Close Encounters with Jesus

My Encounter(s) with Jesus

My mother, a devout follower of Jesus with the gift of Tongues, tells me she prayed me into God’s Kingdom while carrying me in her womb. While my father believed, my mother was a believer, and we were never far from the Methodist church of my mother’s family, or (after the middle of my second grade year) the Baptist church of my father’s family. We lived in the heart of the Bible belt, in North Carolina, where the churches were as plentiful as tobacco fields, and where many folk attended church several days a week (and twice on Sundays).

After baptizing (christening, Mom says) me in the Methodist church when I was six weeks old, my mother walked me through the sinner’s prayer when I was two and a half, teaching me that if I invited Jesus into my heart, he would walk with me and talk with me - as well as forgive my sins and assure my place with him in heaven. My parents gave me my first Bible (KJV) at Christmas when I was seven, and encouraged me to memorize and highlight my favorite verses. By the time I went to college (I would give the Bible away to a classmate with whom I was sharing my relationship to Jesus), the Bible was a rainbow of color.

The Baptist church of my youth offered many opportunities to give my heart and life to Jesus. I walked down the aisle first when I was ten, and was baptized by immersion. But many, many times after that Sunday, I felt compelled to walk the aisle to the preacher in front of the altar to rededicate my life to Jesus. I learned about him in Sunday School and at Royal Ambassadors (and at Camp New Life in the summers), read the Bible, prayed and journaled to him in my private devotions, and sang to him and about him and remembered him in worship.

I knew Jesus loved me and that a relationship with him was essential to salvation, but I also knew there were many things he refused to do for me/us. One of my brothers remained severely mentally challenged, in spite of our fervent prayers for healing. Our church split when several people began to raise their hands in worship. Among the hand raisers (who left) were Johnny and Jan Baker, our youth leaders. Johnny’s favorite tee-shirt said “I’m a fool for Jesus” on the front and “Whose fool are you?” on the back. I struggled as a teen with alcohol abuse.

Baptist theology taught me that once my salvation was settled, most of these other questions were impertinent or irrelevant. I had a gift for singing, and in addition to reading the Bible, personal prayer and journaling, music became my primary lifeline to Jesus - and my tears the primary sing that he was near. Besides hymns (“He Lives!” was my favorite), my cousin, a radio deejay, introduced me to contemporary Christian music (the Imperials, Dallas Holm, GLAD, David Meece, and Keith Green) which gave me a new and powerful way to express my love for Jesus.

At the Naval Academy, I was thrown in with the Protestants, and introduced to a wealth of hymnody in the huge chapel services (where the primary text was Jesus’ glowing approval of the Roman Centurion and the stained glass celebrated an angel guiding Admiral Farragut past the mines to defeat the southerners in Mobile Bay). I had begun to yearn for more than the crossing the line of faith emphasis of the Baptist church, but this more overwhelmed me and left me yearning for simplicity. I married a woman (and classmate) in part because of her fierce faith in God, and we joined a United Methodist Church where we sang in the choir (and gave Sunday evening concerts), led Bible studies and taught the junior high youth group. After a year, we made public what we had been exploring privately: God was calling us to serve as ordained pastors.

Through the Duke Divinity School’s dismantling of some of the weakest elements of my faith, and the inevitable disillusionment of my own and the church’s failings, I continue to encounter Jesus in prayer, scripture, worship, music, relationships with those who serve him and those who don’t, and in serving and loving people in his name. These repeated encounters give me the balance to explore (and embrace) the quest for the historical Jesus (which scratches an abiding itch), and the theology of Alfred North Whitehead (God nudges) and Dietrich Bonhoeffer (“Before God and with God we live without God. God let’s himself be pushed out of the world on to the cross.”), while continuing to sing, “You ask me how I know he lives? He lives within my heart!”

Jesus at Asbury United Methodist Church (established 1945)

There are few pictures of Jesus in the church building and sanctuary. In the main hallway, outside the sanctuary, hang two pictures of Jesus, one from behind, as he walks with the disciples on the road to Emmaus (by a Swiss painter named Robert Zund - 1828-1909), and another depicting Jesus holding a lantern and knocking at a door (William Holman “Hunt’s the Light of the World”, painted in 1859). A large stained glass window at the back of the nave contains several symbols of the faith, notably a cross in the center, but no figures, other than the hand of God touching the hand of a human being (from Michalangelo's Sistine Chapel ceiling), and no symbols, other than the cross, evoking the person of Christ.

The predominant image of Christ at Asbury is the (empty) cross. Besides the large stained glass cross in the back, and a golden hanging cross above the alter in the front (with spikes radiating from the center, and the letters IHS, with a red background, to evoke rays), the audio visual tech often shows a picture on a screen above the alter of a cross with a crown of thorns. Christ has sacrificed himself for us on the cross, and is largely absent or distant.

A man in the church makes crosses for people to hang on their walls at home, and women in the church make prayer shawls and distribute them to people in hospitals along with these crosses. Several men in the church pass out little wooden crosses for people to wear around their necks, and last Easter had enough to give everyone who attended Easter services.

Prayers (during worship and at meetings and Bible studies) are offered in Jesus' name, but typically addressed to God or Father.  A Christ candle, or Paschal Candle flanks a small baptismal font, and is lit during the Easter season, at Baptisms, and at funerals.  We celebrate communion every Sunday morning at a small 8:30 gathering, and once a month at our regular worship service, during which we commemorate and celebrate Christ's body and blood given for us all on the cross.

Sermon series during Advent and Lent focus on the meaning of Christ (the prophetic Messianic testimony), and his life, ministry, death and resurrection. Sermon series ate other times of the year, particularly in the summer, focus of the life and ministry of Jesus.

I’ve been asking members and leaders how they experience Jesus at Asbury:

• Love from members of the church
• Bible study experience - in the desire people have for spiritual growth
• The innocence and joy of children
• Worship music - like a prayer
• Not sure that some people in the congregation are experiencing what I’m experiencing (chatting in worship). Martha and Mary approach - we have different experiences of Jesus here.
• Prayer to the Father (personal prayer or prayers for forgiveness to Jesus)
• To me, Jesus looks like the painting that young girl made - dark skin with curly hair
• Hiking - walking in the artwork of creation, when Jesus was God’s instrument of creation, or at a microscope - seeing Jesus' handiwork.
• Asbury is a lens to sharpen my focus on Jesus. Bible study is an oasis to forget about work and look at Jesus more closely (I don’t typically see Jesus in others and Bible study helps me to do so).
• When I’m corrected (in a nice way) by an inner voice to treat others better
• Jesus is an “out” or relief valve when I’m in an overwhelming situation. He has always been there for me since childhood, and I give an hour in worship to him in return for his kindness to me and in respect. Jesus looks out for me. When I was 15, someone hurt me and I prayed that God would punish them and they lost their job. It frightened me to realize that Jesus responds to my emotions. Since then, I’m careful not to be responsible for this kind of divine vengeance by guarding my emotions.
• I experience Jesus in the welcoming smiles and faces of my church family as I enter our church home. Also by listening to a friend and sharing our experiences.