Great Bible Truths with Dr David Petts
Dr David Petts is an international speaker and author who is best known for his 27 years as Principal at Mattersey Hall Bible College and his in-depth but easily understood teaching on the Holy Spirit. Now retired, he enjoys preaching locally and sometimes further afield. These podcasts are your opportunity to experience Dr Petts' teaching first hand!
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311 My Story Talk 24 Developing the Curriculum and Choosing the Faculty
08/17/2025
311 My Story Talk 24 Developing the Curriculum and Choosing the Faculty
My Story Talk 24 Developing the curriculum and choosing the faculty Welcome to Talk 24 where I’m reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Last time I was talking about all the improvements we were able to make to the campus at Mattersey. We were, of course, grateful to the Lord for these improvements, especially for the provision of sufficient finances to build the new hall of residence and the beautiful new Chapel and classrooms. But these were never an end in themselves. They were the means to an end. Their purpose was to facilitate the training and education of men and women to understand the Bible and to become more effective servants of the Lord Jesus Christ. But even more important than the erection of buildings was the development of the curriculum and the choosing of the faculty. And to do that it was first necessary to determine our aims and objectives. What follows is taken from one of our early college prospectuses. If the terminology sounds a little old-fashioned today, please remember that it’s now almost half a century since I first wrote them. The NIV had only just been published and much of our preaching was based on the text of the Authorised Version (KJV) of the Bible. But even if the language might need updating, I believe that these aims and objectives would still be highly appropriate for any pentecostal or charismatic Bible college today and would form an excellent basis for its curriculum. They should certainly be the goal of every local church! Aims and Objectives The general purpose of the college is to train men and women for Christian service at home and overseas. This training involves not only the imparting of a comprehensive theological education but also emphasises the development of Christian character and spiritual growth. Because the college takes a positive stand for the authority and inspiration of Holy Scripture, its aims are essentially biblical. They may be summarised as follows: 1. That opportunity might be given to those who are called to the work of the ministry to fulfil the will of Christ that his servants should be with him, and that he might send them forth to preach (Mark 3:14). 2. That through their ministry the gospel might be preached to every creature (Mark 16:15) and that disciples might be made of all nations (Matthew 28:19). 3. That the gospel might be preached with signs following (Mark 16:20) and the churches be established in the power and demonstration of the Holy Spirit (1 Corinthians 2:4). 4. That God's servants might be able always to give a reason for the hope that is in them (1 Peter 3: 15) and to speak the things which become sound doctrine (Titus 2:1). 5. That God's workmen might be approved unto God, being able rightly to divide the word of God (2 Timothy 2:15) and to contend earnestly for the faith once for all time delivered to the saints (Jude 3). 6. That God's people might come to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ and that each individual part of his body might so function in its proper order that the church will make edification of itself in love (Ephesians 4:13-16). 7. That the word of God may be entrusted to faithful men who will be able to teach others also (2 Timothy 2:2). 8. That those who seek to love God with all their heart and soul might also love him with all their mind (Matthew 22:37). 9. That the gifts and fruit of the Holy Spirit might be manifested in the lives of all God's people (1 Corinthians 12:7-11, Galatians 5:22-23). 10.That the church which is the bride of Christ might be ready and prepared for his coming (Ephesians 5:25-27; 2 Corinthians 11: 2; Revelation 19:9, 21-22). Developing the curriculum In using the word curriculum, I am referring to the entire College programme, not just the academic timetable. This included worship in chapel five mornings a week, weekly student prayer groups, days of prayer at least once a term, and church on Sundays with opportunities for students to sing, testify or preach, as invited by the local pastors. We experienced some wonderful times of blessing, particularly in our Wednesday morning Chapel services, which were longer than on the other days and where the resident faculty and staff were present as well as all the students. It was the spiritual life of the College that provided the inspiration and motivation for the academic discipline of study in the classroom. But there was, of course, plenty of inspiration in the classroom too. That derived from the quality of our teaching staff – more of which in a moment – and the subject matter of the courses most of which were directly related to the Bible, the inspired word of God. Of course, the structure of the timetable varied over the 27 years I was Principal, but the underlying principles remained the same. What follows is just an example of what we were offering towards the end of my time as Principal. Courses available included: Certificate in Biblical Studies (One Year) Diploma in Biblical Studies (Two Years) BA in Biblical Theology (Three Years) and for suitable candidates who completed all three years we also awarded our Diploma in Christian Ministry. In addition to all this we were also validated to award an MA in Pentecostal and Charismatic Studies which was a part-time two-year course. This was much appreciated by people already in church leadership some of whom had no formally recognised theological qualification. This was only possible because we had sufficient faculty members who had earned a Ph.D. But, without question, our most important course for people who wanted a thorough preparation for Christian ministry was our three-year B.A. in Biblical Theology combined with our Diploma in Christian Ministry. Over the three years these included teaching on the following YEAR ONE Bible Survey, Hermeneutics and Homiletics, Evangelism, Care and Counselling, Christian Doctrine, Christian Leadership, Church History Survey, Children’s and Youth Work, Other Faiths, and New Testament Greek. (For those who did not opt for Greek, there were special courses on the English Language, John’s Gospel, and Luke/Acts). YEAR TWO O.T. General, N.T. Christian Origins, Early Church History, The Holy Spirit, Mark in Greek, Christian Apologetics, Christian Ethics, 1 Corinthians in English, Romans in English, Anthropology, Hebrew, Media Work, Church Planting. YEAR THREE O.T. Theology, N.T. Theology, Pentecostal Distinctives (The Baptism in the Holy Spirit and Divine Healing), History of Revival, Philosophy of Religion, John in Greek, Hebrew Set Texts, Christian Missions, Ecclesiology, Youth Work, Pastoral Training. But no matter what course we provided, our aims and objectives remained the same throughout. Any qualification gained was never intended as an end in itself. Personally, I saw my own academic qualifications rather like the apostle Paul saw his Roman citizenship. He certainly would not glory in it. It meant nothing compared with the excellency of knowing Christ, but he wasn’t afraid to make use of it when appropriate (Acts 22:25-28). I knew that the success of the curriculum could only be measured by the extent to which its aims and objectives were being fulfilled in the lives of the students. And that could certainly not be accomplished by academic learning alone. Our students were accepted on this understanding. Any academic achievement they might gain would be a bonus. Their primary motivation must be a sense of calling, a desire to serve Jesus. Choosing the faculty And, of course, our biblical aims and objectives so important to the development of our curriculum were equally relevant to the choosing of those who would be teaching its courses. They must not only be in agreement with our AoG Statement of Faith but also be people of experience in the work of God and have a divine anointing to teach. Academic ability in itself was not enough. I had had enough experience at Oxford where some of those teaching no doubt had great academic ability, but whose communication skills left much to be desired! But of course, however great your ability to communicate, you need to know what you’re talking about! I have listened too often to people with great communication skills preaching absolute nonsense! Even in some national and international conferences! So our choice of faculty was influenced by the need to find people who believed the Bible, were filled with the Spirit, knew their subject, and had a God-given ability to teach it. And that meant the ability, not to make simple things sound difficult, but to make difficult things easy to understand. I think the greatest compliment I was ever paid about my preaching came from old George Hurt when he said to me, The thing I like about your preaching, Pastor, is that you never say anything I can’t understand. And if Eileen were still with us, she would readily confirm that wherever we went people would say the same. I am so grateful to God for that ability. I did not learn it. It was just the way he made me. But not just me. It’s the true evidence of the ministry of every teacher, and I’m so grateful for those the Lord sent to work alongside me endowed with a similar gifting. I have already mentioned Ernest and Joan Anderson who moved back into pastoral ministry in 1980 and John Carter who died at Mattersey in 1981 and their significant contribution to the life of the College. After their departure I was so pleased that Colin Warner, who had started with us as a visiting lecturer, accepted the invitation to come to us in a full-time capacity as our Director of Studies in 1980 and saddened by his decision to leave us in 1983. Colin, who is now with the Lord, was a gifted man with great academic ability and did much in those early years to steer us towards a more academic curriculum. His decision to leave arose from a difference of opinion between us and I am aware that I could probably have handled things better. However, I’m glad to record that he went on to a fruitful ministry in the Coventry assembly and as a lecturer at Birmingham Bible Institute. A few years later we also worked happily together on the AoG Executive Council. David and Beryl Allen joined us in September 1983 and faithfully served the College throughout my principalship, retiring in 2005, a year after me. Beryl taught the first-year English course and as College Librarian did a great job in turning what had previously been little more than a collection of books into a well organised and properly classified library. Towards the end of her time she was assisted by Anne Dyer, who caried on the great work after Beryl retired. Dave, as he preferred to be called, had, like Beryl, formerly been a schoolteacher before entering the AoG ministry. He taught a variety of subjects including Church History, his knowledge of which never ceased to amaze me. He later became the College Dean, taking the responsibility for matters of discipline. Dave is now with the Lord, but I, along with many generations of Mattersey students, have every reason to be grateful for the massive contribution he and Beryl made to the success of the College. Colin Hurt also joined us in 1983. Colin and Julia had been AoG missionaries in Malaysia and, on hearing him preach, I instantly recognised a man with an outstanding teaching ministry. Colin had no formal theological qualifications, but, for that matter, neither had I! Julia had received a word from the Lord that I was going to invite him to teach in the College, so when I asked to see him he happily accepted and the served the College full-time from 1983-85 and again, after a few years back on the mission field, from 1988-93. He taught a wide variety of subjects and was greatly appreciated by students and both he and Julia, who assisted Eileen on the domestic side, were great assets to the life of the College. William and Anthea Kay joined us in 1984. Eileen and I already had a strong relationship with William and Anthea because of the years we spent together in Basingstoke. My only reluctance in inviting them to come to Mattersey was that I wasn’t sure if the Board of Governors would approve. Three things might count against William. He was a personal friend, and the appointment might look like favouritism. He was not an AoG minister, and he had a PhD which might be seen as a negative rather than a positive because of the anti-academic attitude of some of our ministers at the time. But the Lord encouraged me with a verse in Isaiah which lit up for me as I was praying about William: I have called him, I will bring him, and he will succeed in his mission. So I shared my concerns with the Board and was delighted to hear George Forrester, the chairman, say, Well brothers, I think that if David feels that we should appoint this brother, we should do so and the Board unanimously agreed. Anthea ran the College’s Correspondence Course Department for several years and William taught a variety of courses until his departure in 1994 to a post with the University of Wales. But his main contribution to the College was his firsthand knowledge of Higher Education, his personal encouragement to me to do an MTh and then a PhD, and his help in enabling us to get accreditation for our BA in Biblical Theology. He went on to help other Pentecostal colleges across Europe and beyond to gain similar accreditation and did indeed succeed in the mission to which God had called him. The next member of faculty to join us full-time was Vernon Ralphs who served as Director of Studies from 1986 until his retirement in 2000. Along with those I have already mentioned, Vernon was a key player in helping the College upgrade its academic programme. He also had a clear prophetic edge prophesying in 1986 that within three years the Iron Curtain that divided Eastern Europe from the West would be removed, and it was of course in 1989 that the Berlin Wall was broken down. Teaching staff who joined us full-time late on included Richard Davis, Glenn Balfour, Andrew Davies, Dave Garrard, and Robin Routledge. Richard Davis replaced Brian Quar as Bursar but also taught some of our courses after he had completed our MA in Pentecostal and Charismatic Studies. He served the College from 1994 until some time after I retired. Glenn Balfour and Andrew Davies were both former students who had taken our London BD course back in the eighties. They had gone on to acquire Master’s degrees and eventually PhDs in Theology. They started to lecture part-time in 1994 and in 2000 took up permanent posts with us. They continued to serve well beyond my principalship, Glenn becoming Principal for a short period and Andrew a Professor at Birmingham University. Dave and Ruth Garrard were Canadians who served as missionaries in Africa. They came to Mattersey in 1996, Ruth working with Eileen on the domestic side, and Dave, who had a PhD relating to Missions, bringing fresh insights on the subject and teaching a variety of other courses too. He was still teaching at Mattersey when I left. And finally, at about the same time, Robin Routledge joined the faculty. A local Baptist minister with a charismatic experience and a PhD in Old Testament Studies, Robin was a highly valued member of our team and eventually became full-time during Paul Alexander’s time as principal. But of course the full-time faculty, important as they were, were by no means the only reason for the success of the College. Over the years there were many visiting lecturers, as well as various chaplains, secretaries, cook supervisors, kitchen and domestic staff, gardeners, and maintenance engineers. These all got a mention in my final report to Conference in April 2004 the text of which I will include in a later talk. For now, it is enough to say that I will always be profoundly grateful to all concerned for their contribution, however great or small. As I have often said, We could not have done it without you.
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310 My Story Talk 23 Improving the College Facilities
08/06/2025
310 My Story Talk 23 Improving the College Facilities
My Story Talk 23 Improving the College facilities The Urgent Need for Action When we arrived at Mattersey it was abundantly obvious to all concerned that, to say the least, the facilities on campus were far from satisfactory. Set in seven acres of beautiful grounds the setting was certainly picturesque, but the old mansion, Mattersey Hall, was in constant need of attention, as were the other two buildings. Before AoG acquired it, Mattersey Hall had most recently been used as a Preparatory School for young boys. A Memorial Hall had been erected over the road by Mrs. Sowerbutts, the widow of the previous principal, but this was no longer being used as David Powell had thought it too expensive to heat. There was also a building adjacent to the old mansion that had been erected, I think, in the 1930s to provide dormitories for the prep-school boys. During Powell’s principalship, our male students were housed in these dormitories which were poorly heated – one of them the students called ‘the icebox’ – and another which accommodated ten men who each had a bed, a small wardrobe, and a chair. Another two dorms had no internal access to the toilets and, in the snowy winters Mattersey was experiencing at the time, visiting the toilet at night was a far from pleasant experience. The conditions for the ladies, though limited, were somewhat better. They were housed in three upstairs rooms in the old mansion. Each room had its own washbasin and provided accommodation for five students, but, as with the men’s dorms, there was no private personal space. What’s more, the heating system was far from adequate, there were no recreational facilities, and the laundry facilities were a couple of twin-tub washing machines, suitable for a private house, but not for 40-50 students living together for 40 weeks of the year. The classrooms had chairs but no desks. There was no chapel and virtually no library. By contrast, Eileen and I were very grateful for the beautiful new house that was built for us in the College grounds during our first year at Mattersey, but we were naturally very concerned about the conditions for the students. Needless to say, we dealt with these problems as quickly as we could. The twin-tubs were replaced with two industrial quality washing machines. We made a start on getting the books in the library classified and turned a large hut in the grounds that had been used for storing junk into a games room with facilities for table tennis, darts, and snooker, though I was conscious that in those days some of our pastors would not approve of such things! But to make the major changes that we really wanted to see meant erecting in the College grounds a hall of residence that would cost hundreds of thousands of pounds, and, as I have already pointed out, although the College was officially owned and controlled by AoG, it was not funded by AoG! There were occasional gifts from churches, but these amounted to less than 5% of what was needed to run the College. Apart from that, our only other source of income was what the students paid in fees. And what the students could pay in fees was largely dependent on whether or not they could get a grant from their Local Education Authority (LEA). And that depended on where they lived as grants for courses at colleges like ours were entirely at the discretion of the LEA. It became clear to me that, if we wanted to be able to pay for the improvements we needed, we would need either to upgrade the standard of our courses so that our students would be more likely to get grants, or to receive a miraculous injection of cash which only the Lord could provide. In the end it took both. Our finances became much stronger when we finally received validation for degree courses in 1992, but until then any major improvements would only come through faith in God’s ability to supply the need miraculously. And that would require faith – but not just mine. The College was not mine. I knew I would need the full backing of the Board of Governors to go ahead. The need was obvious to all concerned, but the Board rightly felt that the matter was so big that we should seek the advice and approval of the Executive Council, and at a joint meeting it was decided we should not proceed without the backing of the AoG General Conference. But first we needed to gather sufficient information about the specific cost and details of the project, and my first task was to establish whether to not we would be likely to get planning permission. The Hall of Residence – a leap of faith On contacting the Bassetlaw District Council early in 1979, I was delighted to hear that they foresaw no objection to our building and recommended we apply for outline planning permission, and, with the help of Mr Jeffery, a brother recommended by Pastor Eddie Durham who was a member of the Board, outline planning was approved in January 1980. Meanwhile, Hedley Palmer, another member of the Board recommended that we consider as a builder PJ Whitehurst who had done some excellent work in constructing several of our churches. His representative, Mr John Grice visited the college and, understanding our requirements, recommended that we adopt a rather different plan designed by PJ Whitehurst at a cost of £524,560. This would provide 120 individual study-bedrooms, and a new dining hall and kitchen all under one roof. The Board met with the Executive Council to discuss this proposal, and it was agreed that we should go ahead subject to the approval of Conference and that as Principal I should write a letter to be countersigned by Keith Munday as General Secretary and sent out ahead of Conference to give time for the delegates to consider the matter and pray about it. During the debate, as was only to be expected, a wide diversity of views was expressed, ranging from a comment by David Powell, the previous Principal, that he had a grave sense of foreboding about the whole matter to those who were enthusiastically in favour. The difficulty was that there was no money to pay for the project! Perhaps that’s why for me what proved to be the most significant contribution to the debate was what George Parrott said. For him the only important issue was whether I as Principal had heard from God about the matter. And, to be honest, I had to say that I had not, but that did not alter the fact that we desperately needed these new facilities. If God was in it, I was sure that he would provide the money. Finally, the matter was put to the vote and to my relief received the necessary two-thirds majority. Once the decision was taken, my friend Brian Quar, who was not only a pastor but also a Civil Engineer and a Director of a Design and Construct Contracting Company, wrote to the Board expressing his delight at the decision made at Conference, but also pointing out two areas of concern. He explained these in some detail and recommended an appropriate course of action offering to be of help in any way he could. As a result, he was coopted onto the Board of Governors for the purposes of the building project and two years later moved to Mattersey to take up the combined roles of College Bursar and Pastor of the AoG church in Mattersey. I will always be grateful to the Lord for sending Brian and Audrey to us. He relieved me of any responsibility of overseeing not only this building project but also the construction of our new chapel and classrooms in 1998. Brian is now with the Lord, but I take this opportunity to express my gratitude for his friendship and help without which much of what was accomplished at Mattersey would not have been possible. Progress seemed relatively slow over the next few months, but that was probably a good thing because although AoG had voted to go ahead with the project, they had not promised to pay for it! After the vote had been carried by so large a majority, I fully expected the money to come pouring in. But very little came! Everyone seemed to be leaving it to everyone else! As the time for the signing of the contract drew near we still had very little money, and I began to be anxious. Who has to sign the contract? What happens if the money doesn’t come in? Who goes to prison if the money doesn’t come in?! These were serious questions that were troubling my mind, and I kept remembering George Parrott’s question: David, have you heard from the Lord? Eventually, in desperation I said to Eileen, I need to hear from God about this. I’m going to pray all night, and if he doesn’t speak to me, I’m going to phone the Board of Governors and cancel the whole thing. So I began my night of prayer . After several hours, at around 2am, I began to feel like giving up. God wasn’t speaking and I really didn’t know what to do. I decided to take a break, so I sat down on the settee and picked up a copy of Redemption Tidings magazine. As I opened it the title on the editorial page struck me forcibly: FAITH. So I began to read. Now if you have ever been in desperate need to hear from God and have been in a meeting where someone has brought a prophetic word which you have known was just for you, you will understand just how I felt as I read that editorial. Every single word of it came as Thus says the Lord to David Petts. I knew that God had spoken. I knew that we were to go ahead. I knelt down by the settee and sobbed into the cushion and asked God to forgive me for my lack of faith . Then I went to bed. From that moment I never doubted that God was behind our building project after all. But that is not the end of the story. The next morning I went down to the College and walked into the office. Ernest Anderson was standing there and I excitedly told him what had happened. That’s wonderful, David, he said, I was praying all night too. I thought it was strange that we had both decided independently to pray all night and I could not imagine why he had decided to do so. Oh, I said, What were you praying for? I was praying for the same thing, he replied, I knew that unless you, as the Principal of the College, heard from God, the thing would never happen. Oh, thank you Ernest, I said, but you could have gone to bed at 2 o’clock! I immediately telephoned Colin Whittaker, the editor of the magazine. Colin, I said, you have written the greatest editorial you will ever write, and I told him what had happened. Then he told me that he had known when he was writing the editorial that he was writing it for the College, but of course he could not be that explicit in print. Jesus said that every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses (Matthew 18:16) and, although the context in which he said it was not to do with guidance, I knew beyond doubt that this matter was established. I had received faith through hearing a word from God. Over the next year I went around the AoG District Councils telling them how the Lord had spoken to me. People began to be convinced that God was really in this project and at last the money began to come in. Much of it was gifts from churches, but it sometimes came in rather unusual ways from individuals, like the cheque for £1000 I received through the post with a piece of wedding cake from a couple who had just got married, or like the supermarket bag that was handed to me anonymously containing over £4000 in cash! It was through the kindness of such people that we were able to get started. There was not enough to complete the whole building, but in September 1981 we were able to complete the shell of the whole building and erect 32 new bedrooms in the first wing. This, of course, was not enough for all 85 students, but it did mean that the 3 ladies’ dorms in the old mansion could be released for other purposes. They were to become an excellent facility for the library which had previously been housed in one of the classrooms, which was far from ideal. It was not until September 1983, however, that we had sufficient funds to complete the second phase of the building. We now had over 70 bedrooms, which meant that all our residential students could now be accommodated in the new building. There were also a dining room and kitchen and a student common room, which meant that the old kitchen and dining room could now be converted into a student coffee bar and tuck shop. All this was wonderful, and we really enjoyed our new facilities, but the job was not yet complete, and the next few years were a real test of our faith. The next phase of the building was not complete until 1989 when the first floor of the entire building was eventually finished and two new classrooms were constructed on the ground floor of the final wing. These, however, were converted into 16 bedrooms only two years later when in 1991 the new building was finally as we had originally planned. Why had it taken so long? Ten years from start to finish! Only God knows, but I was certainly learning important lessons from the experience. Faith for the impossible only comes by hearing a word from God. It is through faith and patience that we inherit God’s promises. And God usually only provides things for us as we need them. We didn’t need the whole building immediately, but by the 1990s we had the facilities we would need for the great increase in the number of students that the Lord knew was coming when the college received validation to provide degree courses and the students were able to get mandatory grants. More of that next time, but no account of the improvement in college facilities would be complete without mentioning that in 1986 we were able to double the size of the campus by purchasing the seven acre field adjacent to the campus which proved a valuable asset for student recreational activities and for the Summer Praise Bible Weeks we ran for several years. And in 1998 we erected a beautiful, new chapel and classrooms in the college grounds, this time funded by a mortgage because our financial position had become so strong. So the Lord provided for us in a variety ways, not, as I had originally hoped, through the supernatural provision of half a million pounds right at the start – which, by the way, would be the equivalent of at least five million today – but gradually, as he knew we would need it, through gifts, through the hard work we put in promoting the college and making the need known, through the help and expertise we received free of charge from people who caught the vision, and, as we shall see in the next talk, through our producing a curriculum that was both thoroughly Pentecostal and at the same time was of a high enough academic standard to achieve validation for degree courses that made us more attractive to applicants because of the grants they attracted. God does provide for our needs, but he does not always do it in the ways we expect or want him to! Next time: Developing the curriculum and choosing the faculty
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309 My Story Talk 22 Facing New Challenges
07/05/2025
309 My Story Talk 22 Facing New Challenges
My Story Talk 22 Facing New Challenges We said goodbye to Basingstoke after a moving farewell weekend at the end of July 1978 and moved to Mattersey with a great sense of excitement and anticipation. We knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Lord was sending us there, but we were also aware that great challenges lay ahead, not just for the College, but for us as a family too. Challenges for the family The immediate challenge for the family was that there was nowhere suitable for us to live. The College did not have space to accommodate us for more than a few weeks before the students returned in September and although living in the attic rooms of the old building was fun for a while, it was hardly ideal for a normal family life. But fortunately we knew that the situation would not last for long. Because I was an only child and, therefore, our children were my parents’ only grandchildren, our moving to Mattersey meant that we were now 250 miles away. Naturally, my parents wanted to be nearer to us than that and decided that they would move to be near us. Some new houses and bungalows were being built in the village, right opposite the College and Mum and Dad decided to buy one of them. However, they had still not sold their bungalow in Dorset. So to resolve the problem of our accommodation as a family the Board of Governors, with the help of the AoG Property Trust, loaned my parents the purchase price of the new bungalow in Mattersey on the understanding that Eileen, the children and I could live in it until a new house could be built for us in the College grounds. My parents were to repay the interest free loan once they had sold their bungalow. This arrangement worked very well and for our first year at Mattersey we lived in the bungalow, and in the summer of 1979 had the joy of moving into Koinonia, a new four-bedroomed house which we had had the privilege of helping to design, along with the challenges of overseeing the erection of a new-build property! It was also wonderful to have my parents living closer to us than ever before since we were married. But housing was not the only challenge facing us as a family during our first year at Mattersey. The children had to adjust to new schools. Deborah was 14 and Sarah 13 and having been used to a Comprehensive School in Basingstoke had now been accepted by the Elizabethan High School in Retford where the curriculum was different and meant that they had quite a bit of catching up to do in some subjects. Jonathan was just 7 and fortunately there was a primary school in the village, where I think he settled in quite well, although he had to get used to the fact that the other children spoke with a different accent and thought that he was ‘posh’. He once came home and said to Eileen, Mummy, my friends don’t say ‘something’. They say ‘summat’. But by and large the children adjusted very well, as also did Eileen who had now become the College Matron. This was not a position she had sought. She had thought that when I became the principal she would just be my wife and lend a hand in the College when she could. However, when, shortly after my appointment, Aaron Linford, the Chairman of the Board of Governors, had asked me, Will Mrs. Petts be the Matron? and I had replied that she was not expecting to be employed by the College, he said, Well, if she becomes the Matron we can pay her. And that, of course, settled it! It did take time for Eileen to adjust to her new role which entailed heading up the entire domestic side of life at the College, but over the 21 years that she did it she grew in confidence, exercising her authority with kindness and firmness, signing off her memos to students with the letter M, which, I think some of the students understood to stand for Mum rather than Matron. I attribute much of our success at Mattersey to her, though, if she were still with us, I know she would be quick to deny it. So the move to Mattersey presented challenges to all of us as a family, but there were challenges for me personally too. These included the challenges of new responsibilities, new relationships with the staff and governors, and the expectations that my fellow AoG ministers had of me. The challenge of new responsibilities The Principal of the Bible College was appointed by the General Council, meeting at its Annual General Conference. (The General Council, which under God, was the final authority for decision-making in the fellowship, comprised all accredited AoG ministers together with delegates or representatives from churches which had no minister). The appointment was for two years, and although this was later changed to four, it meant that I was subject to re-election on a regular basis. Like all other Heads of Department in AoG (e.g. Home Missions, Overseas Missions, etc.), as Principal I had to submit an annual report to the Conference and to answer any questions before the vote for re-election took place. Although this did, I confess, lead to a certain sense of insecurity, it did mean that I knew that I was accountable, and I knew to whom I was accountable. This is vitally important for anyone privileged to hold a position of authority. And the position with which I had been entrusted carried with it a considerable amount of authority and indeed of responsibility. But that brings me to the more specific details of my responsibilities as principal. These included overseeing the welfare of the students, staff, and faculty, appointing the faculty and planning the curriculum, hiring the staff, interviewing prospective students, maintaining discipline, and promoting the College by advertising in magazines and visiting local churches, and maintaining the College property, buildings and land. But of course, I was not expected to do all this single-handed. I soon discovered that what the Lord had shown me at Basingstoke about the principles of team leadership in a local church was to be just as relevant to the leadership of the College. Despite all the authority vested in me as principal and the responsibilities that accompanied it, I was very conscious right from the start that I needed the help and advice of those who worked with me. The challenge of new relationships When we arrived at Mattersey the key workers at the College were John Carter and Ernest and Joan Anderson. Some of the previous principals on taking up office had seen fit to appoint an entirely new faculty and staff, but this was not something which I was prepared to consider. I felt that I needed the help of those who already had the experience of working at Mattersey and, anyway, asking them to leave would have hardly been fair to them, bearing in mind their faithful service to the College. John Carter was now in his eighties and living in the College as a resident tutor. He had had a long association with the College, first when his brother Howard was principal when the College was at Hampstead, and later when he himself was the principal at Kenley. For us as a family it was a great pleasure to share meals with this lovely old man in the College dining hall and gain from his wisdom and long experience of serving the Lord. He was always ready to give advice but never offered it unless I asked him for it. He remained as a lecturer at the College until the Lord took him home in 1982 when I had the privilege of officiating at his burial in the cemetery at Mattersey. Ernest and Joan Anderson and their three children were also living in the College when we arrived. It was clear to me that they had held the College together during David Powell’s principalship by their dedicated hard work. I had got to know them during my monthly visits to lecture at Mattersey and I knew that their continued service at the College would be vital for at least the first few years of my principalship. Ernest served not only as a lecturer but was also responsible for book-keeping, student ministry and evangelism, and for the upkeep of the seven acres of the grounds and garden. Joan had an incredible capacity for hard work and supervised the catering and cooking and much more. I will always be grateful to the Andersons for the help they gave me while I was finding my feet in my first few years as principal. They had faithfully carried a heavy burden, and I understood why in 1980 they decided to move back into pastoral work. We had worked happily together but there is always the potential for friction when a new leader takes over, and I’m sure that there must have been areas where they were not entirely happy with my decisions, especially as Ernest had hoped that he might have become the principal and had accepted nomination for it. But the humility and gracious spirit displayed by all concerned meant that any friction there might have been was reduced to a minimum. And what was true of the staff was also true of the Board of Governors who were also appointed by the General Council and to whom I was required to report every term. I think the support I received from the Board was probably due to three main things. Firstly, it was the Board who had nominated me for the job in the first place. Secondly, in my first year I had shared the principalship with Alfred Missen and Keith Munday, older men who contributed much to the reorganising of the College and from whom I gained a clearer sense of what might be expected of a principal. And thirdly, in line with the earlier history of the College, there was still a widespread feeling in AoG that the man of God’s choice should be given his head to lead the College as he felt led by the Holy Spirit. The members of the Board did not see it as their role to tell the principal how to run the College, but rather to support, advise, and where necessary warn. And for this I was always grateful, especially when dealing with the occasional disciplinary situation with regard to a student or even a member of staff or faculty. So the challenge of new responsibilities and new relationships was made easier because of the dedicated help of the governors, faculty, and staff. Without it we could never have achieved what, by the grace of God, we were able to accomplish during the 27 years of my principalship. But perhaps the greatest challenge I faced throughout those years was meeting the expectations of Assemblies of God. The challenge of the expectations of Assemblies of God To appreciate fully the reality of that challenge it is essential to understand the variety of expectations held at the time by my fellow ministers. These ranged from those who did not see any need at all for a college to those who saw the urgency of a thorough training, both theological and practical, for those who were called to the important task of Christian ministry. This tension arises from the fact that as Pentecostals we believe in the power of the Spirit to equip us for service, but we also believe in the authority of Scripture and the importance of understanding the Bible correctly. I remember that when I was first appointed to the Board of Governors, Tom Woods, an elderly pastor, well respected for his proven prophetic gift, approached me and said, David, I give you this charge, keep the College Pentecostal. And this, I assured him, was something I fully intended to do. But his comment almost certainly reflected a suspicion of academic learning held by many of the older Pentecostals of that generation. This was well summarised by Donald Gee, a renowned Pentecostal pioneer and former principal of the College, when, speaking of the beginnings of the college, he wrote: A movement that embodies such a special testimony to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit has always tended to look askance at even the simplest form of scholastic training. But he then goes on to acknowledge that In more mature years the genuine place and value of Bible schools has been generally conceded, and even enthusiastically welcomed, in the Pentecostal Movement. Nevertheless, at least for the opening years of my principalship, I was sometimes challenged by well-meaning ministers who suspected that the direction I was taking was too academic and I’m sure that there are still those who hold that view. But these good people clearly did not know me very well. The Lord who had baptised me in his Spirit had also given me academic ability, and I knew which was the more important! And improving the academic standard by no means prevented us from keeping the College Pentecostal. In fact, it had always been a Pentecostal college, as indeed it still is. It was started by the Pentecostal Missionary Union in July 1909. It was led by Pentecostal ministers, most notable of whom were Howard Carter (1921-1948) and Donald Gee (1951-1963), both prominent figures in Assemblies of God. However, although it always had a close relationship with AoG, it was only in 1951that it was given to AoG. Before then, during Howard Carter’s leadership, William Kay informs us that Carter had run his school without a Board of Governors and that: …though he allowed Assemblies of God representatives to inspect the premises and comment on the doctrinal position of the curriculum, it was always perfectly clear that he had the last word on what was done… and that it was his wish that at no stage should the work lose its independence. My purpose in saying this is to point out that for many years the College had run as a separate independent enterprise and although it was now, in the words of the AoG constitution, owned and controlled by Assemblies of God, it was still expected to run its own affairs and to finance itself. For example, the finances of all other AoG departments came under the control of the General Treasurer, but the Bible College employed its own bursar. So the challenges facing me were not only those of new relationships and new responsibilities, but also the ongoing tension between some Pentecostals and the academic and the dichotomy between what the AoG constitution required of me and the expectations of fellow ministers which were not always in line with that constitution or indeed with what I believed to be the will of God. However, the advice and support of the faculty and the Board of Governors were of great help, and with them behind me I learned to press ahead with what I felt the Lord was saying and leave the consequences with him. Donald Gee, Wind and Flame, p. 60 William K Kay, Inside Story, p. 208.
