My First Love

I do not remember a time before I loved God with all my heart. I have a "conversion" experience, in which I knelt at an alter at junior high camp one day in June, with a clear understanding of what it meant to choose to give my whole heart to Jesus. I remember where I was, who was there, most of what was said. It was significant, and I can even figure out an approximate date to insert into the forms I fill out as I renew my minister's license. I'm not downplaying that. But I'd be lying to you if I said I didn't believe Jesus had come to live in my heart long before that day.

I remember sitting in big church with my mom and dad-the spicy-fresh taste of the mint my grandma had snuck me to help me be quiet, the sketchbook where I'd scribbled comic strips of the scripture reading for the day, the smell of pine-sol from the linoleum floors out in the narthex my parents had helped clean the night before. Yes, we used the word narthex.

I remember the holy cadence with which all the voices, including mine, would join in singing the doxology together. We used the word doxology too. Praise God from whom all blessings flow...praise him all creatures here below...It was other-worldly. I looked forward to it every week, maybe because it signaled the time in which we'd spill out of the doors and the parents of my friends would ask my parents "What are you doing for lunch?" and we'd sit around long tables with Sunday roasts and gravy, or we'd meet at the Chinese food restaurant where I'd drop crunchy wontons into hot soup. 

And sometimes, I'd get restless in church because little four-year-old legs were meant to move, so I'd ask for a drink. And my mom would nod and we'd walk out through the narthex to the drinking fountain where someone had hung a poster of Jesus and the little children. I was mesmerized by it. I'd look at the soft, kind expression on his face and in his eyes, and I'd imagine what it must have been like to be there with the grumpy disciples who didn't think children should draw cartoon pictures and wiggle in church, and hear Jesus tell them to "Let them come!" I loved Jesus so much and I still do.

Yet, somehow being a white evangelical Christian in America in 2021 seems to be so much more confusing and complicated than it was back then. If I ask someone who is unchurched or not a believer what it means to be a Christian, "They're absolutely head-over-heals-nuts about Jesus" is maybe (probably) not what they'd answer. There'd probably be a whole lot of other things that they assume we're mostly about after watching us for awhile.

It's gotten so noisy. So crowded in our faith. We've abandoned our "first love" (Revelations 2:4). So many things, some good in and of themselves, and some downright toxic, have been shoved into what we think it means to be a follower of Christ. Theological and political squabbles between fellow brothers and sisters in Christ play out publicly on social media. We canonize the commentators above the God they comment on. Celebrity pastors are caught up in sin that exposes decades of lies and leaves their congregation grappling with what that means about everything they've ever believed. We also aren't sure where Christianity stops and Nationalism takes over. I wrote a little bit about that in last week's post https://momminginministry.blogspot.com/2021/01/now-that-ive-taken-deep-breath-and.htmlWe value our identity as American Christians over our identity as Christians who happen to live in America. The voices are many and we don't always remember what our shepherd's voice sounds like. 

One of my pastor friends recently said, "I feel like I need a detox" in a conversation about how "extra" everything has gotten. I agreed with her. It reminded me of how some people do a juice cleanse after the holidays. "I feel like we need a Jesus-cleanse" I said. Only Jesus until we reset. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE the wonderful Christian authors who inspire and teach us. And I don't mean that we need to quit reading anything that's not in red letters. But, just as the young scholars of Biblical times read the scriptures through the filter of their rabbi, so we need to learn how to see through the filter of our rabbi, Jesus.

Two of my favorite people are my friends, Jasmine, and Crystal. They're young adults who happen to be twins, and serve with us in the Littles' department and kids' life group at church. Their love for Jesus, the same kind of love that I had standing at the drinking fountain gazing at the face of Jesus with the little children long ago, shines through their life in so many ways. If someone were to ask what it means to be a Christian like Jasmine and Crystal are a Christian, almost anyone would probably say, "They're absolutely head-over-heals-nuts about Jesus." For months they've been asking if I'd seen the show "The Chosen" yet. It's their favorite. We finally watched it. I'd been skeptical because some Christian media is less than high quality if we're honest, and maybe a little cheesy. But this looked different. And I love having something to connect with others in ministry over, and so I was looking forward to connecting with Jasmine and Crystal over this. But, what shocked me is that we were GLUED to it. The kids didn't want to stop watching. Someone was weeping...I won't name names. If we'd have let the kids stay up all night it definitely have been binge-worthy. Why? Because we're so hungry for Jesus. 

I don't want it to be hard for people who know me to answer "What is a Christian?" I don't want to have to add a bunch of qualifiers to it- conservative, progressive, Republican, Democrat, American. I just pure and simple want to follow Jesus and do what He's doing. I want to love like He loved knowing the rest will naturally follow. I want to be among the Jasmines and Crystals of who we can say, "They're absolutely head-over-heals-nuts about Jesus." 

This is my prayer. It's taken from an African-American spiritual, written during the time of slavery:

In the morning, when I rise
In the morning, when I rise
In the morning, when I rise, give me Jesus

Give me Jesus
Give me Jesus
You can have all this world
But give me Jesus

Amen.