Numbers don’t lie: Between 300-500 people per day check out my blog. That shocks me – – but that is what the Weebly home page tells me. So I wonder, “Who would even want to read what I have to say?” As a Marketing graduate, I was taught the first step to knowledge is to know your customer. I need to figure out my demographics, so I must ask “Who is my audience?” I believe there are three groups of people that generally read my posts:

(1) I think one-third of the readers are loyal members from my church. I am sure there are about 70-100 KCBC’rs who feel guilted into reading my blog simply for the fact they have been conditioned to “Support the Pastor at all Costs.” There is that voice of loyal duty compelling them “you must read what the pastor writes, for he is the Lord’s servant sent to bless you.” There is much truth in that; but you know, sometimes guilt is the pastor’s best friend – – I am not sure where I would be without it?

(2) I think there is another third that sits in the shadows and read what I write so they can find fodder to take me down, or at least find flaws to prove that a pastor is just as wrong and muddle-headed as the rest of us. “Can you believe what that guy wrote, and he calls himself a man of the cloth?” Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa!

(3) The final group is the curious third. These are the friends and acquaintances who once knew me, but not as the man I am now. They wonder “What happened to him? He used to be cool, a Tom Cruise bartender wannabe, and a powerful force on the Rugby Pitch, now look at him! He is one of those wild-eyed fire-breathers standing on street corners telling people they will burn in the fires of hell if they don’t ‘Repent’!” So they secretly read because they want to know, did he go insane?

The truth is I have finally found my sanity, and it is in a man named Jesus. And for the next five weeks, I am going to appeal to all three groups in a short five-part series I am entitling “Why?” I think this series will help all three groups get to know me better, it will offer more fodder to those who want to see me as a flawed human and to the last group because I want them to know that Jesus is really God, who came to earth, and he is coming again – and I actually know Him!

I got the idea of this series two days ago when I was at a bookstore and I saw a John Stott book entitled, “Why I am a Christian?” It is a short but simple book that explains the heart of how one man came face to face with the living God. I also have been studying a portion of scripture this week, Titus 2:15-3:7, that first opened a window to my soul as I began my search as a young confused man looking for meaning in a world gone mad. 

Which brings me to my first post in the series. . .

Why? Reason One: Because Scripture Alone Told Me  the Unvarnished Truth About Myself

A quick synopsis of my life before I met the Lord can be summed up in the phrase “I was the ideal suburban kid.” I was raised in the greatest town ever to grow up in, Bay Village, Ohio. It had everything a growing boy wanted in a childhood; A seasonal pool pass all summer, a dark and mysterious Great Lake across the street to explore (it is there where I would throw sticks to my dog and skip shale rocks for hours), I had many friends with money and toys, a family that loved and even liked me, some degree of athletic success and of course all-American good looks. If you don’t believe me, just ask my sisters. They were pretty protective of me, especially if I liked someone – – my sister Stephanie who was in the same grade as I, knew how to keep the girls away from me that she didn’t like. Spraying water at them from the sprinkler hose comes to mind. My sisters could be pretty fierce (that is a politically correct way of saying ‘mean, mean, mean’)  as they looked out for their dear, sweet baby brother! 

After High School, I attended a private Roman Catholic college where I studied Marketing and Communications receiving a BS degree in Business Administration. I was following my dad’s footsteps by going to his Alma Mater and pursuing his choice of occupation, sales. The school I went to was known to be nationally as “A Top Ten Party School.” And party I did. Well, when you play rugby and they have beer kegs on the sidelines while you play, you have no other choice but to join in. I think the alcohol was part medicinal as well…after you get your head bashed in, a few beers have a way of taking off the sting.

When I graduated, not only did I not know what to do with my life, but my partying ways continued. I didn’t think I had a drinking problem, but I sure did like beer. So after work in downtown Chicago, every weekend I would visit Rush and Division street with my buddies. It was at this time that God first started provoking me. And the haunting question that troubled my soul was simply this, “Why Chris, are you on the earth? Simply to make money and party? What a waste!” As I would ride the early morning train to work I couldn’t shake the sensation I was made for more than this. It was also at this time I entered a severe state of depression, working downtown in cold-call sales made me miserable. I would sit at coffee shops alone, watching crowds of successful business people, lawyers, salesmen, accountants, all making it big and while I was this measly, fresh-faced sales stooge barely scraping by.

