Saturday, September 23, 2006
John Wesley’s First Step
John Wesley’s life, was considered by many to be the busiest and, in some respects, the most important life in that century. He was a principal founder and the first conspicuous exemplar of a theology of experience. His was a revolution in the whole approach to the interpretation of the gospel. For 25 years (1714 - 1738) Wesley would pursue the kind of assurance that would deliver him from his fear of death and dying. He writes, “The voice of God told me I was not fit to die, since I was afraid, rather than desirous of it. Oh, when shall I wish to be dissolved and to be with Christ? I was so possessed with thoughts of death that I actually wrote my will. So during the summer I turned once again to the mystics.” “My chief motive (in going to Georgia) is the hope of saving my own soul.” “I hope to learn the true sense of the gospel of Christ by preaching to the heathen.”
On board the boat during a storm Wesley was shocked to discover himself afraid to die. “Stormy still and afraid (note in his diary).” The United Brethren (Moravians) serene and unselfish turned the other cheek when not invited to communion and sang hymns of great beauty. They were not impressed by Wesley’s “good works.” The English screamed when a wave hit the ship, Moravians without intermission calmly sang on. When they asked Wesley, “Do you know yourself ? Have you the witness in yourself ? Does the Spirit of God bear witness with your spirit that you are a child of God ? Do you know Jesus Christ ? But do you know He has saved you ? All Wesley could say was, “I hope he has died to save me.” He needed to learn what the first Step was .
Up to this time Wesley argued “that forgiveness and peace must be earned by unceasing effort. For example he made a resolution never to laugh again unless he must, early rising, endless resolutions and rules of behaviour, self-examination, fasting, prayers and many other means of purging the soul became common practice. “I was still convinced I was not yet a son of God. Even thunder and lightning frightened me.” He needed to take the First Step.
On Wednesday May 24th 1738 John took the First Step. The preacher was reading from Luther’s preface to Romans. “Faith is a divine work in us …” The penny dropped. As the words sank in Wesley underwent a change. In his journal he wrote, “I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation, and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine and saved me from the law of sin and death.” His relationship with God had begun. Wesley had become a Son so his fear of death had gone. He was in the divine family now. There was no need to fear anything..
The precise passage from Luther’s preface to Romans used by the preacher, “Wherefore let us conclude that faith alone justifies, and that faith alone fulfils the law, for faith through the merit of Christ obtains the Holy Spirit, which Spirit makes us new hearts, exhilaration, excites and influences our hearts, so that we may do those things willingly of love, which the law commands; and so, at last, good works indeed proceed from the faith which works mightily, and which is so lively in our hearts.”
Did Wesley take the First Step because of his fear of death?
John Wesley had an interest in the Moravian settlers in Georgia. His brother Charles had conversations with the Moravian leader (a German Count). Charles likened one of the Moravian services to being ‘a choir of angels.’ John indicated that he had it in mind to join the Moravians in Georgia at some stage.
Charles was helped by the German Moravian Peter Boehler through a critical phase in his sickness. His contributions both to John and to Charles was crucial. First he extracted from Charles the admission that he trusted in works for his salvation and indicated to him that this was not enough. In conversation with John he went a stage further and convinced him of the need for saving faith. In that case, John asked him, should he stop preaching, since he could hardly preach to others if he lacked faith himself. Boehler’s answer was memorable: “By no means neglect the talent which God has given to you. Preach faith till you have it: and then, because you have it, you will preach faith. For the first time he “offered salvation by faith alone.” The man declared, “I am now ready to die. I know Christ has taken away my sins; and there is no more condemnation for me.’ The man faced death with an equanimity and assurance John himself did not yet possess.
For 25 years (1714 - 1738) Wesley would pursue the kind of assurance that would deliver him from his fear of death and dying.
Wesley in 1725 made religion the business of his life. He wanted to clean himself up that God might love him. But those who wait until they have “cleaned” themselves before they let God love them, wait a long time. Wesley waited 13 years and the laid aside all pretense of self-righteousness in order “to follow naked, the naked Jesus.” God the breathed into John Wesley the spirit of life and the Revival was on.
One aspect of my personality has to do with my inordinate fear of dying and the other is my interest in apparitions. My school was an infirmary for old men. I became accustomed to seeing death. As the old men were carried out, I found myself plagued by haunting doubts. I would become depressed. The question, “What if I should die ?” Death became the enemy. I became a man obsessed.
While still at Oxford I was still haunted by my thoughts of death and I continued my interest in the supernatural.
I especially liked his attitude towards death. I remember his comment regarding the death of his beloved wife: "Were it not for common decency, I could have danced at her funeral.” Still plagued by fear and doubt, de Renty’s “experimental verity” (an assurance of God’s presence) and his imperviousness to death, kept (at least for a while) the enemy on a leash.
Four testimonies by Moravians convinced John that saving faith could produce instantaneous conversion, a concept which had been previously alien to him. On Sunday April 23rd he entered in his journal: “Here ended my disputing. I could only cry out, “Lord, help Thou my unbelief.”
Sharing this new-found conviction about sudden conversion with his brother, he reduced Charles to a state of shock.
On the eve of Boehler’s departure for America, he and Charles had a lengthy conversation at the end of which Charles was brought to the point where he accepted the nature of that one true living faith, whereby alone, “through grace, we are saved.”
Wesley’s exhortations were in his mouth but not in his heart. But he found that almost all conversions in the Acts were instantaneous. We fell into dispute whether conversion was gradual or instantaneous. I (Charles) insisted a man need not know when first he had faith.
He learned that faith does not depend on feeling: joy might be given or withheld. Charles overflowed with joy. John had no such feelings.
By a Christian I mean one who so believes in Christ as that sin hath no more dominion over him. And in that sense of the word I was not a Christian till May 24 last past. For till then sin had dominion over me, although I fought it continually but since then, from that time to this it hath not such. He stressed the witness of the Spirit in his heart although he still waited patiently for joy. He did not doubt that on May 24 he had found the truth.
Suddenly all the uncertainty and confusion of the previous weeks were swept away as he (Charles) grasped hold of that assurance of faith which he had sought for so long. “I now found myself at peace with God … I saw that by faith I stood.”
On board the boat during a storm Wesley was shocked to discover himself afraid to die. “Stormy still and afraid (note in his diary).” The United Brethren (Moravians) serene and unselfish turned the other cheek when not invited to communion and sang hymns of great beauty. They were not impressed by Wesley’s “good works.” The English screamed when a wave hit the ship, Moravians without intermission calmly sang on. When they asked Wesley, “Do you know yourself ? Have you the witness in yourself ? Does the Spirit of God bear witness with your spirit that you are a child of God ? Do you know Jesus Christ ? But do you know He has saved you ? All Wesley could say was, “I hope he has died to save me.” He needed to learn what the first Step was .
Up to this time Wesley argued “that forgiveness and peace must be earned by unceasing effort. For example he made a resolution never to laugh again unless he must, early rising, endless resolutions and rules of behaviour, self-examination, fasting, prayers and many other means of purging the soul became common practice. “I was still convinced I was not yet a son of God. Even thunder and lightning frightened me.” He needed to take the First Step.
