Rome Sweet Home Read online

  One episode reinforced this. At the end of my senior year I was on my way to the high school for a rehearsal when I passed the home of my former best friend, Dave. His light was on and I thought, I ought to stop by and at least say good-bye before graduating and going off to college. I had barely seen him in the past couple of years.

  I rang the doorbell, and Dave’s mom answered the door, inviting me in, I think she’d heard I’d gotten religion—she was so delighted to see me. As I stepped in, Dave was coming down the steps, putting his coat on. When he saw me, he stopped dead in his tracks. “Scott!?”

  “Dave?”

  “Come on up.”

  At first it was very awkward. Then we began to talk and talk. We were laughing and sharing, just like old times. What seemed like fifteen minutes ended up being over two hours. I completely missed my rehearsal! As I lamented this fact, I suddenly said, “But wait. You had your coat on. I’m sorry. I must have kept you from some plan, too.”

  Suddenly his whole complexion changed. “Why’d you come here tonight?”

  “Just to say good-bye and have a nice life.”

  “But why tonight?”

  “I don’t know. Hey, did I make you miss something important?”

  I looked at this big hunk of a guy who’d been so athletic, funny and popular, and his voice was shaking. “When you came, I was getting ready to go. . . .” He reached into his bag and pulled out eight feet of rope, a noose at one end. “I was going out to hang myself. I was up in a tree in the old apple orchard this afternoon, getting ready to do it, and two little girls walked by. But I thought, I’ve already ruined my life, why ruin theirs? So I decided to do it tonight after it got dark, I was on my way out when you came.”

  He started to cry and asked me to pray for him. We embraced and I prayed for him right then and there. On the way out of his house, I noticed the crucifix hanging on the wall by the front door. I thought to myself. What a pity he’s never heard the gospel. Stepping outside to walk home, I looked up to the stars and said to God, “Lord, I didn’t know what he was about to do, but you did, didn’t you? If you can use the likes of me to help a guy like Dave. . . . Here I am. Use me some more—especially to help Catholics.”

  Kimberly:

  Just before Christmas bells rang in 1957, my father was given the news that his firstborn child was born: Kimberly Lorraine. His heart rejoiced with my mother.

  My parents, jerry and Patricia Kirk, bathed me in prayer from the first moment they knew I was on the way right up to the present day. They fed me the Word of God right along with my peas and potatoes. They baptized me as a baby and taught me the faith from my earliest moments. They set a good example, always learning about the Lord and growing in their faith life. And their love for each other and the Lord provided a tremendous foundation for my faith. What a rich heritage!

  Along with the psalmist they could say, “I will sing of the steadfast love of the Lord, thy mercy, O Lord, forever. With my mouth I will proclaim thy faithfulness to all generations” (Ps 89:1).

  Because I loved my parents, I loved the God they loved. Because I believed my parents, I believed in the God they believed in—that he had done what they said he had done. I believed the Bible was true because they said it was. And yet there comes a time when each of us needs to decide about whether or not Jesus’ claims on our lives are, in fact, true.

  One day in seventh grade I had that opportunity to make it my own. Raised in a solid Christian family, I was one of those typically “good” kids who don’t do a lot of big, external sins as much as sins in attitudes and thoughts. The sins of omission tended to be greater than the sins of commission. But that day I was very conscious of how much I was failing God, and I was primed to listen to Dr. Lloyd Ogilvie preach.

  I heard the gospel in a way that convicted my heart: God loved me and had a desire for me to live with and for him, but my own sins separated me from him and those sins had to be forgiven for me to be close to God. That was why Jesus had come. I had to acknowledge my own need. I had to ask specifically for forgiveness for those sins—saying, “Jesus, be my Savior.” And I had to say to him, “I want you on the throne of my life—Jesus, be my Lord.” No longer held by the hand of my parents, I needed to be grasped firmly by the hand of my heavenly Father.

  The preacher had barely finished the “altar call” before I was running down the steps of the balcony and up the aisle to say, “Yes, Jesus. Yes, I need you. Yes, I want you to be at the center of my life.”

  Psalm 51:1 says, “Have mercy on me, O God, according to thy steadfast love, according to thy steadfast mercies, blot out my transgressions.” That was my prayer.

  This experience plunged me into an entirely new relationship with the Lord. I had a desire to learn about my faith as never before. I wanted to fast—not because I was being told to, but because I wanted more of God than before. I had a hunger for the Word of God, to read it, to study it and to memorize it. And I looked forward to confirmation later that year, not only to share my faith with the elders of our church, but also to begin receiving communion. When I thought of approaching the table of the Lord, I related it to the experience my mother had provided me day after day at supper: it was homecoming after the battles of the day; it was a celebration of one another; it was a love feast served with beauty and grace. Little did I know how much more she prepared my heart for future reception of the Eucharist than for Presbyterian communion.

  I had chances to live my faith in new ways: witnessing constantly, carrying my Bible on the top of my books to read as well as to spawn conversations (which it did), helping start prayer groups in the morning before classes. . . . I was obnoxious, at times. But converts can be that way—and they tend to be more fruitful many times than those staid and steadyhanded in the faith.