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308 My Story Talk 21 The Rocky Road to Mattersey 1972-1978
06/24/2025
308 My Story Talk 21 The Rocky Road to Mattersey 1972-1978
My Story Talk 21 The Rocky Road to Mattersey (1972-78) Welcome to Talk 21 in our series where I’m reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Last time I finished my series of talks on the years we spent I Basingstoke by telling you how in January 1972 God clearly told me that we were going to live at the Bible College. This didn’t happen until 1978 when I was appointed principal of the College which by then had moved from Kenley to Mattersey. Today’s talk will cover some of difficulties we faced on the way and how the Lord eventually brought us through. In December 1972, after he had served only two years as the Principal at Kenley, George Jeffreys Williamson suffered a heart attack, probably as a result of over-work combined with an accusation that was made against him by one of the students, and shortly after this the Board of Governors reluctantly accepted his resignation. Meanwhile, as there was no resident tutor at the time due to the departure of John Phillips, the Board asked some of the visiting lecturers, including me, to spend a few days at the college encouraging and taking care of the students. While I was there, Eric Dando, a member of the AoG Executive Council, asked me confidentially if I had ever thought of becoming the principal. This was not a complete surprise to me because of what the Lord had shown me earlier that year about living at the College, but at that stage I had not thought that I might be the principal. And I had never told anyone except Eileen about it. So I asked Eric why he was asking that question. He told me that it looked likely that Williamson would sadly be resigning and he felt that I might be a suitable person to take over. Although I felt that at the age of 33 I was possibly too young to be appointed to such a responsible position, I shared with him how the Lord had spoken to me back in January. The months that followed were something of a rollercoaster as Eileen and I lived with the tension that we all experience in times of uncertainty. We knew that the Lord had called us to the college, but was it his plan that I should be the principal? And was it to happen yet? All we could do was hang on to what God had shown us and rest in the certainty that whatever happens God is always in control. As it turned out, because a new principal could not be appointed until the General Conference the following May, the Board of Governors asked David Powell, the pastor of the Rotherham Assembly, to take care of the College until then. Meanwhile I was waiting to see if I would be nominated. Apart from Eric Dando, Arnold Shaw from Bracknell and Pastor Appleby from Reading had also expressed their confidence in me, but although individuals could make suggestions, nominations would only be accepted which had the support of at least one official council. And when Pastor Appleby suggested my name in a District Council meeting, the chairman, Billy Richards, said, In a few years, perhaps, which was to prove to be prophetic. I was encouraged by this, as Richards was, like Dando, a member of the Executive Council and a man I highly respected, and it was evident that he did see the potential in me but felt that now was not the right time, which confirmed what I had already suspected. It was clear that I would not yet be leaving Basingstoke, but that the Lord would fulfil his purpose for me at the proper time, and I had peace about that. That is until the unprecedented events that took place in May at the General Conference! Immediately before the vote was to take place to determine which of the men who had been nominated would be the next principal, there was a prophetic word saying that the man God had chosen knew who he was and that he should come forward and declare it! This threw the conference into confusion as it was completely contrary to the normal democratic process practised at conference. The Chairman had to make a decision. The prophecy had to be judged. He conferred with the Executive Council. The matter was put to the conference, and it was agreed to proceed in line with the prophecy. The man whom God had chosen knew who he was, and he should come forward and declare it. Was I the man? The problem was, I knew I was called to the college, but the Lord had never told me that I would ever be the principal. But while I was still churning these things over in my mind, David Powell, one of those who had been nominated, walked forward and told conference why he felt he was the man. I need to say, in passing, how unfair this procedure was to the two other nominees, one of whom, Clifford Rees, was not present because he was speaking at a meeting in another part of the conference. He told me afterwards that he would not have accepted nomination if he had not felt that he was the man. After Powell had made his statement the chairman gave opportunity for people to make comments or to ask questions, and one of those who came forward was my old pastor, Alfred Webb. His way back to his seat went right by me and I decided to ask his advice. A few months previously I had confidentially shared with him how I felt God had called me to the college, and so I quietly asked him if he felt I should share it with the conference. His reply was, Yes, it could be a B that leads to an A. So that is how I came to tell the entire conference, explaining that I had not come forward before as I could not claim that God had called me to be the principal, but that I did know that God had told me I would live at the college, and that if Brother Powell were elected, and felt it were appropriate, I would be willing to serve under him. That day Powell was appointed having received the required two-thirds majority vote of the conference, and a day or so later, when I had heard nothing from him, I approached him and said that I hoped he did not mind what I had said, to which he replied, My heart is with you I this matter, brother. Wait and see what happens. So I waited, and soon I discovered that he had appointed someone else to work with him. It was weeks later, however, before I received a letter from him saying that he would be happy for me to continue as a visiting lecturer teaching the same subjects as before. In fact, I was the only member of the old faculty who was invited to do so. I decided to accept even though my visits were to be monthly rather than fortnightly due to the fact that the college had now moved to Mattersey, some 200 miles north of Basingstoke, much further from home than Kenley had been. During the four years that David Powell was the principal, the college was facing considerable difficulties due to the fact that only part of the property at Kenley had been sold and there were insufficient funds to refurbish and develop the property at Mattersey. This was very evident each time I visited the college as a lecturer and, from 1976 onwards, as a member of the Board of Governors. And although these problems were not of Powell’s making, it was also very clear to me that there were administrative issues that could easily be rectified without incurring any additional expenditure. As a result my desire to be more fully involved in the work of the college was increasing steadily, but at the time there seemed little likelihood of this happening soon. But then, quite unexpectedly, in January 1977 Powell informed the Board of Governors that he had decided not to stand for re-election at General Conference. (At that time all heads of department were subject to re-election every two years). So the other members of the Board agreed unanimously to nominate me. But when the news was out that Powell was not standing for re-election I was not surprised to discover that two others had accepted nomination from different councils. There was of course no guarantee that I would be elected especially bearing in mind the confusion that had arisen at the time of Powell’s appointment, but I was nevertheless quietly optimistic that this might be the year when the Lord’s word to me would be fulfilled. However, shortly before the conference we received the staggering news that Powell had changed his mind! He was going to stand for re-election after all. This was, to say the least, administratively inconvenient, and was not a little nerve-racking for me, but I was reassured by the Board of Governors that they would in no way withdraw their support for my nomination. But that was by no means the end to Powell’s vacillating behaviour. On the first day of conference, he announced that he was withdrawing his name from the list of nominees. Once again the entire conference was thrown into confusion. As a result, when the vote was taken, none of the candidates received the required two-thirds majority and the appointment of the principal was placed in the hands of the Board of Governors and the Executive Council. A few weeks later, at a meeting where I was of course present as a member of the Board, various names, including mine were suggested and voted on by secret ballot, but none of us received the necessary two-thirds majority. So what next? It was finally decided to defer the appointment until the 1978 conference and meanwhile to appoint for the next year a team of three principals each of whom would serve for a term at the college but who would throughout the year be jointly responsible for the college. This was sometimes referred to later as the year of the three principals and, crazy as it may sound, turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I was appointed to serve for that year along with Alfred Missen and Keith Munday and benefitted greatly from their wisdom and greater experience in ministry as we made decisions together about the curriculum, the members of faculty, the timetable for the year, rules for students, and so on. I agreed to take the first term and, with the exception of the two weeks I was at camp in the New Forest, was resident in Mattersey from the end of July until Christmas, going home only for occasional weekends to see the family. The other weekends I was away on ministry, often with some of the students promoting the college. It was on one of these occasions that I went with about 50 of our students to Newport in South Wales. There was a big inter-church meeting on the Saturday night and on the Sunday the students went to different churches to sing, testify, and preach. I stayed in Newport to preach in the church there. After Sunday lunch the pastor, Eric Dando, asked me if I would like to phone Eileen, which of course I was grateful to do. After telling her that the weekend was going well, I asked her how she was and was shocked to hear her reply. I’m O.K., but I very nearly wasn’t! Oh! What’s happened? I replied. She told me that there had been a women’s missionary meeting in London and that she and several of the ladies from the church in Basingstoke had gone to it. They had travelled in two cars and on the way home, on the road between Reading and Basingstoke, several horses ran into the road in front of the cars. It seems that they had escaped from a nearby field. One of the horses collided with the car in which Eileen was travelling in the front passenger seat. The impact was so great that the front of the car roof caved in, to within an inch of Eileen’s head. The car was a complete write-off and, as the people from the car in front walked back to see exactly what had happened, they feared the worst. At this point it is important to explain that at that time the wearing of seat-belts was not compulsory in the U.K. and the car in which Eileen was travelling didn’t have any. Bearing in mind the speed at which the car had been travelling when it collided with the horse, both Eileen and the driver should have been thrown forward through the windscreen. Indeed, the woman seated behind Eileen was thrown forward so violently into the back of Eileen’s seat that it was twisted out of position. Yet Eileen was not thrown forward, and none of those travelling in that car was seriously injured. They all walked away relatively unharmed. Eileen told me that throughout the whole incident she was strangely conscious of something – or someone? – holding her to the back of her seat, preventing her from being thrown forward. Was it a coincidence that on that very evening I had been preaching in Newport on a subject I have rarely preached on before or since? My subject was ANGELS. On another such occasion we took a bus-load of about 45 students to Bethshan Tabernacle in Manchester. There were several hundred people in the meeting during which the students sang and testified and I preached. As soon as I had finished preaching , an Irish woman near to the back of the meeting began to speak in tongues. As I was still at the microphone, it seemed right for me to interpret so that everyone present would hear and understand what had been said. So I spoke out in faith trusting that God would give me the right interpretation for what had been said in tongues. When I had finished, we sang a hymn and the pastor closed the meeting in prayer. As soon as the meeting was over, one of our students, Guetawende Roamba from Burkina Faso, rushed up to me. He was clearly very excited, and when I asked him what was the matter, he told me that the woman who had spoken in tongues had been speaking his native language. Now in Burkina Faso they speak French, and because I speak French, I knew that she had not been speaking French. So I wondered what language it might be. What language? I asked. Moré, he replied. It’s our native African language. Only the educated people speak French as well. Frankly, at that time I had never heard of Moré – and we found out later that the Irish lady who had spoken in tongues had never heard of it either! But I was excited that I had been present when speaking in tongues had been recognised as a real language. At the same time, I was not a little concerned because I was the one who had given the interpretation! As I mentioned in an earlier talk, I had been interpreting tongues since 1960 when I was a student at Oxford, but it had always been (as it always must be) ‘by faith ’, and I had no certain evidence that the gift was genuine. I had simply trusted the promise of Jesus that God gives good gifts to those who ask him (Matthew 7:11), but it’s easy to imagine how embarrassed I would have been if I had ‘got it wrong’ in the presence of one of my Bible College students! I hardly dared ask the question, but I knew I had to. And what about the interpretation, Gueta? Was it accurate? And of course, it was. I wouldn’t be telling this story if the interpretation had been wrong! What an amazing thing! The Holy Spirit inspired an Irish woman to speak an African language which she had never heard, or even heard of, and then gave the interpretation to an English man who had never heard of it either! So exciting things were happening during the term I spent at Mattersey. The Lord was certainly encouraging us, but in the light of all that had happened at previous conferences I knew there was no guarantee that my position as principal would become permanent. Friends like Paul Newberry and Henry Drabble had told me they thought I would never be appointed as principal. My Oxford MA would count against me! And towards the end of the term there was to be a special conference at Mattersey to debate whether AoG really needed a Bible College! What’s more, humanly speaking my financial position was far from secure. Keith Davidson, one of the elders at Basingstoke had given up his secular employment to give himself full-time to the work of the church, but had exhausted his savings, so I had told the church to pay him instead of me as I felt that the Lord might soon be moving me on. These were the kind of things that were occupying my thinking until, during the New Year Convention in Denton at which I was preaching, I finally came to the conclusion that nothing really mattered except for the fact that Jesus died for me. I gave it all to him. And he did meet all our financial needs that year, although I had no guaranteed income, and in the 1978 conference I was finally appointed as Principal of Mattersey Hall Bible College.
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307 My Story Talk 20 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 5
06/12/2025
307 My Story Talk 20 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 5
My Story Talk 20 Ministry at Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 5 Welcome to Talk 20 in our series where I’m reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Last time I was telling you how God was clearly blessing my trips abroad, to Switzeralnd, France, Belgium and the USA, and, thanks entirely to the gift that God had given me, my teaching was in increasingly great demand both at home and overseas. But how did all this fit in with my responsibilities as the pastor of the church in Basingstoke? The Lord showed me that the answer lay in two things – writing and team ministry. Writing ministry Today, of course, it’s relatively easy to communicate with people all over the world by a variety of options available through the internet. But before the internet, apart from radio and television, speaking on which was not readily available, Christian literature was the main means of communicating with potentially thousands of people. What you write can travel further than you can. One example of this was Andy Anstey, a Canadian who became a student at Mattersey during the early years of my principalship. He told me that he had been baptised in the Spirit in a university library in Canada as a result of reading my book, The Dynamic Difference. I have never been to Canada, but one of my books had found its way there. It had started as a booklet I wrote for the Students’ Pentecostal Fellowship in 1971, Be Filled with the Spirit. Jim Hall had used it on my first trip to Illinois and persuaded me to expand it, as a result of which Receive Power was published in 1974 in time for my second trip to the States. It was finally published in 1978 by Gospel Publishing House, Springfield MO, under the title, The Dynamic Difference. I was also writing articles for magazines like Redemption Tidings and Youth Aflame, the AoG youth magazine. At Basingstoke I had given a series of Bible studies on the Fundamental Truths of Assemblies of God, and I asked Vernon Ralphs, the editor of Youth Aflame, if he would like me to write a series of articles on the subject. Those articles were eventually published by Peniel Press as a book under the title, Know the Truth, in 1976, and with the cooperation of the publisher, I was able to give a free copy to every AoG minister at the General Conference that year. And something similar happened with another series of articles I wrote for Youth Aflame. At Colchester I had duplicated a series of short talks for young people who had just given their lives to Jesus and these were eventually published as a book in 1977 under the title How to Live for Jesus. Both these books are still being used, over fifty years later, by a number of churches today, though Know the Truth is now published under the title You’d Better Believe It. It has been translated into several languages including German, French, Italian, Finnish, Spanish, Urdu, and Nepalese. Another publication that is still being used widely around the world is the distance learning course I wrote on the Major Prophets for the International Correspondence Institute in Brussels under the title Themes from the Prophets. I have already mentioned that this was a subject I was lecturing on in Kenley Bible College and I already had many pages of lecture notes that I had produced and duplicated for the students. So when Dr George Flattery, the brother of Warren and founder and director of ICI, asked me if I would be willing to write the course, I was happy to do so. This involved several visits to Brussels, each of which lasted for two weeks, where I could get on with writing the course undistracted. It was also a great opportunity to meet other Pentecostal educators from around the world, including the renowned New Testament scholar, Professor Gordon Fee who was writing the course on 1 Corinthians and became a good friend. So I will always be grateful for the opportunity I was given to be a part of ICI, but especially for the induction teaching they offered to all their course writers, which included the requirement to read The Art of Readable Writing by Rudolf Flesch the basic message of which, as I remember it, was to write as you speak, rather than writing in the academic style you were required to use at school or university. Other things Flesch recommended were, wherever possible, to use short words rather than long ones, personal names rather than pronouns, the active voice rather than the passive, and short sentences rather than long ones – which prompts me to close this sentence before it gets any longer! So, to summarise, I had realised that by using literature a person’s ministry could be extended far beyond their time and ability to travel. But that in itself did not solve the problem of reconciling what I perceived to be my obligations to the church where I was pastor with the travelling ministry the Lord was clearly opening up for me. And, as I was praying about this, he answered my question by whispering into my heart the word Antioch. Of course, I knew that Antioch was the place where the disciples were first called Christians (Acts 11:26), but at first I couldn’t see how it was relevant to my problem, so I decided to turn to Acts to see if I could find the answer. And I did. The answer was the development of team ministry. Developing Team Ministry The church at Antioch was started by believers who had been scattered as a result of the persecution of the church that took place after the stoning of Stephen. Some of them went to Antioch spreading the word to both Jews and gentiles and a great number of people believed and turned to the Lord. When the apostles at Jerusalem heard about this they sent Barnabas to take care of the work, and even more people became Christians. Realising that he needed help, he went to Tarsus to find Paul and brought him to Antioch. For a whole year they met with the church and taught great numbers of people. From this it is clear that they were both, to say the least, key people in the church. And yet in Acts 13 we are told that the Holy Spirit sent them away from the church for a time in order to pioneer churches in other countries. The reason they were able to do this and, on their return, find that the church was still strong, was because they were not the only leaders in the church. Acts 13:1 talks of three others at Antioch who were prophets and teachers. As I read about this it became obvious to me that this was the Lord's answer to my question. If I was to continue travelling we would need other leaders in the church. So I started on a detailed study of what the New Testament has to say about the leadership of the local church, and I discovered that churches were led by a team of elders, overseers, or pastors, and as I investigated the passages where these are mentioned I saw very clearly that these were all interchangeable terms. In the New Testament the elders were the pastors. They were the ones who were the shepherds of the flock and had the responsibility of watching over, or overseeing it. I have gone into this in detail in my book, Body Builders, and so there is no need to repeat it here. All I need to say is that I came to the conclusion that the traditional system of having just one person as the church leader really has no biblical basis and that team leadership must be the way forward. I have already mentioned how the pastor in East Saint Louis had come to the same conclusion and it soon became apparent that this was something the Lord was saying to many different leaders around the world. I preached on this in the Home Missions Conference at Weymouth in 1973 and was pleasantly surprised that I was not the only one to hold this view. But where were these new leaders for our church in Basingstoke to come from? The answer was simple. We already had them, but they had never been recognised. There were two men, David Moncaster and Keith Davidson, who, I felt, both met the biblical qualifications mentioned in 1 Timothy 3 and Titus 1. But before I asked the church to appoint them, I spent several weeks teaching about the principles of church leadership. If we are going to persuade people to break away from long held traditions it is vital that we show them very clearly that what we are proposing is in line with scripture. I have already mentioned that Bill Mitchell had already been recognised as an elder in the church before I came. But after my teaching on the biblical qualifications of elders he graciously came to me and said that in the light of what I had taught he thought he was probably a deacon rather than an elder and offered to resign. I told him that I thought he was probably right, but that, as his resignation might be misunderstood by some of the members, I would prefer him to remain as an elder, nominally at least, as long as we both understood that this was not really his role. And to this he readily agreed. So for the final few years of my time in Basingstoke the church was led by a team which we referred to as the pastoral oversight, Willaim Kay being added to the team a little later. The church continued to grow under this system of leadership, and when the Lord moved me on to Mattersey the church was in safe hands. The call to the Bible College I have already mentioned that in 1970 I started as a visiting lecturer at Kenley Bible College. On one of my visits in January 1972 I learned that John Phillips, who was a full time residential tutor at Kenley would be leaving, and as I was travelling home that evening, I was wondering who might be chosen to replace him. It would surely be someone who was already teaching at the college and I was thinking through the names in the college prospectus when I came to my own name. But I quickly dismissed the thought as I was sure that I would be considered too young for such a responsible position. And anyway, God had called me to build a big church in Basingstoke, hadn't he? But no sooner had I thought this than I felt a check in my spirit and said, But of course, Lord, I'll do whatever you want me to do. But if you ever do want me to leave Basingstoke I will need very clear guidance on the matter. You may remember the struggle I had when we first moved to Basingstoke and how for some months I wondered if we had done the right thing. I didn't want a repetition of that. But now, having prayed that prayer, I tried to put the matter out of my mind. This turned out to be harder than expected and that very night, some time between 1:00 and 2:00, on Tuesday 25th January, I woke up with a burning conviction that I was going to live at the Bible College. I tried to shake it off, but it would not go away, so I went downstairs to pray. What I said to the Lord went something like this: Lord, you know I need my sleep, so if this is of you, and you want me to go to the college, would you please tell me quickly? And he did! As I opened my King James Bible, it fell open at 2 Chronicles 34:22. I could hardly believe my eyes. It contained the words dwelt… at the college. With the exception of the parallel verse in 2 Kings 22:14, this is the only reference to the word college in the whole Bible. This had to be more than coincidence. I had asked the Lord to tell me quickly, and he did. But, rather like Moses in Exodus 3 and 4, I found myself making excuses like, I’ve only been in Basingstoke for four years, and, They wouldn’t choose me. I’m too young. I don’t have enough experience etc. But just as God had an answer for every objection Moses made, he had an answer for mine too. For each objection I made he led me directly to a Bible passage that answered it. As a result I was entirely convinced that I was going to live at the College. I didn’t know when but thought that it might be in September after John Phillips had left. In fact it was five or six years later! I have discovered that one of the hardest things in understanding the will of God is his timing. I have also discovered that God seems to give us the clearest guidance when he knows that there is trouble ahead! It’s only the certainty that we are in his will that will sustain us through trials and difficulties and tests to our faith. And there were to be plenty of those before we got to Mattersey! But that’s something for our next talk.
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306 My Story Talk 19 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 4
06/01/2025
306 My Story Talk 19 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 4
My Story Talk 19 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 4 Welcome to Talk 19 in our series where I am reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Today I’ll be talking about how, while I was at Basingstoke, the Lord started to open up a wider ministry overseas. It all began when early in 1971 Willy Droz, a pastor from Switzerland appeared on my doorstep and introduced himself. He had trained at the International Bible Training Institute in Sussex where he had met his wife Brenda. He knew about me through the SPF newsletter which reported details of my travels around the universities preaching on the baptism in the Holy Spirit. He was organising a youth weekend retreat at les Rasses in the Swiss Jura mountains and asked if I would be the main speaker. I had not been to Switzerland since my first visit in 1958 when I heard about the baptism in the Spirit from Laurie Dixon, and I eagerly accepted the invitation. But I first made sure that they would not expect me to preach in French. There are no less than four different languages spoken in Switzerland, German, French, Italian, and Romansh (spoken only by a small minority). Les Rasses is in the French-speaking area, known also as La Suisse Romande. It was fifteen years since I had taken my French A level and I had forgotten, or thought I had forgotten, all of it. So I was grateful for the assurance that my preaching would be interpreted, which was a particularly interesting experience as I was at least familiar with the language into which I was being interpreted. In some ways it’s much easier when you don’t know the language and just have to trust the interpreter, but, when you know the language, you’re constantly checking to make sure the interpreter is getting it right! And on one occasion I surprised everyone by saying, Non, je n’ai pas dit cela – No, I didn’t say that. So the French I had learnt at school had not entirely deserted me, but I have to confess that, when I was introduced to the wife of the pastor from Geneva, I could not even remember how to say, I’m pleased to meet you. It was only when in La Chaux-de-Fonds they lodged me for a few days with an elderly woman who spoke no English, that I was compelled to speak French and found the language coming back to me. But I was far from ready to start preaching in French. The opportunity to do so came three years later in March 1974 as the result of my meeting Jerry Sandidge at an SPF house party at Capel, then the home of the Elim Bible College. Jerry told me he was the director for University Action in Eurasia for the American Assemblies of God, had heard about my ministry in Britain and the USA – about which, more later – and invited me to preach in the University of Louvain (or Leuven) in Belgium on the subject, Charismatic Gifts – are they for today? He also said that he could arrange for me to speak at CBC, the Continental Bible College, later to become the Continental Theological Seminary, near Brussels, where they had two language streams, one in English and the other in French. It was there, I think, that I first met Warren Flattery, who asked if I would mind taking one of his French classes. In French? I asked. Oh no, he said, I always do it in English. To which I responded by politely asking how long he had been living in a French speaking country, and didn’t he think he ought to be doing it in French? And so I asked him for a French Bible and, as I had a day or so to prepare for it, after apologising to the class up front for the mistakes I was sure to make, I somehow managed to preach my first sermon in French. At the end of which the class applauded and Warren said, Lui, s’il peut le faire, moi, je peux le faire! If he can do it, I can do it! And the class applauded again, and from then on Warren took all his classes in French. In my case, the applause was certainly not for the quality of my French, but, I suspect, was an expression of sympathy and appreciation that I had made the effort. The next opportunity came in 1977 as a result of my meeting Marie-France, a French student at Mattersey. The Bible College had moved in 1973 from Kenley to Mattersey and in 1976, in the final week of the summer term, I was giving a lecture when I happened to mention that on one occasion in Switzerland I had spoken to someone in French. Marie-France approached me afterwards, pleased to know that there was someone she could speak to in her own language. The outcome of that conversation was that over the next few years Marie-France came to stay with us in Basingstoke on several occasions. She became a good friend of our family and a great help to me in improving my spoken French. Several of my sermons had been recorded on cassettes and Eileen had patiently typed them up, word for word as I had preached them. Marie-France kindly offered to translate them for me, so that I could refer to them whenever I might need to preach in French. The following year, having heard about me from Marie-France, the pastor of her church in Paris invited me to preach whenever I would next be on the continent. So while I was in Brussels for a fortnight writing a course for ICI (International Correspondence Institute, later to become Global University) – more of which later – I travelled to Paris for the weekend and preached one of the sermons Marie-France had translated for me. The French, of course, was excellent, but I can’t say the same about the delivery! I was so nervous that I read every word of it! And I did the same the following year when Willy Droz arranged for me to preach in several churches in Switzerland – Vevey, Ste. Croix, Payerne, Lausanne, Saxon, Colenberg, Neuveville, Couvet. I think it was in Vevey that some people came up to me after the service and, after chatting with me, in French of course, for about twenty minutes said, Thank you for your message. It was very good. But why did you read it all? To which I replied that someone had translated it for me and that I did not have enough confidence in my French to do it without reading it. But they replied, You’ve been speaking with us in perfectly good French for the last 20 minutes. You should trust in the Lord. And I can hardly believe that I made the following stupid reply, Yes, I know how to trust the Lord in English, but I don’t know how to trust him in French! But the time did come when occasionally I would have to trust the Lord to help me preach in French without notes, but that’s a story for a later talk. It’s time now to mention the trips I made to the USA while we were still in Basingstoke. I have already mentioned John Miles who was my closest friend while we were at Oxford. He was part of that group of Pentecostal students who very much took the initiative in the formation of the Students’ Pentecostal Fellowship. After graduating John spent a year or so school teaching in England before going to the Congo as a missionary. It was there he met and married Sara, an American missionary and where their first child Julia was born. By 1972 they were back in the USA where John did a PhD in French at the University of Illinois and eventually became Professor of French at Wheaton College. However, at one point they were thinking of returning to Congo and in 1972 John wrote to me saying that, if I was thinking of visiting them in the States, I should do so fairly soon. His letter coincided with one of my regular visits to Kenley Bible College where I met Don Mallough, a guest lecturer from America who, over lunch, asked me if I had ever visited the States and encouraged me to go if I had the opportunity. In those days travelling to the States was far less common than it is today, and to me the decision to go there was far from easy. However, I was talking to Eric Dando, a well-known preacher and member of the AoG Executive Council and asked him what he thought. His reply went something like this: Well, David, I go to America like I go anywhere else. If I feel that I can be a blessing to them and they can be a blessing to me, I go. That put things in perspective for me and on that basis I decided to go, even though at the time I had received no specific invitation to minister anywhere. So I arranged to go for the month of October, and shortly after received an unexpected letter. It was from Jim Hall who had heard about the work I was doing for the SPF in the universities in Britain and asked if I would do something similar in Illinois where he was the Assemblies of God Director for University Action. So that’s what I did. Jim arranged preaching engagements for me in churches morning and evening every Sunday and on Wednesday evenings. An offering was taken in each meeting, half of which was designated for the University Action department, the other half for me, to cover the cost of my airfares and a gift for my ministry. This was a complete surprise for me as I had decided to go to the States before I knew of this. It was also a wonderful answer to prayer. We had been struggling financially as the church was not yet able to pay me an adequate salary and any funds we originally had as the result of the sale of our bungalow in Colchester had now run out. But now our needs were met, and I came home with a renewed faith and expectation that God would always find a way to meet our financial needs. But the most satisfying thing about the trip was not the financial reward but the response I received in the churches and universities. I was based at Urbana with John and Sara, and I preached there the first Sunday morning I was there. I preached on repentance and was amazed to see how many people came forward in response to the appeal. I received a similar response everywhere I went, and I quickly learnt how different Americans are from us Brits in responding to an appeal. But for most of the month I was travelling around the state of Illinois accompanied by Jim Hall who acted as my chauffeur and guide and was a great encouragement to me. We learned a lot from each other over the many miles we travelled together and became great friends. We visited eight universities altogether, spending two days in each. These were: Illinois State University, Normal; University of Illinois, Urbana; Northwestern University, Evanston; Northern Illinois University, DeKalb; Western Illinois University, Macomb; Southern Illinois University Edwardsville; Southern Illinois University, Carbondale; and Eastern Illinois University, Charleston. Over the course of the three weeks we were touring, dozens of students were baptised in the Spirit and began to speak in tongues, one professor telling me how grateful he was to God ‘for the wisdom he had given’ me in the way I taught the Word and how I prayed for people to receive. And Jim Hall was so encouraged that he sent a report about my ministry to Aaron Linford, the editor of Redemption Tidings, which was published shortly after I returned to England. I made a similar trip to Illinois two years later in October 74, visiting the same universities, but this time speaking on two main themes, The fruit of the Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23), and The Christan’s Armour (Ephesians 6:10-20). On each of these trips I had left Eileen and the children back in England and we all missed each other very much. For Eileen it was particularly difficult as in 1972 Jonathan was only two, and the girls were just seven and eight. One example of this was when I returned at the end of October 72 and Eileen had driven up to Heathrow with the kids to meet me. During my trip people had asked me about the weather in England and if it was very foggy – I think they must have been watching some of the Sherlock Holmes movies – and I had replied that we occasionally get a bit of fog, but not very much. But ironically, when our flight approached Heathrow, the captain announced that our landing would be delayed because of fog. The delay was so long that we had to go back to Shannon in Ireland to refuel and we eventually landed at Heathrow four and a half hours later than scheduled. And all this time Eileen was waiting with three young children in a very crowded Heathrow. But the third time I went to the States Eileen and the children came with me. This was for six weeks from mid-February to the end of March 1977, and the children had to have special permission to miss school. This was granted on the educational value of the trip and on the condition that whenever possible they went to school in Wheaton, where John and Sara Miles were now living. Most of my ministry during the trip was in churches rather than in universities, although I did speak to students at a breakaway retreat in Carlinville, the headquarters of the Illinois district of Assemblies of God. I also conducted a seminar in Wheaton College on the baptism in the Spirit, more of which in a moment. Once again, the churches we visited were in Illinois. These included Rockford, Urbana, Granite City, Springfield, Naperville, Schaumberg, East Saint Louis (where we took the opportunity to go to the top of the famous arch), and La Grange. The experience at East Saint Louis was interesting for two reasons, first because after the morning service the whole congregation stayed behind for what they called an agapē meal, or love-feast, where they presented a delicious array of both hot and cold dishes. That church was also significant because during the meal the pastor showed me the notes of a sermon he had preached which were almost identical to what I had preached that morning. It was on the subject of team leadership based on the church in Antioch (Acts 13), about which I will say more next time. The Lord was clearly saying the same thing to different people in different parts of the world. Our experience at La Grange was even more interesting. I preached there on the first Sunday of our trip and they invited me back for a series of meetings from Sunday to Wednesday towards the end of our stay when I gave a series of talks on Gideon. We were invited by a family whose children were about the same age as ours for a typical Thanksgiving meal specially prepared for us as it was not really the season for Thanksgiving. It was on the Wednesday before the final service and we really enjoyed it, so much so in fact that we arrived a little late for the service and I was so full I could hardly preach! Even more interesting was the fact that they enjoyed the ministry so much that they asked me if I would seriously consider accepting the pastorate of the church as the pastor had recently announced that he was moving on. The offer was extremely tempting, but, as I will explain later, by this time I was already convinced that the Lord was calling me to Mattersey. Other significant features of that trip included a visit to the Assemblies of God headquarters in Springfield, Missouri, a journey to Tulsa, Oklahoma, at the invitation of Oral Roberts to attend as his guests a seminar at the Oral Roberts University, and finally, a seminar I was asked to conduct at Wheaton College on the baptism in the Holy Spirit on Saturday 19th March. On the Friday evening I had been asked to appear on television by a Christian TV station in Chicago and was on my way there accompanied by Pastor Tom Richardson when he received a phone call to say that they had made a last-minute decision to have instead a telethon evening to raise much needed funds. Although this was disappointing, we had no alternative than to return to Wheaton where the next morning I preached on the baptism in the Spirit and several came forward for prayer and were filled with the Spirit. When the meeting was over, one of them asked me if I had heard Professor James Dunn the previous evening. I said no, at which she expressed some surprise. Dunn, who is well-known for his rejection of the Pentecostal understanding of baptism in the Spirit, had given his reasons for doing so, but I, without knowing what he said, had answered him on every point. This was clearly, without my knowing it, due to the leading of the Holy Spirit in all I had said, and was in itself an evidence of the truth of what I was preaching.
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305 My Story Talk 18 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 3
05/23/2025
305 My Story Talk 18 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 3
My Story Talk 18 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 3 Welcome to Talk 18 in our series where I am reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Last time we saw how, during the years we were there, the church in Basingstoke grew as a result of the consistent and regular preaching of the gospel by means of Sunday night gospel services, evangelistic missions, personal evangelism and door-to-door work, and ministry among children and young people. And the fact that God graciously confirmed the message by miraculous signs according to his own will was undoubtedly a significant factor as the supernatural gifts of the Spirit were regularly in evidence in our meetings. But our years at Basingstoke also saw a significant widening of my ministry beyond the local church not only in preaching but also in writing, both in the UK and further afield. Ministry beyond the local church Speaking engagements within the UK With the exception of my ministry in universities and colleges as Travelling Secretary of the Students’ Pentecostal Fellowship, the vast majority of my speaking engagements were at the AoG Bible College or in AoG churches or conferences. The invitation to lecture at the Bible College, which was then in Kenley, Surrey, came in 1970 from the newly appointed Principal, George Jeffreys Williamson. Kenley was a couple of hours’ drive from Basingstoke, and I went on a fortnightly basis staying overnight and giving lectures on the Major Prophets, Comparative Religion, and New Testament Greek. Apart from the Greek, I had little or no prior knowledge about the subjects I was teaching and so the lecture preparation time was considerable. But I enjoyed the challenge and added to my personal education in the process. I could not have possibly known it then, but my time at Kenley turned out to be the start of over fifty years of teaching in Pentecostal Bible Colleges around the world. I was also receiving invitations to minister at large conventions and national conferences. Despite the charismatic renewal that was happening at the time in some of the other churches, Pentecostals, having been rejected and ostracized for decades, were still rather suspicious of what was happening, and tended to keep pretty much to themselves, gathering together in large celebrations, especially at significant times of the year, when there was a public holiday – Easter, Whitsun, August, Christmas and New Year. These were amazing times of blessing as people, hungry for the word of God, gathered for fellowship, worship, and to hear specially invited speakers. Some Easter Conventions, like the Cardiff City Temple (Elim), where I was privileged to minister on more than one occasion, would last from Thursday evening until the following Tuesday, very often with two speakers in each meeting. In the mid-seventies, when I would sometimes be booked for up to five years in advance for Easter, I preached at conventions in Preston (72 and 74), Tunbridge Wells (73), Bishop Aukland (75), Peckham (76), and Coventry (77). Apart from these popular events which were arranged by local churches, there were also national events like the AoG Annual General Conference, attended by thousands, and the Home Missions Conference organised by the AoG Home Missions Council. In 1969 I was asked to speak at the HMC Conference in Coventry on the subject, Preaching the Gospel in the 1970s. And in 1973 at a similar conference in Weymouth, I spoke on the importance of team leadership in the local church, about which I will say more next time. Even more significant, however, was General Conference which in the late sixties took place in Bognor Regis and from 1971 to 1989 was held at the Butlins Holiday Camp in Minehead reaching a record high attendance for the AoG Jubilee Conference in 1984. I was a speaker on one of the main celebrations (back then referred to as ‘rallies’) on several occasions, the first of which was in Bognor in 1969. But perhaps the greatest privilege was for many years being made responsible for speaking at the receiving meeting which was held every year for people who were seeking the baptism in the Holy Spirit. Over the years we saw hundreds begin to speak in tongues, some of whom told me that they had been seeking for years but had never heard it explained so clearly. Other events at which I ministered regularly were youth rallies organised either by local churches or by AoG District Councils, and the National Youth Rally. I was a member of the AoG National Youth Council (1973-76), who were responsible for organising this annual event at which I would usually either lead or preach. I suspect that the reason I was elected to the NYC was partly because people had come to know of the work we were doing among young people at our youth camp. That may also have been the reason for the evangelistic missions I was invited to conduct. On two occasions Colin Whittaker, who was then the AoG pastor at Luton, asked me to conduct an eight-day youth mission. For one of these I was assisted by members of the Students’ Pentecostal Fellowship who sang and testified in the evening meetings but also did a great job in distributing invitations to the young people as they came out of school. The other time, I was alone, but part of the week’s programme was to preach in one of the schools where I was supported by a Christian band and where dozens responded to the appeal at the end of my message. Another time I was asked by the Christian Union at Chester College – now Chester University – to do a five-day evangelistic mission for the students in the college. When I arrived just after lunch on the Monday, a member of staff conducted me to the bedroom they had allocated for me. I hope you don’t mind, he said, we’re putting you in a room that was occupied until recently by a student we have had to expel from the college. He had been practising witchcraft . I was rather surprised by this, to say the least, but I put a brave face on it and said, as casually as I could, Oh, that’s fine. No problem! But when I entered the room, I confess I began to wonder what evil presence might be lurking there. The half-burnt candle on the windowsill didn’t help . Had that been part of his devilish paraphernalia? Or had they just had a power -cut recently?! Then I remembered what Jesus had promised to his disciples as he sent them out on the task of world evangelisation: Surely, I will be with you always, to the very end of the age (Matthew 28:20). I reminded myself of other Bible verses like Behold I give you power over all the power of the enemy, and nothing shall by any means hurt you (Luke 10:19) and I began to take courage. I settled into my room and started to prepare myself for the meeting at which I had to speak that evening. After a few minutes there was a knock at the door. Two men stood there. They had seen the light on in my room and wondered who it was that was in there. Are you a new student? they asked. No, I replied, I’ve come to conduct a mission for the Christian Union. That’s interesting, said one of them. It’s strange they should put you in my old room. It was the man they had expelled for practising witchcraft ! He had come back to visit his friend. Of course, I invited them to the meeting that evening and the ‘witch ’ said he might come. And sure enough, when the time for the meeting came, there he was sitting in the audience. I preached the gospel and I would like to be able to say that the man gave his life to Christ, but he didn’t. Instead, he came and argued with me! This went on for some time after the meeting had closed, and after about half an hour, feeling that we were getting nowhere by arguing, I decided to invite him to come to the meeting the next day. I think you’ll be particularly interested tomorrow, I said. The subject is Jesus the way to power . How real is the supernatural ? Is it safe? I don’t think you know the first thing about the supernatural , he replied. What a challenge to a Pentecostal preacher! Well, I don’t know much about what you get up to when you practise your witchcraft , I said, but I will tell you one thing. When you come under the control of a familiar spirit , you can’t say Jesus is Lord, can you? I don’t know who was more surprised, him or me! I had said this on the basis of my understanding of 1 Corinthians 12:1-3, but I was not prepared for the effect it had on this young man. He went visibly pale and said, How did you know that? Taking courage by his reaction, I said, Because the Bible , which is God’s word tells me so. And I’ll tell you something else it says. You may not acknowledge that Jesus is Lord now, but the day is coming when you will have to, whether you like it or not. For the Bible says that one day at the name of Jesus every knee shall bow, of things in heaven and things on earth and things under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father ! As I quoted these verses from Philippians 2:10-11 to him, he retreated out of the room! I went to bed at around 11pm and fell asleep straight away, sleeping soundly until about 7 the next morning. While the students were having their breakfast, I went down the corridor to the washroom to shave. While I was shaving, I saw in the mirror the face of the ‘witch ’. He was standing right behind me. Good morning, he said. Did you sleep well? Yes, thank you, I replied. Are you sure? Yes, perfectly sure. I went to bed around eleven and slept soundly until about seven. Really? I can’t understand that! Why? What so unusual about having a good night’s sleep? Well, you see, he confessed, I was so annoyed with what you said last night that I stayed up all night practising my witchcraft . I was trying to get a poltergeist into your room to disturb you. I’ve done it many times before and it’s never failed. That’s why they expelled me from the college. I can’t understand why it didn’t work this time. Oh, I said, I wish you had told me. I could have told you not to waste your time. Don’t you know that Christians are immune to such things? Later that day he was seen leaving the college with his bag packed. Leaving? said one of the Christians. Aren’t you coming to the meeting today? No, he replied, that fellow knows too much about the supernatural. What a sad story, but despite the satanic opposition, during the course of those five days over 40 students made a decision for Christ. But finally, before we turn to the speaking invitations that began to open up for me overseas, which I’ll tell you about next time, a word about those I was receiving from within the UK apart, of course, from the things I’ve already mentioned – teaching fortnightly at the Bible College, preaching in universities and colleges, serving on the National Youth Council, and ministering at conventions, conferences and missions. In addition to all that, looking back at my diaries I discovered recently that between 1972 and 1976 I was ministering on average over twelve times a year in churches other than Basingstoke. Why do I mention this? Because with that amount of ministry there is always the danger that the family may suffer as a result of it. I am so grateful to Billy Richards who spoke to the ministers in our district about pastors who discovered that their kids had grown up before they knew it and who regretted that they had spent so little time with them. On hearing that, I was determined that that would not happen in our family, and so, whenever I returned from a trip away, Eileen and I would make sure that we all spent extra time together, like going for a drive or walk or picnic in the beautiful Hampshire countryside and followed by a favourite meal for tea. And we made sure that we always had good summer holidays too. Apart from camp, which was a holiday for the kids, but hard, though enjoyable work for Eileen and me, we always tried to make sure that as a family we had two weeks away together. At first these were always in the UK in places like North Wales and Cornwall, but our most notable trip by far was in 1976 when we went to L’Auberson, a small village just a mile from the French border in the Jura region of Switzerland. Back then holidays abroad were far less common and far more expensive than they are today, and such a trip would have been financially impossible for us had it not been for the inheritance Eileen received from her father who had sadly died from a heart attack in 1975. We travelled by car stopping overnight just once en route at a hotel – the children’s first experience in one – in La Veuve, a small village near to Chalons-sur-Marne and arrived at L’Auberson early in the evening. Actually it was earlier than we thought. We had put our watches on an hour when we entered France and assumed that the time in Switzerland was the same, but, as we found out later, in those days the time was the same as in England, so when we went to bed at what we thought was nine o’clock, people were rather surprised that we were going to bed at eight! And when we arrived at church the next morning in time for the ten o’clock service the door was still locked because it was really only nine! The pastor was Willy Droz – more about him next time – and I had not told him we were coming and had tried to time our entrance just in time for the service so that he would not ask me to preach. After all I was on holiday! So, of course, I ended up preaching after all – in French. But that brings me to the next subject – speaking engagements abroad, which we’ll talk about next time.
