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There's so much to tell and at the
same time, so little to tell. In so many ways my upbringing was so typical, and
in so many, so untypical.
I grew up in southern California,
Orange County to be exact. Back then it was all Orange groves with a scattering
of suburban housing tracts. What a wonderland it was for me and my buddies -
Kevin Connoly, Joey Goode, . . . We would disappear into those orange groves for
entire afternoons, playing all sorts of imaginary games. And the building sites
- wow! There were all sorts of neat things lying around that we could use for
clubhouses and all. I remember we even built a puppet theater in Kevin's garage
with those building scraps. We modeled it after Disneyland's 'Tiki Room,'
charged admission and everything. I don't remember what kinds of reviews or
crowds we got, but it was great fun, that's for sure.
There can be no doubt my love of
acting was birthed in those orange grove and backyard role-playing games. I
remember Superman was real big back then. Of course everyone wanted to be
Superman. I don't remember how often I got that title role, but what I do
remember is that the reason I loved playing Superman was different from the rest
of the kids. They all wanted to play him because he was so powerful, but I
wanted to play him "because he saved people." I remember it distinctly, and
looking back, I can't help but think that even way back then the Lord was
shaping me for the future He alone knew I would step into.
Interesting thing about my growing
up, I was by no means the cool so-cal surfer kid. In fact, I didn't like the
beach at all until I was well into my high school years. You see, I was a real
chubby kid - loved to eat, and the cultural environment I was raised in was
anything but dietary.
My father is Italian and my mother
is Syrian. The two of them met here in California, dancing at the Figueroa
Ballroom in the big band swing days. My father and his buddies were out on a
vacation from New Jersey and mom was living out here, transplanted from Rhode
Island with her Syrian family. Dad took one look at Mom and his ship was sunk.
The next thing he knew he was raising a family on the west coast.
But given that, all the relatives
I remember, and all the family gatherings, holidays, and weddings were all
steeped in the Syrian/Arabic culture. I remember belly dancers at all the
weddings, and the old uncles would grab their traditional instruments and
provide the music, and we'd do a line dance called the 'dubke,' and all the
Syrian women would get together for days in advance, cooking and cooking, and
cooking some more.
But you can imagine the food I
grew up on - dishes considered exotic/gourmet these days. And the sign of a
healthy kid was the quantity he ate. I remember stuffing myself with my
grandmother ('Sitto' in Syrian) standing behind my chair exclaiming in Arabic
what a healthy child I was.
And 'healthy' I was! More, more!
And my mother made this pudding dish that if you didn't take it away I'd clean
out the entire pan in one sitting. Wow!
In any event, I was an overweight
kid, and when it came to things like the beach and the locker room, it wasn't so
nice. My only saving grace is that I was pretty athletic, so the way my brother
puts it, "You never looked really fat, you just looked like a big square." Gee
thanks, bro.
But I would struggle with my
weight on and off until my 20's. One afternoon I stood in a clothing store
buying a pair of pants. The girl behind the counter was real cute, but she
didn't look at me even once, let alone twice. I can remember it distinctly - it
hit me so hard I went home that day determined to get fit. And get fit I did.
Praise God! It was such a big thing to me, to this day I wonder who that girl
was, and if I'll ever get the chance to thank her for ignoring me.
But that weight was a big thing,
I'm convinced that it shaped my sensitivities for the future. To this day, I
find myself always gravitating toward the underdog - the guy left out - doing
everything I can to impress the truth that God has a plan for his or her life.
In terms of my acting, I was on
stage for the first time at 13, in a high school production of 'Oliver.' I was
in the chorus of orphan boys and Fagan's gang and had one big line. Boy, did I
practice it, over and over: "What next is the question?"
I'll never forget, one rehearsal
the director said to me, "Bruce, I wish all my actors were like you. You're
always in character." Wow! That validation meant the world, and I knew from that
age on that I wanted to be an actor.
