Reacquainting with My College Past

The year was 1998. I had just graduated high school, after attending the same exact school for 12 years. I’m an only child, and I had rarely ventured far from my hometown. God had called me into ministry, and a church was going to pay my way to the nearest independent Baptist Bible college if I would serve as the music and youth director. The nearest college that fit the bill was then known as Piedmont Baptist College.

Piedmont was a small school of around 300 on-campus students. We had not yet reached the virtual age. For someone like me, the school’s size was perfect in some ways. My time there would be my first pendulum swing in life.

I grew up in the United Methodist Church. While I did not adhere to the liberalism that was prevalent in the denomination, I was doing my best to avoid becoming an independent Baptist. The independent Baptist movement I had known had NOTHING to do with conservative doctrine but EVERYTHING to do with efforts to appear holy through the abstinence of certain activities and avoidance of certain associations. I also knew I wasn’t Pentecostal, but I knew I loved the freedom they know in expressing passionate worship to the Lord. When the church I was serving offered to pay my tuition, it seemed like a sign from God to become an independent Baptist. The pendulum of my life swung far right, but I never felt at home.

Think about it for a minute. I was a United Methodist boy who was not all that cultured in the ways of a good independent Baptist. I didn’t fit in with the MKs (missionary kids) or the PKs (pastor’s kids), although I tried. I was all too musically emotional for a Bible college culture that taught us that any music emphasizing beats two and four was fleshly and sensual and, therefore, must be avoided at all costs. We were told in a training once that the only secular music that met the college criteria was a small number of selections from The Carpenters, although it was not recommended that we partake in such music.

It was hard to suppress the inner hand-lifter who was not raised in a culture that did that. I was in danger if I expressed my beliefs about Bible versions or that I might think that God would work outside their box because He’s God and He can. There was a liberated Christian trapped inside me that longed to come out – one who understood his biblical liberty or at least had an idea and was fighting the brainwashing conformity that seemed to be all too present.

It was difficult being in a place where I never fit in. I had a small circle of friends. Some of them are still, two decades later, living in the denominational confines. Many have found liberty they didn’t know was biblically available in Christ. I was stuck between the liberty I wanted and the judgment that pressed at me. I was pretty well written off when I married a PK who didn’t fit the bill. Anathema was the theme of the day when she and I had the nerve to declare God was calling us away to another school and to also make a faith move to chase a ministry possibility that wasn’t in the bag but did become a reality a few months later (one of the best decisions I ever made).

Although 1998-2001 was spent trying to sort out my identity crisis, I did encounter some real Jesus-loving people. They were the renegades who, much like me, had experiences and longings that were adventurous and not contrary to God’s will. They were people like Dr. Leonard Allred who introduced me to traditional and non-traditional methods of discipleship, Erich Richter who had the audacity to make daring statements that challenged some of the legalistic college culture, and then President Howard Wilburn became the Senior Pastor at Salem Baptist, the church across the street from the school, and led them toward reaching this generation with some updated methodology rather than trying to keep the church stuck in its 1970s heyday. These gentlemen of the faith challenged me to minister outside the box when God places an order for outside the box.

I was introduced to excellence in Christian circles. While the school was very conservative musically, I remember very robust congregational singing of the hymns of the faith and organ music at Salem Baptist Church that was first class. I attended Salem for a few months in between ministries and had the privilege of leading congregational music with the excellent organist aforementioned. One night, we had to move the service to the college chapel. Cal, the organist, moved to the piano, and I was crazy enough to follow Erich Richter’s advice and take requests. Someone in the congregation decided to have fun and select one I had never heard. After pulling myself together, I said, “I’m not familiar with this one, so I’m going to ask Brother Cal to play through this once and we will sing the first stanza.” Cal and I had a good laugh afterward. Little did I know that the hallowed ground once known as Piedmont Baptist College would better prepare me for music ministry while I was in the pastoral training major. I had no idea I would still be in music ministry all these years later.

The Piedmont days were definitely my “fish out of water” days, but they helped shape me into who I am today. Some of the faculty and student body from those days may look at my life and ministry and want to hurl a stone or two. Others may be okay with the direction God led me. All I know is I’m content with the direction God led me. In the words of the hymn writer, “This my song through endless ages, Jesus led me all the way!”