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304 My Story Talk 17 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 2
05/11/2025
304 My Story Talk 17 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 2
My Story Talk 17 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 2 Welcome to Talk 17 in our series where I’m reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Last time I was talking about the evangelistic missions we organised in Basingstoke, but these tended largely to attract adults, and the children and young people needed to be reached too. So that's our subject for today. Children’s Work At first, the only children we were reaching were those who came to our Sunday School, which was held at 10am before the 11am Communion Service. One of those children was Rosie Wilcox (née Wright), who later became Jonathan’s Sunday School teacher. Fifty years later, I still exchange Christmas cards every year with Rosie and her husband Paul. However, we soon began to reach other children in what was then a more unusual way. To the best of my knowledge, we were the first AoG church in Britain to organise a pre-school playgroup. I had felt for some time that most church buildings were not being used to their full potential. I talked with Bill Mitchell, the church elder, who himself was a businessman, and he wholeheartedly agreed. The church building was standing empty in the daytime for six days a week. And we were on the edge of a new council estate where most of the houses were occupied by young families. So, we checked out the legal requirements, and discovered that our facilities would accommodate up to 40 children, provided that we had one adult for every eight children present. We obviously needed to invest in the right equipment, and Eileen knew exactly what to get. In fact, with her administrative skills, she was the ideal person to take charge of the whole thing, and before Debbie and Sarah were old enough to go to school, they could be with her while she was at playgroup. We started by opening for three mornings a week, but the demand for places was such that before long we were open for five. And we had adequate workers to take the full complement of forty, so for five mornings a week, as well as supervising and organising the children in their play, they were able to tell them about Jesus. That was, of course, the most important thing, but another welcome benefit was that, from the small charge we made for each child, we were receiving enough income to pay the mortgage on the building! And an unexpected result of running that playgroup was the request I received to exorcise a ‘ghost’ from one of the nearby houses! It happened like this. It was 12 o’clock and the playgroup session was ending. I happened to be present having a chat with Bill Mitchell, when one of the mums came in and said, Is one of you the vicar? And although I don’t usually go by that title, I said, Yes, I am. She then asked if I could help her because, she said, there was a ghost in her house. Could I get rid of it? To which, knowing that in Christ we have authority over the forces of darkness, I replied, Yes, of course. How much will it cost? she said. Nothing, I replied. Wow! That’s good, she said, the spiritualist wanted a fiver. She gave me her address and, that evening, I went with another brother to visit her. We told her that her greatest security would be to let Jesus into her life and led her in a prayer for salvation. Of course, the so-called ‘ghost’ was actually a demon, because there is no biblical evidence for the existence of what people call ghosts, but the woman did not know that. She said that it usually appeared at the top of the stairs. So I went up after it and, although I could see nothing unusual, I did feel a distinct drop in temperature. So I commanded the thing, whatever it was, to leave in the name of Jesus. At once the woman, who was standing in the hall with the other brother, suddenly shrieked. There, didn’t you see it? It went right past you! So, although I couldn’t see it, I chased it down the stairs, opened the front door, and told it to get out and never come back. The following Sunday she was in church to say thank you and told me that it had gone. So running a playgroup certainly put us in contact with the people in ways we did not expect, but in Britain’s fastest growing town the playgroup and the Sunday School we ran in our church building were by no means sufficient to spread the good news among the children, and we soon decided to launch a second Sunday School in a school on the Oakridge estate. This was only possible thanks to the commitment of our teachers who, having taught in the morning in Cranbourne Lane, were willing to give up their Sunday afternoon to teach the same lessons to the children in Oakridge. Another children’s work was started by Hilda Gibbons, an elderly widow who opened her home every week to some thirty children on the Winklebury estate. And we reached hundreds of children through the holiday clubs we organised. These lasted for a week or so towards the end of the long summer holidays. They were led mainly by Anthea and William Kay assisted by other church workers, SPF students and other Christian teachers all of whom we accommodated throughout their stay. Notable examples were David Littlewood, later to become an AoG pastor, and Phyllis Parrish (née Sowter) who was baptised in the Spirit while she was with us and later became a student at Mattersey and a missionary to Bangaladesh. Youth Work Some of the older children who came to the holiday clubs were also attracted to our Friday night Youth Meeting. This was our main means of reaching young people on a regular basis and, for most of the time we were at Basingstoke, was led by me. Our church was situated right next to Cranbourne Lane Comprehensive School, where Debbie and Sarah became pupils and I became a parent governor. We also attracted young people from other parts of the town where some of our members were teachers. The church minibus, faithfully driven by William Kay, was vitally important for this work, although it wasn’t worth much financially. At the time we had no suitable garage for it, so it was parked each night in the road at the back of our house. One night, in the early hours of the morning, we were woken up by the sound of our dog barking and then I realised that someone was banging heavily on our back door. As I went to the window I became quickly aware of another noise – the constant sound of a car horn. It was our minibus, and the neighbour banging on the back door had come to ask us to silence it. I quickly threw on some clothes and hurried outside to see what I could do. To my surprise the driver’s door of the minibus was wide open. I wondered why, as I was sure I had locked it the night before. But my first task was to silence the horn, so I quickly disconnected the battery. Now the horn was silent I could go back to bed, hoping that not too many neighbours had been disturbed. Next morning, as I was apologising for the noise in the night, another neighbour told us they had seen what had happened. Two men had broken into our minibus, but the moment they opened the door the horn had suddenly started sounding. This apparently had caused the men to panic, and our neighbour had seen them running away. Their attempt to steal our minibus had been thwarted! Of course, it may be possible to think of a rational explanation for all this, but it’s important to mention that the horn on the minibus would not normally sound unless the ignition was switched on, and there was no form of burglar alarm fitted to the minibus. But whether there’s a rational explanation or not, as far as I was concerned God had protected our vehicle. He works in natural as well as in supernatural ways, and we will probably never know why that horn sounded just at the right moment – except that God knew that we needed that minibus! In addition to the weekly youth meeting, we also organised at least two week-long missions, one where Warwick Shenton was the evangelist, and another led by Paul and Janice Finn who were the national youth evangelists for Assemblies of God. We were able to get them into several of the secondary schools in the town where they spoke in school assemblies. This way we knew that the vast majority of teenagers in Basingstoke had the opportunity to hear the gospel. But it was at the regular weekly youth meeting and its associated activities that close personal relationships could be formed with the young people. We organised walks in the countryside, barbecues, and games evenings where we had great opportunities to get to know them better – and for them to get to know us better too. And nowhere was this truer than at our annual youth camp. New Forest Pentecostal Youth Camp While we were at Colchester I had organised a youth camp on the island of Mersea and, thanks to Eileen’s culinary skills and to the things I had learned as a teenager in the Boys’ Brigade, this proved highly successful. So towards the beginning of our time in Basingstoke I made enquiries as to what sites might be available for us to do something similar near us, and I discovered that the Hampshire Education Committee had one near Brockenhurst in the New Forest. It was set in beautiful countryside, was within a short driving distance from the coast, and had the advantage of flush toilets and showers! All the equipment – tents, marquees, tables, benches, cooking utensils etc. – was provided on site, which was managed by a very helpful warden, a Welshman called Eddie Davies. So we decided to give it a go and, as an initial experiment, took a group of about 15 young people for a few days in the school summer holidays. It went so well that we decided to return the following year for a full week and to invite other AoG churches to participate. I put an advert in Redemption Tidings and over the years the numbers increased to some 150 young people each week. Eileen and I planned the weekly menu which, although it was somewhat restricted by the cooking equipment provided at the site, nevertheless comprised three hot meals a day, prepared by teams of dedicated workers. The only exception to this was that when we all went out for the day – to the Isle of Wight, for example – everyone prepared their own sandwich lunch straight after breakfast with the food we provided for them. Much of the food we bought came in large cans obtained from the cash and carry store in Basingstoke and transported down to Brockenhurst in the minibus in advance. The rest we bought on a daily basis from the International store in Brockenhurst who, incidentally, issued vast quantities of Green Shield stamps, which, when you had saved enough of them, you could trade in for a variety of items displayed in the Green Shield catalogue. I seem to remember that Eileen and I got our coffee percolator that way! The daily programme involved breakfast, during which each of the tents was inspected for tidiness and hygiene, followed by a short devotional involving a song, a prayer, and a Bible reading. The daytime was taken up with recreational activities including at least one day trip to either Hengistbury Head or the Isle of Wight, afternoon trips to Milford-on-Sea, or a treasure hunt in the New Forest. As a family we all enjoyed going down to Brockenhurst a week or so in advance to prepare for this, when we would compose a poem giving clues to the route. But the most important part of the camp programme was without question the meeting we held in the marquee each evening. These involved worship, prayer, testimonies, and preaching followed by an appeal. Every year we saw dozens of young people respond, either for salvation or for a renewed commitment to Christ. And many were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues. I still receive testimonies from people, now in their sixties, of how they met with God in those meetings. After each meeting there was a break when we opened our tuck shop for half an hour. This was followed by a time of singing in the marquee, or, once a week, around a camp fire. The only exception to this was the long hot summer of 1976 when we were at camp for three weeks and when everywhere was so dry that it was illegal to light fires anywhere in the New Forest. Those weeks spent at camp during the seventies were wonderful times of blessing for all involved and form some of the happiest memories of my life. But such blessings do not come by accident. They come as the result of prayer, commitment, and teamwork. None of it would have been possible without the dedicated help of Basingstoke church members like Hilda Gibbons, and visiting pastors and their wives who over several years brought their young people to camp and shared in the work and ministry. Of special note among these were Mike and Beryl Godward from Corringham, Brian and Audrey Quar from Crossacres, Manchester, and Colin Blackman from Tonbridge Wells, all of whom became good personal friends. But these were not the only relationships that were formed or developed at camp. We really got to know our own young people much better too. Some of them came down early to help unload cans of food from the minibus and to assist in the erection of the tents, and I learned that forming relationships with young people, letting them know that you love them rather than just preaching at them, was the way to gain their loyalty and respect. This is essential if we want them to follow our example in following Christ (1 Corinthians 11:1). One example of this was Linda. She, along with her twin sister, Sue, had become regular attenders at our Friday night youth meeting. On one occasion we were having a sausage-sizzle in the church grounds. Linda was standing next to me looking into the fire when she told me she was thinking of leaving us. So, putting my arm round her shoulder, I said to her, Oh don’t leave us Linda. We all love you. We’d really miss you. Linda didn’t leave us, and her relationship with Eileen and me deepened when she came to babysit for us from time to time. I recently discovered a letter she had written to Eileen in 1974 in which she said, Entering your home is so different… there's such a lovely atmosphere within it... as soon as I entered the home I felt more confident in myself. Thanks for talking to me, so far since I've spoken to you I’ve felt up on top of the world… I want to say a big thank you, but I don't think I could ever write or say it the way I feel to a friend like you... Thank you for praying for me. Later, when her leaving college coincided with my becoming principal at Mattersey, Linda became my secretary, only leaving when she married a student from Switzerland, where she now lives. But in 2012 she made a surprise visit to England when she came to our Golden Wedding anniversary. Of course, Linda was an exceptional case, but her story does illustrate the value of making time to develop relationships with children and young people wherever possible.
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303 My Story Talk 16 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 1
05/03/2025
303 My Story Talk 16 Ministry in Basingstoke 1968-78 Part 1
My Story Talk 16 Ministry in Basingstoke (1968-78) Part 1 Welcome to Talk 16 in our series where I’m reflecting on God’s goodness throughout my life. Today I’m going to begin by telling you how in January 1968 we came to move from Colchester to Basingstoke. During 1967, as part of my SPF travels, I was preaching in Oxford when an old friend from the Elim church asked to see me. He was hoping that an Assemblies of God church might be planted there and wanted to find out if I would be interested in coming to take over its leadership. I told him that I would pray about it but that my initial reaction was that I did not feel any sense of leading in that direction. Some weeks later, I had an unexpected phone call from my friend Michael Collins who, as I have already mentioned, was a fellow student with me at Oxford and part of the original SPF group there. He told me that he had heard from Oxford that I might be thinking of leaving Colchester and that, if that were the case, he wanted to sound out whether I might be interested in coming to Basingstoke. He explained that they were looking for a pastor and would like to invite me to come and preach one Sunday. The church had not had a pastor for three years and numbers had dwindled to only 12 people. Although they were not able to pay me much, the potential was great, as they had a new building on a large piece of land and Basingstoke had a rapidly expanding population. This was an exciting challenge, but numbers at Colchester were now around 80 and I was relatively well paid. Did I really want to take on another small church and take a substantial drop in income? And did we really want to leave behind the many friends we had made at Colchester? So I told him that I did not think it likely that the Lord would move me from Colchester but that if they wanted me to preach for one Sunday I would be happy to do so. As far as moving there permanently was concerned, I determined in my heart that I would only consider it if I received a unanimous invitation from the members of the church. We would also need them to provide housing for us, as the salary they were likely to offer would be far too low for us to be able to get a mortgage. These matters were discussed when I went to preach there, and the financial position was clarified. The church’s income was £14 a week. £8 of this was taken up with mortgage repayments on the new church building and, if they needed to provide us with accommodation, the remaining £6 would be taken up with that. So anything they could offer me would be an act of faith on their part – and required not a little faith on my part too! In the circumstances, I thought it highly unlikely that they would be able to meet the criteria I had set, but 100% of the members did vote to invite me, and after a couple of months I heard that they had been able to purchase a house for us. Taking this to be the will of the Lord, we informed the friends at Colchester of our decision, sold our bungalow, and moved to Basingstoke in January 1968. The move to Basingstoke went smoothly and the house the church provided, a typical three-bedroomed semi-detached, had the advantage of central heating, a luxury we had not been used to. With the profit we made on the sale of our bungalow in Colchester, we were able to have new fitted carpets throughout, and to buy furniture for the lounge as well. We also bought a small second-hand car, having left the minibus in Colchester. We were welcomed warmly by the church members, and the building was packed for my Induction Service with people from other churches who had come to show their support. The speaker was Billy Richards, the AoG pastor at Slough, in his capacity as Chairman of the West London District Council. His cousin, Bill Mitchell, who was an elder in the church, was at the piano, and we were inspired by his God-given talent and grateful for his commitment to play at every meeting. Other key people were the deacons, Janet Collins (Church Secretary), John Nicholson (Treasurer), David Moncaster (Sunday School Superintendent), and Michael Collins. Another person who was present at the Induction Service and to become an asset to the church was William Kay, who had written to me asking advice as to how he could serve the Lord after he had graduated from Oxford. As he had come to Christ while he was at university and had had no real experience of life in a local church, I told him that this should be his first priority and made a few suggestions as to where he might go, adding as a PS that I was moving to Basingstoke and that he might like to come and help with the work there. Which he did, and within a few months a young schoolteacher, Anthea Bell, was to join our church and eventually become William’s wife and a great asset to the church. At the beginning of our time there, Eileen’s primary role, of course, was looking after Debbie and Sarah, who were still under school age, and then Jonathan who was born in October 1970. However, she was soon to find an outlet for her ministry when we started our church pre-school playgroup, but more of that later. Niggling doubts So overall there was much to encourage us during our first few months at Basingstoke, but we were missing Colchester and both Eileen and I were having doubts as to whether we had done the right thing in moving. Part of the reason for this was that when I had given up my teaching job we’d had real confirmation about it through the gifts of the Spirit, but we’d had no such confirmation about moving to Basingstoke. Could we have really missed the will of God on such an important matter? The answer came in a posthumously published article in Redemption Tidings written by Donald Gee. He was talking about how a church should choose a pastor (and, by implication, how a pastor should choose a church). He said that such matters should be determined by sound judgment and sanctified common sense, and not by the operation of spiritual gifts. And this came from the pen of a world-renowned Pentecostal leader and author of Concerning Spiritual Gifts. This was just the reassurance I needed, and I later came to realise that God’s will is not difficult. By definition, God wants his will, and if we really want it, he will ensure that we get it! We will prove his good and perfect and acceptable will if our lives are truly consecrated to his service (Romans 12:1-2). Church growth And, of course, one major aspect of God’s will is that he is not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance (2 Peter 3:9). In the years we were there, Basingstoke was the fastest growing town in England and there was a vast harvest field on our doorstep waiting to be reaped. We sought to do this in three main ways – personal evangelism, evangelistic missions, and children’s and youth work. Personal evangelism In those days the primary way of seeking to win others for Jesus was to invite people to church where they would hear the gospel. This was something we did every Sunday night in our Gospel Service, even if very often the only people there were already Christians. However, even if today it’s easy to criticise this style of evangelism, it did have the advantage of regularly reminding Christians of what the gospel is and the urgency of proclaiming it. But clearly the Gospel Service approach to evangelism would not be enough. Neither would a leaflet inviting people to our meetings, unless of course it contained a clear gospel message. Jesus did not command his disciples to go into all the world and invite people to gospel meetings. He commanded them, and he commands us, to go into all the world and preach. God’s people needed to be trained how to do so. While I was at Colchester I had completed a course on personal evangelism produced by Billy Richards and I had found this very helpful. So I decided that in our Wednesday night Bible Studies I would teach the people at Basingstoke the principles I had learned from this. We then embarked on a programme of door-to-door work, conducting a ‘religious opinion survey’, and found that most people were willing to share their views with us and for us to share the gospel with them. Admittedly, not many came to church as a result, but at least they had heard the gospel. Evangelistic Missions But our biggest attempt at reaching people with the gospel was in 1970 when we organised a fortnight’s evangelistic and healing mission conducted by evangelist Melvin Banks. I invited Melvin for two reasons. First, he was clearly gifted as an evangelist, and I had come to understand that my own gift was predominantly that of a teacher. And secondly, because remarkable results were being reported of hundreds being saved and healed through Melvin’s ministry, and I strongly believe that healing is one of the signs that God gives us to confirm the message of the gospel. In preparation for his coming, we spent months training the people for this big event, which was to be held in the Basingstoke Town Hall, not in our church, and got them ready for an intensive follow-up programme of personal visitation to the homes of those who made a decision for Christ. We printed thousands of leaflets which were designed by Melvin and which majored strongly on some of the many miracles he had seen in his ministry. Not surprisingly, on the very first night the Town Hall was packed. Melvin did not preach about healing. He preached salvation. And to my amazement, when he made the gospel appeal, 57 people raised their hand. And then he prayed for the sick. And miracles happened. It was the same every night throughout the fortnight, and by the end over 600 people had signed decision cards. I thought we were experiencing a real revival! But sadly, when our team of trained follow-up workers visited their homes, it became apparent that the vast majority had not really understood what they were doing. They had come to the meetings because they wanted to be healed and that was why they had raised their hands, even though, to be fair to the evangelist, the message he preached was not about healing, but salvation. Out of the 600 who had raised their hands, only 12 people were added to our church. Of course, we thanked God for the 12, and we had the satisfaction of knowing that the others had at least heard the gospel, but the sense of disappointment among our people was palpable. And I came to the conclusion that at least part of the problem was the advertising. People with a longstanding physical ailment will understandably try anything to relieve their suffering, and that’s what they have in mind throughout the meeting, even while the evangelist is preaching. They are prepared to do anything he tells them to, so when he tells them to raise their hand, they do, but it’s a mistake to assume that that means they are saved. And as I thought more about it I realised that Jesus and the apostles did not advertise their healings. Their healings were the advertising. So, somewhat disillusioned by this style of evangelism, it was six years before I decided to invite another evangelist for a series of meetings. I eventually asked my old pastor, Alfred Webb – who was really an evangelist rather than a pastor – if he would come and do a week’s teaching on personal evangelism followed by a week of meetings where he would preach the gospel. And this time I encouraged the people to pray for an outstanding miracle of healing that would take place before the evangelist came. And those prayers were answered in a rather dramatic way the Sunday after Easter. It was the evening service, and I was preaching about Thomas. He was the disciple who had been absent when Jesus, three days after he was crucified, appeared to his disciples on Easter Sunday. When the other disciples told Thomas that Jesus was alive, he simply refused to believe it. It was impossible! But a week later Jesus appeared to him too and showed him the wounds in his hands and feet. I remember saying something to the effect that the same Jesus whom Thomas had been able to see and touch was present with us right now even though we could not see him. After the sermon, as we sang a closing song, a middle-aged woman walked – I should say hobbled – to the front of the church. This was a complete surprise to me as she had never been to our church before and I had not invited people to come forward for prayer, as we sometimes do. Neither had I mentioned healing. So I went to her and asked: Can I help you? She responded by saying: If Jesus is present as you say he is can he heal me now? Immediately I knew that this was the miracle we had been praying for. He can and he does! I said. Be healed in the name of Jesus! And she RAN back down the aisle, instantaneously and completely healed. I found out later that her name was Ruby. She and her husband, John, both became Christians and members of our church. And when we produced the leaflets that would inform people about the visit of Alfred Webb, we told Ruby’s story and used it to point out that we all have a greater need than the healing of our bodies. What really matters is the healing of our souls, the forgiveness of our sins, which is available to all who will come to Jesus. While Alfred Webb was with us about 20 people made decisions for Christ and about 12 of them were added to the church – a far higher percentage than the 12 out of 600 people who had signed decisions cards in the Melvin Banks meetings.
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302 My Story Talk 15 Ministry at Colchester 1962-68 Part 3
04/22/2025
302 My Story Talk 15 Ministry at Colchester 1962-68 Part 3
My Story Talk 15 Ministry at Colchester 1962-68 Part 3 Welcome to Talk 15 in our series where I am reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Today is the final talk about our ministry in Colchester between 1962 and 1968. These were the first few years of our married life and so far I have shared with you about the birth of our first two children, our housing, employment, holidays and transport. We have talked about the growth of the church and the reasons for it, testified to an outstanding miracle, explained how I got to know more about Assemblies of God, and how God called me to give up my teaching job and go into full-time ministry. Today I’ll be sharing first how this led me into a wider ministry, and concluding with two important lessons I felt God was beginning to teach me. A wider ministry – the Students’ Pentecostal Fellowship If I had thought initially that God’s purpose in leading me into full-time ministry was just so that I could give more time to the local church, I was soon to learn otherwise. It certainly did that, but I soon began to receive invitations to preach in churches at weekend conventions, and, more significantly, to speak in Coleford at a National Day School Teachers’ Conference on the relevance of the baptism in the Holy Spirit in day school teaching today. It was there I met members of the AoG Home Missions Council and the National Youth Council who, if I remember correctly, had jointly organised the conference. The invitation came, no doubt, not only because I was a pastor who had until recently been a schoolteacher, but also because of my ministry in praying for people to receive the baptism and my role in the Students’ Pentecostal Fellowship. I have already mentioned how, while I was at Oxford, I was asked to share my testimony at the AoG National Youth Rally held in the Birmingham Town Hall and to contribute an article in Redemption Tidings entitled Pentecost in Oxford University. So I was by no means unknown in the wider fellowship, and it was probably not surprising that, when Richard Bolt resigned as Travelling Secretary of the SPF, I should be asked to take over his role of visiting colleges and universities, preaching and praying for students to be filled with the Spirit, which of course would not have been possible if I had remained in school teaching. Universities where I conducted meetings on those early SPF travels included Oxford, Cambridge, Leicester, Loughborough, Nottingham, Durham, and Newcastle. Later, after I had left Colchester, I also preached in the University of Louvain (Leuven) in Belgium, and in 1972 in the majority of universities in the state of Illinois. The purpose of all these meetings was to tell people about the baptism in the Spirit, explain why it was biblical, and to pray for them to receive as I laid hands on them at the close of the gathering. Among the many who received were the chaplain of Queen’s College, Cambridge, and William Kay a student at Trinity College, Oxford, who had come to Christ at a Billy Graham meeting in London. Valentine Cunningham, a student at Keble College, and the son of an AoG pastor, invited William to a meeting he had organised where I was to preach on the baptism in the Spirit. After he graduated he became a member of my church in Basingstoke, a close friend, a lecturer at Mattersey Hall Bible College, and a university professor who has contributed much to Pentecostal education around the world. Val Cunningham went on to become Professor of English at Oxford and was a great help to me when I wrote Be Filled with the Spirit, a booklet published by the SPF, which proved to be the springboard for my ministry as an author. Other former SPF members who became professors were John Miles and Michael Collins. John, after spending some years as a missionary in Congo became Professor of French at Wheaton, and Michael, after serving as SPF General Secretary, became Professor of Engineering at City University, London. He was succeeded as SPF General Secretary by Andrew Parfitt, who after spending years in school teaching, became an AoG minister, as did Jeff Clarke who received the baptism under my ministry while he was a student at Oxford, and David Littlewood who received while was a student at Essex. It is clear from all this that during the course of my lifetime Pentecostals have moved on from being suspicious of higher education to embracing it and playing an active role within it. This will become even clearer when we consider in a later talk the educational developments in our Bible Colleges. Lessons I learnt at Colchester Of course, I myself had never been to Bible College. And although I had received excellent teaching from my father and from Leslie Moxham, my pastor at Elm Park Baptist, I had received no formal training for ministry, and back then there was no provision in Assemblies of God for supervision from a more experienced minister. So I was very much learning on the job and was conscious of my need for the guidance, help, and the enabling of the Holy Spirit. But my experience at Colchester taught me many lessons. The most significant of these was learning to trust God for our needs after I had relinquished my secular employment, which I have already mentioned. But there were two other areas the importance of which I began to understand more clearly. These were: o the nature of the ministry God had given me o the importance of a balanced theology of healing. The nature of the ministry God had given me In my teens I had been greatly impressed by the ministry of Billy Graham. I had seen thousands of people walk forward in response to his appeals for salvation. Surely this kind of evangelism must be the answer and, when I felt the call to the ministry at the age of 16, I soon began to have dreams of becoming an evangelist. Later, after I was baptised in the Spirit, I came to see the importance of healing in evangelism and, as I have mentioned previously, was greatly influenced by Richard Bolt who was seeing remarkable healings in his evangelistic crusades. And at that time the American Pentecostal evangelist T. L. Osborn had made his books on healing available to students free of charge and I had read them avidly. So I now wanted to be a healing evangelist, a desire which was evident in the two evangelistic and healing missions I conducted at Colchester. And that was why, although I shared with others the responsibility of preaching and teaching on Sunday mornings and midweek Bible Studies, I always did the preaching at the Sunday evening Gospel Service. But when Harold Womersley, veteran missionary of the Congo Evangelisitc Mission visited us on itinerary, he asked me – purely out of interest, I think – about what I was teaching at our Bible Study meetings. And when I told him that, when it was my turn, I just gave whatever word the Lord had put on my heart, he graciously suggested that as the pastor it was my responsibility the feed the flock by regular and systematic teaching of the truths of God’s word. This, I think, would have been at about the time that I had given up my school teaching job, and so, taking his words to heart, I set about planning various series of weekly Bible studies, and I discovered that I really enjoyed it and, to my surprise, so did those who came to hear me. It was gradually dawning on me that my primary ministry was not to be evangelism – though I have not been totally unsuccessful in that area – but teaching. Of course, I had no idea then how that teaching gift would eventually be expressed not only in churches, but also as a Bible College principal and as a writer. But that brings me to another closely related lesson I began to learn at Colchester, the importance of a biblically balanced doctrine of healing. The importance of a balanced theology of healing As I mentioned at the beginning of this series, ever since my father told me of the healing of my aunt who had been deaf and dumb from birth, I have always believed that God still works miracles of healing today. I grew up with the belief that everyone could be healed if only they had enough faith and that the lack of miracles today was entirely due to lack of faith. This understanding was confirmed by the teaching of Richard Bolt and the books of T.L.Osborn and was directly related to the doctrine that Jesus died not only for our sins, but for our sicknesses too. We can claim our healing in just the same way as we can claim forgiveness of sins, and all because Jesus died for us. I embraced this teaching wholeheartedly, and that is what I preached. But my experience as a pastor in Colchester didn’t always seem to confirm this doctrine. It was great when we saw people healed, but what could I say to those who were not? Did I really have to tell them that the reason they were not healed was lack of faith, or that there must be some unconfessed sin in their life? And whereas this might apply in some cases, it surely was not true of all? I simply could not believe, for example, that when Jack Joliffe was diagnosed with a cancer that first disfigured him and eventually destroyed him, it happened because of lack of faith or some secret sin. I knew him too well. He was a godly man, full of faith, and an elder of our church. It’s all too easy for evangelists to preach these doctrines and then move on, while pastors are left with the care of Christians who have not been healed and have been wounded by the teaching that if they are sick it is somehow their fault. But it is not my intention in this talk to repeat what I have already said at length elsewhere. My rejection of this view is comprehensively explained in my Ph.D. thesis, Healing and the Atonement, where I argue that, although there is a sense in which healing may rightly be understood to be in the atonement, it is not true to say that Jesus died for our sicknesses in exactly they same way that he died for our sins. I have also explained this in my book Just a Taste of Heaven – a biblical and balanced approach to God’s healing power, which is available from my website . I simply mention it here because it was at Colchester that I began to question what I had previously believed about healing. Of course, we mustn’t build our doctrine on our experience, but if our experience doesn’t tally with our doctrine it’s always good to consider whether we’ve understood the scriptures correctly. So I was learning important lessons at Colchester which were to stand me in good stead for the next ten years when we would be pastoring the assembly in Basingstoke. Life is a continuing process of learning and sometimes unlearning, and Basingstoke was no exception. Next time I’ll begin by telling you how we came to move there.
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301 My Story Talk 14 Ministry at Colchester 1962-68 Part 2
04/15/2025
301 My Story Talk 14 Ministry at Colchester 1962-68 Part 2
My Story Talk 14 Ministry in Colchester 1962-68 Part 2 Welcome to Talk 14 in our series where I am reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Last time we began to talk about the years we spent in Colchester and I shared with you how the church grew during our time there and some of the reasons why. I finished by saying that I felt the Lord was showing us that the key to growth was to follow the supernatural leading of the Holy Spirit. Miracles happen as he determines and I was certainly not expecting what happened one Saturday evening. I had gone down to the church at about nine in the evening to attend to a window that would not open. As it was still fairly light, I did not at first turn the lights on. After a few minutes, however, I realised that I needed more light, so I switched them on. I mention this apparently trivial fact because, as it happens, the timing was perfect. Within half a minute someone was knocking at the church door. He later told me that he would not have stopped if he had not seen the light come on just as he approached the church . The man was in his thirties, well over six feet tall. He stood in the doorway, with tears in his eyes. I recognised him because, although he did not come to church , his grandmother had attended regularly until she died about six months earlier. I had met Billy at the funeral and had remembered his name. Come in Billy, I said. What’s the matter? Then he told me his story. He had gone to work as usual on Friday morning and had worked later than usual doing some overtime. When he arrived home late that evening, he called out to his wife, but Ingrid did not reply. As he could not imagine where she might be, he searched the house looking for her. He found her in the bedroom, on the bed, unconscious, an empty bottle of sleeping tablets beside her. Ingrid was rushed into hospital, but they were by no means confident that they would be able to resuscitate her. On Saturday there was no improvement. She was in a coma . By this time Billy was frantic. He was pacing up and down at home, when suddenly he noticed a photo of his grandmother on the piano. If only she had been still alive! She would have prayed ! So Billy tried to pray , but he just didn’t know what to say. So he jumped on his motorbike and headed for our church . As he approached it, he thought that no one was there and was about to drive past when suddenly the lights came on! I said to him: Billy, I’ll tell you why you can’t pray . The Bible says that God’s ear is not deaf so that he cannot hear, but it’s the things we’ve done wrong that have created a barrier between us and God. I asked him if he had ever asked Jesus to be his Saviour and to forgive him for the wrong things he’d done, and he said, No. When I asked him if he would like to, he said, Yes, and together we prayed and asked Jesus to come into his life. Then I prayed for Ingrid and, as I did so, my prayer turned into a command: In the name of Jesus, I rebuke this coma and command her to come out of it! This seemed a strange thing to say, as Ingrid was two miles away in the Essex County Hospital, and even if she had not been in a coma, she would not have been able to hear me at that distance! By then it was half past nine. I told Billy that Ingrid would be all right, and that he could go home – but as soon as he had gone I found myself doubting. What will I say to him if his wife dies? When Billy got home, he thought he would not be able to sleep so he sat down in an armchair. He told us later that at that moment he saw a bright light and felt a sensation of warmth flow through his body from the top of his head to the soles of his feet. The next thing he knew, it was 9 o’clock on Sunday morning. He rushed into hospital to see how his wife was and was told that she had come out of her coma . Please, he said, can you tell me exactly when it was? The nurse consulted the notes and replied: Yes, it was at exactly half past nine last night. Billy was able to take her home that afternoon. She too became a Christian and they both became members of our church . This was by far the greatest miracle we saw while we were at Colchester, but the growth of our church during the time we were there was not primarily due to miracles or our evangelistic and healing missions. It was due, as I have said, to the Lord’s strategy in placing me in a school where I could freely teach the children about Jesus, to his giving me at the same time key people to help start a youth meeting, and to the commitment of people who were prepared to exchange their car for a minibus. And as the congregation grew due to the influx of young people, adults were attracted to join us – some from other churches, others who had just moved into the area, and others who were baptised in the Spirit through my ministry in the early days of what came to be known as the Charismatic Renewal. Getting to know Assemblies of God For the first twenty years of my life I attended a Baptist church and had never even heard of Assemblies of God. Church attendance during the three years I was at Oxford involved going to the Elim church in term time and the AoG in Dagenham during vacations. So, when I accepted the pastorate of the AoG church in Colchester, I had had relatively little experience of AoG, and I am grateful that during our years at Colchester I was able to get to know more of its ministers and how the fellowship functioned at a national level. I have already mentioned some of the ministers who came to preach at our annual conventions, but we were also blessed by visits from those who came to us on itinerary to tell us of the work they were doing for the Lord, to inspire our faith, and to encourage our support for their particular area of ministry. These included missionaries like Roy Leeming pioneering a church in Belgium, Colin Blackman representing the Lilian Trasher orphanages in Egypt, Harold Womersley from the Congo Evangelistic Mission, and David Newington from Lifeline to Africa. We also had visits from Michael Jarvis and Keith Monument. Michael was the AoG National Youth Secretary and Keith the Home Missions Secretary. I was impressed by the passion of these men to win people for Jesus and both were eventually to become good friends for many years. I recently had the privilege of paying a tribute at Keith’s funeral service. Keith was a few weeks short of his 99th birthday when he died and had travelled over a million miles in Britain during his ministry for Home Missions. But apart from the visits of such wonderful people, I also got to know AoG better by attending its Annual General Conference and the quarterly meetings of the Essex District Council. It was through the DC meetings that I learned that, if I wanted to become recognised as an AoG minister, I must first apply for Probationary Status. This would last for two years and then I could apply for Full Status. So in 1964, having already been the pastor at Colchester for two years, I applied for Probationary Status. I’m so glad that the system has since been radically improved and that those who apply for status must now undergo a period as Ministers-in-Training, but back then my eligibility was assessed simply by two ministers coming to hear me preach, after which the only supervision I received was one of them saying, Go on giving them the good Word of God, brother. After that, I was left to my own devices for two years until in 1966 I was granted Full Status on the basis that my ministry was bearing fruit and was ordained at General Conference held in Clacton in May of that year. And it was during that conference that God clearly spoke to me and told me to give up my teaching job and trust him to provide for our needs. The call to full-time ministry When I felt the Lord calling me to the ministry at the age of 16, I naturally assumed that it would be my full-time occupation. And that was certainly the desire of my heart. But when we had started at Colchester the church was so small that they could not possibly pay me an adequate salary and that was why I was school teaching. And even though, by 1966, the church had grown considerably, the weekly offerings amounted to only £11 a week and I needed at least £18 a week to cover all our expenses. So when, at a Home Missions rally on the opening night of the Assemblies of God conference, pastor Eddie Durham began his sermon by throwing down a motorcycle gauntlet and challenging young men to give their lives full-time to the work of the ministry, I initially reacted by saying to God, That’s all very well, Lord. But you know that I would love to be full-time, but that simply is not possible at the moment. But I knew that with God all things are possible, and so I added, But I'm willing to step out in faith if you will only make it clear that now is the time for me to do so. And if I am to hand in my notice to the school, I will need to know by the end of this conference. I said this because my contract required that I hand in my notice by the end of May if I were not going to return to school in September. I went back to the conference meetings night after night – I could not be present during the daytime because I was teaching – and all I can say is that in one way or another the Lord spoke to me in every meeting confirming that I should give up my teaching job and trust him to meet our needs. Of course, I shared all this with Eileen who had not been able to attend the meetings because she was at home looking after the girls, and she readily agreed that I should do whatever I felt the Lord was telling me. We told no one else about this, and when what I felt the Lord was saying was confirmed through spiritual gifts in church the following Sunday morning, I made up my mind that I would ask to see the head master the very next day. But how do you tell a man who professes to be an atheist that God has spoken to you? Well, you just tell him! And actually he was quite understanding. He just asked if I could consider delaying it for another term so that he could find a replacement. I think I told him, out of courtesy, that I would think about it, but in my heart I felt sure that it would not be necessary. And, sure enough, a few days later he came to me and said that quite unexpectedly he had already found a replacement for September. When they heard the news that I was leaving, colleagues at work made comments like, David, you must have great faith. To which I replied, Well, it's not so much a matter of faith as of obedience. I just know it's what I have to do. And that's what I told the church the following Sunday morning. I made it clear that I was not looking to the church to meet our needs, but I was trusting the Lord. Some said that they thought I should have consulted them before making the decision, but I replied by explaining that I had not wanted to be influenced by man, but only by what God himself was saying. Shortly after that, the church held a meeting and discussed what they should do in the circumstances. The outcome was that they decided that they wanted to trust the Lord with me and that from then on they would pay me 75% of whatever came in the offering and they would meet the ongoing needs of the church from the remaining 25%. Of course, Eileen and I were very encouraged by this even though, judging by the level of offerings at the time, what they would give us would fall far short of what we needed. However, almost immediately, the regular offerings doubled as the people rose to the challenge, and by the time we left Colchester I was receiving a more than adequate salary. Admittedly, for the first year our faith was being tested, but God is faithful and throughout that time we never went without a meal, even though sometimes the best we could do was beans on toast! Of course, we were careful with our money. We made sure that all the bills were paid and then spent whatever was left on food! Hadn’t Jesus said that we should not be anxious about what we were to eat or drink? Our Father in Heaven would supply our need. And he did, even if for a while we had to cut out luxuries like biscuits and if the girls had to drink water rather than orange squash! And thanks largely to Eileen’s positive attitude, they never complained. They grew up to understand that, however hard up we may feel, in this country we enjoy a higher standard of living than 99% of the rest of the world’s population. I am so grateful that financial prosperity has never been high on the agenda of any of our children, and God has blessed them for it. But learning from experience that God was able to meet our needs was by no means the only benefit of giving up my teaching job. It opened the door to a much wider ministry.