Following high school, university,
post-grad, and 2 years in an office job that I thought would make me go out of
my mind, I finally moved the 60 miles to Los Angeles. I got an apartment on
Beachwood Drive (the street you drive up to view the Hollywood sign), signed up
for acting classes, and dove in.
One morning in 1984 my phone rang
and it was the casting director for 'Murder, She Wrote.' He asked me if I could
do a walk-on - 3 lines - for the show, and I was ecstatic. It was my first
professional gig, and as far as I was concerned, it was "Kevin Costner, step
aside!"
Well, as wonderful as that first
acting job was, it would only launch me into several years of struggle. I'd
study by night and pound the streets by day, doing everything I could to get
someone on the other side of the desk to take me seriously. There were
occasional opportunities, occasional jobs, an agent here and an agent there, but
the bottom line was struggle.
The only upside was that everyone
was struggling. We were a whole community of out-of-work actors, drinking coffee
all day long and 'talking film.' I made some great friends and had some great
fun. And there's an interesting thing about struggle - one gets pretty inventive
and creative in how to have fun. And sometimes that's the best fun of all.
One of my greatest joys then (and
now) was softball. Saturday was the entertainment league where different TV
shows would put teams on the field. It was very competitive, and guys like me
who weren't on a show were brought in as ringers. I remember one great player
who played for the Days Of Our Lives team. He was so good that they actually
gave him a regular walk-on role, just so they could claim him as an official
player.
Sundays were pickup games at North
Hollywood Park. We'd play game after game, starting around 10 am and going all
the way through 5 or 6. It was wonderful, out there sweating in the sun all day
long, fielding grounders and running the bases.
I remember one player in
particular that used to come out to those games. He always played the outfield,
and his brand new glove was a dead giveaway that he wasn't the most experienced
guy in town, but he got better and better as the weeks went on. He was quieter
than the other guys, but when he did open his mouth, it was so funny that the
game would almost stop. He drove an older black Porsche, and I'll never forget
the day he walked on the field and everyone was congratulating him for an
appearance on the Tonight Show. Then years later, I turned on the TV and there
he was in his own sitcom. It was Jerry Seinfeld.
But movies were my life, and
unfortunately, it was a pretty one-sided affair. I loved them, but they had yet
to love me. And when I did work, it was always a character somewhat 'rough
around the edges.' A boxing manager, an ex-con living in his car, a black market
dealer, . . . It was undoubtedly my dark looks, and that was just fine with me,
as long as it got me work.
And then in mid-1987 my head was
spun around by a beautiful young actress. She was a honey-dripping southern
girl, and no need to say more. Suddenly it wasn't just movies anymore, it was
movies and this girl. She and I would go out for the next 2 years, and for me it
was a roller-coaster of emotional feast or famine, crashing late one hot July
night.
By that time, though I still
wasn't consistently working, my career was taking on a nice pace. I had latched
on to a talent manager who was passionately pushing me, and it was beginning to
work. I was getting into doors that had been shut for years, getting meetings
for shows that had been stone walls. So between the girl and the career, the
lifelong dreams of a chubby 13 year old boy in his high school play were
beginning to take great shape, and for the first time in many years, I was
having the time of my life!
But then that hot July night came,
and simultaneously, career opportunity dried up as well. Life went into a
tailspin of broken dreams, and I'll tell you, there's only one thing worse than
never seeing your dream, and that's catching a taste then having it snatched
away. I remember being so ashamed, I just couldn't tell my parents, or my
brother, or anyone about any of it. I would just drive to a park in the hills by
myself, and just search and search.
Over the years, many of my friends
had given their lives over to Jesus, 'receiving Him' as savior. They would talk
and talk to me about it, but I thought they were nuts. I called them
'Bible-beaters,' and mourned our never being able to go out and have fun
together anymore.
I remember when I was 19, dating a
girl who was 'born-again.' I thought she was nuts with it all, but I didn't care
- she was so pretty, I'd go to church with her anyway.
