423: Let the Redeemed of the Lord Say So | +Quigg Lawrence

Introduction

Well, good morning, friends. So great to be with you. I just want to tell you something. I believe in the power of prayer. Was it two weeks ago, three weeks ago, my wife went to the Steinwegs for prayer. She said, hey, my husband, after four ablations, it’s been hard trying to get in with this world-famous doctor. He's known to be the best in the world. And it's like an eight-month waiting list. That was on Sunday. The next day, we get a call from his office and said, hey, you're not gonna believe this, but you should buy a lottery ticket. You just got a place, you're coming December 4. Thank you, guys, for praying. God heard your prayer, amen.

Testimony and the Power of Sharing

So today I’m going to share my testimony, but my hope would be that, at the end, you wouldn’t go, what a rotten scoundrel Quigg was or is, but you go, what a great God we have. That’s the point of a testimony. Not to us, not to us, but to your name be the glory. And maybe there’ll be points where you can identify. I understand not everyone has a sex, drugs, and rock and roll testimony, and I give God thanks for that.

Really, the pattern in Scripture is that from infancy, we raise our children to know and love the Lord, and service him with a glad heart. That’s really, you know, faith from the grandparents to the parents to the children—will promise—and that child will grow up knowing the Lord, knowing his word, and one day say, yes, I receive the gift.

And so not everybody has the same story. My twin sister, she like me was a sinner. If you want to think of being a bank robber, I robbed 100 banks; she only robbed two. She was not nearly as obvious a sinner. She also came to Christ at UVA. She said one day, Quigg, I don’t understand. You had this dramatic Damascus Road experience where the Lord did all kinds of big, flashy things. She said, mine wasn’t like that. And she goes, well, how come you got all that? I said, sis, because I was stubborn and I needed all that. And I said, you were more open, more tender to the things of the Lord, so you didn’t need a two-by-four, Roman candles—you just needed Jesus.

So wherever you are, everyone has a story, every Christian has a testimony. But before we get into that and share some funny pictures, I’m really hot. Are you all hot? Is this because I’m wearing the Santa outfit? Are you hot? It’s always fun to ask. Are you hot? No? Okay. Perfect.

The Power of Testimony and Scripture Foundations

I want to anchor the testimonies in three scriptures. The first one is Psalm 107 verse two. I actually learned this from Young Life. Yeah, Young Life. I didn’t learn it from the church—I did learn it from Young Life. At the end of every week, they have all the kids that have received Christ, who’ve come from darkness to light. They’re all in an amphitheater and they say, hey, no pressure. But if the Lord has saved you this week or the Lord has won you to himself and you’ve received the gift, we'd love for you to stand up and say so.

And the scripture says,

Let the redeemed of the Lord say so, Whom he has redeemed from trouble. — Psalm 107:2

You see, in the church, it seems we only have two varieties of Christians: those who never shut up and talk religion all day long, and then most of us are clams. We’re saved, we know the Lord, and we’re all unashamed. But we won’t even tell our best friends about what the Lord’s done with us. So we are moved by Psalm 107 to say so: say what the Lord has done.

The next scripture is 1 Peter 3:15. It says,

Always be prepared to make a defense to anyone who asks you for the reason for the hope that is in you.
Yet do it with gentleness and respect. — 1 Peter 3:15

It says, if anyone asks you, so maybe you don’t go to Kroger and try to nail everybody in the meat department, okay? But when somebody asks you, be ready to tell them what the Lord has done. Give a reason. And if you go, well, I’m not like Tim or some of these guys who know all this theology, well, you do know this: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again. It all hinges on his resurrection from the dead. Did he defeat sin and death? Was he truly God? It all depends on the resurrection. So always be prepared to give a defense to anyone, but do it with gentleness and respect.

And the third scripture is John 9—a man born blind, and the Pharisees are trying to get this guy to turn against Jesus. They say this,

So a second time they called for the man who had been blind, and they said, ‘Give glory to God, for we know this man Jesus is a sinner.’
And the man who had been blind but now could see said, ‘Well, here’s the thing: whether Jesus is a sinner or not, I don’t know. All I do know is that I used to be blind and now I see.’ — John 9

It’s powerful. You don’t have to out-argue people. Just tell the truth. Don’t embellish it; just tell the truth.

