David Male is a member of
Middleton Monthly Meeting, Ohio Yearly Meeting of Friends. He
lives near Cleveland, Ohio, USA, where he owns and manages an
automobile detailing business and experiences regular spiritual visions
that would be alarming to other people. Somehow he seems to take
it all in stride. In this piece David shares a personal epiphany
that we can all learn from.
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Part 1: Cracks in a Hardened Heart

I began the conscious portion of my spiritual journey as a confused
atheist who became convinced that my own ideas about the world were no
longer working, but with no interest in having any else tell me what to
believe. An unprogrammed Quaker meeting in a college town with
both liberal and conservative roots was a providential place for me to
land. With no white man in a robe preaching at me from a pulpit,
I felt I was free to sort things out for myself. I wonder today,
had I known then what I was getting myself into, if I would have stayed.
The first thing that impressed me, however, was that here was a group
of people who seemed to be intelligent and well-educated but
nevertheless felt a need or a desire to set aside an hour or so of
their busy lives to just sit and ponder things. Perhaps if these
folks could recognize their need for something outside (or perhaps,
deep within) themselves there might just be something to it.
Nothing more than that, other than my mothers persistent urging, kept
me going back. I had no interest in God. When I became
interested in the possibility of God, I didnt want to hear about
Jesus. When I became interested in the person of Jesus, I didnt
want to hear about Christ. It was a long time before I came to
understand that Christ was a Greek word for a manifestation of the
Hebrew understanding of a single God of the universe that is all
loving, all knowing and all powerful. But Im getting ahead of
myself.
There were some very sweet old Friends in that meeting who were
lovingly patient with my confusion and reluctance to embrace what I
couldnt understand, as well as a number of younger folks who appeared
very impatient with a society that was very unloving of those at its
margins, which seemed to include everyone but white heterosexual
American men who eat meat. There was a ninety-year-old woman who
repeatedly urged us to, never underestimate the power of prayer, in a
tone that suggested she knew what she was talking about. Another
old Friend, who apparently was raised Catholic but became a Quaker
while in prison for refusing to fight in World War II, often rose and,
after quoting some scripture from memory, spoke at length in circles
that didnt always make sense but often contained pearls of
wisdom. Then there was a woman about my sisters age (Im a tail
end baby boomer, youngest of four.) who talked about the Bible as if it
actually had real meaning and value in her life and made me curious
enough to want to read it myself.
I began to feel some comfort in this strange mix of people. On
one particularly rough morning, I sat despondently wondering where I
would summon the strength to get up from my chair when the meeting was
over. Suddenly I felt as if someone had placed their hand on the
nape of my neck, and I instantly knew that everything was going to be
okay. I didnt know how, I didnt know when, but I knew it was
going to be okay, and I knew it was the hand of God. I was
hooked. I started reading all kinds of books, attending all kinds
of meetings, looking to recreate that feeling of peace and comfort that
came in that brief moment. I met with a new-age group that
listened to strange music and consulted crystals and spirits seeking
peace and enlightenment. I even started to look at the Bible!
The new-agers were strange, and so was the Bible, but this guy Jesus
was pretty intriguing. At Easter time I was flipping TV channels
and I stumbled upon the epic, Jesus of Nazareth and got intrigued by
the plot before I knew what it was about. Here was this guy,
helping the little people, confronting the powerful and confounding the
smug, gathering a hopeful band of misfits and altering the course of
history without ever raising a sword. I even found myself on my
knees at my coffee table when they nailed him to the cross.
Forgive them, he said, They dont know what theyre doing.
Neither did I.
One day in that Quaker meeting, the thought came to me that Id read a
lot of books in my life, but never the Bible. How can you call
yourself educated, the little voice said, when you havent even read
the book that so much of western civilization was based on? So I
went to the woman mentioned above and asked her how to get
started. She gave me a great little book that contained an
overview of the bible story and a guide that showed me how to get
through the whole thing in one year. Once I plowed my way through
the begats in Genesis I got into the stories and finished up
Revelation in six months. Much of it didnt impress me, but some
of it was great! I loved Josephs story, because everything bad
that happened to him ended up being good because he trusted God.