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300 My Story Talk 13 Ministry at Colchester 1962-68 Part 1
04/06/2025
300 My Story Talk 13 Ministry at Colchester 1962-68 Part 1
My Story Talk 13 Ministry at Colchester (1962-68) Part 1 Our time at Colchester saw the arrival of our first two children, Deborah in 1964 and Sarah, fifteen months later in 1965. Apart from the birth of the girls, the most significant aspects of our time in Colchester were the growth of the church, my ministry beyond the local church, and the lessons the experience taught me. In this talk I’ll be dealing mainly with the growth of the church, but first a word about practical things like employment, housing, holidays, and transport. Employment, housing, holidays, and transport Before we were married, Eileen had been working in the Dagenham education office, and on moving to Colchester she found an excellent job in the education office there, which was within walking distance of our new home. She was soon promoted to a highly responsible administrative position which she held until shortly before Debbie was born. As for me, although the church was contributing £5 a week towards the rent of our bungalow, it was essential that, for the time being at least, I find full-time secular employment. For the first year, the nearest RE (Religious Education) teaching post available was in Braintree which necessitated a thirty-mile round trip every day. However, a year later a post became available in Colchester at the Alderman Blaxill Secondary School, a little over a mile from our church and a similar distance from our home. In those days the RE syllabus was based almost entirely on the Bible, so lesson preparation was not difficult, and I became very much aware that teaching 300 children every week was an important part of my ministry. I will say more later about how the Lord remarkably blessed that work, but how in 1966 the Lord called me to give up the teaching job and give myself full-time to the work of the church. The rent for the bungalow we were living in was about £28 a month, which sounds ridiculously low by today’s prices, but it didn’t seem so then bearing in mind that my monthly salary as a teacher was only £60! However, we soon discovered that some new houses were being built nearer to our church and that as a schoolteacher I could get a 100% mortgage to buy one. The monthly repayments would be just £18, £10 less than we were already paying in rent. The only problem was that the builders required a £20 deposit to secure the plot. Eileen had £20 saved up to buy a hoover, which we desperately needed, and we were wondering what to do, when my mother, not knowing anything about our plans to buy a new property, phoned to say that she was buying a new hoover and asked if we would we like her old one, which was in perfectly good condition. We saw this as a clear sign that the Lord was prompting us to make the move, and we paid the £20 deposit and moved into our new home in August, 1963. My parents also moved in 1963. They had been living in Hornchurch since before I was born, and now I was married they decided to move to a new bungalow in Eastwood, not far from Southend-on-Sea. So when the children came along we were grateful for our holidays to be visits to our parents who were equally pleased to have an opportunity to spend time with their grandchildren. Eileen’s parents were still living in Hornchurch, and it was always good to see them, but my parents’ home in Eastwood, with its proximity to the sea and the beautiful view of open countryside to the rear of the property was especially inviting. We usually travelled there on a Monday and returned on the Saturday so as not to leave the church unattended on Sundays. But that brings me to the subject of transport. During the course of my ministry, I have owned or had the use of some fifty different vehicles, ranging from my first car, a Ford Prefect, which I bought during my final term at Oxford, to my recently acquired nine-year-old Mercedes E-Class saloon. The Ford Prefect broke down in the cold winter of 1963 when the snow lay on the ground throughout January, February and most of March. I was on my way to school in Braintree when it happened, and I quickly decided that I needed something more reliable. That was when we bought our fourth Lambretta scooter, reliable because it was new, but extremely uncomfortable and at times difficult to control in that freezing weather. So it wasn’t long before I was back in a car again. In the summer I borrowed an old Bradbury van from the father of some of the children coming to our meetings. He said we could have it for the day to take them to the seaside. Unfortunately, it broke down on the way home and I was left with about a dozen kids on the roadside. As I was wondering and praying what to do, a man came by in a Humber Hawk and asked if he could help. It was a large car and somehow he bundled all the kids on to the back seat and, with me beside him in the front, kindly drove us all back home. But that gave me an idea. Maybe I should get a Humber and use it for children’s work! I looked in the local paper and saw an ad for a Humber Super Snipe, even larger than the Hawk. It was over ten years old, but I had read somewhere that if you’re buying a second-hand car it might be wise to get a big one. It might cost a bit more in fuel, but the engine was more likely to be reliable! Which has been my excuse for buying big cars ever since! So I bought it for £80 and discovered that it did 11 to the gallon in town and, if you were lucky, 19 on a run! But it did the job, and I remember on one occasion squeezing eighteen kids into it to get them to Sunday School! It was only a short distance, and I realise now how potentially dangerous that was. But in those days ‘risk assessment’ had not been invented and there was no requirement to wear a seatbelt. In fact, there were no seatbelts. Piling people into the back of a van or lorry was quite common, but of course there was far less traffic on the roads back then. And if it did enter our head that something might be risky, we just trusted the Lord to take care of us! But it soon became obvious that we needed something more suited to the task, and I traded in my Humber for a 12-seater minibus. And before long we were running four minibuses to bring people to the meetings as one person after another, following my example, exchanged their car for one. Everything we have belongs to the Lord, and if changing our car for a minibus will lead to more people coming to Christ, we should surely be prepared to do so. The commitment of such people was undoubtedly one of the reasons for the growth of the church while we were there, and that’s where we turn to next. The growth of the church The Full Gospel Mission, Straight Road, Lexden, was nothing more than a tin hut with the potential to seat at most eighty people. When Eileen and I arrived, there were only twelve regular attenders, and that included a family of four who emigrated to Australia not long after our arrival, leaving us with a congregation of eight. By the time we left, the church was packed every Sunday with eighty regular attenders, which, in the 1960s was considered rapid growth, and my main purpose in this section is to explore the reasons why. But first, a word about the church programme. Church programme When we arrived in Colchester we inherited what was a typical programme for AoG churches in those days. On Sunday mornings there was the Breaking of Bread service, otherwise known as Communion. There was a Sunday School for the children in the afternoon, and on Sunday evenings there was the Gospel Service where all the hymns and the sermon were designed to bring people to Christ, and after which there would be laying on of hands and prayer for the sick. Midweek on Tuesday evenings there was a Children’s Meeting from six to seven followed by a Prayer Meeting at nine, and on Thursday evenings there was Bible Study. There was no meeting for young people until we started one on a Friday, but more of that later. The attendance at these meetings was far from encouraging. In fact, during our first year at Colchester, the Sunday School and Children’s Meeting were attended by only a handful of children, and the midweek meetings for adults were hardly better. On Sundays, if we had visitors, numbers might rise to fifteen. I faithfully preached the gospel every Sunday evening, but in that year we saw not one single decision for Christ, largely because most Sundays everyone present was already a Christian. Apart from the weekly programme, there was the church’s Annual Convention when a guest speaker would be invited for the weekend and friends from surrounding Pentecostal churches would come for the two meetings held on the Saturday. It was good to see the building full and to hear some of the pioneers of the Pentecostal Movement like Howard and John Carter. But while these occasions were a real encouragement, they hardly made up for the weeks throughout the year when so few were attending. So what made the difference in the remaining years where we saw our numbers multiply significantly? Reasons for growth It is the Lord who builds his church, and in my view, the major reason for the growth of the church was, without a doubt, the fact that he strategically placed me as an RE teacher in a local school where I was free to teach the young people about Jesus. That, combined with the fact that he sent me key people to help me start a Youth Meeting on a Friday night, resulted in dozens of decisions for Christ, many of whom started to come on Sundays. It all started when I received an invitation to preach at the Youth Meeting in the Colchester Elim Church. After the meeting a couple of people in their early twenties asked me if we had a Youth Meeting at our church, and I said that I’d like to start one but that I had no musician. To which they responded by offering to help me. David Fletcher was an able guitarist and John Ward an excellent accordion player. Together with their fiancées, Jean and Sandra, who were good singers, they made a great group for leading worship and were, quite literally, a Godsend. All this, in the providence of God, coincided with my starting teaching in the local school and with a girl called Corinne, one of the children from a family in our church, starting there too. She provided the link between my RE lessons and the local church. I told the children about Jesus, and she told her friends where they could find out more. So we launched our new Youth Meeting by hiring a couple of coaches to provide transport to the church from just outside the school gates. My new friends from Elim provided the music and I preached. In school I had been able to tell them about Jesus, but I couldn’t make a gospel appeal in RE lessons! Now, in church, I had complete freedom, and on the very first night, when I made the appeal forty-one children made a decision for Christ. And when a number of them started coming on Sundays, on one occasion eleven of them being baptised in the Holy Spirit, there was a new sense of expectancy among the older members. They were thrilled to see young people in their meetings, and that began to attract people from other churches too, including David and Jean, John and Sandra, who decided to join us because of their work with the youth. Of course, our attempts to reach people with the gospel were not limited to the young people. I produced a quarterly newsletter which we called The Full Gospel Mission VOICE. We distributed thousands of these to the homes in the area, using my minibus on a Saturday morning to transport ten or so young people to deliver them street by street throughout the area. I can think of only one person who came to Christ through that ministry, but at least we knew that people had had an opportunity to read the gospel even if they never came to church. After I had given up my teaching job, I also conducted two evangelistic missions in our church. Each mission lasted from a Saturday through to the following Sunday. We leafleted far and wide, each leaflet containing a message about healing as well as salvation, and, of course, details of the meetings. The meetings were well attended, but mainly by Christians who wanted prayer for healing, and although there were a few decisions for Christ and some healings, I have no memory of anyone being added to our church as a result. And an SPF mission we conducted in Wivenhoe, a village near Colchester next to which the new University of Essex was about to be built, fared little better. It was a great experience for the students who participated, but there were very few local people who attended. Apart, that is, from Ian and Janet Balfour, a couple from a Strict Baptist background, who came to support us, got to know us, were baptised in the Spirit as a result, and decided to move to a house less than five minutes’ walk from our church. They had four children all under the age of five, one of whom was Glenn, later to come as a student to Mattersey Hall, and, for a time after my principalship, its principal. The Lord clearly had a purpose in our going to Wivenhoe, even if, at the time, we felt rather disappointed with the results. And Ian and Janet were not the only people added to our church as a result of receiving the baptism in the Spirit. Alan Coe, who was a work colleague of John Ward and had recently become a Christian, came along to our meetings, received the baptism, and joined our church. He proved a very faithful member, and when I was in contact with him recently was still attending regularly. David Littlewood, a former Methodist, later to become an AoG minister and a member of Mattersey’s Board of Governors, was also baptised in the Spirit in our church while he was a student at the University of Essex. But the ministry the Lord had given me of praying for people to be filled with the Spirit was not limited to those who would become members of our church. I had the privilege of laying hands on Reginald East, the vicar of West Mersea, and on Mike Eavery, the minister of the local Congregational Church and seeing them both baptised in the Spirit in their homes. So the Lord was blessing us in ways that perhaps we had not expected, and if the results of the evangelistic missions we conducted were rather disappointing, he was showing us that the key to growth was to follow the supernatural leading of the Holy Spirit. Miracles happen as he determines, and I was certainly not expecting what happened one Saturday evening. But I’ll tell you about that next time.
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299 My Story Talk 12 Brasenose College Oxford Part 3
03/28/2025
299 My Story Talk 12 Brasenose College Oxford Part 3
My Story Talk 12 Brasenose College Oxford 1959-62 (Part 3) Welcome to Talk 12 in our series where I am reflecting on God's goodness to me throughout my life. This is now the third talk about the years I spent at Oxford. So far we have talked about life at Oxford, its academic programme, and my spiritual experience while I was there. Today I'm going to share with you my developing relationship with Eileen, our decision to get married shortly after I graduated, and how the Lord led us straight into pastoral ministry rather than going to Bible college first. Keeping in touch Throughout the two years after Eileen and I met, we had seen each other almost every day. Clearly, this could not continue while I was at Oxford, but we kept in touch as much as was then humanly possible. Of course, in those days there were no mobile phones. In fact, access to landlines was not easy, and anyway, it was extremely expensive. So Eileen and I kept in touch with each other by writing letters four or five times a week. We also managed to see each other every two weeks. As I have mentioned already, the terms at Oxford were only 8 weeks long, so by going home for the weekend after four weeks, and by Eileen travelling up to see me for the weekend after weeks two and six, we were able to see each other on a fortnightly basis. This was very clear evidence of Eileen’s commitment to me as the journey on our Lambretta scooter through the busy traffic of central London was by no means easy. Obviously, we made the most of those precious weekends. On Saturdays we would often explore the surrounding countryside on our scooter or even travel further afield visiting pretty Cotswold villages like Bibury and Bourton on the Water. Or in the summer we loved getting into one of the punts moored by Magaden Bridge and heading up the Cherwell where we picnicked on the home-made sausage rolls and egg and bacon pie that Eileen had brought with her from home. On Sundays, of course, we went to church together before Eileen made the 60-mile journey back home to be ready for work on Monday. Of course, during the college vacations (which totalled half the year), the situation was completely different. I was able to see Eileen every day again. During the week, this was in the evenings as Eileen was at work during the daytime. And I was too, at least during the weeks that the schools had their holidays. As the Oxford terms were far shorter than the school terms I was able to earn some extra money by teaching in a local secondary school, which was to prove valuable for my future ministry as I was gaining experience in teaching children of a different age group from those I had taught in the years before I went to Oxford. But apart from working hours, Eileen and I saw each other every evening and every weekend. Sundays were taken up with church twice in the day, and midweek we regularly attended the Tuesday night prayer meeting, the Thursday night Bible study, and the Friday night youth meeting. We were desperate to learn more about our Pentecostal experience and the way the Pentecostal churches did things. In fact, whatever we were doing, our relationship with each other was from the start intimately connected with our relationship with the Lord and his will for our lives, even when we went on holiday. As I have already mentioned, our first holiday together was at a Christian Endeavour Holiday Home in Devon in 1959 just before I went up to Oxford. The following year we decided to explore the Lake District together. We travelled the three-hundred-mile journey on our scooter, stopping overnight in Aintree with one of Eileen’s aunts, before finally arriving at a CE Home in Kents Bank near Grange-over-Sands. We had each visited the area before, but never together, and that fortnight was a wonderful opportunity to enjoy fellowship with other Christians as well as marvelling at the beauty of God’s creation as we made daily trips into different parts of the Lakes. In 1961 we decided to go further afield and to spend four weeks touring France and northern Spain. So we exchanged our 125cc Lambretta for a new 175 which we trusted would cope well with the distances we would be travelling laden with two tents and all the paraphernalia required for camping. However, the moment we set off we both had some misgivings as the weight of luggage at the rear of the scooter made it harder to handle the machine safely, but undaunted we proceeded with caution and arrived safely at Southend airport where we had booked a flight on a cargo plane to northern France. Our first night in France was spent in a cow field with the kind permission of the farmer. We were both experienced campers, Eileen with the Girl Guides and I with the Boys’ Brigade, but we had never before been woken by the sound of cows champing round our tent pegs and we quickly agreed to depart as soon as possible, particularly as there were no ‘facilities’ available! We determined that after that we would make sure to check into proper camping sites. We travelled down the western side of France, stopping first at Paris for the weekend, camping in the Bois de Boulogne and visiting the thousand-strong Assemblies of God Church in the Rue du Sentier led by pastor André Nicole. Little did I know it then, but that was to be the first of many visits to French assemblies later in my ministry and sparked my interest in what the Holy Spirit was doing in European countries. In Angouleme we discovered that our GB plate had fallen off and, knowing that we were legally required to display one, we visited a garage there and asked if they knew where we could get a replacement. It was then that I realised how inadequate my A Level French course had been. Although we had studied numerous French authors, it was of little practical use to us now as no one had told us how to say the alphabet in French! Finally, by writing the letters down I managed to let them know what I wanted and learnt that in French GB is pronounced Jay-Bay. They told us that they could make us one, but it would take a couple of days. As a result, we had to travel further each day than originally planned which meant that we were both rather saddle-sore at the end of each day. We crossed the Spanish border between Biarritz and San Sebastian and immediately discovered that what we were doing was culturally unacceptable. Eileen was getting hoots and wolf-whistles from passing motorists because she was wearing trousers and not riding side-saddle! Of course, this would have been extremely dangerous bearing in mind the distances we were travelling each day and, at the risk of causing offense, we decided that we had no option but to carry on as we were. Extremely tired when we reached Burgos we decided to spend the night in a hotel and enjoy the luxury of proper beds. We did the same in Madrid for two or three nights before heading for Barcelona by way of Zaragoza. But before we reached Barcelona our scooter broke down on a mountain road and reluctantly I had to leave Eileen by the roadside with the scooter while I hitched a lift in a Citroen deux-chevaux into a village called Jorba to get help. It took two days to get the scooter fixed and by the time we eventually reached our campsite at Rosas, on the Mediterranean just north of Barcelona, it was already dark. A day or so later we arrived in Perpignan in southern France, intending to travel on up the eastern side of France on our way back home. But the scooter broke down again, and after two days camping at the back of an Esso station, we were compelled to return to England by train, leaving our scooter to be brought home courtesy of the RAC. Fortunately, it was still under warranty and was repaired by Lambretta after it finally arrived back in England some six weeks later. That holiday was the last we were to have together before we were married the following year and, in some ways, was a preparation for it. Like the holiday, married life is wonderful, but not without its unexpected events, delays, and difficulties. We were learning to face problems together, to be patient with each other, and to trust in the Lord to bring us through. Perhaps that’s why I tend to advise young couples, wherever possible, to go on holiday together before deciding to get married. But that brings me to how I decided to propose to Eileen. Engagement and Marriage It was during my first term at Oxford. We had been ‘going out’ together for two years, seeing each other almost every day. But we had never talked about marriage. I think that must have been because I was very conscious of how serious marriage is. Divorce in those days was far less common than it is today and for me, as a Christian, it would not have entered my head. I knew that marriage would be for life. What’s more, I knew God had called me to serve him, and choosing the right partner was vitally important. So I was reluctant to commit myself. But just before I went to Oxford my father had a word with me. You’d better make your mind up about that girl, David. It would not be fair to keep her waiting for three years while you’re at Oxford, if your intentions are not serious. Of course, I knew he was right. I had to make up my mind. The problem was, I didn’t want to give her up, but I didn’t want to marry her if she wasn’t the right one for me. Finally I did what I should have done much sooner. I decided to pray about it. I got down on my knees in my bedroom at Oxford and told the Lord my dilemma. I told him that I would gladly marry Eileen if she was God’s choice for me, but if not, I would give her up. And as soon as I said that prayer I received an overwhelming peace and an assurance that Eileen was the girl I was to marry. So, the next time I was home from Oxford, after a long and passionate kiss, I said to her, You will marry me, won’t you, darling? Yes, those were my exact words! To which she replied, Oh yes! Of course I will. So we decided to get engaged the following summer after my first year at Oxford, knowing that the earliest we could expect to marry would be after I had graduated. After gaining her father’s consent, we organised a wonderful garden party to celebrate our engagement on 2nd July, 1960, and eventually were married by Pastor Alfred Webb at Bethel Full Gospel Church, Vicarage Road, Dagenham, on 28th July, 1962. And the specially invited organist for the occasion was none other than Laurie N. Dixon, LRAM, the friend through whom I had first heard about the baptism in the Holy Spirit. Our move to Colchester After our honeymoon in Cornwall, we moved directly into our first home, a bungalow in Colchester, where I had accepted the invitation to take over the pastorate of the small AoG church there. Colchester will be the subject of our next talk, but first I need to explain why we did not consider ministry in a Baptist church and why I did not go to Bible College as originally planned. With regard to the Baptists, the explanation is simple. Once we had been baptised in the Spirit, neither of us had attended our Baptist churches apart from perhaps an occasional visit. This was largely because the minister of Hornchurch Baptist was not sympathetic to a Pentecostal understanding of scripture, and the new minister of Elm Park Baptist had stated that the Pentecostals’ exegesis of Acts was entirely unwarranted. Against this, my parents had told me that Leslie Moxham, our former Baptist minister at Elm Park, had noticed such a difference in me since I was baptised in the Spirit that he had said, If the baptism in the Spirit can make that much difference to David, I want it too. Leslie was later baptised in the Spirit and eventually became an AoG minister working with my friend Colin Blackman in the Tunbridge Wells assembly. And although, as we were to discover later some Baptists were beginning to get involved in the Charismatic Renewal, it was evident to us that our future lay with the Pentecostals rather than with the Baptists. But why didn’t I go the Bible College before taking on a church? The answer is that I tried to. Early in 1962 I applied to London Bible College. There was a section on the application form where you were required to give an account of your experience of Christ. So I mentioned not only how I had become a Christian, but also how Jesus had baptised me in the Holy Spirit. My interview lasted about an hour, most of which was taken up with what I believed about speaking in tongues. Was it for today? And if it was, was it for everyone? As a result, I received a letter a few days later saying that they felt I would do better to apply to a Pentecostal bible college! Interestingly, their rejection of my application is mentioned in Ian Randall’s history of LBC, Educating Evangelicals. The AoG Bible College was then at Kenley in Surrey. Its principal was Donald Gee. I had had a brief conversation with him after a meeting at the East Ham Easter Convention, and he had promised to send me the application form. But this never arrived. I also heard it rumoured that the lady teaching English at Kenley, on hearing that an Oxford graduate might be coming, had, presumably jokingly, commented that he’ll be probably teaching me! This, together with the fact that some of my Pentecostal friends were telling me that I didn’t need to go to Bible college, because I had got it – whatever that meant! – caused me to wonder if that was the direction I should be heading. So I said to the Lord, If you really don’t want me to go to Bible College, let someone offer me the pastorate of a Pentecostal church. And within a week, I had my answer. I received a letter from the Colchester assembly asking if I would be their pastor. There was a bungalow available for rent for six and a half guineas a week (£6.51) towards which they were prepared to contribute £5.00. Apart from that, they could offer nothing, and it was understood that I would need to seek full time secular employment. But that’s something for next time.
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298 My Story Talk 11 Brasenose College Oxford Part 2
03/19/2025
298 My Story Talk 11 Brasenose College Oxford Part 2
My Story Talk 11 Brasenose College, Oxford (1959-1962) Part 2 Welcome to Talk 11 in our series where I am reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Last time I finished by sharing with you how God powerfully spoke to me after a Philosophy tutorial through a verse in Psalm 119. Today I’ll be talking in more detail about my spiritual experience at Oxford, which, looking back on it, was to be far more significant for my future life and ministry than the academic programme I was following. The most important thing a young Christian can do when going up to university is to make sure right from the start that they find, and have regular fellowship with, other Christians. There are two main ways of doing this, either by joining the Christian Union or by attending a local church – or preferably both, which is what I did. Christian Union and Local Church The CU at Brasenose was part of the OICCU – Oxford Inter-Collegiate Christian Union. Each college CU would have its own weekly meeting for prayer and Bible study, but there was also a regular Saturday night Bible Study held at the Northgate Hall, situated close to the Oxford Union building. This was well attended by Christians from across the whole university, and I became a regular attender at both these gatherings. I appreciated the opportunity to meet Christians from different denominational backgrounds, and, bearing in mind my experience of the Anglican chaplain at Brentwood School, was particularly pleased to discover that some Anglicans actually did profess the believe the Bible! However, much as I enjoyed fellowship with these good people, having been only recently baptised in the Spirit, and having begun to appreciate Pentecostal worship, I was very aware that something very important was lacking in their meetings – the supernatural power of the Holy Spirit. Of course, things are very different today, but in those days the Charismatic Renewal had not yet begun and most Anglicans, who in my experience tended to view other denominations as somewhat inferior, were highly suspicious of, if not totally unaware of, the rapidly growing worldwide Pentecostal Movement. And, of course, I was eager to enlighten them! But first a word about the local Pentecostal church. At the time, the only Pentecostal church in Oxford was the Elim Church situated on the Botley Road just beyond Oxford Railway Station. I was keen to attend there because, however valuable membership of a Christian union may be, there really is no substitute for the life and fellowship of a local church. So throughout my time at Oxford I regularly attended on Sundays both the morning and evening services, which meant incidentally that I missed both lunch and dinner in college because the mealtimes clashed with the times of the services. More importantly, on my very first Sunday in Oxford, it was there that I met three other students who were from Pentecostal churches, which led to our meeting regularly for prayer and to the formation of the Students’ Pentecostal Fellowship. Students’ Pentecostal Fellowship The students I met after church that first Sunday morning in Oxford were, Michael Collins who came from Dorchester AoG and was in his second year at St. Peter’s Hall reading Engineering, and Gladys Bland and John Miles who, like me, were in their first year. Gladys was from East Ham AoG and was doing postgraduate work in English Literature at Somerville College, and John was from Gloucester AoG and was reading English at Regents Park College. We were all delighted to meet each other because up to then there had been relatively few Pentecostals attending university. We soon became firm friends and agreed to meet regularly together for fellowship and prayer, particularly for spiritual gifts and for Christian students from a different denominational background to be baptised in the Spirit. Michael had a friend called Philip who was already Spirit filled, and he joined our prayer group too. I will never forget the day, early in our first year, when there was a prophecy in one of those meetings that people of all denominations, including professors and university lecturers, would be baptised in the Spirit. As I’ve already mentioned, the Charismatic Renewal had not yet begun or, if it had, we had not heard of it, and to be honest, I really wondered if that could possibly happen. But it did, and in our own small way we were to be a part of it. What we didn’t know then was that similar groups were forming in other universities. There were students from a Pentecostal background at Cambridge and London Universities too, and once we heard about this we naturally wanted to get in touch with them. And a key person to help us do that was Richard Bolt. Richard had been an Anglican ordinand but after he was baptised in the Spirit in an AoG church in Durham his course at Clifton Theological College was terminated because he was laying hands on other students and praying for them to speak in tongues. Shortly after this he was welcomed by AoG and became an Assemblies of God minister based in a small assembly in Colchester. However, as the Lord was using him in healing and in leading others into the baptism in the Spirit, Richard’s ministry extended well beyond Colchester as he took time to travel to universities and colleges to encourage Pentecostal students and to pray for others who wanted to be filled with the Spirit. He was certainly a great encouragement to me and my family. My mother was baptised in the Spirit under his ministry. But before I knew anything about how the Lord was using Richard, the thought had already crossed my mind that we ought to form, at least in Oxford, a university society for Pentecostal students. The Baptists had what was known as The John Bunyan Society which met every Sunday afternoon in Regents Park College where John Miles was a student. He and I attended this quite often and I mentioned to him that I thought it might be good to have something similar for Pentecostals. As a result of this, John wrote to Aaron Linford, the editor of Redemption Tidings, the AoG weekly magazine, and asked for advice. And it was at this point that Richard Bolt told us about the Pentecostal students at Cambridge and London. All this led to a gathering in London early in 1961 when the Students’ Pentecostal Fellowship (SPF) was formed. Richard Bolt was recognised as its Travelling Secretary and Donald Underwood, a graduate of Trinity College, Dublin, as General Secretary. We organised annual weekend house-parties where students were exposed to the ministry of Pentecostal leaders, and evangelistic missions where students would sing, testify, and preach during the summer vacations. We also published a magazine known as The Pentecostal and developed a postal library service where students could borrow books by Pentecostal authors. At Oxford our group grew in numbers during our second year, partly due to an influx of students from Culham College led by Andrew Parfitt, the son of the AoG pastor at Maidstone, but also because our prayers were being answered and students from other denominations were getting baptised in the Spirit. But that leads me to how I personally started to be used in leading others into the baptism. Leading others into the baptism It all began a few weeks after I had started at Oxford when, after one of those Saturday night Bible Studies in the Northgate Hall, I was looking at a book on the bookstall which was about a revival that had broken out somewhere in Africa. Chris, one of my Anglican friends from Brasenose, saw what I was looking at and asked me if I had any personal experience of revival. So I began to tell him about the baptism in the Holy Spirit. As a result, Chris started to seek the baptism and came along to the Elim church where the pastor laid hands on him and prayed for him. But nothing happened and after a few weeks Chris came to me and said, I want you to pray for me. I’m coming to your room tomorrow and I want you to lay hands on me and pray for me. I was frankly unsure how to respond to this. I was very new to all this myself and I did not know if I had the authority to lay hands on him. I didn’t know if such things were the responsibility of pastors, and I wasn’t a pastor. But Chris was very insistent and so I agreed. The next day was Saturday and there were no lectures or tutorials for me to attend, so I decided to spend the night in prayer. This was something I had never done before, and have not done very often since, but I realised the seriousness of what Chris had asked me to do and I wanted to get it right. When Chris came the next day, we chatted for a bit, and then he said, Well, are you going to pray for me or not? I think he may have sensed that I was putting it off because, despite my night of prayer, I was nervous about it. He knelt down in front of me, and I plucked up courage and, quietly speaking in tongues, gently placed my hands on his shoulders. But nothing seemed to happen, and I didn’t know what to do, when I remembered that in the Authorised Version (which most of us were still using in those days) Acts 19:6 says that it was when Paul had laid his hands upon the Ephesians that the Holy Spirit came on them and they spoke in tongues and prophesied. In other words, the Spirit came on them after Paul laid his hands on them. And I found myself prophesying over Chris that he would receive, and that he would receive that very day. At which, Chris got up, said thank you, and left me. And I was left wondering if I had done the right thing. I had my answer at eight the following morning. I was still asleep, having had no sleep the previous night, when I was woken by something digging me in my ribs. It was Chris with his umbrella. What was he doing here? Oh, it’s you Chris. What on earth are you doing here? And then it occurred to me that he might have come to tell me what had happened, so I added, You haven’t received the baptism, have you? To which he responded as he continued to dig me in the ribs, O ye of little faith! He had, of course, received, and he told me how it had happened. After he had left me he had returned to his room and had been reading a book by, or about, the famous missionary to China, Hudson Taylor. The book emphasised that in addition to faith we need courage in our Christian lives, and Chris realised that that was just what he needed. He looked up from the book intending to say, Yes, Lord. Give me courage. But instead of doing so, he found himself speaking in tongues! Little did I know it then, but Chris was to be the first among hundreds, if not thousands, of people who have begun to speak in tongues through the ministry the Lord has given me. But that’s closely related to the subject of spiritual gifts and how I began to exercise them. Beginning to exercise spiritual gifts Shortly after I was baptised in the Spirit I visited the bookshop at the AoG National Offices at 51 Newington Causeway, London. I bought every book they had on the Holy Spirit and spiritual gifts. As a young Baptist I had received little teaching about the Spirit and none whatsoever on spiritual gifts. And I was eager to learn. I devoured books like Harold Horton’s The Gifts of the Spirit and Donald Gee’s Concerning Spiritual Gifts, and I learnt that the baptism in the Spirit is not an end in itself, but a gateway to supernatural gifts like tongues, interpretation, prophecy, and healing. And I was longing to receive and be used in whatever gifts the Lord might have for me. As it happened, I didn’t have long to wait. I was still in my first year at Oxford when I was confronted with a situation at the church I was attending. The Elim church in Oxford was a well-attended lively church where the gifts of the Spirit were regularly in operation. On a Sunday morning there were often prophecies, tongues and interpretation. Some of my Christian friends from Brasenose came along to experience Pentecostal worship and so far I had not been embarrassed in any way by what went on in the meetings. However, one Sunday morning, when fortunately none of my friends was present, somebody spoke in tongues but there was no interpretation. No explanation was given for this and, although I was still new to these things, I knew that the Bible was very clear that speaking in tongues in church should be interpreted. I probably should have asked the pastor about this, but he was a busy man and I did not know him very well. Consequently I kept quiet about the matter, but was still concerned that everything was not quite as it should be. Shortly after that, when Richard Bolt was visiting, I told him about this and asked him what I should do. He said, The answer is very simple David. You interpret. To which I replied, But I don't have the gift. He then said, Then ask for it. But, bearing in mind that 1 Corinthians 12:11 tells us that these gifts are given as the Holy Spirit determines, I asked, But I know God wants me to have it? His answer to this was along the following lines. The very fact that I was concerned about it might well indicate that God wanted me to have it. And, anyway, we know from God's word that it is his will that tongues in church should be interpreted. So I would be in God's will if I went ahead and interpreted it. I should pray about it and next time it happened I should ask God for the interpretation and then speak out in faith. Our heavenly Father gives good gifts to his children when they ask him. Although I still had questions, I decided to do what he said and over the next few weeks kept asking the Lord about the matter. Then, one Sunday morning it happened. Someone spoke in tongues and I waited, hoping that someone else would interpret it. But when no one did, I asked the Lord to give me the right words to say and immediately a few words came into my mind which I began to speak out in faith. I say in faith, but I have to confess that my faith was mingled with doubt. I was half expecting the pastor to intervene and say that this was not the right interpretation! But to my intense relief he said nothing, and after the meeting people came and thanked me for my interpretation. So from time to time, I continued to interpret tongues, but still with the occasional doubt if what I said could really be the interpretation. And later in the series I will tell you how God wonderfully confirmed the genuineness of my gift when I interpreted a tongue that was identified as a language spoken in Africa. God certainly did some wonderful things while I was at Oxford, and I realise now that I was already exercising a ministry while I was there. I was leading our SPF prayer group, teaching others about spiritual gifts, as well as preaching in churches from time to time. It seems that others were recognising this before I did, and I was soon asked to share my testimony at the AoG National Youth Rally held in the Birmingham Town Hall and to contribute an article in Redemption Tidings entitled Pentecost in Oxford University. The Lord was clearly preparing the way for my future ministry. Next time, I’ll tell you about my developing relationship with Eileen which led to our marriage immediately after I graduated and how I ultimately decided not to go to Bible College as originally planned, but to accept the pastorate of the Assemblies of God Church in Colchester.