So we’re going to do a say so. We’re going to give a reason for the hope that lies within, and we’re going to say, I know Jesus is not a sinner, but I also know I was blind, and now I see—that’s all him. It’s all him. It’s all him.

Personal Show and Tell

Let me start with some show and tell. Do we have some slides?

Now, you see the boy with the big ears, the saucer cups there? You might have thought it was Marco Rubio—it's not, it’s actually me. Those are my ears. My ears are big, and I could hear really well back in the day. And what else do you notice about this picture? My mom liked to dress us. We’re twins, if you didn’t notice that. She liked to dress us in little sailor suits. Yeah. So that’s me, and I look like a happy kid. Probably at that point, I was fairly happy in life. Life, the flesh, and the devil had not beaten on me too hard. I was happy, didn’t know much.

Next slide, please. Oh, yeah. So you probably can't see this, but my mom’s still dressing us in these little outfits. Dudes don’t wear outfits, okay? Just want to say dudes don’t wear outfits. But this is Easter, we’re at Virginia Beach. This is a little extra—first service didn’t get that. My dad’s bluegrass band was playing there the same weekend that the Jefferson Airplane was performing. And I got to meet Grace Slick in the elevator. How cool is that at age five? That’s pretty cool. But before we got there, I ran into the front steps. I did this little ritual every day where my mother would time me with a timer. I’d run out to get the paper. See, we didn’t have many toys or whatever—were poor kids living in the country. I’d run out to the newspaper; my mother would time me. My time kept getting better, but I hit a wall. And we saw the Olympics—we’d seen the Olympics—and I noticed that all the runners did the same thing. What do they do right before they get to the tape? They lean forward. Right? So, forward, quicker time. So I thought, well, let’s just do that getting the newspaper. And I did, but my worn-out PFC Flyers were slick on the bottom. And I did a direct face plant at about 40 miles an hour right into the front brick steps. I’m going to tell you, I don’t care how hard you’ve been hit—I don’t think anybody’s been hit harder than a brick step at full speed. It was awful, awful, awful. I can tell you, while I have a smile on my face, my parents’ marriage at that point was starting to come undone. It was starting to not be pretty.

Next slide, please. What a cherub. Now, there’s a lot good about this. My mom loved me. I’ll just say, no parents are perfect, and we should not expect our parents to be perfect because we’re not perfect. But there was a lot of love there, and there was also a lot of hurt. At this point, what do you see on my face? Smile. And when you see a smile, you know somebody’s happy. Well, except for—we weren’t—because our home was no longer a home; it was a war zone. It was a war zone with a dad who struggled with a lot of stuff. And it, like addiction does, just goes down, down, down. Like adultery, it just goes down, down, down. And then when you’re walking in darkness, you don’t like the light. Not making light of the dead, but my dad’s treatment of my mom went down, down, down. It was terrible.

Now, it had an effect. It had an effect. For one, I mean, this one’s kind of funny—I wet my bed till I was about 10 or 11. How embarrassing when you go to Boy Scout camp or whatever and you’re wetting your bed. But I never put it together—the reason, part of it was I drank too much. But another part of the reason is just trauma, just trauma. Our home was a place of trauma. And my mother loved us through it the best she could. But anyway, she took us to church because that’s going to make you happy. And I actually didn’t just go to church—I served in church. I was an acolyte. I’ve been wearing one of these dresses since I was about 10 years old. And our home was a wreck, but the head pastor there was a sweet man—a godly man. And he loved on me and said, hey, just I want you to serve as an acolyte—any week, you’ll do it. So, three or four weeks a year, I was there. But I got to tell you, just like a smile doesn’t always mean you’re happy, being in the church and even wearing robes and having a role doesn’t mean that you know Jesus because I didn’t. Nobody connected the dots. And so there we were, and my mother took us here and there. We even went to some cultish-looking thing, searching for what we didn’t find in our own church. We were looking, looking, and the lug nuts started to come off.

Next slide, please. There you go. That actually was my last cigarette. I hate cigarettes. My mom was smart. She says, smoke a whole pack up—I don’t know how many I smoked, maybe two—down to the nub. Then I started throwing up and decided I’d never smoke a cigarette again.

