A Conversation Between a Teacher/Evangelist and Me

Shortly after becoming a Christian in Summer 1980, I was confronted by the man with whom I had studied the Bible and who had baptized me. Our conversation went something like this:

T/E:   Hey, I hear that you believe it is okay for Christians to drink alcoholic beverages. Why do you believe that?

Me:    Because that’s what the Bible teaches.

T/E:   No, it doesn’t. Christians should abstain from alcohol.

Me:    Then why does Paul say in First Corinthians 11 that the worshipers were getting drunk on the Lord’s Supper? They could only get drunk if the wine they were using was alcoholic.

T/E:   That’s not what the original Greek says. The word translated as drunk there really means “to become full”.

Me:    Then why did the translators use the word “drunk”?

T/E:   They just mistranslated it. Come to my office with me and I’ll show you.

I follow him to his office, and he pulls out his Greek New Testament and a Greek Dictionary. He opens the Bible to 1 Corinthians.

T/E:   Okay, here it is. Here’s the verse in First Corinthians you were talking about. And here’s the Greek word that is translated “drunk”. Now, let me show you what it says in the dictionary.

          He finds the word in the dictionary, but just sits there and says nothing.

Me:    So, what does it say the Greek word means?

T/E:   It says it means to be drunk. (Pauses) I’m going to have to study this more.

Me:    Okay. Let me know what you find out.

T/E:   I will.

          I never heard another word from him on the matter.

Just Long Enough - The Story of an Improbable Marriage

Growing up in Louisville, Kentucky, I was never forced to go to church. My dad never went and, since my mom didn’t drive, she hitched a ride with her cousin when she wanted to go. Sometimes I went with her. I don’t really remember anything except having a role in a Sunday School Christmas play.

As I got older, I would occasionally attend church with friends. The one visit that stands out the most was when the Sunday School teacher told us how he thought interracial marriage was frowned on by God. He said something about birds of a feather flocking together. I remember thinking that had he picked dogs for his example, a totally different conclusion would have been reached. I also wondered why God would care about who someone married since he had created us all. “But,” I thought, “I’m just a kid and he is an adult, so what do I know?”

Nothing I ever heard during my infrequent visits to church convinced me that I was a sinner in need of salvation. In fact, by the time I had reached college age, I was a deist. I believed that God existed and created the Universe, but I didn’t believe in any of the Gods of the world’s religions.

As a teenager, I was very shy. Well, as least when it came to dating girls. I had no problem being around a girl as a friend, but when it came to asking someone on a date, I froze. During my high school years, I asked exactly one girl on a date. She was someone I had known since first grade, but she turned me down. I thought perhaps I had broken the ice and asking for a date would come easier. Wrong! It didn’t help anything. Still, I had quite a few friends and was somewhat outgoing in high school. I didn’t play sports or anything, but I was in the Honor Society and the Photography Club. A group of friends and I even put together a performance for the Senior Talent Show where we sang one of my original comical songs. It was a hoot and a huge success!

During my high school years, I had crushes on several girls, but the biggest one occurred my senior year. That was when I got to know a girl by the name of Anita Zettler. I had seen her around school before, but we did not have any classes together until our senior year. I fell pretty hard for her, but still couldn’t get past the fear of dating. When prom time came, I really wanted to ask her to go with me, but I kept delaying, delaying, and delaying until I heard that someone else had asked her, and she had accepted. I was both disappointed and relieved, if you know what I mean.

Shortly after high school graduation, I finally got up the courage to call Anita. We talked for over an hour. As I enjoyed our conversation, I was secretly building up to asking her out. But before my courage reached a sufficient level, a friend knocked on the door. I let him in, and since I wasn’t about to ask for a date while my friend was listening to my every word, I ended the phone call.

So that was that. Anita went away to college while I stayed at home to attend college. I just assumed I would never see her again, so I tried to push her out of my mind and get on with my life.

Throughout college, I concentrated on my studies. There weren’t many girls in engineering school, so it was easier to avoid crushes and the agony of knowing I didn’t have the courage to ask anyone out. Also, on the religious front, I was still the same old deist.

As I was nearing the end of my college days, I was waiting for the time to move to Alabama to start my career as an engineer. I was interested in photography and astronomy, so I would sit up late reading magazines on these topics. Oftentimes I would get caught up on my magazine reading, so decided I would read the Bible from the beginning. I just wanted to see what it said; I was not on a spiritual quest. I made it through 1 Kings when it was time to move. With the full-time job, my Bible reading stopped.

