My testimony and an introductory ramble

I grew up in an ultra-conservative tradition that left me believing that true Christians are identifiable by external characteristics such as old-fashioned, conservative style of dress, absence of facial hair, jewelry, etc., and by the theology with which they are associated. Consequently, I was ignorant of the intrinsically spiritual, personal nature of the Christian life and I subconsciously associated piety with adherence to a code. I was a Pharisee in training. Fortunately, God had plans for me. Allow me to elaborate.

When I was about 10 years old, a young couple moved in two doors down from us and became friends of the family. I now believe that they were the first in a long series of lessons God gave me on the folly of judgmentalism. Their spirit amazed me! They dressed like 'the world' and looked like 'the world' but their life demonstrated Christianity to me more than the lives of many others who were professing a much higher level of spirituality. They lived a true 'pursuit' of holiness every day and admitted readily to daily failures in their walk with God. I was then unable to accept their testimony. I believed that they must be deceived and that if they would truly walk in the light and follow the Holy Spirit, they would find the truth, as I knew it.

By my early teens, I had begun to question the validity of some of our standards of dress. I was bothered by the unspoken assumption that we were the eschatological remnant and that all other 'Christians' were deceivers or deceived. It seemed rather petty to me that such issues as length of sleeves and facial hair had bearing on one's eternal destiny. As a result, I declined membership in the church when I came of age and began to look at things with a more critical eye.

I was fairly certain that the some of the teachings of the church were extra-biblically derived, and eventually I assumed that if the church was wrong on some points, it probably was comprised of simpletons who were not to be trusted nor considered worthy of my time. I spent the next few years in limbo and I grew tired of thinking about it all. I frequently skipped church and often entertained thoughts of an atheistic bent. When I did go to church, I had trouble keeping my mind on the service. Instead, everything that was said was brought immediately into question in my mind. In 1985, in a quest for income, I took a job as pianist at a liberal United Methodist Church in Detroit. Of course, I believed this to be no more than a place of employment, and didn't really expect to find any true Christians there. I did encounter rank liberalism, but to my surprise, I also found humble, sincere friends who were patiently running the race, seeking God's plan for their lives. I actively participated in a Bible study group and made friends who are dear to me to this day.

In 1986, I joined the Army and shortly before leaving for Basic Training, I visited the church in which I was raised with my mother. After the service, a dear lady approached me with grave concern and counseled me to come back home to the true church. She assured me that those Methodists did not love me but that they were deceivers and those who really loved me were in the church of my childhood. I loved this lady and I know she was sincere, but the gall of her statement appalled me. In all the time since I departed their fellowship, not once did anyone from that church inquire about my health or spiritual status, invite me to church, or even say they were praying for me. In contrast, the Methodists showed constant concern, compassion and love and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Those "worldly" Methodists had shown me the love of Christ when my home church had utterly failed in that regard.

I was stationed in upstate New York for my first three years in the Army. I met and became friends with a Bible Brethren preacher in that area. Greg and I enjoyed long theological and doctrinal discussions amid feverish bouts of Ping-Pong. I spent a lot of time with him and his family and was in awe of his humble spirit and devoted walk with the Lord. It frustrated me to no end that he was a proponent of Calvinist doctrine. In my understanding, he was either deceived or a deceiver, but his relationship with God and the love of Christ that emanated from him made it clear to me that my understanding was faulty. The day I left New York, he told me, with a tear running down his cheek, that just before I first walked into his little country church, he had asked God to send him a friend who needed help. I had already come to terms with the fact that he was saved, despite his doctrine, but the fact that God clearly and specifically sent me to him for help was deeply instructive.

