The Gospel According to Lewis

For I determined to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified... I Cor. 2:2

The fall of the year in the deep south is a special time. There is still a warmth in the air from the dog days of summer, but the humidity dissipates and the air becomes breathable again. I enjoyed the crispness of the day as I rode my bike home from school on those familiar streets in the little community of Edgewood in Columbus, Ga in 1963. First and second graders got of school thirty minutes early and the streets were always free of the traffic jam of bikes that faced me each morning. I arrived home and noticed my mom hovering over the Zenith black and white TV.
"What happened?" I asked.
The look on her face matched the answer...it was the first chink out of soft limestone of that statue of the innocence of childhood...

I recently had an opportunity to visit this little community; my son was playing a baseball game in Columbus, Ga and I slipped out of work early to make the hour trip across the Chattahoochie River to watch them play. I arrived early and decided to take a drive through my old neighborhood. I really didn’t know what to expect; it had been 44 years since I lived in this community. I figured time had taken its toll on the place, as the homes were modest in 1963 and I wondered if the whole suburb might have even been torn down and rebuilt.
I made a quick right turn off the now busy Macon Highway and eased down my old street, Juniper Avenue. Our old home was still there. And I was pleasantly surprised that the homes had been kept up quite nicely, an obvious blue collar enclave now, but one where folks seemed to take pride in the little homes. (The home below is an example of the style of homes in the neighborhood.)

Everything was smaller now. I retraced my trip to Edgewood Elementary. It definitely wasn’t ‘five miles in the snow’ but a short journey of meander- ing, narrow streets with fresh asphalt-filled potholes. My mind drifted back to my friends Lewis and Rusty Edge, our next door neighbors. (The opening picture shows Lewis next to the boy with the blue shirt, Rusty is the little guy, and I am the guy with the hip hop underwear showing. Biggy, as we called my brother, is in the red shirt.) Lewis was always on the go. In fact, his mantra then is still used as a family joke. When we had saddled up the bikes, Lewis would holler, "Let’s go-ooo!!!" The word ‘go’ was always elongated like a coyote howl. To this day when the family gathers, my brother or I will let out a "Let’ go-ooo!" when we finally are ready to hit the road for a family outing. (My brother sent a copy of the Sunday Parade magazine to me several years back. The cover article was on the Changing Face of the American Trucker. There was Lewis Edge, yuppie truck driver. I suppose his mantra made a career for him.)

As I arrived at Edgewood Elementary, I became that second grader again...the covered bike rack was still there. The little shopping center across the street where I got my ‘close on the sides, short on the top" haircut. The City Service gas station, long gone, but one of Lewis’ and my desti- nations. We used to like to drink out of the "Colored Only" water fountain because we thought the water was colored.

And then my mind drifted to my bike trip in November of 1963. It is true what folks who were alive then say, everyone remembers where they were when President Kennedy was killed. When my mom broke the news to me on that day, I felt it was my duty to get back to school and tell the third through sixth graders coming home. The looks on their faces as I met them on the road told me that they had already heard the awful news.

Yes, the innocence of my childhood took a beating that day. It would be about a year later when we were huddled around Zenith TV again, wondering then if my dad had lost his life in Vietnam.
(My first blog entry July 25, 2006. See the archives)

I wonder sometimes if the followers of Jesus had the crucifixion so etched in their souls that it caused them to have this similar experience, one that they knew exactly where they were, how they reacted, what they felt. Prior to that dark day, the disciples had heard words of faith, witnessed miracles, and felt the life changing power of Jesus. It all disappeared into a helplessness, one that even caused Peter to curse and deny that he ever knew Him.

Yet the darkest hour became the brightest moment in time. As Christians, we seem to have some need to have a ‘deeper revelation’ than this, to be on the cutting edge of what God is "doing"; we create new buzz words that are used to impress others of our great spirituality. But the work of the cross...it is the very essence of our faith; it is the very thing we need to always have etched in our souls, an event that simply grounds us deeply in our faith.

I loved the fact that Paul said that he knew nothing except Jesus and Him crucified. It must have been that meeting on the road that convinced him, an experience he never forgot. It still happens today, the simplicity of the gospel, the meeting on the road....the thing that causes us to call out with excitement to God for a remarkable journey...."Let’s go-ooo!"

Mark