Woodstock, love-ins, freaks &
hippies, Timothy Leary, Led
Zeppelin, Janis Joplin and Jimi
Hendrix, the Sixties were the years
of discovery. The air seemed to be
alive with limitless excitement and
endless possibility. All the hopes
and dreams I had labored to fulfill
had been put to death on the gallows
of failure. The doorway to a "new
era" was suddenly flung wide open,
right in front of me.
You had to have been there. You had
to have been a part of it to know
what I mean. It was like the dawning
of a new age. It seemed as though a
whole new culture, or race of people
were born overnight. We lived in a
kingdom of "love, joy and peace."
Many of our generation's inhibitions
and bigotries were drowned in a sea
of "Leary's elixir of love."
Slogans like, "let LSD (a popular
hallucinogenic drug of the era) set
you free," filled the thoughts of a
war-weary generation of youth. We
were tired of the older generation
dictating to us the way we should
live or think. Jimi Hendrix, a
former Marine, became the champion
of this new freedom as an acid-rock
guitarist and psychedelic Guru. A
new outlook on life was birthed with
lyrics like, ". . . nobody can die
when it's time for me to die, it's
my life, so let me live it like I
want to."
Music has a strange and powerful
ability to influence its listeners.
When I was going through my
metamorphosis into this new age, I
had Jimi telling me to, "Live my
life like I wanted to," while B. B.
King convinced me that the "Thrill
was Gone." Pretty confusing in
retrospect.
This "new era" ushered in an
age of "love" and
acceptance many had only dreamed
about. We were the counter-culture,
a society within a society. We were
a generation that was truly on a "Magical Mystery Tour." No one
knew where we would end up or where
the road would take us, and we
didn't care. We were true
existentialists, living our lives
without regard for any future
consequences, adopting a philosophy
of, "If it feels good do it!"
During this time of awakening most
of my experience came through a gang
I was in. My involvement with them
became more and more scary. I found
I was being groomed for a special
position. My role would be to
eliminate any undesirable elements
within the gang. I had just
received my first contract and was
given the rifle that would assist me
in my task. I was ready to go. The
place was all set up, but my target
never showed.
This failed assassination plot was
only one of the many criminal acts I
had been involved in over the years.
Running drugs out of Mexico into the
United States, providing protection
for the models in a pornography
ring, burglary, and extortion were
all a part of my growing résumé. In
fact a few weeks later I was
arrested for robbery while on tour
as the road manager of a
country-rock band. Up to this point
I had everything that I should have
needed to make me happy. But I
wasn't. I didn't need to rob the
store. I thought the excitement
might just fill the void.
There was an emptiness in me
crying out to be filled. I will
never forget being confronted by
seven cops with 12 gauge shotguns in
a restaurant in Cook County, IL.
After spending a week in their jail
and watching a prisoner in my cell
die from an epileptic seizure, I
waived extradition and was brought
back to Maryland.
I entered a plea of guilty and to my
surprise was released on my own
recognizance to await sentencing.
The police questioned me at length
about my involvement in the gang.
They told me some of the horror
stories about the "brotherhood" I
was involved with. The reality of
what I was becoming began to sober
me. I was becoming disillusioned in
preparation for the TRUTH.
During this time, a couple who
worked for the business I robbed,
also lived in my home. They were
running a covert operation for
God--they were praying for me. Scott
was the man who lived in my house. I
knew he and Karen were Christians
but the definition of what a
Christian was wasn't clear in my
mind.
Scott always seemed so happy or
peaceful, so one day I asked him if
he was taking a drug I hadn't heard
of yet. I was not prepared for the
answer he gave me.
"Yes, Jim, I take LJC every
day."
"What the hell is LJC anyway? I
never heard of that one," I
bellowed.
"Jim," Scott said, "LJC stands
for Lord Jesus Christ,
and he is better than any drug
you will ever take."
"Don't give me that Jesus
stuff," I snapped back, "I've
heard it all before. Christians
are nothing but a bunch of
hypocrites!"
"Jim, that may be partially
true, but don't judge Jesus
because we don't measure up to
his standard of perfection,"
Scott replied.
What happened next, I can only
describe as the divine intervention
of God. As I was turning to go away
to catch a buzz and go for a ride, I
found myself spin on my heel and ask
Scott when he and Karen were going
to church again.
He quickly answered, "tonight."
I could hardly believe the next
question that came out of my
mouth. "Scott, do you think it
would be cool if I go?" I don't
know who was the more surprised,
him or me.
The rest of that day I had the
feeling that my life was going to
change. I had a date with destiny
and my destiny's name was Jesus
Christ. As I listened to the little
gray-haired evangelist proclaim the
Gospel, (the good news of God's love
for me), it was better than a cold
glass of spring water after a hot
day in the desert. I had never heard
anyone say that we had to accept
Jesus as our Lord in order to get
the benefits of His glorious
salvation.
Ellen B., the Evangelist, said that
to simply acknowledge Jesus
intellectually as the Son of God
wasn't good enough. The demons did
that and trembled, but none of them
would be saved or end up in heaven.
You had to trust Him with your life. Jesus is either Lord of all or not Lord at ALL!.
The ride home found me in a daze. I
didn't know what was happening. It
was as if time was suspended. It was like the
whole universe awaited the answer to
some unasked question.
As I walked into the house Karen's
queries as to what I thought of the
service fell on deaf ears. Behind my
bedroom door a force greater than
anything I could have imagined was
waiting for me.
