During my childhood, I wasn’t exactly a savage, but I was not far from being one.
I was baptized as a Catholic to parents who had moved away from the Faith. They separated when I was around 4 or 5, and depending on whose weekend it happened to be, Sunday mornings were either at a Lutheran church or staying in bed. I favored the sleep. However, church camp each summer was enjoyable. I committed verses from the Bible to memory and can still sense the campfire smoke when I hear “They Will Know We Are Christians By Our Love.” I was confirmed as a Lutheran in the most nonchalant manner, but my participation dwindled shortly thereafter.
During high school, several of my friends attended the nearby Missionary church, so I went along with them to the social gatherings. There was always food at the youth group events, and the band was impressive. At a youth conference when I was around 15, the speaker inquired who among us was prepared to commit their lives to Christ and embrace Jesus as their personal savior. A handful of my friends approached, and I followed suit. I truly meant it at that moment. And although I never prayed or opened the Bible (except for taking part in the Bible quiz team), I was, it seemed, saved. It appeared to be a fantastic offer — the Christian equivalent of a no-money-down, get-rich-quick scheme. I had somehow achieved the greatest reward with the least effort possible.