Next slide, please. Yeah, so you see this thing is progressive—not that I mean Jesus had long hair, so I’m not busting on people with long hair. But you can already tell, what’s between my cheek and gum? A dip. Yeah, dip. If you don’t know what it is, look it up. It was a dip, and that was at a grain alcohol party. I thought I was God’s gift to everything. You know, people that are hurting generally move towards achievement or some type of notoriety. Why did I become an Eagle Scout at age 13? Good question. Why did I become social chairman of all the fraternities at UVA? Good question. I was looking for something to make me important, to feel important, to feel loved, and to make sense of the craziness. Yeah, lost people do lost people things. Do you hear me? Lost people do lost people things.

And I keep getting reminded from God’s Word that actually the church should not judge non-Christians. Oh, and I love to do it—one of my favorite sports. But the Bible says do not judge. Let judgment begin with the household of God. And actually, remove the beam from your own eye, then you can see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. It all starts with me. And then it starts with the church. Lost people do lost people things. Let’s give them a couple more from Mr. Jefferson’s University.

Now, I realize that looks like a sea of upstanding fine gentlemen—I can assure you, that’s not true. But if you go to the middle about a third the way up, you see a guy that looks like John Bellucci. He was. Just to his right, you’ll see a guy with a big smile and longish hair parted in the center—that would be your pastor. And the guy right beside me is Ron Susskind, who won the Pulitzer Prize. But the point is, this was my life. This is what I lived for. And the lug nuts just kept coming off, coming off, coming off. That was on the front page of the fraternity section of the 1978 Cork and Curl UVA yearbook—you can look it up. The next year, we had this picture on the cover of the fraternity page.

Now, this one I’m wearing pajamas. As I joked a couple of weeks ago, this is the last pair of pajamas I’ve ever bought. It actually had little kitty cats on there. I was wearing a tie because I went to Mr. Jefferson’s University, where gentlemen are gentlemen. But also, what do you see in my hand? A cup. What do you reckon is in that cup? We’re way past that, come on y’all. I mean, that’s just warm-up stuff. That’s grain alcohol—cup six or seven. Yeah, and that wasn’t the most in a day. Not bragging, I just say, when the lug nuts start coming off, they keep coming off.

And what I have to say is, in spite of all the tomfoolery—and a lot of it I couldn’t show you because it doesn’t have to do with alcohol. There are other things. Satan has other pitches besides alcohol. Those I can’t show, and I don’t want to say in church anyway. But I know this: our God is so good at using situations that look hopeless, and then at the last second, doing a reverse Nelson and bringing victory. Kinda like when He put Jesus on the cross. It looks like it’s all lost—the Savior of the world is being crucified. And yet, He raised Him from the dead.

So the Lord actually, at this time where I was doing everything I could—kind of like King Solomon said, I denied myself no pleasure. It actually says this in Ecclesiastes: I denied myself nothing my eyes desired. Refused my heart, no pleasure. Anybody live there? And let’s be honest, anybody living there? You know, you can get saved and still want to go back, like a dog returning to its vomit. So, a fool returns to his folly. I know because I’ve done it.

But I realized, the smartest man in the world, the wealthiest man, says, I denied myself no pleasure; I refused my heart no pleasure. But at the end, did he say? What did he say about eat, drink, and be merry—anything to make yourself happy? What did Solomon say about it? He said, yes, hevel. He said, always vanity and a striving after the wind. In other words, it doesn’t work. That’s the thing: you should be mad that Satan is stealing your life from you. These are trinkets—they’re fool’s gold. Proverbs 14 says,

There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end, it leads to death. — Proverbs 14:12

Let me tell you something: I had an awesome time my first two years in college. Wide open, no rules, do whatever you want. And I thought it would continue that way forever. But it didn’t. And as I just went off to eat with the pigs—more and more—I started to realize I’m lonely. I don’t know why I’m on the planet. I’m sad. But hey, I’m the fraternity guy. I work for Anheuser-Busch, too. I’m Mr. Funny Guy, whatever. But I was miserable, lonely, isolated. And I didn’t know anybody who was a believer at UVA. Well, I knew there were some campus crusaders, but sorry, crusaders—that’s not a good label for me—I was so lost I didn’t like crusaders. I’d see the crusaders coming and I would pretend I was reading my chemistry book or something. I just didn’t want to deal with them. I didn’t really have any Christians I liked or knew.

