In 1963 I had a profound experience related to the gospel message. I had been brought up in a Christian home, attended Sunday School and other church based activities every week until the age of twelve. During this time I had studied scripture, even memorising passages. I had also met men and women who served God on foreign mission fields and read stories of others. Then in my teens I deliberately abandoned church and lived an ungodly life. Not until I was almost seventeen did I want to acknowledge God and any claim he had on my life. But even then my faith was largely about mental assent and an intellectual acknowledgement that Jesus Christ was my Saviour.
On Easter Sunday I and some friends were to be baptised by immersion in front of a large congregation in the church where I had grown up and where my father was a (lay) deacon. The night before I attended a meeting on Hastings Pier where a lady evangelist was speaking. She had been advertised as working in London among strippers and prostitutes and as she told of her work I was fascinated, though my interest might not have been entirely holy! Then she slipped seamlessly into talking about the cross. During her talk she spoke movingly about every person who played a part in the crucifixion story, the one who betrayed him, the one who denied him, those who forsook him, those who manipulated and those who allowed themselves to be manipulated, and those who hammered the nails through his hands and feet. In each I saw something of my own character but heard echoing down the centuries into my own heart words of mercy and forgiveness from the man hanging on that cross.
By the end of that meeting the gospel had claimed new ground. It had not left my mind but now it had my heart, and with it my whole life in total surrender. Witnessing through baptism the next day to my determination to walk with Jesus added to the event. This was an Easter I will never forget. Of course there was still much wrong in my life, but I was determined with God's help to live a life of obedience to him. I soaked up scripture, grasped opportunities for Christian fellowship, and engaged in personal evangelism at every opportunity. Along the way two things happened around the same time. One of these was to meet up with Operation Mobilisation a primarily youth orientated programme of evangelism. Within the OM philosophy was a strong emphasis on the importance of love as a motivating force behind all we are and all we do. The other big event was a gradual realisation that God was calling me to be an evangelist.
Although I had been a Christian of some kind for much of my life it was only over the last year that God had begun to work powerfully in my life. I was still only seventeen and the conviction of God's call in my life combined with a passion for reaching those who did not know Jesus amazed me. Everything seemed to be moving very quickly. Already I had been given opportunities to speak and to share the gospel. As a result others had come to faith and I appeared to have a recognisable leadership role among my peers. Things came to a head with an opportunity to join an evangelistic mission, first as a trainee and ultimately as a full time evangelist.
The mission I joined worked across Free Church denominations including Pentecostal churches. The founder of the mission and other key people also came from a Pentecostal tradition. This was before the charismatic movement had taken hold in the UK. I was excited by what I saw and heard. There was a dynamic in the lives of the Christians who testified to having been baptised in the Holy Spirit. Prayers were answered, God spoke into gatherings through prophecy, miracles of healing took place before my eyes. By now I had also studied the history of revivals and longed and prayed for revival in my own church and across the land.
In those days special prayer meetings called tarrying meetings were periodically held. At these meetings people wanting the baptism of the Holy Spirit would meet with those who had already received this gift. The intention was to wait before God until he poured out his Spirit as was promised in scripture. One after another I saw my friends filled with the Holy Spirit, but I came away from the meetings disappointed. Various reasons were mentioned in books and in such meetings as to why some might not receive this baptism, but none of them seemed to apply to me. I was seeking to live a holy life in obedience to God. I sought to live by the law of love. Usually when people received this baptism they would be ecstatic in praise, speaking in tongues, and appearing drunk in the Spirit of God. It happened to them but not me. Why wasn't God keeping his promise?
To make matters worse the mission team occasionally took meetings for Pentecostal churches. Sometimes there were saintly men and women who would grasp my hand and ask me whether 'I had received'. Each time I had to say no. It was embarrassing. I used to pray that God would make me sick on such occasions so I would not need to go and be humiliated. He always answered no. Then one day we were booked to take the morning and evening services for an Assemblies of God church in the village of Ash, Kent. The morning meeting was super but some anxiety began to build as the principal of the mission team passed me a note of the Bible reading I was to take that evening.
