It wasn’t really that long ago. It seems philosophies and mores change so quickly when you look at life in retrospective. (As retrospective as my twenty seven years allow.)
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“...come in today, come in to stay, come into my heart, Lord Jesus.” I finished singing as dozens around me enjoyed the same enlightened feeling that had just enveloped me. They had been here before as I had, and here we were again - enjoying a clean slate. I couldn’t really pinpoint when I had lost it; when my soul had taken the journey over the line from light to darkness. Maybe one or two around me were “first timers,” those who were experiencing the Holy Spirit’s ‘tug’ for the first time, but for many of us - this was a familiar journey. We had taken the walk down the aisle to the ‘altar’ to lay our sins before God. We had slid back and if we didn’t re-commit our lives to our Savior - who knows where we would end up if we ‘died in a car accident on the way home from church’ (this was always presented very dramatically and was usually a guarantee that the altar call wasn’t a complete flop for the pastor who was obviously tracking his stats) or worse - the rapture (
See: Isaiah, or is it John? No - Revelation... oh wait, it’s not in there!) happened.
Having seen those action packed seventies rapture flicks, I knew that if I survived the car wreck - that most assuredly would occur as my Father suddenly disappeared and a pile of clothes were left in the driver’s seat - I would have a chance of getting saved within seven years, but would probably die after my head was removed by a guillotine. I lived with this fear for most of my adolescence. I quaked every Sunday night during my junior high years when the preacher would ‘get a word’ that there was a young man in the crowd that was having impure thoughts and they needed to ‘get right or get left’ (Seriously - we had a modern day prophet on our hands). You can imagine the great relief I would feel when he was just having a word that there was a young lady who was drowning in some emotional sorrow.
***
Admittedly - It was a great learning experience for me. I began doubting some of the basic ‘theological’ beliefs that our charismatic church held during my last year of High School. When I entered one of that denomination’s colleges my Freshman year and took my first theology class, I was convinced I needed to make a change to somewhere that would give me a better look at theology from a post-Christ to now viewpoint. That stuff that came off Azusa Street after the Great Quake was too fabricated, too forced, didn’t last, and lacked approval from thousands of years of saints.
Much of my questioning was at the prodding of my friend, then girlfriend, and now wife. She made me question why I believed what I believed. And when I would question - a lot of the answers that typically rolled off my tongue didn’t make a lot of sense. I am forever thankful that she had studied and had continued to challenge what she believed. (See below - yep, those are “Gospel Tracts” Ang and Daniel are studying. If there is anything I have learned in my studies of theology, it is that most truth lies within those 2x4 inch booklets.) She has been the perfect wife of Proverb-like stature. I really love that she keeps our house in perfect order and that when I get home from work my dinner is ready... okay I can’t really keep going with this. She is amazing, but not because of her Martha Stewart qualities.
But Seriously, I am so glad the need for re-salvation has turned into the need for confession and communion with a God who will never leave me, and whose grasp I can never escape. (
See: The Bible - that’s in there.)
A week of reading, writing, enjoying all day with my family, wandering through the day as if it were totally mine...
