Last week, I was asked by a friend to give a testimony at our “Testimonies of Amazement” service. I thought that it was a fantastic opportunity to tell the story of how Sarah and I arrived at the Village Church and how God has changed our lives since that day. This is what I said.
Good morning. I read a quote recently by Leonard Sweet that summarized well the story I’m sharing this morning. He said:
Sometimes life takes shape in such a way that a [person] is like the missing piece of a puzzle: the exact fit for the situation. Up to that point, the jagged pieces of your life don’t seem to fit into any significant pattern. But then life calls you out and summons you forth.
Last month, my wife quit her job at the horse hospital and we left our comfortable apartment in the suburbs. We settled in Newark, NJ for the sole purpose of living closer to our newfound love: the Village Church. Our friends and our relatives have each asked the same question over and over again: “Couldn’t you just have found another church where you were already living?”
The answer requires some explanation.
I have been a serious Christian since the age of 18 — mostly because one man had the vision and the humanity to spend four hours with me in a New Jersey diner, listening to me tell my story. I didn’t realize it at the time, but what Gary was doing was demonstrating the love of Christ to me. It was there, in our conversation, that God Himself was doing what he does best with His people: drawing others to Himself through the love of His church.
Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine what it must have been like for the disciples, traveling across Israel with Jesus, camping out with him and just…talking. I smile when I picture how Jesus must have listened to Peter tell his own story. Hanging out with Gary was a lot like that.
Shortly after I became a Christian, I discovered the Christian bookstore. I started listening to DC Talk when their latest album went platinum in the mid-nineties. I paid attention to the church services Christian radio. I went to CreationFest. I watched VeggieTales. In short, I had become part of a new marketing demographic — engaging in all the activities that I thought Christians were supposed to be doing.
At least, for a while. The years that followed that senior year of high school were filled difficulty as I tried to find clarity in a post-youth-group world. The open hostility of the university setting to the Gospel quickly alerted me to the fact that my spiritual journey to that point had been extremely shallow. I discovered that I had lost the ability to even speak the same language as my classmates — the same words that brought vigorous nods from the kids in youth group drew blank stares in college. It was another year before I’d meet another mentor, Jode, and really start to think through how effective our Christian kitsch — the t-shirts and bumper stickers and coffee mugs–are in our witness to those around us. These things, while not harmful in and of themselves, often provide a way for us to just broadcast the words of the Gospel without having to deal relationally with other people. It occurred to me that if this same culture can’t see truth of God written across the night sky and in the eyes of a child, then what makes us so sure that they’re going to hear it in our catchy marketing slogans?
So, I determined to relearn the culture from which I had so methodically isolated myself. I discovered a love for philosophy, and I cracked open those secular CDs. I started to engage in college ministry with InterVarsity and allowed God to stretch me by having tough conversations at book tables and campus events. I started to investigate how Jesus interacted with people and began to see how he went out of his way to care for and draw them into an understanding of his Lordship. Not as a convert, and not as a demographic, but as a person in need of healing.
It wasn’t long before I realized just how counter-cultural these ideas really are. My co-leaders in my campus ministry didn’t have the same convictions I did and I was discouraged with the overall lack of concern for intellectual integrity. Indeed, not only was my college ministry reluctant to engage students on anything other than moral grounds, but my church was also following a similar model. This frustrated me greatly because our neighbors have honest questions that begin at the very essence of who they are. They wonder in the midst of their broken relationships whether there is an answer to their heartache, whether there will ever be an end to their self-obsession. Alistair Begg put it far more succinctly than I could when he said that we cannot hope to overturn contemporary thought on the basis of having memorized five Bible verses. Our culture doesn’t need another neatly packaged value proposition–they need the church to lay its life down for others.
Shortly after my wife and I were married, we realized that we needed a change. Over the course of our relationship, we had watched friends and loved ones walk away from the church, highlighting for both of us just how critical it is for us to be sincere in our love and honest in our pursuit of these mysteries we proclaim. We decided to start looking for a church that held these same convictions.
When we first walked through the door of the Village Church in April 2003, it was like a breath of fresh air. We came to the Covenant Entrance service and were amazed at the life in this church. The Meditation opened with a quotation from a prominent author that simultaneously challenged and inspired. The Confession prayer described completely the state of my heart entering the building. And the worship–this church worships like our God is worth getting passionate about. But, the most outstanding display we saw of the church being the church was during the new members’ acceptance. We watched as Sam talked about each new member as a person, not as just another name on the church roster.
Sarah and I prayed about coming back here, despite the hour-long drive from Dover, NJ. Two weeks later, God brought us back to the church. We prayed that He would hasten relationships and that making friends in this new place would happen quickly. Immediately after that service, we were invited to lunch with fifteen people.
This is our testimony of amazement: that God, in His sovereignty, gave us individually the conviction of being real with people, and meeting them where they are. He did this, not so we would grow conceited in the church where we were, but so He could lead us here to this community, that we might partner together with the Village Church for the sake of the Gospel and to the glory of God.
He also provided Sarah with a fantastic job here in the city, and an apartment within walking distance of the Path, but that’s a story for another day.