Immediately I knew what his message would be. I had heard it more than once before. His text, from Acts 20:20 would be "I have not shunned to declare unto you the whole counsel of God". There were four points: Jesus is the Saviour, the Healer, the Baptiser in the Holy Spirit and the Coming King. I had no doubt that everyone else on the team and in the congregation that evening were already baptised in the Holy Spirit. That part of the sermon that evening was going to be preached at me.
As the sermon began I 'amened' through the first and second point. As the topic of the gift of the Holy Spirit came round I reacted badly. I was sure this was a pointed sermon preached at me. In silence as I sat in a pew on one side of the church I informed God just how hypocritical the preacher was. Indeed I knew him to be very unloving. He had a bad temper and a viscous tongue. Many times I had heard him demoralise others and I had been a victim on several occasions. He might be a powerful preacher and had other notable abilities, but who was this unloving man to preach to me who only and always sought to live by the law of love!
Then a sudden and dramatic experience took place. It was as sudden and dramatic as if the light had suddenly gone out in a dark room, or as if the light and warmth of the sun had been replaced with darkness and cold. It seemed to me that God had left me in that moment, and I knew why. Had you asked me whether I was actually aware of God's presence prior to that moment I would have had to say 'no'. But now I knew that such was my state of heart he no longer felt at home there. Perhaps I was not openly like the man in the pulpit, but I was committing exactly the same faults in the privacy of my own heart.
In that moment I prayed silently to God. "O Lord, take away this bitterness, and baptise me in your love". I did not ask for the Holy Spirit but what I received there and then was such a sense of God's presence it was overwhelming. At the same time it felt as if a fountain of blessing was bursting upwards from the depths of my physical being. "Praise the Lord" I murmured quietly, only to find that multiple fountains were erupting within me causing me to praise him more. And the more I praised him the more the fountains erupted.
I spent the remainder of that sermon lost in my own world with God. Then the preacher began to make an appeal. Were there any who wanted to know Jesus as their Saviour? As their Healer? And then, finally, as their Baptiser in the Holy Spirit. Up went my hand but there was no response. I waved it anxious to catch his attention. Finally, the preacher acknowledged my hand. A few moments later we were singing the final hymn but I could not rise. My legs had turned to jelly and my whole being was revelling in this outpouring of love and joy.
Afterwards I was the victim of a group of well meaning Christians who took me into a side room, laid hands on me urging me to speak in tongues. It was a worthless exercise. But on the homeward journey I received my own evidence of what God had wrought. The juior members of the team sat or lay along the benches in the rear of the minibus as it made its way south. Senior members sat in the front and the man who had preached that night was verbally attacking a fellow senior team member who apparently was not as perfect as himself. It was appalling behaviour but, strangely, I felt nothing but sadness and brotherly love towards him. I was loving the unlovable, and I knew that was not a personal virtue. It was God's love shed into my heart by the Holy Spirit.
A few weeks later, while praying in my bedroom at home I found myself praying in a language I had never learnt or even heard before. It made no sense to my intellect but a deep sense of communication with God took place in which I knew his presence. Other spiritual gifts have also occasionally been in my experience. But it not any gift, nor even the momentary gift or baptism of the Holy Spirit that I value most; it is the thrill of knowing his continuing presence - a treasure in an earthen vessel. I would not want to preach or pray or lead worship or counsel another person, or tell someone the story of Jesus without consciously asking the Holy Spirit to come afresh upon me. Of course I am not perfect. I must sometimes grieve God. I am not always filled with the Holy Spirit and not all my words and actions are inspired by his presence. But I know my need and that counts for a lot.
Why did God make me wait. I am sure that he did so. All my longing at that time related to what I wanted to be for God. But even the best I can be is worth nothing compared to what God can make me when I recognise my utter dependence upon him. In 2014 it will be 50 years since I sat in that little chapel in Kent and met with the living God. I treasure those days. The charismatic movement has resulted in the work of the Holy Spirit becoming more commonly understood and accepted. But I yearn for the days when there seemed a greater earnestness for God, a humble holiness, a passion for Christ and to win men and women for him, and a sense of his presence in meetings that left you filled with awe. God save us all from accepting second best or worse.