  I grew in love—letting God love me just the way I was, loving God in new ways and learning how to treat my brothers and sisters in Christ. My junior- and senior-high years were filled with all kinds of exciting ministries: leading Bible studies, evangelizing and singing with a Christian teen group called Young Folk, as we led worship services in local churches and on summer tours. This helped to establish a strong, Christian peer group for me.

  I had difficult but invigorating battles at my public high school. I would share my faith and get challenged by students and teachers. Then I would come home and my parents would fortify me, giving me more Scripture to take back. I seemed to be living up to my name—Kimberly means “warrior maiden” in Gaelic. I really enjoyed those confrontations, I must say. I was curious to see if a Christian college would have as many challenges.

  The Kirk family, 1962. Kimberly is sitting on her mother’s lap.

  May, 1979. Graduation Day. Grove City College, Grove City, Pennsylvania.

  2

  From Ministry to Marriage

  Scott:

  The summer before going off to college, I toured the United States, Scotland, England and Holland, playing guitar in a Christian musical group, the Continentals. By the end, I got the guitar and music out of my system enough to want to concentrate on Scripture and theology in college.

  My four years at Grove City College went by in a whirlwind. I majored in theology, philosophy and economics—I added the last one to satisfy my more practical father, who was paying the tuition bills. I also got involved in the local branch of Young Life. I wanted to return the favor to God for using Young Life to introduce me to the gospel. So I worked in that organization all four years, evangelizing and discipling high-school kids in the faith, as I had received it.

  I’d like to relate a story that captures the zeal that motivated me in sharing the gospel with people who didn’t know Christ.

  An acquaintance told me about Dr. Francis Schaeffer, a great Christian scholar with whom he was studying in Europe. Dr. Schaeffer decided to take a weekend off to visit Paris with a couple of his students. One night as they strolled the streets of Paris, they saw a prostitute on a street corner. To the students’ h
orror, they watched their mentor walk right up to the woman.

  He said, “How much do you charge?”

  “Fifty dollars.”

  He eyed her up and down and said, “Nah, that’s too little.”

  “Oh yeah, for Americans, it’s one hundred fifty dollars.”

  He stepped back again, “That’s still too low.”

  She quickly said, “Uhh, oh yeah, the weekend rate for Americans is five hundred dollars.”

  “No, that’s still too cheap.”

  By this time she was a little irritated. She said, “What am I worth to you?”

  He responded, “Lady, I couldn’t possibly pay you what you are worth, but let me tell you about someone who already has.”

  The two men watched as their mentor—right then and there—knelt with her on the sidewalk and led her in a prayer to commit her life to Christ.

  That’s the kind of zeal to share the gospel that we had in Young Life; and for the life of me I couldn’t understand why so many mainstream churches didn’t even seem to care.

  I deliberately targeted Roman Catholics out of compassion and concern for their errors and superstitions. When it came to leading Bible studies for the high-school kids, I strategically aimed my teachings to reach Catholic young people, who I felt were so lost and confused. I was especially alarmed at their ignorance—not only of the Bible but of their own Church’s teachings. For some reason, they didn’t even know the basics of the catechism. I got the feeling that they were being treated like guinea pigs in their own CCD programs. As a result, getting them to see their Church’s “errors” was like shooting ducks in a barrel.

  Back in the dorm, some of my friends began talking about getting “rebaptized”. We were all growing fast in the faith together and attending a local fellowship. The minister—a spellbinding speaker—was teaching that those of us who were baptized as babies were never really baptized. My friends seemed to go along with everything he said. The next day they were sitting down to agree on a date for getting “dunked for real”.

  I spoke up. “Don’t you think we ought to study the Bible for ourselves to make sure he’s right?”

  They didn’t seem to hear. “What’s wrong with what he’s saying, Scott? After all, do you remember getting baptized? What good is baptism for babies, who can’t believe anyway?”

  I wasn’t really sure myself. But I knew the answer wasn’t to play “follow the leader”—to base my beliefs simply on feelings, as they seemed to be doing. So I told them, “I don’t know about you, but I’m going to study the Bible some more before rushing into rebaptism.”

  Next week they got “rebaptized”.

  Meanwhile, I went to one of my Bible professors and told him what was happening. He wouldn’t tell me his opinion. Instead, he urged me to study the issue more closely. “Scott, why not make infant baptism the topic for your research paper in my class?”

  I was stuck.

  To be honest, I didn’t want to study it that much. But I guess the Lord knew I needed a little extra pressure. So for the next few months I read everything I could get my hands on.

  By this point in my Christian life, I had already read through the Bible three or four times. From my reading, I was convinced that the key to understanding the Bible was the idea of the covenant. It’s there on every page—with God making one in every age!

  Studying the covenant made one thing clear. For two thousand years, from the time of Abraham to the coming of Christ, God showed his people that he wanted their babies to be in covenant with him. The way to do it was simple: give them the sign of the covenant.

  Of course, back in the Old Testament, the sign of entering God’s covenant was circumcision; whereas Christ changed it to baptism in the New Testament. But nowhere did I find Christ announcing that, from now on, babies were to be kept out of the covenant.

