I remember your genuine faith, for you share the faith that first filled your grandmother Lois and your mother, Eunice. And I know that same faith continues strong in you. -2 Tim. 1:5, NLT; words in bold, mine

There was a spiritual strength and stability that my grandparents on my mom’s side brought to our family just by their proximity.

My mom’s mom watched me frequently. I have memories of her reading stories like Angus and the Ducks and poems like Wynken, Blynken, and Nod. She took me blueberry picking, to feed the ducks, and swimming at the YMCA. In the late sixties and early seventies, it was a less dangerous world in small town Millville, NJ. For instance, at five[1] and accompanied solely by my next-door neighbor friend who was only a few years older than me, my grandma gave me some change to walk to the 7-Eleven to get penny candy. My favorites were the Pixie Stix, Smarties, Squirrels, and Mary Janes.

I was involved in special holiday programs at the St. Paul’s Evangelical Lutheran Church where my grandfather pastored for 15 years. Since our family would often share a meal together on Sundays, it was easy to go to church together. This enabled my mom to continue as a member at St. Paul’s, which is also where she and my dad had been married. In fact, in those early days, even my dad would sometimes attend. That all stopped, however, when I was six and my grandfather accepted a call to a new church in North Arlington, NJ.  He did so for good reasons but the loss of my mom’s parents was sorely felt. As Eberstadt’s research shows: “detachment from those people most closely related to oneself” equals less God. In our case, it’s not like they took God with them out of the area, but there was definitely a healthy spiritual influence that was lost.

As my mom recalls, when “they left, I lost, not only my mom and dad but also my whole church family—fifteen years of spiritual community. At St. Paul’s, I had lots of spiritual moms and dads and now I was at a loss.” Added to this, my grandfather desiring to avoid any potential factions resulting from those that might not follow the new minister due to loyalty to the previous pastor, suggested that, when he and my grandmother left, my mom leave too.

As unnecessary and misplaced as this caution probably was, it left my twenty-seven-year-old mom largely alone geographically in her desire and struggle to retain church as a priority. A Lutheran “PK” at heart, she began attending Christ Lutheran ten minutes away in Bridgeton, NJ. Although fuzzy, I have positive memories of the pastor there who I’ll call Pastor L. During communion at Christ Lutheran, children were welcomed up front, although they could not partake of the elements. Pastor L was kind and made me feel safe. When it came my turn to see Pastor L, he would put his hand on my head and say some nice things about blessing and then give the adults in line a funny-looking white wafer and drink. My mom came to have a slightly different take on Pastor L. Although she liked him as a person, he didn’t make her feel safe and began to seek out her company more and more. She also later told me that Pastor L struggled with alcoholism and was eventually set up by a few of his parishioners. They encouraged him to drink too much in what he thought was a safe setting and then used his intoxicated state as evidence to oust him. All this—her discomfort with his advances and the unchristian way certain prominent members took advantage of his addiction—made her decide to leave.

Still feeling lost without her parents nearby yet knowing she needed to go someplace, she called my dad’s oldest sister to see if she could go with her. At my aunt’s church, First Methodist., they were studying The Late Great Planet Earth by Hal Lindsay.[2]  My mom recalls hating it because it seemed like science fiction and didn’t gel with the rest of what she knew about the Bible.

The experience at Christ Lutheran and First Methodist, following my grandparents move, represents an unsettled, and transitional time in our family’s—particularly my mom’s—faith journey. And unfortunately, after this, things only went from bad to worse. The larger point in all of this; however, is to illustrate the “family is a conduit to faith” side of Eberstadt’s Double Helix research and, especially, this primary insight related to the verse above: It’s harder to make investments in a way that “faith continues strong” when your “genuine faith” is rarely seen or lives far away. Although there are many legitimate reasons and circumstances that cause families to move away from each other (more on that next week), geographic distance does affect influence and involvement. The Double Helix of faith and family is real and is one of the factors that contributed to my mom’s lack of spiritual support and vulnerability to the cult-like place we ended up at next, Berachah Bible Baptist Church.[3]

Next week, we’ll make some important caveats about Eberstadt’s double helix of faith and family.

[1] I was only three in the picture to the right.

[2] The Late, Great Planet Earth by Hal Linsey was a popular 1970’s book that later became a film. It represents a literal, dispensational end times perspective. Dispensational theology emphasizes the distinct separation of Israel from the church and a pre-tribulational, secret Rapture.

[3] See my four-part series: How I Became a Christian Despite the Church and How to Avoid Toxic Leaders and Churches.