(This is from the book I am currently reading, Jesus for President by Chris Haw and Shane Claiborne, pg. 217-18 Every time I read this story I cry and rejoice at the same time. Enjoy.)
Jesse arrived for boot camp at Fort Benning not sure what to expect. He was handed a gun and joined all the recruits marching in formation. As he marched, he internalized what he was training for, and the gun got heavier and heavier. Jesse felt a mysterious but clear whisper from God that God did not want him to kill or to carry a gun. The discomfort became more than he could bear, and he tried quietly to break formation to talk with the sergeant. Not so quick. “What the f*** are you doing, soldier?” the sergeant blasted.
Jesse said gently, “I need to talk with you. I have a problem.”
“What the f***’s your problem, soldier?” he shouted in front of all the others.
With all hope for a quite private conversation squelched, Jesse told his sergeant, “As we were marching, I felt like God didn’t want me to carry a weapon. I felt like I should love my enemies, and that means not killing them.”
The sergeant fumed. “Get on your knees, soldier,” he said. And he had the other soldiers march in a circle around Jesse. “Soldiers, do you want to see what a piece of s*** looks like? … Left, right, left … This is a piece of s***. Left, right …”
On his knees, Jesse thought of how kneeling is a posture for prayer. He felt like insults and principalities and powers were swarming him. Humiliated and hurt, he could feel Jesus so near. The soldiers tore the cross from his neck. They ripped the flag from his uniform, insisting that he was unworthy to wear the red, white, and blue. He was handcuffed and taken into custody, branded as a deserter. In the holding area, his handcuffs were removed, and he was free to move about. Somehow he still had his cell phone. (Hmm.)
He decided to call for a cab and leave the rest in God’s hands. Taxis move freely on and off the base, transporting soldiers, careful, of course, not to violate security. So Jesse left the area and hid in the bushes to wait for the cab. After what felt like hours, he saw it pull into the long drive.
When he hopped into the taxi, he was greeted by a lovely old Southern woman. “Hey there, soldier,” she said. “Where you headed?”
“To the Greyhound station,” Jesse said.
She saw where the patches had been torn from his uniform, and she said, “I ain’t accusin’ you of anything, but I’d better say that we’re not allowed to transport no AWOL soldiers. I’m not sayin’ you’re AWOL. But if you are, you should know that I ain’t allowed to take you anywhere. And you should also know that soldiers are stationed to check for AWOL soldiers at the bus station.”
Silence, and Jesse felt a moment of hopelessness, but then she continued. “So just in case you were AWOL, you would want me to take you by the Wal-Mart so you can get a change of clothes.” And she smirked.
Jesse smiled. “Uhh, come to think of it, can we make a pit stop before the bus station? I need to swing by Wal-Mart.”
They laughed as she pulled up to the Wal-Mart superstore, which to Jesse had never looked so appealing. With soldiers in uniform all around him, he ran into the store, knowing that he could be spotted easily and all would be ruined. He grabbed the first clothes he could find, darted to the checkout counter to buy them, and ran back to the getaway car outside. In the taxi, he squeezed into his new outfit, which was nowhere near the right size. He gave his new friend a hefty tip, made it safely onto his bus and headed home. To Jesse it seemed like God did not want him to carry a gun and was able to make a way when there seemed to be no way out.*
*This is a true story. Shortly after arriving in his small hometown in Illinois, Jesse found his face on wanted posters plastered around town. In a lovely act of revolutionary subordination, he turned himself in and was eventually legally discharged along with many other soldiers. Soon after that, he came to visit us here at the Simple Way.
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