- Feb 5, 2002
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I grew up in New England in a nominally Christian home. My father was a lapsed Catholic who married my mother, a lapsed Methodist.
In the Beginning, God…
When they began having children, my folks had us baptized in the Methodist Church. They thought we should have some basic Christian formation, so when we moved to a town without a Methodist congregation, they took us to the nearest mainline Protestant church, which was a United Church of Christ. They enrolled us in Sunday School and dropped us off on Sunday mornings, while attending church services only sporadically themselves.
When I was 14, our church youth group was invited to attend a week-long Christian summer camp run by Fundamentalist Christians. There they talked about a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and about praying the “sinner’s prayer,” things I’d never heard about. One evening, near the end of the week, they held a service where the Gospel message was explained in simple terms, and those of us who wanted to make a profession of faith were invited to come forward to the altar and pray to receive Jesus as our personal Lord and Savior and to be “born again.” I was one of the first ones on my feet and made my way to the front of the chapel where I asked God to forgive my sins and invited Jesus into my heart.
Some of my friends went forward, as well, and we all knew something important had happened. Back in our home church, the language of being “born again” and praying to receive Christ into our hearts were foreign concepts. My parents thought it was a phase and cautioned me not to go too overboard with my newfound religious zeal. Even the minister of our church was unenthusiastic, telling my friends and me that he didn’t go along with all that “born again stuff.” He encouraged us to continue attending church and our church’s youth fellowship, and that was the end of it.
Continued below.
In the Beginning, God…
When they began having children, my folks had us baptized in the Methodist Church. They thought we should have some basic Christian formation, so when we moved to a town without a Methodist congregation, they took us to the nearest mainline Protestant church, which was a United Church of Christ. They enrolled us in Sunday School and dropped us off on Sunday mornings, while attending church services only sporadically themselves.
When I was 14, our church youth group was invited to attend a week-long Christian summer camp run by Fundamentalist Christians. There they talked about a personal relationship with Jesus Christ and about praying the “sinner’s prayer,” things I’d never heard about. One evening, near the end of the week, they held a service where the Gospel message was explained in simple terms, and those of us who wanted to make a profession of faith were invited to come forward to the altar and pray to receive Jesus as our personal Lord and Savior and to be “born again.” I was one of the first ones on my feet and made my way to the front of the chapel where I asked God to forgive my sins and invited Jesus into my heart.
Some of my friends went forward, as well, and we all knew something important had happened. Back in our home church, the language of being “born again” and praying to receive Christ into our hearts were foreign concepts. My parents thought it was a phase and cautioned me not to go too overboard with my newfound religious zeal. Even the minister of our church was unenthusiastic, telling my friends and me that he didn’t go along with all that “born again stuff.” He encouraged us to continue attending church and our church’s youth fellowship, and that was the end of it.
Continued below.
From CBN Producer to Catholic Convert - The Coming Home Network
Share via: Facebook Twitter LinkedIn Email More I grew up in New England in a nominally Christian home. My father was a lapsed Catholic who married my mother, a lapsed
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