And then there was this guy I came
up with as an actor. He was this incredible looking guy, and I used to hate
going anywhere with him because the girls all swooned as he passed by. But he
was a great guy and we had great fun together.
Then one day he announced that
he'd been 'born again.' "Ugh," I thought. There goes a good friend. But you
know, as much as the constant Bible in his hand was an irritation, that's how
much I silently respected him. You see, his agent was negotiating for him to
play in a soap opera called 'Loving,' but when he became born again he called
his agent and told him, "I'm a Christian now, and I can't do a show like that."
At the same time, he was living
with his longtime girlfriend. He loved her lots, but when he came to Jesus, he
felt he had to move out. It was a huge risk, and I'll tell you, as much as I
thought he was out of his mind, that got my respect. (They're married with 3
girls now, by the way).
Well, aside from sharing the Lord
with me, all these friends who had come to Jesus had been praying for me. So,
one July afternoon, in that park in the hills, all those prayers and all that
sharing took root, and I gave my life to Jesus. Praise His holy name!
Well, then my career REALLY took
off! I started working from show to show, LA Law, Hardball, Columbo, . . . never
losing once on an audition. I remember screen-testing for a lead opposite
Academy Award winner F. Murray Abraham in 'By The Sword,' and for another lead
at Universal for the brat-pack film, 'Mobsters,' and when you're having those
opportunities, you're playing the big-league game. My confidence was
skyrocketing, and as I look back, I have to believe it was the Lord making sure
I knew that He was very real and very interested in me. It was wonderful!
He began working and working in my
heart, as well, healing and shaping. As I dove into the Word and nestled into a
great church (Church On the Way), I began to grow and grow.
Then in 1991 I felt Him calling me
to join a drama ministry that was traveling to Australia. I fought that call all
the way, then finally cried, "Uncle!" as it felt like the Lord was twisting my
arm behind my back. Kicking and screaming, I joined this ministry team that I
was certain would ruin my career.
And ruin my career, it did. When I
returned from the tour, my agent dropped me, saying, "Bruce, this Christian
thing is getting in the way." Boy, was I angry with God. The next
year-and-a-half would be nothing but out-of-work struggle, all over again. After
tasting some success, I remember it being bitterly shameful, like chewing on
glass 24 hours a day.
But somehow I clung to my faith
(it was all I had!), and then one day my phone rang. It was Jerry Fisher, the
leader of the drama ministry that had taken me to Australia and had seemingly
ruined my career. I can still hear his words today: "Bruce, I got this letter
from a South African director who's making a new Jesus movie. He's looking for a
more down-to-earth, more real-looking Jesus. He's looking for a professional
actor who's born again. I think you might be right for this."
The next thing I knew, I had a
beard and long hair, and I was on a plane to Morocco to play the role of a
lifetime - The Son of the Living God made Man - JESUS!!!!
One detail I left out about it
all. When I was a kid in university, I had a history professor who knew and
loved Jesus as his savior. He was a real mentor to me in those days, and I'll
never forget, once in his office, he looked at me and spoke these words: "Bruce,
God has something big planned for your life. I don't know what it is, but it's
really, really big."
And so, many years later, there
isn't a day that goes by that I don't receive a letter from some corner of the
world, from some life that's been changed by that Jesus movie, or by the
ministry and books that have been born from it. There isn't a day that goes by
that I'm not blown away by where the Lord has taken, and what He has done with a
chubby 13 year old who had one line in a high school play.
Every time I stand in front of an
audience, every time I hold a child in Africa, every time I walk by a book rack
and see my name under 'written by,' every time a flight attendant stops and
says, "Aren't you the guy who played Jesus?" Every time, every time, every time;
every day, every week, every month, every year, . . . . I stand amazed, stunned,
astounded, marveling.
He is God. He is God. He is good,
and He is God.
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