Much of the Old Testament seemed horrid, and much of Pauls writings
seemed rigid, but the teachings of Jesus stood head and shoulders above
the rest, as if written in red letters as Ive since seen them printed
in some versions of the text.
From the Old Testament I gleaned a story of a God who was impossibly
hard to follow and a people who prospered whenever they turned to God
and suffered when they went their own way. Jesus seemed so right,
so true, and yet his way seemed an even more impossible version of the
old way. From there it went down hill, as if Jesus had been a
peak moment in time, a nearness to God and Truth that humankind had
never attained, before or since, destroyed by a world that couldnt
bear to see his Light, a messy, marvelous, unattainable ideal.
I wanted more. I wanted to believe that when Jesus urged his
followers to be perfect as their Father in Heaven was perfect, he
wasnt just hanging an eternal guilt trip on them by setting the bar
above their potential. But who was I? I could see what was
wrong with the world, but my own life was enough of a mess to convince
me that I was far from perfect. I didnt want to feel guilty, but
I wasnt satisfied with myself at all.
Somewhere along the way, I was sitting quietly in meeting for worship,
minding my own business, when someone, I dont remember who, he might
have been a visitor, stood up and quoted a passage where Jesus said,
Whenever two or three are gathered in my name, there will I be in the
midst of them. Now, still being rather cynical, I thought, Oh,
yeah, and I suppose hes sitting over there. I looked over
there, and there he was.
Part 2: What is Real?
He was sitting there, looking at me, with a kind of quirky smile on his
face as if to say, Of course Im here, where did you think Id
be? It was like he was laughing at me and loving me to my core
at the same time, and I thought, Ive got to change. In that
one moment, that one look, he read my whole life, and read it back to
me, all the hurts, the failures, the potential, the disappointments,
the beauty, the ugliness, and it was all okay, but it was never going
to be the same, I was never going to be able to pretend that there was
no God, that he didnt love me, that I didnt matter, that I couldnt
be more than I was, or that I wasnt good enough, that somehow,
everything I ever needed to know was revealed to me in that moment but
it was going to take the rest of my life to understand it all.
Im not sure when exactly this happened. That part of my life is
a blur. I think it was before I finished reading the Bible all
the way through the first time, but after I saw the Jesus of Nazareth
movie. The face I saw may have resembled the actor who played
Jesus in that film, maybe not, it was the look and not the features
that I recall. I dont even remember what he was wearing,
although in my minds eye I put him in the kind of off-white tunic type
garment typical of traditional Middle Eastern wear, complete with
sandals I am unfit to loosen, but it could just as easily have been
jeans, t-shirt and tennis shoes. What a beautiful smile.
What deep, penetrating eyes. What complete, overcoming,
passionate, unconditional love. Father, brother, teacher, friend,
not above me, not below me, beside me to guide me. (Ive seen a
lot of portraits of Jesus since then. Some look like him, some
dont.) I had the same feeling Id had when that hand had
touched me that time before, but more urgently, more certainly, more
specifically the touch of Jesus, and through him, the touch of my
loving God.
And then I thought, Oh, David, now youre really cracking up, youre imagining that youre seeing Jesus.
And then the little voice said, David, what makes your imagination any less real than the rest of you?
And I thought of dreams, and art, and how everything that exists is
created, from a thought, an imagination, an idea, God said, Let there
be light. And there was light. And Jesus was real, he was
alive, he was present in the midst of any two or three who knew about
him or chose to gather in his name, we may not always see him but
hes there, and he always was and always will be, if we believe it,
then its true. Oh, but thats just fantasy, isnt it? What
about those hippies gazing at crystals, dont they believe that stuff,
too? Thats it, I must be cracking up.
Besides, what about all the crazy things people have done in Jesus
name? What about the Crusades, the witch hunts? What about
all the people who say, God is love but insist he intends most people
to receive eternal torment for their failures in this short life on
earth? What about all my Jewish, Moslem, and other non-Christian
friends? What about David Koresh, Jim Jones, Joseph Smith, or
Hare Krishna, the Dhalai Lama, Thomas Jefferson for Gods sake?
Who was right, who was wrong? Is there any Truth? Does it
really matter?