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297 My Story Talk 10 Brasenose College, Oxford 1959-62 Part 1
03/12/2025
297 My Story Talk 10 Brasenose College, Oxford 1959-62 Part 1
My Story Talk 10 Brasenose College, Oxford, 1959-1962 Welcome to Talk 10 in our series where I'm reflecting on God's goodness to me throughout my life. Today we begin on the years that I spent at Oxford between 1959 and 1962. For me, life at Brasenose College began on Thursday, 8th October 1959, exactly one month after I had been baptised in the Holy Spirit. I travelled there by car with Eileen and my parents, who, after helping me unpack and settle into my room at the top of staircase 11, prayed with me before returning home. This was the beginning of an entirely new phase in my life. It was the first time that I was living away from home. I would be making new friends and be challenged by new ideas. But there are some things which remain constant in our lives no matter what else may change. I knew that my parents loved me. I knew that Eileen loved me, and that I loved her. And I knew that God had a purpose for my life and that I was now at Brasenose as part of that overall plan. So I had confidence that all would be well. The fact that I would now be reading PPE (Philosophy, Politics, and Economics) did not faze me, even though I had never studied any of those subjects before. My original purpose in accepting the place I had been offered had been to widen my sphere of knowledge before eventually concentrating on theology in order to prepare for the ministry. And PPE would certainly do that. But there was far more to being at Oxford than the course I would be studying. There was the social and recreational life which I greatly enjoyed. And it was a great opportunity to interact with people of all faiths and none and to share my faith with them. Opportunity, too, to tell other Christians about the baptism in the Holy Spirit, and to meet other Pentecostal students and spend time in prayer with them for the supernatural gifts of the Spirit. And it was also a time when my relationship with Eileen would be strengthened even though we would be apart for weeks on end. As I can’t cover that in just one talk, today will be aboutlife at Brasenose, its domestic arrangements, its social life and sporting activities, and the academic programme and its challenge to my faith. Next time I’ll share in more detail about my spiritual experience including how the Lord led me into leading others into the Baptism in the Spirit, how I began to exercise spiritual gifts, and how we began the Students’ Pentecostal Fellowship. And later I’ll tell you about my developing relationship with Eileen which led to our marriage immediately after I had graduated and how I ultimately decided not to go to Bible College as originally planned, but to accept the pastorate of the Assemblies of God Church in Colchester. Life at Brasenose When I arrived at Brasenose in October 1959 it was almost three years since I had been there previously in November 1956 when I had taken the scholarship examination. Back then I had never seen any of the students’ rooms, as we were staying in a boarding house in the Woodstock Road. So I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. But as soon as I entered my new room, I was pleasantly surprised. It was larger than my bedroom at home, was well furnished and overlooked one of the quads with a view of the Radcliffe Camera and the University Church of Saint Mary the Virgin in the background. Students were usually allocated a room in college for the first year of their studies, and sometimes for the second year too, when you had opportunity to choose what room you would prefer. During my first year I discovered that the room beneath me was even larger than the room I was in and had the benefit of a bedroom separate from the main room which was used as a sitting room as well as a study. So when I was offered the chance to live in college for a second year I opted for this room which proved to be extremely useful when we were holding prayer meetings for those interested in seeking spiritual gifts. But more of that next time. For my third year I lived ‘in digs’ in a boarding house on the Botley Road, just 50 yards away from the Elim Pentecostal Church which I attended throughout my time in Oxford. Meals at Brasenose were, in my opinion at least, of a high quality and I was introduced to dishes which I had never tasted at home. These included jugged hare and braised haunch of venison, the only meals I took a positive dislike to, probably because the meat was hung for several days before it was cooked which resulted in a rather unpleasant smell. Fortunately, we were allowed to sign out in advance for any evening meal, provided we dined in college at least five times a week. Dinner was a rather formal occasion at which we were required to wear our gowns, and which was preceded by a Latin grace which began with the words: Oculi omnium spectant in te Deus. Tu das illis escas tempore opportuno… which means The eyes of all wait upon you O God. You give them their food in due season, and is taken from Psalm 145:15. Sadly, however, I’m not sure that many people took it seriously, even if they should have known what it meant, bearing in mind that at the time Latin at O level was still an entrance requirement for Oxford University. Breakfast and lunch were far less formal occasions. Grace was not said and there were no requirements about a dress code or attendance. There were, in fact, very few requirements about life in college. Apart from academic regulations, what rules there were related to the time of day you had to be back in college and the time at which any female guests had to be out! The gate in the porters’ lodge was the only means of access to the College. It was locked at midnight and anyone seeking access after that would be reported to the Dean and a fine would be automatically payable. However, this could be avoided if you were agile enough to scale an eight-foot wall without being caught, something of course I never had to try! As far as the ladies were concerned, they had to be out by 10pm. This, I imagine, is no longer relevant, as, like most Oxford colleges, Brasenose rightly accepts female students as well as men. But by the time I left Oxford the ‘swinging sixties’ had hardly begun, and there was still at least a nominal acknowledgement of Christian moral values. For residential students there was also a rule about the minimum number of nights you had to be in college over the course of a term. Any absence without permission from your ‘moral tutor’ would be reported by your ‘scout’. Scouts, who were usually much older than the students, originally were little more than their servants and before my time would clean your shoes if you left them outside the door of your room. Even in my time they were referred to by their surname only, whereas they had to refer to me as Mr Petts and address me as Sir. This was something I deplored, a tradition which harked back to the old upstairs/downstairs attitude of the aristocracy still very prevalent in the early decades of the last century. If you’ve ever watched Downton Abbey you’ll know exactly what I mean. Social and sport Probably the most frequent social activity at Oxford was drinking coffee and staying up until the early hours of the morning discussing religion or politics or whatever else was currently in the news. Of course, whenever I could I took the opportunity to share my faith with anyone who would listen. Most of these discussions took place either in my room or that of fellow students whose accommodation was close to mine. And at least one of those students came to faith in Christ during his first term at Brasenose, largely through the ministry of Keith de Berry, the rector of St. Aldate’s Church, but I like to think that my testimony also played a part in his decision to give his life to Christ. He went on to gain a first class degree in Chemistry and continued at Oxford to do a D.Phil., (the Oxford version of a PhD). Now, after more than sixty years he is still a committed Christian and once told me that his scientific research had only confirmed his faith in Christ. Of course, late night discussions were by no means the only occasions when there was opportunity to witness to the truth of the gospel. So whether it was punting on the Cherwell on a lazy summer afternoon, or in the changing room after a football match, or playing tennis or table tennis (for which, in my final year, I was captain of the College team), I was always eager to share my faith. But that doesn’t mean that I was constantly ‘Bible bashing’. Far from it. I remember how on one occasion, when our team was playing tennis against another college, my doubles match had been delayed for some reason. Consequently, it looked as though I would be late for our Students’ Pentecostal Fellowship prayer meeting. But it was a three-set match, and we had lost the first set six-love and were losing the second set four-love. We had only to lose two more games, and the match would be over, and I could get off to the prayer meeting which by then had already started. But throwing away the match would hardly be fair to my partner and would not have glorified God. Then I realised that my friends would wonder where I was and would be praying for me, wherever I was or whatever I was doing. Which inspired me to say to my partner, Come on, John. We’re going to win this match. And we did. The level of our tennis suddenly improved, and, having lost ten games in a row, we went on to win all the next twelve, taking the match by two sets to one (4-6, 6-4, 6-0). I’m not sure that John believed my explanation that this was probably the result of answered prayer, but because of that experience I am personally convinced, not only that God is interested in every tiny detail of our lives, but that such experiences bear testimony to others of the reality of our faith. Academic programme The academic year at Oxford began in early October and finished towards the end of June. Each term lasted just 8 weeks which meant that the long summer vacation provided the opportunity for students to get a summer job or travel abroad or, where necessary, to catch up on their reading. Reading was, in fact, a major part of learning, and the world-renowned Bodleian Library situated virtually on the doorstep of Brasenose, provided access to millions of books and other printed items. Guidance as to which books to read was given in tutorials when your tutor would set you an essay to write in time for the following week, when you would read your essay to him and he would make appropriate comments. At the beginning of term, he would also recommend what lectures might be helpful. Attendance at lectures was entirely optional, whereas attendance at tutorials was a compulsory part of one’s course. The standard of lecturing varied immensely, some academics having very poor communication skills. As a result, attendance would steadily diminish week by week and in one case I remember the series was terminated early ‘due to an indisposition’ on the part of the lecturer! In my day, the system of assessment at Oxford, for PPE at least, was by written examination. After ‘prelims’ (preliminary examinations) which were taken in March in your first year, there was no further examination until ‘finals’ which were taken in the June of your third year. I was required to take at least two papers in each subject, Philosophy, Politics, and Economics, plus two further papers of my choice. I opted to take these in Philosophy as this was my favourite, despite the fact that it had been the most challenging to my Christian faith. For example, during my second year I had been asked by my tutor to write an essay on the ontological argument for the existence of God. This was one of the arguments used by the philosopher René Descartes in an attempt to prove God’s existence. During the course of my essay I said something to the effect that although philosophy cannot prove the existence of God it cannot disprove it either. It was at this point, as I was reading my essay to my tutor, that he interrupted me by saying: Oh, I don’t know. I think if you mean by ‘prove’ what we normally mean by ‘prove’, and if you mean by ‘God’ what we normally mean by ‘God’, then we can probably disprove God’s existence. But perhaps we can talk about it another time. This was the first time in my life that I had been confronted with such an outright denial of God’s existence, and my tutor’s statement shocked me deeply. It challenged everything I had based my life upon. I felt numb. As soon as he had left the room I instinctively wanted to call out to God for help. But what if my tutor was right and there was no God to call out to? But I called out anyway: God, if there is a God, HELP! And He did! I walked into my bedroom and picked up my Bible and opened it. It fell open at Psalm 119, verse 99. My teacher had told me that he could prove that there is no God. Who was I to challenge the statement of an Oxford tutor? But in that verse the Psalmist said: I have more insight than all my teachers, for I meditate on your statutes. I came later to realise that by reading the Bible the most simple believer can gain more understanding of the things that really matter than all the intellectual rationalising of the philosopher. That verse brought immediate reassurance to my heart. It was not just the content of the verse that reassured me – though it certainly did – but the fact that, of all the verses there are in the Bible, I should turn at random to that very one. This was surely no coincidence. God had spoken to me in a remarkable and powerful way. And as the years have gone by I have learned how to counteract the arguments of the atheists. I’m so glad now that I did not abandon my faith back then. People will always be bringing up challenges to our faith, but just because I don’t know the answer doesn’t mean that there is no answer! And until I know what it is, I just need to keep on trusting the One who said, I AM the truth.
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296 My Story Talk 9 Between Brentwood and Brasenose 1956-59 Part 2
03/06/2025
296 My Story Talk 9 Between Brentwood and Brasenose 1956-59 Part 2
My Story Talk 9 Between Brentwood and Brasenose (1956-1959) Part 2 In our last talk I mentioned that three significant things happened between my leaving school in 1956 and going up to Brasenose in 1959. I gained experience in teaching. I met Eileen, my future wife. And I received the Baptism in the Holy Spirit. And it’s the baptism in the Spirit that’s the subject for today. We’ll be talking about the events that led up to it, how I heard about it and how both Eileen and I received it. In August 1957 at a Baptist Union Summer School in the Lake District I met a man called Michael, who mentioned that the following year he was planning to go touring Europe with some Christian friends who owned a car. He asked if I would be interested in going with them and I said yes. I paid to have driving lessons so that I could share in the driving. It was a wonderful holiday, not just because of the breathtaking scenery, but because it was there in Switzerland that I first heard about the baptism in the Holy Spirit. In my book Signs from Heaven I have already recorded the miraculous escape I had from a falling boulder while climbing a mountain and how impressed I was with the simple faith of one of my new friends who prayed for me as he saw it coming straight for me. His name was Laurie and he was clearly moving in a dimension of Christianity that I knew little or nothing about. So I asked him what he had got that I hadn’t got. So he started to talk about an experience he had received after his conversion – being baptised with the Holy Spirit he called it – when the Holy Spirit had come and filled him to overflowing. He said he had spoken in tongues and told me I could read about it in the book of Acts. But although I wanted to experience more of God in my life, I wasn’t interested in speaking in tongues, and I dismissed the subject from my mind. And I might have ignored it forever had it not been for the remarkable series of events which took place the following summer when both Eileen and I were baptised in the Spirit. In the summer of 1959 we were both sitting in the youth meeting at Eileen’s church singing from a well-known chorus book, when I happened to notice a list of books advertised on the back cover, one of which was entitled, The Full Blessing of Pentecost, by Dr. Andrew Murray. The title arrested my attention. Could this be what Laurie had been talking about the previous year in Switzerland? So I decided that it might be good to get it. I mentioned this to Eileen and, without my knowing about it, she wrote to the publishers hoping to buy a copy for me, but a few days later, she received a reply saying the book was no longer available. The following Saturday morning, I went round to see Eileen and she told me that she had tried to get the book for me but that unfortunately it was out of print. A bit disappointed, I thanked her for trying anyway and, after spending the morning with her, returned home from Eileen’s to my parents’ house for lunch. As the meal was not quite ready, I went into the sitting room to wait. On entering, I happened to notice a book lying on the piano and casually picked it up – The Full Blessing of Pentecost by Dr. Andrew Murray! But how did it get there? No one, except Eileen, knew anything of my interest in the subject. My parents did not know where the book had come from. It is true that my father had always had a large collection of books, but if it was his, he certainly had never read it, and didn't even know that he possessed it. Anyway, why wasn't it in the bookcase and how did it get on the piano? No one had any idea how that book came to be there on the very day that I had been told it was unobtainable. The answer must surely lie in the realm of the supernatural. This was no coincidence. God was confirming to me that I needed to be baptised in the Spirit, and that afternoon, after I had read the book, I got down on my knees and asked God to fill me with the Holy Spirit. But nothing happened! That evening, I went round to Eileen’s and told her about the book. And after she had read the book she too started to seek for the baptism in the Holy Spirit. As Baptists, we knew next to nothing about it – only what we had read in Andrew Murray’s book, and that, as I look back on it now, did not give an entirely complete picture. As I remember it, it made a strong case for believing that there was an experience of the Holy Spirit beyond what we receive at conversion, but there was no mention of speaking in tongues as the evidence. As a result we weren't exactly sure what we were asking for, but I had the distinct impression that if I was going to receive the Holy Spirit I needed to prepare myself by becoming more holy. I remember thinking that if I could only live a sinless life for a month, or maybe even a week, or even just today, perhaps God would fill me with the Holy Spirit. I remember driving my father's car taking care not to exceed the speed limit when, as I was going down a hill in a 30 zone, I noticed that the speedometer had gone up to 32 m.p.h. Oh no, I thought, I’ve missed receiving the baptism for another day! Of course, I now understand, and frequently teach, that the Holy Spirit is a gift and can’t be earned! But back then I was getting frustrated by trying the achieve an experience of the Spirit by my own efforts and inevitably failing. So I thought I would write to Laurie who had told me about the baptism in the Spirit in the first place. What should I do? To which he replied, David, all I can say is that if you are really thirsty, you will drink. But this was even more frustrating. The problem was, I had no idea how to drink! Laurie lived quite a distance from me and I didn’t feel like writing back and saying, Thanks Laurie. That’s very helpful, but please, how do I drink? So Eileen and I decided on a different approach. Perhaps we should find a Pentecostal Church and see if they could help us. It turned out that the nearest one was Bethel Full Gospel Church which was about five miles away in Dagenham, and easily reached on our recently acquired Lambretta scooter. So we drove over to take a look at it and discovered from the noticeboard that there was a prayer meeting every Tuesday evening. I was quite nervous about it as I had never been in a Pentecostal meeting before, but we were pleasantly surprised and were impressed with the number of people praying, even though prayers were interspersed with lots of Amens. We, of course, as good Baptists were only used to saying Amen at the end of a prayer! But what really impacted us was the use of the gift of tongues and interpretation. In the middle of the prayer time there were three ‘messages’ in tongues each of which was promptly interpreted. And we knew that God was speaking to US. These people did not know who we were. We had arrived just in time for the meeting and had had no time for conversation before the meeting began. So when we heard the opening words of the first interpretation we were completely amazed: You have come into this church seeking to be filled with the Spirit! All three interpretations were equally directly relevant to us, and as a result we spoke with the pastor after the meeting and explained who we were and why we had come. His name was Alfred Webb, and he encouraged us to come the following Tuesday and sit on the front row where anyone ‘seeking the baptism’ would be prayed for with the laying on of hands. So that’s what we did, but we were rather disappointed when nothing seemed to happen when he laid hands on us. This happened week after week until we finally received after we had come back from our summer holiday in Torquay, Devon. That holiday was significant for several reasons. It was the first time that Eileen and I had been on holiday together and we had borrowed my father’s car so that we could take another young couple with us. My father had bought the car before he had passed the driving test so that I could give him lessons. (You may remember that I had learned to drive before we went on that holiday in Switzerland). Dad had not yet passed the test, so was happy to let me borrow it. But, as far as the baptism in the Spirit was concerned, two things were particularly relevant. First, on the two Sundays we were in Torquay we decided to attend Upton Vale Baptist Church which was not far from the Christian Endeavour Holiday Home where we were staying. I was very impressed with the minister’s sermon on Hebrews 11:6 and his emphasis on the fact that God rewards those who earnestly seek him. So I had a word with him after the service and told him I was seeking the baptism in the Spirit. Sadly, but not unsurprisingly for a Baptist minister back in 1959, he tried to discourage me from doing so, something which, when I started my course at Oxford a month or so later, influenced my decision to attend a Pentecostal church while I was there rather than a Baptist church. However, that sermon on Hebrews 11:6 on God rewarding those who earnestly seek him did reemphasise a word of prophecy we had received at Bethel a few weeks earlier encouraging us to get up early to pray. Now I am not saying that getting up early to pray is a condition of receiving the baptism, but it could be an indication that we were earnestly seeking, that we were really thirsty (John 7:7-39). So for the rest of that holiday we got up early and prayed. And when we went to the Tuesday prayer meeting after we got back from our holiday, it happened! This time there was another man sitting alongside the pastor on the platform. I had no idea who he was but as soon as the prayer time began he came down to pray for those who were seeking the baptism. Eileen and I were kneeling in the front row and he came to me first. I was kneeling with my head in my hands on the seat of the chair I had been sitting on. The man, who I later learned was a pastor called Harold Young, said, Kneel up, brother. So I moved into an upright kneeling position and he then said, Breathe it in, brother. I had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, and I thought it rather strange. But I was thirsty and unquestioningly did what he said. I took a breath. Then he said, Speak it out brother. Again, I did what he said and I found myself speaking fluently in tongues. And I did not stop until the pastor closed the meeting 45 minutes later! Then someone came up to me and said, You had a mighty baptism, didn’t you, brother? To which I replied, Oh, did I? To be honest, it was not at all what I had been expecting. Although I’m not really sure what I was expecting! By this time I had heard or read of so many different testimonies of people receiving the baptism and had realised that in some ways everyone is different, so I was not really sure what I should expect. What I wanted was to be filled with the Holy Spirit. I was not particularly interested in speaking in tongues. What's more, I found myself questioning whether the words I was speaking really were a language. I had studied four different foreign languages at school and it certainly sounded like none of them. So was my experience real? These questions were going through my mind as we were travelling home on our scooter. But then I remembered something that Jesus had said in Luke 11. Our heavenly Father does not give stones or scorpions or snakes to his children when they ask for the Holy Spirit. And on that basis I chose to believe that what I had experienced was real. I'm so glad that I did. Its reality has been confirmed again and again in my life and ministry. But more of that in later talks. But what about Eileen? She had had similar doubts when she heard what Harold Young had said to me and when he laid hands on her she did not receive. However, straight after the meeting he spoke to her and said, You do want to receive don't you? and Eileen said yes. So he took us both into the church vestry and placed his right hand on my head and told me to start speaking in tongues again. Then he placed his other hand on Eileen’s head and said, Now you begin to speak too. And she did! And later she told me that it had been in that very vestry that she had received Jesus as her saviour in Bethel Church Sunday school when she was only seven years old. So we were both baptised in the Spirit on the same day, September 8, 1959, just four weeks before I began my course at Brasenose College, Oxford, where I spent a lot of time telling other Christians about the baptism in the Holy Spirit. But we’ll be talking about that next time.
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295 My Story Talk 8 Between Brentwood and Brasenose (1956-59) Part 1
02/27/2025
295 My Story Talk 8 Between Brentwood and Brasenose (1956-59) Part 1
Talk 8 Between Brentwood and Brasenose (1956-59) Part 1 Welcome to Talk 8 in our series where I’m reflecting on the goodness of God throughout my life. I left school in December 1956 and started my course at Oxford in October 1959, a period of almost three years. In many ways it seemed a long time to wait, but in the plan and purpose of God they turned out to be highly significant years. I gained experience in teaching. I met Eileen, the girl who was to be lifelong partner. And I received the life-changing experience of the baptism in the Holy Spirit. But first, I need to explain how I got my place at Oxford and why I had to wait three years before taking it up. Gaining my place at Oxford In 1956, at the age of seventeen, I had already passed my A Levels and had decided to stay on at school a further year to take S Levels the following summer. S Levels – the S stands for Scholarship – were the highest level of GCE exams that you could take and were designed to support your application to university, especially if you were hoping to go to Oxbridge. However, as things turned out, I did not need to complete my S Level course because in the first term of that school year I was awarded a scholarship to read Philosophy, Politics and Economics at Brasenose College, Oxford. Our form master, Mr. Rennie, had suggested that some of us might like to spend a few days in Oxford and take some examinations at Brasenose College with a view to obtaining a place there. As there was only one place available I was not expecting to get it. But I decided to go even though my friend, John Bramble, was going too and I thought he was far more likely to be successful. He had always come higher than me in class and had gained better A Level results than I had. There were about eight of us altogether, each of us taking different exam papers, generally depending on what subjects we had taken at A level. There was just one paper that was the same for all of us, an English essay, the title of which was unknown to us until we sat down in the examination room. And that title was WORDS. The length of that exam was three hours and, although some boys started writing almost immediately, I spent the first 45 minutes planning my essay. I can't remember in great detail the contents of that essay but I know that I concluded it by talking about Christ, the word made flesh, the divine logos, the ultimate revelation of God Himself. I have sometimes wondered if the reason I was awarded the scholarship rather than any of my colleagues was that the Lord was honouring me because I had honoured him. Of course, I can’t be sure about that, but he had helped me through my A levels when I had honoured him before the whole class when my History master had told me that I was likely to fail, and I have always sought to give God the glory for any academic success I may have achieved. And I discovered later that, of all the papers I sat during that visit to Brasenose, that essay on WORDS was awarded the highest grade – an alpha. But when I received a letter from Brasenose offering me a scholarship a few weeks later, I was totally amazed and, after discussing it with my father, I came to the conclusion that this had to be God. But there was just one problem. The place they were offering me was for three years later in October 1959, after I had completed my two years National Service. However, the Government had already agreed to abolish National Service and were in the process of phasing it out gradually. They did this by delaying the ‘call-up’ which meant, in my case, that by the time they would have called me up, there would be less than two years before my course at Oxford was starting. In short, I would not have time to do National Service and, by the time I had finished my course at Oxford, National Service had been abolished completely. So, having obtained my place at Oxford, I decided to leave school at the end of term in December and start to earn some money. And at the time there was a great shortage of schoolteachers, as a result of which young people who had passed their A levels could do ‘uncertificated teaching’ before going to university, and so I ended up doing almost three years’ teaching before I went to Oxford. Gaining experience in teaching And, surprisingly enough, it started at the very school I had just left. Or, to be more precise, it was at the Preparatory School attached to Brentwood and standing just on the other side of the main playing field. One of the teachers was on sickness leave for a few weeks and I was asked if I would take their place as they taught French and Latin which were of course my two main A Level subjects. As it was a boarding school, I was required to live in and be the housemaster for some of the boys, which mainly involved making sure that they were in bed on time and not talking after a certain time. I was only there for a few weeks (January 15 to February 16), but I enjoyed the experience very much and learnt a great deal, not least of which was that, if you prepared your lessons thoroughly, you had relatively few problems with discipline. After Brentwood Prep I was told by the Essex Education Committee that another job was available in Brentwood, at the Church of England Primary School in Coptfold Road, only a few hundred yards from my old school. A teacher was on maternity leave and a replacement was needed until July to look after her class of 8 to 9 year-olds. The pay wasn’t great as I was not a qualified teacher. It worked out at about half what I would have been paid if I had been qualified. And, of course, this was not a residential post, so I needed to travel on two buses each day to get there from Hornchurch. But I accepted the job anyway. As in most primary schools, a teacher was responsible for teaching their class throughout the day all the subjects on the timetable. That was not a problem, but learning to keep discipline was another matter. My expectations were based on the level of discipline I had experienced as a pupil at Brentwood and the few weeks I had spent teaching at Brentwood Prep. Coptfold Road was quite another matter. Many of the children came from a less fortunate background and some of them were of rather limited intelligence. As a result, and due to my own lack of training and experience, and lack of any supervision, I found the two terms I was in charge of that class extremely difficult, and was quite relieved when I heard towards the end of the summer term that Mrs. Istead, the teacher who had been on maternity leave, was returning the following Monday. So on the Friday before she was due to return I was clearing my desk after school when the headmaster, Dr. Ward, asked me what I was doing, adding, You’re not leaving, are you? And he offered to give me a different class to teach and keep me on indefinitely until I went up to Oxford. So I decided to stay and, as things turned out, I was there until the end of September 1959, my ability to keep discipline improving greatly with experience and the help of a Day School Teachers’ Conference organised by the Baptist Union and held at St. Augustine’s College, Canterbury in August 1957. As I look back on those years of teaching before I went to Oxford, I think I can see why God allowed it to happen that way. While I was waiting I was rather frustrated, thinking, Why am I teaching when God has called me to the ministry? But little did I know then that his plan for me was that most of my ministry would be teaching. And although the major part of my teaching ministry has been to a different age group, even when teaching at degree level in Bible Colleges around the world, I have found that God has given me the ability to teach at a level that everyone can understand, something I repeatedly hear from grateful listeners. And perhaps at least part of that ability is a result of those years I spent teaching less able children while waiting to go to university. God knows what he is doing, and he always has a purpose in what appear to us to be pointless pauses in our lives. But that brings me to an even more significant purpose in those years of waiting, for it was in those years that I met Eileen, the girl I was to marry and who was to be the ideal person to support me in my ministry. Meeting Eileen It was an incredibly hot day that Saturday afternoon. So hot in fact that the railway line buckled in the heat of the sun. It was Saturday 29th June, 1957 and we had arranged a youth rally where the young people from Elm Park Baptist would meet up with Hornchurch Baptist young people for fun and games in the park followed by an open air service. Although the churches were only two miles apart, before then we had had little contact with them, so I actually knew none of the young people there. People have often asked me how I met Eileen and I have usually replied, In the park! After a game of rounders, we sat down in groups and had a picnic tea. I noticed a group of four rather attractive girls sitting a few yards away and thought I would like to take a closer look! So I got up and walked towards them and happened to notice that one of them had taken her shoes off. On impulse, I picked up one of the shoes and ran off with it, with nothing in particular in mind other than just having a bit of fun. Needless to say, the owner of the shoe ran after me but was at something of a disadvantage as she had bare feet. I soon disappeared from view and hid the shoe under the bridge that spanned the park lake. Of course, when she caught up with me, I felt a bit of an idiot and showed her where the shoe was. We got into conversation and I asked her if she would like to come to our Saturday evening youth club which took place after the open air service. She agreed and, after sharing a song sheet at the open air, I found out that her name was Eileen and that she was just six days older than me. After youth club I walked her home and kissed her goodnight. And that was the beginning of a relationship that lasted, with a short break, for 67 years and which ended only when the Lord called her home at the age of 85. We agreed to meet again some time the following week, but the next day, after attending church in the morning, I decided to go to Hornchurch Baptist for their evening service in the hope of seeing Eileen again. She and her friend were sitting in the choir and her friend noticed me in the congregation and said to Eileen, He's here! After the service we went for a long walk in the park and from then on were to see each other just about every day. I discovered that Eileen had attended Romford County High School and had left after taking her O levels. At the time she was working at Barts (St. Bartholemew’s Hospital) in London, but a year later she accepted a post in the Dagenham Education Office which was closer to home. But before that, I have to confess that there was a short break in our relationship during the last few months of 1957. I mentioned earlier that I attended a conference in Canterbury during the last week in August of that year. Everyone there was a qualified schoolteacher with the exception of me and one other person, a girl called Irene who was the same age as me and had been accepted to train as a teacher at the Chelsea College for Physical Education in Eastbourne. Irene was extremely attractive, highly intelligent, and very good at sport – she was nearly good enough to beat me at table tennis! But she was having doubts about her faith, and I spent some time with her trying to encourage her. As a result we were both very attracted to each other and, to cut the story short, because I have never been proud of myself about this, we started to see each other after the conference was over. When I next saw Eileen I told her, without mentioning Irene, that I felt we had been seeing too much of each other, that our relationship had been getting too intense – which it probably was – and that I thought we should cool it and not see each other for a while. She later told me that she had not been too concerned because she was convinced that if I was the right one for her, the Lord would bring me back to her. Which he did. The relationship with Irene lasted only a few weeks – until the middle of October, when I went to Eastbourne for a weekend to see her at her college. In short, she jilted me! But not long before Christmas the young people from Hornchurch Baptist came to Elm Park to take our Friday evening YPF meeting. And who should be singing in the choir but Eileen. I think we spoke briefly after the meeting, just polite conversation, but it was enough to arouse my interest in her again. So I sent her a Christmas card, and she replied by sending me one and enclosing this short poem: I do believe that God above created you for me to love. He picked you out from all the rest because he knew I'd love you best. I had a heart so warm and true, but now it's gone from me to you. Take care of it as I have done, for you have two and I have none. Not the best poetry in the world, but it touched my heart and I wrote to Eileen – I still have a copy of that letter – asking if she would like to resume our relationship. And from January 2nd 1958 hardly a day passed without our seeing each other.
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294 My Story Talk 7 Elm Park Baptist Church (1951-1958) Part 2
02/21/2025
294 My Story Talk 7 Elm Park Baptist Church (1951-1958) Part 2
Talk 7 Elm Park Baptist Church (1951-1958) Part 2 Welcome to Talk 7 in our series where I’m reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Today I’m going to tell you about my decision to follow Christ, my baptism and church membership, and my call to the ministry. My decision to follow Christ As I mentioned in an earlier talk, I cannot remember a time when I did not believe in Jesus, and, when at the age of eight I was asked by my father if I believed that Jesus had died for me, my immediate answer was yes. That was, after all, what I had been brought up to believe. But there is more to salvation than believing. Jesus began his ministry by preaching, The time has come…Repent and believe the gospel (Mark 1:15). The fact that Jesus loved us enough to die for our sins demands a response. If we truly believe it, we will repent, because we will hate the fact that our sins made it necessary for Jesus to suffer and die in our place. And true repentance will involve not just being sorry. It will entail a decision to turn from our sin, and to dedicate our whole life to him. I made that decision in April 1953 at the age of fourteen. Why it took so long I’m not quite sure. I remember that when I was about eleven my Sunday School Teacher asked us if we would like to ‘ask Jesus to come into our hearts’ and for some reason I didn’t respond. I think that part of the reason was embarrassment. I didn’t want my parents and some of my aunts making a fuss and saying how wonderful it was that David had ‘made a decision’. So what eventually prompted me to surrender to the claims of Christ and give my life to him? Of course the correct theological answer to that question is the convicting power of the Holy Spirit working through the preaching of the Word of God. And that must have been what was happening, although I didn’t realise it at the time. For several weeks in Bible Class my father had been preaching on John 3:16. Week by week I was constantly challenged by the thought that, if God loved me so much that he gave his only Son to die on the cross and save me from my sins, surely the very least I could do would be to give my life to him. So the major driving force behind my decision to do just that was undoubtedly the love of God. But that was not the only factor. There was also the fear of hell. And I think that may have been what finally clinched it. I was made very aware of the reality of hell through the preaching of Evangelist Tom Rees one Saturday night in the Central Hall, Westminster. Elm Park was only an hour’s journey from central London and a group of us had travelled in to hear him. Towards the close of his sermon, he stressed the dangers of rejecting Christ, and when he made the appeal I knew that I should stand up along with the many others who were responding to his message. But once again I resisted. My pride was holding me back. I didn’t want to make a public declaration that I was a sinner who needed to be saved. My baptism But the next day everything changed. There was to be a baptismal service in the evening and during the day my mother asked me if I had ever thought of being baptised, and I found myself saying yes. I understood very well that her question was not merely about being baptised. It carried with it part of the significance of baptism, the confession of Jesus Christ as my Saviour, my Lord, and my God. And so that evening when the minister made the appeal at the end of his sermon, while the congregation was singing the closing hymn, I walked forward with several other young people to indicate publicly my decision to give my life to Jesus and my desire to obey him by being baptised. The next baptismal service was arranged for July 19th, so there were several weeks to wait. But that gave us the opportunity to attend weekly baptismal classes at the ‘manse’, the name given to the house where the minister lived. Each week he taught us the basics about the Christian life, paying special attention to the subject of baptism, and explaining why infant baptism, which is practised in some churches, is not biblical. However, there was no teaching on the baptism in the Holy Spirit, which was something I did not hear about until I met some Pentecostal Christians a few years later. Nevertheless, I did find the minister’s teaching very helpful, and I think that’s why, when I became a pastor myself, I decided to provide similar classes for all those wanting to be baptised. In fact, the talks that I gave were later to form the basis of the contents of my little book, How to Live for Jesus. And of course they did include teaching on the baptism in the Spirit. When the day scheduled for the baptismal service finally arrived, the baptisms took place at the end of the Sunday evening service. The minister, who was dressed in black waterproof clothing, went down into the water first. Then, one at a time, the candidates went down to be baptised and each of us was asked by name, Do you acknowledge Jesus Christ as your Saviour, your Lord, and your God? To which we replied, I do. Then the minister would say, Then on the confession of your faith and repentance towards God, I baptise you in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. He then immediately baptised us, leaning us backwards into the water, dipping us right under (because that’s the meaning of the word baptise) and as we came up out of the water the whole church would sing, Follow, follow, I would follow Jesus, Anywhere, everywhere, I would follow on. Follow, follow, I would follow Jesus, Anywhere he leads me I will follow on. And that is something I can honestly say I have tried to do ever since. And now, 72 years later, I have no regrets. The pathway he has led, and is still leading me on, has been wonderful. It has not always been easy, but it’s been far better than going my own way. God’s way is always best. Church membership After baptism, the next step was to become a church member. Of course, from the perspective of the New Testament, we all become members of the church the moment we receive Christ as our Saviour. We become members of the universal church which is comprised of all Christians, those already in Heaven, the church triumphant, and those still on earth, the worldwide church, the church militant. Our membership of that church remains permanent as long as we remain Christians. But which local church we belong to may vary from time to time according to where we are living. And, of course, in any one area there may be several different local churches, which has sadly resulted in some Christians having no real commitment to any one local church and acknowledging no real accountability to any church leadership. This is why many local churches, while recognising that all Christians who worship with them are members of the body of Christ, the universal church, nevertheless insist that to be a member of their local church a person must identify with the doctrinal beliefs of that church, acknowledge their accountability to the leadership and their fellow church members, and show a genuine commitment to that church. And that was what was expected of me when, shortly after my baptism, I asked to become a member of Elm Park Baptist Church. The application process was simple. I had to ask someone who was already a member to be my sponsor. After a friendly interview he brought a report to the next Church Members’ Meeting and my name, together with the names of other young people who had been baptised at the same time as me, was put to the vote. As a result we were all accepted into membership. Church membership carried with it the privilege of being able to join in the discussions at church meetings and included the right to vote, even for those of the minimum age for membership, which was just fourteen. I always enjoyed those meetings, which were held every two months. Being able to participate in decision making meant that I felt a sense of responsibility and I was constantly aware of developments in the church programme. Now I realise that different churches operate in many different ways and that some leaders are hesitant to involve the members in this kind of way for fear of the kind of unpleasantness that I have heard has gone on in some church meetings. All I can say to that is that, in my experience, the advantages of involving the people in decision making on important matters far outweigh any disadvantages. What’s more, the dangers of abuse and corruption that so often have taken place when all the power is vested in a few, or even in just one person, must be avoided at all costs. I do believe that leadership should lead, and lead by example. But to be a leader is not the same as being a dictator. If you are really a leader, people will follow you. That’s why, as a church leader, I have never been afraid to ask the people to endorse any major decisions made by the leadership team. But that brings me to my call to ministry. My call to ministry As a teenager, of course, my understanding of church and church leadership was very much determined by my limited experience of Elm Park Baptist Church. Like most people then, and many people still today, I assumed that a local church must be led by a man called the minister or vicar. It was his responsibility to lead and preach at all the services and that, to do this, he needed to have received a special call from God. So when I refer to my call to the ministry I am using the expression in the way that I understood things back then. I have since come to see things very differently, and that will become evident in later talks. For now, it will be enough to say that I now understand that the word minister simply means servant and that, since all God's people are called to serve him, all God's people are in a sense ministers. But that is not to say that some people do not receive a special call to some particular area of service. In my particular case, I now realise that other people may have seen in me the potential to become a preacher long before I realised it myself. I was only fourteen when I was asked to give a short talk in the Sunday evening service at my church. It was what was called a Youth Sunday when the young people from my father's Bible class were asked to take responsibility for the service. Three of us were asked to speak for five minutes each and my father gave us help as to what we might say. That was my first experience of public speaking and, to my surprise, the following year I was invited to take on the preaching single handed. Then, another year later, I was asked to preach at the Sunday morning service. I am so grateful to the church leaders for spotting the potential that was in me and giving me the opportunity to develop it. Even then, however, although I enjoyed preaching, I did not feel any sense of call. That came when I attended a Baptist Church summer school held at Mamhead, not many miles from where I now live in beautiful Devon. Mamhead House, built in the nineteenth century regardless of cost and set in 164 acres of glorious parkland overlooking Lyme Bay and Exmouth has been described as ‘Devon’s grandest country mansion’. Summer School was a holiday for young Christians which included sessions of teaching until 11:00 AM and evening meetings for worship and further teaching after the evening meal. The rest of the day was taken up with leisure activities which included trips to the nearby seaside town of Dawlish, coach trips to Dartmoor, and rambles in the countryside surrounding Mamhead. I attended Summer School there for three years in succession from 1954 to 1956. But it was in 1955 that the Lord clearly spoke to me about my future. I had completed my O Levels in 1954 and was now halfway through my A Level course and beginning to think about my future. But I wasn’t particularly looking for guidance at that point as I was expecting to go to university after my A Levels and felt I had plenty of time to make up my mind. Then, one evening, after the preacher had finished speaking and we had sung the final song, the Revd. Cyril Rushbridge, who had been leading the meeting, said something like this: This isn’t part of what we had planned for this evening, but I just feel that the Lord wants me to tell you how I felt my call to the ministry. He went on to explain that he had had no dramatic experience like Saul on the road to Damascus but described in a simple way how he had ‘received his call’. Unfortunately, I can’t remember the details of what he said. All I can tell you is that when he had finished speaking I just knew that God wanted me to be a minister. And to clinch it, Kathleen O’Connor, a girl from our church came up to me as soon as the meeting had finished and said, David, do you now know what God wants you to do with your life? To which I replied, Yes, Kate, I’m going to be a minister. I later went and spoke with the Revd. Rex Mason, a graduate of Regent’s Park College, Oxford, who had been the preacher that evening and asked for his advice. He had read English (I think) at St Edmund Hall, Oxford, before going on the read Theology at Regent’s Park. He recommended that I do something similar, widening my outlook on life by taking a degree in something different before concentrating on Theology. The next thing to do was to let my parents know what had happened and, as I was away at Mamhead for at least another week, I sent them a postcard saying something like, I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve decided to be a minister! And when I got home they told me something they had never told me before. They had prayed for this from before I was born. I also told my minister, the Revd. Leslie H. Moxham, about my call to the ministry and asked if there was anything I could do immediately to start to prepare for what God was calling me to. And he suggested that I start attending the midweek Prayer and Bible Study meeting, something I had not done because of all my other commitments to church activities. So I did what he suggested and was not disappointed. He was a great Bible teacher and I learnt a lot in those meetings, even though, as I have already mentioned, the number of meetings got me into trouble with my History teacher at school. So looking back, I am very grateful to God for my years at Elm Park Baptist and, although I was to move on when I was baptised in the Spirit in 1959, my remaining years there were to prove some of the most exciting and significant years of my life. But that’s the subject of the next talk. Incidentally, in the years that followed we also went several times to hear Billy Graham during his visits to Haringey, Earls Court, and Wembley Stadium. Please see Chapter Thirteen of You’d Better Believe It where I show the biblical reasons for saying this.
