Greg

"what I truly received was a very deep and very real sense of belonging."

I grew up in the suburbs in Maryland not more than an hour from GCC.  A loving family has surrounded me since the day I entered this world.  For as long as I’ve known them, my parents have been committed followers of Jesus.  In many ways their story is a part of my own, but we don’t have time to go that far back.  I grew up going to church every Sunday morning and every Sunday night, even most Wednesday nights.  If we missed church for some reason we’d have our own Bible study at home.  I grew up going to Sunday school, coloring pictures of Jesus calming the storm, and seeing the life of Jesus play out on flannel graph boards.  The reality of a God I could not see, who created the world, and Jesus, the compassionate loving Son of God, is all I’ve ever known.  Certainly my understanding was simple, but there is not a moment in my life that I can point to that I recall having first believed in the truth of God and Jesus Christ as the Son of God. 

 There was one spring when I was 12 years old that I had a baseball game to play on a Wednesday night.  If I remember it correctly, it was a great game.  We were up by one or two; I was pitching in the last inning. I think there were two guys on base (one of them on third.) I came to a full count; I pitched a change up, which is an incredibly slow pitch. Mine in particular was horrendous, but the batter got so excited he practically threw his bat to reach for it, but missed.  I think the ball practically rolled to the catcher, he tagged the batter and the game was over.  Well, that night, because we missed church for my game, we had a Bible study at home.  That night, during our discussion, I told my parents that I believed in Jesus and, you know, I’m not sure what else.  I’m not sure how I put it into words.  I knew I needed to make some kind of commitment.  I had some general understanding that even though I won the game, I was not perfect. I sinned (I was not always living the way God wanted me to) and that sin separated me from God.  I needed forgiveness and that forgiveness was available through faith in Jesus.  I guess this was a significant moment for me because I shared with others (at this moment with others who were close to me) where I stood.  Although I didn’t have it all figured out, I understood that I needed Jesus.  After praying together, my dad asked me a question,  “Do you want to be baptized?”  I knew what being baptized meant – In our church it meant that I would have to help serve communion during the services or worse yet, I might have to pray out loud during the services.  But despite these fears, I also knew that it meant more than that.  Forgiveness of my sins was available because Jesus died on the cross – paying the penalty for us.  And then he rose up and came back to life.  Baptism is kind of like a ritual or physical act that we do that portrays our entering into the story.  It’s this amazing event that helps us to understand we are to do more than just hear and believe the story of Jesus, but actively enter into it.  The apostle Paul communicates this to his letter to the Romans. 

 Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. (Romans 6:3-4)

 Just as Jesus died and was buried, we are buried in the water and then like Jesus we are raised up.  And in baptism there is also this picture of being washed clean of our sins, entering into a new life with God.  Perhaps the practice of baptism is something that we do not emphasize enough around here – not just because of Jesus’ example of being baptized or the commands in scriptures for Jesus’ followers to be baptized, but it is a powerful experience that reminds us that we are to enter into and become a part of the story of Jesus in this world.

 So anyhow, I answered my Dad, “Yes.”  Then he asked, do you want to be baptized tonight? (It was already around 9:30 on a Wednesday night) I said OK.  My dad made one phone call and we all jumped in the car together.  This was also fulfilling the scriptures because we were “all in one accord.” Ha. It was about a half-hour drive to the church, but when we arrived, there were already about five or six families there.  Everyone was waiting with what seemed to be an air of excitement.  I spoke with the pastor about what I had been thinking and the decision I had made.  He asked me to share this with the rest of the group and I made what would be called “a public confession.”  Then my father and I went back and put on some white robes and walked down into the pool.  Then before these fifteen to twenty people I was baptized by my father.  He asked me if I believed that Jesus was the Son of God.  I answered, “Yes.”

