I purchased a music CD the summer I was 15. My world was changed, and my life set on a direction that I never would have imagined. The CD was a Christian punk rock album.

Out of Step

I grew up in a Christian home in a smallish Kansas town. My dad had been a long-haired Jesus freak who joined the Navy. My mom is from Iceland and was raised Lutheran and Pentecostal. It seems I was born to not fit in anywhere.

My family did not have a lot of money, and I was not particularly athletic, so I scored no popularity points with my peers in those areas. I did very well in school but often felt embarrassed about my intelligence, and so I refused to apply myself to my full potential.

I believed in Jesus. Many of my early home memories involve hearing my dad sing his folk songs about Jesus, and seeing my mom reading Scripture and praying early in the morning. I cannot remember a time in my life without Christian influence, and I cannot remember a time when I did not believe in God. There was a time, however, when I thought I did not want to believe in Him.

Young and Restless

As a teenager, I wanted the same thing many teenagers want: a sense of belonging. I did not want to attain that sense of belonging through the pursuits of the typical cliques at school. Most of those groups were closed off to me, anyway. So I spent a lot of time sitting in my bedroom, just listening to the radio. The airwaves brought me a friend in the form of rock ’n’ roll.

Rock music became the defining factor in my life. I started dressing the part and playing the electric guitar. Under the influence of boredom and frustration, I began seeking the harder stuff: punk rock. These were songs that were fast and short, with no frills or fluff, just energy. The music fit those of us who didn’t fit in.

There were only a handful of kids at my school who listened to punk rock, and none of them went to church. Of my schoolmates who had any sort of commitment to the Christian faith, none of them dressed like I did. What seemed clear to me was that I could listen to loud music, dye my hair, and ride my skateboard, or I could be a Christian. If I was to be accepted by either the Christians or the punks, I’d have to give up the other.

A Union of Misfits

Part of what was so significant about purchasing that Christian punk CD was a sudden awareness that there were others like me. This band sang (or yelled, I suppose) about wanting to serve Jesus and wanting to ride their skateboards, as if the two weren’t opposed to one another. They protested against legalism and superficial displays of faith. This CD was the tip of a (still rather small) iceberg.

There was an entire record label dedicated to putting out “extreme” and alternative music recorded by Christians. There was a nationwide underground touring circuit where these bands would perform in churches, skate parks, or suburban basements. In traveling to these shows I began making friends—Christian friends! We had so much in common, and this became an exciting time for me to be a Christian. My faith in Jesus was strengthened through the encouragement of these brothers and sisters.

Holding Fast

It wasn’t all good and honorable fruit to come out of this phase. Anytime people are put on a stage, or behind a microphone, there is the potential for devotees to begin worshiping the band. When more and more people begin attending these shows, suddenly there’s money to be made, and compromises of faith and art can follow. For too many of my friends, the music scene became their “church,” and the rock show their “worship service.” While the Christian punk scene had energy, boldness, and a sense of community, you’ll not be surprised to hear that it was deficient in its ecclesiology. Looking back, I see that so many who seemed on fire for the Lord were just in love with the music. When the trends in the scene changed, they chose to follow the scene instead of following Jesus.

The tendency to lose sight of Christ does not happen only in music scenes. Athletics, education, money, vocation, and even family are good gifts from the Lord that can factor heavily into shaping your identity, but they should never become your identity. Through the Christian punk rock scene, the Lord showed me that I could be me and serve Him; I did not have to pretend to be someone I was not. Joining the Army at 19, when all my piercings came out and my hair was cut off, I was quickly forced to recognize that my identity could not be found in external appearances. Those things of the world fade away, but Christ remains. By God’s grace and His Holy Spirit, I remained in Him.

Pressing On

When I said that the CD I purchased at age 15 had some rather profound effects on the course of my life, I did not mean that as an exaggeration. Because of my introduction to and involvement in the Christian punk scene, I ended up playing in a few different punk and hardcore bands (trust me, you’ve never heard of them). There was a band with which we shared the stage on occasion, and their bass player was a regular at the same shows I would attend. I ran into him at a coffee shop one night, and we had a roughly five-minute conversation, during which he explained Calvinism to me in a very kind and thoughtful manner. (Years later I found out he was the son of an OPC minister.) It was largely through that brief conversation, and then the influence of an Army chaplain from the PCA, that I came to understand and embrace Reformed theology.

Far better than running into a guy and learning about theology, however, was the time I traveled to Castle Rock, Colo., to attend a weekend Christian music festival. The most beautiful punk rock girl was taking tickets at the front gate. Her name was Adrienne Kimsey. Five years later, her name became Adrienne Haney. Since then, anything good and worthwhile that I have done, I wouldn’t have done without her.

It was Adrienne who suggested we visit a Reformed Presbyterian Church. (We didn’t know what it was or what we were in for!) Adrienne encouraged me to complete my schooling and then pursue pastoral ministry. Adrienne identified Manhattan, Kan., as a location where we would be uniquely suited to serve the Church. And, of course, Adrienne gave birth to two of the most important people in the world, Jackson Sævar and Ainsley Jona.

It has been twenty-some years since I first listened to that Christian punk album. (If you really want to know what the album was, just ask. Or, better yet, come to my house and I’ll play it for you.) These days I don’t go to as many punk shows as I once did, but that is all right. I get to be a husband and a father. I get to be a pastor. I get to be alive and to be me. I don’t get to be anyone else, but I don’t need to be anyone else (though I am striving to be more and more like Jesus). And, sometimes, I still get to ride my skateboard.

Jonathan Haney is husband to Adrienne, father to Jackson and Ainsley, and pastor of Manhattan, Kan., RPC.