1 of 2
 A Long, Warm GlowA respected evangelical elder on the life of faith.
1 of 2
I met with Vernon Grounds the morning after his 65th wedding anniversary and the day he joined dignitaries in breaking ground for Denver Seminary's new campus. The years had taken a toll. He reached up now and then to adjust a hearing aid and rose slowly from his seat to answer the phone. His hunched posture belied a lifetime of working out with weights. "I have three secrets to longevity," he said as he turned 90: "God, genetics, and the gym." For 23 years, Grounds served as the seminary's president before retiring into the role of chancellor. He crisscrossed the country at a time when that meant three or four stops in propeller planes. He preached thousands of sermons and delivered thousands of lectures. He was a pioneer in Christian counseling as well as social activism. Along the way, he sustained fierce attacks from fundamentalist board members who scorned Billy Graham as a modernist and argued for strict separatism. "I still have a walking stick from those days," Grounds reminisced. "I used to take long walks, a couple of miles at a time, discussing my critics aloud with God." He knew the fundamentalist controversy well, having attended a seminary founded by the combative Carl McIntire. (Christian authors Joseph Bayly and Kenneth Kantzer were classmates.) It was there Grounds first heard the definition of fundamentalism as "too much fun, too much damn, and not enough mental." Over the years, Grounds's faith matured in a way that offered both hope and comfort to young seminarians. In his lectures and in personal counseling sessions, he told the honest truth about the ups and downs of life with God and with the church. Love is the key, he insisted. Jesus gave it as a command, not an option. We serve a God who even loves his enemies. I have heard many stories of how Grounds demonstrated that love by meeting weekly with troubled souls for 10, even 20 years. Through the windows outside his office, we watched a cluster of students walk from a classroom to the library, bundled against the wind on a cold, drizzly day. "So many of these students seem concerned about sensing the presence of God," Grounds said. "They expect to live in perpetual sunshine. When a student tells me about an unsatisfying spiritual life, I point them to others, such as Henri Nouwen, who struggled with the same problem. Or Lewis Smedes, who never really felt he was God's friend. "We shouldn't expect a relationship with God to be on a constant plane all the time. Believe me, over 65 years of marriage, you don't stay on a plane of ecstasy all the time. Romance started for me as a blazing bonfire—you know, 'You light up my life.' After a few decades, it settled into something more like a heap of glowing coals. Sure, some of the heat dissipated, but coals are good, too: You can roast marshmallows, warm your feet. A different level of companionship opens up." |             |
share this page
