- Feb 14, 2022
- 56
- 23
- 67
- Country
- United States
- Faith
- Christian
- Marital Status
- Divorced
I suppose a little testimony is appropriate to introduce myself. My name is Michael, but I prefer to be called Mike, though my friends growing up usually just called me Pardo or "pard." I never much cared for my given name as my mother said that she named me after the Archangel and that's a difficult name to live up to. At least she didn't name me Jesus or Joshua.
I was raised as a Catholic during the late 50s and 60s, a time when that church was abandoning the Latin mass for English (in the USA) and worship was being supplemented with guitars and folk singing along with standard choir practices. As a child I didn't appreciate the somewhat brutal and abusive manner that I and other parish children were subjected to when in the care of nuns, while in catechism classes or "children's masses," at our local St. Martin of Toures (?) Church. Consequently immediately after my confirmation in that church, at the age of 13, I informed my mother that I would no longer attend masses. (With the approval of my father, who attended with my mother, but couldn't be called devout by any stretch of the imagination.)
From that time forward until the age of 39, I lived a secular life, graduating school, obtaining a bachelor's degree, pursuing a laboratory career briefly before enlisting in the USAF, and then moving on to a career as a radio electronics technician and "service representative."
I held a few different positions after my discharge from the USAF (following my first tour of duty,) and in 1992 settled into a 25 year career with the Port Authority of NY & NJ's radio shop. It was during my employment at the Port Authority that I met two coworkers that are professing born again Christians and that patiently ministered the Lord's grace to me.
As a child, I was very impressed with the words of Jesus Christ to the extent that I heard them in "gospel readings" and found myself wanting to be like the Lord. I began reading scripture at about the same time that I was placed in catechism classes and attempted my first read through of a King James Bible that my parents kept on a book shelf. It was difficult reading and I didn't understand many of the words, but my parents also owned an old Websters dictionary and an old encyclopedia that I made frequent use of.
I enjoyed reading Genesis and Exodus as they filled out the stories that I'd been introduced to through Cecil B. Demille's now classic biblical films. Much of the rest of the Old Testament seemed boring and repetitive to my childish mind, but I did appreciate passages in the Psalms and the book of Isaiah that were clearly about Jesus and His sufferings. My progress was slow because of my limited vocabulary and it took a year or two to finally read through the gospels, but when I started applying the word " hypocrite " to the parish nuns and priests, my mother took away the King James Version of scripture that I'd been using.
My Father, seeking to comfort me, gave me his pocket edition of the New Testament and Psalms, that he'd received while in military service in WWII.
It served its purpose, but being incomplete, I somehow managed to appropriate a Gideon's Bible and began reading that edition. It wasn't long before I recognized that the Gideon's Bible was different in it's translation from the King James Version that I'd previously been reading. I didn't understand why "Jehovah " replaced "LORD" and why certain passages described creatures with different names. I found these inconsistencies troubling and stopped reading scripture for a number of years until a cousin introduced me to my first modern translation, a "Jerusalem Bible " used for a text in a college class that examined scripture as literature.
I continued reading in this version through my days in University, the military, and my post discharge career, but my carnal mind was unable to reconcile the God of the Old Testament to Jesus Christ. It was actually my reading of scripture that gave me doubt about what I'd been taught in catechism classes and from sermons and "homilies." However, as a text book, the Jerusalem Bible that I'd purchased had extensive footnotes about the scholarly beliefs about its authorship, changes in verse ordering, deletions and "corrections " to adhere to accepted doctrine, as well as historical notes and ancient maps intended to lay context for the writings. As a young child, I'd assumed that the Bible was written at one time and by one author, which only lent itself to further confusion in my attempts to understand the content. Now, I was able to perceive that men had no problem altering scripture to conform to their belief, which focused my doubt more on men than in God.
While working for my last employer, one faithful brother in the Lord who sat and worked within earshot of me, willingly discussed scripture with me, explaining the spiritual meaning of texts that seemed contradictory to my carnal thinking. He is a very patient soul.
