Contributions

Being in the Jesus Movement

By Amanda Taylor

I was part of the Jesus movement that began in the late ‘60’s. There were many things that happened back then…here are but a few.

For me it started when I was 15 years old in March 1969. (That was the best year and the worst year.) I was born and raised in Southern California, and at that time I was a hippie. There was quite a large group of us who hung out together in Santa Ana. Even though our outside appearance was different from other people, being a hippie was really more of a state of mind.

Back in those days, our parents thought we should be seen and not heard. Instead of addressing family problems, parents usually denied they existed and swept them under the rugs. Unwed mothers were secretly forced to give up their babies, unruly teenagers were rejected by their parents and kicked out into the streets or thrown in juvenile hall, children who were molested by a family member were reprimanded and ignored…Parents and spouses who were abusive or neglectful did so without being reprimanded. Dysfunctional family life was generally denied and ignored.

Television "programming" brainwashed people into thinking this was reality by saturating the airwaves with shows like the "Donna Reed Show" and "Father Knows Best" which portrayed families as picture perfect, but that was far from the truth.

The Viet Nam war was raging and young boys were dying in what seemed like a senseless war. They were drafted into the war against their will, and most of them weren’t even old enough to drink alcohol or vote. Most of them died in the war, and those who didn’t were usually maimed and/or plagued with Post Traumatic Stress.

Being a hippie was our way of saying we didn’t like what was going on…It was our way of protesting against "the establishment". Our outward appearance of long hair, bell-bottom jeans, flowered shirts and love beads were our way of saying, we were not conforming to the ways of society. We refused to live in a plastic and unreal world full of lies and hypocrisy.

The hippies I knew all hung out on a street near downtown Santa Ana at a place called the "Psyche Shop". It was a store for hippies, which sold love beads, black-light posters and other far out things.

As the hippie scene grew more popular, many teens and adults got into experimenting with drugs, and in the process they started dropping like flies. Many of them died from overdoses, some committed suicide while having "bad trips" on acid (LSD), and others ended up with severe brain damage from frying their brains out. They were searching for something, but they didn't know what.

One day in the midst of all the confusion, a Christian coffee house opened up called "The Risen Son". It was located in the perfect location to attract visitors, which also happened to be right next door to the Psyche Shop.

The first time I walked in, I was greeted by a long-haired hippie named Jack. "Do you know Jesus?" he asked.

I was raised Catholic, which included receiving Communion and going to church on Easter and Christmas, but that was about it. I wasn’t acquainted with Him, but I did have a yearning. When I was a little girl, I repeatedly asked my mother if I could have a Bible, but back then the Catholic Church considered it a Mortal Sin to have one, so she didn’t allow it. Other than reciting the Our Father, Hail Mary and a couple of other prayers, I didn’t know anything about the Lord…until the day I walked into the Risen Son.

The Christian coffee house had only been occupied a couple of days and it was no where near finished. Some guys were building a small stage and bleachers, and the sign on the front of the store still had to be finished, but that didn’t stop Jack Sawyer from witnessing to me. (From one hippie to another...) He explained that we all had a void in our heart, and he told me it was meant to be filled by our Lord Jesus. When I found out that Jesus was the Son of God and that He died for our sins, that was all I needed to hear. I said the Sinner’s Prayer and invited Jesus into my heart that very moment.

In the days and weeks that followed, nearly everyone turned their lives over to Jesus. Overnight there were hundreds of people saved. After that on weekend nights we could be found singing and praising the Lord at the Risen Son.

We weren’t just long-haired hippies anymore, we were Christians who were on fire for the Lord! We were still very much frowned on by society and we were often called Jesus freaks, because of our love for the Lord. As Christian hippies we weren’t welcome in most churches, because we looked different.

However there was a minister who welcomed us into his flock. His name was Pastor Chuck Smith. Some of the hippies even helped Pastor Chuck refurbish his new church. Wasn’t it a surprise for passer-bys to see long-haired hippies working hand-in-hand with the clean cut Pastor and the construction guys.

By the time the church was finished, it was packed with hippies who came to know the Lord. It got so full that many people had to stand out in the parking lot and hear the service over loud speakers. Soon the congregation moved to a large tent while a larger church was built and in the meantime thousands of people got Saved. This all happened in Santa Ana (and Costa Mesa), California.

As the hippies came to the Lord, several Christian houses were also formed. They were communal houses that were lived in by several young people at once, each one adhering to strict morals and rules.

By the end of 1969, many of the Christian hippies migrated to Oregon where they lived together on several acres of land, which they named Shiloh. (Many of them got married too.)

On the way to Oregon, other Christian communal houses sprang up or were founded in small towns that they made an impression on. At the same time, the Jesus movement spread like a wild fire across the United States, and Christian coffee shops and communal houses did too.

