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A Brief Autobiography of My Faith |
by Roeben Shalom - May 30, 2024
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The first nine years of my life, I lived in a log cabin on the Pigeon Creek in southern Indiana, just 14 miles south of Gentryville, Indiana, where Abraham Lincoln moved to from Kentucky when he was seven years old and lived on the same Pigeon Creek for the next 14 years of his life. Of course, there was a 120-year gap between the times of our sharing what would become the famous Pigeon Creek, not because of me, but because of Mr. Lincoln.
Due to the rich deposits of coal, that part of southern Indiana had been open pit mined years before, leaving deep open canyons, many of them filled with deep lakes. As a young child, my mother would lead her four sons (of which I was the third), and her one daughter, through these canyons for what was probably at least a mile-long trek every Sunday morning to the little country church in Pelzer, Indiana. It was a Methodist Church. That was the introduction to my faith.
At about the ages of seven and eight, my brother Eddie and I were fascinated with two brother evangelists known as the Howard Brothers. They both exemplified the character of Christ more than anyone we had heretofore seen. We, at that young age, surrendered our lives to the Savior and were baptized in the pond near the church in Chandler, Indiana. It was truly a wonderful beginning to our spiritual journey.
At the age of nine my family moved to Arizona. We continued our Methodist faith through the writings of John Wesley and would eventually blend in with the Baptist religion. It was in the Baptist Church at the age of 15, during a week-long revival, I would hear the preaching of Lester Roloff in Phoenix, Arizona. He had evidently studied with the Seventh Day Adventists due to his deep knowledge of the prophecies of Daniel and Revelation. But more importantly, he opened my mind more fully to the spiritual birth, what Yahshua called the born-again experience.
Though I knew nothing of Seventh Day Adventists at that time, it was an excellent introduction to my encounter with them at the age of 26 in 1973 in Prescott, Arizona. This would be five years after my service in the US Army. When stationed in Hue/Phu Bai, Vietnam, I held prayer meetings and Bible studies in the supply tent, against my commanding officer’s wishes as he was an avowed atheist. (Hue is pronounced, “Way.”) I would later see that as prophetical.
The reason my fellow Christian soldiers wanted me to lead out in these meetings was due to some interesting occurrences. When our company first landed in Da Nang (1968) at around midnight, we were under enemy fire as the plane was landing. We had to all run for cover; none of us had yet been issued our rifles and for most of us, it was our first encounter with warfare. Not one of us were even injured. I now see that the hand of Yahweh was over us.
Our convoy in the back of two and a half ton military trucks from Da Nang to Hue was 57 miles. It took us about two hours to reach Hue. We were part of the 101st Airborne, and we were assigned to 20-man “hootches” (tents) to sleep in near the perimeter of our military outpost. We were hit at around three in the morning with grenades and machine gun fire. When I woke up in the morning, I was completely oblivious to the attack. I had slept like a baby through it all.
Things were blown up all around me and no one was around. When my fellow soldiers, who had spent the night in underground sandbag bunkers saw me up walking around surveying the destruction, they yelled for me to “get down into a bunker, that we were still under fire!” When they found out I had just awakened, they were incredulous and some of them began reasoning that the hand of the Almighty was definitely upon Brother Roeben. And I knew that it was.
I was warned to not be “too vocal” about my faith, that many soldiers in Viet Nam became casualties from so-called “friendly fire.” This warning became a turning point in my faith. Never before had I even considered being threatened for my stand, and rather than permit a spirit of fear to come over me, just like evangelist Lester Roloff who became a spiritual role model for me, I took on a spirit of holy boldness, and became very vocal for my belief in the Bible.
Our tent meetings were held every Friday evening, and our numbers grew from a handful to between 20-30 men. I could see how the Holy Spirit was moving in our midst and in my own life. Not only was my commanding officer an atheist, but many of my comrades were as well—many of them having college degrees wherein they learned the counter-creation story of evolution. They mocked my “belief in medieval fairytales.” This later became a blessing in disguise.
I recalled how, back in 1962, as a sophomore in high school, we were to receive our new “biology” books promoting and indoctrinating American students in this science fiction story. As a young Christian, I brought my Bible to school the day they were handing out the new books. As they were approaching my desk I stood up, making it clear to the class I already had the Authentic Book on the Origin of Species. Initially, some of the other students began booing me, and though I was very nervous, to say the least, to my amazement and joy and relief, another boy to my left stood up with his Bible also refusing the new book, and right after him a female student stood up with her Bible. We were all expelled from school that day. None of us knew each other, but we felt like the three Hebrew worthies cast into Nebuchadnezzar’s fiery furnace.