Though I read scripture repeatedly over the course of many years and greatly admired Jesus, my personal experience didn't seem to align at all with biblical principles. I sought to be righteous in my behavior, but in truth was only able to justify sin as a "necessity " in a world that really seemed devoid of any righteousness at all. I studied science, philosophy, world religions, mysticism and the occult, all with the intent of seeking out "the truth" of our existence, but found nothing to satisfy my longing for truth except this one book we call the Bible.
In the course of my vocation, I sustained some serious bodily injury to my lower spine which didn't respond well to conventional treatment. While perusing the curriculum for evening classes at a local college, I came across an introductory class in Tai Chi Chuan, an "internal " Chinese martial art that I'd read about while still in High School. The "Tai Chi Classics" was an English translation of a collection of short writings on the art which attributed regenerative powers to the practice of Tai Chi in addition to it's use in "boxing" or self defense.
I took this course and within only a few weeks, my chiropractor noticed a marked improvement in my body's response to his treatments. Like most things in my life that had practical applications, I threw myself into the study of this somewhat arcane practice, for 4 years under a few different teachers, and then continuing on my own because of my apparent succeses.
Some doctors had given me a poor prognosis on my back problems (which had progressed into sciatica, nerve degeneration, and muscular atrophy), but my prolonged efforts gave me a near complete recovery of my range of motion. There were also unexpected manifestation of "spiritual" phenomena in learning to control what the Chinese tradition considers internal energies and "spirit."
My progress in the "metaphysical " aspects of Chinese martial arts might have made me a more "spiritual " person in the eyes of the "masters" that I encountered in those days, but the reality was that I only became more confident in myself, and more inclined to express my own will in sinful ways.
Rather than reaching any kind of "enlightenment ", I only perceived my life as an increasing spiral downward into condemnation. The conviction of the Holy Spirit, under the ministry of my coworkers, was only convincing me of my utter condemnation, and the circumstances of my life to utter desperation. Then entered the gospel, by the words of a street preacher, on a side walk in Red Bank, New Jersey. I prayed with the man for saving grace, but to no effect (it was just a seed of hope.)
After that encounter, I questioned my coworker, Jerome, specifically about the gospel. The message I'd heard on that sidewalk, I'd read as a child as well, in a tract placed with some Halloween candy. The message was too simple and was entirely contradictory to what I'd been taught in catechism, and though I'd prayed the prayer "of faith", I'd prayed with doubt and not in faith at all, because of the conflict in my understanding. Jerome patiently explained the theology behind the gospel and after work, in the employee parking lot, I was lead by Jerome once more in a prayer to receive Christ as Lord of my life, this time in hope and believing that God could indeed save me. While holding Jerome's hands in prayer and asking the Lord for His Spirit, I felt the most powerful surge of "chi" that I'd ever experienced since I began my martial arts training and had the sensation of it all rushing to the top of my head and exiting my body in an instant. However, I wasn't left feeling empty, but at peace, at rest in the arms of my Lord.
From that time forward for three years I read repeatedly through an inexpensive copy of the King James Version of the Bible until it literally fell apart, the pages falling from the binding. In all that time the Lord kept showing me Himself in the Old Testament. . I picked up an inexpensive version of the New King James to continue my reading and after that period of time felt convicted that I wasn't part of an assembly and began visiting local churches. I settled into a congregation just a few blocks from my home, a community Baptist church, that held to doctrines most similar to what the Lord was teaching me from scripture or confirming as true from radio ministries.
The pastor shared a copy of the Westminster confession for my perusal and since I was in agreement with most of it, both I and my wife were baptized before the congregation, making the good confession with a portion if shared testimony.
I have found myself at odds with such aspects of reformed theology that conflict with the testimony of scripture and would have to be considered "charismatic " in my faith. However, I believe in One God and Savior, even our Lord Jesus the Christ, who was made known first by the Holy Spirit and through His prophets, and is One with the eternal Father of all spirits, dwelling in Him as the Father dwelt in the tabernacle of His flesh, glorifying and being glorified in Him, Blessed forever. Amen.