In those early years at work, I was in a carpool. Two of the people in the carpool, one man and one woman, were members of the Church of Christ. At some point the woman asked me if I would like to attend church with her and one of her best friends. It turned out I recognized her friend as someone who worked at a convenience store across the street from my apartment. I wasn’t terribly interested in attending church, but I thought I’d give it a go. It turned out I really enjoyed it.

One of the things that really impressed me was how the members seemed to want to truly understand what the Bible taught and live by it. I began attending the church regularly. One Sunday my friends were out of town. I was disappointed that I couldn’t go to church, but then I realized I could attend on my own. At the end of the service, I was invited to Sunday dinner at the home of a chiropractor and his family. I accepted. I had no clue that in a few years, that man would become MY chiropractor. I had a great meal and fun fellowship.

I began studying the Bible with a man named Jim Massey. He was a teacher at the local Bible college (which was also the location of the church I was attending) as well as a preacher and an evangelist. After several weeks of study and prayer, I made the decision to become a Christian and join the church. That was in July 1980 when I was 25 years old.

I quickly got involved in the evangelistic activities of the church. One Saturday, we were meeting at the church to plan a door knocking excursion. A beautiful young girl who was attending the Bible college was there. We had met before, but I was still surprised when she came over and sat next to me. Since we were going out by twos, we agreed to be partners. I still remember her being somewhat starstruck when a well-known basketball player in our city answered the door while we were canvassing an apartment complex. Shortly afterwards we were circling around the backside of the apartment building when we came upon a pretty young girl sunbathing in a skimpy bikini. I looked at my companion and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll handle this one.” She responded, “I bet you will.” Interestingly, when we told the bikini-clad girl who we were, she responded that she was raised in the Church of Christ. We talked a bit, gave her our literature, and walked on.

Becoming a Christian changed me in several ways. One was how I viewed myself relative to others. No longer did I view myself as inferior when it came to dating. I decided that if I wanted to ask someone out, I would. If she rejected me, I was still valuable in the eyes of God. I liked this young college student, so I asked her out, and she said yes! I was nervous on that first date, but not terrified. We dated several times, but later she met another student at the Bible college who shared her desire for mission work. She broke up with me, started dating him, and later married him. It was all for the best.

One day, Jim Massey, the man with whom I had studied and who baptized me, called to give me the phone number of a young lady he thought I should call. I was a bit skeptical calling someone I had never met, but I did it anyway. I guess you can tell I was quite a different person than I had been. She accepted, and we dated several times. However, she was bit uncomfortable being several years younger than me, so it didn’t work out.

Over the following months I asked several girls on dates. Some accepted; some declined. It was all good. I no longer viewed rejection as a reflection on me as a person. There was one girl I dated off and on for quite some time. I really liked her, but we always seemed to find something on which to disagree. I finally realized it was time to move on.

Early in 1981, I was visiting my parents in Louisville, Kentucky. A good friend who had lived down the street from me as a kid invited me to go to church with him. He told me that Anita Zettler was now going to his church. She no longer went by the name Anita, but rather Kathy, which was short for her middle name, Kathleen. I couldn’t believe it. I was actually going to see the person I thought I would never see again: the girl I had a major crush on in high school.

I still remember being in Sunday School class with Anita…uh, Kathy. During open discussions, she had interesting things to say. Those old feelings began to creep back in, but I was dating someone back in Alabama at the time, so pushed them aside.

In October 1981, I was going to be back in Louisville, and I wasn’t dating anyone. I decided I was going to ask Kathy out. The Louisville Symphony was going to be performing, so that would be our entertainment for the evening. I was visiting with an old friend from junior high and high school the night I needed to call her. But no longer caring about what he might think, I told him I needed to make a call on his phone (we didn’t have cell phones in those days). I called Kathy and told her I’d like to take her out to dinner and the symphony. She accepted; I was elated.

