A Friend's Questions

In 2007, I went to South America with a friend called, “Catfish.” The University of Georgia’s legendary Vince Dooley gave him that nickname circa 1980, saying he “fought like a cat and drank like a fish.” I’m sure that was true for those years he was lining up as the Georgia Bulldogs’ Defensive Captain and nose guard. I never saw him fight or drink, but standing well over 6’ tall, as broad a doorway, and with a personality as big as they come, he makes an impression everywhere he goes. Argentina was certainly no exception. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed as hard as watching him urgently seeking a restroom, or any place to privately relieve himself, as he danced through a village of small, non-English speaking Mayan descendants, who could not seem to grasp what on earth this giant American needed so desperately. He did eventually find a restroom, rendering it and the rest of the little building uninhabitable for a spell.

I will forever be grateful to Catfish for inviting me to join him on such a fun-filled trip. Perhaps the most memorable and long-lasting part of that trip was meeting my roommate, Chuck. Catfish brought his son, and since we were housed in pairs, I roomed with Chuck, whom I quickly discovered could speak enough of the Spanish/Mayan dialect to navigate the necessities. When I realized that we were blindly following the locals into the Piranha River, I had some serious questions and Chuck’s language skills vaulted to a place of my highest esteem. Needless to say, my mono-linguistic-self stayed close to Chuck the rest of the trip.

The very first night, gazing upward with no light pollution from the ground, the sky looked as if God himself had sprinkled thousands of diamonds across an enormous swath of black velvet. It  was an utterly spectacular and unforgettable sight. There seemed to be no comprehensible way to consume such a view without marveling at the work of the Creator. Such beauty launched Chuck and I into our first of many late-night discussions about God.

Almost seventeen years later, Chuck and his wife serve on our ministry board, and I gratefully consider him one of the best friends I’ve ever had. He’s quick to tell others how our friendship has challenged him to stretch and grow, but I’ve grown as much or more as Chuck. Isn’t that what the best friendships do? I’ve long taught my children that the friends you choose and the habits you develop together will shape and define you even more than the food you eat or the books you read. Chuck’s that kind of friend. He shapes my character and faith in the best ways.

Everyone needs a friend who asks great questions. Chuck tends to casually drop these mind-twisting bombs, as if they’re no big deal, just before taking a phone call, or needing to step out. He was doing mic drops before it was a thing. He walks away as cool as James Dean, while I then find myself on the hind end of his questions, left to play my own solo mental and theological version of twister, often contorting myself into a spiritual Gumby by the time I hit the entry ramp to I-95 just over a stone’s throw away. Here’s an example from just a few days ago:

“John, what do we call those of us who have accepted Jesus as Lord and Savior? Christians, right? We refer to ourselves using the Lord’s name, right? What if the fourth commandment – ‘You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain.’ – is as much about our actions as Christians as it is about our language? What if by referring to ourselves with the Lord’s name, and continuing to live in ways contrary to his ways, we are taking the name of the Lord in vain? I heard a preacher say this and I’m just wondering what you think.” Then Chuck answered his phone, and walked away…

Yeah, I think I’ll just stop right here and leave you to ponder Chuck’s questions.

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