In my mind, he just sits there, smiling at me that smirky smile,
reading my life, playing it back to me, telling me that he loves me
just the way I am, convincing me that Ive got to change.
So I went back to the Bible, and read it again. This time, I hear
him speaking in all the Old Testament stories, even the horrid
ones. Hes in every Psalm and Proverb, every prophet gets closer
and closer to speaking his voice. Finally he rises triumphantly
to the Cross, of all places, to die at the hand of evil or confused
people who just cant comprehend his love because theyre so afraid of
dying, or losing control, and then hes no longer dead, but appearing
and speaking to his followers, who scarcely believe it themselves, and
then to zealous men like Saul and me who never knew him but persecuted
his followers for threatening our world view, and Saul becomes Paul and
builds a tabernacle for him called the Church that never can contain
him but becomes for many a substitute for the real thing while
nevertheless preserving the Good News on down through the ages so that
you and I can hear the story and choose whether or not to believe that
its true.
I talked to everyone I could about him, some who had heard or read
about him, others who knew and had a relationship with him. Some
were attached to books and rules, others walked more gently and
assuredly because their fears and doubts were gone. It was as if
many wanted to believe, or thought they should believe, while others
simply knew. They made me crazy, I wanted to know.
I asked one of them about the loaves and fishes. Id been to
enough pot luck meals to know where the food came from, but where did
they get the baskets? He asked me, David, do you believe the
Bible? I answered that it was either true or it wasnt, it
couldnt be both. He asked, Do you believe that God created
heaven and earth? I conceded that someone must have, other than
myself. Then he floored me with, So whats the big deal about a
few fish?
Ever since I found out that Santa Claus wasnt a fat man who came down
the chimney and ate milk and cookies, Id insisted on proof, absolute
physical verification before I was willing to believe in
anything. But now he had me stumped. I had no idea at all
how God managed to create heaven and earth, but here we are. Who
was I to tell God what he could or could not do? I realized right
then that my brain had been my God: I only believed what I could
understand. I saw how my arrogance and pride had blinded me. But
if God (or whatever) created life itself, certainly he could choose to
create it differently one time. Suddenly, the virgin birth of
Christ is no obstacle, even if it fails to fit the usual pattern
explained by the biologists. Walking on water? Quantum
theory might soon explain that one. Certainly one with the keys
to the universe could suspend himself above an angry sea. Rising
from the dead? Why not?
I re-read the story of Thomas, poor fool, didnt believe the witnesses
of the risen Christ until he saw with his own eyes, felt with his own
hands. My Lord and my God, he finally confesses. Jesus
chastises him (lovingly, of course), Thomas, you are blessed because
you have seen and you believe, but many will be even more blessed
because they will believe without seeing. I am blessed like
Thomas. Are you even more blessed, or will you wait until you
see? I used to think I was special, that Jesus had come to me in
this special way, that I had some kind of special role or
something. People hear my story and say, David, I wish that
would happen to me, then I could believe what you believe. Well,
you can believe what I saw, if you know Im not crazy, if you know how
my life has been changed, if you know how many Christians have given
their lives for their faith in the Risen Lord, the Living God, The
Chosen Messiah of God, you can be more blessed than I.
But I know, the rest of the story isnt all that pretty. There
are seemingly compelling reasons to reject the Jesus story, besides its
outrageous claims. Some are purely logical. Like, how could
he be fully man, and at the same time, fully God? If he was God,
how could he die? If God died, who resurrected him? How can
three (father, son, holy spirit) be one God?
Others have more to do with the vast gulf between the morality of Jesus
and the behavior of his followers, about which enough has been said and
done to remain skeptical for a lifetime. Then theres just the
absurdity of the suggestion that God would demand a one-size-fits-all
theology in a world so culturally diverse. Taking all that into
consideration, I decided my special mission was to translate the
eternal truths of Jesus message into language that wouldnt offend,
language that didnt conjure up images of religious abuse perpetrated
against unsuspecting children and so-called heathens throughout the
ages.
I began talking about my experiences and the things I was learning
about God in terms that didnt include hot button words. Whole
realms of Gospel power were off-limits, as words like Christ, blood,
sacrifice, obedience, repentance, sanctification, even God and Jesus at
times could not be used with offending someones sensibilities.
