If you want a truly hard-bitten, secular man, then go back to the Nixon era and visit 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, D.C. Ask for the office of the Special Counsel to the President. The name on the desk reads Charles W. Colson.

They called him the "Hatchet Man" because he specialized in doing the dirty work of politics. Need to pull a dirty trick? Call Chuck Colson. Need to leak a damaging story? Call Chuck Colson. Need to find out what the Democrats are up to? Call Chuck Colson. Need someone to put the brakes on a Justice Department investigation? Call Chuck Colson.

By his own admission, he was a tough guy, a man who once boasted he would run over his grandmother if it would help re-elect Richard Nixon. Religion to him was a crutch. And Jesus Christ? He didn't figure in.

But then 1972 came and with it came Watergate and the landslide victory and a deep inner emptiness that wouldn't go away, a longing for something that even the White House couldn't provide.

And that's why he left the White House and the limousines and the limelight. He was looking for something more. At length he visited a client and friend, Tom Phillips. He was wealthy, successful, with a happy family, a huge house and a Mercedes in the driveway. Someone warned Chuck Colson that Tom Phillips had found religion.

Well, not exactly. Tom Phillips had met Jesus Christ. "This was surprising news. Tom Phillips had always been such an aggressive businessman. It was hard for me to see him teaching Sunday School. Once he had told me he was Congregational in the same way I labeled myself Episcopalian. Nothing important—just another membership."

This is what Tom Phillips said to Chuck Colson: "I have accepted Jesus Christ. I have committed my life to Him and it has been the most marvelous experience of my whole life."

Colson says, "My expression revealed my shock. I struggled for safe ground. 'Uh, maybe sometime you and I can discuss that, Tom.' If I hadn't restrained myself, I would have blurted out, 'What are you talking about? Jesus Christ lived two thousand years ago, a great moral leader, of course, and doubtless divinely inspired. But why would anyone "accept" Him or "commit one's life to Him?" as if he were around today.'"

Tom Phillips gave Chuck Colson a book to read, a book by C.S. Lewis entitled Mere Christianity. In that book, Lewis talks about what it means to believe in Jesus Christ. Particularly, what it means to believe that Jesus Christ really is God in human flesh, who lived and died and rose again and ascended to heaven where He sits at the right hand of God. What does it mean to believe in that Jesus? Lewis says:

I am trying here to prevent anyone saying the really foolish thing that people often say about Him: "I'm ready to accept Jesus as a great moral teacher, but I don't accept His claim to be God." That is the one thing we must not say. A man who was merely a great moral teacher and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher. He would either be a lunatic — on a level with the man who says he is a poached egg — or else he would be the devil of Hell. You must make your choice. Either this Man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse. You can shut Him up as a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God. But let us not come with any patronizing nonsense about His being a great human teacher. He has not left that option open to us. He did not intend to. (pp. 55-56)

And Chuck Colson, Hatchet Man, made his choice. In his own words, "Early that Friday morning, while I sat alone staring at the sea I love, words I had not been certain I could understand or say fell naturally from my lips: 'Lord Jesus, I believe you. I accept you. Please come into my life. I commit it to you.'"