As for me personally (now at 51 years old), Jesus has been with me since the day I let Him into my heart. Even when things got really tough and I walked away from Him, Jesus never left me. I am forever grateful for the gift that He gave me.

In 1997 when I moved to Northern California, I was surprised to discover the churches that resulted from those times…Gospel Outreach, the Lighthouse Ranch and others. They were still standing and very active, with a history of beginnings from the Jesus movement that began back then. I feel very privileged to have been part of those times…and it’s especially exciting to read about it now on the internet. God even uses the internet to spread His word. (Here’s another story…)

One of my dearest and best friends was Cindy Hughes, a girl that I knew ever since I was about 5 years old. In July 1972 when she was just 17 years old, she died tragically. Cindy received Jesus into her life about 3 years before she passed on. The guy who was responsible for her death turned his life over to Jesus and eventually became a minister. He even wrote a book about what happened to Cindy, which is called "The Pleasure Seller". As a result of Cindy’s passing, a few thousand people came to know the Lord.

When Cindy was alive, she often wore a long sleeved blue denim shirt with a picture of the face of Jesus on the back. The shirt wasn’t sold in stores…Cindy made it from a photo that she had turned into an appliqué and ironed it on the shirt. The shirt was a one-of-a-kind.

This past year, I discovered some photos on a website related to Calvary Chapel and the Jesus Movement. Some of the pictures were of people getting baptized by Pastor Chuck at the beach. To my surprise, there was my girlfriend Cindy. It was the back side of her, when she was wearing her Jesus shirt. Even though Cindy is on the other side, she is still witnessing for the Lord here on earth! Thank you Lord for sharing that with me…

Cynthia Dianne Hughes: Memorial can be found at www.findagrave.com

God bless to all...Amanda

Note: Many years later Amanda also paid a visit to one of the " Hippie Churches " and shares these photos. Amanda's wearing the brown flop hat and vest.
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We Tell On Ourselves
Contributed by Abigail Dragonmir

We tell on ourselves by the friends we seek,
By the very manner in which we speak,
By the way we employ our leisure time,
By the use we make of dollars and dimes

We tell what we are by the things we wear,
By the spirit in which our burdens bear,
By the kind of things at which we laugh,
By songs we sing, if only a paragraph

We tell what we are by the way we walk,
By the things of which we delight to talk,
By the manner in which we bear defeat,
By so simple a thing as how we eat

By books chosen from a well-filled shelf,
In the ways we tell on ourselves,
So there is really not a particle of sense,
In an effort to keep up false pretense

Live Today
Contributed by Abigail Dragomir

Yesterday is past; forget it
Tomorrow does not exist; don't worry
Today is here; use it!

Contributed by Abigail Dragomir I would like to contribute this song to the Reading Room, it's one of my favorites:

When I'd hear about the age-old story, of how Jesus died for me.
I always wished that I had been there by His side.
I would have stayed right there beside the Master, as His closest, dearest
friend.
I would have comforted His mother while she cried.

I believed that I was very different, that I'd never run away.
If it were me, I'd fight for Him--I'd stand my ground.
But then the Lord revealed to me a vision of that day on Calvary.
And to my horror and my astonishment I found...

That it was me who nailed Him to that tree.
I'm the one who shouted, "Crucify the Son of God!"
It was my sin that pierced His holy side.
When I saw who killed the Savior--It was me.

I was overcome with pain and sorrow--I cried bitter tears of grief.
I could't understand the price He had to pay.
For I know I simply was not worthy of the sacrifice He made.
What was my worth to Him that He would die that way?

(Chorus)
It was for me He lay there on that tree.
The price of sin He paid by the life He gave for free.
For my eternal soul He died and rose again.
I'm the child He gave His life for--It was me.

Now look, the cold, hard truth laid bare for all to see.
Those gentle, nail-scarred hands were pierced and bruised for me.
The Father's precious, perfect Son was in this world the only One.
Who could pay that fatal price to set me free.

(repeat chorus)

I'm the one God gave His Son for--it was me.

Our Lord, Our Guide written by Carrie Treash ( Revisions by: Michael Litz )

My dear Lord Jesus
I need strength today
To fight these temptations
and to push them away.

If I just turn to you
When I feel all is gone
To ask you for help
and how to move on.

For I know you are there
and hear me pray
Thank you, My Lord
For each gracious day.

All your blessings bestowed
Your strength and you're love
I'll never let you go
My dear Lord up above.