On Wednesday May 24th 1738 John took the First Step. The preacher was reading from Luther’s preface to Romans. “Faith is a divine work in us …” The penny dropped. As the words sank in Wesley underwent a change. In his journal he wrote, “I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation, and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine and saved me from the law of sin and death.” His relationship with God had begun. Wesley had become a Son so his fear of death had gone. He was in the divine family now. There was no need to fear anything..
The precise passage from Luther’s preface to Romans used by the preacher, “Wherefore let us conclude that faith alone justifies, and that faith alone fulfils the law, for faith through the merit of Christ obtains the Holy Spirit, which Spirit makes us new hearts, exhilaration, excites and influences our hearts, so that we may do those things willingly of love, which the law commands; and so, at last, good works indeed proceed from the faith which works mightily, and which is so lively in our hearts.”
Did Wesley take the First Step because of his fear of death?
John Wesley had an interest in the Moravian settlers in Georgia. His brother Charles had conversations with the Moravian leader (a German Count). Charles likened one of the Moravian services to being ‘a choir of angels.’ John indicated that he had it in mind to join the Moravians in Georgia at some stage.
Charles was helped by the German Moravian Peter Boehler through a critical phase in his sickness. His contributions both to John and to Charles was crucial. First he extracted from Charles the admission that he trusted in works for his salvation and indicated to him that this was not enough. In conversation with John he went a stage further and convinced him of the need for saving faith. In that case, John asked him, should he stop preaching, since he could hardly preach to others if he lacked faith himself. Boehler’s answer was memorable: “By no means neglect the talent which God has given to you. Preach faith till you have it: and then, because you have it, you will preach faith. For the first time he “offered salvation by faith alone.” The man declared, “I am now ready to die. I know Christ has taken away my sins; and there is no more condemnation for me.’ The man faced death with an equanimity and assurance John himself did not yet possess.
For 25 years (1714 - 1738) Wesley would pursue the kind of assurance that would deliver him from his fear of death and dying.
Wesley in 1725 made religion the business of his life. He wanted to clean himself up that God might love him. But those who wait until they have “cleaned” themselves before they let God love them, wait a long time. Wesley waited 13 years and the laid aside all pretense of self-righteousness in order “to follow naked, the naked Jesus.” God the breathed into John Wesley the spirit of life and the Revival was on.
One aspect of my personality has to do with my inordinate fear of dying and the other is my interest in apparitions. My school was an infirmary for old men. I became accustomed to seeing death. As the old men were carried out, I found myself plagued by haunting doubts. I would become depressed. The question, “What if I should die ?” Death became the enemy. I became a man obsessed.
While still at Oxford I was still haunted by my thoughts of death and I continued my interest in the supernatural.
I especially liked his attitude towards death. I remember his comment regarding the death of his beloved wife: "Were it not for common decency, I could have danced at her funeral.” Still plagued by fear and doubt, de Renty’s “experimental verity” (an assurance of God’s presence) and his imperviousness to death, kept (at least for a while) the enemy on a leash.
Four testimonies by Moravians convinced John that saving faith could produce instantaneous conversion, a concept which had been previously alien to him. On Sunday April 23rd he entered in his journal: “Here ended my disputing. I could only cry out, “Lord, help Thou my unbelief.”
Sharing this new-found conviction about sudden conversion with his brother, he reduced Charles to a state of shock.
On the eve of Boehler’s departure for America, he and Charles had a lengthy conversation at the end of which Charles was brought to the point where he accepted the nature of that one true living faith, whereby alone, “through grace, we are saved.”
Wesley’s exhortations were in his mouth but not in his heart. But he found that almost all conversions in the Acts were instantaneous. We fell into dispute whether conversion was gradual or instantaneous. I (Charles) insisted a man need not know when first he had faith.
He learned that faith does not depend on feeling: joy might be given or withheld. Charles overflowed with joy. John had no such feelings.
By a Christian I mean one who so believes in Christ as that sin hath no more dominion over him. And in that sense of the word I was not a Christian till May 24 last past. For till then sin had dominion over me, although I fought it continually but since then, from that time to this it hath not such. He stressed the witness of the Spirit in his heart although he still waited patiently for joy. He did not doubt that on May 24 he had found the truth.
Suddenly all the uncertainty and confusion of the previous weeks were swept away as he (Charles) grasped hold of that assurance of faith which he had sought for so long. “I now found myself at peace with God … I saw that by faith I stood.”
Every Journey Starts with a First Step
What is the first step? Does this step decide what your life will be? Why do some people decide to make the Journey alone? To discover the answers to these questions, we can cover ground that is familiar to some and completely strange to others. Most people feel they are on a Journey of some sort, but are unable to explain its purpose. Many arrive at the end of their Journey and still feel as unawakened to the Voice as they were at the beginning. They have perhaps achieved much in the way of material things, but they arrive at the end of their journey with misgivings and absolutely no certainty about the future.
My interest, at the time, was in the end of the Journey and this interest was quickened when I read a little book called “The Traveller’s Guide”. The writer told the story of a man who said he had to go on a journey. He had not prepared for it, yet he knew was going. He did not know the destiny before him. It was the journey of life itself. It must end sometime. To me this put the way one lived very much to the fore and as I had been taught about life after death, I had in mind the need to decide early in life and make preparation for that particular Journey.
I was going at the time to hear a Welsh evangelist who was preaching in a Crusade. I listened to him every night. He was certain that what he was teaching was true and I felt that much of what he was saying was relative to me. Many evenings he finished in tears. I knew that the Voice I was hearing was the Voice of Truth but I was struggling with the usual desires which overcome many young people in life. But I had a choice to make. It was as simple as that.
Just two nights before the Crusade was to close I was very much affected by the message preached. Should I say “Yes” or should I put the decision off again? A Sunday school teacher had taught the whole class to remember the 19th chapter of John’s Gospel. It contains the story of the crucifixion.
Three crosses standing side by side on Calvary’s Hill, of broken law a sign. Two for their own transgressions died, the middle One for mine.
As the speaker closed in prayer I struggled with making this decision. Should I accept the message and allow Jesus to enter my heart and rule my life? I knew this was what it meant. Looking at the three crosses I decided to make the decision. Yes, I would. I did not realize then that that decision would make such a change in my life and lead me hear that Voice again and again and to experience again and again a “power” which I could not explain.
I realize now that I had been brought to a place of decision by the Voice and to the Cross where I could acknowledge my need and receive the forgiveness of sins. I knew that Jesus said,
“When He (the Voice - the Holy Spirit) comes, He will convict the world concerning sin, and righteousness, and judgment to come”.
I did not realize fully then that I was entering into a relationship in which I would learn to hear the Voice instructing me, teaching me, counseling me and showing me the way I should go. I would never have to do anything on my own again. I did not fully realize that I was now in the family of God, a son with a Heavenly Father who would hold me again and again in the hollow of His hand. He would prepare me for all the various things I would experience in life. I would find the Voice telling me to “live in the Now”.
Heaven is round about us when we are aware of not only the Voice but the “Presence”. This was what He meant when He promised to “supply all my needs.” I knew then that when I made the decision to say “Yes” that I did not need to worry anymore about the hereafter. That was settled too. I was certain that my name was written in Heaven that night and would never be eradicated. The new relationship was vital - a son.
