Erica and the King James Wall
Erica and the King James Wall
A few years ago a woman came into my life looking for my sister. We’ll call her Erica. I’ve never met Erica in person. My sister has, and my sister said the same thing I noticed over the phone: Erica is combative. She argues like breathing. She went to school, got her MBA, graduated. She tells you she’s educated in the first five minutes. To me, a degree doesn’t mean anything by itself. It doesn’t make you kind. It doesn’t make you right.
We stopped talking. Then we started again recently. Nothing had changed.
Erica’s idea of God is different from mine. She hides behind a King James Bible. To her, Jesus becomes God, full stop, end of discussion. For me, Jesus is the Son of God. And God is bigger than any one verse, any one translation, any one person’s certainty. I think people who only read King James move through the world differently than those who’ve sat with other translations. The language is beautiful, but it can also become a weapon. “Thus saith the Lord” hits different when you’re using it to win an argument instead of to understand your neighbor.
The last straw was when she said, “You don’t read the Bible.”
She doesn’t know what I read. She doesn’t know that I got baptized in Salem with “Lord have mercy” on my lips.She doesn’t know that when I read the Bible I try to live it. It’s engraved in me. I make mistakes. I get angry. I judge back. Then I talk with God. I pray to God. I apologize to God. That relationship isn’t a degree. It isn’t a translation. It’s a practice.
Erica is quick to judge and lives a life I don’t agree with. But the truth is, I don’t have to agree with her life. I don’t even know her life. I’ve never sat at her table. I’ve only heard her voice in my ear, sharp, certain, ready to correct. My sister saw the same thing face to face. Some people use education the way others use scripture: as proof they don’t have to listen.
I haven’t traveled much. But I’ve learned about other religions through books and videos. I’ve learned that God is bigger than America, bigger than English, bigger than 1611. I’ve learned that faith without curiosity turns to stone. I’ve learned that you can memorize every red letter and still miss the point if you can’t sit with someone who disagrees with you and not need to win.
I don’t think less of Erica for reading King James. I think less of how she uses it to build a wall between us. Jesus didn’t come to hand out MBA-level theology degrees. He came to sit with people. Tax collectors. Sex workers. The mentally ill. The ones who didn’t have the “right” words.
I’m not going to argue with Erica anymore. I’m not going to defend my Bible reading or my God to her. I’m going to keep praying, keep working, keep learning, keep loving myself in my natural hair. I’m going to keep letting the Bible teach me, even when it convicts me. Especially when it convicts me.
A degree means nothing if you can’t be gentle. A verse means nothing if you can’t be humble.
I don’t need Erica to agree with me. I just don’t need to be in combat anymore. I’ve already been to jail. I’ve already fought for my life.
Now I’m fighting for my peace.
