I was born in 1962 in an old Spanish colony on the coast of California. They called it The Village
of Our Lady the Queen of the Angels, in honor of Mary the mother of Jesus. Never heard of
it? Oh, silly me. Like most people, you probably know it by its abbreviated name in Spanish:
Los Angeles.
I grew up somewhere between the gleaming glass towers of Bunker Hill and the bright lights of
Hollywood. Coming from a religious family, I attended church and Sunday School almost every
week through the twelfth grade. Disillusioned by the shallowness of the religious instruction
that I received as a child, I set out on a search for God while still in my teens. This search took
me all over town, to three or four counties, to churches and spiritual groups many miles from
home.
At various times I was Catholic, then Protestant, then New Age, Charismatic, and “Born Again”. I prayed, chanted,
spoke in tongues, and “prophesied.” Got myself anointed with holy oil, slain in the Spirit, and “saved” again and again.
Jumped up, bowed down, laughed and wept. Several years later, after shopping around and examining many
disparate philosophies, I wasn’t much closer to God than when I began. Then, a friend invited me to a weekly a Bible
study that met in our neighborhood.
After reading the Bible in earnest for the first time (what an idea!), I learned what it means to become—and to live as—
a Christian. Deny myself? Carry a cross? Evangelize? There were so many things that I never learned as a child.
At last, after a few weeks of study and soul searching, I was baptized into Christ in October 1990. And life has never
been the same.
So what did I learn, exactly? I found that many of the things I was taught in my youth were not consistent with the
teaching of the Scriptures. But perhaps the most unsettling matter was this notion that “Jesus died for the sins of the
world.” Is this true? Well, of course it is. But then I read something in Isaiah 53:
Surely he took up our infirmities and carried
our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by
God, smitten by him, and afflicted.
But he was pierced for our transgressions, he
was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment
that brought us peace was upon him, and by his
wounds we are healed.
We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us
has turned to his own way; and the LORD has
laid on him the iniquity of us all.
In the New Testament, this passage is identified as a prophecy about the ministry of Christ. And it tells me that Jesus
didn’t just die for “the world.” Rather, he died for me. For my sins, my transgressions, my drinking and swearing
and fornication. And that’s a much different concept. Without this understanding, I would never be able to fully
understand—or appreciate—his sacrifice.
To date, most of my career has been spent in the retail industry. Let’s just say that I have learned far more about
women’s apparel (yikes!) than I ever wanted to know. My wife Ruth and I live in Southern California, where we are
active members of a non-denominational Christian church. Over the years, we have led Bible study groups and have
mentored many young Christians to help them mature in Christ. We have a son, Bradley, age 8.
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A rare clear day in downtown L. A.
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