There was only one thing to do, drink more. I was in pretty bad shape, but I was from Bay Village, I was a bright man with a college degree, I could handle it, right? Wrong, God was bearing down on me hard, in three areas of my life:

(1) MY IGNORANCE: I was a mindless fool, following the currents of culture, laughing at what everyone else was laughing at, frequenting the same smelly bars that everyone else was congregating at, and performing a job because I thought I was supposed to. I was being led like a beef cow to and from the barn to the field, chewing grass, and doing nothing more than existing. The first time I realized this was when I went to a Tom Petty concert with my friends in Cleveland, Ohio. We got to the venue on time and waited for the main act, the skinny sallow-faced singer wearing a black top hat. When he arrived he said something that caused the crowd to erupt in wild cheering and high fiving. I didn’t hear what he said so I turned to my friend to ask him why everyone was going wild. He said, “Tom Petty said, ‘Hello Cleveland!’, he mentioned Cleveland man, he knows us!” I wondered to myself, “Huh? A crowd is going crazy because a performer knows what city he is in? That seems kind of…well…like a zombified brainwashed response?” I don’t know how to say it, but I felt like I was smarter than this. If Tom Petty would say, “Hey, everyone from Cleveland, here is some garbage, eat it!” they probably would because Tom Petty, the hero, said the word ‘Cleveland.”  It was a weird moment, but I felt like I had to get off this mindless zombie train.

(2) MY FOOLISHNESS: It was also at this time that I realized a lot of my friends enjoyed folly for folly’s sake. I can remember I had one friend that would go to the bar to fight. One night he purposely got into an argument with a skinny kid just so he could pummel him, and I did nothing. On another night he was attacked by a large guy and gave him a double-fishhook to his face which split the man’s lips down the center and an ambulance needed to come. Whisking my friend out of the bar so he wouldn’t get arrested, he laughed what he did off with joyful glee saying, “Did you see what I did to that guy?” I said nothing. I said nothing…to my ever living shame, I said nothing!

(3) MY ANGER: I don’t know how to say this, but deep in my chest was a reservoir of anger I couldn’t quench. I felt like the whole world was against me. It was also at this time I put out 50 job applications for different advertising positions in Chicago getting turned down by them all. I would cynically attribute this to my race and gender, I would say to myself, “Our society hates white males and that is why I am not getting one good look!” I was going to actually write a book titled, “Meanderings of an Angry White Guy,” but I decided not to because I was also lazy. I would rather stew on the couch watching Rambo than get up and do something. Anger has a way of making you useless.

So my brother convinced me to look to the Bible for answers. I laughed at him, I actually laughed. But for some reason, I began to read it. Three passages hit me like a ton of bricks, just listen to them in context:

TITUS 3:3-5 – “At one time we too were foolish, disobedient, deceived and enslaved by all kinds of passions and pleasures. We lived in malice and envy, being hated and hating one another. But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy.” Foolish, deceived and hating. Wow, that was me, that was me!!

1 PETER 4:2-5 – “As a result, they do not live the rest of their earthly lives for evil human desires, but rather for the will of God. For you have spent enough time in the past doing what pagans choose to do—living in debauchery, lust, drunkenness, orgies, carousing and detestable idolatry. They are surprised that you do not join them in their reckless, wild living, and they heap abuse on you. But they will have to give account to him who is ready to judge the living and the dead.” Did you read that? That was my life down to the very small detail, “they are surprised you do not join them.” That is all my friends wanted, someone to join them. Someone to buy another round. Someone to get mad at the world with. We were zombies eating the spoiled meat of sinful pleasure.

REVELATION 3:16 – “So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.” Seriously? Would God do that? Would God judge a nice kid from Bay Village like that? Because I was the epitome of luke-warm. Not having the guts to confront my foolish friends, laughing at dumb jokes, clapping for Tom Petty as he swayed on stage under a drunken stupor. I was a cow prepared for the slaughter.

This is where my journey begins. Stay tuned for Part 2: Religion Wasn’t Cuttin’ It!