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293 My Story Talk 6 Elm Park Baptist Church 1951-58 Part 1
02/14/2025
293 My Story Talk 6 Elm Park Baptist Church 1951-58 Part 1
Talk 6. Elm Park Baptist Church (1951-1958) Part One Welcome to Talk 6 in our series where I’m reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. In the last two episodes I have been talking about my experiences at Brentwood School. Today we’re turning to my time at Elm Park Baptist Church. One great advantage of being a day boy rather than a boarder at Brentwood School was that I was free on Sundays to attend church. It also meant that I came into regular contact with girls, something which was seriously lacking for boys who were boarders. This, I think, was quite important for me because, as an only child, I had no sisters, but at least through the activities of the local church I was able to form healthy relationships with the opposite sex. In fact I suspect that as a teenager the girls were one of the attractions of going to church! And at Elm Park Baptist there were plenty of activities to choose from. So let’s begin by talking about the church programme. Church programme Unlike many churches today where there is only one meeting on a Sunday and another, perhaps, during the week, at our church something was happening every single day of the week. Of course, Sunday was the busiest day. From 10-11am the Boys’ Brigade held their Bible Class. From 11-12 there was the Morning Service. In the afternoon there was Sunday School from 2.30-3.30 and again from 3.30-4.30, the numbers attending being so great that two separate sessions were necessary. For teenagers there was Bible Class (taught by my father) followed by a discussion group for young people held between 4 and 5pm. Very often we stayed at church for tea in order to be there for the 6.30 Evening Service which was then followed by a ‘sing-song’ at about 8pm. In fact, apart from going home at lunch time for the traditional Sunday roast prepared by my mother, as a teenager I was at church from 10am to 9pm every Sunday. During the week, meetings for young people included the Boys’ Brigade, the Girls’ Life Brigade, the Young People’s Fellowship (YPF), and the Youth Club. For adults there was a midweek meeting for Prayer and Bible Study conducted by the Minister, and there were separate men’s meetings and women’s meetings too. All these activities took place on church premises. There were never any home groups in those days. That was something that became popular in the 1970s. My personal involvement I was personally involved in most of the activities I’ve just mentioned. This was not the result of any parental coercion. I just wanted to be there and, as I have already mentioned, on Sundays I was at church for almost the whole day. This was from the age of 14 until I was about 17. It was largely through my father’s teaching in Bible Class on Sunday afternoons that I decided to give my life to Jesus – but more of that later. Dad was a gifted preacher and teacher, and the majority of the thirty or more young people attending Bible Class made decisions for Christ as a result of his ministry. Whenever there was a baptismal service on a Sunday evening, Mum and Dad would invite three or four young people to come for tea after Bible Class and then go on to the service after tea. Over the years, many of those young people responded to the appeal at the end of the service and walked forward to indicate that they were giving their lives to Jesus and would like to be baptised. One of those young people was my friend, Don Campbell, who emigrated to Australia and, when I last heard from him two or three years ago, he was still attending a Baptist church over there. Apart from the Bible Class I attended on Sunday afternoons, I also went to the Boys’ Brigade Bible Class every Sunday morning. The Boys’ Brigade was found by Sir William Smith in 1886. If I remember it correctly, its purpose was: The advancement of Christ’s kingdom among boys, and the promotion of habits of obedience, reverence, discipline, self-respect, and all that tends towards a true Christian manliness. As well as the Sunday morning Bible Class, our company, which was known as the Second Hornchurch Company of the Boys’ Brigade, held two other meetings each week. Tuesday evenings were dedicated to drill practice, where, after we had been inspected to ensure that we were smartly dressed and our uniforms were being worn correctly, we learned how to stand to attention correctly, to salute the Lieutenants and Captain, and to do basic marching manoeuvres both individually and as company. When I was seventeen and had been promoted to the rank of sergeant I was awarded the N.C.O’s Proficiency Star after demonstrating that I could give the correct commands for the Company to make these manoeuvres on drill parade. Of course all this was exactly the same kind of thing the other boys at my school were doing in the CCF and I realise that some might see my being in the Boys’ Brigade as quite inconsistent with my refusal to join the CCF on the grounds that I was a conscientious objector. However, unlike the boys in the CCF, in the BB we were not taught to use military weapons. On Fridays, time was given for more recreational activities, and opportunity was given to learn to play the bugle or a drum. After a couple of attempts at making the right sound come out of a bugle – it’s by no means as simple as just blowing – I decided it wasn’t for me. This was partly because at the time I found it difficult to sing in tune and I reasoned that if I couldn’t sing properly I probably wouldn’t be able to keep in tune on the bugle either! And sadly all the drums were already allocated to other boys. But perhaps the best thing about the BB was its annual camp. This took place every year during the school summer holidays. Wherever it was held, it was always within walking distance of the sea. My first camp was a great adventure for me as, at the age of twelve, I had never been away from home without my parents. It was held in Mudeford on the south coast of England, and I loved it. I went to BB camp on six occasions, Mudeford (1951), Highcliffe in Dorset (1952), Walmer in Kent (1953, ’54, and ’55), and Corton in Suffolk (1956). It was fun sleeping in a field with six other boys in a tent, each with a straw-filled sack called a paillasse (pronounced pally ass!) as a mattress, your kit bag as a pillow, and only a couple of rough, rather itchy, blankets to keep you warm. If sleeping-bags were invented back then, we’d certainly never heard of them! I say it was fun, and it was, just rather uncomfortable fun. And, of course, the first night we hardly slept. And when we did finally get to sleep it wasn’t long before we awakened by the musical notes of the bugle playing Reveille. Time to get up, get washed and dressed and go to the toilet. The toilets or ‘latrines’ were just holes in the ground dug the day before by the ‘advance party’ who had travelled down earlier to prepare the camp site, and the washing facilities were just metal bowls of cold water on trestle tables. Every day was punctuated with a variety of bugle calls summoning us to ‘fall in’ (form a line outside our tents), or telling us that the next meal was ready, and so on, until the final call of the day, which was ‘lights out.’ Apart from mealtimes, activities included getting your tent ready for ‘tent inspection’ each morning, doing chores like peeling potatoes (otherwise known as ‘spud-bashing’), going down to the beach for a supervised swim, leisure activities such as football and cricket, and a certain amount of free time. There were also various devotional activities, like a service in the marquee on Sunday mornings and, if I remember correctly, a Bible reading and short word from the camp padre after breakfast on other days. But for most boys, the majority of whom did not come from Christian homes, the ‘religious’ bits were something you endured rather than enjoyed in order to be allowed to join in the fun that the other aspects of BB had to offer. In fact, as far as I know, sadly, very few of the fifty boys in the company ever made a decision for Christ. The benefits for me, however, were inestimable. BB instilled in me the need for personal discipline and loyalty. It gave me the opportunity to mix with boys who were from a very different social background from most of my friends at Brentwood School. It gave me experience in leadership, and it taught me a great deal about how to organise a camp – something that was to prove very valuable when later, in pastoral ministry, I was able year after year to run a Youth Camp for up to 150 teenagers where we saw dozens of young people saved and filled with the Holy Spirit. But that’s a story for a later talk. Apart from the uniformed organisations like the BB and the GLB (Girls’ Life Brigade, a title later to be abbreviated to Girls’ Brigade), there were three other weekly opportunities for young people to meet together. I have already mentioned the teenage Bible Class led by my father on Sunday afternoons, but I also attended the YPF (Young People’s Fellowship) on Friday evenings and Youth Club on Saturday evenings. YPF was an opportunity for young Christians to meet together to worship the Lord, pray, share testimonies, and learn from the Word. There was also plenty of time for discussion, which was something I particularly enjoyed. It took place in what was called the parlour, which even then was a rather old-fashioned term for a lounge. This was at the back of the church building, right next to the kitchen, so conveniently situated for making hot drinks at the end of the meeting. The Youth Club was primarily intended to be an opportunity for evangelism. Held in the Youth Hall, part of the church’s property but separate from the main building, it provided facilities for table-tennis, snooker, darts etc. and was followed by a fifteen-minute epilogue which included a hymn, a prayer and a short message. Looking back on it, I think that, although it was valuable as a means of keeping young people off the streets, Youth Club was not an effective tool of evangelism. Most of the forty or so young people who came to it never came to any of the other church activities and I cannot remember any who became Christians as a result of it. But that is not to say that such activities can never be effective. Perhaps if it had been led by someone with a clear evangelistic gift the results might have been very different. I was later to learn that for effective evangelism there is no substitute for the power of the Holy Spirit. That is what will attract people to Jesus, and that is what will keep them going on with God. But that’s a subject for later. Next time I’ll be sharing how at Elm Park Baptist I first dedicated my life to Christ, was baptised, became a church member, started to preach, and felt God calling me to become a minister of the Gospel.
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292 My Story Talk 5 Brentwood School 1950-56 Part 2
02/07/2025
292 My Story Talk 5 Brentwood School 1950-56 Part 2
My Story Talk 5 Brentwood School (1950-1956) Part Two Welcome to Talk 5 in our series where I’m reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Today we’re talking about the academic programme at Brentwood, the chaplain, the chapel and Divinity lessons, and the school CCF. Academic Programme A typical day at Brentwood began with chapel or assembly at 8.50am. This lasted about half an hour. Lessons, which were all 45 minutes long, began at 9.30. The first two periods were followed by a 15 minute break at 11am and the next two periods were followed by lunch at 1pm. With the exception of Wednesdays and Saturdays which were dedicated to sporting activities, there were three periods each afternoon, beginning at 1.45 and ending at 4pm. And then of course there was homework, which at Brentwood was called prep. In the first year this was expected to take us an hour and a half each evening, increasing to three hours when you were in the sixth form taking A levels. This often involved memorizing things on which you were going to be tested the next day. And there were huge incentives for doing your prep thoroughly. Apart from the fact that you might be put in detention on Wednesday afternoon if you failed the test, a form order was produced every two or three weeks and sent home to your parents to let them know your current position in class. This certainly kept us on our toes, and, although at Brentwood I never came top as I had regularly done at primary school, I made sure I was always in the top 10. Subjects in our first year, all of which were compulsory, included English, French, Latin, Maths, History, Geography, Physics, Art or Woodwork, Divinity (Religious Education), and Gym. But after the first year, which at Brentwood was referred to as the second form, the system changed and the subjects you took depended on which stream you had chosen to enter. The Third Form (i.e. the second year) was divided into four streams, Classical Three, Science Three, Modern Three, and General Three. The advantage of this system was that boys could concentrate early on the areas where they hoped to specialise later. The disadvantage was, of course, that not everyone was at all sure at such a young age of what those future areas might be. It also meant that relatively little teaching was given on some quite important subjects. For example, you did relatively little science if you went into the classical stream. However, in my case, I think the system proved beneficial. I opted for the classical stream because I was interested in languages and had shown that I had a measure of ability in that area. In doing so I was able to begin studying Greek at the age of 12 which was to prove important in what the Lord had for me in the future. At the age of 15, when we were in the fifth form, we all took O-level exams (General Certificate of Education, Ordinary Level), after which another choice had to be made. Which sixth form stream to enter? Although successful in all my exams, my best results were in languages, and of all the streams available the choice for me was narrowed down to Lower Sixth Classics where I could take Latin, Greek, and Classical History, or Lower Six Arts where the options were Latin or English Literature, French, and German or Mediaeval History. Not knowing then the future God had planned for me, I opted for the Arts stream and chose Latin, French, and Mediaeval History for my A-level subjects and Spanish as a subsidiary subject for O-level. I thank God that, with his help, I passed all these exams. I was particularly grateful about History. A few months before we were due to sit the exams, my history teacher, Mr. Moulde, said to me, Quite honestly, Petts, I think you’re going to fail History. The basic reason for this was that I wasn’t doing enough prep because of all the church activities I was engaged in because, among other things, halfway through my A-level course I had felt God calling me to the ministry. But more about that in the next talk. So, in front of the whole class, I replied, The problem is, Sir, that I believe that God has called me to be a minister, and that to gain as much experience as I can, I need to be involved as much as possible in my local church. I believe that if I honour God, and if he wants me to pass History, then he will help me to do so. To which he replied, Well, Petts, I respect your faith, but I can’t say that I agree with you. Unless you put in a lot more work, you will certainly fail. I did try to put in more work on History without giving up any of my church activities. When the results came through I was delighted to discover that I had scored 60% (the pass mark being 40). And at the beginning of the next term, as I happened to meet Mr. Moulde in the quad, he said to me with a broad smile, Well, Petts, what do you mean by getting 60? I would never have believed it. Congratulations. Later that term I won a scholarship at Brasenose College, Oxford to read Philosophy, Politics and Economics. But more of that in a later talk. I need now to say more about my Christian faith while I was at Brentwood. This, of course, needs to be understood alongside my experience at Elm Park Baptist Church which will be the subject of our next talk. At school I was to get a taste of a different kind of Christianity, some of which wasn’t Christianity at all as I understood it. But this will become clear in a moment. The Chaplain, the Chapel, and Divinity lessons The religious climate in the UK in the 1950s was very different from today. Although church attendance had dropped, probably caused by disillusionment because of the war, there was still a general acceptance of the basic truths of Christianity. This, coupled with the fact that religious teaching at Brentwood was, in the words of the school prospectus, in accordance with that of the Church of England, meant that with the exception of Divinity (RE) lessons, apart from one experience I will mention later, there was rarely anything much that would challenge my Christian faith. Surprisingly the source of that challenge was the Chaplain, the Chapel, and what was taught in Divinity lessons. The Chaplain, the Reverend R. R. Lewis, M.A. was a graduate of Jesus College, Oxford, and an ordained Church of England priest. As such, he was responsible for most of what went on in chapel and taught all the weekly Divinity lessons. From this it was clear, because he openly acknowledged it, that he did not believe in the deity of Christ, the virgin birth, or the resurrection. In fact he denied the possibility of miracles on the grounds that, if God created the laws of the universe, he would not break his own rules! Of course, when I told my father about this, he reminded me of the outstanding miracle experienced by Auntie May which I mentioned at the beginning of this series. On another occasion we were told that God could not foretell the future because, if he could, that would mean that we could not be held responsible for our actions. I know some Christians do struggle with this, but, as I have pointed out elsewhere, if I know that something will happen it does not mean that I am causing it to happen. Having said all that, Mr. Lewis was a nice enough man. I just could not, and still cannot, understand how the Church of England can allow people with such views to hold office in the church. Anglicans often talk about what they consider to be the advantages of the C. of E. being what they call a broad church, but in my view what they claim to be its greatest strength is actually its greatest weakness. Of course, back then I knew nothing of the evangelical wing of the Church of England and tended to assume that Anglicans all held views like those of our school chaplain. It was later at Oxford that I first met godly people who were part of the C. of E. and whose views, apart from the fact that they believed in infant baptism, were much closer to mine. And I praise God for the great things that are happening today in those parts of the church where the Bible is honoured and charismatic gifts are encouraged. But from my, admittedly limited, experience of Anglican worship, it was very different from that in the 1950s. Worship in chapel was very different from what I experienced in our Baptist Church each Sunday. Some differences were relatively unimportant. For example, in chapel we sang Psalms instead of reading them, and we knelt for prayer rather than sitting. But others were more serious. Prayers were never spontaneous, but read from a book, and they were the same prayers week after week! And preachers would be dressed in robes and precede their sermons with, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost, Amen, something which at times verged on the blasphemous bearing in mind the content of what sometimes followed in the sermon. But none of this seriously challenged my faith, unlike an experience I had in class, once again with our French teacher, M. Jacquotet. I don’t remember what I had said, but I do remember his response: Monsieur Petts, you are a silly little fool if you think that, if there is a God, he can possibly be interested in you! At the time, I had no answer. There is an apparent logic to arguments like these, but I knew that there must be an answer. So that evening I told my father what my teacher had said, to which he replied, But that is exactly what we Christians dare to believe. God isn’t limited like us. He’s so big that he has the capacity to care about every single person and every single thing in the universe. Your teacher clearly doesn’t understand this. And I remembered something that we had been told to memorise in our English Literature lessons. It was taken from Matthew 6:26. Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? So my father’s advice and the shield of faith, which is the word of God, extinguished yet another of those flaming arrows sent by the evil one (Ephesians 6:16). But my father’s Christian influence on my thinking was also very evident in a decision I made with regard to the school Combined Cadet Force. The CCF and pacifism As I mentioned in Talk One, my father was a conscientious objector during the war. As a Christian he took seriously all the teaching of Jesus, and that included the command to Love your enemies (Matthew 5:44) and he could not see how he could obey this command by killing them. He had to go before a tribunal and answer searching questions to test if his objections were genuine and, as a result, was exempted from military service and allowed to continue his profession as a schoolteacher. Now at Brentwood it was compulsory for boys in the fourth form and above to be part of the school’s Combined Cadet Force (CCF), generally referred to in school as ‘the corps’. This meant that every Thursday boys would dress in Army or Air Force uniform throughout the day and during the last period of the afternoon receive military training on the school playing fields. There was, however, a provision for a boy to register as a Conscientious Objector if he could satisfy the Headmaster that his objections were sincere. And so, following my father’s example, at the age of 14, I was interviewed and asked to explain my objections, as a result of which I was allowed to do First Aid training with the Red Cross as part of the non-uniformed branch of the corps. Now I realise that most Christians do not take the same pacifist stance. This is one of those issues where Christians are disagreed, and each person must follow their own conscience in the matter. But for me at the time, arguing for pacificism was in many ways the most vital way I had of expressing my Christian faith. Memories of World War II were still very real and our armed forces were already engaged in conflict in the Korean War from 1950 to 1953. Fear of a third world war was very real, and at the time all boys of eighteen were compelled to do National Service involving two years’ military training in one of the armed forces. So the issue of whether it is right to take up arms against one’s fellow human beings was particularly relevant throughout my school years, and there were frequent discussions about it both at school and at church. Whether I was right or wrong to adopt a pacifist position is for others to decide, but what it did for me and the development of my character was undeniable. I was forced to stand up for what I believed in, despite the teasing and accusations of cowardice that inevitably come to people who refuse to fight. The ability to think independently rather than following the majority view, and the resolve to take seriously the teaching of Jesus and to follow it, were to become the determining factors of my life. So I thank God for my years at Brentwood. They not only provided the foundation for future academic achievements but gave me opportunity to learn how to think for myself and to stand up for what I believe to be right. And, best of all, they were years when I determined to follow Jesus. My faith was both challenged and encouraged, but Brentwood was, of course, by no means the only factor, because throughout my years there I was also a regular attender at Elm Park Baptist Church, which is the subject of the next talk.
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291 My Story Talk 4 Brentwood School (1950-56) Part One
01/31/2025
291 My Story Talk 4 Brentwood School (1950-56) Part One
Talk 4 Brentwood School (1950-56) Part One As I mentioned in the last talk, life for children and young people from Christian families tends to be pretty much dominated by what goes on at school and at church. It was certainly true for me during my years at primary school and continued to be so when I moved on to Brentwood School. Even my recreational activities, in term time at least, took place either at school or in connection with church. So in this talk and the next I’ll be concentrating on my experience at Brentwood School, and I think it will be helpful if I start by talking about: The educational system in England Just like today, children left primary school in the July of the school year in which they became eleven. But the school they moved up to depended on their academic ability, which was assessed by their performance in an examination known as ‘the scholarship’ or ‘the eleven plus’, a system which still exists in some areas today. Only those who were successful in these exams were accepted into what were usually referred to as ‘High Schools’ or ‘Grammar Schools’. (There were no ‘Comprehensive’ schools as we know them today). Children who did not pass the eleven plus would normally go to a ‘Secondary Modern’ school where there would be little or no opportunity later to progress to academic qualifications like GCEs and A levels. Brentwood, however, came into a different category. It was founded in 1558 as what paradoxically came to be called a public school. Many of the older schools in England come into this category. Well known examples are Eton and Harrow. They were originally called public schools because pupils could attend them regardless of their location, denomination, or family background. However, the term is misleading because, being independent of the state system, they're not actually open to all the public because they charge fees which very few can afford. So how did I come to go to Brentwood? Gaining admission to Brentwood It all started with a recommendation from my headmaster at primary school. I remember feeling a bit nervous as I took the eleven plus exams at primary school. I was under pressure because I was aware that so much depended on it, and because everyone was expecting me to pass because each year I had come top of the class. What I didn’t know was that the headmaster, Mr. Occomore, had had his eye on me for some time, and was about to make a recommendation that I think surprised even my parents. Once I had passed the eleven plus, he contacted my father and suggested that, instead of applying to any of the local high schools or grammar schools, I might try to see if I could get into Brentwood School which, he felt, would offer me an even better standard of education. To gain admission I would have to go to Brentwood and sit another exam with a view to winning a Foundation Scholarship. Unfortunately there were only six such scholarships available each year. But, after talking it through with me, my parents encouraged me to try. They were no doubt praying that if Brentwood was the best place for me, God would open the door. And he did. In the week following the exam, Mr Allison, the headmaster at Brentwood, phoned my father and told him that they were prepared to offer me a place, even though I had not come in the first six. I had come seventh! And because Brentwood had accepted me, the Essex Education Committee would cover the cost of the fees. This was because Brentwood was on the Direct Grant List of the Ministry of Education. Without that, my father would never have been able to afford to pay for me to go to Brentwood where I soon found myself mixing with boys some of whose parents were far wealthier than mine. I am so grateful to God that I grew up at a time when education was available to all, regardless of their family’s income. First impressions Life at Brentwood was very different from life at primary school. For one thing, it took much longer to get there. My primary school was only a 10-minute walk away from my home, whereas to get to Brentwood I had to walk to Hornchurch station, catch the number 66 bus into the centre of Hornchurch and then wait for the school bus to arrive. There were only two or three boys who got on at Hornchurch, but the bus picked up about 40 more as it passed through Upminster on the way to Brentwood. The journey took another half an hour to get us to school. Unlike primary school, all the boys were in uniform. We wore a maroon-coloured cap and a grey suit accompanied by grey socks, black shoes, and a black tie. The rules on uniform were very strict and rather detailed. For example, in the first year it was compulsory to wear short trousers – something which was not uncommon in those days – whereas in the second year it was permissible to wear long trousers and a white shirt. I suppose, like most kids of today, we really couldn't see the point of these apparently trivial regulations. On arriving at school, we all went straight into Chapel or assembly in the Memorial Hall, depending on which day of the week it was, but more of that next time. Once in class, I was initially surprised by two things. First, the classes were considerably smaller than they had been at primary school where the average class at that time numbered between 40 and 50 pupils. At Brentwood there were only 30. Another surprise was that all the teachers wore gowns. This was a tradition that reflected the fact that they were all university graduates, the majority with MA degrees from Oxford or Cambridge. At 10.45 each morning there was a 15-minute break when we were able to go to the tuck shop, where we could buy a sticky bun for a penny and drink the third of a pint of milk provided free to all children by the government. This break was a welcome relief from the strict discipline in the classroom where the teacher could administer corporal punishment for something as trivial as not being in your seat before the teacher arrived. But that brings us on to the subject of discipline. Discipline I have already mentioned the strict rules about uniform, but there were other minor regulations such as not putting your hands in your pockets, not combing your hair or eating in public. I well remember the occasion during my first week at Brentwood when I was eating an apple on the pavement outside school while I was waiting for the bus. Suddenly, who should appear but the headmaster himself who approached me and said, Are you a new boy? And then he added, Perhaps you don't know that at Brentwood we don't eat in the street. Are you very hungry? To which I replied, Yes, Sir. Well perhaps you could put it away now and save it until you get home. Needless to say, I was very relieved that he had dealt with me so kindly, but I must confess that once I had got upstairs on the bus where the headmaster could not see me, I took the apple out of the bag and ate it. Of course, it was unusual for the head to be dealing with such a trivial thing. Such matters were usually dealt with by praepostors, a word which comes from the Latin meaning placed ahead and which is roughly equivalent to what in most schools was called a prefect. These were boys chosen from the sixth form and were easily distinguished by the fact that they wore a special tie instead of the regulation black one. They had authority to remind boys of the school rules and to impose discipline, like setting essays for offenders to write, or giving them 100 lines, which meant writing out the same sentence 100 times. In class, of course, discipline was maintained by the teachers. Most of them achieved this by keeping their lessons interesting, and, as someone pointed out to me when I started teaching, interest is the best form of discipline. Occasionally, however, this was backed up by putting offenders in detention, which meant doing classwork for two hours all Wednesday afternoon instead of playing cricket or football. This happened to me once, not for breaking any rules, but for not adequately memorising what the teacher had told us to learn for our homework, or ‘prep’ as it was called at Brentwood. Another time I avoided detention by agreeing to be caned instead. It happened like this. It was during the French lesson, and I was sitting at the back of the class. I had in my head the tune of a chorus we had been singing at church and, rather stupidly, I started to whistle it very quietly. Of course, the teacher heard it and asked who was whistling. Monsieur Jacquotet was an elderly Frenchman who was bald on top but had white woolly hair at the back and sides. But what made his appearance rather unusual was the fact that he wore pince-nez glasses, something we boys found highly amusing. When he asked who was whistling I immediately put up my hand to confess, which, I think, anyone else in our school would have done. To which Jacko (as we somewhat disrespectfully called him) imposed my sentence: Eh bien, Monsieur Petts, you will go in detention. However, there was one problem. I was opening bat for the house cricket team and there was a match on the next day. So the team captain went to our housemaster, Lt. Col, D.J Jones, and asked him if he could get me off detention. As a result of which, M. Jacquotet agreed, provided that Col. Jones gave me the cane instead. So that afternoon, with a rather sore backside, feeling something of a hero, I went out to bat for the house team. Sadly, I was out first ball, and my heroic suffering proved in vain! Sport One of the things that first excited me about Brentwood was the wonderful facilities on campus – though ‘campus’ was not a term that was used in England in those days. The school boasted the largest school playing fields in England, some 60 acres, enough space for the entire school to be out playing football or cricket at the same time. There were also tennis courts, squash courts, a fives court, two well equipped gyms and an open-air swimming pool where, in the Summer Term, we were all taught to swim. Initially there had been one thing that had disappointed me about Brentwood. We had to go to school on Saturdays! This may have been because about 180 of the boys were boarders and the headmaster once remarked that he viewed ‘dayboys’ as ‘boarders who go home to sleep’! Something which is clearly a contradiction in terms, and I confess, we dayboys refused to take it seriously when we were told that we should wear school uniform on Sundays! However, I soon got over my disappointment about going to school on Saturdays, as the whole afternoon on Wednesdays and Saturdays was dedicated to sporting activities, which I loved, and anyway our school holidays were longer than those in other schools – eight weeks in the summer, for example, instead of the usual six. I enjoyed playing football and cricket and, later, rugby. I remember playing left wing for my house team and, on one occasion, scoring 7 goals while my friend John Bramble on the right wing scored another 7. This absurd result was probably because the opposing team was from one of the boarding houses which had fewer boys to choose from than the dayboy houses. This may also account for the fact that in one cricket match I took 4 wickets for the loss of only 1 run! I also played full back in our house rugby team which won the cup for three years in succession, probably because Col. Jones our housemaster was a former Welsh international and an excellent coach. And finally, in the sixth form, I played centre half at football in the school second eleven and was hoping to be promoted to the first eleven until I badly sprained my ankle running down the stairs of the school library two at a time and was out of action until I left school at the end of that term. Next time I’ll tell you something about the academic programme at Brentwood before sharing how my Christian faith was both tested and encouraged during my time there.
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290 My Story Talk 3 Home, Family, Christmas & Holidays (1947-1953)
01/24/2025
290 My Story Talk 3 Home, Family, Christmas & Holidays (1947-1953)
My Story Talk 3 Home, Family, Christmas & Holidays (1947-1953) Welcome to Talk 3 in our series where I’m reflecting on the goodness of God throughout my life. From what I've said so far it’s clear that after the war my life in the 1940s was largely comprised of school and church. I suppose that was true of most Christian children in those days and continues to be so today. And what was true of my years at primary school and Sunday school was also true of the years that followed. Most of my activity was to be centred on school and church. But before I move on to those things in the next talk, I need to say more about my family, because without a doubt our family is by far the strongest influence in the formation of our character, our behaviour, and our outlook on life. And life is not just about our education or work or church. It’s about relationships, people, recreation, having fun, and healthy enjoyment of the things God has so graciously lavished upon us. So this talk is about my home, my family, Christmas and holidays. Home For the first 23 years of my life I lived with my parents in the home in Hornchurch where I was born. It was a fairly standard three bedroomed semidetached house, but it benefited from a rather large garden which backed onto the railway. We weren’t disturbed by the noise of the trains because the garden was some 200 feet – about 60 metres – long, but by walking to the end of the garden and looking down the railway embankment we could watch electric trains on the District Line and the steam locomotives on the London, Midland and Scottish Railway. My parents were both keen gardeners and had chosen the house because of the size of the garden. They planted several apple trees, two pear trees, two plum trees, a greengage tree, as well as strawberries, raspberries, gooseberries, blackcurrants and redcurrants. My grandfather had also planted for me an ash tree at the very end of the garden and, by looking at Google Earth, it looks as though it’s still there today. Sadly, the large fishpond which I helped my father build when I was about ten seems to have gone. Family and Friends One of the advantages of having a large garden was that there was a big enough lawn for my father to teach me to play cricket and football. So, although I was an only child, I was never a lonely child. There were always plenty of friends who liked to come and play. I also enjoyed playing board games with my grandad, my mother’s father, who lived with us for about five years, and later with my grandmother, my father’s mother, who came later to live with us for six years and who died at the age of 86 when I was 16. Having elderly parents living with us for eleven years was not easy for my mother, but she seldom if ever complained, and her example taught me the real meaning of love, a commitment to serving others despite the cost to ourselves. I also got some idea of what it’s like to be in your eighties! Family at Christmas I saw relatively little of other family members as my uncles, aunts and ten cousins all lived too far away for frequent visits. But we did see most of them at Christmas and sometimes during the other school holidays. Because, with one exception, all my cousins were older than I was, Christmas was usually spent with my Auntie Addie – Adelaide actually, but I never heard anyone actually call her that! She was a year or two younger than my mother and had two sons, Brian who was a year older than me, and Geoffrey who was born shortly after the war when Uncle Bert returned from years away fighting in Burma (now known as Myanmar). We usually alternated where we would spend Christmas, either at our house in Hornchurch or at their prefab in Woodford Green near Walthamstow. Prefabs were prefabricated bungalows introduced after the war to provide housing that could be erected more quickly than by using the usual methods of construction. Originally they were intended to last for, I think, only ten years, but in practice most of them lasted for decades. One of the exciting things about them was that they were all provided with a fridge with a small freezer compartment, so we could have ice-cream whenever we liked. Fridges were a luxury in those days and it was many years later that we ourselves had one. Eileen and I had our first fridge in 1968, six years after we were married. Brian and I had to share a bed every Christmas and I have vivid memories of waking up in the early hours of the morning to see what Santa had left in our ‘stockings’ – which were actually pillowcases, as stockings weren’t large enough to accommodate the vast number of presents we each received. I don’t remember how old I was when I realised that Santa wasn’t real, but it must have been well before I left primary school. I do know that some Christians, quite understandably, believe it’s wrong to tell their children something which isn’t true, fearing especially that, when they finally understand that the whole Santa thing is a myth, they will conclude the Christmas story found in the Bible is a legend too. That’s a view that I understand and fully respect, but I can only say that it was never a problem for me, or, as far as I know, for my children and grandchildren for that matter. If we teach our children that what is in the Bible is true, they will soon discover that Father Christmas is nowhere to be found in the Bible, but is just a nice story that, although it isn’t true, gave them a lot of fun when they were too young to understand otherwise. But each of us must follow our own conscience in this matter, as we always must when confronted with issues over which Christians disagree. Christmas dinner, as I remember it, was very similar to what most people have today, with one notable exception. I can’t remember when we first had turkey, but for several years our celebratory meal was roast chicken. Unlike today, chicken was then very expensive, and Christmas was the only time we had it. At other times our regular Sunday roast was lamb, which, also unlike today, was the cheapest meat you could get. Our typical weekly menu was roast lamb on Sundays, cold lamb on Mondays, minced lamb in the form of shepherd’s pie on Tuesdays, and lamb stew with dumplings on Wednesdays. So chicken at Christmas was a real treat! Apart from eating, we spent most of Christmas Day and Boxing Day playing with the games we had received as presents. These were always very competitive and included subuteo football, a form of cricket you could also play on the table, table tennis, darts, and a bagatelle pin board. We also enjoyed heading a balloon to one another and counting how many times we could keep it up. When we later tried it outside with a football we found it was much harder! Another good thing about staying at Auntie Addie’s house was that we were able to visit other family members, as three of my aunts lived quite near to her. There was always quite a crowd in the evenings when we all joined together for a party, when we played traditional party games like musical chairs and pass the parcel. Years later I was to discover that some people's idea of a party was a time when you did little more than sit around and drink too much. This shocked me because our parties had never been like that. My parents were both teetotallers and, although most of the rest of the family were not, they respected their wishes and rarely drank in the presence of children and teenagers. Of course, the consumption of alcohol is another of those matters where Christians disagree, but hopefully all would at least agree that abstinence is the best policy in the presence of those who might become addicted. I personally think of myself as an abstainer, but not a total abstainer. And I’m grateful that, because of the example set by my family, I have always been cautious in these matters and am happy to say that I have never been drunk, something which even some Christians find hard to believe. Family and Holidays But Christmas was not the only time when I met other family members. There were the summer holidays too. Hotels were too expensive, and we usually spent a couple of weeks away from home staying with family. During my primary school years we went several times to Cowes on the Isle of Wight where my father’s sister, Auntie Lil, had a flat overlooking the sea. Her husband, Uncle Ernie, was a lighthouse keeper on the Needles, an impressive rock formation just offshore at the western end of the island. His job required him to live on the lighthouse for several weeks at a time, so sometimes we never saw him at all during the weeks we were on holiday with Auntie Lil. But when he was able to be with us, I remember that he was very generous. We usually had to travel everywhere by bus, but on one occasion he paid for a taxi to take us on a tour of the whole island. Another time, when I was eight, he paid for my father and me to go on a ‘joy-ride’, a five minute trip on an aeroplane, an Auster light aircraft with just enough room for Dad and me to sit behind the pilot. I realise that this might not sound very exciting to young people today. Plane travel is so common, and many families take flights abroad for their holidays. But in those days it really was something exceptional. No one in my class at school had ever been in a plane, and my teacher got me to tell them all what it was like. We had only gone up to 1000 feet, but the experience of flying was exhilarating as we looked down on houses that now looked no bigger than a matchbox and were able to see so far into the distance, across to the southern coast of England and beyond. I’m so grateful to Uncle Ernie for making that experience possible for me. (It cost him seven shillings and sixpence which was a lot of money in those days, but which in today’s decimal currency equates to 37.5p). Due to his kindness and Auntie Lil’s hospitality we always enjoyed our holidays on the Isle of Wight. Another favourite holiday destination, particularly during my early teens, was Canterbury where my mother’s sister, another Auntie Lil, lived with her husband Will and her daughter Doreen who was an English teacher in a Grammar School. I remember listening to her discussions with my dad about the nature of language, something I was particularly interested in because by then I was already studying French, Latin, and Greek at school. But more of that later. While in Canterbury we enjoyed visiting its wonderful cathedral and other places of historical interest like the Westgate Tower and the ducking stool where in less enlightened centuries women who scolded their husbands were ducked in the river to teach them a lesson! We also took advantage of the beautiful countryside around Canterbury and particularly enjoyed walking across the golf course which immediately overlooked my aunt’s back garden. Other days were spent taking bus trips to the coastal resorts that lay within easy reach of Canterbury – places like Herne Bay, Margate, and Ramsgate, all lovely places, but nothing of course to compare with the beauty of Devon where I now live! My first holiday in Devon was when I was fifteen – but that’s something I’ll come back to next time when I talk about my teenage years at church and my life at Brentwood School where I was privileged by God’s grace to receive a first-class education. But finally, I’m conscious that in this talk I’ve made little mention of God, but I’m reminded that in the book of Esther God isn’t mentioned either, yet it’s very clear as we read it that he was at work in every detail of the story. So it is with us. His purpose for each of us is different, but he is at work in the ordinary everyday things in our lives, not just in any miracles he may perform for us. So I thank God for the home I grew up in, the family I was part of, and the fun we had together at Christmas and on holiday. These things, I believe, played an important part in my childhood and teenage years enabling me to grow into adulthood, confident to face the future, knowing that God loved me and had a purpose for my life.