Date day arrived. I drove to Kathy’s house to pick her up. She was living with her parents since she was teaching at a private Christian school at a low salary. We went to Sizzler for dinner and then on to the symphony. We had a great time talking, cutting up, and laughing. I always liked her laugh back in high school, especially when she was laughing at one of my jokes. Sadly, the evening came to an end. When I got back to my parents’ house, they asked me, “How did it go?” I answered, “Let me put it this way. If I had to marry someone tomorrow, she would be the one.” My mom said, “Well, it could happen.” I said, “I don’t know how. We live 300 miles apart.” She said, “Well, all it takes is 18 cents.” That was the cost of a postage stamp at that time.

I returned home to Alabama not knowing what I should do. Luckily, Kathy decided for me. I soon received a letter from her telling me how much she enjoyed our date. This encouraged me. We began writing and calling each other. Keep in mind this was in the day when long distance phone calls were expensive. Soon, we were racking up phone bills in the hundreds of dollars each month. But I didn’t care; I was falling in love. Eventually, Kathy came to Alabama to visit me. I went to Louisville whenever possible to visit her.

A short four months after our first date, I decided I was going to ask Kathy to marry me. It happened on Valentine’s Day of 1982. She said, “YES!” It was a dream come true. I even had people at work notice a change in my countenance afterwards.

We quickly started planning our wedding. We ultimately decided on July 3 of that year at her home church in Louisville. We hoped that date would allow some friends that lived in other places to attend since it would be a holiday weekend.

As the wedding date approached, we continued to visit whenever possible and send letters and make phone calls when not. The big day finally arrived, and it was great.

After our honeymoon, I told Kathy that we didn’t have to keep going to the same church I had been attending. We could visit around and see if another church better suited us as a couple. As it turned out, the first church we visited became our church. Also, in order to learn God’s word better, we began studying the Bible at home. That didn’t turn out as planned.

As we studied Genesis, I began questioning many things, and Kathy didn’t have the answers. I talked to the preacher, some deacons, and some elders at our church about my issues. None of them had the answers. Usually they would conclude, “You just have to have faith.” But that didn’t satisfy me. I wanted to know I was having faith in what was true, not just something I chose to have faith in regardless of its truthfulness. Eventually Kathy and I had to stop our private Bible studies. There were just too many unanswered questions. Ultimately, I stopped reading the Bible for fear I would lose my faith.

Five years passed. I continued to attend and participate in programs at church on a regular basis. But eventually I realized I had to confront my doubts head-on and decide what I really believed about the Bible. I started studying again on my own. Over time, the evidence became overwhelming. I could no longer believe in the resurrection of Jesus, so could no longer say I was a Christian. It was a tough time, and tears were shed by both Kathy and me. We were both concerned about how my changes in belief would affect our marriage. After all, had I not been a Christian when Kathy and I met again, she probably would not have even dated me, let alone marry me. Actually, we probably would not have even met again since I most likely would have never attended her church.

But after several discussions about our situation, it became apparent that we loved each other deeply, and neither of us had any desire to abandon our marriage. Our love was stronger than our differences.

It has been over 30 years since my deconversion and our marriage is stronger than ever. When I think of Kathy, I am reminded of the old Spiral Starecase song, “I Love You More Today Then Yesterday.” The lyrics continue with “but not as much as tomorrow.”

To this day I wonder what happened. Why did I come to truly believe the resurrection message for a little over two years, just long enough to gain confidence with women, reconnect with my high school crush, fall in love, and get married? It seems as if the whole thing was orchestrated. I often wonder if God was behind it because he knew Kathy and I belonged together, and my conversion was the only path to that end. Of course, I realize it could all just be a happy coincidence. I also frequently wonder what my life would look like had these events not taken place and I never married Kathy. I simply can’t imagine that it could in any way be better than it is. I consider myself to be very fortunate, or should I say blessed. Kathy feels the same way.

I wrote this story because I felt it was important. Perhaps it will help others in a similar situation. But even if it doesn’t, it’s still a good story. One that would make a good movie, perhaps. Well, one can dream, right? I once did and look where it took me.

First Contact – Part 29 – Supernatural

I grew up believing in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy. As all children do at some age, I eventually began to question these characters’ existence. So, you can imagine how much of a relief it was for me, at the tender age of 16, to finally prove that they were all indeed real. That is, if the figments of people’s imaginations can be considered real. But seriously, I can still remember riding in the backseat of our car when I was maybe five or six years old. I saw two or three Santas along the way on street corners. I wondered how all those Santas could be the real Santa. Mom had explained that most of them were just Santa’s helpers, but that’s not what they claimed to be. I also began questioning how Santa could slide down a chimney or squeeze through a keyhole. In other words, the rational part of my brain was beginning to kick in and question the fanciful tales I had been told. Interestingly, my son Andrew began questioning Santa’s existence when he was four. Kathy and I had determined that we would not intentionally lie to him about Santa, so if he ever asked directly, we would tell him the truth. I can still remember tucking him into bed one evening near Christmas and the conversation going like this.

