As I mentioned last week, although much of our family’s church experience was toxic, it did put me in a place where I heard the gospel and was encouraged to respond.

When I was 18, I made a list of several things that contributed to my understanding of salvation. These included comic books, a horror movie, an old classic, and a debate between two dead guys. Let me explain how these unlikely and disparate influences shaped and, in one instance, traumatized me in a way I didn’t understand at the time:

• Exciting Crusader comic books by the late Jack Chick. These were attention-getting, sometimes graphic stories about two buff guys—one white and one black, God’s two-man Mod Squad, who knew Bruce Lee moves and were off to save the world à la Chick’s view of reality. Yet, these stories attempted to present the gospel clearly with vivid depictions of the death, burial, and resurrection of Christ. Although steeped in Arminian[1] and Dispensational[2] theology, especially Chick’s early stories reinforced in me humanity’s need for the atoning sacrifice of Christ. Regrettably, his later work got wackier and wackier and is full of conspiracy theories, anti-Catholic rhetoric, and burn-your rock-music-King-James-Bible-only teachings.
• On May 10, 1975, I watched a movie at church called The Burning Hell—awarded one star and listed as horror/documentary on IMDb. It tried to scare people into heaven through literal, graphic depictions of what it’s like to be in hell: worms eating at your face, screaming in eternal fire that never burns you up, and falling forever in total darkness.

The movie flashed back and forth between scenes from first century Israel and a modern story of a guy who rejects the gospel, has a motorcycle accident, and winds up in hell. In the biblical scenes, all Jesus’ disciples had Southern accents and, even at nine, I thought that was strange!

For years, if someone asked me the exact date and details of my conversion experience—something far less important to Jesus and the early church than many today—May 10, 1975 and the story below is what I’d tell them:

“During the invitation given after the movie, I began sobbing not wanting God to send me to this terrible place.  I went out and talked to a counselor who encouraged me to ask God to save me.  I was eager to do so and prayed that God would forgive my sins and take me to heaven.  I don’t remember exactly what I said but I do remember vividly, as I was leaving that night, looking up at the stars and being grateful that God had heard my prayer and saved me.”

Today, I’ve come to see that what I viewed for years as conversion was actually religious trauma. In other words, what became etched in my memory was less because “I saw the light!,” and more because that’s what happens when you show horror movies to nine-year-olds. Yes, Proverbs does say that “the fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom” (1:7). And, I remain persuaded that, regardless of ones’ view of hell,[3] it’s foolish to not take God seriously (Psa. 14:1; Rom. 1:22). But the ends don’t justify the means: you don’t get people to love and reverence God by terrifying and emotionally manipulating them, and you especially don’t do this to nine-year-olds.

• Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan. Although written in 1678, the story is a very accessible allegory of the Christian life. It begins with Pilgrim, the main character, in the City of Destruction with a huge burden on his back (sin) that he can’t remove. Early in the book, a character named Evangelist directs him to a cross on a hill (Christ). Pilgrim finds this place, looks up in faith, and the weighty pack extraordinarily falls to the ground (forgiveness, peace with God). Pilgrim is “saved” and begins an exciting and dangerous journey to the Celestial City (heaven). Again, the focus on the cross of Christ, our need for faith and repentance, and relief from shame and guilt were some of the things that stuck with me.
• The Arminian/ Calvinism[4] controversies. I was introduced to and began to wade through these waters as a freshman in college, wrestling with doctrines like predestination, election, and eternal security and questions like:
  • “Why do I keep sinning if I love God and am supposed to be a Christian?
  • “Why did my grandfather—the smartest man I knew—who taught me to play chess not choose God like I did?
  • Why do I have a desire for God and many others could care less?

This journey was very painful (a story for another day) but helped me realize I could never please God on my own.  I love him because he first loved me (1 John 4:19). This is when I came to believe in salvation by grace with a capital G. As the hymn says, “Nothing in my hand I bring; simply to thy cross I cling.” The music of Keith Green, the writings of John Calvin and A.W. Pink, and a sermon by the pastor who married Pam and me, Randy Cook (a good man who restored my faith in pastors), on Gal. 3:3 were also influential in this part of my journey.

From a theological perspective, I’ve come to see that saving faith is more than intellectual assent (“the demons believe and tremble”- James 2:19b).  As 2 Cor. 5:17 says, “Therefore if any man is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.”  For this reason, I’ve found it important to look at my conversion experience through another window.  When did a change take place in my heart and actions?  When did I begin to “hunger and thirst after righteousness” (Matt. 5:6)?  These are difficult questions to answer for many who come to Christ early in life—especially if you’ve come from a church that seriously warped and perverted your view of the mercy and love of God.

When talking about my testimony, in addition to the “change in belief” experiences above, I place considerable weight on a three-month series of events that occurred during my fifteenth year. Interestingly, this is the same period my agnostic grandfather had such an influence on me. If God hadn’t mercifully and supernaturally intervened, my life would certainly have taken a different path.

I’ll tell you about that next week!

[1] The expression of Arminianism I’m referencing here emphasizes human initiative, effort, and performance over grace in obtaining salvation from God.

[2] Dispensational theology tends to fixate on an over-literal interpretation of the book of Revelation that does not adequately consider it’s OT background, literary genre, or first century culture.

[3] Years later, through further study, I came to understand and embrace the historic and metaphorical view of hell that’s described and defended in Four Views on Hell edited by William Crockett and published by Zondervan.

[4] Arminianism and Calvinism are doctrinal perspectives associated with John Calvin and Jacob Arminius that wrestle with the autonomy and responsibility of man vs. the sovereignty of God.