My interest, at the time, was in the end of the Journey and this interest was quickened when I read a little book called “The Traveller’s Guide”. The writer told the story of a man who said he had to go on a journey. He had not prepared for it, yet he knew was going. He did not know the destiny before him. It was the journey of life itself. It must end sometime. To me this put the way one lived very much to the fore and as I had been taught about life after death, I had in mind the need to decide early in life and make preparation for that particular Journey.
I was going at the time to hear a Welsh evangelist who was preaching in a Crusade. I listened to him every night. He was certain that what he was teaching was true and I felt that much of what he was saying was relative to me. Many evenings he finished in tears. I knew that the Voice I was hearing was the Voice of Truth but I was struggling with the usual desires which overcome many young people in life. But I had a choice to make. It was as simple as that.
Just two nights before the Crusade was to close I was very much affected by the message preached. Should I say “Yes” or should I put the decision off again? A Sunday school teacher had taught the whole class to remember the 19th chapter of John’s Gospel. It contains the story of the crucifixion.
Three crosses standing side by side on Calvary’s Hill, of broken law a sign. Two for their own transgressions died, the middle One for mine.
As the speaker closed in prayer I struggled with making this decision. Should I accept the message and allow Jesus to enter my heart and rule my life? I knew this was what it meant. Looking at the three crosses I decided to make the decision. Yes, I would. I did not realize then that that decision would make such a change in my life and lead me hear that Voice again and again and to experience again and again a “power” which I could not explain.
I realize now that I had been brought to a place of decision by the Voice and to the Cross where I could acknowledge my need and receive the forgiveness of sins. I knew that Jesus said,
“When He (the Voice - the Holy Spirit) comes, He will convict the world concerning sin, and righteousness, and judgment to come”.
I did not realize fully then that I was entering into a relationship in which I would learn to hear the Voice instructing me, teaching me, counseling me and showing me the way I should go. I would never have to do anything on my own again. I did not fully realize that I was now in the family of God, a son with a Heavenly Father who would hold me again and again in the hollow of His hand. He would prepare me for all the various things I would experience in life. I would find the Voice telling me to “live in the Now”.
Heaven is round about us when we are aware of not only the Voice but the “Presence”. This was what He meant when He promised to “supply all my needs.” I knew then that when I made the decision to say “Yes” that I did not need to worry anymore about the hereafter. That was settled too. I was certain that my name was written in Heaven that night and would never be eradicated. The new relationship was vital - a son.
Urgings of the Spirit
Five years ago, I found that any undue haste in walking brought on a feeling of weakness and sudden surges of pain in my chest. Many times I found that I had to stop and wait until I could continue my journey.
Until about October 2000, I relied on personal and public prayer at various healing services. During October I gained a deep conviction that I should have an operation on my heart. Once the decision was made, I felt no qualms about it and went forward without any sense of fear. I met the consultant whose bearing, appearance and attitude increased my confidence. I had the triple heart bypass.
Four days after the operation, I was lying on the hospital bed watching TV and wondering what I was going to do in the future. What would the Lord be saying to me, now that my heart was mended? I noticed that the door of the room locker was opened and a little blue book was sitting upright. I found it was a Gideon's International New Testament. I opened it, wanting and expecting “Word from the Lord." I found I was looking at one verse. Psalm 32:8. The words seemed to be standing out on the little page. The words struck home to my heart. Could God be saying that to me? Six billion people in the world and here was God speaking directly to me.
"I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go. I will counsel you and show you the way."
The next day I was walking down the ward and I heard a woman cry. I walked on. It was not my business. But the voice came back "I will instruct you … But you did not respond to that cry." I looked back on my life in the healing ministry, the times when I was the "reluctant healer." Let somebody else do it. I have no gift.
The next day I walked down the ward again and I heard the crying again. I walked on but I heard Psalm 32 and the whole of verse 8 in my head. I found myself turning in towards the crying woman. She was weeping by herself and I sat down beside her and wept with her. I was experiencing the everlasting compassion of Christ. She was troubled, not about her self, but about the effect of her possible death would have on her children. I found myself sharing my confidence in, and my experience of God with her. Her whole attitude changed. My obedience to the inner urgings of the Spirit was bearing fruit.
The next day I felt the urge to go into the nearby public ward. It seemed to be full of activity with what seemed like dozens of nurses and doctors attending to the many patients. I was about to turn away when my eye caught sight of an old man at the top of the ward. He was sitting on a chair by himself, looking down at the floor.
I felt an inner surge of compassion rise for this stranger. Again, the dilemma. Should I go and speak with him? Should I follow the inner urge of the Spirit to talk with this stranger? I walked up through the ward and asked the man how he was. He told me that he was scheduled for a triple bypass operation but there seemed to him little reason for going through it. All his family were dead and he was alone. We talked quietly for a while and I shared my confidence in God. The next day when I went back to the ward, he was standing up at his bedside and waved for me to come and see him again. He had regained some faith and expectation for the future.
I returned to my ward. "Lord, is this the way it has to be? What if I make a mistake? " The answer came clear and simply.
"Respond to my compassion. Just that and no more. I will do the rest".
Until about October 2000, I relied on personal and public prayer at various healing services. During October I gained a deep conviction that I should have an operation on my heart. Once the decision was made, I felt no qualms about it and went forward without any sense of fear. I met the consultant whose bearing, appearance and attitude increased my confidence. I had the triple heart bypass.
Four days after the operation, I was lying on the hospital bed watching TV and wondering what I was going to do in the future. What would the Lord be saying to me, now that my heart was mended? I noticed that the door of the room locker was opened and a little blue book was sitting upright. I found it was a Gideon's International New Testament. I opened it, wanting and expecting “Word from the Lord." I found I was looking at one verse. Psalm 32:8. The words seemed to be standing out on the little page. The words struck home to my heart. Could God be saying that to me? Six billion people in the world and here was God speaking directly to me.
"I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go. I will counsel you and show you the way."
The next day I was walking down the ward and I heard a woman cry. I walked on. It was not my business. But the voice came back "I will instruct you … But you did not respond to that cry." I looked back on my life in the healing ministry, the times when I was the "reluctant healer." Let somebody else do it. I have no gift.
The next day I walked down the ward again and I heard the crying again. I walked on but I heard Psalm 32 and the whole of verse 8 in my head. I found myself turning in towards the crying woman. She was weeping by herself and I sat down beside her and wept with her. I was experiencing the everlasting compassion of Christ. She was troubled, not about her self, but about the effect of her possible death would have on her children. I found myself sharing my confidence in, and my experience of God with her. Her whole attitude changed. My obedience to the inner urgings of the Spirit was bearing fruit.
The next day I felt the urge to go into the nearby public ward. It seemed to be full of activity with what seemed like dozens of nurses and doctors attending to the many patients. I was about to turn away when my eye caught sight of an old man at the top of the ward. He was sitting on a chair by himself, looking down at the floor.
I felt an inner surge of compassion rise for this stranger. Again, the dilemma. Should I go and speak with him? Should I follow the inner urge of the Spirit to talk with this stranger? I walked up through the ward and asked the man how he was. He told me that he was scheduled for a triple bypass operation but there seemed to him little reason for going through it. All his family were dead and he was alone. We talked quietly for a while and I shared my confidence in God. The next day when I went back to the ward, he was standing up at his bedside and waved for me to come and see him again. He had regained some faith and expectation for the future.
