In Christ the King

The morning that I became a believer, I woke up in a condition and mindset that was pretty open to any possibility regarding what the truth might be regarding the source of power and control that had created and continued to manage the universe. I had been in that condition for a while. I was 22, and since I had been 16, I had been convinced by the behavior and attitudes of most of the church members I knew that the idea that Jesus was real was very unlikely. I deduced from the stories they had shared with me about the God of the Old Testament that if He had been real, He would have smitten them already.

I was being drawn, though, as Paul described to the congregations in Rome, by the revelation of God’s power. Having turned from the religion of Jesus, I sought the Power that ran the universal show through several versions of witchcraft, through meditation, and just plain trying to figure it out. That morning, I was struck by the very stark realization that I was in no position of ability or information to figure it out. I was stuck outside the house in bad weather, and inside the house is where there was knowledge of the present and the future that was totally out of my reach.

I was sitting in a pew of a United Methodist congregation that was led by a Universalist, who believed that everyone is “saved.” I had been invited to the meeting by a couple of men who came to my home asking for my annual financial pledge to the congregation, which I had arbitrarily joined at the age of 12. I signed the paper they offered me, pledging $5 for the next year, and when I handed it back to them, they invited me to come to the Sunday meeting that weekend. Being quite high and slightly annoyed, hoping my agreement would cause them to run along, I agreed. For some (Holy Spirit–provoked) strange reason, I kept the promise.

I was a bit in distress, after having chosen a seat that was pretty far from any other people and opening the paper with the printed order of events listed, to discover that one of the events was what they called a “service of communion.” That meant that row by row, ushers would invite people to line up and go down to a kneeling rail to receive a chip of bread made of rice paper and a thimble of grape juice. I decided to stay seated, not wanting the Power Who ran the universe to count such foolishness against me. I then considered that I might have to answer to someone on the way out of the meeting regarding my non-participation. While considering what I would say, it occurred to me that I might want to say something to the Power about why I was even in the meeting. Then, it occurred to me that the Power of the universe really might be the God of this religion. What would I say to Him about not participating?

The more I attempted to weigh out the possibilities, the more I became slowly convinced that the answers were absolutely out of my reach, mentally, spiritually, informationally, and experientially. I then got the idea that I should ask the Power for help. “Power of the universe, what should I do?” No response. “Power of the universe, if I avoid this ritual, will I miss anything? Will I cause myself a problem?” No response. I don’t remember all the ways I thought to rephrase the desperate questions, but finally, while in an utterly undone condition, I asked, “God of this church, are You the Power of the universe that I am seeking?” In an instant, my utter undone-ness was replaced with a sense of peace and satisfaction that I had never experienced, when I somehow “heard” the answer, “I AM.”

My response was to completely surrender my complete being: my possessions, my future, even things that I might find later, to this One Who was inside the house I had found myself locked out of in the storm. I did not know at the time that His answer to me was the answer that had satisfied Moses one day at a bush of fire. When I discovered that, it further sealed my surrender by confirming my experience.

The first thing I got to do after completely surrendering to Him was to participate in a “service of communion,” which was saturated with prayers written by John Wesley. The prayers included statements like, “We acknowledge and bewail our many sins and wickedness… Have mercy upon us and forgive us all that is past… grant that we may ever hereafter serve and please Thee in newness of life… here we offer and present unto Thee, O Lord, ourselves, our souls and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy, and lively sacrifice unto Thee… grant that we may grow in the likeness of Thy Son Jesus Christ, that we may evermore dwell in Him, and He in us…” I had mumbled through all the ritual many times previously, but that day, I prayed all of them.

So: I surrendered to Him as a “King” before I met Him as a “Savior,” and then surrendered to Him in that capacity, too. That order of encounter and response has become important to me as I realize how much He is giving me of opportunity to bring light to the truths He caused to be in the Book about the Kingdom. I am also convinced that every believer needs to make both of those commitments, in whatever order it happens to be in their lives. I am also convinced that both commitments will be tested: one in the Book of Life, and the other in the books of our lives.