Starting from Cane Ridge I

[Note: I have written of my journey to Antioch, still very much under way. But my account of my attraction to and movement toward Orthodoxy is only the last of a trilogy, which includes an account of my childhood and early adulthood in the Restoration Movement church (this present series), and an account of my attraction to the Anglican tradition and my confirmation in the Episcopal Church. These three sets of autobiographical essays were originally conceived during the summer of 2000. I was then extremely disillusioned with the Episcopal Church, after having had one term at seminary, was looking into Orthodoxy, and wanted to come to some sense of assessment in all this. I wanted to understand whence I had come, what then preoccupied me, and reflect on where I might find myself. The three separate essays were written within several months, and they’ve seen many revisions since then. This is the first part of the account of my Restoration Movement heritage.]

Early Childhood

I was born at 11:09 am, Thursday morning, 21 September 1967 in Wichita, Kansas. I was born a few weeks premature. My dad was working out in the field on my grandpa’s farm when my mom went into labor, and they had to race to get him in a world before cellphones. At birth I had some breathing problems, so I remained in the hospital for several days. But soon I was brought to a loving Christian home.
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Ronald Reagan: First Inaugural Address

Excerpts from Ronald Reagan’s First Inaugural Address:

In this present crisis, government is not the solution to our problem; government is the problem. From time to time we’ve been tempted to believe that society has become too complex to be managed by self-rule, that government by an elite group is superior to government for, by, and of the people. Well, if no one among us is capable of governing himself, then who among us has the capacity to govern someone else? All of us together, in and out of government, must bear the burden. The solutions we seek must be equitable, with no one group singled out to pay a higher price.

We hear much of special interest groups. Well, our concern must be for a special interest group that has been too long neglected. It knows no sectional boundaries or ethnic and racial divisions, and it crosses political party lines. It is made up of men and women who raise our food, patrol our streets, man our mines and factories, teach our children, keep our homes, and heal us when we’re sick–professionals, industrialists, shopkeepers, clerks, cabbies, and truck drivers. They are, in short, “we the people,” this breed called Americans. . . .

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