And so it looked like I’m just a lost man, denying myself no pleasure. But you know what the Lord is working—just like He’s working on some of you right now. And it may not be drugs or alcohol because Satan’s got other pitches. But He’s trying to humble you so you will come to the end of yourself. He's trying to free you from idolatry. And so sometimes, the Lord will give you just enough rope that you can hang yourself so He can come cut it and you can be free. And so, the Lord did that. He allowed me to get absolutely miserable. I don’t know what it’s like to be Jeff Bezos or that other guy—Gates, Elon Musk—I don’t know what that’s like. But I know this: without Christ, it counts for nothing. It’s monopoly money, and it will not satisfy the deepest longing of any man or woman’s heart.

The Conversion and New Life

And so the Lord was at work. Okay, so then—I gotta speed up. I’m lost; I don’t know any Christians. And I started to feel pain—pain. And then, when I realized that I couldn’t do enough of the devil’s lettuce to numb the pain and I couldn’t drink—I tried. I tried. I couldn’t drink enough to numb the pain. I couldn’t smoke enough to numb the pain. I couldn’t have enough sex to numb the pain.

I was really depressed because, where else do you go about that time? God sent somebody that I could actually hear from. If He’d sent a crusader, I wouldn’t have heard from him. Sorry, love you guys—you have your role, but it wouldn’t work for me. I needed a guy I trusted, someone who was not a freak—like too religious. I needed to hear from a man who was like me. So, God sent my friend Mo Gill. Mo Gill had long blonde hair, he was a surfer. We did a lot of bad things together, if you know what I mean.

The last time I saw Moe Gill, he was at a bar called Chicho’s. We went there—I think every Wednesday and Thursday—because you get a shot in a draft for a dollar. You know, for about $7, you could have a pretty good evening. Moe apparently had $10 that night. I remember seeing two Virginia Beach policemen hauling him out of the bar, and you’d think at that point he’d be humble. No, he saluted them with his middle finger.

So that’s August. At Christmas, I see Moe Gill—his hair is no longer long, it’s not really blonde anymore; he’s in a different city. I hardly recognize the man. And I thought it was all about sun and long hair, but it wasn’t that at all. It was about the change that had happened inside. And I saw Moe at a debutante party, and I walked over with a glass in my hand. I said, Hey, Moe, I hardly recognize you. He goes, Hi, Quig. How you doing, buddy? And I said, Oh, I’m fine, Moe. I’m fine. And Moe said, I just gave my life to Christ.

And I mean, that’s so weird—I didn’t know what he was talking about. Well, I was like, sure, you’re an Episcopalian, right? You go to church about 10 times a year. But then he kept going. He said no, no, I have a personal relationship with the Lord. And then I had this dread come over me like, oh no, the aliens have gotten my best friend. But you know, I was so broken inside, and I saw in him faith. I saw in him peace. I saw in him joy and love—and I didn’t have it.

Moe said, “Shut up and don’t preach at me.” Moe goes, and he gets a book from his car. It was the book that led him to Christ, called Basic Christianity. He said, I want you to read this. This is my gift to you. It’s the only copy I got. This changed my life. Read it. Then we went on, and he never said another word. So I went for the next six weeks—one night I would read, well, I read Basic Christianity first. It’s an awesome book. It explains the basics of who Christ is, why He came, why He died on the cross, counting the cost of being a Christian. How do you become a Christian? How do you live as one? So I read the book; it was awesome. And then I had a children’s Bible, and one night I would read it for an hour, maybe two hours, because I wasn’t doing it for anyone’s approval. I was doing it because I was like a dead bush with a couple leaves on it. I still looked alive, but I wasn’t.

And I was thirsty for the living God, but I didn’t know it. And so, every night, every other night—I’d read, weed, Bible, weed, Bible. And you judge me, but I don’t care because I was just trying to find truth in life. So I was just about ready to go all in, but then I realized I’m afraid to be a Christian. I don’t know any Christians that I don’t think are freaks—except Moe. And it’s like, Lord, I know I’ve made a train wreck of my life, but I’m still a captain.

