I had finished 2 1/2 years of college and some work before I went on active duty in the naval reserve. But the world I encountered was far more complex than what I had seen up to that point.
As I began to get to know the guys on my ship and discuss my beliefs with them I realized that I was ill-prepared to answer all their questions. I had been a Christian for years already but had never encountered real challenges to my faith.
As I began to meet the guys and get to know them I encountered the following. One guy was a red-blooded Christian who believed the Vietnamese (who we were in a war with at the time) were just like dogs. He wanted to kill them all. He believed that's all they deserved. Though he professed to "loving" Jesus I couldn't stomach his pure hatred for other creations of God.
Another fellow I met was practicing voodoo on board the ship when we were out to sea. He would go out to the rescue boat on our ship after dark and practice his religion. Although I never chatted with him much I heard about his "faith".
Two other fellows were obviously effeminate. They shared their plans with everyone on the ship as they were preparing to get out of the navy. They were going to leave their wives and join two other men and live as homosexual couples. Again, not something I had talked about in Sunday School.
One of the other guys was a professing Mormon. Seemed like a nice guy, quiet, clean cut but didn't seem to mix with the crew very well.
The guy who challenged me the most was a fellow who professed to being a metaphysician. I was vocal about my faith as any good Baptist raised kid was. I knew enough to get someone saved. In fact, I probably had a PhD in salvation from all the biblical sermons and altar calls I had experienced in my growing up years.
But this guy really stopped me in my tracks. As we shared our beliefs, he would always challenge me with the question, "How do you know God exists?" That's when I realized that the best answer I could give him was because "My Mommy told me so!" That's how deep my theology was at that time.
It was about this time that we encountered the backpackers in Athens, Greece at the English-speaking church service. They pointed me to Francis Schaeffer and his book The God Who Is There. It gave me the framework to begin understanding where the metaphysician was coming from.
Francis Schaeffer had come to his own crisis of faith in his early 50's and spent 3 years reading his Bible and pacing around a chalet in the Swiss Alps. He arrived at the conclusion that God did exist and the Bible was true. Subsequently, his children began to bring their college mates home and he developed a way to help them see the end of their philosophies. They fell short in their claims and he led them to faith in Christ and belief in the Bible. His home in Switzerland became known as L'Abri and young people from all over the world began to flock there to find faith from an intellectual base.
After reading Schaeffer's book and others as well as a trip to Switzerland (I'll share about that some other time) I began a time of discussions with the metaphysician. We would stand on the bridge (an unoccupied space when in port) and discuss the reality of God and what I saw him doing in the world. There was always a crowd of other guys standing around listening to us discuss. That fellow never came to faith that I am aware of but the discussions impacted others on the ship and the body of Christ grew among us.
I had finally owned my own faith and it was deeper than the pat answer I was able to give before...because "My Mommy told me so."
I've often wondered--Who is carrying the mantel that Francis Schaeffer did in that time? Who is answering the intellectual questions of those God-seekers who are searching for truth and reality. Speaking to them in tongues probably isn't going to bring them to faith. Neither is the flashy, loud, screaming TV preacher. Who is helping those of us with a rational mind find a child-like faith in the Father?
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Jesus Freaks
A few years ago Pat mentioned that she and I were Jesus Freaks to someone that was a generation younger than us. They laughed, hadn't heard the term and were surprised that we would want to be called such.
It was popularized during the late 60's, early 70's. With the hippie movement and all its drugs, free love (cheap sex) and other revolutionary ideas about our culture there came a resurgence of a personal relationship with Jesus. It wasn't typically encouraged in main stream denominational churches. It had tastes of the hippie culture from ocean baptisms in CA to the congregating of east coast surfers in growing charismatic churches. Young people were looking for meaning but weren't ready to give up their bell-bottomed jeans, long hair and off beat persona.
I had walked away from my involvement in church as a senior in high school. It was costing me friends by being a "Christian" and I didn't see much difference in their life style and that of the kids outside of church. But after wandering around in college for a couple of years I was longing for meaning and something to invest my life in. I returned to a small Baptist church in Reynoldsburg, OH where I was living at the time.
It just so happened (Ha) that a radical Baptist pastor named Arthur Blessitt was dragging a cross across the US, preaching where he could, bringing kids out of the drug culture into a relationship with Jesus. He had florescent orange stickers with a peace symbol on them that pointed to Christ. He told of druggies, hippies, bikers, prostitutes and others who weren't typically welcomed in church finding peace and release in Jesus. He really believed that the Acts of the Apostles could be lived again. At 20 I was hungry to see that too.
In fact I had walked away from the church because it didn't seem relevant to the issues I was facing. To hear that the Gospel was powerful enough to set people free was just what I was looking for.
