What Does it Mean to be Born Again?

What a shame it was that I had never heard of being born again until I was thirteen. My only church experience was in Lutheran and Anglican congregations. Consequently, I never knew that Christ's atonement for sin was something I should care about.

In the providence of God, Sharon blacklock asked my sister Diane if she would attend her mom's vacation Bible school which she would conduct in her basement.

I felt reluctant at first. The previous year, I was thrown out of the Lutheran VBS for not being able to read the Bible. Nobody provided me with a strong magnifying glass and I had no idea where First Kings something-or-other was. So I felt reluctant to experience that again. When Diane insisted I go, I told myself I could always walk home if they were mean to me.

I was pleasantly surprised at the fun and games we had in Mrs. Blacklock's home. We sang songs and heard stories from the Bible. And as in past years at the Lutheran church, we had plenty of Kool-Aid and cookies.

Our teacher also gave us something of much greater worth that week. She read to us the Bible's most quoted verse: John 3:16. The Bible in Basic English renders it this way. "For God had such love for the world that he gave his only Son, so that whoever has faith in him may not come to destruction but have eternal life."

I felt puzzled. Nobody had told me that before. Was this really true? I pondered that until Friday, the last day of the class.

I decided it must be right if the Bible said so and I had nothing to lose. Then I confessed to Jesus that I was a sinner and asked him into my life. None of the ramifications of that decision were apparent to me then but I came to realize that I had placed the running of my life in his nail-scarred hands.

But Mrs. Blacklock neglected to follow up with me. Neither did I get my own copy of the Bible like most VBS kids habitually receive. As a result, I listened to radio preachers and became a fan of The World Tomorrow. Those errant doctrines taught on that show primed me for the cultic church I joined.

I detailed all the wicked things the house church elders did and how I eventually was deprogrammed by good Bible teaching in  my memoir, How I Was Razed. Contact me if you wish to buy this paperback testimony of God's awesome grace.

On Saturday, I'll post about another person's meaningful summer. Unfortunately the man never was born again.

Something far better than cookies and Kool-Aid

Monday, August 3, will mark a milestone in my life. Forty years ago, I made a decision that profoundly changed me. From my Deliverance From Jericho (Six Years in a Blind School) memoir, here is the story of how I started on a spiritual journey that continues to this day. My hope is that you'll follow the same path that I did back then.

"Sharon's mom is having a Vacation Bible School in her basement. She wants me to invite everybody I know. Would you like to come?" Diane invited.

At first I felt ambivalent, remembering what happened the previous summer. "I suppose so," I said after thinking it over, "I can always go home if I don't like it."

Diane and I attended all five days of this home-based Vacation Bible School. I came expecting to enjoy Kool-Aid, cookies, and stories. To my amazement, I received a much more valuable truth in the curriculum.

Once we were settled down, Mrs. Blacklock began her lesson. "Did you know that you can have a personal relationship with Jesus?" she asked. As I had never heard that doctrine before, I listened all the more intently.

"The Bible says that we are all sinners and that nobody is good enough to go to heaven," she continued. "Going to church is nice but it won't save you on Judgment Day. Only believing in Jesus Christ will save you from going to hell."

I felt shocked. Could this honestly be true? No one told me about that before. I thought only wicked people went to hell.

"If you give your life to Jesus, he will come into you and live in your heart." This sounded impossible too. Jesus was up in heaven and God appeared uninvolved with his creation.

As she outlined how Christ died to pay for our sins and that we could be forgiven because he took our punishment, my heart stirred within me. Could this actually be true?

Then Mrs. Blacklock told the story of Nicodemus and how he was an outstanding religious teacher in Israel. Even with all his education and status, he had no understanding of what it meant to be born again. Suddenly, I realized the meaning of what Jesus said.

A few years previously, a Christian clown visited Jericho and performed magic tricks in the boys' Playroom. Along with the usual vanishing objects and interlocking hoops, this man told us how Nicodemus met Christ late one night. It was merely one of many Bible stories to me then. Now I realized that it applied to me as well.

I pondered what Mrs. Blacklock taught us all during the week. As at previous Vacation Bible Schools, I coloured, memorized Bible verses, and listened to Bible stories. Mrs. Blacklock handed out Gos-pills for correct answers. They were actually jelly beans but I savoured the play on words. Mrs. Blacklock also pretended they were vitamins as she handed them out and urged us to, "Vite 'em in to Sunday School." She then told us about her church and the fun we would have while attending it.

On Friday, Mrs. Blacklock asked us a life-changing question. "Would you like to invite Christ into your heart and accept him as your saviour?" Though I could think of no serious sins of which I was guilty, except for stealing the glass lumps, I decided I had nothing to lose. I raised my hand and said yes. Our teacher led us in the sinner's prayer and then she welcomed us to the family of Christ. Though I felt nothing dramatic happen, joy and a sense that God was pleased with me filled my heart.

I ran all the way home, a distance of a few blocks, after the school ended. "I've been born again!" I exclaimed to the family as I rushed through the front door. They all stared at me, saying nothing. Doubtless, Mom and my sisters thought I had lost my mind. I felt let down because I thought they would understand this important life-transforming decision I had made. Either nobody told me or I failed to understand that not everybody would comprehend my spiritual transformation.