My Family and Church legacy

I first confessed Jesus Christ as Saviour from my sins and Lord of my life in July, 1960, and subsequently was baptized in the clear water of Lake James in Indiana. I was 11 years old at that time. Yet for two years I had felt the conviction of God in my spirit calling me to repentance and conversion, but had held back due to pride. I did not want to admit to others my insufficiency, my need.

I was raised in a family of seven children. My parents were churchgoers. Although somewhat nominal Christians while I was young, they have continued to grow into maturity and commitment in Christ. Dad's background was Church of the Brethren, mom's was Reformed Church, but they have been Baptists for over 30 years now.

Theologically I was raised within an evangelical framework. My parents were outspoken about moral issues, and due to their integrity and commitment to us children, I accepted much of their value system. For example, I never touched cigarettes, alcohol, nor spoke profane language. Later I have had to battle to overcome strong negative feelings toward people who have habits or values which differ from my convictions.

In my high school years I was a "straight Joe." Insecure, painfully shy, yet driven to find some expression of importance for self-esteem, I became proficient in music and wrestling, receiving some recognition and acceptance that I craved.

I attended church regularly, liked church, and was fairly scripturally literate for my age. I indeed did take God seriously, but in the context of One to deal with through duty. At 17 I went to a small church of the Brethren school in Indiana, Manchester College, not clear on life goals. By then I had developed quite a passion for nature, especially freshwater environment, and decided to major in Biology to pursue a vague goal as a limnologist (freshwater biologist).

During college I maintained my faith but not my faithfulness. I fell in some ways morally. I was certainly not responsible to fulfill the academic potential that I was gifted with. Furthermore, I became haughty and proud, a veneer to masquerade my continued insecurity and shallowness.

Nevertheless God graced me with several powerful expressions of His Spirit. One instance was what I sensed to be a distinct and unmistakable call on my lifeduring an intense night of prayer. Although the direction and task were not given, I knew that God had a purpose and plan for my life.

Another time I had a stunning "Saul on the road to Damascus" experience which changed my course from one of violence and dominative power toward one of peace and servanthood. In 1968 I was a staunch supporter of the war against communism being fought in Vietnam. Hearing about a candlelight peace vigil being held by some "peaceniks" at the college I attended, I along with some friends invaded it to jeer, harass, and disrupt. Yet it was the courageous, loving witness of those children of peace who disrupted me! Their flickering candles of witness sparked a light into the violent darkness of my heart. At that point I accepted the truth of nonviolence. Although I must confess that I continue to struggle with violence and selfishness in my heart, I desire my life to be shaped in the likeness of Jesus who is reconciler and giver.

During these college years I met the wonderful girl who has become my wife. From our first meeting I had a deep sense that God's hand was toward our togetherness. Debbie has matured into a passionately committed Christian woman with courage and vision. I know of no one else more alike me in understanding and practice of Christian faith. Interestingly, she comes to direction through spiritual intuition while I often have to wrestle intellectually as well. This she cannot understand about me.

However, our marriage was rocky at the beginning although I would not admit it. I was selfish and spiritually adrift. By then I had become addicted to pornography. Only after several years of inability to control this sin did I finally surrender. I was drowning and needed saved. In my utter weakness Jesus delivered me, the addiction vanished. I have never forgotten this miracle.

Early in our marriage my wife became pregnant. I was too self-centered to accept the responsibility of a child, so I talked her into an abortion. A few years later, June, 1975, we had just moved into what is now our present community. When I learned that Debbie was again pregnant, I telephoned an abortion clinic in Washington, D.C. and set an appointment for that next Monday.

Sunday came before Monday, and we decided to visit a nearby Church of the Brethren congregation somewhat out of curiosity as we had family roots and college ties to that denomination. Something happened to us that morning that cannot be logically analyzed but only ascribed as a working of God's Spirit through the love and witness of the people of that small congregation. Hope was rekindled in our hearts. We had found a home. And we did not go to Washington.

