In late August, about 80,000 people known as “Burners” will load up their vehicles with whatever they can cram into their ride and head toward “the middle of nowhere” in Nevada’s Black Rock Desert.
There, amid an “anything goes,” counter-cultural atmosphere, they will help construct a temporary city where attendees will find a mix of artistic expression, drugs, pagan rituals — and an emphasis on building community. And yes, there will be at least a few naked people running around as well.
Buying and selling services and goods is strictly banned — but bartering and trading is allowed. Some might call it a festival, others might describe it as a movement.
The annual event, known simply as Burning Man, will run Aug. 30–Sept. 7 and concludes with the burning of a giant structure called “The Man,” which apparently means a lot of different things to a lot of different people.
When it’s over, everything disappears without a trace within a few days — or at least that’s the goal of organizers.
In July, HBO released a documentary series called “The Man Must Burn,” which covers the history and planning behind the event, which started in San Francisco about four decades ago.
‘Heartbeat’ for ministry
“Religion” is a good word to describe how many Burners see the annual event, said Melanie Lawler, a children’s minister at First Baptist Church Slidell, Louisiana.
Lawler fondly recalls the years she helped spearhead the Burning Man Water Ministry. As a North American Mission Board missionary, she worked with the Sierra Baptist Association in Reno and church volunteers in towns like Empire — a company-owned town that shut down in 2011 — to hand out gallons of water and gospel tracts to weary Burners about to enter the event grounds.
During a conversation with The Baptist Paper, Lawler referred to this type of outreach as her “heartbeat.”
Today, she continues to share Jesus at special events like Mardi Gras in the New Orleans area.
“People know me. They’re like ‘Oh, you’re the balloon lady,’” said Lawler, who sparks conversations with people and makes balloon animals for children.
While it’s been years since Lawler has set foot in the Black Rock Desert, she continues to pray every year in late August that Christians will continue to find ways to engage Burners with the gospel.
For about a decade, Lawler braved the heat, miles of eye-catching characters and a gas station owner who one year decided he no longer wanted “those Baptists” to set up outside his business. Lawler and her team responded by relocating a little further down the road.
“It was the last gas station before the turn off to Burning Man,” she recalled. “Everybody would stop there for gas and supplies. … But most of these people filled their cars with booze and drugs. … So, we were giving them something useful — but also giving them living water.”
Her assignment, she explained, “was to help churches look at their communities and find ways to share Christ.” The outreach basically started with a local pastor and a dream.
“God woke him up in the middle of the night (to tell him) the entire world drives by your church to get to Burning Man. Find a way to share Christ with those people,” she said.
Changed life
But it was never easy, and as changes in funding such Baptist ministries began to dry up, Lawler started to wonder if they were impacting lives. But one day a Burner approached her during a traffic jam caused by a car wreck.
“This man came running up to us, and said, ‘Hey, can I get one of those little books you’re giving away?’” she recalled.
He explained, “My best friend has been coming with me for years, and he wouldn’t come with me this year. He’s been reading that book. He’s got a whole new group of friends. … I don’t see him as much anymore, and he tells me I need to read what is in one of those little books.”
That encounter led Lawler to see it as “God’s example” that the team had “made a difference.” She added, “I can’t wait to get to heaven someday and meet that man.”
Warning to ‘the called’
Pastor Curtis Fulenwider, pastor of Fernley First Baptist Church, used to mentor Lawler years ago. Fernley is about 80 miles from the Burning Man site. Burners stop off in the town every year to get supplies.
He cautions those who may consider themselves “called” to go to Burning Man:
“If you get tickets, the first thing going to meet you is some naked dude,” he told The Baptist Paper. “Be sure that if you do ministry out here, you better check the Spirit of God and make sure that you’re called. … The devil will eat you alive.
“In Nevada, you have 24-hour gambling … 24-hour drinking … legal brothels,” he said. “In my years of experience … you really better be called to go out and do ministry. … They are the lost of the lost.”
That doesn’t deter him from continuing to preach the gospel. “My attitude is with all of these sinners, someone is bound to get saved.”
Lawler echoes “Pastor Curtis’” warning. She said Christians shouldn’t approach these types of outreach ministries with a “turn and burn” mindset. “When you’re out there going, ‘Hey you, you’re condemned, you’re going to hell,’ you’re not making a connection. You’re turning people off.”
She still misses her years of ministry in Nevada. “I would intentionally make trips to Walmart in order to run into Burners,” said Lawler, noting “you can spot a Burner a mile away. It would give me opportunities to have God conversations. I call them ‘God-versations.’”
