Angels
How the adolescent thought that he or she got to that place in life without parents, they cannot say, except to be certain these adults were not involved. Adolescents have empirical evidence to prove conclusively that parents know nothing at all and that they have always been old without benefit of any adolescent experience of their own. Adolescents typically belong to the Groucho Marx School of Family Membership, which is to say they do not want to belong to any family that would have them for a member.
Moreover, if our parents know nothing, then our friends know everything. Peers are the omniscient instructors. All standards of taste, dress, demeanor, values, language, and aspiration are deferred to those as mystified as we are. Adolescence is a kind of pick-up seminar where clueless amnesiacs try to find the way forward without reference to the adult world around them.
It is a time of life when many of us awaken one morning to find ourselves among strangers, probably dropped off in a wicker basket on the porch years ago, raised by these well-meaning but abysmally ignorant folks, who may someday tell us about our real family. My family does not understand me, if it really is my family, and probably does not even love me. We stand at the entrance to adolescence like a well-meaning visitor from another planet waiting for instructions. In time, we find our way home.
I was not aware of it then, but adolescent visa in hand, some adults had taken notice of me. I was a member of a small band of guerrillas who attended the church school at
The most important non-parent adults in my adolescence were some optimists in that congregation. They gently and persistently entered my life, assuming a role in my Christian nurture, or more to the point, my reclamation. However, it was not done in any way obvious enough to arouse adolescent defenses. By a subtle process of invitation and affirmation, they drew me into a circle of youth and adults who welcomed me and encouraged me to grow; utilizing the gifts they believed I had, even though they were invisible to me.
That initiation into a family of youth and adults blessed me with friendships I cherish a half-century later. I learned the life and language of that family, experiencing the fellowship of those for whom Christian Faith mattered. My parents were delighted, but wise enough not to say so.
Those adults not only noticed me but also modeled for me the fullness of a life in faith. Enticed into a wonderful fellowship of young people and adults, we worked together, laughed together, ate together, sang together, played together, worshipped together, and traveled together. They witnessed before me the richness, joy and peace of an authentic Christian life, making that life both desirable and attainable.
I am afraid the word “angel” is used far too glibly today. Unfortunately, the word is informed more by
Along the way, I have been regularly humbled by the measure of my indebtedness to those good souls. Time and again I am awed by the mystery of finding myself in their faithful, loving care at just the right time.
God’s peace.
Chuck Johns
As this is the final Faith Matters, please permit me a few words of appreciation.
This column began as Council Corner in the winter of 1998 when I became the Interim Conference Council Director. Don Perry suggested that I write a column for the print edition of The Voice with information on Conference Council activities. I tried that for a few months and it became obvious to both of us that something else was trying to escape from me. Reflecting where my writing seemed to be going, the column was renamed Faith Matters. I am deeply indebted to Don for his encouragement and support over these past 12 years of print and online Voice. Thanks, Brother.
I also thank Vicki Johnson and Mark Marino who followed me in what became known as Director of Connectional Ministries for asking me to continue Faith Matters. Their kind invitations allowed me to extend the column beyond its allotted time. Thanks Vicki and Mark.
I am very grateful to Nancy Conklin who carefully cared for the transmission of Faith Matters once it was received in the
I thank those of you who read the column and told me that it was helpful in your walk. I thank those of you who found it less than helpful who had the kindness to tell me that in gentle ways. Encouragement and critique are both blessings when they are offered in a caring spirit. On its own, the discipline of paying attention to my own life once each month has turned out to be compensation pressed down and running over.
It has been a privilege to have been given the opportunity to write Faith Matters for these past 12 years. I sincerely thank you for giving of your time to read it.
Chuck