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289 My Story Talk 2 School, Sunday School, and Salvation
01/18/2025
289 My Story Talk 2 School, Sunday School, and Salvation
Talk 2 School, Sunday School, & Salvation Welcome to Talk 2 in our new series where I’m reflecting on my how the Lord has blessed my life. Today I’ll be talking about my time at Primary School, at Sunday School, and how I learnt at the age of eight how to be saved. Suttons Lane County Primary School My first school was situated on Suttons Lane, quite close to Hornchurch aerodrome. On the edge of town, to the south it had open views of the fairly flat countryside on the northern side of the River Thames. It was less than a ten-minute walk from my house. From an early age I was able to walk to school unattended as there were no roads to cross thanks to ‘the cinder track’, a footpath that ran along the edge of what we called ‘the farmer’s field’ where we would see horses pulling a plough to prepare the soil for the potatoes that were grown there. Every day at school began with the teacher marking the register followed by assembly in the school hall where we sang a hymn, said the Lord’s Prayer together, and listened to any announcements the headmaster had to give us. I don’t know how many of our teachers were practising Christians, but the emphasis in assembly was distinctly Christian, as was the teaching in the weekly Scripture – later to be called Religious Education – lessons we had in class. In those days it was a legal requirement for all schools to include Scripture on the curriculum and for each day to begin with an act of Christian worship. So the Christian teaching I received at home and at Sunday School was reinforced by what went on at school. The truth of the Christian message was still widely assumed, even if church attendance had greatly diminished as a result of the war. How different things are today! I can see with hindsight that, although I didn’t realise it at the time, one of the reasons I enjoyed school was that there was no conflict between what I was taught at home and what I was taught at school. And, of course, I enjoyed it too because, unlike some schools today that have misguidedly sold off their playing fields for commercial purposes, our school shared a playing field with the adjacent secondary school, where we played cricket and football, both of which were probably my favourite activities. I played for the school team at both cricket and football, the love of which I inherited from my father who on Saturdays was an active player in both. I loved going to watch him play for the Elm Park Football Club and the Cranham Cricket Club. He once told me he thought that the boys in the secondary school where he taught paid more attention to his Scripture lessons because he also taught them to play football. He was a qualified F.A. Coach, and, incidentally, also told me that one of the boys he had coached played in the England team that won the World Cup in 1966. I still have a box full of medals he won for cricket, football, snooker, and tennis. He was seven times the champion of the Elm Park Lawn Tennis Club. But I think I also enjoyed school because I was good at my lessons. As I’ve already mentioned, I started school at the age of 4 in September 1943. Educationally I had the distinct advantage that my father was a teacher and had taught me to read and write before I went to school, and so by the time I was 7 my parents were told that I had a reading age of 12. In saying this I hope I don’t give the impression that I’m boasting. I learnt long ago that true humility is not a matter of pretending that you don’t really have any talents or gifts, but acknowledging that what you do have comes from God, and that all the credit is his and not ours. If I have a good brain, it is God who gave me that brain, and I have no right to boast about my academic achievements. But that does not mean that I may not mention them! As God said to Jeremiah: Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations (Jeremiah 1:5). Before we were born, God had a purpose for each one of us, and he created us with the abilities we would need to fulfil that purpose. It’s our decision as to whether we fulfil that purpose or not. So I thank God for the good brain he gave me and for parents who encouraged me to use it. And if I tell you that every year I attended that school I came top of the class, you’ll understand that my reason for doing so is to show how, without my realising it, he was guiding me onto a pathway where academic achievement would be an essential part of the work that he had planned for me to do. Sunday School and Church But school was not the only place I was learning. Probably the most influential source in my education was what my parents taught me at home. But more of that in a moment. I was also learning at Sunday School and at other church related activities like Lifeboys (the name then given to the junior section of the Boys’ Brigade). My first reaction to Sunday School was that I didn’t like it! I was only 4 and I’m grateful to my parents that when I told them so they did not force me to go. A little later they suggested very gently that I might like to try it again, and this time I enjoyed it. Because of the wisdom they showed in this matter, I always knew that attendance at Sunday School or Church was to be my decision. No one could ever say that I only went because my parents made me go. And so I went of my own free will, and year after year was given a book as a prize for good attendance. The annual Sunday School Prize Giving Sunday was a big event, and many of the parents who were not church-goers came to see their children receive their prizes. Sunday School, which in most churches took place in the afternoon, was a big thing in the 1940s and 1950s. Even parents who did not come to church wanted their children to be taught about the Bible – or they were just glad to get a break from the kids on a Sunday afternoon! We were told that our church had the largest Sunday School in Essex with up to 400 children attending each Sunday. My mother was a Sunday School teacher and my father taught the teenage Bible Class, but more of that in the next talk. Unlike most of the children who attended Sunday School, I also attended church. I think my first experience of church was travelling on a Sunday evening up to London to attend the church where my parents had attended before the war. We travelled on the London Underground railway on the District Line between Elm Park and Bromley stations, and I took an instant dislike to London because at that time much of that area was damaged, dirty, and quite smelly. The Tab which formerly, I was told, had up to a thousand in its congregation, had been bombed in the war and, as far as I know was never rebuilt. Many of the people’s houses had been destroyed and, rather like my parents, they had moved away from the East End of London. Consequently the meetings I went to as a young child with my parents were attended by at most a few dozen people and took place in the upstairs room of a pub, which I seem to remember was called The Five Bells. The meetings weren’t really suitable for children, and I didn’t really enjoy the fuss that all the adults made of me. One thing I did like was the minister, Mr Tildsley, referring to me as King David and perhaps that sparked in my young heart a desire to copy my namesake and achieve great victories for God. Fortunately, as far as I was concerned, my parents soon decided that it was time to settle into a church that was nearer to where they were now living, so we started attending Elm Park Baptist which was a relatively new church as most of the houses in the area, like ours, had only been constructed in the mid to late 1930s. It was a warm friendly church with lots of activities for children and young people and, although I couldn’t understand all that the minister said in his sermons on Sunday evenings, it’s clear, looking back on it, that it was all influencing my mind in the right direction, leading me ultimately in my teens to give my life to Jesus. But that’s a subject for our next talk. However, before we get there, it’s important that I tell you how, at the age of 8, I came to understand how to be sure I would go the Heaven when I die. The way of salvation I remember how, at the age of 8, I was sitting on my father's knee when I asked him, Daddy, how good do you have to be to go to Heaven? I think the question was on my mind because of something that was called David's Good Boy Chart. This was a chart my father had made rather like a calendar with a space for each day for him to stick on it a coloured sun or moon or star, depending on how my behaviour had been that day. I think he had made it because my mother had been having some problems with me during the day while he was at work. When he got home, my mother would tell him how I had behaved that day and an appropriate sticker would be applied to the chart. If I'd been good, it would be a sun, not so good, a moon, and so on. I think I must have been wondering how many suns I would need if I wanted to go to Heaven! My father explained that it isn’t a question of how good we are, because none of us is good enough to go to heaven. That's why Jesus came to die on the cross to take the punishment for our sins so that all who believe in him will have everlasting life. Then he asked, Do you believe that, David? I replied, Yes, of course I do. And why do you believe it? asked my father. Because you have told me, I said. That's a good reason, he said, but one day you will come to believe it for yourself. That's the first time I can remember that I was consciously aware of the truth of the gospel. I suppose that, like many who have been brought up in a Christian home, I can't put a date on when I first believed. It feels as though I have always believed. I cannot remember a time when I did not believe. I used to be concerned about this, especially when so many Christians can remember a specific date. But then I heard an illustration that was very helpful. I never forgot, and will never forget, the date when Eileen and I married. But even if one year I had forgotten it, I would never have forgotten that I was married and who I was married to! The point of the illustration is this. The date that my married relationship with Eileen started was relatively unimportant compared with our relationship throughout our married lives. The same applies to our relationship with Jesus. What matters is not when our relationship started, but whether I am in relationship with him now. Am I trusting him now for the forgiveness of my sins and my home in heaven? And if I am, then the exact date it all started is relatively unimportant. So I cannot remember an exact date when I first believed but I can remember the day when I decided to give my life to Christ. And again, it was through my father that I came to that decision. But we'll come to that in a later talk.
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288 My Story Talk1 Family Background and World War 2
01/10/2025
288 My Story Talk1 Family Background and World War 2
My Story Talk 1 Family Background and World War 2 Introduction Welcome back to Great Bible Truths with me, Dr David Petts. As this podcast will go out live in early January let me take this opportunity to wish you God’s richest blessings for the coming year. Let me also apologise that my website was down for several weeks, but the good news is that it’s now up and running again. Now, as I mentioned in my last talk at the end of our series on Mark’s Gospel, this year, God willing, I’m planning both to write and record my memoirs in order to place on record God’s goodness throughout my life, from the moment of conception in my mother’s womb, right through to this present time. I also hope that the things I record may be of some historical and sociological interest, particular to younger people. What’s more, I’m convinced that, if he can bless me, he can bless you too, and my purpose in doing this is to encourage your faith, if you are already a Christian, and, if you’re not, to persuade you that, if you put your trust in Christ as your personal Saviour, you will discover how trustworthy and faithful he is. Some of God’s miraculous interventions in my life have already been recorded in some of my books, notably in Signs from Heaven – why I Believe and The Voice of God – how he speaks to us today. But there’s still so much more to tell, and friends and family have been encouraging me that now is the time to get on and do it. And, even more importantly, I feel that God himself is prompting me to do so. Now you may be wondering why I am including talks about my personal experience under the general heading of Great Bible Truths. That’s an understandable question, but the answer is simply that as Christians our lives are meant to illustrate and demonstrate how the truth of God’s Word works out in practice. In 2 Corinthians 3:2 Paul talks about the Corinthians themselves as a letter… known and read by everyone. And, although in the context Paul is talking about his readers as the living proof of his apostolic ministry, there seems to be here an underlying principle that our lives are, or at least should be, living testimonies to the truth we believe. And finally, by way of introduction, I need to say that I am very well aware that, again in the words of the apostle Paul, By the grace of God, I am what I am (1 Corinthians 15:10). Whatever we are, whatever we have done, whatever gifts and talents we may have, it’s all by the grace of God. And all the glory must always go to him. But now to my story. My parents My story, of course, begins with my parents. Stanley and Ivy Petts (née Claus) were both born in Poplar, East London, in September 1907. Their home backgrounds were very different. Mum’s childhood was very difficult, her father often coming home drunk. Her mother died before I was born. She left six children, two boys, Harry and Bill, and four girls, Minnie, Lily, Ivy, and Addie. As far as I know, only Minnie and my mum, Ivy, ever became Christians. On the other hand, my dad’s family were all Christians attending the Poplar and Bromley Baptist Tabernacle, affectionately known as The Tab, and it was there that my dad met my mum. Dad had three sisters, Lily, Violet, and May. May was born deaf and dumb – that’s how it’s recorded on the national register – but, as I’ve already recorded in my book Signs from Heaven, was miraculously healed in answer to prayer . When she was in her twenties, my grandmother took her to a divine healing meeting conducted by the evangelist, George Jeffreys , who placed his hands on her and prayed for her. That evening, as they were travelling home to Poplar in the East End of London, they went down to catch the underground train. Suddenly, with a shocked expression on her face, May put both hands over her ears. She could hear the roar of the train as it came through the tunnel approaching the platform! Until that moment, from the day she was born she had never been able to hear, but now she could hear, and within a few weeks was beginning to speak. I suppose that’s why I’ve never doubted God’s miracle working power and firmly believe that we should expect to see miracles today. Mum and Dad were married on August 4th 1934 and lived with his parents until they were able to afford a home of their own. During the time they were there, my mother sadly had a miscarriage and, as my father told me years later, the doctor had expressed the opinion that she might be unable to have children. But they prayed that, in my mother’s words, the Lord would give her a son, and that he would go into all the world and preach the gospel. But I knew nothing of all this until I was sixteen when I told my parents that I believed that God was calling me to serve him as a minister. In 1937 Mum and Dad moved into their own home, a new-build semi-detached house in Hornchurch, which, with the help of a mortgage, they were able to purchase for the princely sum of – wait for it – £630 (six hundred and thirty pounds)! Prices for similar properties in the same area today are closer to £630,000! I was born in the front bedroom of that house on January 12th 1939, and my late wife Eileen was born 6 days earlier in Stockport, Cheshire. That was just eight months before Britain declared war on Germany on 3rd September 1939. Of course, I was too young to remember very much of the early years of the war, but I was already 6 years old when the war ended and have just a few memories of what life was like at the time. Earliest Memories During the first part of the war, between 1939 and 1941, because Hornchurch was an area that was likely to be bombed, my mother and I were evacuated to a village called Marcham (near to Abingdon). We stayed in a vicarage with the vicar and his wife (Rev and Mrs Palmer). I have no clear memories of that time, although I do remember the vicarage, from when we went back to visit them after the war. My father wasn’t with us for much of the time because, although he was not in the armed forces as he was a conscientious objector, he was sent as a schoolteacher to what was called an Approved School (which was where they used to send juvenile delinquents). It was a residential establishment near Woking in Surrey and my dad had to live there much of the time, so we didn't see much of him as it was some distance from where we were in Marcham, and in those days very few people had cars. In 1941 my father was transferred to a different Approved School. This was nearer to Hornchurch and so my mother and I left Marcham and returned home to be nearer to my father. However, our house was less than half a mile from Hornchurch aerodrome, which played a very important part in the Battle of Britain. So there was still a very real danger of being bombed by enemy aircraft. My main memories of those early years were having to take refuge in an air-raid shelter whenever the siren sounded. (The siren gave a very loud signal when enemy aircraft were approaching and a different signal called the ‘all-clear’ when the danger was over). There were two kinds of shelter, the Morrison shelter and the Anderson shelter. We had a Morrison shelter which was like a very strong table, made of steel, which you had indoors. I can remember having to go underneath it at night when the siren sounded – we slept on the floor underneath it. I can also remember banging my head on it as I was getting out from underneath it! All the houses had to have ‘blackouts’ to cover the windows at night so that enemy aircraft would not see the light in the house. I remember my mum peeping out from behind the blackout during one of the raids and telling me that she could see a Spitfire chasing off a German plane. I can’t remember ever feeling afraid. Perhaps it was because I was too young to understand the danger, but also because of my mum’s confidence that God would keep us safe. Other people had Anderson shelters. These were in the garden, dug into the ground, and made of corrugated iron – rather like some of the things pig farmers use to shelter their pigs today. The infant school I went to from the age of four in September 1943 had a large version of one of these which was big enough for all the children to get into if there was a raid during school-time. I can only remember going into it once but can’t remember much more about it. Quite recently, however, I discovered that an enemy aircraft had crashed into the secondary school which was only about 100 yards from my infant school, and I have wondered if this had coincided with the time we were all in the air raid shelter. Of course, I have no way of knowing this, but I am so grateful that our lives were spared throughout that awful time when so many others lost theirs. When the war ended, all over the country people held parties in the street to celebrate. (There were not many cars around in those days!) I remember we had a big bonfire in the middle of the road – something which I imagine would not be allowed today – and the concrete was broken up where the bonfire had been. My final memory of the war and the years that followed it is what was called ‘rationing’. Because there was a great shortage of food and clothing during that time people were given ration books with coupons in. To buy something (including sweets!) you needed not only money, but coupons. I remember my mum being pleased with me because I had bigger feet than most of the children. It meant she was allowed extra clothing coupons! The rationing went on for some time after the war and I well remember the first time we were allowed to buy as many sweets as we liked because there was no more rationing! But now it’s time to finish for today, so let’s summarise by asking what Bible truths have been illustrated by the experiences I have been talking about. The first of these truths is that God answers believing prayer. Despite what she had been told, my mother prayed for a son, and God answered her prayer. Secondly, nothing is impossible with God. There was no medical cure for my aunt’s condition, but God worked a miracle in response to the evangelist’s prayer. This shows us, thirdly, that God still grants supernatural gifts like healing as signs confirming the truth of the gospel. We also see that God has a purpose for our lives and that he is able to protect us from danger in order to fulfil it. Next time I’ll be talking about the years after the war, my time at primary school, and my first experience of Sunday school and going to church.
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287 Mark 16:1-20 The Resurrection and Great Commission
11/07/2024
287 Mark 16:1-20 The Resurrection and Great Commission
Talk 48 Mark 16:1-20 The Resurrection and Great Commission Welcome to Talk 48 in our series on Mark’s Gospel. This will be the final talk in the series, and we’ll be looking at Chapter 16 which is Mark’s account of Jesus’ resurrection and his final instructions to his disciples which are often referred to as The Great Commission. We'll work through the chapter a verse or two at a time, and will begin by reading verses 1-4. When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus' body. 2 Very early on the first day of the week, just after sunrise, they were on their way to the tomb 3 and they asked each other, "Who will roll the stone away from the entrance of the tomb?" 4 But when they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. Verses 1-2 In our last talk we commented on the devotion of these and many other women who had faithfully followed Jesus right from the beginning of his ministry in Galilee. Now we see them buying spices to anoint Jesus’ body. What they did not know was that Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus had already done so when they buried him in accordance with Jewish burial customs (John 19:40), and that by the time they were to reach the tomb Jesus would have already risen. But of course, like the rest of the disciples, they were not expecting him to rise despite all that Jesus had told them. If they had been, they would have known that to anoint his body would be completely unnecessary! Verse 3 The stone which Joseph put in place would have been in a sloping groove down which he had rolled the stone to cover the entrance to the tomb. The two Marys had seen him do this (15:47) and now, on the way to the tomb, realised that unaided they would be unable to move it back. Why hadn’t they thought of this before? When we are grieving we don’t always think as clearly as usual and now the women are anticipating a problem which, as they were soon to discover, would not be a problem at all! The Lord had already dealt with it! Verse 4 Have you ever set out to do something for the Lord which you felt sure he wanted you to do, and then discovered that you’d got it wrong? Or perhaps, as you’ve set out to do it, doubts have come into your mind, unforeseen potential problems have occurred to you, and you’ve wondered how you could possibly achieve your goal. That’s certainly been my experience, and that exactly what was happening with these women. Their motivation was pure. What they were doing they were doing out of love for the Lord. But their mistake – if it was a mistake – was that, like the rest of the disciples, they didn’t remember or didn’t believe what Jesus had said. Was the Lord displeased with their actions? Surely not. As we see in the next few verses, they were given the great privilege of announcing the news of the resurrection to the other disciples. Even when we get things wrong, the Lord still has work for us to do. Now let’s read verses 5-8: 5 As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed. 6 "Don't be alarmed," he said. "You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. 7 But go, tell his disciples and Peter, 'He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.'" 8 Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid. I want you to notice the extreme emotions experienced by the women in these verses. This is completely understandable. They were grieving – over the terrible suffering they had so recently seen inflicted on someone they so dearly loved – over the fact, or what they thought was a fact, that all their hopes for the future had been dashed – over the loss of a loved one. As we have seen, they are not thinking clearly. They are wondering who can have moved the stone. They enter the tomb and are confronted by an angel! No wonder they’re alarmed, trembling and bewildered. But grieving can bring with it other emotions too, as I have recently discovered in my own experience. I’ve found that we can weep tears of sorrow and, paradoxically, tears of joy too. And I’ve experienced both at the same time! And there’s a hint in verse 8 that that is what these women were experiencing too. The word translated bewildered in the Greek is ekstasis. It can also mean astonishment or amazement. But interestingly, in Matthew’s account he uses a different word, chara, which means joy! And where does this joy come from? It comes from the news the angel brings them – Jesus is not here. He has risen! What a consolation that was to become! And it’s our consolation too. Because he lives, we shall live also. And our loved ones who die in the Lord are not here. They are with Christ, which is far better. And the day will come when we will see them again, as these devoted women soon were to see Jesus. Perhaps it’s this strange mixture of emotions that can account for the fact that, despite the good news, the women fled from the tomb and said nothing to anyone because they were afraid. This was presumably just their initial reaction, because verse 9 tells us Mary Magdalene, at least, went and told the good news to the other disciples. And according to the angel’s instructions, that was to include Peter. If, as is widely believed, Mark derived his information from Peter, it’s perhaps significant that Peter gets a special mention here. It was Peter who had denied the Lord and who in John 21 is graciously given the opportunity to reaffirm his love for Jesus. Even when we fail him, the Lord is constantly seeking to draw us back to himself. But that, according to the earliest manuscripts is where Mark’s Gospel abruptly ends. Verses 9-20 are viewed by some scholars as a later addition. But these verses have for a long time formed part of Scripture as we know it and, as we shall see, the basic truth contained in them is confirmed elsewhere in the New Testament. So now, verses 9-11. 9 When Jesus rose early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had driven seven demons. 10 She went and told those who had been with him and who were mourning and weeping. 11 When they heard that Jesus was alive and that she had seen him, they did not believe it. The fact that Jesus appeared first to Mary Magdalene is confirmed in all four Gospels, although as usual the other Gospels give more details than we find in Mark. Although initially afraid to say anything (v8), possibly due to emotional trauma, she has now gained the courage to do so. And if we read John’s account the reason is clear. She has seen the Lord. He has spoken to her. He has called her by name. The encounter with Jesus makes all the difference. She goes and tells the other disciples that she has seen him. Bearing in mind the repeated lack of faith exhibited by the disciples throughout Jesus’ ministry, we’re not surprised that at first they did not believe her. This unbelief is stressed again in verses 12-14: 12 Afterward Jesus appeared in a different form to two of them while they were walking in the country. 13 These returned and reported it to the rest; but they did not believe them either. 14 Later Jesus appeared to the Eleven as they were eating; he rebuked them for their lack of faith and their stubborn refusal to believe those who had seen him after he had risen. Of course, verses 12-13 are a very brief summary of Luke 24:13-35 where Jesus appears to the two disciples on the Road to Emmaus, and where Jesus appearing to the Eleven follows immediately afterwards. We sometimes blame Thomas because he refused to believe until he saw for himself (John 20:24-28), but it seems that the other disciples were no less guilty, and Jesus’ words to Thomas were applicable to them all – Because you have seen me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed. And the importance of believing is stressed in the following verses where faith is the essential prerequisite for salvation and for seeing miracles performed in Jesus’ name. Verses 15-18 15 He said to them, "Go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation. 16 Whoever believes and is baptized will be saved, but whoever does not believe will be condemned. 17 And these signs will accompany those who believe: In my name they will drive out demons; they will speak in new tongues; 18 they will pick up snakes with their hands; and when they drink deadly poison, it will not hurt them at all; they will place their hands on sick people, and they will get well." Now that Jesus has died and risen again, the work he had come to do has been accomplished. The Lamb of God has been slain to take away the sins of the world. He has borne the punishment that our sins deserved, and forgiveness and salvation are available to all who will believe. That’s good news indeed and all the world needs to hear it. The disciples, and all disciples after them, are to go and spread the message to all creation. But why creation? Because, as Paul teaches us in Romans 8:21-22, all creation was affected by Adam’s sin and all creation has been groaning right up to this present time and is waiting to be liberated from its bondage to decay. For that we must wait until Jesus returns, when the entire creation will see the manifestation of the victory he accomplished at Calvary. Forgiveness of sin and eternal life are available right now to all who will believe, but the final outworking of Christ’s victory at Calvary, the abolition of sickness and death, the redemption of our bodies, the new heavens and the new earth, are all future blessings for which we must patiently wait. But even now God grants us foretastes of those blessings through the miracle-working power of the Spirit. Most of the miracles Jesus promises in these verses are seen again and again in the Book of Acts. The Spirit-filled disciples drive out demons, speak languages they have never learnt, and heal the sick in Jesus’ name. Paul was even delivered from snakebite. The only miracle listed here that is not mentioned in Acts is drinking deadly poison. And these miracle signs were not just for the early church. William Burton records in his book Signs Following examples of all these miracles taking place in the early days of the Congo Evangelistic Mission. But that does not mean that the Lord Jesus intended us to claim these signs as promises. What he is saying is that these are the kind of miracles we can expect when we go out to proclaim the good news. Spiritual gifts are distributed as the Holy Spirit determines (1 Corinthians 12:11). Our responsibility is to tell others about Jesus and to trust the Holy Spirit to confirm what we say with whatever kind of sign he chooses. Verses 19-20 19 After the Lord Jesus had spoken to them, he was taken up into heaven and he sat at the right hand of God. 20 Then the disciples went out and preached everywhere, and the Lord worked with them and confirmed his word by the signs that accompanied it. In Mark’s Gospel verses 15-20 are the last recorded words of Jesus before he returned to Heaven. Luke’s Gospel and the first chapter of Acts (which gives a little more detail about Jesus’ ascension into Heaven) records his last words as telling his disciples to wait until they are baptised in the Spirit and that they would receive power when the Spirit came upon them and be his witnesses to the ends of the earth. There is, of course no contradiction here. The power of the Spirit was, and still is, essential if miracles are to happen in Jesus’ name. The message that Jesus is alive is confirmed by the fact that he is still working miracles today. He is still seated at God’s right hand. All authority is his on earth as it is in Heaven. It’s with that authority that, in the words of Matthew’s Gospel, we go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. He will work with us, if we will only go and tell. As I have already said, this is the final talk in our series on Mark. In January, God willing, I will begin a new series which will take the form of personal testimonies to God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Meanwhile, some 300 podcasts of my teaching remain available.
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286 Mark 15:40-47 The Burial of Jesus
10/30/2024
286 Mark 15:40-47 The Burial of Jesus
Talk 47 Mark 15:40-47 The Burial of Jesus Welcome to Talk 47 in our series on Mark’s Gospel. We have now reached Mark 15:40. Today we’ll be concentrating on Jesus’ burial and, as we do so, we’ll take time to note the importance of the certification of his death and of the key roles played by Joseph of Arimathea and women like Mary Magdalene. Next time, which will be our final talk in this series, we’ll be looking at Mark’s account of the resurrection and the Great Commission. As we proceed we will take time to stress the importance of each of these historical facts without getting involved with relatively minor issues like the apparent differences in the Gospel accounts, or whether, as some have argued, Jesus was actually crucified on the Thursday, rather than, as is traditionally taught, on what we know as Good Friday. Such discussion is generally unproductive. As far as any differences in the accounts are concerned, I have already pointed out in my book, You’d Better Believe It, that the Schofield Bible offers an explanation of how the different accounts of Christ’s resurrection appearances can be reconciled. What’s more, any such differences actually strengthen the case for the resurrection as they suggest that there was no collaboration between the four writers. And does it really matter what day he was crucified? Surely what matters is that Christ died for our sins… was buried… and rose again. This, says Paul in 1 Corinthians 15:1-4, is the essence of the gospel. So, over these two final talks, we’ll take the text of Mark’s Gospel as we have it and consider Jesus’ burial, the confirmation of his death, his resurrection, and his last instructions to his disciples. We’ll begin today by reading verses 42-47: 42 It was Preparation Day (that is, the day before the Sabbath). So as evening approached, 43 Joseph of Arimathea, a prominent member of the Council, who was himself waiting for the kingdom of God, went boldly to Pilate and asked for Jesus' body. 44 Pilate was surprised to hear that he was already dead. Summoning the centurion, he asked him if Jesus had already died. 45 When he learned from the centurion that it was so, he gave the body to Joseph. 46 So Joseph bought some linen cloth, took down the body, wrapped it in the linen, and placed it in a tomb cut out of rock. Then he rolled a stone against the entrance of the tomb. 47 Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where he was laid. We’ll start with the confirmation of Jesus’ death. Joseph goes to Pilate and asks for the body of Jesus, but Pilate needs to be sure that Jesus is already dead. Some victims of crucifixion had been known to survive for days. He summons the centurion who crucified Jesus, who assures him that Jesus really is dead. So Pilate gives the body to Joseph. Why is this important? Why has Mark chosen to include this detail about the certification of Jesus’ death? Because the entire truth of the resurrection rests upon it. There have always been those who, refusing to believe the clear evidence of the Gospel writers, have argued that Jesus only appeared to die on the cross but recovered in the tomb and walked out! And if Jesus did not die, the resurrection is a myth! There is no truth in the gospel that Christ died for our sins, that he was buried and that he rose again (1 Corinthians 15:1-4). The certainty of the resurrection rests securely on the certainty of his death. And his burial is important too. This not only gives added confirmation to the fact that Jesus was truly dead, but it also helps us in our understanding of the significance of baptism. In Romans 6:4 and Colossians 2:12 Paul teaches us that in baptism we are buried with Christ and raised with him to live a new life through our faith in the power of God. Of course, the word for baptise in Greek is baptizo which always means immerse, and all baptisms in the New Testament were by immersion. But how does this relate to Jesus’ burial? Let me put it like this: When we first put our faith in Jesus we acknowledged that on the cross he died in our place, to take the punishment for our sins. In so doing we identified ourselves with his death. That’s why Paul could say in Galatians 2:20, I was crucified with Christ, and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. When you gave your life to Christ, you became a new creation (2 Corinthians 5:17). The old you died and a new you came alive. Baptism is a wonderful picture of that truth. Jesus died, was buried, and rose again. In baptism you act out your identification with him as you are buried in the water and come up out of it to live out the new life he has already given you. (See my book, You’d Better Believe It, for more on this). But let’s look now at the man who buried the Lord Jesus, Joseph of Arimathea. Let’s read again verses 42-43. 42 It was Preparation Day (that is, the day before the Sabbath). So as evening approached, 43 Joseph of Arimathea, a prominent member of the Council, who was himself waiting for the kingdom of God, went boldly to Pilate and asked for Jesus' body. And verses 46-47 46 So Joseph bought some linen cloth, took down the body, wrapped it in the linen, and placed it in a tomb cut out of rock. Then he rolled a stone against the entrance of the tomb. 47 Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where he was laid. First, please note the urgency of the situation. As I’m sure you know, the Jewish Sabbath lasted from sunset on Friday to sunset on Saturday. That’s why it was important for Jesus to be buried very soon after he died. Apart from the fact that it was against the Law for a dead body to remain exposed overnight, for the Jews all forms of work were prohibited on the Sabbath. So if Jesus’ followers didn’t bury him before sunset the Romans would have disposed of his body as they were not subject to the laws of the Sabbath. And, as verse 42 tells us, evening was already approaching when Joseph went to Pilate to ask for Jesus’ body. Joseph was a well-respected member of the Sanhedrin, most of whom, as we know, were bitterly opposed to Jesus, but Joseph was an exception. When Mark says that he was himself waiting for the kingdom of God, he is implying that Joseph was a follower of Jesus, albeit until now, secretly. He had been present at Jesus’ trial before the high priest, but we’re told in Luke 23:51 that he had not consented to their decision and action. Clearly Joseph had now decided to let his respect for Jesus be known publicly. What he was about to do could hardly be kept a secret. By coming in contact with a dead body he would make himself ritually unclean and would not be able to attend the synagogue the following day. His absence would be noticed. What’s more, it was a risky thing to show sympathy with anyone who had been crucified, especially on a charge of sedition. He was in danger not only of incurring the wrath of the Jewish authorities, but of the Romans too. No doubt that’s why Mark says that Joseph went boldly to Pilate and asked for Jesus’ body. Verse 46 tells us that, after Pilate had authorised Joseph to have the body Joseph bought some linen cloth, took down the body, wrapped it in the linen, and placed it in a tomb cut out of rock. Then he rolled a stone against the entrance of the tomb. Matthew 27:60 explains that this tomb was one which Joseph had had carved for himself, and, to complete the picture, John 19:39 tells us that he was accompanied by Nicodemus, the member of the Sanhedrin who had come to Jesus by night in John 3. Perhaps he too had decided that it was high time to make his secret discipleship public. The message of Christ crucified demands a decision of us all. In the light of his death, are we prepared to stand up for him? But Joseph and Nicodemus were not the only ones to play a significant part in the burial of Jesus. Verse 47 tells us that Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where he was laid. It’s time for us now to consider the important role of such women in the life of Jesus, and now at his death. We’ll start by going back to verses 40 and 41. 40 Some women were watching from a distance. Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome. 41 In Galilee these women had followed him and cared for his needs. Many other women who had come up with him to Jerusalem were also there. In many ways these verses should have been included at the end of our last talk, as they are part of the story of the crucifixion, but I have left them until now to link them with the references to these women a little later in the story. We have been told so much about Jesus’ male disciples that it’s easy to forget that he had female disciples too. Three women are named in these verses, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James and Joses, and Salome. But Mark tells us that many other women were also there watching the crucifixion from a distance. They had followed him since the early days of his ministry in Galilee and had cared for his needs. And, as we see in the last verse of the chapter and the first of the next, these devoted disciples were determined to care for his needs even after his death. 47 Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where he was laid. 15:1 When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus' body. The three women named in these verses were among many who were not only devoted followers of Jesus, but who also supported Jesus and the apostles out of their own means. Luke 8:1-3 tells us that as Jesus travelled about proclaiming the good news of the kingdom… …The Twelve were with him, 2 and also some women who had been cured of evil spirits and diseases: Mary (called Magdalene) from whom seven demons had come out 3 Joanna the wife of Cuza, the manager of Herod's household; Susanna; and many others. These women were helping to support them out of their own means. These verses indicate the highly valued role of women among the early disciples, their devotion to Jesus often exceeding that of the men, as it does so often today. Apart from the apostle John, it was women, not men, who stood near the cross as Jesus was crucified (John 19:25-27), and, apart from secret disciples like Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, it was women who participated in his burial and brought precious spices to anoint his body. And, as we see in the next chapter, it was to women that was given the first good news that Christ was risen. We’ll move into Chapter 16 next time for the final talk in our series, but let’s conclude today’s talk by considering the role of Mary Magdalene. Perhaps the first thing to notice is that it is Mary Magdalene who is mentioned first each time these women are mentioned: 40 Some women were watching from a distance. Among them were Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome. 47 Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where he was laid. 15:1 When the Sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices so that they might go to anoint Jesus' body. Secondly, Mary was the first person to witness the resurrection of Jesus: 15:9 When Jesus rose early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had driven seven demons. Thirdly, she was the first person to proclaim the news that Jesus was risen: 15:10 She went and told those who had been with him. The question naturally arises as to why Mary was so honoured. That verse in 1 Samuel 2:30 comes to mind – Those who honour me, I will honour. Mary had honoured the Lord by supporting him throughout his ministry, by remaining to the end at the scene of the crucifixion, by following Joseph to see where Jesus was buried, and by buying spices to anoint his body. She was clearly devoted to him. And that devotion sprang from what Jesus had done for her. He had driven seven demons out of her. Her deliverance led to a lifetime of devotion. And isn’t that what motivates us? We love him because he first loved us. And if we honour him, the day will come when he will honour us.