Dear friends,

Isn't it amazing how we have to run to keep up with time? It seems like just
yesterday was December 2005 and now it's December 2006! It seems just
yesterday, I turned 18 and now, in a few months, that will just be a memory.
I thought I'd never get out of highschool and now, I'm graduated and working
at one! Amazing! Even more amazing though, is how God has led me in the
past. He's been there every step of the way telling me "this is the way,
walk ye in it". Let me tell you about it:

January of this year, I received a full scholership to join the last half of
the Witness for Life program for school year '05-'06. It was quite an
unexpected opportunity but after some thoughtful consideration and prayer, I
decided I couldn't pass it up (even if I was still talking correspondence
courses for highschool).
So, that same week I boarded a plane to join the group now already 2 weeks
into the program at Weimar college in California. At Weimar, I took
Hydrotherapy(water treatments), massage, and some other basic college health
courses. I had my work cut out for me there because now I was not only
keeping up with highschool homework but I had college homework too! I would
get up at about 4am to have some personal time with God, then I started work
at 5am doing breakfast prep at the caff! By the end of breakfast, I was
ready to go back to bed but that's when classes started so off to class I
went. Classes went on till lunch (if I remember correctly) and then after
lunch we had one more class. The rest of the day was "off" which means I got
to work on class homework and any spare time left, I used for my
corresponcence homework! I tried to get to bed by 8 so I would be ready for
another early morning but that usually ended up being 9pm before I got under
the covers. Through it all, I managed to keep up with everything. God was
good. I was able to finish one of my correspondence courses while at Weimar.

After Weimar, I had a two week "break" during which I went home to take some
highschool finals and pack up for my next adventure --The European Bible
School located in Scotselv, Norway!

We got to EBS in March, with snow up to our knees in some places! After
recovering from jet lag, I began to get into the program a little more. At
EBS we took a four month course on leadership and organizational skills. We
had teachers from all over the world --Ethiopia, Norway, Germany, U.S.A.,
France, you name it! We had classmates from everywhere too! (Those of you
bad at remembering names...you don't know the worst of it! Some names I
couldn't even pronounce, much less remember!) Anyway, it was really
character building and a unique experience, to say the least. As I evaluate
the whole Witness for Life program, I find EBS to have been the best yet
most stressful part of last year. I was unable to make arrangements to have
time off for my correspondence courses like I had expected so this is how it
was for most of the time --classes all morning, 4 hour work period, then I
was also leading a quartet so practice time for that, any spare time went to
my correspondence homework. Many late nights and early mornings but I made
it. By God's grace, I was able to finish my last highschool course(graduate
highschool) by the deadline and keep up with everything else!

The leadership program ended in June after which I went on a Reformation
History Tour in Italy(last part of WFL Program) We spent about five days in
Rome visiting the Colesseum, catacombs, Vatican, and other significant
places followed by a weekend in the Waldensian Valley. This tour was on I
won't soon forget. I never dreamed I would one day be able to see places
where great men of our history once stood up for principle, where they gave
up there lives because of faith in a better resurrection, where they left
legacys that will stand forever.

I returned home June 21 with a job offer to work as assistant dean at
Fountainview Academy in BC, Canada. I hade made other plans for the year and
although I was quite set on going through with those plans, God showed me He
had other plans, better plans. :)

So after spending the summer visiting my relatives in Romania, I returned
home and then flew to Canada to get started on my new job! Minus a few
problems at the boarder, my entry into the maple leaf country was quite
smooth. I have to say, my job was a totaly new experience. The hardest part
was trying to get past the fact that although I am the same age as some of
the students, my statuse is not the same. I had to be ready to apply
discipline when needed, to supervise, to tell people what to do(I DO NOT
like to do that!), etc... But I soon got used to it. Now it's like second
nature...I find this kind of work very rewarding and I really enjoy spending
time with the girls-- counseling them, encouraging them, just being there
for them. I'm so grateful to the Lord for bringing me here, this is just the
experience I needed.

This is a very much condensed version of this past year in my life but, as
you can see, God has been leading in amazing ways.

I hope each of you are doing well and that you too have a testimony to tell
about how God has led you this year. I'd love to hear it so drop me a line!

Merry Christmas Happy New Year to you all, I'll be waiting to hear from YOU!
(Congrats to those of you who made it through this e-mail!)

Kindest Regards,

Abby

P.S. To all my OHA family --I love you, keep on the straight and narrow.
To my former AEISE classmates --Matt. 28:19,20, press on toward the mark to
win the prize!
To those of you not in the above categories--your still special, stay
faithful.

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BUYING THE WAL-MART JESUS

Note : This well written piece was not contributed by the Author ( unknown )
but it truly reflects today's times.

The new Wal-Mart Supercenter just opened up in my town, and man, what a sight! It’s a mammoth structure of utilitarian architecture that houses everything from a grocery to a garden center, along with every dry good you can imagine from fashion wear to office supplies. And people just flock there because it’s one-stop shopping, famous low prices, and a quick “get in and get out” affair. It is an amazing achievement in the history of American consumerism.

