Seeking order when Mister Jimmy teaches

The bustle at Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains begins early Sunday morning.

By the time the sun rises, people are lining up outside, buzzing like a crowd at a Hollywood movie premiere. They’re here for Sunday school and will stay for the service that follows. And just so you know: The church doesn’t take reservations to guarantee a seat, no matter how much you’re willing to drop into the collection plates that will come your way — twice.

That’s how it works when your Sunday school teacher is former President Jimmy Carter.

“Mister Jimmy” has long taught the classes, even when he was president, church members say. But the sessions have gotten more attention lately, after the 91-year-old announced he’s being treated for brain cancer. Some Sundays, the crowds have overwhelmed, with the world’s media covering Carter.

The Sundays have now settled into a routine — and what a routine it is. A visit last Sunday revealed the charm of Plains and its people and the no-nonsense efficiency required when a small-town church transforms into an international destination.

When you step into the church, after a Secret Service check, it only takes a moment to realize Jan Williams is in charge. She’s a church member and friend of Carter.

The sanctuary and overflow room fill up fast, and at 9, “Miss Jan” begins the orientation, which actually serves as a warmup act.

On this Sunday, Williams’ microphone needs new batteries, so she busies herself with moving people into the overflow room, where they’ll watch on video.

“They are as happy as they could be,” she notes.

Then, mic in hand, she lets everyone know the church has some rules for the morning; but her down-home and hu- morous delivery at once makes visitors feel comfortable and committed to doing what they’re told.

“We’ve had people tell us that this is the first time they’ve ever been to church,” she says. “So we have to be on our best behavior.”

Then she gets down to business:

Stay seated when President Carter enters the church.

No applause when he enters or leaves, “even if he says something funny.”

When Carter enters, he’ll say, “Good morning,” and he expects an enthusiastic “Good morning!” in return from the crowd. “Don’t holler at him, but say it so he knows you’re awake.”

He’ll ask the crowd where they’re from, expecting people to shout out a state or country. But once your state or country is mentioned and acknowledged by Carter, don’t repeat it. She makes the crowd practice this.

It’s OK to snap a photo before Carter begins the lesson, but not once he starts. “We’re here to worship, not make pictures.”

Carter will ask if there are any ministers present. If you raise your hand, he may ask you to offer a prayer.

The church will pass around a wooden collection plate (made by Carter, who’s also a “good plumber”) during the Sunday school lesson. Another will come by during the service.

If you stay for the service, Williams reminds everyone, afterward you can get your picture taken with Carter. When Carter and his wife, Rosalynn, finally enter the sanctuary, after a brief stop in the overflow room, he’s well aware of Miss Jan’s conversation with the faithful.

“Anyone here feel under-instructed?” he asks.

His lesson focused on modern sexual morality and Christian values.

“I’m a little uncertain on this subject,” he said.

He stepped onto the slippery slope by acknowledging the realities of modern media, and how casual sex before marriage and even outside a marriage seems normal. But he also cautioned the crowd against harsh judgments of people, noting Jesus Christ’s acts of forgiveness, even for a prostitute.

The highlight: He talked about his infamous interview with Playboy magazine during his presidential campaign.

After the Sunday school lesson, it’s time for a brief break and the service.

Because it was the day after Carter’s 91st birthday, the crowd sings “Happy Birthday” as part of the musical selections.

When the service ends, Williams gets folks lined up for their pictures. They’ve been told her rules for this part, too. Get your cam- era ready. Hand it to Jill Stuckey, who also helps with things each Sunday. Don’t shake Carter’s hand (health reasons) or say more than hello (it slows down the line).

If your picture doesn’t come out, you can get back in line.

And while Miss Jan’s rules are strictly enforced, everyone gets their picture within 40 minutes or so. And they have their souvenir.

It’s tough to not be charmed by what goes on in this church on Sundays, no matter your political persuasion or your opinion about Carter and his causes.

He’s engaged and energetic and clearly not just going through the motions. Of course, as a politician, he learned long ago how to work a crowd, and he hasn’t lost his touch.

As I watched him, I could see he’s tired. You might wonder why he’s doing this.

But from the first word of his illness, he’s been public about it.

On his long list of accomplishments, he seems determined to add one more: showing the world how to confront a terrifying diagnosis and where it leads.

And his approach has led many pilgrims to Plains, where they get to see up close his way of living a life to its fullest.