It was okay to talk about light, seed, truth (but only with a small
t, as in my truth or your truth, but never The Truth), love,
peace, forgiveness, joy, compassion, etc., and people generally seemed
to enjoy the messages. Sometimes I wish I could go back to the
popularity of saying what people want to hear, but the Lord wasnt
finished with me yet.
Part 3: From Mess to Mission
I heard a lecture at a Quaker Hill conference on evangelism about
George Fox and his use of language. The speaker talked about how
Fox used all the metaphors, not just light and seed, but also cross and
blood. She made a convincing case that there is power in the
language, and if we surrender the language we surrender the
power. She believed that liberal Friends had surrendered the
power of Gospel language to the false prophets who preached a different
kingdom than the one of Christ. I went home realizing that what I
thought was translating had really been editing. Instead of
sharing what the Lord had laid on my heart, I was changing the words so
that no one, especially David, would be uncomfortable. Good bye
Mr. Popularity.
After an experience at Ohio Yearly Meeting in which an old Quaker lady
told me that she had stopped worrying about her sin and learned to
rest in the love of Jesus and let his blood wash away [her] sin, the
scales fell from my eyes. I was truly born again into a new
heaven and a new earth in which all creation had a new smell.
Before, I had come to believe that God had the power to raise Jesus
from the dead. Now, I knew that he intended to use that power to
restore all creation, beginning with me. It was no longer about
me struggling to be the best person I could be so I could hopefully
earn the love of God or at least feel better about being
imperfect. It was all about the perfect love of God beginning to
transform me into the child of God I was always meant to be.
Well, as you may imagine, my talk about the blood of Christ didnt go
over too well with my liberal Friends, and my now Ive got the answer
attitude didnt help. Meanwhile, most of the Christians I knew
were hopelessly apathetic about the spiritual, economic and social
inequities of the world. Except for a few pockets of spiritually
conservative yet socially progressive Christian Quakers I knew, my
spiritual world became a pretty lonely place. It was during the
loneliest times that I drew most heavily on the strength and
companionship of Jesus, and my confidence in His Truth grew as I
learned to polish some of the rough edges off of mine. Im still
not afraid to ruffle feathers when called upon, but I no longer feel
the need to do so to defend myself, and I hope that Im a more faithful
listener as a result. A few years ago I discovered the Black
Baptist Church, where Jesus is known and celebrated as a champion of
the oppressed, and Ive discovered joys of praising God through Gospel
music that I never imagined among the quiet Quakers. Im still
and always will be a Quaker at heart, but if I dont argue too much
about theology I get along with the Baptists just fine. Im
trying to learn that its okay for them to be pleasantly surprised when
they get to heaven to see that God has invited so many sinners to the
banquet!
Part 4: The Second Chapter of Acts
Oh, now, back to the title of this little autobiography.
Recently, Ive become fascinated by the idea of convergent
Friends. Ever since my early days in that conservative/liberal
college town meeting, Ive yearned for a coming together of the deep
Christian faith of conservative Friends and the passion for the
suffering world of liberal Friends, and my recent experience with the
Baptists has awakened me to the joy and the power of praise that are
often missing among unprogrammed Friends. As a delegate from my
yearly meeting to Friends World Committee for Consultation (FWCC), Ive
enjoyed wonderful opportunities to see all these elements come
together--if only briefly--enough to glimpse the kind of power that
must have existed in the early days before we all began carving up the
gospel into little pieces. Now Ive discovered this little
phenomenon known as convergent Friends in which Friends across our
various traditions are reaching out to one another to rediscover that
life and power.
I wrote this little piece because I know there are many who want to be
excited about the possibility of convergence, but are worried about
what that might mean for their ideas about who Jesus is and what he
means to us as Friends. I want to reassure Friends who are leery
of Christians that its okay, and even proper, to resist corrupt
interpretations of the Gospel, while at the same time challenging you
to recognize that what you love so much about your Quaker faith comes
directly from a sound and critical understanding of the Good News of
Jesus Christ. To my Christian Friends, I want to assure you that
Jesus isnt going anywhere, and in fact his Gospel is powerful enough
to overcome the resistance of sincere seekers who reject his false
prophets, and encourage you to continue to patiently insist on what you
know to be True without feeling the need to isolate yourselves from
those who see things differently.