Oh, and don’t forget about the official Smiley Face mascot greeting you on every sign. It just makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside as you spend your money to save money.

The only problem is that the former Wal-Mart building in town is now vacant since the retail giant moved its local operation to the new Supercenter facility. Hard to believe that twenty years ago this smaller Wal-Mart store was the shining Camelot on the hill for local shoppers. Now it’s just a castle ruin, an empty shell of its former glory as the company moves on to bigger and better things. Alas, a sign of the times, I’m afraid.

Prior to the beginning of this Sam Walton invasion, our town had a few Mom-and-Pop retail stores downtown, but they’re gone now, too. The first Wal-Mart that landed here soon priced those little shops right out of the market and made it too easy for the faithful customers of our local enterprises to be slowly seduced by the discount convenience of the new store in town. Hometown loyalty and one-on-one service be damned! Pretty soon, those slow-paced, family-run stores with creaky wood floors and clanging brass cash registers had to close their doors for good. Nobody valued their unassuming brand of commerce anymore.

So why do I bring all this up?

Because it seems to me that many Christians today have been infected with the same corrupting consumerism that has given rise to the Wal-Mart Supercenter. Their lives are no longer content with the eloquent simplicity of Jesus Christ and His Word, but now clamor for a wide variety of new and improved Christianized products to over-indulge their so-called faith.

The congregations have moved out of the austere model of the small-town church, where unadorned worship to God rang forth, and have instead built for themselves Christian Supercenters in which to sell their worldly goods and services in the name of Christ.

You see striking evidence of this Wal-Mart mentality in postmodern Christianity every time you step into your local Christian bookstore and have to walk past shelf after shelf of shiny religious trinkets and trite bestsellers before you get to that little section of plain black Bibles in the far back corner. You see it every time you watch millions of professed Christians assemble in their multi-million dollar sanctuaries to hear feel-good sermons by Smiley Face mascots who offer heaven and happiness at a discount price.

Of course, it didn’t use to be like this. There was a time, believe it or not, when we survived just fine without the trappings of modern consumerism in our life. Long before the first Wal-Mart was built in my mostly-rural area, the presence of any kind of retail store was a rarity. All people really had back then was the Sears catalog. It sat there, prized like the family Bible, on the kitchen counter. Every member of the family had gone through that tome over and over again, memorizing the products that they dreamed of having one day. Yet they had no money for such luxuries and if they did, it was only due to careful hoarding of every stray penny they could scrape up. Sometimes they had to wait three years before saving enough money to buy that fancy hand-cranked clothes wringer so Mom didn’t have to wear out her arms twisting the clothes dry, unaided by modern technology.

Of course, when times got really bad, even the Sears catalog brought no comfort, except to supply a need for toilet paper in the outhouse.

Back then, we had a Great Depression caused by the blind self-indulgence of the Jazz age; and rural people in this area (through no fault of their own) were especially hit hard by it. These poor country folks didn’t have convenience stores, they only had each other. Families made just about everything they owned, and if they couldn’t make it, they had a good neighbor who could. It was a time when farming was so bad that it was more profitable to use their corn crop to burn in their stove for heat than to sell it for a lousy few cents per bushel.

So the local families knitted themselves together and looked out for one another. It was a hard time, sometimes a desperate time. But with lots of faith, love, and patience, they got through it together as a community. There was no such thing as fast food outlets, shopping malls, or Wal-Mart Supercenters to bring swift temporal relief to their plight. It was a bare-boned existence that divided the wheat from the chaff, and forced humble folks to focus on the simple things in life that really mattered and to rejoice in them.

So you see, there was a time when Christians in this country were content with being lowly, meek, and poor in spirit. They served humbly in small congregations, read their Bibles faithfully, and prayerfully focused on the glory of Christ alone as they witnessed and brought aid to others. Over time, however, we became more prosperous and self-satisfied, and just like the Jazz Age, we began to borrow on a spiritual capital that we no longer possessed in order to gratify our ever-increasing desire for the things of this world. Soon, many churches became bastions of consumerism and began emulating themselves after the business world, until they finally transformed themselves into a kind of Wal-Mart Christianity.

The problem is, this over-indulgence in the churches will one day takes its toll and collapse like the stock market in 1929 because it is built on a foundation other than Christ alone. And when that inevitable day arrives in which we are stripped of our fleshy provisions and thrust into a great spiritual Depression, how will this rabid Christian consumerism provide for our needs and how much of it will quickly be engulfed by the fires of God’s testing?

In the end, it’s hay and stubble, my friends. All this Wal-Mart Christianity is just hay and stubble