As mentioned earlier, I came into Seventh Day Adventism in 1973. That is when I first began keeping the true seventh day Sabbath. The following year an African American Brother introduced me to the divine name of Yahweh. In 1982, I was introduced to the concept of beginning the months by the sighted new moon crescent. It would be another decade before learning how to begin the year by the sun, moon, and stars according to Genesis 1:14.
With each advancing step upwards, I found myself becoming more isolated from the religious community. I found myself almost constantly facing debates and angry confrontations over my beliefs. I soon began to realize what the Messiah meant in (Luke 9:23 TLV). “Then Yeshua was saying to everyone, If anyone wants to follow Me, he must deny himself, take up his cross every day, and follow Me.”
I right away felt the burden of writing out (by hand) every challenge, taking it to prayer and deep Bible study to see whether my stand was tenable with Scripture or not. I determined to search for any and every flaw in my reasoning. I was willing to change my position if it could not be upheld by the written Word. I would read books written by those who opposed my position, engage in lengthy conversations (mostly monologues, as they thought themselves to be my teachers).
Eventually, I had accumulated boxes of handwritten notebooks full of these discussions. When I started writing out what seemed to me to be conclusive evidence of my beliefs, I found that for the most part, unlike myself, those who held opposing views, not only refused to read my findings, but even denigrated what I held dear to my heart. Then would come the infamous silent treatment, often for years and even decades. I remembered the words of Mohandas Gandhi: “The only reason I never became a Christian was because of Christians.” Of course, there were a few along the way, who were more considerate and respectful, and I am thankful for these dear souls.
Once, we were holding a feast of Tabernacles in a large barn on a friend’s farm in Tennessee, right alongside the Tennessee River. One man insisted on debating me over my belief in the sighted crescent moon beginning the month as opposed to his view on the invisible conjunction moon. I finally agreed to the debate. I did not know it was all set up with microphones and video equipment. My opponent stood behind his mike, and I chose to lower mine and stay seated. We were in front of a group of about 75 people. We started into the debate with him ridiculing my position with a raised voice. Soon a big dog wandered into the open door of the barn and came and sat down at my feet. Of course, I was petting his head while I responded in a still, small voice. When my time was up and the other gentleman began, immediately, the dog got up and walked directly toward him and continued barking until his time was up. Then, when it came my time to speak again, he would come back and lay down at my feet without making a sound. This went on for a full hour at least until the debate was over. The man yelled at the dog a couple of times but it didn’t deter him in his mission. It became quite hilarious and entertaining. Some of the people suspected me of training that dog to do that. I think I won the debate all because of that dog. HalleluYah!
Out of all the feast gatherings and open discussions I have ever been to, which have been many through the years, I must state for the record, there has been only one wherein everyone spoke with mutual respect and lovingkindness. That was Cisco, Texas, under the leadership of Voy and Ferris Wilkes. It was truly a breath of fresh air. Instead of growing further apart as it usually would go, we grew closer together. Truly a foretaste of heaven.
Over thirty years ago, I met my darling wife Matsayah Shevailin Shalom, my fellow warrior on the battlefield for Truth. She has proven time and again that two are better than one, for if one should fall, the other can lift him up. She has had to lift me up so many times, and I will praise the good Father above for her as the years of eternity roll. She is truly created in the likeness and the image of the sweet Holy Spirit. Our walk together has been the great blessing of my life.
Finally, Brother Tony Suckla, missionary to India, encouraged me to consider putting my writings into a website. Though I knew how to type thanks to my military training as a radio teletype operator, I knew nothing about computers. So, after making some mistakes, Yahweh answered our prayers and we learned of the computer skills of Tony’s tech-man Denzil Dias, dear Brother to the Faith. Another great step in the cause of the Everlasting Gospel of salvation.
Through it all, I can clearly see how the Almighty has led me on this fascinating and sometimes perilous journey in preparation for His glorious kingdom. It is my hope that one day, I and my sweet Matsayah shall stand on that shining Sea of Glass together with as many souls as we can possibly bring with us through our life of servitude to Him. May Yahweh Elohym be praised… through it all.
Roeben Shalom
