As Jim Sees It

I enjoy my morning prayer-reading-journaling time. My desk faces a window on the east side of the parsonage and most mornings I look out and see a beautiful sky, with the morning sun shining through the large live oaks across the street. Herons, geese, gulls and other soaring birds are almost always on the move, trying to decide if the food is better in the marsh or on one of the neighborhood lakes. Sometimes, when I look out the window, I see Kathryn headed in from her morning walk and I am filled with gratitude for the life we have and are sharing. On the inside, the top of my desk is covered with icons, spiritual mementos, pictures and words that I have written to remind me that I am a child of the light. The books I am reading devotionally right now are really speaking to me. One would think that it should be pretty easy to be a Christian in that setting but the other morning I hit a stumbling block right there at that very desk.

I was journaling my morning prayers and intended to write, “Take me where you want me to go” but when my pen caught up with my mind, I wrote, “Get me where I need to be.” Not quite the same thing.

Instead of a mini version of “Not my will but yours be done” or even an echo of Wesley’s “Put me to what thou wilt” I went with “Get me there on time and help me look good doing it.” That may be over stating it a bit but I certainly changed the wording on the contract. My nerve failed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go where Jesus wants me to go. My candid hope is to go where I want to go. I think I may have a trust issue.

I find that odd since twice over the last three years I have allowed a stranger to inject me with some drug, and then wheel me into a room full of people with masks, where I would be put to sleep so a man I barely knew could cut me. I willingly took that crazy step of faith but I balked at telling the Creator, who has done a word-defying awesome job of showing us that his nature is love, that I was willing to go wherever he wants me to go. Maybe it is because I have seen where that got some of the other Christ followers.

Truth is, I don’t want to make less money or live any further from my grand children, let alone be disliked, which kind of pales in comparison to being exiled, beaten up, stoned or fed to the lions. That doesn’t feel very much like a disciple but signing a blank check prayer is huge step of faith.

I don’t have a, “and then I realized . . . and prayed with all my heart, ‘Lord, your will be done’” close to this.

All I have is a belief that the Spirit gently, persistently calls, “Come, follow me. I love you and promise to be with you, always.” And I, like a stray cat afraid to get too close, answer back, “Maybe I can for just today.”

Over the years I have been asked a lot of questions. People want to know where Cain’s wife came from, when the world will end, and what Jesus meant when he said . . . They also want to know what I think about abortion, homosexuality, and war.

All those questions have come from church people. I not sure that people who don’t go to church, and that is most of our neighbors, are particularly interested in what I think about any of that.

So, I was just wondering, if I was on the outside looking in, what would my questions be? What would I find puzzling about the people who call themselves Christ followers? Here’s my list, in no particular order:

- I sometimes get the impression that the Church is mad at me. Is that true?
- Many of you seem to believe that I am going to burn forever and ever because I don’t believe the way you do. Does that really seem fair to you?
- Other than going to church, what does it mean to be a Christian?
- If God loves the sinner but hates the sin, why to I not feel loved?
- Why to I keep hearing about people who visit a church and no one speaks to them?
- How do you know which part of the Bible to obey and which part to ignore?
- You often say things I just don’t get. For instance, what do you mean by “a personal relationship with Jesus”?

I don’t know if those questions are really out there or not but I know that I would ask them if I wasn’t a Christian. And, I think it would be a good idea if we had an answer, just in case.

Plain. If I could pick just one word to describe my mother’s side of the family, that would be it. Others would work. Religious, educated, hard working or musical all fit but plain seems to fit best when it comes to that branch of the tree. I am proud of that family trait and find it to be extremely valuable.

I don’t mean plain in appearance. My aunt was the very first queen of Pageland, SC’s watermelon festival. My mother often told stories about how the young fellows of Chesterfield County aspired to date one of the Robertson girls and I am certain that my good looking girl cousins only added to that legacy.

When I say plain, I mean “I am what I am” and “what you see is what you get.” That was a major theme at my grand mother’s funeral and you can see it in her children, grandchildren and even the people who married into the family.

Of course it is easy to live this way if you happen to be good looking, musical and educated but there is some other stuff mixed in there as well. The darker, tougher stuff of life is in the mix and it has taken its hard and often costly toll on us. But still, we are what we are: good looking, addicted, religious, conflicted, educated, misguided, loved and homeless. In our family history there are many stories of joy and many stories of tragedy. It is what it is. “Just as I Am, Without One Plea” could be our family theme hymn. Maybe you can relate. Maybe we are related in a way that transcends genealogy.

I think being plain is a worthy aspiration. In fact, my current mission statement is to be a plain Christ follower. When we hide behind our wishful images we are stuck in a make believe world and we spend all our energy trying to keep up a false front while the gift of life rushes by. The truth makes us free.

You can call it confession, honesty, authenticity, being real or simple plainness. I call it life and that is where we find God.