I jumped on board and began the ride of a life time. I became hungry to read the Bible and spent time with a close friend four years my junior who was as passionate about following God as I was. We shared our faith with others and spent time reading the Bible.
Soon I was called to active duty in the navy. I had dropped out of college and lost my deferment. When I arrived on my ship I discovered that my chaplain was a Pentecostal. Many of the chaplains were just as carnal as the rest of the crew and took the navy as a way to avoid serving in a congregation. He introduced me to a charismatic church that was drawing kids from the beach culture to Christ.
During my time in the navy I continued to see God move in remarkable ways. We fellowshipped with sailors from other ships in our NATO fleet. I served as protestant lay leader on our ship since none of the officers wanted to do it. That involved holding worship services onboard when out to sea. At one point the chaplain from the carrier wanted to have me ousted because I wasn't ecumenical enough but the crew "revolted" and the captain asked him to return to the carrier and not come back. We had Bible studies and guys came to know God. Sometime I'll write about the discussions we had on the bridge when in port with the metaphysician.
We met Christians when we came to ports around the Mediterranean. Someone gave me a book to study called Youth Aflame by Winky Pratney. I studied it while at sea. We worked in a Youth With A Mission coffeehouse in Copenhagen, Denmark and did some street evangelism on another cruise. With met kids in Athens, Greece who introduced me to Francis Shaeffer that resulted in a trip to Switzerland later in the cruise. We knew that we were on a trek that was led by the Holy Spirit at the expense of the navy.
I remember writing letters back home to friends about the things we were experiencing. One of my friends said it was like getting letters from a modern day apostle Paul.
So what is God doing today that resembles the Jesus Freaks...those who were sold out to Jesus and following him?
It was popularized during the late 60's, early 70's. With the hippie movement and all its drugs, free love (cheap sex) and other revolutionary ideas about our culture there came a resurgence of a personal relationship with Jesus. It wasn't typically encouraged in main stream denominational churches. It had tastes of the hippie culture from ocean baptisms in CA to the congregating of east coast surfers in growing charismatic churches. Young people were looking for meaning but weren't ready to give up their bell-bottomed jeans, long hair and off beat persona.
I had walked away from my involvement in church as a senior in high school. It was costing me friends by being a "Christian" and I didn't see much difference in their life style and that of the kids outside of church. But after wandering around in college for a couple of years I was longing for meaning and something to invest my life in. I returned to a small Baptist church in Reynoldsburg, OH where I was living at the time.
It just so happened (Ha) that a radical Baptist pastor named Arthur Blessitt was dragging a cross across the US, preaching where he could, bringing kids out of the drug culture into a relationship with Jesus. He had florescent orange stickers with a peace symbol on them that pointed to Christ. He told of druggies, hippies, bikers, prostitutes and others who weren't typically welcomed in church finding peace and release in Jesus. He really believed that the Acts of the Apostles could be lived again. At 20 I was hungry to see that too.
In fact I had walked away from the church because it didn't seem relevant to the issues I was facing. To hear that the Gospel was powerful enough to set people free was just what I was looking for.
I jumped on board and began the ride of a life time. I became hungry to read the Bible and spent time with a close friend four years my junior who was as passionate about following God as I was. We shared our faith with others and spent time reading the Bible.
Soon I was called to active duty in the navy. I had dropped out of college and lost my deferment. When I arrived on my ship I discovered that my chaplain was a Pentecostal. Many of the chaplains were just as carnal as the rest of the crew and took the navy as a way to avoid serving in a congregation. He introduced me to a charismatic church that was drawing kids from the beach culture to Christ.
During my time in the navy I continued to see God move in remarkable ways. We fellowshipped with sailors from other ships in our NATO fleet. I served as protestant lay leader on our ship since none of the officers wanted to do it. That involved holding worship services onboard when out to sea. At one point the chaplain from the carrier wanted to have me ousted because I wasn't ecumenical enough but the crew "revolted" and the captain asked him to return to the carrier and not come back. We had Bible studies and guys came to know God. Sometime I'll write about the discussions we had on the bridge when in port with the metaphysician.
We met Christians when we came to ports around the Mediterranean. Someone gave me a book to study called Youth Aflame by Winky Pratney. I studied it while at sea. We worked in a Youth With A Mission coffeehouse in Copenhagen, Denmark and did some street evangelism on another cruise. With met kids in Athens, Greece who introduced me to Francis Shaeffer that resulted in a trip to Switzerland later in the cruise. We knew that we were on a trek that was led by the Holy Spirit at the expense of the navy.
I remember writing letters back home to friends about the things we were experiencing. One of my friends said it was like getting letters from a modern day apostle Paul.
