During Christmas break at the end 1971, our church high school youth
group attended a Lutheran Youth Congress at a hotel located just outside of
Washington, D.C. The weather was
unusually warm that winter. One of the
enticements to attend was the promise of a rink for ice skating, but all we got
was a slushy mess. The temperature
during those two days topped 70 degrees.
My brother and I were both in high school at the time. He was a 14 year old freshman and I was a 16
year old junior. We did our best to
avoid each other, so he went his way and I went mine, but we both remember the
event, or parts of it, very well.
First, I remember trying very hard to catch the attention of a certain
girl in our group. We were already
friends and saw each other at church multiple times during the course of a
week. The problem was that it was always
in the context of worship or youth group.
This event provided the opportunity for me to make my move. What would it be? How might I impress her? I didn’t have a plan.
I also remember that the keynote speaker for the event was Nicky Cruz,
who had been the subject of David Wilkerson’s 1962 book, The Cross and the
Switchblade. The story had been released
as a movie with the same title in 1970, so it was fresh in our minds. Pat Boone played the role of evangelist
Wilkerson and Erik Estrada played Cruz.
Nicky Cruz told us his compelling story. He had been a gang member in New York
City. His life was on a violent path. He met up with Wilkerson, whose
preaching of an unconditionally loving Jesus transformed Cruz’s life.
He told his story to a ballroom full of Lutheran teens who sat in
silence with rapt attention. His words
were meant to tug at every emotional string of a hormonal teenager’s
fabric. Girls were in tears. Boys appeared stoic while sniffing their
noses. I was sitting right next to the
girl I hoped would be my first real girlfriend.
I passed her a Kleenex. That was
surely worth a point in my favor.
Then, before I could even see it coming, there was an awkward moment
that presented a golden opportunity. The
altar call.
I couldn’t believe it. An altar
call for hundreds of us Lutheran kids. I
looked down the row of seats for my brother.
His horrified look matched my own.
Where was our pastor? What were
we supposed to do? We had been well
schooled in our Lutheran upbringing to know that no decision on our part was
necessary. The decision had been made by
Christ when we were claimed as children of God in baptism.
I had a non-Lutheran high school friend who was fond of reminding me,
as often as he could as a part of his Christian calling, that I would spend
eternity in hell because I had never been saved. I had never accepted Jesus. He just didn’t buy that Jesus had already
accepted me.
A few years later, the author of some devotional material provided a
response that would have come in handy.
She said when someone asked her if she had accepted Jesus as her
personal Lord and Savior, she would respond by asking that person if she had
accepted her mother. Her point was that
you cannot accept your mother. She is
simply your mother. The same is true of
Jesus. Jesus is Lord and Savior. Accept it or not.
Nicky Cruz called upon all of us who wanted to give our lives to Jesus
to stand. We were to take our time so we
made a good decision. Emotionally
wrought young people across the room began to stand. I didn’t.
Jesus and I were already in a good relationship. But then, she stood. She, whose affection and attention I sought,
stood up. What was I to do? If I didn’t stand, she would think less of me
no matter how I tried to explain. If I
did stand, well, in the end, what difference would it really make? In a sense, I had recommitted myself to
Christ at my confirmation. I knew we
renewed our relationship with Jesus every morning. What would it hurt? It was my golden opportunity to impress her
and impress her mightily. I stood. We were asked to repeat a prayer that I don’t remember. A great mumbling murmur swept the room.
My relationship with Jesus has continued now for a long time. It began the day I was baptized and it continues to grow. It is a personal faith lived out in the
community of believers. As for that
youth event now so long ago, I sum it up this way. I gave my life to Jesus, but I didn’t get the
girl.
