A friend was telling me about a book she’s been reading called Traveling Mercies by Anne Lamott. I hadn’t previously known too much about Anne except that she’s a Christian figure/ writer often blasted by conservative types for her unorthodox ways and politically left views.
She writes her thoughts on faith in a casual, descriptive, humorous and honest way. There are a lot of gooders in the book but one part that has especially spurred on further thoughts for me is her story of conversion. It’s not your typical testimony of someone inviting Jesus into their heart with hands folded calmly over a bedside. But the authenticity of her story reeks of something the Jesus of the Bible would do.
God’s pursuit of Anne happened over time– culminating in what reads as a very physical experience. One day while in her room she feels this overwhelming presence of someone in the room with her. Not in a creepy way, just in a very real way. And for whatever reason, she knew that the presence of this person was none other than Jesus himself.
Implausible? Maybe. Intriguing? Yes.
Her thought process was basically, “Why are you here? There’s no way I’m ever becoming a Christian.” Yet, as the days passed she felt this presence of Jesus constantly with her, near her. Run as she may, both physically and figuratively, she found herself a week later surrendering to God. And how? This is the great kicker.. she said,
“F**k it: I quit. All right. You can come in.” And that’s her conversion. Can you believe it?
I want to insert a thought and suspend it here for a moment: Christians love to discuss how one’s ways, experiences, theologies are neither here or there. Discussion is good but often times along the way, either knowing or unbeknownst to us, such discussions can result in passing judgment and relegating condemnation. Let’s not. Especially when these conversations are largely based upon partial-knowledge opinions. Let’s hold off, please.
Back to Anne’s story. I’m amazed yet again at God’s loving pursuit for the hearts of men and women. Anne’s conversion actually reminded me of C.S. Lewis’ conversion (as recorded in Surprised by Joy– which I wrote a post about last year). Though his conversion did not happen with such.. colorful speech.. it seems to me what undergirded his moment of surrender to God was the same that of Anne’s. Lewis was running just as hard and just as far away from God as Anne was. It looked different in each person’s life but in the midst of doubts, they each actively placed their faith in Christ anyway. This active faith, birthed from the work of the Spirit, started to replace the intellectual pushback and rebellion they had prided themselves in. It’s incredible.
Take a brief read at how both Lamott and Lewis record their conversion experiences:
I was appalled. I thought about my life and my brilliant hilarious progressive friends, I thought about what everyone would think of me if I became a Christian, and it seemed an utterly impossible thing that simply could not be allowed to happen. I turned to the wall and said out loud, ‘I would rather die’…
One week later, when I went back to church, I was so hungover that I couldn’t stand up for the songs, and this time I stayed for the sermon, which I just thought was so ridiculous, like someone trying to convince me of the existence of extraterrestrials, but the last song was so deep and raw and pure that I could not escape. It was as if the people were singing in between the notes, weeping and joyful at the same time, and I felt like their voices or something was rocking me in its bosom, holding me like a scared kid, and I opened up to that feeling– and it washed over me.
I began to cry and left before the benediction, and I raced home and felt the little cat running along at my heels and I walked down the dock past dozens of potted flowers, under a sky as blue as one of God’s own dreams, and I opened the door to my houseboat, and I stood there a minute, and then I hung my head and said, ‘Fuck it: I quit.’ I took a long deep breath and said out loud, ‘All right. You can come in.’
- Anne Lamott in Traveling Mercies, 49-50.
You must picture me alone in that room in Magdalen, night after night, feeling, whenever my mind lifted even for a second from my work, the steady, unrelenting approach of Him whom I so earnestly desired not to meet. That which I greatly feared had at last come upon me. In the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England.
- C.S. Lewis in Surprised by Joy, 228-229.
While reading Traveling Mercies, I did what I often do in response to books and movies: I googled. There’s a lot to sift through in reading and watching various Anne Lamott interviews. As I’m learning more about Lamott and reading various articles she’s written surrounding culture, faith and politics, I’m imagining in my head that if C.S. Lewis and Anne Lamott were put side-by-side in Christian culture, you would get different opinions and responses.
It seems to me a large divide appears when you throw out these two names in the general Christian community. Lewis is well honored and respected (deservedly); a favorite when it comes to name-dropping in Christian culture. But with Lamott, i think we fail to offer her the kind of grace we ourselves have been recipients of.
There are definitely issues where i disagree with Anne. But after reading Traveling Mercies as well as another one of her books, Grace Eventually, it’s so evident to me that God is actively at work in her life, transforming her. And that’s what God is in the business of doing: transforming and changing lives. It may look a little different person to person, the pace may be different but none of us have “arrived.”
Scripture must remain the standard through differing convictions. But in the midst of discussing Scripture’s interpretation and implication on our lives, let’s rejoice in what God is doing in the midst of it, and in spite of ourselves. Reading Anne’s books have challenged my own thinking of how God is at work and I’m very glad for it.
The Esso kid who told us about Spock Days.