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285 Mark 15:16-39 The Crucifixion
10/21/2024
285 Mark 15:16-39 The Crucifixion
Talk 46 Mark 15:16-39 The Crucifixion Welcome to Talk 46 in our series on Mark’s Gospel. Before we begin, I want to apologise to those of you who have been trying to visit my website. We’ve been facing some technical difficulties which have yet to be resolved and this has resulted in some delay in the production of these podcasts. However, as you must have discovered if you are now listening to this podcast, all my podcasts are accessible from the usual podcast providers. If in doubt, please google Great Bible Truths with Dr David Petts. But sincere apologies for any inconvenience you may have experienced so far. But now, for today’s talk. Last time we considered Mark 15:1-15 where Jesus is tried before Pontius Pilate. We noted: 1. The continued determination of the Jewish leaders to have Jesus crucified 2. The total commitment of Jesus to the way of the cross 3. The complete moral failure of Pilate to do what was right. And we saw that at the end of that passage Pilate has Jesus flogged and hands him over to be crucified. Today we pick up, the story in verses 16-20: 16 The soldiers led Jesus away into the palace (that is, the Praetorium) and called together the whole company of soldiers. 17 They put a purple robe on him, then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on him. 18 And they began to call out to him, "Hail, king of the Jews!" 19 Again and again they struck him on the head with a staff and spat on him. Falling on their knees, they paid homage to him. 20 And when they had mocked him, they took off the purple robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him out to crucify him. Jesus had said yes when Pilate asked him, Are you the king of the Jews? (v2). Of course, the soldiers would have thought that this was an absurd claim, and so they decided that, before they led him away to be crucified, they’d have some fun at his expense. So they put a purple robe on him. They put a crown of thorns on his head and called out, Hail, king of the Jews!" They fell on their knees and paid mock homage to him. Then, when their fun was over, they led him away to be crucified. But, as we shall see later, the soldiers weren’t the only ones to mock him. But first, verses 21-26: 21 A certain man from Cyrene, Simon, the father of Alexander and Rufus, was passing by on his way in from the country, and they forced him to carry the cross. 22 They brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means The Place of the Skull). 23 Then they offered him wine mixed with myrrh, but he did not take it. 24 And they crucified him. Dividing up his clothes, they cast lots to see what each would get. 25 It was the third hour when they crucified him. 26 The written notice of the charge against him read: THE KING OF THE JEWS. Simon, the man who was forced to carry Jesus’ cross, was from Cyrene in Libya, north Africa. It’s possible he had come on pilgrimage for the Passover festival and was staying in the countryside just outside Jerusalem. It’s equally likely that, although he had originally come from Cyrene, he was now permanently living near Jerusalem, as Acts 6:9 seems to indicate that there was in Jerusalem a so-called Synagogue of Freedmen some of whom were men from Cyrene. The fact is, we simply do not know. Neither do we know who his sons, Alexander and Rufus were, although it’s possible that Rufus is referred to in Romans 16. The fact that Mark refers to them both by name does seem to suggest that they were known to the early Christian community for whom Mark was writing. We can’t help wondering whether they had become Christians as a result of their father’s unexpected encounter with Jesus. What we do know is that Simon was passing by on his way in from the country, and they forced him to carry the cross. It was one of those occasions when something totally unexpected occurs in our lives. At first sight it might seem like sheer coincidence. He just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or was it the right place at the right time? The Saviour of the world is on his way to be crucified. It’s the most important event in history. Is God in Heaven going to allow anything to happen by accident? Surely not. And if not, there was a divine purpose in Simon’s encounter with Jesus. He follows Jesus, carrying his cross all the way to Calvary. It’s hard to imagine that he did not remain to witness the events of the crucifixion and, having done so, to continue to follow him for the rest of his life. We’re reminded that we’re all called to take up our cross and follow Jesus. But let’s pause for a moment and think about unexpected things that may happen in our lives or the lives of people we know who are not yet Christians. Of course, we all love to see miracles of healing that come unexpectedly and are positively life transforming. But what about events that seem negative, rather than positive, like being forced to carry someone else’s cross? Has it ever occurred to you that God might have a purpose in allowing these things to happen? One Sunday morning in June 2016 I was preaching in Ireland on that passage in Matthew 8 where Jesus calms the storm. I remember saying that storms may arise in our lives, even during the coming week, but that Jesus would bring us safely through them. Little did I know that two days later my wife would suffer a massive stroke that was to leave her confined to a wheelchair for the next eight years. And little did I know on 28th February this year that within less than 24 hours she would be in Heaven. Both were totally unexpected and life-changing events for both of us, but God brought us through, and Eileen has now safely arrived on the other side. Even when unexpected events seem totally negative, God can bring a positive outcome, even if we can’t see it at the time. And he can bring about unexpected events in the lives of those who don’t yet know him that will draw them to himself. But back to our passage. They bring Jesus to the place of execution, and they offer him wine mixed with myrrh. This was an act of mercy to condemned criminals usually provided by the women of Jerusalem, but here passed on to Jesus by the soldiers. But Jesus does not accept it. He wants to remain in full possession of his faculties. No anaesthetic can ease the pain of the suffering he is about to endure. He is to bear the full agony of crucifixion, the full penalty for all our sins. And so they crucify him. The Gospel writers spare us the physical details, perhaps because they were all too familiar to their readers, but also because Jesus’ suffering was far more than physical, and far more than the psychological torture he endured at the hands of those who humiliated him. His greatest agony was separation from his Father as the spotless Lamb of God bore the sins of the whole world. Most of the accusations brought against him were false, but he was finally condemned to death for telling the truth, for admitting who he really was, the Christ, the Son of God, the king of the Jews. But it mattered little to the Roman soldiers. They were too busy gambling for his clothes. But now verses 27-32. 27 They crucified two robbers with him, one on his right and one on his left. 29 Those who passed by hurled insults at him, shaking their heads and saying, "So! You who are going to destroy the temple and build it in three days, 30 come down from the cross and save yourself!" 31 In the same way the chief priests and the teachers of the law mocked him among themselves. "He saved others," they said, "but he can't save himself! 32 Let this Christ, this King of Israel, come down now from the cross, that we may see and believe." Those crucified with him also heaped insults on him. Mark doesn’t say much about the two robbers crucified each side of Jesus. It’s Luke who tells us how one of them joined in with the mocking of the crowd and the soldiers, but is rebuked by the other one who says, Don't you fear God, since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong. And then says, Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom. This man could certainly not have understood the fully developed doctrine of salvation initiated by Jesus and later taught by the first apostles, but somehow he grasped enough to acknowledge that he was guilty, that he deserved his punishment, that Jesus was innocent and was indeed a king for whom death would not be the end but would lead to a kingdom in which somehow he, a robber, hoped to be remembered. He could hardly ask for more, but Jesus grants him far more than he asks for: I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise (Luke 23:43). That was what Jesus was dying for – the salvation of sinners, sinners like this robber, even sinners like Barabbas whose place on that cross Jesus had taken, and sinners like you and me. But back to our passage in Mark. We saw in verses 16-20 how the soldiers humiliated, mocked and abused Jesus. Now in verses 29-32 we see the mockery continuing, this time not just by those who passed by but by the chief priests and teachers of the law as well. Looking at the passage as a whole, we see that Jesus was mocked by the soldiers who crucified him, the unrepentant thief on the cross beside him, those who were passing by without even stopping to think, the chief priests and teachers of the law, and, as we see in the next section, the man who offered Jesus wine vinegar to drink. Verses 33-34. 33 At the sixth hour darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour. This darkness lasted from 12 noon until 3 o’clock in the afternoon. It can’t have been a normal eclipse of the sun, as Passover was celebrated at the time of the full moon when the moon would have been in the wrong part of the sky. This darkness was a supernatural event initiated by God himself. All attempts at astronomical explanation of such events, including incidentally the star followed by the Magi in Matthew 2, are totally futile. When God works a miracle there is no natural explanation. If there were, it would not be a miracle! But what was the purpose of this darkness? It’s mentioned in Matthew and Luke as well as Mark, but none of them tell us its purpose, so we need to tread carefully here. We’re on holy ground. But perhaps we can find an answer in the events that are closely connected with it in the Gospel records – Jesus’ cry, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?, the tearing of the temple curtain from the top to the bottom, the earthquake that accompanied it, the constant demands of the Jews for a sign from Heaven, the final cry of Jesus, It is finished, and the cry of the centurion, Surely this man was the Son of God. Combined with these events we can surely interpret the darkness as a sign of God’s anger at human sin, and at the rejection of his Son by the Jewish leaders. It was a sign that this crucifixion was no ordinary crucifixion. It was a sign that temple worship was now terminated. It was the sign that the Jewish leaders had constantly demanded but still would not accept. It was a sign of God’s vindication of all that Jesus had claimed to be. It was a sign, for all who, like the centurion, would receive it, that Jesus was indeed the Son of God. 34 And at the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, "Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani?" – which means, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" From before time began, back in eternity, Jesus, the Son of God, had enjoyed intimate fellowship with his Father. But now, as Jesus carries our sin, God who is holy and cannot look on sin (Habakkuk 1:13), turns his face away. This for Jesus was the greatest agony of the cross. But his cry must not be seen as a cry of despair. Jesus was well aware that he was quoting Psalm 22 which in so many ways was prophetic of the crucifixion, but which concludes in glorious triumph, for all the ends of the earth will turn to the Lord and all the families of the nations will bow down before him. It was for the joy that was set before him that he endured the cross (Hebrews 12:2). Verses 35-39 complete the story. 35 When some of those standing near heard this, they said, "Listen, he's calling Elijah." 36 One man ran, filled a sponge with wine vinegar, put it on a stick, and offered it to Jesus to drink. "Now leave him alone. Let's see if Elijah comes to take him down," he said. 37 With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last. 38 The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. 39 And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, heard his cry and saw how he died, he said, "Surely this man was the Son of God!" Jesus’ cry had been in Aramaic, but some mistakenly thought he was calling for Elijah. The mocking continues right to the end - Let's see if Elijah comes to take him down. John 19:28-30 supplies some information not given in the Synoptic Gospels. Jesus says, I am thirsty and in response he is offered wine vinegar to drink, which he accepts and then cries, It is finished. This is undoubtedly the loud cry referred to in Mark 15:37. Jesus had refused the wine offered to him earlier, but now the work of atonement was complete. He accepts the drink to clear his voice for one last final cry. It is finished. There was so much that was finished at that moment, not just his earthly life and suffering, but the reason for that suffering was now accomplished, the work of atonement, the bearing of our sin, the means of entry into the presence of a holy God as the veil of the temple is split in two from the top to the bottom. No longer the need for the animal sacrifices demanded by the Law, no longer a temple made with human hands… Jesus has done it all – and he did it for me! The Roman centurion could not possibly have understood all that, but he understood enough to know that Jesus really was the Son of God. Perhaps he came to understand later, not only that Jesus was the Soon of God, but that he was, in the words of Paul, The Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me. Charles Wesley certainly understood it when he wrote: It's finished, the Messiah dies, cut off for sins, but not his own. Accomplished is the sacrifice, the great redeeming work is done. It’s finished, all the debt is paid, justice divine is satisfied, The grand and full atonement made; God for guilty world has died. The veil is rent in Christ alone, the living way to heaven is seen, The middle wall is broken down and all mankind my enter in. The types and figures are fulfilled; exacted is the legal pain. The precious promises are sealed, the spotless Lamb of God is slain. The reign of sin and death is o’er, and all may live from since set free. Satan has lost his mortal power. It’s swallowed up in victory! Saved from the legal curse I am. My saviour hangs on yonder tree. See there the meek expiring Lamb. It’s finished, he expires for me. Accepted in the well beloved and clothed in righteousness divine I see the bar to heaven removed, and all thy merits, Lord, are mine. Death, hell, and sin are now subdued. All grace is now to sinners given. And lo, I plead the atoning blood, and in thy right I claim thy heaven. God bless you.
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284 Mark 15:1-15 The Trial before Pilate
10/14/2024
284 Mark 15:1-15 The Trial before Pilate
Talk 45 Mark 15:1-15 The Trial before Pilate Welcome to Talk 45 in our series on Mark’s Gospel. Today we’re looking at Mark 15:1-15 where Jesus is on trial before Pilate. We’ll begin by reading the whole passage. 1 Very early in the morning, the chief priests, with the elders, the teachers of the law and the whole Sanhedrin, reached a decision. They bound Jesus, led him away and handed him over to Pilate. 2 "Are you the king of the Jews?" asked Pilate. "Yes, it is as you say," Jesus replied. 3 The chief priests accused him of many things. 4 So again Pilate asked him, "Aren't you going to answer? See how many things they are accusing you of." 5 But Jesus still made no reply, and Pilate was amazed. 6 Now it was the custom at the Feast to release a prisoner whom the people requested. 7 A man called Barabbas was in prison with the insurrectionists who had committed murder in the uprising. 8 The crowd came up and asked Pilate to do for them what he usually did. 9 "Do you want me to release to you the king of the Jews?" asked Pilate, 10 knowing it was out of envy that the chief priests had handed Jesus over to him. 11 But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have Pilate release Barabbas instead. 12 "What shall I do, then, with the one you call the king of the Jews?" Pilate asked them. 13 "Crucify him!" they shouted. 14 "Why? What crime has he committed?" asked Pilate. But they shouted all the louder, "Crucify him!" 15 Wanting to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas to them. He had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified. Mark’s account of this trial is much shorter than the accounts in the other Gospels, but this passage reveals very clearly three things: 1. The continued determination of the Jewish leaders to have Jesus crucified 2. The total commitment of Jesus to the way of the cross 3. The complete moral failure of Pilate to do what was right. The continued determination of the Jewish leaders to have Jesus crucified This goes back as far as Mark 3:6 where they began to plot how they might kill Jesus for healing on the Sabbath day. Eventually, as we saw last time, after a mock trial before Caiaphas, they condemned him as worthy of death (14:64). So now they reach a decision. They have no power themselves to put him to death. So they hand him over to Pilate the Roman governor. They demand that Jesus be crucified. But why crucifixion? The usual method of execution among the Jews was stoning (e.g. Achan in Joshua 7:25 and Stephen in Acts 7:58). Crucifixion was the Roman death penalty for rebellion. It was reserved for foreigners and slaves. Roman citizens were executed by the more merciful means of decapitation. So why did the Jews ask for Jesus to be crucified? Probably because, although crucifixion was not a Jewish practice, the bodies of those who were stoned to death were sometimes hung on a tree until the evening as a public sign that they were under God’s curse (Deuteronomy 21:23). Paul refers to this in Galatians 3:13 when he says that Jesus was made a curse for us when he died on the cross. It seems likely, then, that the Jewish leaders wanted the people to believe that Jesus was not the Messiah some of them thought he was, but that he was really under God’s curse. Another possibility, of course, is that they did it out of sheer spite because they envied him (v10) and hated him so much. But, whatever their motivation, to achieve their end Mark simply tells us that they accused him of many things (v3). Luke 23, however, gives us a bit more detail: …they began to accuse him, saying, "We have found this man subverting our nation. He opposes payment of taxes to Caesar and claims to be Christ, a king." 3 So Pilate asked Jesus, "Are you the king of the Jews?" "Yes, it is as you say," Jesus replied. 4 Then Pilate announced to the chief priests and the crowd, "I find no basis for a charge against this man." 5 But they insisted, "He stirs up the people all over Judea by his teaching. He started in Galilee and has come all the way here." So the charges were: · Opposing payment of taxes to Caesar · Claiming to be Christ, a king · Stirring up the people or inciting people to rebellion – v14. Only one of these accusations had any basis in fact. Jesus did claim to be – indeed he was – the Christ, the Messiah, and he certainly was a king. But, as he told Pilate in John 18:36 his kingdom was not of this world… my kingdom is from another place. Jesus had never incited people to rebellion, quite the opposite. And he had never opposed payment of taxes to Caesar. In fact, he had encouraged it. And the only way he had stirred up the people was to love their enemies. And far from inciting people to rebellion, he taught them to do good to those who persecuted them. In fact, if anyone was guilty of stirring up the people, it was the chief priests. When Pilate wanted to release Jesus, they stirred up the crowd (v11) to demand that Jesus be crucified, and Pilate, fearing a riot, hands Jesus over to be crucified. The total commitment of Jesus to the way of the cross We saw last time when we considered Jesus’ trial before Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin that Jesus didn’t defend himself, that he refused to answer the charges brought against him, and that only when put under oath did he confess the truth as to who he really was. He knew it would lead to his death, even death on a cross, but he knew that the shedding of his blood was the only way to atone for our sins. And that, of course, was his motivation when he conducted himself in much the same way when on trial before Pilate. There’s a distinct feeling of déjà vu here. Once again Jesus refuses to answer the accusations the Jews are bringing against him and Pilate asks him: Aren't you going to answer? See how many things they are accusing you of (v4). But Jesus still makes no reply (v5). Again, he refuses to respond to their false accusations, but he will speak about who he is. When Pilate asks, Are you the king of the Jews? Jesus answers, Yes, it is as you say (v2). But John gives us a fuller picture. When Pilate asks the same question (18:34), Jesus replies: 36 My kingdom is not of this world. If it were, my servants would fight to prevent my arrest by the Jews. But now my kingdom is from another place. 37… You are right in saying I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me. To which Pilate replies, What is truth? but doesn’t wait for an answer. Little did he know that the personification of truth was standing right in front of him! And in John 19:9, when Pilate asks Jesus, Where do you come from?, Jesus remains silent, so Pilate retorts: Do you refuse to speak to me? Don't you realize I have power either to free you or to crucify you? (v10), to which Jesus replies: You would have no power over me if it were not given to you from above... (v11). No human authority could destroy the Prince of Life. They were able to crucify him only because God himself allowed them to. And knowing that this was his Father’s will, and the only means of our salvation, Jesus deliberately invites the death sentence by refusing to defend himself and by acknowledging who he is – the king, who had come into the world to bear witness to the truth, to whom everyone who is on the side of truth will listen. But, sadly, that was not something that Pilate was willing to do. The complete moral failure of Pilate to do what was right Mark’s account is, as usual, briefer than those in the other Gospels. Mark’s summary of Pilate’s failure is twofold: 1. he knows that the chief priests have handed Jesus over to him out of envy (v10) 2. it’s because he wants to satisfy the crowd that he has Jesus flogged and hands him over to be crucified (v15). In other words, he knows that the accusations brought against Jesus are wrongly motivated, and, despite that, because he himself is wrongly motivated, he condemns Jesus to death. But in Luke and John, Pilate’s guilt is compounded by the fact that Pilate knows that Jesus is innocent. In both these Gospels Pilate proclaims Jesus’ innocence three times. Look at Luke 23. In verse 4 we read: Then Pilate announced to the chief priests and the crowd, "I find no basis for a charge against this man." In verse 15 we read: he has done nothing to deserve death. And in verse 22: For the third time he spoke to them: "Why? What crime has this man committed? I have found in him no grounds for the death penalty. Now look at John 18 and 19 In 18:38 I find no basis for a charge against him. In 19:4 he says again: I find no basis for a charge against him. And in 19:6 he says it again: As for me, I find no basis for a charge against him. So there can be no doubt about it. Pilate knew that Jesus was innocent. His wife had even sent him a message: Don't have anything to do with that innocent man, for I have suffered a great deal today in a dream because of him (Matthew 27:19). And yet, despite the fact that he knows Jesus is innocent, he has him flogged and hands him over to be crucified. But that is not all. Another aspect of Pilate’s failure is his refusal to accept responsibility. As the Roman governor he enjoyed a privileged position. But privilege carries with it responsibility. It was Pilate’s responsibility to judge fairly in these matters, but throughout the whole story we see him trying to pass the buck. First, we see him trying to pass the matter back to Sanhedrin. In John 18:31 he says: Take him yourselves and judge him by your own law. But they object saying: But we have no right to execute anyone. Next, he attempts to get King Herod, who was in Jerusalem at the time, to deal with the case (Luke 18:6-12). Herod agrees that Jesus has done nothing to deserve death, but the Jews are insistent that Jesus be crucified. Then Pilate tries to pass the responsibility over to the crowd, by offering according to the custom at the Passover to release to them a prisoner of their choosing, but they choose Barabbas rather than Jesus – as might have been obvious to Pilate bearing in mind the hostility of the crowd to Jesus (Matthew 27:15-21). And finally, having exhausted all options, he takes water and washes his hands in front of the crowd, saying, I am innocent of this man’s blood. It is your responsibility (Matthew 27:24). So who was responsible for the death of Jesus? Was it Judas who betrayed him, or Peter who denied him, or all the disciples who deserted him, or Caiaphas and the Sanhedrin, or Herod or Pilate, or the Roman soldiers who crucified him? Surely the answer is ALL OF THE ABOVE. They must all bear some measure of guilt. But ultimately the judgment lies with God alone. But are they the only guilty ones? Or are we ourselves also to blame? Jesus’ death was necessary to atone for our sins as well as theirs. Let’s not, like Pilate, refuse to take responsibility for our actions. Let’s not pretend we are innocent, when we know we are not. Let us rather acknowledge our weaknesses, our failings, our faithlessness, our shortcomings, our sin. Forgiveness was available to all those responsible for the death of Jesus if only they would admit their guilt and believe in him. Some, like Peter and the disciples who forsook Jesus, did just that. The others, as far as we know, did not. Let’s not make the same mistake. God’s promise in 1 John 1:9 still holds good: If we confess our sin, he is faithful and just, and will forgive us our sin and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. Prayer.
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283 Mark 14:53-72 Jesus' trial and Peter's denial
09/27/2024
283 Mark 14:53-72 Jesus' trial and Peter's denial
Talk 44 Mark 14:53-72 Jesus’ trial and Peter’s denial Welcome to Talk 44 in our series of Mark’s Gospel. Today we’re looking at chapter 14, verses 53-72. This passage recounts the trial of Jesus before the Sanhedrin and Peter’s denial of Jesus in the courtyard of the high priest’s house where the trial was taking place. The key figures in the passage are: · The members of the Sanhedrin who wanted Jesus dead · Jesus himself who knew that his death was necessary for our salvation · Peter who denied Jesus even though he had protested that he would never do so. We’ll begin by reading verses 53-65 where we see the outrageous injustice of the trial and Jesus’ refusal to defend himself. 53 They took Jesus to the high priest, and all the chief priests, elders and teachers of the law came together. 54 Peter followed him at a distance, right into the courtyard of the high priest. There he sat with the guards and warmed himself at the fire. 55 The chief priests and the whole Sanhedrin were looking for evidence against Jesus so that they could put him to death, but they did not find any. 56 Many testified falsely against him, but their statements did not agree. 57 Then some stood up and gave this false testimony against him: 58 "We heard him say, 'I will destroy this man-made temple and in three days will build another, not made by man.'" 59 Yet even then their testimony did not agree. 60 Then the high priest stood up before them and asked Jesus, "Are you not going to answer? What is this testimony that these men are bringing against you?" 61 But Jesus remained silent and gave no answer. Again the high priest asked him, "Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?" 62 "I am," said Jesus. "And you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven." 63 The high priest tore his clothes. "Why do we need any more witnesses?" he asked. 64 "You have heard the blasphemy. What do you think?" They all condemned him as worthy of death. 65 Then some began to spit at him; they blindfolded him, struck him with their fists, and said, "Prophesy!" And the guards took him and beat him. 53 They took Jesus to the high priest, and all the chief priests, elders and teachers of the law came together. The word for high priest in Greek is archiereus. It’s unclear why NIV sometimes translates this as chief priest. Perhaps it’s because, although Caiaphas was the high priest, Annas his father-in-law, who had been high priest until he was deposed by the Romans, was also present. So by all the chief priests Mark means all two of them! 54 Peter followed him at a distance, right into the courtyard of the high priest. There he sat with the guards and warmed himself at the fire. We’ll deal with this verse when we come to Peter’s denial at the end of the chapter. 55 The chief priests and the whole Sanhedrin were looking for evidence against Jesus so that they could put him to death, but they did not find any. The Sanhedrin was a council comprised of 71 men, including both Pharisees and Sadducees, who were supposed to be the spiritual leaders of the nation. The vast majority of them had opposed Jesus throughout his ministry because of: his forthright condemnation of their hypocrisy his interpretation of the Old Testament which was radically different from theirs his recent actions in ‘cleansing’ the temple – see Talk 34 his claims to be the Messiah. If Jesus proved to be the kind of Messiah the people were expecting, they feared that this could lead to a revolt against Roman authority. This seems to have been the justification they were looking for in seeking to kill Jesus. In John 11:50 Caiaphas had stated that it was better for one man to die than that the whole nation perish. It’s more likely, however, that their true motivation was the fear of losing their privileged position in society. 56 Many testified falsely against him, but their statements did not agree. 57 Then some stood up and gave this false testimony against him: 58 "We heard him say, 'I will destroy this man-made temple and in three days will build another, not made by man.'" 59 Yet even then their testimony did not agree. These verses underline the total injustice of the whole trial. Mark emphasises that their testimony was false. This is emphasised by the fact that even then their testimony did not agree. Part of the role of the Sanhedrin was to uphold the Law of Moses. As we’ve seen in previous talks, they were insistent on obedience to petty regulations but ignored the more important matters of the Law – justice, mercy and faithfulness. Jesus had accused them of straining out gnats but swallowing camels (Matthew 23:23-24)! Now these religious leaders reveal the full extent of their hypocrisy. To achieve their ends, they wilfully ignore justice and break God’s clear commandment, You shall not give false testimony against your neighbour (Exodus 20:16). Of course there was an element of truth in the testimony of those who reported what Jesus had said about destroying the temple. Who will believe what a liar says if all that he says in untrue? A successful liar is one who includes in his testimony things which are true, but nevertheless distorts the truth in some way. No doubt that’s why in our lawcourts today a witness must promise to say the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Notice the difference between what Jesus actually said in John 2:19 and what these false witnesses reported him as saying: · Jesus had not said I will destroy… He said Destroy… · He had had not said I will destroy this man-made temple. He said Destroy this temple. · He had not said I will build another, not made by man. He said I will raise it again. John goes on to explain that Jesus was talking about the temple of his body. To say the least, the accusation levelled against Jesus was inaccurate, whether deliberately so or not. The witnesses against him were unreliable, their testimony a distortion of what he actually said. 60 Then the high priest stood up before them and asked Jesus, "Are you not going to answer? What is this testimony that these men are bringing against you?" 61 But Jesus remained silent and gave no answer. Again the high priest asked him, "Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?" At first Jesus will not dignify their false accusations and questions with an answer. He did the same when later interrogated by Pilate (John19:8-11). Perhaps he had in mind the prophecy of Isaiah: He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; He was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth (Isaiah 53:7). But perhaps he remained silent because he knew that there was no point in defending himself. He had already committed himself to the way of the cross and his death was now inevitable. He replies only when charged under oath in the name of the living God to reveal his identity (Matthew 26:63). And his reply is just what the high priest is hoping for. 62 "I am," said Jesus. "And you will see the Son of Man sitting at the right hand of the Mighty One and coming on the clouds of heaven." In the Greek text, the words for I am are ego eimi. In John’s Gospel Jesus’ frequent use of these two words are undoubtedly a declaration of his deity. See, for example, John 8:58 where Jesus declares, I tell you the truth… before Abraham was, I AM. It’s possibly Mark’s intention in including it here, but if not, what Jesus says next is enough to incur the charge of blasphemy. Jesus came to bear witness to the truth, and that included the truth about himself. He was none other than the great I AM. And that truth would ultimately be vindicated. Those who accused him of blasphemy now would one day see him seated at God’s right hand. 63 The high priest tore his clothes. "Why do we need any more witnesses?" he asked. 64 "You have heard the blasphemy. What do you think?" They all condemned him as worthy of death. Caiaphas is delighted. He now has all the proof he needs. Jesus has condemned himself out of his own mouth. There’s no more need for witnesses. Jesus deserves to die. But under the Roman occupation, the Jews couldn’t put anyone to death. For that they would need Pilate’s authority. But not before they have taken the opportunity to ridicule and mistreat the prisoner. 65 Then some began to spit at him; they blindfolded him, struck him with their fists, and said, "Prophesy!" And the guards took him and beat him. Matthew 26:68 gives us a slightly fuller version of this – Prophesy, Christ, who hit you. In other words, Surely if you are the Christ, the Messiah, you can tell us by prophetic revelation who hit you. But Jesus remains silent. The spitting, the punching and the beating are only the beginning of the unjust treatment that Jesus is to receive over the next 24 hours. From what we have seen so far, it’s clear that the whole trial was rigged from the start. Jesus’ accusers were not interested in finding out the truth. They were looking for an excuse to get rid of him. They couldn’t find any real evidence that would condemn him, so they invented it! The witnesses were all biased. They were clearly prepared to say anything they thought would achieve their purpose. They distorted what Jesus had said and made it mean something quite different. Finally, they mistreated Jesus before taking him to Pilate to demand the death sentence. And we need to remember that Jesus warned his disciples that they would be treated unfairly too. There’s plenty of evidence of this in the Book of Acts. An example that comes to mind is Stephen, the first Christian to die for his faith. When his hearers couldn’t stand up against his wisdom and the Spirit by whom he spoke… they secretly persuaded some men to say that they had heard him speak words of blasphemy (Acts 6:10-11). And most of the early disciples were martyred for their faith. And, as I’m sure most of my listeners will know, there are many parts of the world where even today Christians are being unjustly treated, persecuted, and tortured for their faith. But even in countries where this is not happening, many of the opponents of Christianity are guilty of the same hypocrisy as Jesus’ accusers were at his trial. They’re not really interested in finding out the truth. They’re looking for excuses to disbelieve his message because they are not prepared to accept its implication for their lifestyle. If they really wanted to know the truth, they would find it. But, of course, we Christians are not always innocent when it comes to hypocrisy. Fear of the opposition can cause us to deny what we truly believe, as we see as we now read the rest of today’s passage: 54 Peter followed Jesus at a distance, right into the courtyard of the high priest. There he sat with the guards and warmed himself at the fire. 66 While Peter was below in the courtyard, one of the servant girls of the high priest came by. 67 When she saw Peter warming himself, she looked closely at him. "You also were with that Nazarene, Jesus," she said. 68 But he denied it. "I don't know or understand what you're talking about," he said, and went out into the entrance, and the cock crowed. 69 When the servant girl saw him there, she said again to those standing around, "This fellow is one of them." 70 Again he denied it. After a little while, those standing near said to Peter, "Surely you are one of them, for you are a Galilean." 71 He began to call down curses on himself, and he swore to them, "I don't know this man you're talking about." 72 Immediately the cock crowed the second time. Then Peter remembered the word Jesus had spoken to him: "Before the cock crows twice you will disown me three times." And he broke down and wept. This passage speaks for itself. But let’s just remind ourselves of what happened earlier in the chapter. In verse 27 Jesus had told his disciples, You will all fall away. But in verse 29 Peter declared. Even if all fall away, I will not. But Jesus answered, I tell you the truth… Today – yes, tonight – before the cock crows twice you yourself will disown me three times. But Peter insisted emphatically, Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you. He declared his loyalty. He insisted on it emphatically. But now, in the courtyard of the high priest, he declares his disloyalty to Jesus even more emphatically. He calls down curses on himself and swears, I don't know this man you're talking about. And in doing so he fulfils the prophecy of Jesus and disowns him three times. The cock crows, and Peter remembers and breaks down in tears. But, of course, we know that that’s not the end of the story. At the very end of John’s Gospel, we read how, after his death and resurrection, Jesus gives Peter the chance three times to reaffirm his love and loyalty and reassures him that he will yet have the opportunity to lay down his life for him. And that turns our attention away from Peter and onto Jesus himself, for in Peter’s disloyal actions we see the reason for Jesus’ actions during the trial. It was for Peter, and for people like him, for you and for me, that Jesus doesn’t defend himself, that he refuses to answer the charges brought against him, that when put under oath he confesses the truth as to who he really is. He knows it will lead to his death, but he knows that the shedding of his blood is the only way to atone for all the sins, all the failings, all the disloyalty of all the ‘Peters’, throughout all the world, for all time. So he remains loyal to his Father’s will, and his loyalty unto death atones for our disloyalty. His obedience atones for our disobedience. And that’s why, in Peter’s own words, even though we have not seen him, we love him (1 Peter 1:8). It’s because he suffered for us that we are willing to follow in his steps (1 Peter 2:21), remembering that, after we have suffered a little while, God has called us to his eternal glory in Christ (1 Peter 5:10). Lord Jesus, we do love you, even though we haven’t seen you. Because you suffered for us, we are willing to follow in your steps and, if need be, to suffer for you. And we thank you that you have called us to your eternal glory. Amen.
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282 Mark 14:27-52 The Garden of Gethsemane
09/20/2024
282 Mark 14:27-52 The Garden of Gethsemane
Talk 43 Mark 14:27-52 The Garden of Gethsemane Welcome to Talk 43 in our series on Mark's gospel. Today we're looking at Mark 14:27-52. This is a long passage and so to save time we will not read through it in advance. In verses 27-31 Jesus predicts that Peter will deny him. In verses 32-42 we read of Jesus’ agonised prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane and of his disciples’ failure to support him in his time of need. And in verses 43-52 we read how Judas betrays him and how Jesus is arrested. The overall theme of the passage is the contrast between the commitment of Jesus to do his Father's will whatever the consequences and his disciples’ weakness and failures. Jesus predicts Peter’s denial 27-31 27. "You will all fall away," Jesus told them, "for it is written: "'I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.' 28 But after I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee." 29 Peter declared, "Even if all fall away, I will not." 30 "I tell you the truth," Jesus answered, "today – yes, tonight – before the cock crows twice you yourself will disown me three times." 31 But Peter insisted emphatically, "Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you." And all the others said the same. Jesus has just eaten the Passover meal with his disciples, at the end of which verse 26 tells us that, When they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. On their way there, Jesus predicts, not only that Peter will deny him, but that all his disciples will fall away. How does Jesus know this? We saw last time that Jesus knew in advance much of what was about to happen. And this knowledge sprang from his intimate communion with his heavenly Father. Much of that knowledge came from the understanding that certain verses of the Old Testament applied to him directly. God often speaks to us through scripture, but sometimes he speaks directly to us without reference to scripture. Perhaps, as Jesus studied the Old Testament, God quickened certain scriptures to him and Jesus knew that those words applied to him. The quote in verse 27 is from Zechariah 13:7. Jesus saw his disciples as a little flock of which he was the shepherd. He knows that his arrest and imminent crucifixion would shake their faith, and so he warns them in advance, but offers them hope by reminding them that he will rise from the dead and will see them again in Galilee. But Peter, always the one to speak up too hastily, protests: Even if all fall away, I will not. No doubt his protest was sincere, but it was seriously mistaken. Firstly, it was a contradiction in terms. The word all implies there are no exceptions. If all will fall away, then Peter will fall away. But more seriously, it was a contradiction of the prophetic scripture and a contradiction of the Lord Jesus himself. But, as we have seen on other occasions, Peter was not afraid to contradict Jesus, if he didn’t like what Jesus was saying. We need to beware of not taking seriously what God has said to us and of making rash promises to God. Our commitment to him should be thought through and weighed carefully. Jesus’ reply is not based on a word of scripture, but on direct revelation from God himself. It’s a very specific prophecy which is fulfilled to the letter later in the chapter, even though at this stage Peter refuses to believe it. But before we criticise Peter too severely, we need to remember that all the others said the same (v31). They may not have denied Jesus as Peter did, but they all failed to support Jesus in the hour of his greatest need, falling asleep instead of praying as Jesus had asked them to (vv.37, 44; Luke 22:46). The Garden of Gethsemane 32-42 32. They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, "Sit here while I pray." 33 He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. 34 "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death," he said to them. "Stay here and keep watch." 35 Going a little farther, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour might pass from him. 36 "Abba, Father," he said, "everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will." 37 Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. "Simon," he said to Peter, "are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour? 38 Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak." 39 Once more he went away and prayed the same thing. 40 When he came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy. They did not know what to say to him. 41 Returning the third time, he said to them, "Are you still sleeping and resting? Enough! The hour has come. Look, the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. 42 Rise! Let us go! Here comes my betrayer!" In this passage we see a contrast between the failure of all the disciples and the commitment of Jesus to do his Father’s will whatever the cost. The failure of all the disciples If we compare it with the parallel passages in Matthew 26 and Luke 22, the sequence of events seems to have been as follows: Jesus leads his disciples to the Garden of Gethsemane on the slopes of the Mount of Olives. He tells them all that he is going to spend some time in prayer and that they must pray that they will not fall into temptation. He then takes Peter, James and John with him and, becoming deeply distressed and troubled, he shares his grief with them, saying, My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death and tells them to pray and keep watch, but they all completely fail to do so. Jesus returns to them no less than three times, and on each occasion finds them all sleeping. They have failed to give him support in his most urgent time of need. And it’s going to get worse before it gets better! Judas is coming to betray him. And Jesus’ prophecy that they will all fall away (v27) is about to be fulfilled. They will all desert him and flee (v50). But before we attempt to account for such a failure, and then finish by considering Jesus’ commitment to his Father’s will, let’s just read the rest of today’s passage to remind ourselves of what happens when Jesus is arrested. 43 Just as he was speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve appeared. With him was a crowd armed with swords and clubs, sent from the chief priests, the teachers of the law, and the elders. 44 Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them: "The one I kiss is the man; arrest him and lead him away under guard." 45 Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, "Rabbi!" and kissed him. 46 The men seized Jesus and arrested him. 47 Then one of those standing near drew his sword and struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear. 48 "Am I leading a rebellion," said Jesus, "that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me? 49 Every day I was with you, teaching in the temple courts, and you did not arrest me. But the Scriptures must be fulfilled." 50 Then everyone deserted him and fled. 51 A young man, wearing nothing but a linen garment, was following Jesus. When they seized him, 52 he fled naked, leaving his garment behind. I think this passage pretty much speaks for itself, but let’s just add in a few extra details that we find in the other Gospels. John 18:10 tells us that it was Peter who cut off the servant’s ear, and Luke 22:57 tells how Jesus healed it. And Matthew 52-54 records that Jesus said: Put your sword back in its place, …for all who draw the sword will die by the sword. Do you think I cannot call on my Father, and he will at once put at my disposal more than twelve legions of angels? But how then would the Scriptures be fulfilled that say it must happen in this way?" In fairness to Peter, perhaps he was trying to make up for his failure to stay awake and keep watch. Or was he acting out of fear? We’re not told, but at all events it was a foolish thing to do in the light of the fact that Judas was accompanied by a whole crowd of people armed with swords and clubs. Jesus responds to Peter’s aggressive action by replacing the man’s ear, thus reminding Peter both of his supernatural power and of the heart of his message – Jesus had not come to destroy life, but to save it. He points out to Peter three things: 1. The danger of relying on human resources 2. The power and resources of God at Jesus’ disposal 3. The fact that the Scriptures must be fulfilled. Jesus’ words and actions were determined by his knowledge of God’s redemptive plan for the salvation of mankind. He had pleaded with God that, if it were possible, he might be released from the way of the cross. But he knew that the Scriptures must be fulfilled. His kingdom was not to be achieved by military violence and force, but by love and sacrifice and suffering. He was not leading a rebellion (v48). He had come to save – even those who had come to arrest him. So the disciples, exemplified by Peter, got it wrong again and again. But how do we account for their failure? Jesus gives us the answer in verse 38 – the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. The Greek word for flesh here is sarx. This is sometimes used in the New Testament simply to refer to our body, but it can also refer to our fallen nature and moral weakness. In Galatians 5, for example, the deeds of the flesh are contrasted with the fruit of the Spirit. Here, in Mark 14, it probably refers to both. The disciples’ sleepiness was due to the weakness of their bodies, but there is also an indication of a failure in character. There is a gentle reproach in verse 37 when Jesus says, Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour? Of course, we’ve all been there! Despite our best intentions we have failed to do what we know we ought to do. Paul deals with this at the end of Romans 7 and concludes that the key to victory is through Jesus Christ our Lord (v25). In our own strength we will fail, but through Christ, the Holy Spirit has set us free from the tendency to sin (Romans 8:2). If we walk in the Spirit we will not fulfil the desires of the flesh (Galatians 5:16). But the disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane had not yet received the Holy Spirit. That was to happen after Jesus had died, risen again, and sent the Spirit. After they had experienced the resurrection and been filled with the Spirit at Pentecost, they were changed men. They were not perfect, but they had received a power by which they could live in victory as long as they followed the leading of the Spirit. And rather than deserting Jesus, they now counted suffering for the sake of Jesus a privilege and rejoiced that they had been allowed to do so (Acts 5:41). And all this became possible for them, and also for us, because of Jesus’ commitment to do his Father’s will in the Garden of Gethsemane. The commitment of Jesus to do his Father’s will Mark tells us that Jesus was deeply distressed and troubled. He was overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. And so he asks his disciples to pray and then moves away from them to be in solitude with God. He prays that, if it’s possible, the hour might pass from him. Of course he doesn’t want to die. No one would choose to be crucified. He knew that, if he asked him to, God would give him more than twelve legions of angels to deliver him (Matthew 26:53). Make no mistake about it. Jesus had a choice. He did not have to drink the cup of God’s wrath. Even at that late hour, everything was possible with God. There was a way to escape the cross. But at what cost? The salvation of his disciples was in his hands. Your salvation and mine. Jesus sees in the weakness and failings of his own disciples my weakness and failings too. He finds them sleeping instead of praying. He knows that Peter will deny him. He knows that they will all desert him. And he knows that his destiny is to be the Lamb that must be sacrificed to atone for the sins of the whole world. This he had agreed with his Father from before time began. And so, out of commitment to his Father’s will, out of commitment to God’s fore-ordained plan, and out of commitment to his disciples, he prays, Nevertheless, Father, your will be done. Thank God that he did!
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