From: jim@goodwordusa.org   
      
   It's true that there are many kinds of churches, many varied and   
   interesting groups that claim to be following Jesus Christ in some   
   way.  And a great many of these varied and differing groups really are   
   Christian.   
      
   Now I've been around a while.  As a youth growing up in the 50's and   
   60's I usually went to a Baptist church.  We lived in Southeast Texas,   
   and I think there must've been more Baptist churches than any other in   
   those days.  But I don't really know if that's the case.  There were   
   also lots of Methodist churches, lots of Catholic churches, lots of   
   Pentecostal and other churches.   
      
   I never actually came to know the Lord while I was in the Baptist   
   churches.  But I did become a member of Timbergrove Baptist Church in   
   Houston, Texas.  I was baptized when I was about 10, if I remember   
   right.  And the good people of Timbergrove Baptist did their best to   
   include me in the many activities they had going.  But I really hated   
   church.   
      
   I only went because my mom and step-dad thought that I should go to   
   church.  They arranged for me to get a ride every Sunday morning.  I   
   know they really meant well.  They hoped, I'm sure, that some of the   
   good Baptist religion or maybe the Bible-teaching would make a lasting   
   impression on me.  What impressed me most, though, was that I really   
   didn't want to be in church on Sunday mornings (or Sunday evenings, or   
   any other time).   
      
   But as much as I hated church, I would use the fact of my membership   
   at Timbergrove Baptist Church to ward off any other Christians who   
   attacked me with the questions that evangelizing Christians sometimes   
   ask.  "Oh, yes," I would tell them, "I know Jesus as my Savior.  I'm   
   saved.  I'm a member of Timbergrove Baptist Church."   
      
   All that I had going for me was that membership, and it meant nothing   
   at all to God.  And the Lord was good enough to put me in places, from   
   time to time, to help me figure that out.   
      
   I remember, for example, standing out in the middle of a West Texas   
   wilderness one evening, totally alone, except for God and the   
   occasional cactus.  I was about 15 or 16, and on my way back from   
   California.  I had been hitch-hiking and had taken an old road that I   
   thought might be a short cut.   
      
   By the time I realized I had made a mistake, I was miles south of the   
   nearest highway.  I could see hills off in the distance and blood-red   
   clouds as the sun set in that lonely place.  And then it was very   
   dark.  And I was alone like I had never been alone before.  No cars   
   drove by at all.   
      
   In that special place I began to understand that I could actually die   
   out there.  And I also sensed, in spite of my ignorance of spiritual   
   things, that I was not ready to meet God, not ready for whatever would   
   come after I died.  I understood for the first time that my church   
   membership meant nothing at all, spiritually speaking.   
      
   Some time after that day, maybe a year or so, I did come across   
   another Christian who wanted to talk to me about spiritual things.  To   
   be more specific, he wanted to talk to me about Jesus Christ.  But he   
   didn't fall into the old trap of asking me if I knew Jesus.  And when   
   I still told him about my membership at Timbergrove Baptist Church, he   
   didn't even let it slow him down.  He just said something like,   
   "That's really good." and went right on talking, telling me what Jesus   
   had done for him.   
      
   And that was the first time I remember being spiritually hungry.  At   
   the moment I didn't really see it as anything spiritual, since I knew   
   nothing about real spirituality, anyway.  But I did know that I wanted   
   what this guy had been given by God.  I wanted a new life.  I wanted   
   to have something good and real and meaningful in my life.   
      
   I was 17 at the time.  Once again I was hitch-hiking.  I'd been trying   
   to get out of Houston for most of the day.  I had no place to go, but   
   no reason to stay, either.  My life had been really bad for a long   
   time, and it was getting worse every day.  I really didn't want to   
   hear about God and Jesus when this young evangelist started talking,   
   but I really needed the ride.   
      
   God spoke to me that night.  The fellow who had given me a ride   
   invited me to meet some other friends of his.  I had nothing else to   
   do, so I went and I met some other guys and girls.  They were not much   
   older than I was.   
      
   They were all going to college.  It was a Bible college.  They all   
   knew Jesus.   
      
   They had a lot more than just church membership happening in their   
   lives.  They really had the Presence and the power of Jesus Christ   
   working in them and through them.  I could tell that they had   
   something I had never known, never had.  And as they told me about the   
   things Jesus was doing, and what He had already done for them and for   
   others, I knew that I really wanted what they had.   
      
   God was speaking to my heart, to my mind, my very soul, through the   
   young people I talked with that night.  And at some point, in the   
   middle of the night, I got down on my knees and prayed to God, turning   
   everything that I was, and all that I had over to Jesus Christ.   
      
   Everything in my life changed, then.  I stopped talking about church   
   membership.  I stopped telling people that I was a Baptist. I began   
   sharing Jesus with them, instead.  I began thinking in terms of the   
   hour that I had been born-again by faith in Jesus Christ.  For the   
   first time in my life I had a real and living relationship with God.   
      
   I remember that I started reading the Bible.  I read it all the time   
   and carried it with me wherever I went.  Everyone who had known me   
   before was shocked to see a Bible in my hands.   
      
   Obviously in those first days and weeks I had little idea of all that   
   had happened to me.  I just knew that I had a new life.   
      
   I had very little understanding of what the church was, in any   
   theological sense.  I knew next to nothing about the Bible, about   
   temptation, about struggles with faith and unbelief.  But as time went   
   on, I learned a lot more about all those things, and much more.   
      
   Ultimately, it matters very little what kind of church a person   
   belongs to, as long as it is a true Christian church.  But even   
   membership in the very best of the very best churches will not get   
   anyone into heaven or make them a real Christian believer.  As Jesus   
   said, you must be born again.   
      
   Some churches are filled with rituals, like Catholic churches or the   
   Eastern Orthodox.  Some churches are filled with Bible-toting   
   Baptists, or tongues-speaking Pentecostals.  Some are rigid in   
   traditions and sticklers for rules.  Some are so wishy-washy, they   
   seem to believe that anything goes.   
      
   Lots of diversity, lots of arguments about who is and who is not a   
   "real" Christian.  And so many real Christians.   
      
   To this day, I still am not a Baptist.  But I do thank God for the   
   generations of Baptists who've stood rigidly and unwavering for   
   Scriptural truth.  I also thank God for Pentecostals and for other   
      
   [continued in next message]   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)