Jesse was born that next February, the first of our four sons. Debbie and I with our fledgling family burrowed into our new community with enthusiasm and hope. The rugged mountain beauty of West Virginia and the sincere, direct manner of our neighbors inspired us, while our community of faith nurtured us deeper in Christ.

In 1981 I chanced upon Jim Wallis's book, An Agenda for Biblical Faith. What had been simmering in my spirit for years began to take theological form. I read voraciously, subscribing to a plethora of magazines, newsletters, and journals while continuing to read a multitude of books that integrated theology and social issues. Although many streams could be mentioned, the influence of Jacques Ellul was considerable.

During this time of spiritual ferment our pilgrimage not surprisingly became rocky. Our community was skittish, disinterested with our growing passion in peace and justice issues coupled with charismatic movement teaching and fervor. They were culturally threatened with our decision to home school Jesse. We became increasingly frustrated by this impasse, boiling steam kettles without a vent. Although we made efforts to communicate, our attitudes were harsh, dogmatic. A rift became a chasm, and our idyllic church relationship became a divorce.

We traveled to a charismatic church in another community. The people there were warm, enthusiastic, passionately spiritually committed. Outreach was energetic, dedicated, bold. Yet after two years we left, skittish over looming internal power struggles, frustrated by disinterest even hostility to social justice issues, and deeply concerned over certain questionable doctrinal influences.

For a time we met with others in a house fellowship. We spent a year essentially by ourselves at home, to calm our internal storms, to seek clarity. Then, nearly 3 years ago, Debbie and I each quietly sensed a leading of God's Spirit and together we responded. We returned to our former congregation, New Hope Church. Over those several years of our absence they had not changed much. But we had.

The Christian pilgrimage is a road to brokenness. It is a downward journey often of many miles as pride kicks and bucks to climb to self-exaltation. I now am convinced that only in measure as my spirit becomes broken and contrite can I be an instrument pleasing and useful to God. I deeply desire this, even as my flesh revolts. "O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death? I thank God through Jesus Christ our Lord." (Rom. 7)

Gifts and Limitations

Sometimes I laughingly describe myself as a "theological schizophrenic." My spiritual river is watered by many trubutaries, true, but the striking point is that many of these spiritual sources are in sharp conflict with each other. An unceasing spiritual thirst has led me to slake from a wide array of Christian witness, especially during a time period approximately 1978-1988.

My roots are evangelical, and in this milieu I am generally most comfortably at home. I genuinely like the hymns (and underlying doctrines) about being "...washed in the Blood of the Lamb..." and phrases such as "saved" and "born-again." Furthermore, I am charismatic or neo-pentecostal in the sense that I believe in modern-day miracles, healing, and in the existence of a demonic spirit world which is to be warred against. A "charismatic" approach to worship is most expressive for me, with open emotion, physical movement, and spontaneity.

Yet characteristically the evangelical/charismatic has not addressed adequately for me the questions of social dimension beyond the individual and immediate family. Therefore I have sought out those who witness in a radical way discipleship to Jesus Christ as an injection into this present time and world, such as the Anabaptists (John Howard Yoder, Eberhard Arnold, The Bruderhof); Sojourners and types; radical Catholicism such as expressed by The Catholic Worker Movement, Emmanuel Charles McCarthy, and Latin American base communities. The Legend of the Grand Inquisitor by Dostoyevski has made such an incredible impression on me that I can understand how Nicolai Berdeyev could confess that the Jesus he followed was the one of that narrative. Finally, politically I have tended to be drawn toward certain expressions of anarchism although I am far from settled on that.

Thus to incorporate this wide theological spectrum with coherency has been an ongoing struggle with times of personal anguish. Discovering Jacques Ellul years ago enabled me to inductively discover a method of dialectic which could hold two or more seemingly incompatable views without the necessity of a rational synthesis. Indeed, I have come increasingly to accept that much of faith is in a certain sense irrational.

