Fifty one years ago I had an amazing Easter experience. It was wholly unexpected and changed my life completely.
I was born just after WW2 and it was customary in those days for most children to go to Sunday School. Miss Hatton, the lady who lived six doors from our home was already taking my brother and several other children each Sunday and was glad to include me at a very early age. This was in the days when TV was a rare thing and all shops and businesses closed for Sundays. My typical day was to go to church in the morning (being allowed to leave at half time), then back for Sunday School in the afternoon, and then usually back in the evening. In the summer there would be an open air service after church on Hastings Seafront.
A passion for a career in the Royal Navy had led me to join Sea Cadets as soon as I was old enough and this provided an opportunity to forsake the church routines. I remember arguing with my parents that I was not abandoning church as there was always a Church Parade at Sea Cadets on Sundays. I also remember arguing with myself that by abandoning church I was not actually abandoning God. But I did abandon holiness and my lifestyle for several years was pretty corrupt and included organising sordid parties for year 11 school friends and our girlfriends.
On one such occasion I had to take a friend to hospital after his eye had been badly cut by a girls shoe being thrown around. While at the hospital I saw a man brought in paralytically drunk and bleeding profusely from a cut nose. Apparently his wife had smashed a glass in his face as she didn't like the way he was groping a young girl on his lap. This was described as 'having a good time''. I sensed a voice saying, "This is how you will end up if you don't change".
I tried changing but found it very hard. Then one day a man called John Eaves, who I didn't know, gave me a gospel leaflet in unusual circumstances. John went home and organised prayer for me to become a Christian (also unknown to me). Not one word had passed between us but he knew God had a plan for my life. Ironically, I was on my way to Sea Cadets when he passed me the leaflet, and he thought I was a sailor as I was wearing uniform.
Later, in the privacy of my bedroom, I read the leaflet. It had a ridiculous story but was so relevant to my own life. It also had one verse from the Bible: "[Jesus said,] Whoever comes to me I will never turn away" (John 6:37). I prayed, "If this is true, please accept me as I am with all its mess." There was no angel choir or anything dramatic but my life began to change from that day. I became less self centred. I had doubts about my career and chose instead to try to become a school teacher specialising in underprivileged children. I joined a youth group at the church I had abandoned where I was cunningly manipulated into speaking on my favourite Psalm. I spent a week preparing a talk on Psalm 121 but on the night I spoke on Psalm 23 in which I acknowledged that I had been a sheep that had gone astray and that Jesus was the Good Shepherd who had sought and found me.
Rosemary, a girl I had hoped would be present to hear my talk was unable to go that evening and I got on my bike to ride home alone. Only it wouldn't move! It was if it had been set in concrete! I turned to find the church minister, Gordon Hunt, had gripped the saddle. "Now that I know where you stand, when can I baptise you?" he asked. Unable to come up with a good answer quickly enough I found myself roped into a series of pre-baptism classes in this Baptist church. Others enrolled included the brothers of my girlfriend.
The event was to take place on Easter Sunday 1963. I had done the course. I knew and understood what it was all about but this was mostly at the level of mental acknowledgement only. Gordon had been plugging an event on Easter Saturday where Sylvia Smith, a young female evangelist would be speaking. Sylvia, we were told, worked among London's strippers and prostitutes. It sounded interesting so I went along and sat at the back.
After telling us about her work Sylvia slipped seamlessly into a talk based on the words of Jesus on the cross, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing". She cleverly gave a verbal portrait of each of the main characters whose action or lack of it had led to the crucifixion of Jesus. In every one I recognised myself. After each character Sylvia repeated the words of that prayer, "Father forgive them..." Something extraordinary began to happen as I listened. I felt God's love for me. I knew that the mind-blowing love that enabled Jesus to pray those words was the love he felt for me!
As we sang the closing hymn I prayed for God to help me to mean the words we sang: "Love, so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all". I surrendered. The following evening, before a packed church, I blurted out some words of testimony and was baptised by immersion. We sang two great hymns. 'And can it be that I should gain an interest in the Saviour's blood?' and 'To God be the glory, great things he has done'. Now that the gospel had spread from my head to my heart I sang with unbounded enthusiasm.
Miss Hatton, John Eaves, Rosemary Ralph, Gordon Hunt, and Sylvia Smith were just a few who influenced my life up to that point in Easter 1963. I thank God for them all and pray that this Easter 2014 something of the power that changed my life that weekend will be found in the words I share in leading worship this Sunday. Easter - it's when new life begins!
For your prayers this week
I will be leading and speaking at Yelvertoft Congregational Church this Sunday and on the following Sunday.
Doreen and I will be attending a Church Leaders' Conference from Tuesday to Friday. We pray that it will be a time of spiritual and physical refreshment for all attending.
