His name was Lonnie Frisbee.

But good luck finding his name in much of the official history of two large charismatic denominations the hippie preacher helped grow during the Jesus Movement of the ‘70s.

Filmmaker David Di Sabatino explores this glaring omission in “Frisbee: The Life and Death of a Hippie Preacher,” a documenaty that chronicles Mr. Frisbee's journey from free-spirited drug user and converted Christian to a popular charismatic preacher ostracized for being revealed as a homosexual.

Through engrossing archival footage of a John the Baptist-looking Frisbee — complete with a long mane baptizing hundreds of new converts — and interviews with dozens of friends, Di Sabatino fashions a narrative worthy of the “Bible story” sub-title he gives it.

It’s obvious watching the footage of a young Lonnie speak and the interviews of those who knew him best why, after his dramatic conversion, he quickly became a key fixture in the Christian counterculture movement of the ‘60s and ‘70s.

Like conflicted biblical characters David and Samson, Frisbee seems to possess a closeness to God and a spiritual prowess that makes him larger than life, all while he is struggling with weaknesses or, to quote the apostle Paul, “thorns in his side” that humble him. His marriage is bizarre and unhealthy; his work consumes him; and his theology is questionable.

As footage in the film and included in the DVD extras illustrate, Frisbee had a Jesus deer skin vest that he believed had powers to heal people. Watching eerie footage of Frisbee and the testimonies of people it’s hard not to be skeptical. There are times where it’s hard to tell whether Frisbee is the victim of his own self-righteousness and naive sheparding or the scapegoat for a church movement whose leadership is still unwilling to reconcile the sins, perceived or otherwise, they committed against one of their own.

The treatment of Frisbee in the history of both worldwide denominations he was influential in growing -- Calvary Chapel and Vineyard -- and the “unrealized potential” eulogy delivered by Calvary Chapel founder and mentor Chuck Smith at his funeral is an indictment enough to make those both inside and outside the church question the tragedy of it all.

Hopefully, if nothing else, this film serves in some small way as redemption for Frisbee and a recognition of the influence his involvement in the great spiritual awakening of the ‘70s still has on evangelical culture today.

Bbeyond setting the record straight and telling an otherwise untold story of a remarkably interesting man, this film confronts issues that often, save for the recent Haggard scandal, are kept at a distance. After all, it’s much easier to vote on a referendum condemning homosexuality and spewing hatred toward anyone who commits a homosexual act when you assume that no one you know, especially no one who would preach at your church, struggles with it.

The irony of Frisbee’s story, as pointed out in one telling interview with Chuck Smith Jr., is that he was able to open the doors of Calvary Chapel to a bunch of dirty drug-using hippies, but had those same doors slammed in his face when his sexual orientation was revealed, pushing him out of the fold he so desperately sought to stay apart of up until his death.

This film doesn’t provide easy answers to the tough questions facing the modern church and it doesn’t necessarily choose a side or stake out territory in the fight. What it does is simply pose a host of questions any careful viewer is sure to wrestle.