In 1990 I moved to California to study the Polish language at the Defense Language Institute. The year and a half I spent there was the darkest time of my life. My marriage had crumbled to the point that I dreaded going home. I was loathe to consider divorce as an option but I eventually reached a point where I no longer cared whether or not God approved, and began to plan my escape from misery. God was there, however, and in my mess He allowed me to see His guiding hand. Shortly after I arrived there, I had to catch a ride home with a guy I didn't know. He told me on the way home that he was a Christian and invited me to go to church with him and his family. I had never heard of Vineyard Christian Fellowship, much less attended one. Had I known that they were charismatic, I probably would not have gone. I believed from my background that speaking in tongues was of the devil and that those who spoke in tongues were probably possessed and at least were entrenched in false doctrine. Glen became a treasured friend and brother in the months that followed. He prayed with me and listened to me when I needed someone. Above all, he showed me the love of Christ. When he was leaving California, he pulled me aside and told me that just before I arrived, he had prayed that God would send him someone who needed help. Not only had he helped me immeasurably as a friend and counselor, he had taken his place in the lesson God was giving me regarding my critical, judgmental spirit. God had deliberately used Methodists, Calvinists, and now a Charismatic to drag me along toward recovery from a malignant spirit.

In 1993, in Texas, I again needed to supplement my income and found a job as a pianist at another United Methodist Church. The pastor turned out to be surprisingly conservative and rapidly became a dear friend and confidant. He and the congregation blessed me and my family with continuous manifestations of the love of Christ.

In 1994, I moved to Germany and wondered what I would do for a church there. I discovered an English-speaking, Baptist congregation in town and began to attend there. There were many powerful dynamics and complicated anomalies in that congregation. There were military and government service personnel from various denominational backgrounds, local Germans, and a smattering of international students from the local university. This was an advanced course in Christian diversity and posed ample opportunity for divisiveness and strife in the church. It was not always smooth going, but I was impressed with the unity in worship and fellowship, the reliance on the scripture as the Authority, and the manifest working of the Holy Spirit in the face of such an amalgamation. I remain in close friendship to this day with the pastor and trust him for godly advice anytime.

One of the deacons had a profound impact on me. Mark was the kind of person that anyone would describe as godly. He simply could not talk much about anything without bringing it around to God and his grace and mercy to an unworthy sinner. He was the seemingly quintessential, successful, godly man and yet he shamed me with his humility. God took him suddenly a couple of years ago. He was only 41. I don't understand the timing or the purpose God had in mind, but I thank Him from the bottom of my heart for allowing my path to cross with that particular Baptist deacon.

That church sponsored missionaries in Poland and I soon took the opportunity to visit the mission work there. What an experience! Every time I went there I wanted to stay. It was so exciting to see God at work in lives shattered by drugs and alcohol. I remember one baptism service in particular. After the candidate's personal testimony, the pastor asked the candidate's wife to testify to the work of God in her husband's life. Through tears of joy, she confirmed that she had a completely new husband and that only God could have done what had happened in her home. Once again, these were Christians with whom I had theological issues but the love of Christ spilled from them and inundated my parched soul.

My years in Germany were rich with examples of godliness in places and people perhaps unexpected at times. Lucas was one such encounter. We served together in the same directorate, and his fresh honesty before God and man humbled me greatly. He spoke of his love for Christ with any and all, great or insignificant. To my shame, I actually felt embarrassed at times when he boldly spoke of his Lord before people who may not have appreciated his dedication. I also worked for a Russian Orthodox man there, with whom I had many fascinating conversations. I enjoyed his humble spirit before Almighty God.

The story goes on to the present day. I don't cite these examples for any other reason than to demonstrate what I believe God was showing me: that he has sheep in other pastures and it is not my place to judge who is His and who is not. I don't propose that ecumenism is appropriate or even desirable, but it seems to me that much of the disagreement in Christian churches is nothing more than childish insistence that we are right and anyone who disagrees with us is wrong. I can fellowship with those who see some things differently than I, because it's not my job to judge whether they are right or not. It is God who justifies. We all would do well to write the following words of Jesus on something, carry them with us, and look at them frequently: "What is that to you? You follow me!"

I would say the summary of my experience is this: we have a lot to lose by disassociating ourselves with Christians who see things differently and nothing to gain by seeking out only those who are in complete agreement with us. Of course, there are issues that are critical points of faith, but if the Bible is your atlas and Jesus is your Lord, we are family. Let us rejoice in the love of Christ. If we keep our focus on Him rather than our differences we'll get along just fine and there will be life and growth in the Body of Christ.

That Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have power to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. -Ephesians 3:17-19

Peace and grace to you all.
Joe