"And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven." - Matthew 18:3
Dondi said:
I'm interested in hearing from people who have had a "conversion experience" in whatever religious paradigm you've adopted. How it has impacted you life or the lives of those around you. What kind of changes were made as a result. It doesn't have to be earthshattering, it could be a gradual change of heart toward noblier purposes or a higher sense of life. Differences between how you conducted your life before, and how you conduct it now.
Would you be willing to share such a conversion?
I’m willing, Dondi. Here’s hoping that I am able to convey what I really mean.
I don’t really like the term “conversion”. Most Biblical translations use it though, so there must be some reasoning for it. But some translations employ the word “change”, including the NIV, and this seems to fit more closely with my own experience. I guess there isn’t really that much difference, but to me, “conversion” suggests something more formal or perhaps even forced by exterior means, while “change” feels more like something that comes more from within, by choice. Or maybe “conversion” sounds too much like “replacement”, while “change” seems too embrace “growth”. I don’t know—I’m sure that it is probably not that significant of a difference, just a quirk of mine or something. Also, I don’t really subscribe to the idea that one way or path is necessarily “higher”. Just different. Anyway, you said you weren’t looking for rhetoric, but a personal account, so I’ll move on.
There are different sorts of experiences that people have. Mine is not one of those kind that you hear much about, say for example, from the lay pulpit at a rousing revival, because it does not involve a history of denial and struggling with various demons before seeing the light, so to speak. But while my story may not be very glamorous, it still holds much meaning for me. Since I have come to believe we are all connected, then perhaps by telling about how this happened in my life, it will have meaning for someone else, as well.
My childhood revolved around a very gentle and loving family, just me and my young parents. I can remember them when they were teenagers, so I guess I would say that we kind of grew up together, in a way. I was raised attending a farily small Southern Baptist church where my mother taught some children’s classes, but I wouldn’t say that we were part of the “inner circle” there. I think all three of us often felt a little like outsiders in spite of whatever activities we took part in.. Maybe this was because most of the people at the church had grown up in the area, which was quite urban compared to the backwoods of Arkansas from which my parents had migrated (my dad was baptized in the White River!). Anyway, for whatever reasons, we just didn’t seem to quite fit in with the “amen” crowd.. But without being stuffy about things, my parents loved Jesus and shared His message with me.
There was always lots of music around our house. People with guitars and copies of magazines with lyrics to the latest releases and there were hymns and old folk songs, too. I was always interested in the music, so it is no wonder that one Sunday morning when I was about nine years old, it was the music that spoke to me. Or perhaps it was just that after 40 minutes or so of “hellfire and damnation” talk together with much shouting and fist banging, the music and lyrics of“Softly and Tenderly, Jesus is Calling” and “Just As I Am” helped to relieve the fear and guilt I must have been feeling, and so my heart responded. I do remember it very well to this day. I didn’t know it at the time, but my parents were in a quandry when I wanted to go forward—Mom didn’t know if they should let me, and Dad told her to let me go because it was between me and the Lord. I always think of Matthew 19:14 and corresponding verses about letting the children come to Jesus when I think of my parent’s whispered conversation that day. I believe we too often sell children short when we wrap them all in one blanket and insist that they can’t possibly understand these things at a young age. I have lived half a century this coming February, and not only do I have lots of experience with kids, but I can also look back on that moment and tell you that I knew exactly what I was accepting. It was the hope that there is indeed Love and Mercy to be embraced, no matter how frightening things seem or how small and powerless and inadequate we may feel.
So anyway, you might think that would be all of the story. And even though you may even wish it was, because it is getting to be a long post here, there’s more. Life, of course went on and I grew up. Along the way, I was a “Jesus Freak”, which was not the same thing back then as it is now. It was more like being a flower child with tracts, or at least that is how I remember it. At one point, I rededicated my life to missionary work. I never made it to Africa or wherever I thought it was that missionaries went, but I did, over the years, work in the music and children’s ministries of both a Methodist church and then a Missionary Baptist (not Southern) congregation.
But I still never felt quite like I “fit”. Over time, I began to understand why. I started hearing more and more Christians declare that Jews and Muslims and Hindus and Buddhists were going to not only be destroyed by God, but they were destined for an eternity of torture in the literal fire of Hell. This is not the Love that called out to the child in me. This was NOT what I accepted. Nevertheless, I spent a few years trying to go along the best I knew how with the majority of those around me, I guess because I just couldn’t fathom that this is what they really believed. I thought maybe I was missing something in what they were saying—that they didn’t really mean it that way. I consoled myself with the idea that they just meant that Christianity is the only religion which offers a Savior. But alas, I finally had to face the fact that many of them really believed in a God that seemed more like a devil than a loving Creator.
What to do, then? Well, I knew that Christ had always been there in my heart. So I decided to ask Him. About a year ago, I was literally on what might very well have been my deathbed—lots of people thought so, including some doctors. I asked God to please not let me leave this life without reconciling this confusion.. I needed to know. And I saw a hand reach out to me, and I heard a voice that said, “Well, then come on, my child—you are in for a wonderful adventure!” So here I am telling you that the adventure has indeed been wonderful, and that even though I have been speaking “Christian” throughout this post, I can now say with confidence that religion can sometimes get in the way of Truth. I am not saying that all things regarding religion are bad. What I am saying is that by examining my religion with the curiosity of a child, and trusting that there is Love and Mercy to be embraced, I find that once again Truth shines through. And it shines through in other religions, as well. I can even find it in some philosophies that do not even describe Truth in terms of “God”. But Truth is Truth. If we earnestly seek it, it will be revealed.
One of the hardest things to do is to take, for example, the Bible, and read it without all the preconceptions we may be used to, whether that is a certain theology or eschatology or soteriology or some other “-ology”. And it is nearly impossible if one is not willing to listen to others whose viewpoints have always been considered “taboo” according to the authority figures in one’s life. I had to keep reminding myself that if there was any Truth to be found in that Spirit of Love to which I responded, then asking questions and trusting the answers I received could not hurt me, even if those answers were somehow different than what I had most often heard, even from “the experts”. One thing with which I really struggled was when I discovered via some Jewish acquaintances that there actually may be some mistranslations when trying to translate some things from Hebrew into other languages! But you know what? I discovered that even something like this does not break that golden thread that runs through many Traditions. It just serves to help me find the universal message entwined there.
So, someone recently asked me if I am a “Universalist”. My answer? I don’t know. I don’t know what that might be, as I have not studied up on it. And I imagine I will do that if time permits. I can only say that I do know there are certain philosophies and religions out there which I cannot embrace. Those would be the ones that are based on exclusivity or ones that are born of vengefulness. So, there will be some that I can look at and find that thread of Love and Wisdom and Truth, but there will be various schools of belief within those same philosophies and religions that I cannot accept. Christianity is one of these. There are Christian ideals I will never abandon nor deny. But I no longer embrace certain viewpoints within Christianity that I do not believe are characteristic of what Christ really taught.
Well, there you have my story. Thanks for giving me the opportunity to tell it. My apologies for being so longwinded.
InPeace,
InLove