I returned to my ward. "Lord, is this the way it has to be? What if I make a mistake? " The answer came clear and simply.
"Respond to my compassion. Just that and no more. I will do the rest".
Saturday, September 02, 2006
Beauty Restored
My Granddaughter Rachael gave her hand to me and I was shocked. The palm of each hand was covered with ugly warts. The back of each hand had warts around each nail. Rachael, only 15, beautiful and very open to life. But those warts?
That night I could think only of Rachael’s hands. I remembered a friend of mine telling me a story about warts disappearing overnight. How would Rachael react if I told her this story? Young people find it hard to "believe", but I decided to risk telling her.
I told her that my friend's mother was troubled with warts. One morning she showed my friend her clear hands. "I cursed them last night," she said, as if it was the most natural event that could possibly happen. Her son (a very successful businessman) told me this story without the least embarrassment. He believed from his own experience that miracles happen today.
I left the story with Rachael with the suggestion that she should attend a Healing Service in St Anne's Cathedral. I suggested that "prayer" was worth trying if she could bring herself to go.
Sometime later she decided to go to the Cathedral with her “Nana”. A man there talked with her and explained a little about the Ministry of Healing. He said that if we can give ourselves into the hands of Jesus, we can be healed.
Rachael went on holiday and I asked to see her hands when she came back. There was no trace of warts on either hand. When I asked Rachael what she felt had happened, she said simply, "It was Nana's faith." She had no doubt that this was the reason.
That is what happened. Why put up with warts?
That night I could think only of Rachael’s hands. I remembered a friend of mine telling me a story about warts disappearing overnight. How would Rachael react if I told her this story? Young people find it hard to "believe", but I decided to risk telling her.
I told her that my friend's mother was troubled with warts. One morning she showed my friend her clear hands. "I cursed them last night," she said, as if it was the most natural event that could possibly happen. Her son (a very successful businessman) told me this story without the least embarrassment. He believed from his own experience that miracles happen today.
I left the story with Rachael with the suggestion that she should attend a Healing Service in St Anne's Cathedral. I suggested that "prayer" was worth trying if she could bring herself to go.
Sometime later she decided to go to the Cathedral with her “Nana”. A man there talked with her and explained a little about the Ministry of Healing. He said that if we can give ourselves into the hands of Jesus, we can be healed.
Rachael went on holiday and I asked to see her hands when she came back. There was no trace of warts on either hand. When I asked Rachael what she felt had happened, she said simply, "It was Nana's faith." She had no doubt that this was the reason.
That is what happened. Why put up with warts?
Sunday, August 27, 2006
Surprised by Joy
I found myself "Surprised by Joy" one afternoon when my wife Joan and I were visiting her friend, Helen, in a Nursing Home. I had decided that I would not go in to see this lady as she was completely disabled by a stroke and was unable to speak or move. I thought it would be too distressing to see someone whom I had seen in good health just a few weeks before.
When we arrived, I got out of the car and looked around me. The country house was overlooking Belfast Lough, on one of the most beautiful locations on the coast. The gardens around the building were beautifully landscaped and the view over the Lough was superb. The sun was shining on the water and the tide lapped quietly against the rocks on the shore. The simple beauty of the scene took my breath away. Joy welled up inside of me, surprising me with the depth of my feeling.
Of course I could have sat in the car and missed being "Surprised by Joy", but as I gazed across the Lough, it was as clear to me as it had ever been that God was good.
As I passed the windows of the Nursing Home, I could see a few old people sitting around in rooms. One old lady lying back in an armchair while two old men talked together beside her. My joy dimmed a little as I considered the final difficulties that life brings. When I got to the front door of the building Joan was just coming out. She asked me if I would like to go upstairs and see Helen. I did not intend to see her at all, but I thought at least I'll go in and see the building. Right at the front door was a beautiful mahogany staircase with a handrail and carved banisters that could only have been made by a skilled artisan.
When we got to the top of the staircase, I felt a strong urge to enter the Ward and there lay Helen, now a shadow of her former self. I took her emaciated hand in mine and felt a further strong urge to pray. The words flowed without effort. It was as if someone else was in the Ward with us. The words assured Helen of God's love for her, of the fact that she would never be alone and that she was being held in the everlasting arms. I noticed a slight effort to open her eyes and mouth to speak.
I don't know whether Helen could hear me or not. But I do know that I was again experiencing what it means to be "Surprised by Joy." There had been a Presence there and it filled me with faith and joy. I had again felt the Compassion of the Stranger of Galilee.
When we arrived, I got out of the car and looked around me. The country house was overlooking Belfast Lough, on one of the most beautiful locations on the coast. The gardens around the building were beautifully landscaped and the view over the Lough was superb. The sun was shining on the water and the tide lapped quietly against the rocks on the shore. The simple beauty of the scene took my breath away. Joy welled up inside of me, surprising me with the depth of my feeling.
Of course I could have sat in the car and missed being "Surprised by Joy", but as I gazed across the Lough, it was as clear to me as it had ever been that God was good.
As I passed the windows of the Nursing Home, I could see a few old people sitting around in rooms. One old lady lying back in an armchair while two old men talked together beside her. My joy dimmed a little as I considered the final difficulties that life brings. When I got to the front door of the building Joan was just coming out. She asked me if I would like to go upstairs and see Helen. I did not intend to see her at all, but I thought at least I'll go in and see the building. Right at the front door was a beautiful mahogany staircase with a handrail and carved banisters that could only have been made by a skilled artisan.
When we got to the top of the staircase, I felt a strong urge to enter the Ward and there lay Helen, now a shadow of her former self. I took her emaciated hand in mine and felt a further strong urge to pray. The words flowed without effort. It was as if someone else was in the Ward with us. The words assured Helen of God's love for her, of the fact that she would never be alone and that she was being held in the everlasting arms. I noticed a slight effort to open her eyes and mouth to speak.
I don't know whether Helen could hear me or not. But I do know that I was again experiencing what it means to be "Surprised by Joy." There had been a Presence there and it filled me with faith and joy. I had again felt the Compassion of the Stranger of Galilee.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
A Moment of Faith
I was lying in the Ulster Hospital awaiting death. I had been taken into the hospital some three weeks previously suffering from pneumonia and a strong pain in my stomach. I was being given continuous changes in antibiotics as the Doctors tried to find out what was causing the pain. As time went by, I found that poison was entering my system and causing septicemia. This presented the surgeon with a problem. I could not be operated on in such condition.
During this period I was in continual prayer for healing. I was carrying on a conversation with the Lord telling Him if this was the way I had to go, so be it. Suddenly, I had a vision of a giant hand floating in front of me. It had no visible support. I was looking directly at the palm of the hand as it was facing me. A figure was lying full length on the edge of the hand. I realised it was me, lying on my side. Was this the end of my life here on earth?
As these thoughts came to me, I heard another voice saying just two words. They were words that immediately transformed my attitude. I heard them plainly. I knew they were from the Lord. The two words were:
"Not Yet."
Just two words. I had no difficulty in believing them. I knew the Voice. Up to this time, my wife had simply refused to sign any papers relating to an operation as she understood that this would mean death for me. I told her what had happened and that I wanted to see the surgeon. When he came, I told him that I wanted to go through with the operation, but he was quite adamant that it was too risky. I persisted. He finally agreed that if the anaesthetist advised him that I could get one good breath, then the operation could go ahead. This seemed an impossible request as I was on the verge of heart failure and could hardly speak to anyone with my throat clogging. I prayed hard for one clear breath and it came. “Alright”, he said, “let’s do it”.
