A Casualty in My Own War

Amid clashing cultures, I was becoming the very thing I hated.

I spent ten years in Waco, Texas, which should be more than enough for anyone. My memory of those days is a bit spotty. It goes something like this: I moved into my dorm at Baylor, made friends, enjoyed classes, joined a fraternity, pastored a rural church, started a new church funded by American Express, blah blah blah. Let me expand on that last part.

I met a friend named David Crowder, and in January 1995, we started University Baptist Church. Within six weeks, the church exploded from 0 to 600. We were telling the story of God in a way that connected with college students and with people other churches weren't reaching. One month later a local pastor wrote a scathing article in his church newsletter defaming the church and me. I had never met the man, and assuming there must be a misunderstanding, I gave him a call.

The same man who stood behind a pulpit to preach God's Word the day before now uttered vile and arrogant words through the phone line, "Son, we are in a different class. ...

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