No other major activities this week.
Have a great Easter.
Barry
I was born just after WW2 and it was customary in those days for most children to go to Sunday School. Miss Hatton, the lady who lived six doors from our home was already taking my brother and several other children each Sunday and was glad to include me at a very early age. This was in the days when TV was a rare thing and all shops and businesses closed for Sundays. My typical day was to go to church in the morning (being allowed to leave at half time), then back for Sunday School in the afternoon, and then usually back in the evening. In the summer there would be an open air service after church on Hastings Seafront.
A passion for a career in the Royal Navy had led me to join Sea Cadets as soon as I was old enough and this provided an opportunity to forsake the church routines. I remember arguing with my parents that I was not abandoning church as there was always a Church Parade at Sea Cadets on Sundays. I also remember arguing with myself that by abandoning church I was not actually abandoning God. But I did abandon holiness and my lifestyle for several years was pretty corrupt and included organising sordid parties for year 11 school friends and our girlfriends.
On one such occasion I had to take a friend to hospital after his eye had been badly cut by a girls shoe being thrown around. While at the hospital I saw a man brought in paralytically drunk and bleeding profusely from a cut nose. Apparently his wife had smashed a glass in his face as she didn't like the way he was groping a young girl on his lap. This was described as 'having a good time''. I sensed a voice saying, "This is how you will end up if you don't change".
I tried changing but found it very hard. Then one day a man called John Eaves, who I didn't know, gave me a gospel leaflet in unusual circumstances. John went home and organised prayer for me to become a Christian (also unknown to me). Not one word had passed between us but he knew God had a plan for my life. Ironically, I was on my way to Sea Cadets when he passed me the leaflet, and he thought I was a sailor as I was wearing uniform.
Later, in the privacy of my bedroom, I read the leaflet. It had a ridiculous story but was so relevant to my own life. It also had one verse from the Bible: "[Jesus said,] Whoever comes to me I will never turn away" (John 6:37). I prayed, "If this is true, please accept me as I am with all its mess." There was no angel choir or anything dramatic but my life began to change from that day. I became less self centred. I had doubts about my career and chose instead to try to become a school teacher specialising in underprivileged children. I joined a youth group at the church I had abandoned where I was cunningly manipulated into speaking on my favourite Psalm. I spent a week preparing a talk on Psalm 121 but on the night I spoke on Psalm 23 in which I acknowledged that I had been a sheep that had gone astray and that Jesus was the Good Shepherd who had sought and found me.
Rosemary, a girl I had hoped would be present to hear my talk was unable to go that evening and I got on my bike to ride home alone. Only it wouldn't move! It was if it had been set in concrete! I turned to find the church minister, Gordon Hunt, had gripped the saddle. "Now that I know where you stand, when can I baptise you?" he asked. Unable to come up with a good answer quickly enough I found myself roped into a series of pre-baptism classes in this Baptist church. Others enrolled included the brothers of my girlfriend.
The event was to take place on Easter Sunday 1963. I had done the course. I knew and understood what it was all about but this was mostly at the level of mental acknowledgement only. Gordon had been plugging an event on Easter Saturday where Sylvia Smith, a young female evangelist would be speaking. Sylvia, we were told, worked among London's strippers and prostitutes. It sounded interesting so I went along and sat at the back.
After telling us about her work Sylvia slipped seamlessly into a talk based on the words of Jesus on the cross, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing". She cleverly gave a verbal portrait of each of the main characters whose action or lack of it had led to the crucifixion of Jesus. In every one I recognised myself. After each character Sylvia repeated the words of that prayer, "Father forgive them..." Something extraordinary began to happen as I listened. I felt God's love for me. I knew that the mind-blowing love that enabled Jesus to pray those words was the love he felt for me!
As we sang the closing hymn I prayed for God to help me to mean the words we sang: "Love, so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all". I surrendered. The following evening, before a packed church, I blurted out some words of testimony and was baptised by immersion. We sang two great hymns. 'And can it be that I should gain an interest in the Saviour's blood?' and 'To God be the glory, great things he has done'. Now that the gospel had spread from my head to my heart I sang with unbounded enthusiasm.
Miss Hatton, John Eaves, Rosemary Ralph, Gordon Hunt, and Sylvia Smith were just a few who influenced my life up to that point in Easter 1963. I thank God for them all and pray that this Easter 2014 something of the power that changed my life that weekend will be found in the words I share in leading worship this Sunday. Easter - it's when new life begins!
For your prayers this week
I will be leading and speaking at Yelvertoft Congregational Church this Sunday and on the following Sunday.
Doreen and I will be attending a Church Leaders' Conference from Tuesday to Friday. We pray that it will be a time of spiritual and physical refreshment for all attending.
No other major activities this week.
Have a great Easter.
Barry
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