Confessions of a Hippie-Wanna Be

      I am quick to tell you that I grew up in the 60’s, but just a little too late (much to my chagrin) to be a true hippie. I was more of a hippie-wanna-be. I was just in time though, to be a Jesus Person. Jesus People were kind of “Jesus-hippies,” most of whom had never been real hippies, but liked the idea of long hair, bell-bottom pants, and VW buses. I liked all of that plus I loved tie-died clothes, Beatles music and psychedelic posters. While my mom and dad wouldn’t let me be a hippie, they did reluctantly allow me to be a Jesus Person, but I think only because it had the word “Jesus” in it.

       I had a room down in our basement that I painted with brightly colored stripes. I strung some lights up and rigged it so they would pulse with the beat of the music. I would sit down there for hours and listen to my albums and pretend to be tripping out, although I had no idea what that meant.

      It was during this period of time that Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspell became popular. I used to listen to the music in my hippie…I mean Jesus Person room downstairs. It was…groovy.

When the movies of JC Superstar and Godspell came out, I went to see them too. I was intrigued in both movies with how the disciples of Jesus were portrayed. Growing up in a very conservative church and home, I guess I always assumed the disciples had crew cuts and wore suits. And even if they wore something other than suits, I was certain they at least wore frowns. Every Christian I knew wore a frown…why should they be any different?

      But in the movies, being a disciple, or following Jesus was portrayed as something enjoyable. The disciples actually sat around and enjoyed being with Jesus. The first song I learned from Jesus Christ Superstar, thanks to my friend Chuck Wolfinbarger, was “What’s the Buzz…Tell Me What’s ‘a Happenin.’” I could just hear the disciples singing it. It was so fun to sing. But then, when Godspell came out…oh what fun the disciples seemed to be having as they danced, laughed and dressed up...it makes me smile just to think about it.

      The problem was I couldn’t reconcile what I had always assumed was true, (the disciples in their straight-laced clothing and hair styles following Jesus single file in lock-step) with the possibility that perhaps following Jesus was individual, creative, enjoyable and something that brought a smile to the faces to those in Jesus’ group (which of course was the First Baptist Church of Jerusalem).

      A lot of people I talk to about following Jesus still think it's awfully boring and restrictive. I’m pretty sure they got that idea from us. I’m still not sure those of us who call ourselves Christians are convinced following Jesus can be a blast. Perhaps one reason those watching us are not too anxious to join us is because we look so miserable. Here’s a little idea that might help. Try singing, “What’s the Buzz” today. It’s a pretty catchy tune. Or maybe dress up like a clown and…well, maybe that’s going too far, but do something that makes you smile and maybe most importantly something that makes other people smile. I’m usually the odd one, but I really think it’s pretty great following Jesus. As a matter of fact one of my favorite things to tell people is that when I grow up…I want to be a hippie! That almost always makes them smile.

Finding a Way Home

  

  When my dad was growing up in the hills of Eastern Kentucky, every day was an adventure. One of dad's favorite things to do was to tell stories about his childhood. He was the son of a coal miner, sharecropper and alcoholic. His stories were often told with tears in his eyes and a lump in his throat, but also told with the hope that his stories would impact the listeners’ lives in a positive way. One story went something like this:

     “When I was a youngster, my father drank way too much. He drank some during the week but always managed to get up before the sun rose and head up the mountain with the other miners to work in the coal mines. But on Saturday afternoon, when he got paid, he would go to town and gamble and drink until his paycheck was gone. Early on Sunday morning, he would head home, still blurry-eyed and stumbling. The only way he could find his way was to get to the railroad tracks and follow them home. The tracks led to the shack just outside of town where we lived. My mother would get up early on Sunday morning, not to take us to church, but to go outside and look down the tracks to see if she could spot my dad, weaving on and off the cross ties as he “tracked” his way home.”

     “As soon as momma would see him coming, she’d run down and meet him, help him off the tracks so he wouldn’t be run over by a train, then lead him back to the safety of our house.  There on Sunday morning dad would sleep it off in his chair and always wake up just in time for the cornbread and beans mom made for Sunday dinner. That was our life, repeated every week until I left home.”

     I grew up hearing this story and remember I was always amazed at the enduring love of my grandmother. My father never mentioned her yelling at him or berating him in front of the children. His only portrayal of her was of a loving, kind and patient spouse who did everything within her power to “save” her husband from his own self-destructive habits.

     As a teenager I began to attach spiritual significance to these stories, for many of them were my dad’s way of passing on wisdom to his children. This story in particular always pointed me to a Savior who knew my patterns, knew, that left to my own devices I would be the victim of life's "trains." He has reached out to me over and over to rescue me from the tragic result of sin. His interest is not in scolding me or humiliating me. His purpose is to save me, redeem me, recreate me in a way that will lead me down another path…one of significance not destruction.