COME INTO MY CLOSET! PART 1
Or, Am I a Presbyterian?
It all started when I was at Wheaton College. One of the most important things I learned while I was there was how to think for myself. That’s a dangerous thing. It was so much easier when I could just take the pastor’s word for truth and leave it at that. As you all know by now, I was raised in a conservative, fundamental church. Thinking for oneself was not highly prized there. At least that was the message I got.
In his sermons, my pastor had a habit of telling us to underline certain words or phrases and then he would give us an explanation of what they meant and tell us to make a note of it in the margins. By the time I got to Wheaton my margins were pretty filled up. But then I started taking Bible classes and the professors didn’t always tell us the truth. I knew this because what they said didn’t match the notes in my margins! The trouble was only beginning! I began studying Greek. Then my own discoveries didn’t match the notes in my margins! This was a problem! Someone was wrong! I checked. I double-checked! They still didn’t line up.
What was I going to do? Finally, I decided I was tired of listening to what other people told me to believe. I didn’t care what the pastor believed. I didn’t care what the professors believed. I wanted to know what I believed! So I chucked the whole thing out the window and started over. Now, what did I believe? I came to the conclusion that the only thing I knew for sure was that I believed the Bible really was God’s word and that it contained truth. I decided that from that point on, only the things I discovered in the Bible on my own would go into my paradigm. (Arrogant, I know, but I was naïve!)
There was a second thing. I had this girlfriend at Wheaton who lived in a nearby suburb. I really liked her dad. He was a solid Christian who really knew what he believed and lived it out. (He was a lot like my own dad in that way.) One Sunday my girlfriend’s parents invited us to church and then to dinner. When we pulled into the parking lot I was shocked to see that it was a Presbyterian church! How could such a good Christian guy go to a Presbyterian church? I had learned they were all liberal, social gospel type places. I was amazed! The sermon was powerful and the worship inspiring! I think they call it cognitive dissonance. But that was just the start!
Before dinner her dad and I were sitting in the living room discussing the theology of the morning sermon. He got up…went to the fridge and…wait for it…wait for it…ready…. asked me if I wanted a beer! (Being under the Pledge at Wheaton I respectfully declined.) What in the world was going on here? As they say on those cheap late night TV commercials, “But wait! There’s more!” After dinner he got out his pipe and lit it up right in the living room! I think I might have fainted. I don’t remember any more of that day!
Shocking lesson #1: Presbyterians can be good Christians!
Shocking lesson #2: You can be a Christian and not live by my church’s rules!
This launched me into a state of confusion which would only get worse as I entered my graduate studies.
To be continued….
It all started when I was at Wheaton College. One of the most important things I learned while I was there was how to think for myself. That’s a dangerous thing. It was so much easier when I could just take the pastor’s word for truth and leave it at that. As you all know by now, I was raised in a conservative, fundamental church. Thinking for oneself was not highly prized there. At least that was the message I got.
In his sermons, my pastor had a habit of telling us to underline certain words or phrases and then he would give us an explanation of what they meant and tell us to make a note of it in the margins. By the time I got to Wheaton my margins were pretty filled up. But then I started taking Bible classes and the professors didn’t always tell us the truth. I knew this because what they said didn’t match the notes in my margins! The trouble was only beginning! I began studying Greek. Then my own discoveries didn’t match the notes in my margins! This was a problem! Someone was wrong! I checked. I double-checked! They still didn’t line up.
What was I going to do? Finally, I decided I was tired of listening to what other people told me to believe. I didn’t care what the pastor believed. I didn’t care what the professors believed. I wanted to know what I believed! So I chucked the whole thing out the window and started over. Now, what did I believe? I came to the conclusion that the only thing I knew for sure was that I believed the Bible really was God’s word and that it contained truth. I decided that from that point on, only the things I discovered in the Bible on my own would go into my paradigm. (Arrogant, I know, but I was naïve!)
There was a second thing. I had this girlfriend at Wheaton who lived in a nearby suburb. I really liked her dad. He was a solid Christian who really knew what he believed and lived it out. (He was a lot like my own dad in that way.) One Sunday my girlfriend’s parents invited us to church and then to dinner. When we pulled into the parking lot I was shocked to see that it was a Presbyterian church! How could such a good Christian guy go to a Presbyterian church? I had learned they were all liberal, social gospel type places. I was amazed! The sermon was powerful and the worship inspiring! I think they call it cognitive dissonance. But that was just the start!
Before dinner her dad and I were sitting in the living room discussing the theology of the morning sermon. He got up…went to the fridge and…wait for it…wait for it…ready…. asked me if I wanted a beer! (Being under the Pledge at Wheaton I respectfully declined.) What in the world was going on here? As they say on those cheap late night TV commercials, “But wait! There’s more!” After dinner he got out his pipe and lit it up right in the living room! I think I might have fainted. I don’t remember any more of that day!
Shocking lesson #1: Presbyterians can be good Christians!
Shocking lesson #2: You can be a Christian and not live by my church’s rules!
This launched me into a state of confusion which would only get worse as I entered my graduate studies.
To be continued….
6 Comments:
A few years ago, I went with my lovely wife to a fundraiser at her Presbyterean Church. As we walked in I noticed everybody, including the Pastor and his wife, had a glass of wine in their hands. I almost fainted.
When I went to church with my family,the sermons were exactly as "fundementalist" as one could imagine.
Yet, they served wine and beer at their social events. I'm still at a loss for words.
Today, I think of the Presbytereans as the intelectual wing of the Protestant Church. But, what do I know?
Hey Dave,
Wait for it...wait...
Excellent! Very good. Can't WAIT for installment #2.
Fascinating! I'm glad you like us. In my time as a Presby elder, I served with liberals and conservatives alike. Our common thread was deep compassion, thoughtful hearts, and strong faith. We prayed for each other, and wouldn't dare change each other as we worked so well together. I learned to respect my conservative counterparts bc they weren't telling me how awful and misguided I was. I was on session during that Presbyterian (USA) GA 2004 Palestine/Israel fallout, and never worked with a more humble and brilliant group of people.
WoSC
Two words come to mind Betty Garrison. Born again Presbyterian, childhood neighbor Mom on our block. From Shreveport, LA, made a mean gumbo, (of course I'd never tasted it before, as The Devoted Housewife Mother of Shilohman, my older sister and myself, had never prepared anthing ethnic(except tacos and spaghetti.) 'As The World Turns' fan, member of a Country Club,occasional wine drinker (hey, maybe it's her) wife of smoking,beer drinking, Rhode Scholar,Bill Garrison and our Devoted Housewife Mother's Best Friend.
Long before he met me, my first smoking husband (yes,my 2nd husband smoked too the scoundrel.)(Sorry) used to visit his then then girlfriend's Southern Baptist Church. He said they put ash trays out on the tables in the basement for all the meetings and parties. Sweet. I still like the outside Drive Up church the best, however, I'm still oddly moved by a great stained glass window or a big Choir in really fancy robes.
your SYS
P.S. I think I am still officially a member of the 4th Methist Church of Santa Barbara. Also, not a smoke free zone, and it had kneeling benches so you could assume several positions throughout the service. This worked great at keeping the congregation from falling asleep, and made me an ex- Baptist feel especially reverent.
S.
OOPS Methodist.
Just had to chime in and let you know that I am now up-to-date with your blog...even at the risk of angering my lovely wife who feels that all of this is a terrible distraction to "other, more important things...", but as for me and my children - we won't be on our death beds and regret not having been up-to-date on our blog duties!
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