I was raised as a Catholic during the late 50s and 60s, a time when that church was abandoning the Latin mass for English (in the USA) and worship was being supplemented with guitars and folk singing along with standard choir practices. As a child I didn't appreciate the somewhat brutal and abusive manner that I and other parish children were subjected to when in the care of nuns, while in catechism classes or "children's masses," at our local St. Martin of Toures (?) Church. Consequently immediately after my confirmation in that church, at the age of 13, I informed my mother that I would no longer attend masses. (With the approval of my father, who attended with my mother, but couldn't be called devout by any stretch of the imagination.)
From that time forward until the age of 39, I lived a secular life, graduating school, obtaining a bachelor's degree, pursuing a laboratory career briefly before enlisting in the USAF, and then moving on to a career as a radio electronics technician and "service representative."
I held a few different positions after my discharge from the USAF (following my first tour of duty,) and in 1992 settled into a 25 year career with the Port Authority of NY & NJ's radio shop. It was during my employment at the Port Authority that I met two coworkers that are professing born again Christians and that patiently ministered the Lord's grace to me.
As a child, I was very impressed with the words of Jesus Christ to the extent that I heard them in "gospel readings" and found myself wanting to be like the Lord. I began reading scripture at about the same time that I was placed in catechism classes and attempted my first read through of a King James Bible that my parents kept on a book shelf. It was difficult reading and I didn't understand many of the words, but my parents also owned an old Websters dictionary and an old encyclopedia that I made frequent use of.
I enjoyed reading Genesis and Exodus as they filled out the stories that I'd been introduced to through Cecil B. Demille's now classic biblical films. Much of the rest of the Old Testament seemed boring and repetitive to my childish mind, but I did appreciate passages in the Psalms and the book of Isaiah that were clearly about Jesus and His sufferings. My progress was slow because of my limited vocabulary and it took a year or two to finally read through the gospels, but when I started applying the word " hypocrite " to the parish nuns and priests, my mother took away the King James Version of scripture that I'd been using.
My Father, seeking to comfort me, gave me his pocket edition of the New Testament and Psalms, that he'd received while in military service in WWII.
It served its purpose, but being incomplete, I somehow managed to appropriate a Gideon's Bible and began reading that edition. It wasn't long before I recognized that the Gideon's Bible was different in it's translation from the King James Version that I'd previously been reading. I didn't understand why "Jehovah " replaced "LORD" and why certain passages described creatures with different names. I found these inconsistencies troubling and stopped reading scripture for a number of years until a cousin introduced me to my first modern translation, a "Jerusalem Bible " used for a text in a college class that examined scripture as literature.
I continued reading in this version through my days in University, the military, and my post discharge career, but my carnal mind was unable to reconcile the God of the Old Testament to Jesus Christ. It was actually my reading of scripture that gave me doubt about what I'd been taught in catechism classes and from sermons and "homilies." However, as a text book, the Jerusalem Bible that I'd purchased had extensive footnotes about the scholarly beliefs about its authorship, changes in verse ordering, deletions and "corrections " to adhere to accepted doctrine, as well as historical notes and ancient maps intended to lay context for the writings. As a young child, I'd assumed that the Bible was written at one time and by one author, which only lent itself to further confusion in my attempts to understand the content. Now, I was able to perceive that men had no problem altering scripture to conform to their belief, which focused my doubt more on men than in God.
While working for my last employer, one faithful brother in the Lord who sat and worked within earshot of me, willingly discussed scripture with me, explaining the spiritual meaning of texts that seemed contradictory to my carnal thinking. He is a very patient soul.