Then he said, “I baptize you in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.”  Then he leaned me back and I was immersed in the water.  One thing I love about the experience of this form of baptism is that by no strength of my own, I was lifted up out of the water.  There your experience mirrors the spiritual truth of being raised to new life – not by your strength, but that of Christ who himself was, as Paul said, raised to new life.  A passage of scripture that was emphasized in my church growing up is from Acts chapter 2 on the day of Pentecost.  Acts is kind of the sequel to Luke’s gospel account of Jesus as he shares the story of the disciples going and sharing the good news of Jesus.  Early on, Peter is speaking to the crowds, telling them the story of Jesus.  When they hear and believe they ask, “What shall we do?”

 Peter responds, “Repent and be baptized for the forgiveness of your sins.  And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit.  The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off-for all whom the Lord our God will call.”

 So, knowing this passage, I wondered if I was going to feel different now that I had the gift of the Holy Spirit?  Would I suddenly be a new guy all around or would I hear voices?  Well, I’ll be honest, I didn’t feel very different, but what I did experience – at least what I remember most - did surprise me.  When I walked out of the dressing room, I saw everyone standing together in a large circle holding hands.  My father and I walked over to the group and took hold of the hands of the people on either side of us.  I was welcomed into a new larger family, as everyone sang a hymn together accapella.  Although I was anticipating some kind of divine spiritual experience, what I truly received was a very deep and very real sense of belonging.  This is something that I had always felt in some respects, growing up in the same church, but for me there was something new about this experience.  I found among these people a sense of belonging that has carried through the rest of my life.  Even with all of the studying and spiritual growth that I have enjoyed, it is that sense of community I have enjoyed among others that have trusted Jesus with their lives that truly amazes me.  I have experienced it in my home church, at my college church, with others in my architecture classes, with friends, in my family, and even with Christians in Russia, and nearly everywhere I’ve traveled.  But let me also comment: perhaps that sense of belonging is not merely expected to be a consequence of a commitment to Christ, but perhaps for many among us it is the experience of belonging and community that will lead them to a commitment to Christ.

 I don’t know that my life was dramatically different immediately following my baptism.  I continued to be involved in church and my youth group (and sports).  In my junior year of high school I was invited to attend a Youth Advance seminar.  It was basically a retreat for youth leadership.  Now, mind you, I was a very shy person most of the time.  At least that’s how I saw myself.  I was never eager to talk with someone I didn’t know. I feared standing up and speaking in public.  I rarely raised my hand in class and I avoided crowds.  Socially I was usually the sidekick.  I was always Ken’s little brother in school or the quiet friend of the cool guy.  In elementary school it was Derek.  In middle school it was Mark.  In high school it was Preston.  But I experienced something new on this weekend retreat. 

Those two days were full of different lessons and structured activities intended to teach a point.  One of the first ones was this game where we all sat in a circle.  The leader chose one of the smallest people in the room and asked us to try to pass the person around the circle in the air.  We did it with ease.  Then the leader chose someone larger and it was a bit more challenging.  He kept this up and each time we had to change our technique to successfully get the person around.  Finally he selected one of the retreat staff – he was huge, maybe 250 lbs.  We had people standing facing each other, trying to lock hands and pass him around the circle, but no one could get their hands under him to get enough leverage to keep him up to move him at all.  Standing on the other side of the circle, I told my one friend who had come with me from my church that someone need to get down on all fours beneath him to offer support where it was lacking.  She slapped me on the back and said, “Go do it.”  So I took the initiative and cried out, “Um, hey you guys should get under him. Really.  Just under there.  No, on all fours”  Finally exasperated and encouraged by my friend, I ran over.  They lifted him up and I crawled underneath him, with his back on mine.  I struggled, crawling on my hands and knees around the circle as the rest of the group added their part and passed him around the circle.  We had done it. We went back to our seats and the leader talked about what can be accomplished when we work together, but then he commented, “but my hero was Greg, because he was willing to sacrifice himself to meet the needs of the group.  This is a picture of what Christ-like leadership is.”  I don’t know if I ever thought of myself as Christ-like.  Throughout the weekend I felt my confidence growing and found myself in roles I never would have imagined.  I was doing things I would never have accomplished by my own strength, meanwhile learning that Christ-like leadership meant sacrificing and serving others. 