And so, He allowed more pain—more pain, more pain. After about six months, I was stubborn. I started to realize I’m driving myself off the cliff. A bunch of my lifeguard buddies said, Hey, we’re gonna go to a bar in Norfolk. I said, I’ll go. We hit the devil’s lettuce all the way there, did this. And then next thing I know, I wake up—it’s 5:30 in the morning. My friends are gone, I don’t have a penny, and I’m laying next to somebody I don’t even know their name. I’m pretty sure nothing happened because I was too drunk. My head was killing me. And I said, You’re such an idiot—I’m not trying to be polite. I said, Quig, I was so filled with shame because I started to taste and see that the Lord was good. And yet I was so fearful of handing over control that I just refused to jump.

But then, I had to ask this girl, who I didn’t even know her name, hey, you, would you mind giving me bus fare? Because all my friends left me. All I remember is I was on the back of a bus, and I don’t think they cleaned the restroom very often. I was in the back seat, and the diesel fumes were rolling in. I was about to throw up in the back of this disgusting bus. And at that moment, shame poured over me—just like the devil poured it on. I said, Lord, I’m so afraid. I’m so afraid to give You control of my life. I don’t know how much worse it’s got to be, Lord. I mean, I’m driving the plane into the mountain, and I’m still afraid to do this.

And then I said, Lord, I’ve been reading Your Word, at least every other night. I’ve been reading Your Word, and it says—while we’re yet sinners, Christ died for us. All our righteous deeds are like filthy rags. I said, Lord, do You know all about me? Do You know where I was last night? You know how I’ve tried to compensate and be this and that? I’m just afraid, Lord. I’m afraid.

So there I am in the most obnoxious, smelly place with the worst hangover. I said, Lord, I don’t know what this’s going to look like, but I know I can’t keep doing this. It’s killing me. It’s killing me. I can’t do it. I’m more afraid of what my life will be with me driving than finally opening my hands.

And so I prayed. I didn’t know the sinner’s prayer—I just started praying as a sinner. I said, Oh, Lord, would You wash me? Would You cleanse me? Would You come into my life? Show me how to walk with You. I don’t know how, but Lord, I know You’re true. I know You were raised from the dead. And I know apart from You, there is no life—just Hollywood set life, not real life. And so, that day I bowed my head, I called upon the name of the Lord. I said, Lord, I’m all Yours. I’m all in. I started to cry and weep. And then I know God doesn’t always do this, but He sent His Spirit. And, like, for the first time ever, I was at peace. I wasn’t performing; I wasn’t trying to get You to like me. I could rest. And just as a gift, the Lord took my hangover away. I was like, Praise God.

Conclusion

What’s your story? We had one lady this morning say, you know, I don’t know if I’m going to heaven or hell. I think the better question would be, do you know Christ? Have you surrendered and allowed Him to be your Lord and Savior? It’s not about what you feel or think—maybe I think, maybe I feel. It’s the truth of His Word. He wants you to be His son or daughter.

And if you’ve been living with the pigs—so is your bishop. And you know what? I didn’t have to ask the Lord twice—just once. I made the call, and He answered. And I watched Him work, from that moment on. Even though I didn’t have Christian friends, He brought people into my life. We started a Bible study, then another, then I went back to church, and they received me with open arms. I kept reading the Scriptures, and I kept falling deeper in love with Christ.

And then I began to open my mouth and say so. Friends, I want you to be unashamed. If you’re a child of God, be unashamed of it. Know that you might be the one God could use to speak to that friend no one else could reach. God has been so good and so kind; I stand unashamed of Him and His mercy.

And at the end of the day, it’s not about how we got here. We’re all bank robbers—if you didn’t live that way in college, great. Maybe you only robbed two banks, and I robbed 100. But we’re all felons, all sinners; we all miss the mark. We need a savior.

So whatever your story—whether it’s a Damascus Road experience or a gradual coming into relationship with Christ—it doesn’t matter. The reality is it’s Christ that’s the prize. It’s not how you get there. If you just need a nudge, He’ll give you a nudge. If you need a jackhammer, He’ll put a jackhammer at your back, because He loves you.

Let me pray for you as we close: Father, we thank You for Your pursuing love—that You love us before we love You, and You love us before we love ourselves. It’s for freedom You’ve come, Lord—freedom to free us from bondage, bondage of self, bondage of popularity, bondage of things. We praise You for the freedom that You bring, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.