Faith Works 8-25-23

Faith Works 8-25-23
Jeff Gill

For what it's worth
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While I'm in the middle of a series about events of our past in Licking County, news out of southern Georgia, where a one term President of the United States and his wife of 77 years both on hospice care, sounds as if his term of life is coming to a close.

Jimmy Carter is nearing 99 years on this earth; Rosalynn just turned 96. I got to stand and talk to her about Habitat and homelessness and building homes at Denison University some years ago, and she was as gracious and delightful as you might have heard. She liked painting more than carpentry, but her husband lived to frame in new builds, hammer at the ready. I never met her husband, but he has been a presence in my life at a number of interesting junctures, such as the summer of 1980. During that already steamy June, I heard a fellow Marine Corps officer candidate say:

"He's not my president."

What followed is what happened in an armory building at Quantico Marine Base in Virginia; some poor fool said that as we stood around waiting for our range time, in reference to a framed picture of Jimmy Carter, on the wall with Edward Hidalgo, Secretary of the Navy, and Gen. Robert Barrow, Commandant of the United States Marine Corps.

The gunnery sergeant in charge had temporary custody of half of Kilo Company, and the gunny had been making a number of what could reasonably called conservative statements, about the Rapture theologically and the foolishness of welfare politically, while we waited at ease in the shade. All of which took hold of one person in our number to say, nodding at Carter's toothy grin, "he's sure not my President."

Gunny stood up from his stool behind the counter, an audible creak as his considerable bulk came off of it. He had arms like thighs, heavily inked with eagles, flags, anchors, and an old rugged cross.

"Not your president, candidate?" he said with a smile that would chill the blood of a person much denser than any of his listeners. "You would set yourself up to define and decide on your own chain of command? You think it's up to you to choose who you report to, whose authority issues your commission? Why, that's dangerously close to mutiny, and the Department of the Navy (nods at Hidalgo) and our own Commandant (nods to Gen. Barrow) categorize mutiny as a hanging offense… hypothetically, of course" he said with a further frosty smile.

"We've had fools and drunkards in the White House, but while they hold office, they are in the chain of command second only to God the Father." He paused, looked through us beyond the walls of the armory, and smiled one last time. "When you receive your commission, you'll be in the chain of command over me. Isn't THAT a wonder?"

The gunny shook his head, turned back to his bench, and we filed out onto the range shortly after, Jimmy Carter our president. For every last one of us, even those who didn't know that afternoon who the current president was. They knew now.

Leadership, whether political or theological, requires a certain measure, judicious I'll admit but it need to be there, of followership. Leadership, and followership. If everyone believes that to be truly faithful or true they have to be in charge, at all times, how does that even work? Sometimes we are called to follow.

In retrospect, Jimmy Carter was a commander in chief I'm proud to have followed. A leader is not always someone you agree with at all times, but at the right time, to follow faithfully can be a real blessing.


Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's known a number of commanders-in-chief. Tell him how you've dealt with being a follower at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.