How did your parents react when you told them what you wanted to do?
Robert Schuller: I remember, when I announced this at the breakfast table, my father looked at me and cried. He didn't explain the tears to me until 20 years later, when I graduated from the theological seminary, the post-graduate school of theology. He told me that this was his dream when he was a boy, but he was orphaned, dropped out of school to earn his own bread and clothing, and gave up on the dream.
He prayed that he'd have a son who could fulfill it. Four children were born to him, and none were targeted for the ministry. His wife passed the years when she should have a child, but he prayed for another child, a son. And my mother became pregnant.
My uncle in China was so shocked that there was another baby, and it was a boy! I guess that's why, when he saw me, at four years and 11 months old, he saw me as an answer to prayer. I was destined for it. Nobody can deny the fact that my father prayed. Nobody can deny the fact that my uncle told me this, nobody can deny the fact that I followed it. I believe in God. Definitely. Completely. Nothing else can explain my life.
Did you have support from your mother as well, for this calling?
Robert Schuller: Oh, yes. Very much so. She was Holland-Dutch; we lived in a Holland-Dutch ethnic community. In that culture this person would be called a dominie. That's a Dutch word, from the Latin word Dominus. It's a very highly respected profession, so my mother was very honored.
What books were important to you when you were young? What did you like to read?
Robert Schuller: I wish I could give an answer that would be more impressive. I'll just have to be honest. I think Buffalo Bill. I always tend to psychologically analyze things. How could that book have affected me? He was a solitary character who got on his horse alone and delivered the mail against tremendous odds! I think you could see a Buffalo Bill streak in my life, starting with nothing, and getting on a horse, and later on, at the age of 70, writing a book entitled, If It's Going to Be, It's Up to Me. Okay, Buffalo Bill.
Were you clearly gifted as a child? Did you excel academically?
Robert Schuller: No, I never did excel academically. I did excel early on as an articulating person. In fact, when I was in the first grade, because I knew I was going to be a preacher, I asked the teacher if I could memorize a poem to deliver at the Christmas program, because I had to learn how to speak.
When it came to speaking, it was a natural for me, a gift. If you are exercising what you know is a gift, there can never be anything but humility, because a gift is something that was given to you. You can't, in the silence of your own solitude say, "Boy, did I do a great job!" I'm just gifted, and I've been faithful to the gift. Awareness that you're faithful is not egotism, it's authentic humility.
You mentioned a teacher who allowed you to read a poem. Was there a teacher that particularly challenged or inspired you?
Robert Schuller: I'd say my high school English literature teacher, Miss Ailes. That was the most impressive course I took in high school. Tennyson, Browning, classic English literature we had to memorize.
"Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold."
I won't go through the whole thing. And Shakespeare, we had to memorize this stuff. Fabulous. It's still a part of me. The beauty of words that incorporated powerful, positive thoughts that would be classical and not merely fashionable, that would transcend cultures and centuries.
What high school was this?
Robert Schuller: Newkirk High School, which no longer exists. It had about 74 persons in all four grades. In the senior class, there were 14 of us. It was the largest class in the history of Newkirk High School.
What town are we talking about?
Robert Schuller: It's a town that's unincorporated. It's called Newkirk. There's a church -- the church where I was baptized -- there was one country store, and a school, period.
Did you feel that you were different from other kids, when you were a child?
I always felt different, partly because I was overweight and very non-athletic. In a sense, they might have called me, I don't know that they did, but they might have called me a fat boy. I think I felt different. I definitely did not feel like I was in the winning group. When they'd go to the playground, they would draw up sides. Two persons would be picked, and then they would pick from the rest of us. I was always the one that never got picked. "You get Schuller." I was the left-over one. "You get Schuller," they would say. I don't blame them, they did a good job. I was non-athletic. I didn't care about it.
Wasn't that a devastating experience?
Robert Schuller: Probably. Probably it was another gift of God, because my life has been so successful. I look at the pivotal periods of my life, and gee whiz, I didn't choose them, they shaped me. I think that's probably where the compulsion arose that would later on take me into the study of self-esteem theology. I was the first person in the history of theology to write a systematic theology built around self esteem. Deep in my consciousness as a little child, I probably felt rejected.
An article I read recently talked about the central issue of self esteem in your writings, and there was a hint that you had lacked it.
Robert Schuller: Oh yes, I know. There's a saying about great preachers. Probably I'm immodest to think I'm a great preacher, but at the risk of being immodest, I suppose I'm a great preacher.
They say great preachers only have one sermon. That's all they have. It's true for Billy Graham, it's true for Norman Peale, it's true for Robert Schuller. Also, there's a profound teaching: You can tell what a preacher's personal sins are, by what he preaches against all the time. I preach against people who treat others with indignity, I preach against people who insult people, I preach against people who embarrass people. I preach against those who peddle guilt and shame.
Maybe it started when I wasn't accepted on a team: "You can have Schuller." In that little society of a country school, people were applauding the athlete, the one who won the races, the one who could hit the ball the hardest, and that's not where my gifts were. I suppose I've subsequently sensed that culture can set up artificial bases for applauding, which might be very unfair to others who might be gifted as a writer, or as an artist.