On When I Became a Christian

I became a Christian in 1987 and before that I was, um, how would I say this…diabolically opposed to Christians. I made fun of them. Argued with them. Made certain they knew how distasteful I thought they were. Ridiculed them. Heckled them. I once sat at a Christian wedding  (it was my cousin who was getting married) and made fun of the entire ceremony even going so far as to “marry” my friend Brad, who went with me, to show just how ludicrous I thought the whole thing was. Loudly. We were laughing  and repeating sarcastically what the Pastor was saying. We even announced to the happy couple that we too got “married” and proceeded to call each other “husband” and “wife” for the next 10 years of our friendship. We thought it was so funny to introduce each other to anyone we dated this way. And this was one of my milder antics.

When I lived in Manhattan, there was a guy who continually tried to get me to sleep with him. And, yup, he was a Christian. And engaged. I would argue with him all the time asking him how he could be a “Christian” and behave the way he did? I would point out that I was not a Christian but had better morals than he did. He would defend himself by saying that Jesus loved him no matter what, to which I would say that is the stupidest thing I had ever heard. “Do you mean to tell me you can do whatever you want and Jesus just forgives you?!” He would answer that Jesus can forgive anything and I would snort my dissent. “You’re not a very good advertisement for your religion,” I told him. “It’s a relationship, not a religion,” he responded. “Well, you’re not being a very good person in your “relationship” to Him or your girl,” I spat back, doing the air quotes in a mocking way when I said “relationship”. That seemed to hit him hard and I was very proud of myself for showing him what a hypocrite he was and prouder still that I wasn’t stupid enough to fall for this religion.

This is not to say that I had never believed in God. When I was a little girl we went to the Episcopal Church. I had gone through Catechism and the like and talked to God all the time.  The times I felt closest to God was not in church, for goodness sake I used to make up gymnastic routines in my head during the sermon. It was when I was just talking to Him; asking Him things, praying for my family when I felt a closeness with Him. During the sermon, it seemed to me, we just got yelled at and told how horrible we were and who wants to hear that?

But, in my youth, I also mistakenly thought that if I was good and kept close to Him that nothing bad would ever happen to me. And, well, that’s not the case. Within a few years everything that I loved and held dear was taken away and I got mad at God. It wasn’t huge things, in retrospect; my gymnastics career ending because of injury and losing the boy I loved, but for a 16 year old girl, it was the world. So, by the time I was in college, and heard about Jesus from a Christian perspective, I just didn’t want to hear it. Tried that, He’s mean, no thanks.

The way Christians behaved clearly was a hurdle for me.  Jim and Tammy Baker and their huge PTL ministry were big at this time and my nose automatically wrinkled in distaste every time I heard or saw anything about them. They were all about money and hatred, and I just couldn’t align myself with anything so icky. Anybody who had to hide under that mask of make-up was up to no good, I would always say. And, of course, we all know the history. When their world all fell apart, I was right there mouthing off to yet another Christian who happened to be in my life. She smiled at me kindly and said, “You shouldn’t blame God for what people do in His name.”  She explained that God loved me (whatever!) and if I really wanted to know Him, I should learn about Him, not take my cues from people.  She stressed God wasn’t about manipulation or hypocrisy at all, but that yes, some of His followers were.

We ended up having a nice conversation and a week or so later someone on campus handed me a mini Bible that only had the New Testament in it.

For whatever reason, I started to read that mini Bible, but the more I read, the more questions I had about things. And here was my dilemma…how did I ask one of my Christian friends a question without getting preached at? I’d heard the whole “you’re a sinner and going to hell” thing and, let me just say this now, no one has ever wanted to follow Jesus being told this. So, I would try and ask questions in a roundabout way and I quickly found out which Christians were the hell and damnation Christians and which ones just honestly answered my questions. They also steered me toward some incredible books and I did a lot of research.