Perhaps it is a gift to have a genuine basis of appreciation and identity with a wide spectrum of Christian expression. Limitations seem most pronounced in corporate application. Can I participate in a full-fledged way with many of my evangelical brothers and sisters when I may be at severe odds on certain social/political understandings? On the other hand, can I immerse myself into social action groups who rightly discern corporate systemic sin such as racism, economic exploitation, or dominative national power, but appear skittish in addressing areas of personal accountability in the importance of living a "holy walk."

Finally both a strength and a weakness is my emotional attraction to impassioned, zealous, hot-blooded, radical expressions of faith witness, coupled with my compulsion to intellectualize matters of faith.

Theological Issues of Concern

Several theological issues continue to ferment in my spirit. Notably, how does that which happens in my life that deep down I recognize existentially as a truth of God's revelation to me, how does that correspond to scriptural and Church teaching in a manner that can lay a firm foundation for discipleship and witness?

For example, in 1968 my heart was converted from a belief in the legitimacy and efficacy of war to one of nonviolence. Yet it was many years later before I began to seek and consequently work through a degree of theological understanding and justification of this position. Furthermore, with frustration I find that I continue to have violent, aggressive, domineering traits. If there is consolation in this, perhaps it is that recognized peace witnesses such as Gandhi and Jean Goss-Mayer have learned that it is he or she who recognizes ones own violence who can then be released into a fruitful ministry of peace and reconciliation.

Indeed, I have come to believe that to openly, nakedly confess sin at the root as a cry to God and fellow brother/sister is to break the power of darkness. In the first section I have mentioned my sinful involvement and deliverance in regards to abortion and pornography. I truly feel forgiven and liberated. A current ongoing battle is with pride. I confess I am eaten up with it.

The primary theological issue that I continue to search is that of the calling and mystery of The Church. I can say without hesitation that The Church is my passion! Indeed, the metaphors of The Church as female (daughter of Zion, Bride, etc.) may be rooted deep within my male psyche in that I desire The Church to come forth as pure, beautiful, and faithful.

My hope is that The Church in faithful, radical obedience to Christ will be an instrument for God's reconciliation of Creation. That The Church so often is a whore, or is lethargic, or is paralyzed in institutionalized straight-jackets is a continuing source of grief and iconoclastic indignation to me. I resonate with Kierkegaard's Attack Upon Cristendom, as well as Barth's critique that the revelation of Jesus Christ is incompatable with what is generally construed as religion.

My vision of the local church has its basis in The Lord's Table in a common, existential manner, like that of a typical family gathered about a meal for fellowship and interaction. Central to this is the concept of the priesthood of believers, a position I tenaciously, fiercely hold. Fiercely hold, I say, perhaps due to the frustration and impotence I have experienced personally and with others as second class citizens of The Church known as laymen. I cannot be convinced that The Church will be more than a mediocre catalyst or yeast into this world for The Kingdom of Christ until all the members of The Body are full participants in the work (1Cor. 12).

To this end, living in a post-Christian age (in The United States, not necessarily elsewhere),

I am consumed by the quest for revival. How is Church revival sparked and sustained in a way that permeates a society through the transformation of souls, that The Kingdom of God can come to bear upon Earth as it is in Heaven?

Conclusion

I come to EBTS with a sense of calling and purpose charged with an urgency out of the momentous, even apocalyptic era toward which our world is lurching. The world needs Christ! Yet in parts of the world, such as The United States, complacency and materialism have lulled many into spiritual torpor. Over and over again I find evidence in my own life of this disease, yet I am no longer in despair — Christ! I believe our society is in the midst of an extraordinary crisis of Hope. It is an imperative to The Church to witness in word and life a true vision of Life even within the context of a suffering, reeling world.

It is evident to me, and likely to the reader, that I am in need of much shaping, grinding, and polishing that hopefully the seminary can to some degree impart. I have need of developing a more precise academic discipline, coherent systematized theology, and above all, a more focused and harnessed vision which can lead to a fleshing-out and fruit-bearing for the work of The Kingdom that be to the glory of God.