Male

Twenty years ago, as a college student, I began a quest for "ultimate" truth, to borrow Tillichian terminology. It wasn't exactly a conscious decision--more of a compulsion. I hungered to give meaning to my existence... to escape the self-loathing and phobic character of my life up until then. I used to call myself an "agnostic" because I felt so uncertain about the existence and nature of God. In fact, I was a genuine "seeker": I deeply wanted to have an encounter with Something Real.

I investigated Eastern traditions (Bhuddism and Taoism), Native American religions, and even "white" witchcraft (a la Starhawk). I was particularly curious about primitive religions: I took every course offered in that "discipline"--courses with titles like "Goddess Religion" and "Symbols of the Divine." I read Rudolph Otto, Joseph Campbell, Mircea Eliade. I took Religion as my major. But I stayed away from Jesus rather instinctively, until during my senior year I was reminded that there was a concentration requirement to take at least one course on Christianity. I ended up taking three courses that year, and writing my senior thesis on a Christian theme, but I of course funnelled my investigation of the religion through my mythology framework. Upon graduation, I mentally walked away from Christian traditions as quickly as possible, certain that that modality offered me no answers to my Ultimate questions.

My thirst for an experience with the divine only grew, but I did not have the courage to boldly experiment. I am so thankful to God that I had inhibitions... I think I had the mindset of a new recruit in a cult. Mercifully, I was kept away from such nefarious opportunists, and came repeatedly into contact with committed Christians instead. These were people leading spiritual lives that were vibrant and transforming. They adhered to rituals and mores that I sniffed at--but they possessed the kind of conviction and, well, "assuredness" (if that is a word) that resonated with me. I professed that God was unknowable, but I really longed in fact to know Him! They spoke in relational terms about Jesus--and I began to covet a relationship with Him for myself.

This was the beginning of a tug-of-war between me and the Spirit of God that lasted many years. It ended with my surrender to the claims of the historical, biblical Jesus, and my affirming His personhood, His purpose, and His accomplishments. First I was convicted that scripture was "breathed out" by God: that it is holy, inerrant, and dynamic. Then I could believe what it said about God: that He was the Creator of everything, including me; that He was loving and righteous and by right could make claims on my life. I could believe what it said about me: that I was by nature a rebel against God, and had up to then consistently missed the mark that He set for me. And I could believe what it said about Jesus: that He was the mediator between me and God; that He was sent to fulfill a divine plan to extract me from my pattern of rebellion and to make amends for my legacy of sin.