Rolling in the Aisles by Rob Suggs

Rolling in the Aisles

Steve, my younger brother, was taking his first sip of coffee when a shadow loomed in his office door. He looked up to see Hal, a new engineer at the firm. Hal was fairly new, and Steve was helping him settle in.

This story is set in Texas, for what it's worth. Hal was a hefty country boy who had recently tied the knot with an equally healthy country girl. Steve had found himself sharing advice not only on job issues, but on navigating the wild rapids of the connubial voyage. Once or twice a week Hal appeared at the door, and Steve was ready to lend an oar, or at least an ear.

Hal related each new item of marital mystery, scratched his noggin, and waited patiently for Steve's explanation. For one thing, Hal's bride had mysteriously gotten religion shortly after the ceremony. This made little sense to Hal, as there had been no advance warning or explanation. The wife had simply announced she was headed back to church and taking her husband with her.

Hal, a non-believer, was less than joyful at the news. But he was a newlywed. He was a young man eager to please his mate. So on Sunday morning he washed up, set a death-grip on his necktie, and accompanied his wife to the services. He wasn't certain what to expect.

Had had kept furtive silence about hid his new status as a Sunday-go-to-meetin' fellow. But after a few weeks he came to Steve with a furrowed brow. "Are you a church-goin' man?" he whispered, after carefully closing Steve's door. My brother replied to the affirmative. And Hal unfolded the sad tale of his new Sunday morning captivity, and how it had befallen him. His wife was now doing more than just attending; she was actually getting involved

Hal looked up at Steve, gulped, and came out with it: "It's a Holy-Ghost, faith-healin', aisle-rollin', tongue-talkin', holiness-hollerin' kind of church," he said.

Steve paused to consider. He was trying to picture Hal in such a lively setting. Hal may have been copious of girth, but he was also quiet and reflective. He was a careful, methodical engineer. A guy like Hal would have to be fairly conspicuous in a Holy-Ghost, faith-healin', aisle-rollin', tongue-talkin', holiness-hollerin' kind of church.

My brother Steve is a devout Christian, but a dissenter on the matter of aisle-rolling. He wasn't certain what counsel to offer his friend. Rather hesitantly he said, "Hal, there's nothing in the world more important than a man's relationship with God. And you know, there are different kinds of churches . . ." He knew he wasn't particularly helping Hal with this response.

Some time passed, and Hal came to my brother again. "I had quite a disturbing experience yesterday at church," he said. "I sat through the service as usual. Then we were in the parking lot on our way out, and an elderly lady rolled down her window and glared at me. She said, 'Young man, a vision came to me in a dream the other night. It was about you. The good Lord told me you were sittin' entirely too quietly during our services. He said that if things don't change, he's going to strike you down dead.' Then the lady rolled up her window and drove away."

Hal, the reluctant pilgrim, paused a second, looked up gravely and said, "Steve, I've just received my first church-goin' death threat." Hal was beginning to comprehend the verse that says, "work out your salvation with fear and trembling."

Still more time passed. Hal greeted my brother one morning and seemed particularly pensive. It was his way to sit quietly for a few moments before coming to the point. Finally he asked, "Steve, do you think Paul wrote the Epistle to the Hebrews?"

Steve coughed. This was not exactly a question Steve had anticipated from his engineering friend that morning. Finally he answered, "No, Hal, I don't." Hal then urged him to support his thesis. Steve, a Sunday school teacher, said, "The King James Version says 'Paul's Epistle to the Hebrews, but most modern scholars feel someone else wrote it. I have no idea who it was."

Hal listened carefully. Then he replied, "Me, I'm pretty sure Apollos was the true author."

The room was very quiet. Steve said, "Hal, do you mind if I ask what got you going on that particular tangent?"

"Well, Steve," replied Hal, "Long as I'm gonna be settin' there an hour and a half, I figure I might as well be gettin' some background information while they're leapin' back and forth across the pews."

I'll never forget a conversation I had with my pastor when I was a high school student at youth camp. He told me, "Faith is mind plus heart, Rob. God provides the Bible so we'll have objective guidance --something in black and white. He provides the Spirit so we'll have something personal and emotional. Without the written Word, we'd go off in every crazy direction; without the Spirit, we'd be unbearable legalists. Life is a quest for the perfect balance between the two."

After twenty-five years, that still strikes me as wise advice. The history of the Church reads, in part, as a constant dialogue--sometimes a battle--between mind and heart; objective and subjective; thinking and feeling. There's something in each of us that wants to sit quietly and get the background information; another part that needs a good roll down the aisle every now and then. I must confess I haven't leaped over a pew in quite some time. Like Hal, I'm a background information kind of guy. Somewhere in the middle, where heart and mind are married, maybe we find the church as it was meant to be. And that's a wedding I'd roll straight down the aisle to be a part of.

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