Though I read scripture repeatedly over the course of many years and greatly admired Jesus, my personal experience didn't seem to align at all with biblical principles. I sought to be righteous in my behavior, but in truth was only able to justify sin as a "necessity " in a world that really seemed devoid of any righteousness at all. I studied science, philosophy, world religions, mysticism and the occult, all with the intent of seeking out "the truth" of our existence, but found nothing to satisfy my longing for truth except this one book we call the Bible.
In the course of my vocation, I sustained some serious bodily injury to my lower spine which didn't respond well to conventional treatment. While perusing the curriculum for evening classes at a local college, I came across an introductory class in Tai Chi Chuan, an "internal " Chinese martial art that I'd read about while still in High School. The "Tai Chi Classics" was an English translation of a collection of short writings on the art which attributed regenerative powers to the practice of Tai Chi in addition to it's use in "boxing" or self defense.
I took this course and within only a few weeks, my chiropractor noticed a marked improvement in my body's response to his treatments. Like most things in my life that had practical applications, I threw myself into the study of this somewhat arcane practice, for 4 years under a few different teachers, and then continuing on my own because of my apparent succeses.
Some doctors had given me a poor prognosis on my back problems (which had progressed into sciatica, nerve degeneration, and muscular atrophy), but my prolonged efforts gave me a near complete recovery of my range of motion. There were also unexpected manifestation of "spiritual" phenomena in learning to control what the Chinese tradition considers internal energies and "spirit."
My progress in the "metaphysical " aspects of Chinese martial arts might have made me a more "spiritual " person in the eyes of the "masters" that I encountered in those days, but the reality was that I only became more confident in myself, and more inclined to express my own will in sinful ways.
Rather than reaching any kind of "enlightenment ", I only perceived my life as an increasing spiral downward into condemnation. The conviction of the Holy Spirit, under the ministry of my coworkers, was only convincing me of my utter condemnation, and the circumstances of my life to utter desperation. Then entered the gospel, by the words of a street preacher, on a side walk in Red Bank, New Jersey. I prayed with the man for saving grace, but to no effect (it was just a seed of hope.)
After that encounter, I questioned my coworker, Jerome, specifically about the gospel. The message I'd heard on that sidewalk, I'd read as a child as well, in a tract placed with some Halloween candy. The message was too simple and was entirely contradictory to what I'd been taught in catechism, and though I'd prayed the prayer "of faith", I'd prayed with doubt and not in faith at all, because of the conflict in my understanding. Jerome patiently explained the theology behind the gospel and after work, in the employee parking lot, I was lead by Jerome once more in a prayer to receive Christ as Lord of my life, this time in hope and believing that God could indeed save me. While holding Jerome's hands in prayer and asking the Lord for His Spirit, I felt the most powerful surge of "chi" that I'd ever experienced since I began my martial arts training and had the sensation of it all rushing to the top of my head and exiting my body in an instant. However, I wasn't left feeling empty, but at peace, at rest in the arms of my Lord.
From that time forward for three years I read repeatedly through an inexpensive copy of the King James Version of the Bible until it literally fell apart, the pages falling from the binding. In all that time the Lord kept showing me Himself in the Old Testament. . I picked up an inexpensive version of the New King James to continue my reading and after that period of time felt convicted that I wasn't part of an assembly and began visiting local churches. I settled into a congregation just a few blocks from my home, a community Baptist church, that held to doctrines most similar to what the Lord was teaching me from scripture or confirming as true from radio ministries.
The pastor shared a copy of the Westminster confession for my perusal and since I was in agreement with most of it, both I and my wife were baptized before the congregation, making the good confession with a portion if shared testimony.
I have found myself at odds with such aspects of reformed theology that conflict with the testimony of scripture and would have to be considered "charismatic " in my faith. However, I believe in One God and Savior, even our Lord Jesus the Christ, who was made known first by the Holy Spirit and through His prophets, and is One with the eternal Father of all spirits, dwelling in Him as the Father dwelt in the tabernacle of His flesh, glorifying and being glorified in Him, Blessed forever. Amen.
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welcome to CF!