Andrew: “Does Santa Claus really exist?”

Me: “What do you think?”

Andrew: “I don’t think he’s real.”

Me: “Do you want to know the truth?”

Andrew: “Yes.”

Me: “You’re right. He is not real.”

Andrew (after thinking a bit): “I think I’m going to believe in him anyway.”

Me: “That’s fine. Just don’t tell your friends. Their parents may not want them to know.”

Andrew: “I won’t.”

Andrew proceeded to pretend Santa was real. He’d go sit on his lap at the mall and leave cookies and milk out on Christmas Eve. The next morning, he’d ask Kathy and me who had eaten them. One or both of us would fess up. Kathy and I never perceived that Andrew enjoyed Christmas any less with his truthful knowledge than his friends with false knowledge.

Another part of my supernatural upbringing was that my mom was apparently a psychic. She told me that it began when she was a young girl. She was in the kitchen at home working on a meal when a voice in her head said, “The barn is on fire.” She didn’t think too much of it, but a few minutes later one of her brothers came running into the house yelling, “The barn is on fire.” From that point forward, The Voice would talk to her on occasion. The one I remember best is when she first met my new friend’s mother. The Voice told her that she and her husband were going to get a divorce. Well, it was several years later, but indeed the divorce did come to pass. When I was older, that same friend was going to the car races with his dad, and they invited me. I asked Mom if I could go. She was very hesitant about it. She finally told me that The Voice had told her something bad was going to happen. I didn’t care about The Voice, so kept pleading with her. She finally relented. My friend and I loaded into the back of his dad’s truck and left for the races. We had a great time and arrived home safely. Hey, even Jeane Dixon got it wrong occasionally.

My mom also used to tell me about spooky things she saw as a child. They were kind of like ghost stories, but supposedly true. She used to see lights bouncing around in the sky. Since this was before the days of UFO stories, she didn’t think too much about it. She would just marvel at them. One evening as she and her family were walking home from church they all saw a ball of fire approaching them from the east. As it passed overhead, her dad threw his hat at it. It continued on over the woods to the west and disappeared. She never knew what it was. But the most bizarre story she told me was about the time she had to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. At that time, potty time was not an easy time. There was no toilet in the house. They didn’t even have an outhouse. She had to go out to the field and squat. ‘Nough said. Anyway, when she went out the front door she noticed a three-story building with all the windows lit up directly across the road. That would be fine if there had been an actual building there, but there wasn’t. It was just woods. And they didn’t even have electricity in the area at that time. She said she sat on the front porch for a while watching it. She finally did her business and went back to bed. I still don’t know what to think about all those stories Mom told me, especially since I have never experienced anything similar. Well, mostly. I have experienced a couple of bizarre incidents.

Incident #1: Many years ago I went with a female coworker to a new restaurant in town for lunch. It was fixed up with a lot of decorations, TVs on the walls, and a side room with arcade games. While waiting for our food, I began watching an old B&W movie that had just started. The title of the movie was a woman’s name that I cannot remember, so let’s just say it was Amelia. Well, at the point that Amelia makes her first appearance in the movie, she is asked who she is. She responds, “Amelia.” Well, just at the time she said her name, an employee of the restaurant came over the intercom to call out the name of the customer whose order was ready to pick up. You guessed it, the name was Amelia. Kind of bizarre, don’t you think? Anyway, after my friend and I finished eating, we were just sitting there relaxing when I heard a deep male voice behind me say, “Better get back to work.” I quickly turned and looked all around, but there was no one anywhere near me. Just when I thought I might be hearing things, my coworker said, “Yeah, you’re right.” I asked her who she was talking to. She said, “Didn’t you just say we needed to get back to work?” I responded that I had not, but I had heard someone else saying it. To this day I still don’t know whose voice that was or where it came from. Upon telling my mother, she of course believed it was a supernatural warning that we really needed to get back to work or something bad was going to happen.