All my family had been called for as the operation proceeded as it was not expected that I should survive. I remember waking up the next morning in the intensive care ward and for the first time seeing all the walls and ceilings of the ward back to their normal colour. I felt a strong assurance within myself that all was well.
My time on this earth was not yet over, just as the Voice had said. I had had a "moment of faith."
During this period I was in continual prayer for healing. I was carrying on a conversation with the Lord telling Him if this was the way I had to go, so be it. Suddenly, I had a vision of a giant hand floating in front of me. It had no visible support. I was looking directly at the palm of the hand as it was facing me. A figure was lying full length on the edge of the hand. I realised it was me, lying on my side. Was this the end of my life here on earth?
As these thoughts came to me, I heard another voice saying just two words. They were words that immediately transformed my attitude. I heard them plainly. I knew they were from the Lord. The two words were:
"Not Yet."
Just two words. I had no difficulty in believing them. I knew the Voice. Up to this time, my wife had simply refused to sign any papers relating to an operation as she understood that this would mean death for me. I told her what had happened and that I wanted to see the surgeon. When he came, I told him that I wanted to go through with the operation, but he was quite adamant that it was too risky. I persisted. He finally agreed that if the anaesthetist advised him that I could get one good breath, then the operation could go ahead. This seemed an impossible request as I was on the verge of heart failure and could hardly speak to anyone with my throat clogging. I prayed hard for one clear breath and it came. “Alright”, he said, “let’s do it”.
All my family had been called for as the operation proceeded as it was not expected that I should survive. I remember waking up the next morning in the intensive care ward and for the first time seeing all the walls and ceilings of the ward back to their normal colour. I felt a strong assurance within myself that all was well.
My time on this earth was not yet over, just as the Voice had said. I had had a "moment of faith."
Two Minutes with the Lord
A friend asked me to go and visit a man who was dying. I remember that man lying on his bed and then rising on his elbow and saying to us all,
"Give me two minutes with the Lord and all will be well."
As I looked at him,I wondered what he meant. Was it the Lord's actual presence he wanted on this occasion? Was the Lord not real enough for him through the Word? Why two minutes? Later I realized he was looking for two moments of faith. Then he would be healed.
"Give me two minutes with the Lord and all will be well."
As I looked at him,I wondered what he meant. Was it the Lord's actual presence he wanted on this occasion? Was the Lord not real enough for him through the Word? Why two minutes? Later I realized he was looking for two moments of faith. Then he would be healed.
The Norbreck Castle Hotel
It was the year 1976. The dining room, of the Norbreck Castle Hotel was full - eight hundred people, sitting at circular tables. The keynote speaker was Demos Shakarian, President of the Full Gospel Business Men’s Fellowship. My friend, a motor dealer, was sitting beside me, with two special friends of his. He was silently hoping that nothing too extravagant would happen to disturb his guests. As I listened to Demos speaking, I felt a strong desire to raise my arms and hands to the Lord, and had a vision. I felt as if I was no longer at that table. No longer attached to things. Free from everything that would hold me down. It was a different dimension.
Soon I heard Demos say,
“Some of you will have had a fresh experience of the Lord. If so, look around you, and if you see someone in need, go to that person and help them.”
I looked around and saw two girls in their early twenties, kneeling on the floor, weeping. I found myself getting up and going down to the girls. I asked each of them what they needed prayer for. As I prayed for each of them in turn, they slipped into unconsciousness. I laid each one down on the floor, asleep. I was shaking. Was this “the Power” that James White had talked about years ago?
As I made my way to the door to the main corridor, after the session, I suddenly found I had great difficulty moving my legs. I lurched over to the corridor wall, and leant against it. Was this the same kind of loss of power, that James White had experienced, after praying for the sick? As I stood there waiting for the paralysis to pass, I saw two young, well-dressed women, striding with great excitement down the corridor. They seemed fulfilled. They were the same two girls I had prayed for.
They had received something. I had lost something. From that moment, I know more than ever that I had to “explore and discover” this mysterious energy which can change us, from the inside out, and transform our thinking about God. He is nearer than we know.
Soon I heard Demos say,
“Some of you will have had a fresh experience of the Lord. If so, look around you, and if you see someone in need, go to that person and help them.”
I looked around and saw two girls in their early twenties, kneeling on the floor, weeping. I found myself getting up and going down to the girls. I asked each of them what they needed prayer for. As I prayed for each of them in turn, they slipped into unconsciousness. I laid each one down on the floor, asleep. I was shaking. Was this “the Power” that James White had talked about years ago?
As I made my way to the door to the main corridor, after the session, I suddenly found I had great difficulty moving my legs. I lurched over to the corridor wall, and leant against it. Was this the same kind of loss of power, that James White had experienced, after praying for the sick? As I stood there waiting for the paralysis to pass, I saw two young, well-dressed women, striding with great excitement down the corridor. They seemed fulfilled. They were the same two girls I had prayed for.
They had received something. I had lost something. From that moment, I know more than ever that I had to “explore and discover” this mysterious energy which can change us, from the inside out, and transform our thinking about God. He is nearer than we know.
The Power of God in the King’s Hall
James White was an American evangelist who came to Belfast in the Sixties. He said he came because he had a dream about a very large hall in Belfast. He was being told to “Go and Heal”.
How often I have heard men say those words? At that time, I had little experience of healing, but I was interested in any signs of unusual spiritual power, power which altered our reality.
When James White came to Belfast, he was shown a few small halls as suitable places for a healing campaign. As he was shown each hall, he kept repeating that the halls were not in his dream. The only hall he had seen was not even the 2,000 seat Ulster Hall, but the King’s Hall. But who could believe him when he said that the enormous King’s Hall would be filled ?
His friends persuaded him to start in a smaller hall. After a week or so, it was became clear that it was not large enough and eventually James White found himself in the Ulster Hall. I saw the advertisement and started to go every night. I was amazed at what I saw. Crowds of people gathered around the Hall an hour before the service started. Slowly the Ulster Hall filled to capacity, and many were left outside.
Why would anybody be interested in what James White had to say? A ex-boxer, he was a good enough speaker, but more than that, he had a message of physical and spiritual healing which seemed to touch people at a deep level. I thought I would ask a friend to come and see for himself what was going on. When I broached the subject, my friend immediately said that he had witnessed James White healing a close relative of his. She had a large swelling in her neck. My friend said he watched it disappear as James White prayed.
That was the sort of thing that was happening every night in the Ulster Hall. It was a dramatic experience. People often fell backwards when James White prayed for their immediate healing. James kept saying, over and over again, as he prayed,
“It’s the power of God.”
Finally, the King’s hall was taken for the last meeting. This was the Hall that James White had seen in his dream and it was filled to overflowing. During that service, I saw him arrange a full line of people around the platform, holding hands. He stood at one end of the platform, holding the first person’s hand, and prayed. The whole line of people fell from one end to the other.
