Mark 1:32-39; Luke 12: 13-15; Luke 9: 51-62

Photography | Seeing Southern

An audible silence floated throughout the sanctuary as the 93-year-old former president walked gently and faithfully to the podium. Placing his Bible on the podium's peak, he opened the book, flipping from one page to another until he found for what he searched. He began speaking about the lesson and what he would deliver that morning.
     What about the introductions that Jana mentioned would be first? These two minutes of introductions would be our only opportunity to photograph.
     As if he could read my mind, he moved from behind the wooded podium to the center of the room, arms shyly folded, still smiling that million dollar, toothy smile and began asking who was there. He stood in front of the communion table, adorned with a yellow rose and daisy floral arrangement placed there in honor of his wife's 91st birthday, and when he tired, he leaned delicately on it for support.
     "Any pastors, missionaries here?" he inquired, telling the audience that would like for one to say a prayer. A catholic nun responded, and he asked the sister to lead in prayer. 
     "Where is everyone from?" Carter asked. A storm of locations were tossed in the air. "Switzerland. Cambodia. Colorado. Tennessee." He repeated distinctly each place as if he were trying to catalog in his mind its location on a globe. Someone echoed Tennessee,  and Carter dismissed that, saying, "someone already said that."
      Turning around, he acknowledged a group of grinning 15-year-olds who completely filled the choir loft. Part of the Sister City Exchange between Miyoshi-City, Japan, and Americus, this group was the student sector of the adult/student delegation which visited each year. This community relationship began in 1990 when Carter and his daughter Amy returned a temple bell, which had been given to the Carter Center but one that had been stolen from the Shoganji Temple during WWII. 
      He began the morning by sharing personal details of his recent trip to Montana spending time with his friend, Ted Turner. "I've lost vigor in a year," he confessed. Previously, mornings and afternoons in a trout stream lasted up to two-and-one-half-hours each; this year, he could only make it one-hour-and-a-half for each session. How many of us could even last an hour and a half I thought to myself.
     Then, there's his son Chip who, just the day before, added a ride in a gyrocopter to his father's list of accomplishments. "Does anyone know what a gyrocopter is?"  After Len (the only one in the crowd to know) answered the president's question, Carter replied, "A wonderful machine."
     And, in the coming weeks, he and Rosalynn would be headed to South Bend, Indiana, for their 36th Habitat for Humanity project.
    The lesson for this August morning, Jesus setting priorities in our life. When to work and when to rest. How to say no. How we set our own priorities.
     He asked questions of times when we said no in our lives and answers came. "A good answer,"  he said, "but not the one I wanted."
     When did Carter say no?  During his congressional campaign against Bo Callaway. When he decided to run for governor of Georgia. No to bombing Iran during the Iran Hostage crisis.
     From the far right, Rosalynn, standing tall and stern, said loudly, "I have a time when I said no." At that moment, the first lady took the floor.
     Over laughter and through his own, Carter shared that his first marriage proposal to Rosalynn ended in a no because she had promised her father (on his death bed) to finish college before she married. "That's her story," he laughs and continues. But in February of 1947 when she had finished school, she said yes and they had "just finished 72 years together."
     Saying yes? For Carter, it was simple. The Carter Center. "It is devoted to filling vacuums in this world." His Family. "Every year we take the family on vacation. There's 40 of us. We've been overly prolific." Teach here and at Emory. "And, I paint a picture every now and then."
    It wasn't the first time during that morning that Carter reminded us that there was one thing he wanted us to remember. And like earlier, he repeated his theme.
     "If you have a life without purpose and thanksgiving," he confirmed, "it's your own fault. God gives us life and complete freedom. In your own private declarations, no one can make those decisions but you. He gives everyone enough talent and opportunity to live a successful life in the eyes of God. Every time you make a decision, you're deciding, 'this is the person I want to be.' If you're not satisfied, you can correct your decision. It's up to you. This is the kind of person I want to be."
     And with that, he closed his Bible and walked to the side where his Secret Service detail fell in step and all disappeared into the void.

We gathered in this one place, but we could not have been more different.
     An American president.
     A former Alabama governor.
     A Cambodian mail-order bride.
     A film crew from GPTV.
     A Georgia studies teacher.
     A group of Seventh Day Adventist college students.
     A company of Japanese students from near Hiroshima, almost 78-years to the day of the August 6 bombing.
     A guest preacher Rob Lee, a descendant of yes, "that guy," wearing a black robe, green sash, leather slip-on loafers and no socks.
     Billy Carter's daughter Jana singing in the choir.
     People from Switzerland, Georgia, Tennessee, North Carolina and beyond.
     A journalist.
 
     As I look back on this August morning and remembered why people came to the service, hope was the common denominator. Each story and mission hinged on a hope that Carter would hand over to a world that was anything but hopeful. In the end, Carter's message was exactly that, but I don't think it was in the form they expected.
     We had the answer all along. We were the hope. Our future's successes and failures depended upon our ability to rally the troops within ourselves, uncovering happiness and joy and purpose. And if we can't or don't, those successes and failures became our fault.
     Pointing the finger inward was not what many expected, but I believe if you knew the man, anything less would have left the visitors shortchanged.
     It's up to us, revealed the 39th president of the United States.