Brian: It’s really good to understand how much God loves us and what extreme measures he will take to give us the opportunity for salvation. My name is Brian Oliva, and this is my wife Janice. Janice has been a disciple for over 21 years. I’ve been “around” the church for over 21 years, but I’ve been a disciple for just twelve.
In Acts 17 verse 26 it says that God determined the times set for us, and the exact places we should live. In 1982, in Lynn, Massachusetts, God made some innovative arrangements for my wife Janice and me to be met. At 3:00 in the morning one summer night, a car lost control, went off the road and struck the house across the street from our apartment building. The car went under their porch, and punched a hole in the foundation wall and disappeared into the basement of the house. We heard the crash, but couldn’t really see anything from out 3rd story balcony because the car was in the basement.
The man next door, who was not a disciple, ran to the basement thinking his furnace has exploded (the car did miss a gas line by inches.) He was very surprised when he got to the basement to find headlights glowing through the dust. (The drunk who was driving, was sleeping peacefully at the wheel and never knew what happened.) Our neighbor went outside through the hole at about the time the police arrived.
When he tried to go back inside to get his family out, the police tried to restrain him. Both sides were excited and not listening real well. He tried to explain to the police that his family was still inside. They ignored him and tried to push him away. He resisted, struggled with the police, and in a barrage of obscenities got himself arrested and carted off to jail.
Janice: A few days later at a neighborhood convenience store, I overheard a man talking about the accident. I realized it was the man who had been arrested. We started talking and he told me how he was arrested for assaulting a police officer and that they denied him ever saying he had to go back in for his family. When he realized I had witnessed everything, he wanted to know if we would be willing to be witnesses at his trial. I agreed, but the case was thrown out of court before a trial date could be set, but that’s how we met our neighbors--- by accident.
As it turns out, the man’s wife was a disciple and invited me to a Bible Talk. But before I go on, let me give you a little of my background.
I was raised in the Greek Orthodox Church in a loving home with both my mother and father, and although I was an only child, I had lots of aunts, uncles and cousins, and many friends that were part of our lives, so I was always surrounded by love.
I was really never seeking God or a church because I always thought I knew him. When I was in high school, I taught “Sunday School” and sang in the church choir. In fact, I would leave my parents in bed and walk to church alone. I believed in hell but really thought only rapists, murderers, or the mafia would go there.
When I was 16, my father died, and although that changed my life, it never made me bitter toward God. However by the time I was 18, I was in college and too busy for God. But because I had never had a real knowledge of the Bible, I thought my love for God was enough.
I pretty much escaped the 60’s without entering the “drug culture,” but that didn’t mean I was without sin. I told “little white lies” to get myself out of trouble. I had all the “heart” sins, like fits of rage, envy, anger, impatience, and all the sins you could “hide.”
When I graduated from college, I moved to California to have “fun” before I settled down. But in 1973, God led me back to Boston. I began to work as a Social Worker and was determined to return to California, but God had other plans. In 1975 I met Brian, and in 1977 we were married.
In 1979, we had our first child, Christine. Things were pretty much on track and I was happy. I still was not seeking God because I really had no “void” in my life at that time, and I thought I was saved. I quit my job to stay at home and everything was great. Then in 1982, that accident changed my life forever. I could never imagine what was in store, but God had visions for us when we had none.
I was first invited to a day time women’s Bible Talk that was led by Lisa Johnson. I was lured there by the promise of donuts, coffee, and free baby sitting-- very noble. The topic was sins (Galatians.) When we reached the part that said “fits of rage” were a sin, I raised my hand and asked “What do you mean having a fit of rage is a sin? If that's true, then why did God make Greeks?” At that point, she said politely in her best southern accent, “We need to study, sometime.” This began the endless days and nights of digging into the Bible and questioning the beliefs I had had since I was a child.
After seven months of studying and going to church, I was baptized. Basically, an accident saved me in spite of myself. God knew what I needed and sought me.
