Jerry Herbert, Director

The Corner In Jerry's Life

"Jerry, who are you serving?" His question hit right at my heart, and it ended up changing the direction of my life.

On that cold, Korean winter night we were sitting next to the kerosene space heater in the BOQ - "Bachelor Officers Quarters," for those who are not into military acronyms - and I was telling him my dreams. After I got out of the Army I told him I was headed for a career in politics. I explained that I had a five-year plan to get myself elected to Congress and I had dreams of eventually serving in the U.S. Senate. It was then that Byung-hoon asked me that question, and I was struck speechless. We both knew the answer I would have to give if I replied honestly, and we both knew it wasn't the right one.

Ahn Byung-hoon had become my closest friend since my arrival in Korea to serve with a Military Intelligence Battalion at I Corps headquarters in Uijungbu, less than half-a-dozen miles south of the DMZ separating North and South Korea. I had spent time in his home, gotten to know his extended family, and worshiped with him at the church where his uncle served as pastor. Both of us were recent college graduates serving in the military. It was our common evangelical faith that had drawn us together. And now his question, coming from his heart as friend to friend, reached out to hold me accountable to the faith we shared. For you see, I had made my plans apart from Christ. But, if the truth be known, it wasn't so much from rebellion as confusion.

I had grown up in a Christian home and attended Christian schools. I had just graduated from a church-related Baptist university in Southern California. To the best of my ability, I was committed to Christ and wanted to be a faithful Christian. I had also grown up in a home where political discussions at dinner were common. My father was a man of considered convictions and conservative commitments who stayed abreast of the events of the day. His frequent comments and reactions to events struck a cord with me and piqued my own interest in public affairs. But, frankly, I did not see how my personal faith in Christ could connect with my political interests, other than to stiffen my resolve to be a public servant of integrity. It was confusing to me because, by the time Byung-hoon asked me his question, I had read enough and had had enough undergraduate internship experiences to realize that political success meant following certain "rules of the game" that had little relationship to biblical faith and practice. So, when Byung-hoon asked me who all my political plans were serving, it seemed I faced an impossible crossroads. It seemed to me incomprehensible to try to serve my passions for political life and serve Jesus at the same time.

For months I was no longer sure who I was. My identify had always been in the plans I made and the future I envisioned for myself. Now I was struggling with a question that threatened those plans and that future. How could I forsake the future that was the desire of my heart? But even as I heard Byung-hoon's question, I knew I couldn't turn my back on Christ, my Savior. It took months of struggle, but in the end I did what I knew from the beginning I would have to do. I chose to give up the desires of my heart for Christ's sake.

After leaving the Army, I entered Duke University graduate school in political science. At least I could "keep a hand in" by teaching and studying politics, even if I couldn't do it. It was in graduate school that God's grace gave me a new, exhilarating answer to Byung-hoon's question.

On Sunday afternoons, following worship at a little Presbyterian church adjacent to the Duke University East Campus, a group of us graduate students would gather in one of our homes for lunch and discussion. I was invited by a fellow graduate student in political science. But others in the group were studying at Duke in history, chemistry, physics, literature and medicine. At first I was baffled by what occurred. These friends from church were talking, and often arguing, about the connection between our faith and their disciplines. I simply did not comprehend what the discussion was all about, or how to enter into it. So I listened, and read, and listened, and read some more. An amazing thing began to happen. God began to give back to me the desire of my heart; only now it was on his terms, not mine.

Through the minds and lives of those Christian friends, and with the help of such authors as C.S. Lewis and Francis Schaeffer, I began to understand that we could serve Jesus in political life just as thoroughly and effectively as we could serve him in churches or families. When this truth broke into my heart and intellect, I had an experience akin to what fellow believers in the Wesleyan tradition call "The Second Blessing." I experienced such an in-filling of God's spirit in love and joy that my whole outlook on my life in the world changed. My graduate study became an exciting adventure of discovery. Indeed, here at ASP I am still on that same road, discovering how serving Christ in every walk of life can actually be lived.

I have come to see that faithful politics means having to learn again and again how to approach public life from the perspective of God's intentions rather than from our ambitions, interests or ideologies. I have also come to realize that this is not an easy endeavor. It flies in the face of conventional wisdom and practice. But you need to know that I now hold that learning how to serve Christ in public life - in fact, in every walk of life - is an exhilarating and fulfilling adventure. I invite you to join with us at the American Studies Program in taking up this kind of adventure for your own walk in life.

Back to Faculty & Staff