  In fact, I found him saying practically the opposite: “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of heaven” (Mt 19:14).

  I also found the apostles imitating him. For example, at Pentecost, when Peter finished his first sermon, he called everyone to embrace Christ by entering into the New Covenant: “Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins; and you shall receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. For the promise is to you and to your children. . .” (Acts 2:38-39).

  In other words, God still wanted children in covenant with him. And since the New Testament gave only baptism as the sign for entering the New Covenant, why should the babies of believers not be baptized? No wonder, as I discovered in my study, the Church practiced infant baptism from the beginning.

  I went to my friends with the results of my biblical research. They didn’t want to hear it—much less discuss it. In fact, I sensed that they felt uncomfortable with my even studying the issue.

  I made two discoveries that day. For one thing, I learned that many so-called Bible Christians prefer to base their beliefs on feelings, without praying and thinking through Scripture. For another, I discovered that the covenant was really the key for unlocking the whole Bible.

  I decided then, my freshman year, that the covenant would be the focus of my study for all future class papers and projects. And I followed through on it. In fact, after four years of studying the covenant, I determined that it was really the overarching theme of the entire Bible. Scripture was making more and more sense.

  By my senior year at college, I had one other goal besides going to seminary for graduate studies in Scripture and theology: to marry the most beautiful and spiritual woman on campus, Miss Kimberly Kirk.

  I had already recruited her as a Young Life leader. For two years, we ministered side by side. Then I proposed marriage to her. To my delight, she accepted.

  After I graduated from college with highest honors in theology and philosophy, I moved to Cincinnati so that we could spend the summer preparing for marriage. With Kimberly Hahn at my side, I was ready to face the future, full steam ahead.

  Kimberly:

  I enrolled at Grove City College in 1975 to begin my undergraduate degree in Communication Arts. I had chosen a Christian college, not to get a break from the battles that had really invigorated my walk with God back in a secular, public high school, but to grow in a more deeply challenging way: to be iron sharpening iron with other Christians. However, once in college, the dilemma in which I found myself floundering was the ease with which I could slough off growing in a dynamic way, because most people either were Christians or acted like it. I wasn’t going forward in my relationship to Christ; this meant I was going backward, since it wasn’t possible to stand still.

  The summer between my sophomore and junior years I was convicted about my spiritual slump at college. I’d had a great time being in plays, a sorority and clubs, but I really hadn’t grown spiritually. Jesus was not asking to be at the center of my life—he was requiring it. I knew that, but I was acting as though I had invited him into my life on my terms, when it was convenient for me. However, he was the One inviting me into his life. I needed to find a ministry that would really drive me to my knees, something that was simply too big for me to conquer on my own. I was at that place of a fresh yielding to the Lord when 1 returned to Grove City College for my junior year.

  When I came back in the fall I was involved in the Orientation Board, and Scott was a Resident Assistant. For these reasons we were both involved in the freshman dance. I noticed him at the dance, and I thought, He’s too handsome to go over and talk to. Then I thought, No, he isn’t. I can go and talk to him.

  So I went over and started talking to him. Almost immediately he said to me, “Do you believe God exists?”

  I thought, Oh, Lord, this guy has lost his faith over the summer. Give me the words to say. For ten minutes I stumbled through my explanation that God does, in fact, exist. I finally said, “Do you think God exists?”

  And he said, “Oh, yeah.”

  Surprised, I said, �
�Why have you been drilling me for the last ten minutes?”

  “I wanted to see what you were made of”, was his reply. “Do you want to take a walk?”

  So we went for a walk, I shared my conviction from the summer that the last two years in college would differ from the first two by my involvement in some kind of ministry that would challenge me to grow spiritually. “Have I got the ministry for you!” Scott announced. “Have you ever heard of Young Life?”

  I knew about Young Life because my father had come to faith in Christ through Young Life in Colorado. When Dad attended seminary in Pittsburgh, he had brought the ministry of Young Life into the Pittsburgh area. What I didn’t know was that it was Pittsburgh’s Young Life ministry that had reached Scott for Christ. After that experience, he had come to college to be involved in the local high-school Young Life club and was really interested in recruiting strong girl leaders to help him.

  Scott described it. “We go up to the high school and we hang out. We get to know the kids. We go to their games, give them rides home from school and love them right where they are. We win the right to be heard, and, at the right time, we share Christ with them. Then we disciple the kids who have committed their lives to Christ. We challenge them down to their toenails on what it means to live for Christ. I need girl leaders. Will you come on board?”

  I knew it was something that would really demand getting on my knees. I was scared to death! So I said, “All right. That’s what I’m supposed to do.”

  For the next two years, we served in the Young Life ministry with some other college students, side by side. At first, it was scary to go to the high school just to hang out, but we wanted to become friends with the students to share the Lord with them. God was really with us, strengthening us; the fruit was abundant.

  Scott taught the leaders effective ways of communicating the gospel and discipling. He played the guitar for the music and gave many of the talks at our weekly club meetings. He led such challenging Bible studies for the kids that all the leaders wanted to attend. In fact, he had to discourage some leaders from coming because the room was so crowded with students.