Incident #2: On March 30, 1981, as I was driving home from work, I heard a report on the radio that President Ronald Reagan, Press Secretary James Brady, and others had been attacked and shot by a crazed gunman. The report went on to say that James Brady, as a result of a gunshot wound to his head, was dead. I began praying that Brady would somehow not be dead. I knew this was a rather brazen prayer given that I was in fact praying for nothing less than a resurrection. Later I heard reports that Brady was in fact not dead. The earlier reports had been incorrect. Even so, the report of Brady still being alive gave me pause.

Other family members have reported seemingly supernatural events, also. Back in the late 1970’s, soon after my grandmother died, several of my relatives were at my grandfather’s house. An uncle was sitting in a chair directly opposite a wall where a whatnot hung. On a shelf of the whatnot was a small porcelain cup that had belonged to my grandmother. Suddenly my uncle saw the cup slide off the shelf and begin floating in the air toward him. Flabbergasted, all he could do was stare. When the cup got within a few feet of him, it quit moving towards him and the handle turned upward as if someone was holding it. Slowly it descended straight to the floor whereupon the cup appeared to have been released and then rolled over until the handle contacted the floor. He later described it to me as something straight from the TV show “Bewitched.” A second uncle, who was standing nearby but facing the opposite direction, caught a glimpse of the cup as it hit the floor. Thinking a young niece was responsible, he called out for her to stop throwing things. She was not even in the room at the time. A cousin was in the dining room at the time and reported that he also caught a glimpse, through a doorway, of the cup as it was moving though the air. When the second uncle asked the first uncle how the cup got on the floor, he was speechless. After asking a few more times, he was finally able to answer that it had just floated over there. Several of the family members got together and tried to determine what had caused the cup to come off the shelf, cross the room, and settle on the floor. During the course of their investigation, they set the cup back on the shelf and pushed it off my hand. The cup sailed quickly through the air and hit the floor with such force as to break it into many pieces. A third uncle, when later told about this incident, said that he would give a hundred dollars to have seen that cup floating through the air. The uncle that saw the whole event responded that he would give a hundred dollars to not have seen it. Interestingly, the uncle who saw the cup floating through the air had been a skeptic of all the supernatural stories he had heard from other people. However, after this event, he told me he would never doubt other people’s stories ever again.

In addition to the paranormal stories, I will mention my religious upbringing. My dad never went to church as I was growing up. My mom attended some, but was dependent on having her cousin pick her up since she didn’t drive. I attended the Baptist church they went to when I was younger. Despite the lack of regular church attendance of parents, I was reared believing the Bible was the Word of God and worthy of being read and adhered to. Even so, as an older teenager, the rational part of my brain related to religion began to develop, so I rejected the Bible. I basically told people that I believed in God, just not the God of the Bible. There just didn’t seem to be enough evidence to support the veracity of the Bible’s supernatural stories. Yet, when I was 25 years old, I accepted Christ as my savior and was baptized into the church. By the age of 28, however, I was once again questioning the truthfulness of the Bible and eventually deconverted from Christianity. It wasn’t that I wanted to deconvert. I just couldn’t bring myself to believe something that I deep down knew did not have sufficient evidence to back it up. I eventually documented all my thoughts on this matter in a book entitled God Is: Exploring the Nature of the Biblical God.

To this day I am still skeptical of all supernatural or paranormal stories just as was my uncle before he saw the cup floating through the air. But I readily admit that should I ever see something totally unexplainable, I may change my mind. But it seems that usually when supernatural claims are put to the test scientifically, natural explanations are always forthcoming. One person who has been diligent about exposing people with supposed psychic, paranormal, or supernatural abilities is magician James Randi (aka The Amazing Randi). For many years now he has had a challenge in which if a person can demonstrate his supernatural powers under controlled conditions he will receive a substantial cash prize. Everyone who has taken this challenge has failed. Randi documents many exposés in Flim-Flam!: Psychics, ESP, Unicorns, and Other Delusions as well as other books.

