Real Christianity (Part 1)

Admittedly, it's been a long season of disillusionment and confusion about what following Jesus should really look like in my life. What is God's will? Is it simply believing the "right" doctrines and following all the "right" methods that other people tell us we should? Is is following a set of prescribed political beliefs and voting the "right" way? Parenting our children a certain way? Schooling our children a certain way?


I've been trying to read with my sons a bit this summer. Though our times can be disjointed and irregular, I'm reading an old book with them entitled God Can Move Mountains by Father Ralph W. Beiting. Father Beiting is the founder of the Christian Appalachian Project and this little book attempts to explain the work of this organization operated in the "hollers" of poverty-stricken, eastern Kentucky. Reading this book has been my meager little attempt to show my boys - and myself - some of the fruits and effects of "real" Christianity.


You can learn more about this organization at: http://www.christianapp.org/

It's a bit lengthy, but I want to share a letter written by a woman who was cared for by CAP many years ago. As I read this letter, I became keenly aware of the familiar nudge of the Spirit bringing light to my questions about "real" Christianity.

Dear Father Beiting,

I very highly doubt that you remember me, for many years have passed since I saw you last, and I was only one of the many children who came to St. Paul's in McKee, Kentucky. I couldn't have been more than six or seven at the time, but I never forgot you. 

You looked down at me with your kindness and caring when I was a small girl. Somehow in my young mind I knew that though I was one of many poor children in that area, I was not just another child to you. My name was Carmen, Abner then, Scott now. There were five of us children and my mother. My father was almost never around. We tried to scratch a living out of the hillside five mile out of Sand Gap, but I know that there were times we wouldn't have made it if not for the caring and help of the people of St. Paul's. I assume that was all a part of the Christian Appalachian Project then, but as a child I wasn't aware of it.

I remember a lot. I remember a Sister Mary Jo and a car full of food when we had none. I remember a brown crib bed with a teddy bear on the headboard and my mother telling me Sister had brought it for me. She was surprised when I mentioned it years later. She had that bed still, but had thought me too young to have remembered where it came from. Nevertheless, I did remember.

I remember the giving and the people who gave. You people made an impression on me and I believe myself to be a better person for having known you and having experienced the kindness of your works. If you ever get discouraged and wonder if what you are doing really helps the people you're trying to reach, I stand as an example that such caring and help touches more than the bellies and hands of children.

(to be continued)