I was left with a problem. Should I accept this to be, as James White declared it, “The Power of God”? The healings were there. Something very unusual was happening. Why this “falling phenomena?” I still remember a small, dapper man, with well-oiled black hair, lying full length on the platform. James was prophesying over him, “He would preach the gospel with great blessing, during many years to come”. How did James White know this? The small dapper man has been preaching ever since, even on the air. I remember a very successful business man, dancing across the platform with great abandon. He was filled with delight. An energy had taken over, and he was simply reacting in a way which must have astounded him, as well as those who watched in amazement.
James White had opened a channel to a mysterious spiritual power, that night in the Kings Hall.
How often I have heard men say those words? At that time, I had little experience of healing, but I was interested in any signs of unusual spiritual power, power which altered our reality.
When James White came to Belfast, he was shown a few small halls as suitable places for a healing campaign. As he was shown each hall, he kept repeating that the halls were not in his dream. The only hall he had seen was not even the 2,000 seat Ulster Hall, but the King’s Hall. But who could believe him when he said that the enormous King’s Hall would be filled ?
His friends persuaded him to start in a smaller hall. After a week or so, it was became clear that it was not large enough and eventually James White found himself in the Ulster Hall. I saw the advertisement and started to go every night. I was amazed at what I saw. Crowds of people gathered around the Hall an hour before the service started. Slowly the Ulster Hall filled to capacity, and many were left outside.
Why would anybody be interested in what James White had to say? A ex-boxer, he was a good enough speaker, but more than that, he had a message of physical and spiritual healing which seemed to touch people at a deep level. I thought I would ask a friend to come and see for himself what was going on. When I broached the subject, my friend immediately said that he had witnessed James White healing a close relative of his. She had a large swelling in her neck. My friend said he watched it disappear as James White prayed.
That was the sort of thing that was happening every night in the Ulster Hall. It was a dramatic experience. People often fell backwards when James White prayed for their immediate healing. James kept saying, over and over again, as he prayed,
“It’s the power of God.”
Finally, the King’s hall was taken for the last meeting. This was the Hall that James White had seen in his dream and it was filled to overflowing. During that service, I saw him arrange a full line of people around the platform, holding hands. He stood at one end of the platform, holding the first person’s hand, and prayed. The whole line of people fell from one end to the other.
I was left with a problem. Should I accept this to be, as James White declared it, “The Power of God”? The healings were there. Something very unusual was happening. Why this “falling phenomena?” I still remember a small, dapper man, with well-oiled black hair, lying full length on the platform. James was prophesying over him, “He would preach the gospel with great blessing, during many years to come”. How did James White know this? The small dapper man has been preaching ever since, even on the air. I remember a very successful business man, dancing across the platform with great abandon. He was filled with delight. An energy had taken over, and he was simply reacting in a way which must have astounded him, as well as those who watched in amazement.
James White had opened a channel to a mysterious spiritual power, that night in the Kings Hall.
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Hand of a Stranger
Many people live and speak as if God were dead. They do not expect to hear from him. Their experience does not include a memory of a time when God was saying something important to them. God is dead. There is nothing more to be said.
When I was twenty years old, I had an experience of God “caring” for me personally. It was real and it transformed my thinking about God.
Having been brought up in the Brethren movement, I decided to leave home in 1942 and went to London. After being there for about three months, I had become disillusioned about the “freedom” I had wanted so badly. I was standing in a crowd in Victoria Station in South London. I felt utterly alone as the crowds of people swirled about me.
Standing alone in a crowded station is not the best place to consider your life. Three months before, I was filled with excitement with the prospect of going to London, to be free from the shackles of parents and others who thought in a particular way. I would no longer have to follow and conform. No longer to have to “go their way.” I had left home with about thirty men about to take part in rebuilding bomb-damaged buildings. Many of these men were away from home for the first time, with rough backgrounds and little or no time for religion or God. I was living with them in a corrugated iron Nissan Hut over which Doodlebugs flew by day and V-rockets passed over at night.
The station was crowded with people, all of whom had somewhere to go. I did not. I had no purpose and no prospects. As I stood there, I started to pray.
“Lord, what shall I do ? Help me ”.
At that instant, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and looked into the eyes of a complete stranger, dressed like the London businessmen I had come to know. Face shining, clear and clean, so different from what I had become used to during the previous months. He asked me directly where I had come from. I told him, “Belfast, Northern Ireland.” He told me he too came from Northern Ireland and had been in London for several years with his mother. “Would I like to come and spend a weekend with them ?”
I agreed to go. They lived in a fine place in the suburbs called Carshalton. When we arrived there, I found that two other young people (one of whom I knew from back home) were staying there. Within a week I found myself living amongst friends in a Christian environment.
How did such a meeting take place?
When I was twenty years old, I had an experience of God “caring” for me personally. It was real and it transformed my thinking about God.
Having been brought up in the Brethren movement, I decided to leave home in 1942 and went to London. After being there for about three months, I had become disillusioned about the “freedom” I had wanted so badly. I was standing in a crowd in Victoria Station in South London. I felt utterly alone as the crowds of people swirled about me.
Standing alone in a crowded station is not the best place to consider your life. Three months before, I was filled with excitement with the prospect of going to London, to be free from the shackles of parents and others who thought in a particular way. I would no longer have to follow and conform. No longer to have to “go their way.” I had left home with about thirty men about to take part in rebuilding bomb-damaged buildings. Many of these men were away from home for the first time, with rough backgrounds and little or no time for religion or God. I was living with them in a corrugated iron Nissan Hut over which Doodlebugs flew by day and V-rockets passed over at night.
The station was crowded with people, all of whom had somewhere to go. I did not. I had no purpose and no prospects. As I stood there, I started to pray.
“Lord, what shall I do ? Help me ”.
At that instant, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and looked into the eyes of a complete stranger, dressed like the London businessmen I had come to know. Face shining, clear and clean, so different from what I had become used to during the previous months. He asked me directly where I had come from. I told him, “Belfast, Northern Ireland.” He told me he too came from Northern Ireland and had been in London for several years with his mother. “Would I like to come and spend a weekend with them ?”
I agreed to go. They lived in a fine place in the suburbs called Carshalton. When we arrived there, I found that two other young people (one of whom I knew from back home) were staying there. Within a week I found myself living amongst friends in a Christian environment.
How did such a meeting take place?
Saturday, March 25, 2006
A Third Experience of Physical Healing
Twenty-stone Billy was a great friend of mine. He would often inform me with a totally straight face that his extra weight was not due to overeating, but to a medical condition. I liked him for his everyday cheerfulness and good nature.
Twenty-stone Billy had a friend who had heart trouble. The trouble was so severe that his friend would not leave his house in case he had a heart attack. A healing evangelist called Ron McCatty was preaching in the Lurgan area and Billy tried to encourage his friend to attend without success. But on one occasion, towards the end of the Crusade, his friend at last agreed to go with Billy to hear Ron McCatty. Apparently, the evangelist called his friend out and prayed for him and told him his fear of leaving his home would shortly leave him. Billy told me his friend was transformed when he found his fear had gone.
I was particularly interested in his story for the simple reason that I needed healing and I needed it quickly. My right arm had been giving me trouble for about two years. Even as I lay in bed, I was conscious of a continual pain. As I listened to Billy talk about his friend with great excitement, I found myself having a desire to hear this man. I heard he was going to speak at a dinner in the Europa Hotel. I decided to go and hear what he had to say.
