You soon faced an even more painful ordeal, which, taken with these other experiences, not only prompted a reassessment of faith, it ultimately led you to embrace pain as one of the primary things God uses to lead us.
My mom died in a hit-and-run accident—a drunk driver struck her. Everything was torn apart because my mom was my best friend. I was forced to think again, even more deeply, about who I was and what my purpose on earth was. By then, I had begun to view myself as a business guy; I loved to think about ways to generate capital. My life was oriented around that goal. But at my mom’s funeral, as I sat in the front row and saw her in the casket, I felt God saying to me, “Your main ambition is to make a lot of money. I want you to focus on something more eternal. I want you to focus on making a difference in the lives of marginalized people—people like your mom.”
I gave my life to Christ that day to serve him in the ministry arena, but I went in kicking and screaming. I don’t gravitate to being in front of people. I like private conversations and hanging out at restaurants with friends.
Given your background, that new vision—reaching the fringe—made sense. But wasn’t it still somewhat at odds with your church experience?
Well, I did notice just how ethnocentric congregations were. I had grown up in a pretty homogeneous white church and went to megachurches that were all white. That always bothered me. Why was this going on?
Then I went to a Korean Church and quickly realized they had the same issues. If the truth were known, they’d hate it if their children married an African America guy—or, for many of them, even a white guy.
And I remember thinking, This isn’t the kind of vehicle that’s going to reach a diverse world.
The stage was set, but there was another piece of the puzzle: a transformative relationship.
I was part of a pilot group for Leighton Ford’s Arrow Leadership Program. He is an evangelist for the world, and he’s all about mentoring the next generation of leaders. He started seeing things in me, and was just a huge encouragement. When I graduated from the class he put his hands on my shoulders with tears in his eyes and he said, “Dave, God’s going to use you to impact the world and it is my privilege to pray for you.” He helped me see the world, and I felt the love of God through that expression of his love. He was like a father to me.
Not long after that I started Newsong Church. That was about 15 years ago.
Your selection of Irvine, Calif., as a location was part spiritual impulse—you felt divinely led—and part logical choice.
We had researched and walked cities, praying extensively. But when I came here I said, God, something’s right about this place. I felt there was a convergence of who I am. It’s kind of a pioneering, innovative area and it is very multicultural, multiethnic. It’s a gateway to the world, especially Asia, more so than any city in America. I felt something buzzing here and I didn’t want to miss out.
I think one of the particularly encouraging things about the story of NewSong is how the vision was embraced and encouraged by a couple existing churches in the area.
Both Mariners and South Coast Church wanted to help. We quickly outgrew our apartment as a meeting place and had to find an alternative. But we were still really short on resources, so we prayed that God would give us a free place to meet.
A little background: When we were in seminary, we didn’t have much money so I had prayed, “God would you provide a free place for us?” And He did—a free apartment in Dallas. I guess that emboldened me, because now I said, “God, how about a church?”
I had been introduced to Bob Shank who was the pastor of South Coast Church at that time. We were meeting together and he’d been such an encouragement to me in our new venture. One day he said, “Dave, I can’t give you any money, but I can give you something better than money.”
I said, “What could that be?”
He said, “Why don’t you go home and pray about that, then come back to me.”
So I came back and I said, “How about if we had a place to meet at your church on Sunday morning during prime time? Would you let us do that? And secondly, could we have offices here? And thirdly, could we interact with your staff and be mentored by them? And fourthly, could we partner with your children’s ministry?”
He looked at me and said, “No problem, Dave.”
I’ll never forget Bob Shank.