Salvation at Thirteen

There he sat, a hot sweaty, thirteen year old kid. It was a hot, stiflingly hot, summer afternoon in Texas. The parents, good, God-fearing people, were really worried about their only son. He hadn't made a "decision for Christ", and he was way beyond the "age of accountability". What if something happened to him, God forbid. He was destined for a Devil's Hell. They had to do something about it, even if he wouldn't. To top it all off, his best friend had made his "decision" that morning. Wouldn't it be great if they were baptized together. Well, if he wouldn't do something about that, they would. They called the pastor and asked him to come over and speak to their son.

That thirteen year old kid was me. Making a "decision for Christ was the farthest thing from my mind as I was playing outside with the neighborhood kids on that hot, Texas Sunday afternoon. I remember my Mom calling me inside. I remember wondering whose car that was in the driveway. Then it hit me. It was the preacher's! Holy cow, I mean spirit-filled bovine, what had I done? I had no clue. I then remembered that my friend had "gone down front" that morning and I thought that must be it. As I walked, sweating like a pig, into the house, there he was, the preacher. The man scared me to death. He was a stern-faced individual who rarely smiled. His booming voice during services had certainly put the "fear of God" in me, just not quite enough to get me to "make my decision". So now he was here to beat it, no, no coax it out of me. First, an aside, you gotta understand that our house had one air conditioner and it was in my parent's bedroom/ TV room. So on this near 100 degree day, where did all of us go to discuss this very, very, weighty subject, the living room. The unairconditioned living room. I mean, that's the only place to visit with the pastor, right?
There we were, my parents and the preacher sitting on the couch and me, sitting across from them, in the hot seat, so to speak.

I am only quoting from a distant memory now, but I believe the preacher said something like this, "Donnie, you know Bill (not his real name) made his "decision for Christ" this morning and will be baptized tonight. Don't you want to do the same, so ya'll can be baptized together?" There was a long pause.........What was I supposed to say? No thanks, don't think so, I got things to do outside. Can I go now? The sweat began to roll down my forehead onto my nose as the steely-faced preacher waited for my answer. I finally said, "OK". Everyone smiled, including, unexplicably, the preacher. Whew, glad that's over. So, I "went down front" that night at church and was "saved". Oh, and I was baptized that same night right behind my friend.

So what's wrong with that picture? You know, I remember making fun as a kid of all the ritual stuff that the Catholic kids in my town had to do at church. Up and down, up and down, repeat this prayer, say that phrase, go to communion, go to confession. How silly I thought that was. I made fun of THEIR ritual. I can remember thinking all those other churches are wrong and WE have it right. Was what happened to me on that hot Texas summer day RIGHT? Did all the others have it WRONG? Was I then as a thirteen year old kid assured of "going to heaven" because the preacher put me in the (literal) hot seat and got me to "give it up"?

I don't blame my parents. They were wonderful, loving parents. I always felt safe and loved. It WAS and IS the system which tells us God loves you more than you can imagine, IF YOU LOVE HIM BACK (ENOUGH).....................................