THE LIFE CHANGING QUESTION TO ME

garychester.org blog 11/20/08

 

It wasn't exactly a living encounter with the Son of God, but at age twelve something casually happened to me that planted significant spiritual seeds in my life.

 

I went forward in my parents' Presbyterian church to be confirmed and baptized.  I went down front because two buddies, Fergie and Duke, did.  I didn't want to be left out.  It seemed like a cool thing for a boy, about to become a teen, to do.

 

The experience did change me in one way.  I started praying regularly for the first time in my life.  But not exactly a Biblical prayer.  I'd thank God I was personally doing pretty great (not recognizing my pride, lust, and anger.  Oh well, details).  I'd also ask him to help out all the ones around me who weren't doing so hot.  And I occasionally threw in a request for world peace -- usually around Christmas.

 

I remember practically nothing about any theology taught at the church -- primarily because I never paid attention to what was being said.  My mind was on being a self-proclaimed comic with my classmates and on my exceptional ability to hit the bull’s eye (Fergie and Duke) with spit balls shot through a straw.

 

I do recall as a kid, however, my dad whispering to me in church after a reading of the Apostles Creed that this was highly important belief stuff.  But, I personally didn't care.  I was quite bored with the whole thing of church.

 

Oh, I do recall one theological point.  It came through the singing of a song at Vacation Bible School -- Jesus Loves Me.  I kind of liked that tune.  It was full of warm fuzzies.  I was more glad to get through the singing of it so we could get onto the softball game outside.

 

The most impactful thing about Bethel Presbyterian Church in Kingsport, Tennessee was the gentle kindness of the adults there.  Despite my mischief, they were quite warm and affirming -- truly loving people.  Even my main teacher was civil when he had to send me to the hallway as punishment for acting out one Sunday.  I always remembered their warm fuzzies even after I stopped attending church during my teen years and most of my 20s.

 

I never thought much about God until my mid 20s when an engaging, friendly neighbor at a Houston apartment complex asked me if I thought Jesus rose from the dead.  I responded yes.  But the question started to haunt me .  Common sense told me if that were indeed the case, then the ramifications were both all life-threatening and all life-giving to everybody and anybody, including me.

 

I figured it to be a no brainer that anyone who could rise after being dead for three days had to be the center of the universe and the center of history.  After all, that's an impossibility -- unless, of course, they just happened to be God in person.

 

And - by my late 20s -- from that neighbor's pointed question came a personal search for the meaning of life and a subsequent life-changing encounter with the living Christ.

 

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