Thanksgiving Vows 2016

007As a Christian and an ordained officer of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), I affirm the sacred vow affirming:  “Jesus is my Lord and my savior.”  Through over half a century of life on this earth, I continue to grow in accepting all that this affirmation means.


American FlagNext to placing my life in the arms of God……I affirm as an American and citizen of these United States this sacred vow, the fundamental principle found in the Declaration of Independence:   “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men (and women) are created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.” 


II. Church and Family-“Christ in My Life”

At this junction, I want to share some of my thoughts about my early faith development.  I didn’t have a ZAP-BANG conversion or experience when I suddenly believed in Jesus Christ.   I learned of Christ over time.  My affirmation in affirming Christ was more a process in building up to a point of being able to say “I believe”.   I continued and continue to struggle with what it means to believe in Jesus Christ.  What I recall are a variety of experiences throughout my teenage years that brought me God and belief that Jesus was, for me, the living Christ.  Feeling the presence of God and learning of Jesus from scripture, in the context of the church, brought me into this relationship with what I describe now as the “living, vibrant presence of Jesus Christ.”

The Sermon on the Mount found in ancient New Testament scripture, was the basis, from what I recall, in accepting Christ in my life.   I recall a Sunday worship service, fidgety as usual, thumbing through the Bible looking for a text I had remembered the preacher use in a previous service.  Thumbing brought the Bible, I found the text I was looking for, Matthew 7:7:

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.  For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.  NIV

It was at a later time, perhaps that same day, I found myself sitting in my bedroom looking, once again, for this verse.  Hoping to remember it, I went looking for it once again.  I liked what this scripture said about God opening doors.   I suppose I was carrying with me some questions looking for some doors to open in revealing what God would have me do in searching for some answers in my life.
Active in the church youth group, we had regular camps and retreats.   My parents were always open to my attending these church-related events—they kept me out of trouble.   Living in the Denver area, many of these retreats were in the mountains.  One of my favorite activities during some of these retreats was worship when we were asked to go off by ourselves for a few minutes of private prayer and mediation.  There would often be scripture or a question we were asked to contemplate.  We would then come back to discuss our thoughts in a larger group.

One recollection was a warm day, fresh air, with the sun coming up over a grand mountain.  Pine trees covered the hillside.  Majestic mountains could be seen all around.  There was a small stream separating me from this majestic view on the other side.  I found myself trying to imagine what it was like for Jesus to stand on this mountain preaching to the crowds – a sermon on a mount:

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you

This leads to part of the story I’ve never shared before — questions I would ask over and over again:

Who am I?

What am I going to do after graduation?

Do I leave home?

What does God have planned for me?

Will I fall in love and find the girl I will marry?

There was some pressure from my mother to live at home and attend a local college.   This was one reason why I made the decision to find a college away from home.  My mother, a teacher herself, wanted me to be a teacher.

I had in the back of my mind being a music teacher.  I liked to sing.  I played the baritone.  I even took a class one summer on “Music Theory” – one of the most valuable classes I ever had during High School!

I also had in the back of my mind the idea of becoming a minister.  I was clueless as to how this could be done.  College was going to have to come first!

What I new for sure was the fact that I had loving, forward thinking parents who would help me with whatever I wanted to do.  I never felt the need to worry about money – that was my parent’s job!  I also knew, somehow, that God was going to be part of whatever decision I made!  Perhaps a bit naive, but I thought everyone carried God with them in making important decisions!

I had some close friends with me on this spiritual journey.  Casey and Darrel and Doug – we were best friends and “partners in crime”.   There are some things we did as teens that probably shouldn’t be mentioned in this journal.

Casey and I went to the same church.  As a group of friends, Casey and Darrel and Doug and I did lots of things together.  We played handball and tennis.  We would see movies together.  We enjoyed going camping.  It was on these camping trips we would explore our closet beliefs and what we would do with our lives.  All of my friends, seeing how active I was in the church, affirmed my thinking that ministry might be the right thing for me.

How close were these friends, my peers, my earliest spiritual advisors?  Later in life, December of 1976 or six years after we graduated from High School, these good friends would all make the trip to Pittsburgh for my wedding.   As I write this, Nancy and I will be celebrating our 40th Wedding Anniversary.  Our daughter Emily just turned 36!  J

Rather than get ahead of myself with my writing, I want to back up and describe a particular retreat when I was in high school. While on this retreat I again found myself on the side of a hill preaching to the trees.  Sound goofy?  I could imagine my friends laughing at me…..but when I told them what I as doing, they took me seriously.  I was discovering, with the affirmation of good friends, that I had a voice and heart for preaching.  I started to think I could be a pretty good minister.

Two things came to the forefront in my thinking.  Ministry, for me, would need to be grounded in relationships and experiences.   I can see now that I was beginning to develop my own theological  approach in becoming a “process theologian” – God’s love is known through the processes that evolve and grow with us as we live through various stages in life.