Please keep in mind that if you have had what you consider to be a supernatural experience, I am not telling you it was not real. What I am saying is that our brain can sometimes trick us into believing something that wasn’t real. Also, sometimes what we consider to be supernatural is really a rare natural phenomenon. But then again it could be a for real supernatural experience. Still, most people can only judge the truthfulness of a claim based on their own personal experience. If someone tells me they just bought a new computer, I have no immediate basis for disbelieving him as this is an easily observed activity. However, if a friend tells me he just bought a dog that can speak German, French, and English, I do have an immediate basis for disbelieving him since no such thing has ever been reported in the history of man. As Carl Sagan said in his book Cosmos, “Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence.”

If you have any stories of your personal encounters with the supernatural, I would love to hear them. Just leave them in the comment section.

First Contact – Part 5 – Faith Healers

As I was growing up, there were a number of faith healers on television. They were always fascinating with their dramatics and head popping. I often wondered why there were so many sick people in the world given the number of people of faith capable of healing. I thought perhaps it had something to do with the lack of faith of the sick people. But upon examining the Bible, I realized that the healings mentioned there had more to do with the faith of the healer than the faith of the healee.

One faith healer in particular I used to watch on TV was Ernest Angley. Although I was always skeptical of the supposed healings that occurred at his hand, I found him to be flamboyant, yet intriguing and entertaining to watch. In October 1978, I heard that Angley was coming to a nearby civic center, and I knew I had to go. The program lasted about four hours and was filled with preaching, music, healing, and money collection. I was hoping to see what I would have considered a true miracle. This would consist of some type of healing that obviously violated the laws of nature such as a missing limb growing back instantly. I was not so fortunate. Most of the healings consisted of relieving nicotine addictions, reinstituting lost senses of smell, and reversing hearing loss. Absolutely nothing occurred during the four hours that came close to convincing me that Angley was God’s man of the hour. Further, when he began blessing boxes of trinkets before his assistants took to the audience to sell them, he lost any semblance of confidence I may have had in him. Still, I thought it would be interesting to talk to a person who was “healed” that day. About a month later I got my wish.

While at a funeral home during a visitation, my father introduced me to a man that he knew from years past and told me that he had been at the Angley service. Further, he had been on the stage and had had his hearing healed. No, he had not been deaf, just a bit hard of hearing. Since the healing, his hearing was much improved. Ever the skeptic, I began talking to him softly, thinking that if his hearing had not been healed he would have difficulty understanding me over the din of voices surrounding us. He heard everything I said. I was impressed, but not convinced. After all, I had never talked to the man before his healing, so there was no way for me to know the extent of his hearing loss. Perhaps he had gotten good at reading lips and knew what I was saying even though he could not hear me well.

In college, my friend Doug and I used to study and hang out together. At some point he got involved in a charismatic movement and converted to it from Catholicism. After college he got a job as an engineer just as I did, but later was led to work as a campus minister. The last time I saw Doug was at my wedding. While catching up on our lives he told me a story that I will never forget. One day at the campus ministry house a man showed up with some missing fingers due to an unfortunate run-in with a lawn mower. Doug and another person laid hands on the man and prayed for him. Then, right before their eyes, the man’s fingers grew back to full length.

I was astonished. What was I to make of this story? Was my good friend lying? Was he deluded? Had he been tricked? Or could it be that the healing actually happened just as he reported? Having not been present at the healing, there was no way for me to know for sure.

So, when it comes to faith healing, I remain a skeptic since I have never actually seen one. But, regardless of my skepticism, there do seem to be some credible stories that indicate healings do take place that cannot be explained naturally. But we must keep in mind that there is much we don’t know about nature, especially as it relates to the human body. Just as lightning at one time was thought to be from a supernatural source but now is known to be natural, perhaps one day those unexplainable healings will be explained.

I discuss this topic in more detail in my book God Is: Exploring the Nature of the Biblical God.

First Contact – Part 4 – Jews

I began to get serious about playing music in middle school when I got an electric guitar and a small amp. Later I got a classical guitar and learned to fingerpick. Then I got a banjo and learned to fingerpick-pick. At different points along the way I would get together with friends to play music. However, it wasn’t until I was in college that I played in a serious band that actually got gigs.

There were four guys in our band: Billy, Mike, Roger, and me. Sometimes Billy would ask me to play a simple duo gig where he sang and played guitar and I would accompany him on my banjo. The most memorable duo performance was at the local Jewish Community Center. There was a fairly large community of Jewish people in Louisville, KY. In addition to the community center there was a Jewish Hospital, several synagogues, and a temple.