Many have suggested that what
happened next might have been the
result of residual hallucinogenic
drugs in my blood stream. From time
to time I've wondered myself, but I
do know one thing for certain--my
life has never been the same.
I closed the bedroom door behind me
and was overwhelmed with what I now
know was the presence of God. I
started to cry. I asked Him to
forgive me and accept my life
without reservations.
I don't believe the ceiling in my
bedroom actually disappeared, but it
did seem to become transparent. I
clearly saw the night sky. Then, as
if in answer to my plea, the stars
appeared, and transformed into the
face of Jesus.
There was no audible conversation or
dialogue, yet we communed together
throughout the night. What I remember
most vividly was His eyes. Not the
physical aspect. Instead, what I saw
inside His eyes. The external aspect
of my awareness vanished as I seemed
to be drawn inside of Him.
In His incredible light , I felt His
sorrow over my sin. I knew my sin
had caused Him to suffer great pain.
But I never felt any condemnation.
He returned forgiveness and
acceptance for my wickedness.
The majority of the time was spent
in releasing my guilt to Him. I knew
that He knew everything about me,
but He seemed to want me to let Him
see it all. It was as if my shame
could cover my sin from His sight,
but when I would let Him see all the
evil, guilt and pain, He was then
able to take it away from me. This
went on all night long and the
continual weeping seemed more like a
river of cleansing than a river of
agony. Sometime in the early hours
of the morning, I fell asleep for a
brief time.
When I awoke I felt as though I had
awakened for the first time. I was
so rested and full of peace. The joy
that filled my heart had me
literally doing cartwheels on the
sidewalk that day! I felt like I was
five years old and it was Christmas
morning. I felt different. I knew
what happened. I had become what
Christians commonly call
"Born-again."
St. Paul said that he had learned to
be content, no matter what situation
he was in. As I stood in front of
the judge awaiting sentencing, I was
preparing to find out exactly what
he meant. "Mr. Golden, do you have
anything to say before this court
passes sentence on you?" I had
rehearsed my speech over and over in
my mind. I knew exactly what I wanted to say,
but now that the moment of truth had
arrived it seemed too melodramatic.
"Your honor, if I told you there
are two forces in this
world—good and evil—trying to
gain control of our lives, you
might think I am crazy. So I
won't say that. I will say that
when a person is under the
influence of drugs I was using,
evil always has the upper hand.
What I did was wrong and for
that I am deeply sorry. I have
tried to make restitution and
completed a drug and alcohol
rehab course. Now I can do no
more than throw myself on the
mercy of the court."
As the final words dribbled down my
chin I braced myself for the worst.
"After reviewing your case
history, as well as your
pre-sentence investigation
report from the parole
department and your letters of
reference, I sentence you to
five years in the State Penal
Facility in Hagerstown."
Some of my new Christian friends
were sitting in the back of the
courtroom praying. The judge's
pronouncement released the cry,
"Jesus, O Lord Jesus, NO!"
"But," the judge continued, "I
am going to suspend four and a
half years of that and recommend
you for the work release
program."
Murmurs of "Thank you Jesus,"
and "Praise the Lord" filled the
back of the court room.
"You are to be remanded to the
Sheriff's custody and
incarcerated at the Seven Locks
County Correctional Facility
until such time as a
determination can be reached
regarding your eligibility for
the work release program. Your
release, and rehabilitation is
in your hands. I wish you luck
and hope you make the most of
the opportunity before you. A
great number of people have gone
to bat for you."
It was 1972, I was twenty-four years
old, a biker, and I had Jesus living
in my heart—not as bad a combination
as it might sound. One thing I
always hated as a biker was social
pretense. The main reason I never
continued to go to church from my
youth was the hypocrisy I saw in
those who did.
Hypocrisy is like alcoholism. It is
a disease. And, the ones who have
this disease not only won't admit
it, but don't believe they have it
in many cases. Hypocrisy is commonly
defined as saying one thing and
doing another but the religious
hypocrite is one who claims to live
and speak for Jesus, but wouldn't
recognize Jesus if He was standing
in front of them with a big name tag
on His lapel.
Just think about it for a minute.
Who did Jesus call hypocrites? It
was the "devout" or "religious"
leaders of His day. Scribes and
Pharisees were at the top of the
list. They claimed that they knew
and served God. Yet, they were
nothing more than self-appointed representatives.
It was the "religious" leaders that
were responsible for nailing Christ
to the cross. One of the main
reasons Jesus came was to restore
each individual person to their
Heavenly Father. Much of
Christianity actually hinders this
one-on-one relationship. It seeks to
complicate our Christian lives,
often making us feel we need someone
"smart" enough or "anointed" enough
to guide us in the right way. This
subtly suggests that Jesus can't
really do the job Himself.
If you are like I was, looking for
what will fill that empty space
inside, I will give you the words
Scott gave to me. I am so glad I
listened to them, and I hope you
will too.
"Jim...don't judge Jesus
because we don't measure up to his
standard of perfection."
Jesus loves
you and wants to be your friend and
Savior. The emptiness we all feel
inside is shaped exactly like Jesus
and nothing else can
fill it!
If Jesus is speaking to your heart
to let Him in, please don't turn
your back on Him. I implore you, be reconciled to God!. Praying is
talking, ask him to take charge of
your life—then tell somebody what
you have done and find others who
have asked Jesus to be their Savior
and Lord to hang out with. And most importantly ask Jesus to fill you with his Holy Spirit that you might have the ability to live for him.