Church with Jimmy Carter

President Carter, Mrs Carter and me

It was a hot July morning in Plains, Georgia when we pulled into Maranatha Baptist Church. The modest brick building is set back from a country road and is like many other small churches except for the bomb-sniffing dog who circled our car and the Secret Service agents who examined the contents of our pockets and scanned us with a wand before we entered.

Maranatha is former President Jimmy Carter’s church and he teaches Sunday School classes here regularly. This was his 551st class.  It started promptly at 10:00 AM when Mr. Carter walked in with a noticeable limp. He’d recently had knee replacement surgery and was scheduled for another in a few weeks.

Around 120 people attended the service, mostly people who came to see Jimmy. The previous week’s attendance was 31 – including seven guests - but it balloons when Carter teaches.

President Carter asked where the attendees were from. We answered California, Massachusetts, Idaho, Texas, Michigan, Kentucky and more. A cross-section of America attending church together in the middle of nowhere in a town so tiny you could miss it if you blinked your eyes while passing through.

Carter briefly explained his current humanitarian and political involvements, including the Carter Center’s work to eradicate tropical diseases and supervise foreign elections. I envisioned him hanging out with other locals on the seats that still set outside brother Billy’s old Phillips 66 station. After discussing the price of peanuts, a straw-chomping farmer might lean back and casually ask, “So Jimmy, what’re you up to this week?” To which Carter might reply, “I’m going to Pyongyang to free some detainees,” or “I’ll be supervising the Palestinian elections.”

He spoke about what it meant to be a Christian, taught that all of us are called to share the word of God, and advocated daily Bible reading. The Carters take turns reading out loud to each other a page or two at a time, usually in Spanish so they can practice the language.

After a break the regular parishioners arrived, including Rosalynn Carter who came in with her husband. They sat toward the front on the right side next to an aisle. The preacher was Dr. Dan Arail, a retired minister filling in for the regular pastor. He spoke about how truth is hard to come by. The sermon was entertaining because the reverend relished being irreverent. At one point he asked “What do you call 1,000 lawyers at the bottom of a lake? A good start!”

The Carters stayed for photos with visitors. Due to the President’s recent surgery, both he and the former First Lady sat in chairs at the front of the church. We lined up, gave our cameras to church members, greeted the Carters and had our pictures taken. When I shook his hand I was surprised by its size and strength. But more impressive was his gracious dedication to sharing Christian faith in a venue that others in his position would consider unbefitting.

For the 551st time.

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