Biking To Church & Seeking Faith

Photo via Flickr, by Dennis Jarvis (CC BY-SA 2.0). Photo use does not
imply Dennis' endorsement of such use.

by Glenn Franco Simmons

Bahá’ís believe in Progressive Revelation, which is an unfolding of God's Word through Divine Messengers sent at key intervals in human history to renew and advance religious truth on earth. The concept is akin to a physician prescribing medicine tailored to a patient’s changing condition, Grok noted.

Progressive Revelation is one of the key concepts that attracted me to this wonderful Faith, at the age of 17, and it was an answer to my youthful, prayerful questioning of God about why there were so many religions.

Those questions started before the age of 6 or 7, when I started bicycling to church alone. I had friends who were Jewish, Christian and Buddhist and two were from other nations! We were like brothers, yet we all worshipped differently. Even at such a young age, I was intrigued.

Why?

However, thanks to Grandma Hill being a Baptist, my focus was on finding out more about God and His Holiness Jesus Christ.

My “why” questions kept bubbling to the surface to the more-than-obvious irritation of my otherwise nice Sunday School teacher. Finally, she burst the bubbles and asked my parents to take me out of summer school because I asked too many questions.

They did.

From The KJV.

My late brother Mario (Martin Franco III) started calling me “Why,” because I then started asking my parents, Lee and Helen Simmons, so many questions, especially on long drives in a beat-up, barely running station wagon to Thousand Oaks, Los Angeles, Anaheim, San Diego and other places in search for a new job for Dad. Grandma Helen Mae Hill and my newborn baby sister Nancy Caroline Simmons (Nancy Vizenor) also came along for some of those trips.

That is one reason I became a journalist. I enjoy asking questions and learning. My curiosity fueled my journalism career in radio, print and digital. It helps keep me active in retirement.

I soon found a Lutheran Church just down the street on the opposite side. Its Sunday School teachers did not seem bothered by all my questions. I wanted to join it, but I could not because my parents would not become Lutheran, which obviously is understandable because that was not their belief.

Because Dad had earlier lost his personnel job in an aerospace recession, we moved to Freshwater, near Eureka, Calif., in one of the most picturesque parts of this beautiful world, where he eventually became the county’s personnel director and had a scintillating reputation. Nancy, the youngest of his four daughters, has followed in his tradition at Cal-Poly Humboldt in Arcata, Calif., where my father finished his career as personnel director and where Nancy now works as a professor.

Alone most of the time, I roamed countless miles of forests that featured old- and second-growth redwoods in my youth with my Registered Irish Setter, Shannon of The Redwoods.

On many of those occasions, because I was now all alone, I often asked God to reveal Himself because I could no longer bicycle to the closest church, which I estimate was nine miles away. I could have done it physically and I can still feel the excitement of my anticipation of being able to return to church, but the busy two-lane road to get there was extraordinarily dangerous ~ especially with trucks, so my parents kiboshed that idea.

So, the answer to the prayerful questioning came a few years later when Clayton Taylor, a teacher at Eureka Senior High School, taught me about Progressive Revelation.

My heart and soul were stirred. I felt an energy in me I had only experienced once before (explained below). I would call it an exhilaration. There was also a deep desire to learn more about this new religion but also other religions, including Christianity, Islam, and Judaism.

Many more answers followed that were queried at various times of my life: from those Sunday School experiences; grade-school years of roaming the redwoods and asking questions; getting and reading “The Book of Mormon” from my Grandma and Grandpa Simmons and asking them questions via USPS mail; Catholic Christian youth groups that friends wrangled my reluctant parents into bringing me to; my thousands of talks with Grandma Hill who instilled in me my deep, abiding belief in God and Jesus Christ, took me to church, answered my questions, and encouraged my belief, and loved me and nurtured me; my teen years when I would use the shower and as water poured over my head, I would plead with Jesus to baptize me; the utterly thrilling Christian Revival at Eureka Senior High School Auditorium.

From The KJV.

It was at that Revival I felt the love, comfort and healing of Jesus Christ temporarily ease the horrific pain of my early years when my brother and I lost our birth father. 

The Holy Spirit’s power electrified my entire body, turning it into a galaxy of goose bumps that I still get to this day. Was it a peek of what is to come in the next life? Ah, another question.

When I learned of the Faith’s peaceful, unifying vision of the future (which other religions and/or denominations also have; I do not want to discredit them) and other aspects personal to me, I knew in my heart I was going to become a Bahá’í. And I did. I was known as the Baby Bahá’í for a long time, even though at 6’4”, I towered over most of the other Bahá’ís.

From “The Advent of Divine Justice.” (P. 32). Excerpt: © BIC. AI Art by Glenn (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0.)

And I still love Jesus. Becoming a Bahá’í only deepened my love for Him and expanded it to other Manifestations.

When my wife Kathleen had physical difficulty, I found a church for her that I attended with her and loved it. There is another church I have visited in Carson City that is equally loving and welcoming to all who come. The fellowship and unity are certainly to be celebrated.

There will be more. I would like to visit all denominations and pray with them and share in the fellowship of loving God and Jesus. It fills my heart with joy.

We have been to a synagogue and had a wonderful time, thanks to an invitation from a past doctor. We were invited to one of the synagogues in San Francisco but never got to make that trip. 

Walk by a church and listen to whatever type of singing and music they feature, because it is diverse, and you may also be blessed to hear a robust congregation participate. 

If you are fortunate, you may hear absolute joy, as voices in unison reach for the Heavens and celebrate the one God Whom we love.  

Tell me your heart is not moved. Mine is. Every time. 

 Amen.