In my maternal heritage, there was a firmly held conviction that it was a sin to go to the “motion picture house.” This cherished law was triply valid for going on a Sunday. As a result, I did not go to the movies. But there were exceptions. I remember being dropped off at Grandma Saulsbury’s house as Mom, her sister, and my older brother went to see “Gone with the Wind.” I threw a “break dancing” tantrum on the floor just inside the front door.
My first memory of viewing a movie was “Davie Crockett.” Floating around in my memory is the possibility that we also went to see “Pinocchio.” My hero in the story was Jiminy the Cricket.
Somewhere in my social development, I heard someone use “Jiminy Cricket” to amplify the intensity of what they were saying. In my home, we were not allowed to use “golly,” “gosh,” “heck,” or “darn.” So, when I tried out “Jiminy Cricket,” I got no reprisal. As a result, the term was added to my acceptable colloquial vernacular. Occasionally, the words would fling out of my mouth as I preached.
Eventually, on a Monday morning, one older and trusted brother took me aside and explained the term’s origin. I was mortified! As it turns out, “Jiminy Crickey” has been a minced oath for “Jesus Christ” since at least 1803. Other than writing it here, I have never used the term again.
I have watched “Pinocchio” several times since and have read the Little Golden Book by the same title multiple times to my kids and now grandkids. Each time I read the books or see the film, I ponder the Jiminy the Cricket character with a mind that evaluates this “minced oath.”
Though Pinocchio was given life, it was incomplete; he lacked the wisdom to choose between right and wrong or good and best. Like Pinocchio, we were/are living without life. Jiminy Cricket was to be the little wood puppet boy’s consciousness until he became a real, fully human boy. Jiminy’s purpose was to guide Pinocchio to make good moral decisions.
I wonder if we have reduced Jesus Christ only to be our attending moral guide. I have proudly worn the WWJD bracelets. When I filter those letters through my developed theology, I hardily agree. However, if “What Would Jesus Do” is relegated to be a means of maintaining a moral code, then the letters are only a personal vanity license plate I attached to my rear bumper. Jesus is not a person I seek to emulate. He was never meant to be a “role model.” He is my life itself. Jesus doesn’t make my life better or more acceptable to God; he is my new identity as a human being. His life has replaced my old life. God the Father does not accept me into His kingdom; He accepts His Son. The unfathomable work of the Holy Spirit does the impossible by totally replacing Fred’s life with Jesus’.
The difficulty of getting my mind to grasp what I am saying does not change the eternal reality. This grace of God is what Jesus was talking about with Nicodemus when he told him that Nicodemus must be “born again.” (John 3) But every day I devote my attention to looking for and listening to God, I learn more of this mind-boggling metamorphosis occurring in me. It’s not easy. It’s not pain-free. It’s pretty mortifying at times because I like to think what I think is always right.
I realize that is a lot to take in, to wrap your mind around. It is so counterculture. Yet it remains an absolute fundamental truth. I pray that the rest of my days will be marked and measured by my endeavor to fully understand this Divine and eternal reality.
Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. We all, with unveiled faces, are looking as in a mirror at the glory of the Lord and are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory; this is from the Lord, who is the Spirit. (2 Corinthians 3:17-18 CSB, bold is mine)
Photo – An old tree just north of Shelbyville, Tennessee. Notice the vulture perched on the top.
Baldwin Heirlooms 