Austin Carty - High Points and Lows: Life, Faith, and Figuring It All Out

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Table of Contents

For my dad, Seadog, who was always man enough
to tell me he loved me

Whether there was anything but imagination in the faith, or anything but egoism in the love, God knows. I dont.

C. S. Lewis

Coke on the Rocks

Back when I used to drink more than I do today, I loved beer and whiskey. Something about Jack Daniels, with its south-of-the-Mason-Dixon-Line bottle and classic black-and-white label, made me feel nostalgic: I think it was a false sense of Southern pride, as though drinking Jack somehow supported an argument that our side actually won the Civil War. On the other hand, beer screamed masculinity. It told the world that I was from humble roots, that I was lower than the rich folks who drank martinis and gin, and proud not to be one of them.

The catch is that I was never really a big drinker. Sure, I tried to party hard, tried to be a rebel, but it just didnt take. I was too soft, too polished, too nice and caring. I didnt want to get plastered and say rude things to people, and I never got drunk enough to think I could beat up guys three times my size. Still, like the little engine that could, I would be at a party three to four nights a week, beer or whiskey in hand, toasting to Lord only knows what.

But there were also times when I would go through spiritual peakstimes when Id be riding Jesus highs and want to display my love for Gods Son by no longer drinking. During these fleeting spurts of religiosity there was nothing Id love more than hanging out at a party or bar without a beer or whiskey in hand. I wanted everyone to ask me why I wasnt drinking so I could answer, in an oh-so-condescending way, Because Im a Christian.

It took me years to realize that I wasnt abstaining from drinking because I desperately wanted to please God; instead I desperately wanted for people to say, Austins a good Christian. In other words, for the first quarter century of my life I went through the motions of religiosity in hopes that people would think me a good guy. And what Im ashamed to admit is that I was foolish enough to think this made any difference to God.

I still frequently find myself in places where alcohol is being served, and I remember how I used to think of them as battlefields where I could make heroic Christian stands. In days past, when I would make a show of not drinking, Id sometimes hold a glass of water in my hand, raising it every few seconds to my lips just so everyone could see that I was only drinking water. Now on nights when I dont feel like having a drink, Ill order a Coke instead of water, but Ill ask for it to be served in a highball glass, on the rocks.

The one remarkable truth about Christianity is that its all a matter of the heart. You can avoid curse words your whole life, bake brownies every day for bake sales, lead prayer meetings at your house, never touch alcohol, never have premarital sex, and still, if it isnt because you really believe that Jesus is still alive and you love him for it, youre wasting your time. That is the beauty of the Christian religion, and also the rub. Only each individual can determine whether hes committed, abstaining, practicing, etc. for the real reason.

In days past, my ultimate faith high would come from hearing that someone thought I was a good Christian. This would excite me for a few seconds, but then I would feel as if I needed to hear it from someone else, because in truth what I really needed was to prove to myself that I was a good Christian. What I have finally discovered is very simple: the opinions of others dont satisfy my faith. Instead, it is my assurance that I know Jesus that gives me the peace I crave.

Trust me, I still love to discuss faith. But these days Im determined not to flaunt it, because the moment I do my faith becomes a crutch, a social club, a membership I maintain in order to feel that my life is important. Thats why, until the topic materializes of its own accord, I bide my time with a highball glass in hand, laughing and forming friendships with people who dont necessarily believe the same things I do. And when my drink runs low I mosey over and get the barkeeps attention. When he asks me what I want, I smile and tell him: Coke on the rocks.

More than a Number

Now, for the ultimate test of whether or not you are saved, said the famous evangelist.

My heart was racing as I awaited the Jesus litmus test, a test I had apparently gone eighteen years as a Christian without taking or even being aware of. I was petrified. What if Im not saved, I suddenly thought. Is it possible that all this time Ive been deluding myself? How could there be a simple test for this that I dont know about?

My legs were trembling, and so was my entire faith foundation, something I had considered rock solid before Famous Evangelist showed up. I was looking on with fear and anticipation, eagerly awaiting his next words. But instead of continuing, Famous Evangelist paused. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, building suspense.

Famous Evangelistwho incidentally looked exactly like Don Flamenco from the video game Mike Tysons Punch-Out!!was the featured speaker at my Christian colleges Spiritual Emphasis Week during my freshman year. Now, ten years later, I remember how deftly he employed his oratorical skill, and the way he balanced humor and pathos. Just before beginning his first speech, he told us that he had come straight from an event at a college up north. At that event, he said, 362 people had been saved. He quickly emphasized that he hadnt told us that figure in order to brag, but rather to demonstrate the power of God. I didnt care why he told us hed saved 362 people; I just wondered how he knew it was 362. This seemed to me an impossibly difficult and specific number to come by.

In one of his speeches, Famous Evangelist told us all about his baby son, relating touching anecdotes about the boys birth and his first steps, about his first illness and his love for his daddy. Then Famous Evangelist told us about how much God loved his Son, the man we knew as Jesus, and he explained to us how much it hurt God to sacrifice his Son. Suddenly, all the lights in the gymnasium went out and music boomed overhead, kind of like when the Jordan-era Bulls announced its starting lineup. Then a screen fell from the sky and images began appearing. They were images of Famous Evangelists son: pictures of the young boy in Halloween outfits, of him with chocolate smeared across his cheeks, of him holding his daddys hand at the edge of the ocean. The next thing we knew, Famous Evangelist was crying. He was telling us how much he loved his son, how he loved him too much to sacrifice him, how he couldnt fathom the depth of Gods love because he, himself, wouldnt be able to make the same sacrifice that God did.

Now, Famous Evangelist was arguably the most gifted speaker Ive ever heard, which explains why I was waiting with such rapt attention for him to tell me how to take the salvation test. Looking back on it, I think I imagined that this test would be something practical, like peeing on a plastic stick and waiting to see whether it came up pink or blue.

The ultimate test, he finally said, is this: are you keeping his commandments?

Famous Evangelist slowly paced back and forth across the stage, sighing into the microphone. Jesus tells us that

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