Paul writing to the church at Ephesus urged them to be continually being filled with the Holy Spirit. It is my prayer for you who read these words, as it is also my prayer for myself.
On Easter Sunday I and some friends were to be baptised by immersion in front of a large congregation in the church where I had grown up and where my father was a (lay) deacon. The night before I attended a meeting on Hastings Pier where a lady evangelist was speaking. She had been advertised as working in London among strippers and prostitutes and as she told of her work I was fascinated, though my interest might not have been entirely holy! Then she slipped seamlessly into talking about the cross. During her talk she spoke movingly about every person who played a part in the crucifixion story, the one who betrayed him, the one who denied him, those who forsook him, those who manipulated and those who allowed themselves to be manipulated, and those who hammered the nails through his hands and feet. In each I saw something of my own character but heard echoing down the centuries into my own heart words of mercy and forgiveness from the man hanging on that cross.
By the end of that meeting the gospel had claimed new ground. It had not left my mind but now it had my heart, and with it my whole life in total surrender. Witnessing through baptism the next day to my determination to walk with Jesus added to the event. This was an Easter I will never forget. Of course there was still much wrong in my life, but I was determined with God's help to live a life of obedience to him. I soaked up scripture, grasped opportunities for Christian fellowship, and engaged in personal evangelism at every opportunity. Along the way two things happened around the same time. One of these was to meet up with Operation Mobilisation a primarily youth orientated programme of evangelism. Within the OM philosophy was a strong emphasis on the importance of love as a motivating force behind all we are and all we do. The other big event was a gradual realisation that God was calling me to be an evangelist.
Although I had been a Christian of some kind for much of my life it was only over the last year that God had begun to work powerfully in my life. I was still only seventeen and the conviction of God's call in my life combined with a passion for reaching those who did not know Jesus amazed me. Everything seemed to be moving very quickly. Already I had been given opportunities to speak and to share the gospel. As a result others had come to faith and I appeared to have a recognisable leadership role among my peers. Things came to a head with an opportunity to join an evangelistic mission, first as a trainee and ultimately as a full time evangelist.
The mission I joined worked across Free Church denominations including Pentecostal churches. The founder of the mission and other key people also came from a Pentecostal tradition. This was before the charismatic movement had taken hold in the UK. I was excited by what I saw and heard. There was a dynamic in the lives of the Christians who testified to having been baptised in the Holy Spirit. Prayers were answered, God spoke into gatherings through prophecy, miracles of healing took place before my eyes. By now I had also studied the history of revivals and longed and prayed for revival in my own church and across the land.
In those days special prayer meetings called tarrying meetings were periodically held. At these meetings people wanting the baptism of the Holy Spirit would meet with those who had already received this gift. The intention was to wait before God until he poured out his Spirit as was promised in scripture. One after another I saw my friends filled with the Holy Spirit, but I came away from the meetings disappointed. Various reasons were mentioned in books and in such meetings as to why some might not receive this baptism, but none of them seemed to apply to me. I was seeking to live a holy life in obedience to God. I sought to live by the law of love. Usually when people received this baptism they would be ecstatic in praise, speaking in tongues, and appearing drunk in the Spirit of God. It happened to them but not me. Why wasn't God keeping his promise?
To make matters worse the mission team occasionally took meetings for Pentecostal churches. Sometimes there were saintly men and women who would grasp my hand and ask me whether 'I had received'. Each time I had to say no. It was embarrassing. I used to pray that God would make me sick on such occasions so I would not need to go and be humiliated. He always answered no. Then one day we were booked to take the morning and evening services for an Assemblies of God church in the village of Ash, Kent. The morning meeting was super but some anxiety began to build as the principal of the mission team passed me a note of the Bible reading I was to take that evening.
Immediately I knew what his message would be. I had heard it more than once before. His text, from Acts 20:20 would be "I have not shunned to declare unto you the whole counsel of God". There were four points: Jesus is the Saviour, the Healer, the Baptiser in the Holy Spirit and the Coming King. I had no doubt that everyone else on the team and in the congregation that evening were already baptised in the Holy Spirit. That part of the sermon that evening was going to be preached at me.
