Nowadays people know me for my Bob\u2019s Red Mill cereals and flours, stone-ground just like they did in Bible days. That\u2019s me on the front of every package in my trademark cap and bolo tie. We\u2019ve been in business now for 35 years, and some folks assume it\u2019s what I always wanted to do.<\/p>\n
But the truth is, the career that became my calling is one I stumbled upon. Literally. At the time, running a grain mill was the last thing on my mind. It was 1978, and my working days were over. At 49, I\u2019d retired to pursue the one dream I wanted more than anything.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe wife and I are moving to Portland, Oregon. Going to seminary<\/a>,\u201d I told the guys one Saturday morning down at the hardware store. \u201cWe want to learn Greek and Hebrew so we can read the Bible<\/a> like it was originally written.\u201d<\/p>\n My buddies looked at each other, confused. \u201cYou\u2019re kidding,\u201d one said.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, I\u2019m dead serious,\u201d I said. \u201cI\u2019ve wanted to do this for twenty years.\u201d<\/p>\n It was as if I\u2019d told them Charlee and I were buying his and her Ferraris. I could tell what they were thinking: Those poor Moores, having a midlife crisis.<\/p>\n But that wasn\u2019t it at all. Nothing to do with my receding hairline. In fact, life was good. Our sons were grown. The mill we\u2019d launched together a few years earlier\u2014almost on a whim\u2014was doing great. Well enough that I hadn\u2019t thought twice about turning it over to them.<\/p>\n Not that I wasn\u2019t sending up plenty of prayers about this new adventure we were embarking on. I knew it sounded crazy. But then I\u2019d always been wired a little differently than most folks.<\/p>\n I\u2019m the kind of guy who\u2019s always thinking, studying, tinkering until I know everything\u2014I mean, everything\u2014there is to know on a subject. I have this need to understand how all the parts fit together. Ask Charlee, sometimes it feels more like a curse than a blessing.<\/p>\n That\u2019s how I first got the idea that I wanted to learn Hebrew and Greek. Back then, in 1963, I was managing the JC Penney auto center in Redding, California. I was reading a fascinating book one evening after work.<\/p>\n The author, an eighteenth-century scholar, said there were errors in the Bible, introduced by the men who translated it from the original Hebrew and Greek.<\/p>\n Hebrew, in particular, he explained, is subject to misinterpretation because the words don\u2019t have vowels: th rdr dds thm n hs mnd. <\/em>Well, I saw the problem right away.<\/p>\n \u201cOne wrong letter changes everything,\u201d I told Charlee. \u201cThe entire meaning of a sentence.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s that, honey?\u201d she said, looking up from her mystery. I explained what I\u2019d read. \u201cI see what you mean,\u201d she said. \u201cBut what can we do about it?\u201d<\/p>\n I chewed on that for a moment and then, it was like a lightbulb went on in my mind. \u201cWhat if we learned to read Greek and Hebrew?\u201d I said. \u201cThen we could really study the Bible for ourselves!\u201d She gave me a look and went back to her book, shaking her head.<\/p>\n I knew as well as she did: The last thing I needed was something else to take on, what with three sons to raise, the chicken coop out back to tend to (my idea), my workshop jammed with nearly finished projects (yet more of my ideas), not to mention my job.<\/p>\n Now, in my early thirties, I wanted to be a biblical scholar too? Why not discover a cure for cancer? Or jump to the moon?<\/p>\n But I couldn\u2019t let it go. I bought a book on how to read Hebrew. For weeks I studied it, a little bit each night. But the more I read, the more confused I got. I had to find help. A teacher. That\u2019s when I discovered the closest place that offered the classes I needed was a seminary in Portland, 400 miles away.<\/p>\n I couldn\u2019t uproot my family to chase this wild dream of studying ancient languages. Still, it gnawed at me. If the Bible was God\u2019s instruction manual, how could I be sure of the directions without reading them in the original?<\/p>\n \u201cMaybe I\u2019m just not meant to know,\u201d I finally admitted to Charlee. It killed me to say that. But what else could I do? I put my dream on a shelf, like all those other projects I hoped to get to someday.<\/p>\n My whole life it seemed I\u2019d been searching for something. What was it that God meant for me to do<\/a>? Fresh out of the Army I\u2019d gone to work at U.S. Electrical Motors, then bought a service station, did that until I got the job with JC Penney.