As I read more and had more questions answered, one of these Christians suggested I go to church with them. It took me a while, but I started to go. At this time I was living with my fiance and he was going on this journey with me. We would talk about the Bible and slowly, we had to start talking about Jesus. He seemed to jump in pretty quickly, but I resisted.

Honestly, Jesus was the hold up for me. All of these Christians I didn’t respect talked about Jesus. Jesus this and Jesus that and He was really more of a caricature to me than anything else. But, the Bible said He was real. Not only real, but God. The God. The Alpha. The I Am.  The Redeemer. The Savior.  And I couldn’t wrap my brain around the thought that He knew me and loved me. Was it pride? Was it arrogance on my part? Or could I just not believe I was deserving? Was it unbelief in Him or myself?

As I continued to go to church, I understood that the next step was to start praying. I read that if I had questions, I could ask Him and He would answer, and well, let’s put that to the test. I would pray about a question and then go to church and low and behold wouldn’t that be what the pastor was talking about that day. I’d look around and try to find out who told him? Who told that pastor I had that question? This would happen over and over again…it still happens to this day, I might add.

Yet, I still resisted. I had all the knowledge, I had all the evidence, but I wasn’t ready to jump. I immersed myself in all things that would help me learn and one was the radio. I would listen to Christian sermons on my way to the U. Now, I was always late and parking was ridiculous. Even if I was on time, I would end up being late because I couldn’t find a parking spot. So, one day I got so mad I started yelling to God…’okay, you’re supposed to be there for me in even the smallest situation? Prove it! Find me a freakin (I didn't say 'freakin') parking spot!’ As soon as the words were out of my mouth, someone pulled out of a primo spot. Did I say ‘thank you’? Nope. In my mind, there had not been enough time for Him to answer; I had just gotten lucky.

And then, every day for a week, that same primo spot would open up just as I pulled in to that lot. Every day. At different times. By the fifth day, I sat there crying in my car, because I knew it could only be God. And several truths hit me; He does love me, He cares about me, He is real. The last one is what brought the tears. He is not a caricature; He died for me. Stupid, sinner me who would demand a parking spot from the Creator of the universe. I’m lucky He takes us where we are, because truly, a bolt of lightning is what I deserved. But, He was gracious and gave me what I needed to understand Him.

My life changed pretty quickly after that. The Bible tells us that when you become a Christian, a veil is pulled back from your eyes; suddenly, the mysteries of the Bible and of God Himself are revealed to you. And that certainly was my experience. Passages or concepts I really couldn’t understand suddenly were clear to me.

I moved out of the apartment I shared with my fiancé and within a few months felt God leading me to break up with him. I heard God’s call on my life and seemed to know instinctively which way to go. I learned a lot about faith and what it meant to lean not on my own understanding. Becoming a Christian gave me a peace and calmness that people noticed. I spoke freely of this change and (surprise!) faced the scorn and biting tongues of people who didn’t believe. My biting tongue was gone, replaced by understanding…I certainly knew where they were coming from.

And, this is how I know God is gracious and forgiving and changes people, because my goodness I was a mouthy little brat! And God used that fact.

A few months after I got saved, my friends and I went to a Billy Idol concert. It was a great show and as we were leaving, we were singing and dancing when we encountered a group of people yelling, “Worship God, not Billy Idol!” They were right in our faces and screaming in anger. And that made me mad. The girl who yelled at me got a big surprise when I stopped. I shook my head, “No, you’re wrong,” I said. “You are making judgments, which Matthew tells us in wrong. You don’t know my heart or anyone else’s heart. It’s wrong for you to assume because we are at a concert that we don’t know the Living God. And enjoying Billy Idol’s music doesn’t mean we are worshiping him…shame on you for your judgments!” She looked startled at my words and as the crowds pushed us away I heard her yell, “God loves you!” to the crowd, which in my mind was much, much better. Because it was truth.

So, this was my beginning to following Jesus. His truths are what hold me together; what has gotten me through the most horrendous of times. He amazes me and His miracles still surprise me.

And, yes, I still sometimes pray for a parking spot when I am late!