A Switchboard for God

My friend Jimmy is a pure soul. I can’t say that about too many people in life. I can’t say that about myself. All he really wants in life is for the people in his sphere to love each other, to love enough for peace to bind them together, in everything they do. And his sphere keeps growing. His sphere defies all the normal barriers: race, politics, age, economic status, etc. There is a simplicity in Jimmy’s life. Jim loves people. But most of all, he dreams of a world where we all love each other. This is his life’s focus. 

He loves oldies from the 50s and 60s —which are never far from his earbuds— and he’s passionate about The Supremes. It still pains him after all these years that Diana Ross left the group to become a superstar, not that she wasn’t deserving but loyalty to friends is essential in Jimmy’s life. He still considers his brother’s ex-wife as his sister-in-law and works to maintain a relationship with her, no matter how insulting towards his brother she may get.  When family members stopped talking to each other because of their politics, it has been Jimmy who quietly works peace between them. Truly, all he longs for is that they remember how much they really care for and need each other. It pains him, really pains him when they stay angry.

Jim can and will tell the corniest jokes. Not just corny jokes but the kind that make you groan before you laugh. He learned this as a means to connect with people. And it makes me and countless others try to remember jokey riddles we’ve heard elsewhere so we can share them with Jim when he calls. “Hey, Mary, I’ve got a joke for you,” he starts. Jimmy brings out the unabashedly silly in each of us.

People often fret over what their purpose or spiritual gift is. Jimmy is a switchboard for God, holding together most of the people who have ever spent any time together in his world. High school friends. Church friends. Youth group friends. Work friends, even the older teens who work with him. They love him and call him “Mr. Jim.” He keeps up with everyone in one way or another AND he makes sure that we stay connected to each other through him.  “Hey, Mary,” he says to me, “Guess who I just talked with? Patty said to tell you hello.”  Patty and I haven’t seen each other nor have spoken to each other in 8 years, but that doesn’t matter. We have Jimmy.

Jimmy knows what it’s like to be bullied. A lot. He knows how others have looked down on him over his 60+ years. When he was a teen, he seemed to dread the interaction of strangers. Now he makes friends everywhere, and once he has made you a friend, he stays in touch. None of us are very far from his thoughts. His emotional growth may have been somewhat stunted when he was younger, but that only served to give him a clear focus as to what is important in this world. He hasn’t succeeded in life that way that many around him have. Most of his jobs have been in housekeeping of some sort, even as he works hunched over. He lives from meager paycheck to meager paycheck. He’s had his own issues. But Jimmy excels in quiet love.

Maybe being poor in spirit is also being single-minded, single-minded about those things which are most important to God. We, Jim’s friends, know that Jimmy will never lose touch with us if he can help it. We know that, in this age of disconnect, Jim will make sure that we stay plugged-in to each other’s lives. Maybe being poor in spirit means to be wealthy in those things that really make us into a community, a kingdom. No wonder the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to them.

In my wrestling through what it means to truly be poor ins spirit, I have a visual aid … I have Jimmy. Do you have anyone?