I’ve never regretted the road I chose. In the early days of my conversion, the church had so much vision and so many dreams. I was blessed to be a part of it. I was blessed to be chosen by God even when I did not seek him.
I have seen many changes in the church over the years, but I consider it to be a privilege and an honor to be part of it and to know and love all of you.
It’s been quite a ride on that road, but I’ve seen my entire family become disciples: My husband, my mother who died in the Lord last year, and my two children Christine (who was baptized in 1995 and is now part of the Chicago church) and Michael (who was baptized in 2000 and is now starting out in the Campus Ministry here.)
How can I repay God for all that? For a life so perfect and full of love, there aren’t enough words, so I’ll just say “thank you!”
Brian: I was brought up in central Massachusetts by my grandparents, and was raised Roman Catholic. I was baptized as a baby, served as an altar boy, and was confirmed around age 12 in the traditional manner. But in spite of a wonderful religious and loving background, as I got older, I found the Catholic Church to be lacking, basically lost interest, and just stopped going to church around the age of 14 (1969.) My life was typical of a teen in small town America in the 70’s--- although I was a “good kid” it didn’t stop me from sampling petty theft, drinking, smoking, drugs, and sex. I graduated high school in 1973 and moved to the city to start my career at GE.
The next time I set foot in a church (excluding family visits at Christmas) was in 1977 for our wedding. We had our “Big Fat Greek Wedding” in the Greek Orthodox church. It was a great (if not somewhat cryptic ceremony) and the experience was enough to last me several more years. By the time we met our neighbors in 1982, we had a 3 year old baby daughter, Christine, and it seemed like a good time to settle down.
Several months after Janice started going to the Bible Talks, she finally talked me into going with her. It seemed harmless enough, and it was interesting to start looking at the Bible, really for the first time. I went to a “bring your neighbor day” service at Arlington High School and heard Kip McKean preach for the first time. I had never seen a church service like that before, and was deeply convicted. After studying for a couple more months, I was baptized into the Boston church.
But like the seed in Matthew 13:5-6, “some fell on rocky places where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched and they withered because they had no root.”
After being in the church for only three months, I realized I still had a considerable amount of sin that I was not yet willing to repent of, and decided that instead of being a hypocrite, I would stop coming until I was prepared to give God the attention he deserved. It’s interesting that even during that dark time, I realized that it was me that was the problem, and not God, or the Boston church.
Time passed. In 1985 our son Michael was born. I was still on my sabbatical from God. In mid 1990, after being shuffled around several times due to “rationalizing resources” and consolidating departments as GE continued to downsize, it became apparent to me that we would have to move to Ohio if I were to have any chance of keeping my job. Janice prayed and prayed for something to come up that would enable us to stay, but unbeknownst to her, God already had other plans.
We moved to Milford in the summer of 1991. Jan immediately hooked up with the Cincinnati church which at that time was being led by Curt Simmons. Now being transplanted to the Midwest, with our first house and a 12 year old and a 5½ year old and a fresh start, I decided it wouldn’t do me any harm to start attending church again.
But I was still carrying a lot of baggage, and at best could be described as lukewarm. God seemed to still be out there, but I was still struggling with conviction. I wasn’t energized. I was just sitting on the fence watching the world go by.
And that’s when God gave me just what I needed. Tomm Wilson. Tomm came to Cincinnati from Champaign, Illinois and started leading the Cincinnati church in 1992. If you know Tomm, he’s a big, hard headed, soft hearted, football playing fool for Christ.
Tomm knew exactly what I needed. In a series of hard line studies, he helped me confront and confess my sin and push it into the past. He helped me see clearly what things in my life I had to change. He kicked down and trampled my fence, and tossed me out of the fires of hell and into the cooling waters of baptism. On June 29, 1992 as midnight approached, I was baptized for the third and last time. It was Tomm’s first conversion in Cincinnati, and God willing, my last.