There are many other things I could discuss, things about
sanctification that I heard explained and saw demonstrated among
Holiness Friends in central Indiana. Grace: The Power to Change
by Dr. James Richards, introduced me to Impact Ministries and
explained to me how to identify with the Righteousness of Christs
Spirit rather than the corruption of my own flesh as I grow into his
image and likeness. Twelve Step programs helped me recognize
and confront my personal demons while rebuilding my temporal life in
simple, practical ways, reminding me that God wants us to have our
heads in the clouds with him, but our feet out to be firmly planted on
earth, for that is where our fellow travelers are, and that is where
our work must be done. I could write about the many other angels
along the way who have brought me pearls of wisdom, like the woman who,
when challenged to defend her Christian faith, replied, Oh, its not
about what I believe. Its about a relationship with a God who
knows me, loves me, and is always there to help me, guide me and
strengthen me, who teaches me how to love my neighbor as I love
myself. I could give examples of how God has provided for me,
like when I had no fellowship of like-minded believers and discovered
Charles Stanley on the radio, whose In Touch Ministries taught me
ways to apply sound Biblical principles to everyday life, and the guy
at work who answered my questions about the Bible and helped me
understand how it could all be true in spite of what my liberal
education had taught me.
But mostly, since today is the day many Christians commemorate
Pentecost (See Acts, Chapter 2), I want to talk about coming
together. I want to express my emphatic belief in the Power of
God through His Holy Spirit to unite people from all different
backgrounds and perspectives into one overcoming Truth that can be
heard and experienced in any language and will, when responded to,
change the world of all who receive it. That Truth is Love, Gods
Love for all of us, Gods desire that we would love him in return, that
we would begin to demonstrate our love for him by learning to love one
another, not with a fickle love that glosses over hurts and real
differences but with an overcoming love that wont rest until lover and
loved are found in one accord, united in Truth, and working together
for the Kingdom of Love. When we experience it we hear a mighty
wind, we see tongues of fire, we shake the countryside for miles
around, choose whatever metaphor you like, theyre all inadequate
anyway, for Gods life-changing power, whenever and however He
manifests himself, is beyond any words or earthly image we can supply.
Whether you consider yourself a Christian or not, I urge you to look
beyond limited, parochial understandings of what Jesus is all about and
recognize what is really going on here. God is breaking in to
human history in overcoming ways to lead us into all Truth and into an
intimate relationship with Him through all creation. We can
begin by cleaning up, with Gods help, our own little corners, first in
our own hearts, where our own separation from our Creator brings us
unimagined grief, then reaching out to our friends and loved ones with
gentleness and mercy, and finally pouring ourselves out toward our
neighbors and even those we perceive as enemies, even if only with a
prayer, until God empowers us to truly love one another as He has loved
us, by providing us with everything we need, even sending His only Son
to die on a cross for our sins, and rising again to demonstrate victory
over death.
If youve taken the time to read through this whole story, I thank you
and praise God for giving you patience with me. If some of what
you read has resonated with your own experience, I hope youve found it
encouraging. If not, I hope youve been challenged to look at
your own relationship with Truth to see if there might be something
that youre missing. A good Baptist sermon never ends without an
altar call, where nonbelievers are invited to give their lives to
Christ. You wont get that from me, at least not today.
Ill be satisfied if you would open your mind just enough to say, Hmm,
maybe Ive been wrong about that, or, dare I suggest, Maybe Jesus is
right. Then your heart will be open to receive Him, no altar
required, and His Truth will be revealed to you in time. You
already know it anyway. Its written on your heart.
* * * * * * * *
If you have questions, comments or complaints about any of this, or are
interested in fellowship opportunities, dont hesitate to contact me
directly at drm4you@hotmail.com, or contact the person or organization
that brought it to you. I hope we have the opportunity to meet
personally some day soon to deepen our friendship, but remember that
the most important friend you could ever have is always near you, and
His Kingdom is within your reach.
Written by David Male. 2007. All rights are not reserved. This
message may be reproduced in whole or in part in any medium by anyone
who is motivated to spread the love and Truth of God honestly and
unselfishly.