So what is God doing today that resembles the Jesus Freaks...those who were sold out to Jesus and following him?
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Leader of the Band
Last night brought back a lot of memories. We heard the Lancaster Symphony Orchestra.
Coming from KY where all the rednecks live (at least that's what the outside world thinks) I experienced some world class opportunities. One of the things my school system did in Louisville was take us to the symphony. It was a bus trip that got us out of class and that's the way we looked at it.
But my life was transformed the first time I heard live music played by an orchestra. I had always loved music and enjoyed listening to our hi fi, turning up the bass and "feeling" the music. But nothing compares to the opportunity to hear live music played. I remember sitting on the edge of my seat in the balcony, eyes darting back and forth to the different sections of the orchestra that were called to play by the conductor.
The music would ebb and flow...first quietly, then with all the vigor the instruments could muster at the hands, arms and lips of their players.
Passion was on the faces of those who played. They weren't just running a bow across some strings, they were talking with deep emotion using the instrument that had become a very part of them. It was drama without words and stirred our emotions.
Last night I was reminded again of the pomp and circumstance of an orchestra. The first chair in the violin section was a focal point of the orchestra. In fact, first chair in any section carried with it respect and leadership. Aside from the tails, it's fun to think about the duel of the first chair with others who are competing for their spot. It's as intense as a football game can be only they were knocking instruments and not helmets.
Respect was conveyed and appreciation was humbly accepted. The various instrumentalists were caught glancing back and forth at each other, obviously enjoying the making of music with each other. The first chair was pointing out things and drawing their colleagues to more depth.
The featured guest soloist between focus times, stood there with great facial expressions feeling the music and with glances to each section calling them out to higher levels of accomplishment to give the audience an opportunity to share in the emotional exilaration with them.
Back to the first symphony I saw as a teen...the conductor! I remember sitting there watching the whole thing unfold and saying to myself that I wanted to be a conductor. I wanted to practice with the different sections of "instruments" in a organization until they had their part down and then blend them all together to play the "piece". I wanted to help others reach their full potential and mix together with others to delight the "audience". I wanted to conduct.
It's obvious that watching an orchestra play that they didn't sit down 15 minutes before the performance and pull that off. It took hours of coaching and practice to bring them all together. The same with any organization. No one can make lasting changes overnight. It takes a long time to change the culture of an organization whether it is religious or secular.
I still want to be a conductor in the lives of an organization. Where is that stage for me, Father, to bring glory to you?
Coming from KY where all the rednecks live (at least that's what the outside world thinks) I experienced some world class opportunities. One of the things my school system did in Louisville was take us to the symphony. It was a bus trip that got us out of class and that's the way we looked at it.
But my life was transformed the first time I heard live music played by an orchestra. I had always loved music and enjoyed listening to our hi fi, turning up the bass and "feeling" the music. But nothing compares to the opportunity to hear live music played. I remember sitting on the edge of my seat in the balcony, eyes darting back and forth to the different sections of the orchestra that were called to play by the conductor.
The music would ebb and flow...first quietly, then with all the vigor the instruments could muster at the hands, arms and lips of their players.
Passion was on the faces of those who played. They weren't just running a bow across some strings, they were talking with deep emotion using the instrument that had become a very part of them. It was drama without words and stirred our emotions.
Last night I was reminded again of the pomp and circumstance of an orchestra. The first chair in the violin section was a focal point of the orchestra. In fact, first chair in any section carried with it respect and leadership. Aside from the tails, it's fun to think about the duel of the first chair with others who are competing for their spot. It's as intense as a football game can be only they were knocking instruments and not helmets.
Respect was conveyed and appreciation was humbly accepted. The various instrumentalists were caught glancing back and forth at each other, obviously enjoying the making of music with each other. The first chair was pointing out things and drawing their colleagues to more depth.
The featured guest soloist between focus times, stood there with great facial expressions feeling the music and with glances to each section calling them out to higher levels of accomplishment to give the audience an opportunity to share in the emotional exilaration with them.
Back to the first symphony I saw as a teen...the conductor! I remember sitting there watching the whole thing unfold and saying to myself that I wanted to be a conductor. I wanted to practice with the different sections of "instruments" in a organization until they had their part down and then blend them all together to play the "piece". I wanted to help others reach their full potential and mix together with others to delight the "audience". I wanted to conduct.
It's obvious that watching an orchestra play that they didn't sit down 15 minutes before the performance and pull that off. It took hours of coaching and practice to bring them all together. The same with any organization. No one can make lasting changes overnight. It takes a long time to change the culture of an organization whether it is religious or secular.
I still want to be a conductor in the lives of an organization. Where is that stage for me, Father, to bring glory to you?
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