Before going to the dinner I went to see my Doctor. I wanted proof (at least the Doctor’s opinion)that my arm was actually in need of healing. His opinion was expressed in one sentence,
“If it is arthritis, you have it for life.”
I sat and listened to Ron McCatty’s story. He had been brought up in the Brethren where such things as “miraculous” healings were not expected. He told of how he had a dream about “healing” and the “healing ministry.” In the dream he heard the Lord telling him to,“Go and heal.”
He immediately decided to answer this command irrespective of what he had been taught in his earlier days. This all suited me. I could relate to him. When he had finished speaking he made an appeal for anyone who had an ailment or some need for healing to rise and step forward. He had been speaking prior to this for an hour. Not one person stood up. I was astounded. His message had seemed so genuine to me. Then it came clearly to me,
“What about your own need ? Your arm needs healed. This man says the Lord actually told him to “go and heal.”
I looked around at the 150 people there and wondered could I ever expose myself to this public event even to get healed? I felt prompted to go forward. He seemed to ignore me and kept exhorting others to come forward. After a few minutes others did rise and stand alongside me for healing. During this time I was turning from him to the Lord in prayer. I knew that if I was going to be healed it would not be Ron McCatty who did it. It would be a higher power, the Lord Himself. Could I ignore all these people and “touch” Him now ? Could I allow Him to “touch” me?”
After others had been dealt with, Ron McCatty turned to me and said,
“God has been dealing with you.”
I believed him. He then simply reached out his hand towards me and I found myself falling full length on the floor. After a period I tried to rise and did so with some difficulty. He asked me what had been wrong with me. I told him. He asked, “How is it now?” I shook the right arm a bit and told him I could not feel any pain in it. I have never felt any pain or had any trouble with the arm since then.
Twenty-stone Billy’s introduction to the healing ministry of Ron McCatty had borne fruit. I owe him and Ron McCatty quite a debt. The subsequent experience of healing made my relationship with God more firm and positive than ever. I had gone through an experience of personal faith which produced tangible results.
Twenty-stone Billy had a friend who had heart trouble. The trouble was so severe that his friend would not leave his house in case he had a heart attack. A healing evangelist called Ron McCatty was preaching in the Lurgan area and Billy tried to encourage his friend to attend without success. But on one occasion, towards the end of the Crusade, his friend at last agreed to go with Billy to hear Ron McCatty. Apparently, the evangelist called his friend out and prayed for him and told him his fear of leaving his home would shortly leave him. Billy told me his friend was transformed when he found his fear had gone.
I was particularly interested in his story for the simple reason that I needed healing and I needed it quickly. My right arm had been giving me trouble for about two years. Even as I lay in bed, I was conscious of a continual pain. As I listened to Billy talk about his friend with great excitement, I found myself having a desire to hear this man. I heard he was going to speak at a dinner in the Europa Hotel. I decided to go and hear what he had to say.
Before going to the dinner I went to see my Doctor. I wanted proof (at least the Doctor’s opinion)that my arm was actually in need of healing. His opinion was expressed in one sentence,
“If it is arthritis, you have it for life.”
I sat and listened to Ron McCatty’s story. He had been brought up in the Brethren where such things as “miraculous” healings were not expected. He told of how he had a dream about “healing” and the “healing ministry.” In the dream he heard the Lord telling him to,“Go and heal.”
He immediately decided to answer this command irrespective of what he had been taught in his earlier days. This all suited me. I could relate to him. When he had finished speaking he made an appeal for anyone who had an ailment or some need for healing to rise and step forward. He had been speaking prior to this for an hour. Not one person stood up. I was astounded. His message had seemed so genuine to me. Then it came clearly to me,
“What about your own need ? Your arm needs healed. This man says the Lord actually told him to “go and heal.”
I looked around at the 150 people there and wondered could I ever expose myself to this public event even to get healed? I felt prompted to go forward. He seemed to ignore me and kept exhorting others to come forward. After a few minutes others did rise and stand alongside me for healing. During this time I was turning from him to the Lord in prayer. I knew that if I was going to be healed it would not be Ron McCatty who did it. It would be a higher power, the Lord Himself. Could I ignore all these people and “touch” Him now ? Could I allow Him to “touch” me?”
After others had been dealt with, Ron McCatty turned to me and said,
“God has been dealing with you.”
I believed him. He then simply reached out his hand towards me and I found myself falling full length on the floor. After a period I tried to rise and did so with some difficulty. He asked me what had been wrong with me. I told him. He asked, “How is it now?” I shook the right arm a bit and told him I could not feel any pain in it. I have never felt any pain or had any trouble with the arm since then.
Twenty-stone Billy’s introduction to the healing ministry of Ron McCatty had borne fruit. I owe him and Ron McCatty quite a debt. The subsequent experience of healing made my relationship with God more firm and positive than ever. I had gone through an experience of personal faith which produced tangible results.
A Second Experience of Physical Healing
Dr White was adamant. Two years in bed with appropriate drugs and at the end of that time possibly removal of a portion of each lung. There was a hole in each lung. I could not believe it. I pressed him hard. He said,
“You have asked me to tell you the truth and I have done that. I cannot say more.”
I spent another night in tears and prayer in a stretcher like bed in my mother’s home. To have tuberculosis return after fifteen years was really too much. I had got the fifteen years referred to in Isaiah 38:1-6. But it was not enough. I did not want to die at the age of 33.
I already knew what it was like to spend days coughing and unable to breathe. I decided to seek a second opinion. This doctor could be wrong. I contacted Forster Green Hospital and arrange to meet the head doctor there. He knew me from fifteen years earlier. He confirmed that I had two lungs infected and I would be two years in bed and possibly need operations on both lungs. I felt devastated. My life was being destroyed again. What should I do?
I joined a hospital full of people suffering from this peculiar disease. Each day we had a rest hour in the afternoon when everything seemed to close down. I decided that I would spend that time continually praying as best I knew how in prayer asking for healing. I had read a few books on healing since I was ill before but it never occurred to me that I would have to seek it again. I thought I had conquered disease. But a 900 mile journey around Europe on a motor cycle, living on bread and milk, had undermined my health and I was face to face with my nemesis again.
As I prayed each day, I wondered, “How long can I to keep this up?” I could find no one in the hospital interested in divine healing except an ex-sailor who kept telling me about his relative who had been in Downpatrick Hospital with tuberculosis. This person had spent hours kneeling on a tiled ward floor praying for healing, but had died in the hospital. He told me,
“You are wasting your time.”
I persisted. I had no alternative. One day, after about a month, I was feeling very discouraged but I remember the words of this particular prayer,
“Lord, I’m fed up with all this praying, just heal me now.”
Immediately I felt a disturbance within my chest. It was as if the inside was moving as if it were independent of the skin. The movement was so real I knew that something was happening. Could it really be that my prayer was being answered?
I got out of bed and wrote down what had happened. I called to my friend, the ex-sailor,
“I’ve been healed.”
He looked at me in amazement. He had thought of me as a fairly rational individual but now he wondered. Had it all been too much for me? He told every one in the ward. I was horribly embarrassed. This curious fellow in Ward 6. But I persisted. My faith was strong.
I got out of bed after two weeks. Within six months from going into Forster Green Hospital, I was sent home. My Doctor’s notes said “Disease arrested.”