<\/p>\n In 1974 I started the mill with our boys, another idea inspired by a book I read. Even though the business was successful, I felt less like I was on a journey with a destination and more like I was just jumping from one thing to the next with no earthly idea how all the pieces fit together.<\/p>\n One day I was studying the Bible and it hit me. The boys were grown. We had the money we\u2019d put away for retirement. \u201cCharlee,\u201d I said, \u201cwhat do you think about us going to seminary?\u201d<\/p>\n The next day I called Western Evangelical Seminary in Portland, Oregon. Yes, the admissions counselor said, it would be fine for us to audit a class or two a semester. He suggested we start with Greek. \u201cI think you\u2019ll find it easier,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n Charlee and I moved to Portland, and now here we were just days away from my dream coming true. I felt like an explorer headed off in search of treasure beyond compare.<\/p>\n Then came the first day of class. I squeezed into my seat and looked around the classroom\u2014into the faces of students younger than my boys. I\u2019d worn a coat and tie, wanting to make a good impression. They were all in jeans and T-shirts.<\/p>\n The professor walked into the room. Even he was younger than me. I glanced at Charlee for reassurance, but her gaze was fixed on the instructor. \u201cTurn in your Bibles<\/a> to John 17:17,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n I flipped to the page and my eyes searched in vain for one word I recognized. \u03b3 \u03b1\u03c3o\u03bd \u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf \u03c2 \u03bd \u03c4 \u03bb \u03b3\u03bf\u03c2 \u03c3 \u03c2 \u03bb. It was definitely Greek to me. Then again it could have been Swahili for all I knew. The memory of my failed attempt to teach myself flashed through my mind.<\/p>\n Was this really a dream I was meant to pursue? What if too many years had gone by? What if even a professor couldn\u2019t help me?<\/p>\n \u201cDon\u2019t worry,\u201d the professor said. \u201cI don\u2019t expect you to be able to read this. Yet. But you will, in time. The key is repetition, until it becomes familiar. I recommend flash cards.\u201d<\/p>\n That night Charlee and I wrote 20 Greek words on note cards. Words like sanc<\/em>tify <\/em>and truth, commandment <\/em>and righteous. <\/em>We stayed up late quizzing each other. It was no use. In Greek, every word looked the same. Indecipherable. I fell into bed, defeated. What had I gotten us into?<\/p>\n But the next morning I woke revived. After a breakfast of Charlee\u2019s whole-wheat pancakes we started studying again. I liked puzzling through the words, the mental challenge of it. Like a workout for the brain. Invigorating.<\/p>\n Slowly some of the letters began to make sense. Then a word: \u03c8\u03bf\u03bc\u03b1\u03c5\u03b4\u03bc\u03b5\u03c5\u03c4. Commandment. \u201cThat\u2019s right!\u201d Charlee exclaimed. My smile stretched from ear to ear. This was it. My dream. It was really happening.<\/p>\n In class I still felt overwhelmed, the lessons never easy no matter how hard I studied. I worried that I wasn\u2019t keeping up. Then one day a young man sitting next to me leaned over and said: \u201cWould it be okay if I came over tonight and studied with you? You know, you\u2019re way ahead of us.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cUh, well, okay,\u201d I said, not sure I really believed him. But he showed up right after dinner. The next night a friend came with him. Soon Charlee and I were tutoring half the class at nightly study sessions. I was actually teaching Greek? This had to be God\u2019s doing<\/a>.<\/p>\n Charlee and I loved being students. We\u2019d study in the morning, go to class, take an afternoon walk, then hit the books and flash cards again with our classmates after dinner.<\/p>\n But the more I learned the more I realized how little I really knew. I could recognize maybe a hundred words in Greek. Read a few simple verses. But I was never going to be a biblical scholar. I hadn\u2019t even begun to study Hebrew. I still had more questions than answers.<\/p>\n Where am I supposed to go from here? <\/em>I asked in my prayers<\/a>.<\/p>\n One morning I opened my Greek Bible to John 17:17, the verse our professor had us turn to the first day of class. It was amazing. The words nearly jumped off the page, as plain as day. \u201cSanctify them through thy truth: thy word is truth.\u201d<\/p>\n