 Over those couple of days, the primary leader for the seminar became someone I highly respected as one of the most compassionate and godly people I knew.  As we gathered for our last activity I noticed that in the center of our circle of chairs there was a large bowl of water and a towel.  We sat down, and John Paul shared the story of Jesus washing the disciples feet.  He then shared that he would like all of us to have the opportunity to wash the feet of someone who has meant a lot to us over this weekend, someone, perhaps, in whom you see Jesus.  He said he would begin and then that person would wash someone else and so on.  When he finished speaking, he walked over to me, took off my shoes, and began to wash my feet.  I closed my eyes, fighting back tears.  I could not help but imagine what it must have been like for Jesus’ disciples when he washed their feet.  It was so humbling.  I felt like Peter – “no! If anything, I should be washing your feet.”

 Through this weekend I was convinced of the presence and power of the Holy Spirit in us to transform us to be and to do so much more than we could do on our own. He helps us to become like Christ. In a Sunday evening service I was asked to give a report on the retreat.  Without reservation, I told the people of my church that I felt the Holy Spirit guiding me throughout the weekend.  I was convinced that Jesus' last words at the end of the gospel of Matthew were true: “Surely I am with you always to the very end of the age.” My understanding of Jesus’ presence with us through the Holy Spirit still has a long way to go, but I would certainly, to this day, attest to this reality.  I have seen and experienced much that goes beyond coincidence and beyond what I could accomplish on my own.  I believe that Jesus is with us and we can learn to listen to and follow the guidance of his Spirit that accompanies all who follow him. 

 Well, my story continues in a little town called Blacksburg, Virginia - Home of the Virginia Tech Hokies.  Surely with such a solid Christian upbringing, I took every opportunity to attend church services after I got to school.  Not so much.  My freshman and sophomore years of college I was lucky to attend once or twice a month. I never really made much of an attempt to go deeper in my relationships with the people there. All I did was sit in the pew for services, then leave.  I had other interests brewing.  I had been sucked into the school of architecture and spent most of my time with other students in the design studio.  I had football games and parties to go to (although I never really got into drinking, it just didn’t float my boat.) But, there were definitely fun people to meet and hang out with.  And of coarse there was one person in particular. 

Molly never knew the “shy Greg” I mentioned earlier.  To this day she refuses to believe I ever was shy in my life.  On the first day of classes, thanks to a bit of research, I called out to Molly by name and introduced myself.  Thus began a new chapter in the story of my life… or maybe I should say a new series of chapters.  Over the first couple of years, we dated and didn’t date and dated again… and by the spring of my sophomore year we were dating exclusively.  She wasn’t my girlfriend, mind you.  I know that for a fact because one day we were in the car and I said, “So are you my girlfriend?”  And she responded, “No.”  My social life had changed significantly from my freshman year to my sophomore year.  During my freshman year there was a big crowd of friends that I hung out with.  We did everything together.  But during my sophomore year that crowd started splitting up. Some started joining different fraternities and sororities. Others found serious boyfriends or girlfriends.  Some became absorbed in their work.  I must admit that Molly had become my primary focus.  I was very interested in her and had invested a lot to try to make that relationship work, although I knew that it wasn’t going great.  I was working hard to impress, to win her over.  It was awkward being in the same classes.  If she walked by with a friend and didn’t stop to talk or say, “hi,” I would wonder, “what did that mean?”  Were we supposed to sit together?  If I said, “hi” should I wave with the right hand or the left?  I mean I had it bad.  At the end of the spring semester she invited me to her sorority formals and we had a good time. (At least I thought so.)  If nothing else, I thought I looked pretty good in a tuxedo.  So as the semester came to an end I had high expectations.  I traveled home and immediately began work on a hand drawn portrait of the two of us together – working from a photograph I had of us at formals.  A week or two later we had our first date of the summer.  It was about an hour drive to her house, and the portrait was in the car ready to go.  I figured that I’d cap off the date by giving her the portrait when we got back to her house afterwards.

