Publisher's Synopsis
Growing up in the church often lacks the beauty and meaning that God envisioned. John Kings ministry as a pastor and teacher spanned the years from 1969 to 1993. He and his family moved 17 times in those years, and pastored in five churches, once even moving several times while at the same church. Occasionally down to the last jar of peanut butter, faith played a real part in their spiritual journey. And then there were the children. With nary a negative word for the adults, Can You See God in This Picture? tells the story of what passion for God can accomplish, both constructively and destructively, and explores the angry and stupid things adults do in the church, which children see and remember. Written as a letter to his three sons, and with many personal admissions and anecdotes, this memoir has the potential to bless any whose faith has been tested, perhaps even destroyed, through church power struggles, theological bickering, political infighting, and all the other things that burn out even the good pastors and sometimes even force them out of the pulpit. Pastor King was known in Western Pennsylvania for his knowledge of Koine Greek and Classical Hebrew, having taught in Western PA Bible Institute in Butler, The Lighthouse Ministry in Washington, and Faith Seminary in Bethel Park, PA in the 1970s. He also taught at the Charismatic Conference in 1979 at Duquesne University. He graduated from a four year ministerial program at Northeast Bible College, which is now Valley Forge Christian College, and later returned to complete a course of study for a B.S. in Bible. In 1982, he received a Master of Bible Theology from the International Bible Institute & Seminary. Currently retiredfrom the pastorate, he develops computer software at a financial- services firm in Boston and lives with his wife in their townhouse in a nearby town. He occasionally speaks at area churches, including the one he regularly attends, and he still harbors the dream of someday perhaps returning to professional ministry.
