Testimony of Kevin Moore

Given during January 18, 2004 Worship Service

It was evening -- August 23, 1977. And though it was over 25 years ago, I remember it very well. You see, it was a day that changed my life. It was a day set apart from the foundation of the world and it had my name on it. It was a day that took a simple invitation by a faithful stranger and bore eternal fruit.

That evening was beautiful. My ship skimmed effortlessly through the calm Malaysian waters. The warm air brought the smell of the salty humid sea to my nostrils. To stand on the bow with the wind in my face and the sound of the sea slap, slap, slapping against the hull with its rhythmic chant would lull me into a blissful calmness.

But I was not very calm that evening. I had a job to do. Though a sailor underway aboard the USS Oklahoma City, in my free time I was taking a college-level English class aboard ship. The task assigned to us was to take some thing that did not have human qualities and personify it. I chose to give human qualities to death.

I had seen death many times in my life by that time. I recalled looking into the white, unmoving faces of two of my grandparents at their funerals. I waited for them to suddenly sit up and smile again - but they did not. I knew that death came to everyone - I knew that no one escapes. This is the death that I personified in my story. I remember ending my rather stereotypical and macabre composition with the hopeless words, "Death was, is and always will be boldly laughing, victoriously grinning, and intently watching."

The somber certainty of death's victory silhouetted by the intense serenity of my surroundings was a perfect picture of my own soul that night. You see, I was not a stranger to Christianity, but I was not a true believer either. I walked to church nearly every Sunday until I was five. I went to Sunday School and heard the stories of Jesus. I learned the Golden Rule. Though unaware of it at that time, my faithful God was laying a solid foundation in my mind and heart. My family moved to Lakewood when I was five and, since it was too far to walk, I only attended Grace Brethren on rare occasions like Easter and then finally not at all. Through my growing up years, I basically served myself. I would, however, occasionally reach out in faith towards God, but usually when I was frightened like after seeing a movie like The Exorcist. When I entered the Navy after high school, I was asked what religion I wanted to have imprinted on my dog tags. I chose the title "Christian". I knew I wasn't a Buddhist or a Muslim or a Jew. And I didn't want to be associated with any of those religions like Catholic, or Methodist or Baptist. I dubbed myself a Christian -- but the nature of my soul was not Christ-like. A pretty name cannot change the man.

I lived the first few years of my military life as the proverbial sailor. I did my job well when we were at sea. But when we hit the beach I had money to spend on wine, women and song -- and I did. I lived with a reckless abandon for the pleasures of sin. But even then, my God knew me and continued to whisper my name.

The life of sin is an empty, hollow life. It wears laughter on the outside but is bankrupt on the inside. This knowledge grew in my heart and mind. I bought a Bible. I began to attend Christian meetings when invited by friends. But, frankly, I didn't really want to be like those "Christians." I was torn. I knew I needed something, but it wasn't a religion or a creed or a set of rules. How grateful I am that God knew what I needed and how to provide it.

It was a beautiful evening -- August 23, 1977. I was nearly finished with my composition about the blue-eyed, steel-ginned, victorious Death. I was working feverishly because the quiet study hour time was at an end and in just a few minutes those Christians would come in to the same room for their Bible study. Then Tom Fritz spoke. "That must be a very interesting paper to have you so intent upon it," he said. I was embarrassed to confess the content of my composition to a Christian -- especially a Lt. Commander who was a Christian. "I'm basically finished now" I confessed. "Then, would you care to join us in watching a movie?" he asked. I didn't want to stay, but something -- someone -- was tugging inside.

The movie was on the life of Christ -- a review of the old stories I already knew. Afterward I went outside on the deck. The beauty of the evening enveloped me. As I stood leaning against the rail looking into the water and up into the stars, Tom came out and talked to me once again. He began to show me that the stories of Jesus I had just heard again were not simply true, but were true for me. Jesus not only came to bring salvation to the world, but to bring salvation to me. Christ not only loved the world, but He loved me. The truth of it all flooded my mind and my soul that night. I was ripe for the harvesting. With complete abandon to the Spirit of God, I opened my mind and my heart to Jesus and confessed with my mouth that He was Lord -- Lord not just of the world but of my life as well. For the first time in my life, the calmness I was experiencing outside with my senses was surpassed by the calmness in my soul.

In the nearly 27 years since that evening, I have grown some, I have learned a ton and served my Lord in many ways. But all of this counts as next to nothing for "flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom." I have also had times of doubt and times of dryness and times of backsliding. But these will not permanently alter my true course. I am His and He is mine.

No where has this been more evident to me than in the death of my own dear mother just prior to this past Christmas. To once again see death take a loved one away is hard. But because of that evening long ago, when God called me to Him and I responded in saving faith, I see death differently. I now know, with a confidence that only comes from an all-powerful, loving Father, that death is not the victor -- Christ is. Even in face of this most recent loss, I can, because of the victory gained by Christ, say with the Apostle Paul, "So when this corruptible has put on incorruption, and this mortal has put on immortality, then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written: "Death is swallowed up in victory. O death where is thy sting? O grave where is thy victory?" The sting of death is sin, and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." (I Corinthians 15: 54 - 58)