The Opening Statement

A Discussion of Life, God, and Our Natural Order

Biases

It is hard to approach any topic without some preconceived opinions or biases. Few topics trigger more ire than religion or politics. In the discussion that follows, we will be touching on both.

What we are taught—or what we come to believe—creates filters that can blind us to future enlightenment. It is very hard, but necessary, to set aside our biases when exposed to new information. Otherwise, we cut ourselves off from learning.

How much can we hope to learn when we talk only to people we agree with? It’s like talking to ourselves.

I came to religion with almost no bias. I have no memory of attending church with my parents or having any meaningful conversations related to faith or the meaning of life growing up.

Later, as a young adult, I had a passion for business. I studied business leaders and politicians and noticed that many attended church. There seemed to be a pattern: successful people often had a strong connection to faith. I began to suspect there was something real happening there. This curiosity was the extent of my exposure.

In hindsight, that absence of bias mattered as much as intelligence, education, or discipline in the search that eventually led to my current beliefs.

For the remainder of this discussion, I am not suggesting abandoning your beliefs, simply suspending them.

Meeting God

My curiosity for religion grew as it became obvious that I was missing something important. At the same time, I feared that I might have already missed my chance to learn as a child and would never be able to catch up.

I picked up a Bible and began reading. Very quickly, my fears were confirmed. It felt like reading a foreign language; nothing made sense. I didn’t know what to do about that then, but the question never fully left me.

Then, one afternoon in my mid-twenties, I was home alone watching television. A preacher stood before me, delivering a message that felt directed straight at me. I don’t remember who the evangelist was or the exact words he used, but the message was unmistakable: God loves me unconditionally and sent His only son to die so that I could live.

He said I didn’t need a church or a pastor. I only needed a quiet, private place to ask for God’s forgiveness and accept Him as Lord and Savior.

I don’t recall the exact words I said, if any. I confessed, forgiveness was granted, and the spiritual cleansing felt complete and absolute. It was over in an instant.

I found myself curled up, crying like a baby. No language has words for the profound peace I felt at that moment. I felt clearly saved, baptized, and born again. Forty-five years later, the memory remains just as moving.

I remember thinking, if it is this simple, why isn’t there some sort of quick-start guide to what must be humanity’s most important gift? Suddenly, I also noticed what must be billions of dollars in resources—in real estate alone—invested in spreading this good news. I couldn’t help but think that, with these resources, each gift could come with a full belly.

This was the first of many revelations for me, and my first true encounter with what I believed at the time to be God. That experience has replayed itself in my mind ever since. Not all at once, but over time, much of my belief system began there.