Crowds gather to hear Carter teach Sunday School

A little more than 100 miles southwest of Atlanta lies a bucolic hamlet surrounded by pine trees, pecan groves and peanut farms.
   
A short row of turn-of-the-century buildings, including an antiques store, trading post and modern post office, form downtown. Across the silent railroad tracks and a little ways down the road is a small Baptist church where a faith-driven man is about to begin teaching the weekly Sunday School lesson.
   
As soon as a battery of stylishly dressed Secret Service agents signal the room is secure, the class begins.
Welcome to Plains, Ga., idyllic home of the world’s most famous Sunday School teacher — former President Jimmy Carter.
   
“We had 12,739 visitors last year,” said Daniel Ariail, pastor of the 131-member Maranatha Baptist Church. The volume of visitors could be daunting for some, but not to Ariail, who simply says of the crowds, “Blessed are the flexible, for they never get bent out of shape.” He should know. He literally wrote the book — a 197-page doctoral dissertation — on how to maintain hospitality and normality under arguably bizarre circumstances, including armed guards and huge crowds attending worship.
   
“We’re a small church with a worldwide outreach,” said Ariail.
   
He is, of course, referring to the global draw of his most famous yet eminently accessible congregant, 79-year-old Jimmy Carter. Despite a grueling work schedule, he somehow manages to teach Sunday School at the tiny country church 35 to 40 weeks out of the year.
   
A few minutes before 10 a.m., Carter and his wife, Rosalynn, arrive without fanfare and enter the sanctuary via a noisy and frigid waiting room jammed with “overflow” guests seated on folding chairs.
   
They will have to settle for hearing the former president deliver his lesson via closed circuit television. Only those who arrive at daybreak have a prayer of being seated in the sanctuary. Aware of this, Carter lingers in the waiting room for almost 10 minutes, chatting with the audience and answering questions.
   
Although the air conditioner has been cranked to Siberian summer so no one nods off during the videotaped service, the aura of the room grows noticeably warmer with the presence of Carter — a peanut farmer-turned-president-turned-peacemaker.
   
Perhaps it is his altruism-in-action for the poor and disenfranchised. Or his revered “elder statesman” title. But whatever “it” is, it keeps people from California to Calcutta and everywhere in between coming in droves to see how the man who once led the free world now leads a small Sunday School class for adults at Maranatha Baptist Church. Maranatha’s name means simply “Come, Lord.”
   
Carter begins this Sunday’s lesson, titled “The Lord’s Supper,” with a humorous anecdote about viewing Mel Gibson’s movie “The Passion of the Christ.”
  
“Rosalynn and I went (on a) Tuesday, thinking there wouldn’t be a big crowd since it was a weekday … but the Secret Service had to use their influence just to get us two seats together,” he said. The crowd laughs at the hominess of it all. Then Carter gets serious and the lesson officially begins.
   
Gibson did an “outstanding job,” in Carter’s opinion, of “accurately depicting Scripture.” But, he adds, “the violence was excessive” and he was “disappointed with the last scene” because he thought the resurrection of Christ was not given its full due, nor was it explained sufficiently enough for non-Christians to understand.
   
The lesson continues with a mix of Scripture, an interpretive narrative about the symbolism and significance of the Lord’s Supper and personal anecdotes.
   
One personal story included Carter’s confession that, although a born-and-bred Baptist, he routinely attended early morning Catholic services during his Navy days. He said it freed up the rest of the day to spend with his family.
   
All too soon, the lesson concludes and the teacher quietly departs the podium to take his place next to his wife, and along with the rest of the congregation, prepares to worship.
   
Later, offering plates, hand-crafted from Philippine mahogany by Jimmy Carter (also an accomplished carpenter) and hand-lined with green felt by Rosalynn, are passed around the room.
   
At the end of the service, the Carters begin the tedious process of becoming photo opportunities for the nearly 500 people who have traveled far to meet an extraordinary “ordinary” man. (RNS)