I don’t remember the day or time.  I do, however, remember that I was attending a “Young Life Camp”.  It was a cold winter day.   There were dozens of youth from churches around Denver gathered in a lodge listening to a guest speaker.  We were sitting on the floor with pastors from our various churches sitting or standing around the edges of the room.

While I don’t remember the specific theme that day, I know that this speaker was going to ask us to consider, privately, dedicate our lives (give our lives) to Christ.  The powerful moment came to me:

This speaker asked us to bow our heads in prayer.

We were instructed to keep our eyes shut.

We were also asked to raise our hands if we were ready to give our lives to Christ.

I raised my hand.

Later that day my pastor, I think it was Dr. Blackstock, came to me and said he noticed I raised my hand.  I had a brief conversation with him about my contemplating ministry as a possible career.  He told me I should plan a visit with the senior pastor, Rev. DeYoung, about my feelings.  He also totally floored me in sharing:

“You were the only one to raise his hand

when asked to give /  dedicate your life to Christ!” 

Whew!  I was the only one!  This powerful experience would remain with me the rest of my life.  I never saw this as a “thunder-bolt experience” with flashes of God’s spirit swirling around me.  It was a quiet experience – me and God – and a decision – a decision to continue exploring what it would mean to give my life to God.  My life would never be the same!




I. Church and Family-“I Belong to God”


I’ve given my life to the church.   I also know that this wouldn’t be possible without the support and encouragement of family!  This is a first of many entries under the theme:  Family and Church!   

I thank myimg_2854 parents, Sanford and Helen Cundiff, for being parents who made sure church was part of my life.  Born in 1951, my parents introduced me to the church through baptism on April 15, 1953.  I was baptized in a small chapel by Dr. John M. Pattison at the First Presbyterian Church of Cheyenne, Wyoming.  While born in Cheyenne, our family soon moved to Denver.  I was only three or four years old.   I had an older brother, David, and a younger sister, Susan.



It was in Aurora, Colorado where my parents introduced me to another Presbyterian Church—the First Presbyterian Church of Aurora, Colorado.   I belonged to this church until I was ordained.



When we moved to Colorado we initially lived as a family of five at the Ranger Motel on Colfax in Aurora.   My dad was busy helping to build our first Colorado home.  That motel is still located on Colfax.   I remember, in our downstairs room, the pay-television.  If I recall, we had to put a dime or quarter in a small machine on top of this television order to get thirty minutes of programming.  This was much like the machine that controlled a vibrator on the bed. 🙂

This motel was across the street and of block away from the First Presbyterian Church on Kingston Street..  As a family, we were active in this church.   I have always been a Presbyterian!   While we never really talked about it, this Presbyterian church was an anchor for our family.  With my family and this church I discovered early in my life, to borrow from some creeds, “that I belong to God”.  Church became for me, through this First Presbyterian Church of Aurora, a second home.

I attended Sunday School classes and youth fellowship.  I sang in the youth choir.  I remember, as a fifth grader, shooting a rubber band at my dad who was a Sunday school teacher.   Everybody learned that he had quite the voice when it came to showing his temper.  I may not remember the lessons taught in those Sunday school classes, but engrained in my heart was this sense that I belonged – and family church were the core of this belief.

While we moved into different houses that my dad helped to build, this First Presbyterian Church remained my church home until I was ordained in 1977.  I remember the long Saturday morning sessions in confirmation class – and learning and memorizing the Westminster Shorter Catechism—confirmed in the mid-60’s.

I was introduced to worship leadership with the Rev. CVR DeYoung.   I would read scripture and sing an occasional solo with the choir.  Oh yes, private music lessons and choir under the direction of Ken Graham were an important part of my life in belonging to the church.

Rev. DeYoung and Rev. Meanor, the Assistant pastor, were always giving me opportunities to help lead worship.  This was unusual in the 60’s in Presbyterian Churches!  Rev. DeYoung once took me to his office on a Sunday morning.  Opening the closet door he pulled out a black and blue tie.  He had me pick one.  The paisley one I was wearing wasn’t appropriate for a worship leader.    I learned many things in leading worship.  For example, I must always sit with both feet flat on the floor in front of me.  These pastoral mentors saw what my parents always knew – I was a wiggly, squirmy kid always on-the move.   They also saw some potential in my becoming a leader in the church.  They may have been wondering:  “Would I become a pastor?”

From early in life, I learned that I belonged to God.  I was greatly influenced to be open minded, if you will, a progressive thinker.  I also learned to accept others from where they were in their faith journeys.  These teachings came from both church and family.  I had people around me, family and friends and mentors, who helped me recognize a “calling” to be an ordained pastor.

Now forty years after ordination I am turning 65.  Thanks to my mom and dad for introducing me to the church through baptism.  Thanks to the church for giving me a life-long sense that I belonged to God.  In retirement, I now have time to write about this journey – and what better place to write than in this blog.  There will be more to come!