As the sermon began I 'amened' through the first and second point. As the topic of the gift of the Holy Spirit came round I reacted badly. I was sure this was a pointed sermon preached at me. In silence as I sat in a pew on one side of the church I informed God just how hypocritical the preacher was. Indeed I knew him to be very unloving. He had a bad temper and a viscous tongue. Many times I had heard him demoralise others and I had been a victim on several occasions. He might be a powerful preacher and had other notable abilities, but who was this unloving man to preach to me who only and always sought to live by the law of love!
Then a sudden and dramatic experience took place. It was as sudden and dramatic as if the light had suddenly gone out in a dark room, or as if the light and warmth of the sun had been replaced with darkness and cold. It seemed to me that God had left me in that moment, and I knew why. Had you asked me whether I was actually aware of God's presence prior to that moment I would have had to say 'no'. But now I knew that such was my state of heart he no longer felt at home there. Perhaps I was not openly like the man in the pulpit, but I was committing exactly the same faults in the privacy of my own heart.
In that moment I prayed silently to God. "O Lord, take away this bitterness, and baptise me in your love". I did not ask for the Holy Spirit but what I received there and then was such a sense of God's presence it was overwhelming. At the same time it felt as if a fountain of blessing was bursting upwards from the depths of my physical being. "Praise the Lord" I murmured quietly, only to find that multiple fountains were erupting within me causing me to praise him more. And the more I praised him the more the fountains erupted.
I spent the remainder of that sermon lost in my own world with God. Then the preacher began to make an appeal. Were there any who wanted to know Jesus as their Saviour? As their Healer? And then, finally, as their Baptiser in the Holy Spirit. Up went my hand but there was no response. I waved it anxious to catch his attention. Finally, the preacher acknowledged my hand. A few moments later we were singing the final hymn but I could not rise. My legs had turned to jelly and my whole being was revelling in this outpouring of love and joy.
Afterwards I was the victim of a group of well meaning Christians who took me into a side room, laid hands on me urging me to speak in tongues. It was a worthless exercise. But on the homeward journey I received my own evidence of what God had wrought. The juior members of the team sat or lay along the benches in the rear of the minibus as it made its way south. Senior members sat in the front and the man who had preached that night was verbally attacking a fellow senior team member who apparently was not as perfect as himself. It was appalling behaviour but, strangely, I felt nothing but sadness and brotherly love towards him. I was loving the unlovable, and I knew that was not a personal virtue. It was God's love shed into my heart by the Holy Spirit.
A few weeks later, while praying in my bedroom at home I found myself praying in a language I had never learnt or even heard before. It made no sense to my intellect but a deep sense of communication with God took place in which I knew his presence. Other spiritual gifts have also occasionally been in my experience. But it not any gift, nor even the momentary gift or baptism of the Holy Spirit that I value most; it is the thrill of knowing his continuing presence - a treasure in an earthen vessel. I would not want to preach or pray or lead worship or counsel another person, or tell someone the story of Jesus without consciously asking the Holy Spirit to come afresh upon me. Of course I am not perfect. I must sometimes grieve God. I am not always filled with the Holy Spirit and not all my words and actions are inspired by his presence. But I know my need and that counts for a lot.
Why did God make me wait. I am sure that he did so. All my longing at that time related to what I wanted to be for God. But even the best I can be is worth nothing compared to what God can make me when I recognise my utter dependence upon him. In 2014 it will be 50 years since I sat in that little chapel in Kent and met with the living God. I treasure those days. The charismatic movement has resulted in the work of the Holy Spirit becoming more commonly understood and accepted. But I yearn for the days when there seemed a greater earnestness for God, a humble holiness, a passion for Christ and to win men and women for him, and a sense of his presence in meetings that left you filled with awe. God save us all from accepting second best or worse.
Paul writing to the church at Ephesus urged them to be continually being filled with the Holy Spirit. It is my prayer for you who read these words, as it is also my prayer for myself.
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