In what way had I been able to “contact” such an irresistible power? The prophets of Baal in days of Isaiah (1 Kings 18:21-39) spent a lot of time and effort in trying to bring rain through their cries and leapings, but only Isaiah was able to make “contact” and produce results. It seems to be in making “contact” with God that healing comes, perhaps in a moment or over a period of time. Intellect told me that me prayers would not could not work. Faith told me that I had to reach beyond intellect and ‘touch’, or be ‘touched’ by, the Eternal.
Monday, March 20, 2006
An Early Experience of Healing
Brought up in the traditions of the Brethren there was little talk of the “miraculous”. So when I discovered that what I thought was pneumonia was really pulmonary tuberculosis, everyone with any sort of connection with my family resorted to prayer. At that time (sixty years ago) people seldom recovered from this disease. However after six weeks in a medical ward in the Royal Victoria Hospital during which time my true condition was diagnosed I was sent home to rest. Complete bed-rest apparently was “the cure.”
My parents were advised that I should go to the Forster Green Hospital where doctors specialized in treating tuberculosis with a mixture of “rest” and some surgery on the lungs. At that time I did not know that the chance of recovery was considered small, so I reluctantly accepted my position and hoped that the “rest” would bring about my recovery.
I waited with impatience on being given a bed in Forster Green Hospital. Many of my father’s friends came to visit and sympathize with the family. One day two ladies were visiting my home. Unfortunately I overhead one of them whispering to her friend, “You know he is expected to die soon ?” This was a moment of truth for me. I never had contemplated that. I had expected to get better through time and rest. I thought my persistent cough would soon go away and leave me to pursue my life as I wished.
I had been spending a lot of time reading my Bible. One old man who came regularly to see me told my father that his son had a very strong and peculiar interest in the scriptures. “There was a reason for this”, he said and he promised to use his influence to get me a place in Forster Green Hospital. Frank Knox, a very forthright evangelical Brethren preacher, came to see me. He found me reading the book of Daniel. I remember his comment. “Oh that is too deep for me.” I assured him that I found that reading Daniel and understanding it were two different things. As a result of my knowledge of the scriptures I knew about a man who had been advised that he was going to die. The man, Hezekiah was sick unto death. He received a message through a prophet,
“Set thine house in order; for thou shalt die, and not live.”
The story is told at length in 2 Kings 20:1-7. Hezekiah turned his face to the wall, and prayed unto the Lord, saying,
“I beseech thee, O Lord, remember now how I have walked before thee in truth and with a perfect heart, and have done that which is good in thy sight. And Hezekiah wept sore".
I decided to follow Hezekiah’s example. I deliberately turned my face to the wall of the parlor room I was lying in and prayed for physical healing and for a longer lifespan. I wept sore most of that night. I eventually fell asleep not having seen any vision or felt any unusual presence, but I felt that I had acted according to the light I had then. The matter was now up to God. I felt at ease. I set a chair close to the right hand side of the bed and decided to reserve that chair for the Lord when he came to visit me.
I did not expect instant healing as I had been taught that sort of change did not happen nowadays. My father on one occasion had declared “Show me one healing and I will believe.” I could not show him one.
I decided that I would lay hold on the promise that Hezekiah got from God through Isaiah the prophet,
“Thus saith the Lord, the God of David, I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears: behold, I will heal thee: on the third day thou shalt go up unto the house of the Lord. And I will add unto thy days fifteen years."
I decided to ask for the fifteen years. I would be healed according to my faith. So each day I started to read and pray expecting my body to resist the disease and gain new life. Soon I was in the Forster Green Hospital and found that all I did was rest and sleep.
The entire hospital was given over to patients suffering from tuberculosis. There seemed to be little respite. In the next bed to me a real Christian man coughed every day until his lungs gave up. I wondered why I seemed to be getting better and my friend was going downhill. I never knew until then that every hospital has a morgue.
Despite the conditions all around, I found myself at peace. The future was already promised. So during the next six months I found myself content to wait until the promise was fulfilled and enjoyed hospital life in a way I had not envisaged. At the end of six or seven months I was discharged as “in remission.”
That was about sixty years ago.
My parents were advised that I should go to the Forster Green Hospital where doctors specialized in treating tuberculosis with a mixture of “rest” and some surgery on the lungs. At that time I did not know that the chance of recovery was considered small, so I reluctantly accepted my position and hoped that the “rest” would bring about my recovery.
I waited with impatience on being given a bed in Forster Green Hospital. Many of my father’s friends came to visit and sympathize with the family. One day two ladies were visiting my home. Unfortunately I overhead one of them whispering to her friend, “You know he is expected to die soon ?” This was a moment of truth for me. I never had contemplated that. I had expected to get better through time and rest. I thought my persistent cough would soon go away and leave me to pursue my life as I wished.
I had been spending a lot of time reading my Bible. One old man who came regularly to see me told my father that his son had a very strong and peculiar interest in the scriptures. “There was a reason for this”, he said and he promised to use his influence to get me a place in Forster Green Hospital. Frank Knox, a very forthright evangelical Brethren preacher, came to see me. He found me reading the book of Daniel. I remember his comment. “Oh that is too deep for me.” I assured him that I found that reading Daniel and understanding it were two different things. As a result of my knowledge of the scriptures I knew about a man who had been advised that he was going to die. The man, Hezekiah was sick unto death. He received a message through a prophet,
“Set thine house in order; for thou shalt die, and not live.”
The story is told at length in 2 Kings 20:1-7. Hezekiah turned his face to the wall, and prayed unto the Lord, saying,
“I beseech thee, O Lord, remember now how I have walked before thee in truth and with a perfect heart, and have done that which is good in thy sight. And Hezekiah wept sore".
I decided to follow Hezekiah’s example. I deliberately turned my face to the wall of the parlor room I was lying in and prayed for physical healing and for a longer lifespan. I wept sore most of that night. I eventually fell asleep not having seen any vision or felt any unusual presence, but I felt that I had acted according to the light I had then. The matter was now up to God. I felt at ease. I set a chair close to the right hand side of the bed and decided to reserve that chair for the Lord when he came to visit me.
I did not expect instant healing as I had been taught that sort of change did not happen nowadays. My father on one occasion had declared “Show me one healing and I will believe.” I could not show him one.
I decided that I would lay hold on the promise that Hezekiah got from God through Isaiah the prophet,
“Thus saith the Lord, the God of David, I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears: behold, I will heal thee: on the third day thou shalt go up unto the house of the Lord. And I will add unto thy days fifteen years."
I decided to ask for the fifteen years. I would be healed according to my faith. So each day I started to read and pray expecting my body to resist the disease and gain new life. Soon I was in the Forster Green Hospital and found that all I did was rest and sleep.
The entire hospital was given over to patients suffering from tuberculosis. There seemed to be little respite. In the next bed to me a real Christian man coughed every day until his lungs gave up. I wondered why I seemed to be getting better and my friend was going downhill. I never knew until then that every hospital has a morgue.
Despite the conditions all around, I found myself at peace. The future was already promised. So during the next six months I found myself content to wait until the promise was fulfilled and enjoyed hospital life in a way I had not envisaged. At the end of six or seven months I was discharged as “in remission.”
That was about sixty years ago.