We were to play at a party after a basketball game on just a regular ole day. December 24. Yes, it was Christmas Eve, but of course that was just a regular ole day for Jewish people. My parents and I always exchanged gifts on Christmas Eve, but playing that evening was okay by me. I knew I’d be home in plenty of time for gifts. When we arrived, the game was still in progress. This gave us time to set up and be ready when the party started. And soon enough it did. A bunch of young people started streaming into the meeting area where food was ready for them to consume as they listened to the musical machinations of Billy and Randy. We played some bluegrass, John Denver, and other music appropriate for a banjo. Everyone seemed to have a good time and was very friendly.

After about an hour the party ended, we were thanked, and we packed up and left. I saw no money trade hands, so I assumed we had played gratis, which was fine. However, on the way home, Billy informed me that he had been given $50 for our efforts and gave me $25. Wow! That was quite a bit of money in the day.

So, that was my first encounter with Jews at an official Jewish institution. It wasn’t until more recent times that I actually attended a Jewish service at a synagogue. While in high school, my son, Andrew, had a semester of Hebrew. He also became interested in the religious practices of different groups. He began attending the local Jewish synagogue occasionally and I went with him a few times. He was actually a participant at one of the services. I found the services interesting and the congregants very welcoming and friendly.

One of the members of the synagogue is a blind man named Stanley. As it turns out, he is very good friends with a now-retired Christian minister named Carl. The church Carl was a minister at was just a few blocks away from the synagogue. Carl is also an adjunct professor of religion at our local university. Andrew had many classes with him, and they became friends. Occasionally, Andrew would meet Carl and Stanley for lunch.

Isn’t it nice when people of varied beliefs can come together in fellowship and not let their differences hinder a friendship? Hopefully, heaven won’t be as exclusive as some people believe it will be.

First Contact – Part 3 – Jesus Movement

The Jesus Movement got its start in the late 1960s, continued through the 1970s, and then died out in the early 1980s. Parts of this movement were also associated with the Hippie Movement. The movement consisted mostly of young Christians who were fed up with the status quo and wanted to see real change in the world.

In 1975, I was in college and loved rock music. One group I really liked was Grand Funk Railroad, and they were coming to Louisville for a concert. Not being able to find anyone else to go, I had purchased one ticket.

It was January 26, and I had decided to go to Walgreens for an early dinner before the concert. Walgreens, as well as many other pharmacies, used to have what was called soda fountains. Later, they added food. As an interesting side bar, it was in 1922 that Walgreens invented the malted milk shake, which became an instant hit. But to get back to my story, the Walgreens near my house in the mid-1970s had essentially a small restaurant with very good griddle hamburgers. That’s what I was after for my meal.

As I was sitting there in a booth waiting for my burger to be cooked, a young guy about my age came over and asked if he might sit with me and ask a few questions. I didn’t have anything else to do, so I said yes. I don’t remember all that was said, but I do recall the following.

The guy asked, “Have you ever had those moments when you are at total peace with the world and everything seems to be in its right place?”

After thinking about it for a few seconds, I responded, “Yes, I have.” I was thinking of the times I would turn out the room lights, put on some ethereal music, and just lay still letting the music envelope me. I was thinking of the times when I would be laying on our couch at home with the cool flow of air from our window air conditioner swirling about me as I read a classic science fiction novel that took me to unknown worlds. I was thinking of the time I came across a Gregorian chant on the car radio as I was driving at sunset. All these things made me feel at peace with the world.

“That’s good,” he said. But, of course, that wasn’t the type of peace he had in mind. He was thinking of the peace that comes from a knowledge of God and his son Jesus Christ. He went on to share with me the Gospel as he understood it.

I told him I believed in God, but not Jesus or the Bible.

He said, “A group of us are meeting tonight at a friend’s house. I would love it if you would attend with me.”

I said, “I can’t do that. I’m going to a concert tonight.”

“Who are you going to see?”

“Grand Funk Railroad.”

“How much did you pay for your ticket?”

“Six dollars.” (Yes, this was the typical cost of a big name concert in those days.)

“If you will come to the meeting, I will buy that ticket from you.”

“I don’t want to do that. I really want to go to the concert.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Of course, I was also thinking that I wasn’t about to go off to some stranger’s house with some guy I had just met. There was no telling if this guy was for real or not. And later when I got home and told my mom about this encounter, she had the same thoughts, urging me not to go.

