This post continues a series entitled intersections. As I reflect on my life’s journey, various intersections along the way come to mind. My ambition was for a straight and narrow path. but, that’s not how life goes.
In the early years of our marriage, our religious experience was mostly characterized by regular church attendance. The demands of small children and irregular shift work impeded the kind of church involvement we had experienced growing up in our respective families.
Moving to Louisville in 1964 we joined (placed membership) the Okolona Church of Christ. Our pattern of regular church attendance and nominal involvement continued until the arrival of a new minister and his family. We were immediately drawn to them and they became our surrogate family. That influence, plus the encouragement of the educational minister, led to some teaching opportunities ( my 2 years of Christian college education was a qualifying factor).
I experienced an emergence of religious fervor fueled, in part by the guilt of youthful indiscretions, abandonment of faithfulness (sins of omission and commission), mixed with a desire to be a good Christian. Also, there was the fear of going to hell.
As a result, I dedicated myself to correcting my life and trying to do everything possible to be a good Christian. Those days were exhilarating. I was a rising religious star.
During that time I was particularly convicted that Jesus calls us to help the poor and disadvantaged. I became aware of a need at the East End Boy’s Club in downtown Louisville. They were in need of coaches for youth football on Saturdays. I signed up and was pleased to find an opportunity for ministry that was also fun and rewarding.
It was on a Saturday while coaching at East End Boy’s Club that I experienced a memorable intersection of life and religion. I remember it with great clarity As I watched those young boys, images of my young, pregnant wife at home with our three energetic boys and no driver’s license, or car for that matter, flooded over me. Their husband and father had abandoned his responsibilities to them so that he could satisfy his religious needs. The voice I heard was clear, “What a fool you are”!
That was the first time I realized the destructive potential of religion. I resigned from that volunteer opportunity and returned home to ‘”coach” our young boys. I would like to say that event marked my transformation from religion to the pursuit of a relationship with Jesus, but it wasn’t. Only years later would I understand the implications of religion to my spiritual journey.