Well, after dinner, we hung out outside at the Reston Town Center.  There she gave me the, “we have to talk…” line.  She proceeded to tell me how she felt about the relationship and then shared those famous words many have heard me quote before “You’ll never be more than just a big brother to me.”  I was devastated.  At the end of the night I knew that if I gave her the portrait it would probably make her feel bad so… I gave it to her.  But it didn’t relieve my pain.

Have you ever felt rejection like that?  It stays in the pit of your stomach, sometimes for months.  That experience brought out all my loneliness, all of my longing for acceptance and belonging, all my need to feel good about who I was and how I looked.

Many of us have those needs and longings.  We want to know we’re accepted for who we are, we don’t want to have to jump through all those hoops, we want someone to simply think we’re special and attractive.  We want to feel at home with ourselves and at least a few other people.

Some of us grew up in families that fell apart.  Some of us grew up in families that never really grew together.  It was hard to express affection, or to ask for what we needed, or trust that we were known and loved for who we were.  Maybe it was that way for you, maybe in some ways you’re dealing with it now.

We all respond in different ways to this kind of loneliness.  Some of us try to be the life of the party.  Some of us retreat inside of our own protective shell, throwing up walls between ourselves and others.  Maybe we find ourselves doing things we aren’t proud of in order to gain acceptance.  We find ourselves in a struggle to find our identity, belonging and love.  My struggle was more than just dealing with rejection from a girl I had the hots for.  The words kept ringing in my ears… “never more than just a big brother.”  Would this always be my fate?  Would my hopes - of someday being a husband and a father and a little league coach and telling all of my “back when I was your age” stories to my grand kids - be out of reach?  Would I always be alone?

In this very real, both emotionally and physically painful experience, I remembered that I had somewhere to turn.  In those first couple years of college I had lost sight of what should be at the center of my life – Jesus Christ.  In response to this realization, I poured myself into the scriptures, trying to find every word that communicated God’s love for me.  I prayed and sang my heart out to God.  Jesus Christ became my first love, I decided that He would come first in my life and I would trust him to carry me through.  Let me tell you that I have been far from perfect in this commitment, but the rest of the story from then on has been amazing. 

I actually fell in love with reading my Bible. I’d rush home from classes just looking forward to spending time with Jesus through his word.  I’d spend hours wandering around campus at night praying to God.  I became involved in my church at school, and attended retreats.  But I did not break ties with other friends.  I cared for them too much.  I lead a Bible study with my roommates and other college friends.  All of them have remained close friends.  Not one of them committed their lives to Jesus while I was in school, but the year after I graduated, got calls from them or received news that 3 friends I had cared for chose to be baptized and follow Jesus.  All of my relationships changed for the better.  Molly was not out of the picture, but we approached our relationship in a whole new way.  Jesus and His love for us would be our model for our love for each other.  Everything was not always hunki dori, but even in times of distress, I have felt comfort from the scriptures, friends, and the Holy Spirit within me.

After graduating and a couple of years in engineering, I knew that was not the career where my passion lied.  Not really knowing what we were getting into, Molly and I sought out an opportunity to serve in the church we were attending.  We volunteered to teach a college Sunday school class and loved it.  Feeling that this was the direction God was leading me, I began to take classes at a local seminary during the evenings.  Then through a series of events and relationships that I believe only God could have arranged, we became involved in planting a new church in Georgetown.  I must admit that the initial team included a couple of Lawyers, a Seminary President, a couple who had been overseas missionaries for decades, a worship leader, who had already produced his own album, and a woman who had worked in ministry for more than 30 years.  Then there was Molly and I – a young couple, barely out of college with 2 years of Sunday school teaching experience under our belts.  What were we doing here?

I have learned once again (as I did on that retreat years ago) that leadership, as Jesus demonstrated, is not about status or pedigree, but a willingness to sacrifice, to serve and to love.  I am learning to trust that Jesus is with us, teaching us and empowering us as we follow him as his disciples.