Well, we parted company, my delicious burger arrived, and later I went to Freedom Hall for the concert. It was fantastic. However, the guy sitting next to me was quite different from the one at Walgreens. When they started playing Also Sprach Zarathustra before Funk’s entrance, he stood up and started yelling, “Oh my God! 2001 A Space Odyssey! Oh my God! I can’t believe it! They’re playing 2001! Oh my God!” Hey, granted, I thought it was cool also, but this guy was over the top. He was obviously stoned, but he must have been godly in his own way since he apparently had a God.

Sometime after that first contact, I had a second contact with the Jesus Movement. But in a way it was a first contact since this time it was the hippie faction of the movement. A friend and I had been at an outdoor rock concert and were making our way back to the car. A group of Jesus Freaks (that’s what they were called) was sitting around in a big circle on the ground. As we passed by one person in the group asked if we wanted to join them. We thought “what the heck” and sat down.

Well, we sat there for about 5-10 minutes just kind of looking around waiting for someone to talk. Not one word was spoken to us the entire time by anyone. Finally, one of us said, “We have to go now,” and we left.

Hmmmmm…

I have thought about these first contacts with the Jesus Movement a number of times over the years. How would my life be different had I sold the proselytizer my ticket and went to the meeting instead? Could I have ended up being a minister? Might I have been disappointed and then pissed that I missed the concert? Maybe I would have been robbed and killed. You never know about these things.

It’s also interesting to think about how different the approaches of the Walgreens guy and the hippie circle were. The Walgreens guy was very proactive. He came to my table. He asked to sit and question me. He asked me to attend a meeting. He was willing to put his money where his mouth was by offering to buy my ticket. Six dollars may not sound like much today, but it’s the equivalent of about $26 today. That represents several hours of work at minimum wage.

By contrast the hippie circle simply asked me to join them as I passed by. Then apparently I was to somehow sense their faith and absorb it by osmosis without any further action on their part. I’m not a Bible scholar, but I know enough to know that the Walgreens guy’s approach was the more Biblical one.

In closing, you may find it interesting that at a later date Mark Farner, guitarist and lead singer for Grand Funk Railroad, apparently became a Christian and began playing contemporary Christian music. My wife and I bought a couple of his CDs. They were quite good.

Britain From A to Z: Y

Yahweh

Christianity has dominated Britain for many centuries now. Even though most citizens still identify with the Christian religion, church attendance has fallen dramatically over the last 50-60 years. 2011 statistics showed that about 60% of Brits claim to be Christian. Interestingly, 33% claimed no religion or did not state a religion. The rest were Islamic (4%), Hindu (1%), or something else (2%). Apparently, the other worshippers of Yahweh besides Christians, the Jews, make up a part of the “something else”.

Because of the age of Britain, there are many incredible churches, cathedrals, and abbeys throughout. While on our tour, we saw many of these and were able to go inside several of them. One Sunday evening, my wife and I actually attended an Evensong service at Westminster Abbey. Unfortunately, photography was not allowed during the service.

Here’s a few of the churches we saw during our tour throughout Scotland, England, and Wales.

Glasgow Cathedral, Glasgow, Scotland

St Columba’s Free Church, Edinburgh, Scotland

Melrose Abbey, Melrose, Scotland

Grasmere Parrish Church, Grasmere, England

St Martin’s Church, Bowness-on-Windermere, England

Hawes Methodist Church, Hawes, England

York Minster, York, England

York Minster, York, England

Liverpool Cathedral, Liverpool, England

Chester Cathedral, Chester, England

Westminster Abbey, London, England

Westminster Cathedral, London, England

Bath Abbey, Bath, England

United Reformed Church Tabernacle Chapel, Rhayader, Wales

Holy Trinity Church, Porthmadog, Wales

The Fun Centre, Former Christchurch, Caernarfon, Wales

Presbyterian Church of Wales, Caernarfon, Wales

St Mary’s Church, Betws-y-Coed, Wales

Addoldy Cydenwadol Seion, Llangollen, Wales

St Mary’s Church, Kidderminster, England

Broadway Methodist Church, Broadway, England

St Martin’s Church, Burial Place for Winston Churchill and Family, Bladon, England

St Mary Magdalen’s Church, Oxford, England

St George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle, Windsor, England