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Editors Testimony
I was born in a railway house in South Western Terrace,
in Currock, Carlisle, but most of my childhood and youth
was spent living in Upperby.
I attended the Upperby Church of England Primary and
Junior School and then on to Robert Ferguson Secondary
Modern and I attended St Margaret Mary, Catholic Church,
with my mother.
I was aware of the sectarian divide as a child and it made
no sense to me then and it makes no sense to me now.
Ecumenism was in me from an early age.
As regards junior school, my most profound memory was being introduced
to a depth of fear that I can still recall. The headmaster was also a respectable ‘christian’ magistrate and a more unsuitable man to work with children I cannot imagine. To introduce a child to such a haunting fear of authority, would by today’s standards be classified as abusive.
My most powerful memory of Secondary Modern School was being introduced to shame. Another respectable teacher abusing his authority to ridicule, demean and shame a boy who had stepped out of line. Such experiences have had a haunting echo in my life.
What’s all this to do with anything? It seems to me to be a great pity that good people, doing good work are tainted by the failures of some sad colleagues. Then again, why didn’t they stop their bullying colleagues?
To avoid being expelled I found myself apologising to another teacher who had mentally and emotionally abused me. I confronted him with his cowardly bullying and then the system pulled together, to defend the teacher and I, the victim, had to apologise, or end up being expelled shortly before taking my ‘o’ levels. It introduced me to another kind of injustice and choices. I bowed to authority and to my concern for how my actions would affect my parents, who wanted the best for me. Looking back, whatever gain my ‘O’ levels gave me, robbed me of something else, more precious.
That was then and I was a boy. Now I am a man with all the usual compromises, failures and successes behind me (more failures than successes) and I find myself in a Christian community where I observe a fair share of the same mentality of domineering lunatics running the asylum.
I returned to Jesus at the age of 40. It was a strange course that took me into a Pentecostal Church. Circumstances and an ecumenical heart caused me to visit many churches over the years. Without a doubt some of the most sincere and kindest people I have met in my life have been found in the churches. Unfortunately sprinkled in the good soil are some powerful and robust weeds dominating their particular corner of God’ plot.
Perhaps there is a pattern, a script I can’t avoid playing out, but here I am again finding myself abused by the authorities I find myself at odds with and I am still inadequate to change, or undo their damage. Not just because of my campaigning against the occult in Carlisle, but also in daring to challenge the Christian status quo as regards the failure to practise what they preach.
Someone once said that ‘you can’t beat the system’, but the truth is that some people do, but I haven’t.
I have to consider that God has allowed it, but I know that what God allows is not necessarily what God wants. Just because I am a victim of abuse, does not make me wrong.
Thank God for the men and women who manage the Christian religion. Someone has to do it, but for so many of them to be allowed do it so badly and so self righteously makes one wonder about God’s presence in their plot of God’s garden. I have also been blessed to meet men and women who are still teaching me by example, as well as by the Word and I am very grateful.
I have been abused by the obvious nutters for God, the loud mouthed, arrogant self righteous. I have also been abused by the articulate and highly educated, so called ‘liberals’.
I presently regard the so called ‘liberal christians’ as the most dangerous because of the false manner in which they assume a ‘liberal’ pose, but are as fundamentally opposed to fundamentalist (Bible believing) Christians, as any other bigot is about anything.
Many Christian leaders have encountered the words of Jesus, but they have not met with Jesus. They analyse his words, but articulate their own reasoning. They are not messengers of the divine.
Anyone who has read this so far is probably thinking that this is not the usual kind of testimony. Aren’t we supposed to sweep the bad news under the carpet and just keep praising God? I’ll leave that kind of lunacy to others, while I praise God in truth. I want the truth, because the truth does set me free and truth is who Jesus is and truthful, in love, is what Jesus wants us to be.
It is a testimony to the power of the Holy Spirit in my life that my relationship with God through Jesus Christ has been strengthened by my experiences and not corrupted by it.
At the age of 39 I began seeking for a way to lead the rest of my life, since what I had wasn’t an attractive way to continue living.
I was introduced to the Jehovah’s Witnesses. I still have a fondness for them, even though I do not believe their particular brand of the God product. They have an attractive belief in the next life and they all sing from the same hymn sheet. At least there is some integrity in their solidarity of belief. They also are not ashamed to speak to others about what they believe.
In my search for truth I found myself ‘rescued’ from the Jehovah Witnesses by some Protestant evangelists. More sincere people, who squeezed me through their particular filter and then passed me on to a Pentecost al Church.
For about 18 months I actually enjoyed church. If it was on, I was there. The ‘Toronto blessing’ had impacted upon the church and there was a real sense of optimism and expectation. I became enthralled with the possibilities of serving Jesus Christ. I was introduced to evangelism and its joys. I was ‘born again’, and ‘on fire’ for God.
I’d look for any opportunity to share my faith. People were amazed at the change in me. A new creature in Christ. Hallelujah!
The paint started to crack on the religious gloss as I observed the behaviour of some of my fellow believers. Something didn’t quite square up with what I was being taught and talked and what was actually being practised.
I had no sooner elevated myself to a condescending position of Spiritual superiority, when the tempter came knocking on my door. Trying yo be a Christian meant that I had weaned myself off some well established habits, but because I was still a complex chemical being, I still had the needs and the desires that we are all created with and that grow in a healthy human.
The heart is deceitful above all things, Surely a little fall from grace every now
and again would not do me much harm? Of course not, but sin is sin is sin. I played
some theological gymnastics, but I was hurting a close friend -
Knowing oneself, instead of fooling oneself is part of God’s grace. I knew I had to change course and I did and Jesus has always helped me. 2 Corinthians 12:9
My dilemma at the time had been confused by a third party in the form of cult ‘christianity’ that my spirit eventually rejected. In rebelling against man’s religious extremes, I also found myself confused as regards the Spirit. The Spirit however, would not abandon me and I was delivered from both the temptation and those who sought to control me, my spirit and my soul.
The Church needs to be real about its struggle and not pretend that we are superhuman beings. I have not known a Christian who wasn’t struggling, with one weakness, or another.
We should promote God’s grace, more than whatever self righteousness we might command against sin.
By this time I had begun an ecumenical magazine. I had started a social club called Christian Connections and organised ‘Unity’ concerts for the local Christian musicians to perform and even a Christian dating agency to help the many single Christians find more friendship. Some people even ended up married.
My preferred Christian activity was going out on to the streets of Carlisle and telling people about Jesus. It was a great blessing to me and who knows, maybe to some other folk.
My ecumenical magazine was immediately condemned by some of my Protestant fellows, but my heart was for ecumenism as no teaching that I had encountered had resonated more with my soul then I Cor 12 and 13.
The vision was ‘all one in Christ Jesus’ and people working together,
and so it was for a year or two, but it didn’t last. I had not understood
the ‘Church’ and its powerful forces locked in what seems like mortal
combat, smiling and preaching love with their hands around each other’s
throats. A caricature, of course, but it makes a point. I have ended up a
one man band. A bit of an amusement for some people, but I’m still
banging the drum and the magazine and this web site continues.
As for me, my own failings and the failings of even the teachers of
theology supported my increasing reliance upon grace and grace alone.
Besides my own failings paled alongside some of the gossip I was hearing and some of the things I was witness to.
Maybe one day I will write in a book what I could not write in my magazine. Of course with names and places changed to spare the blushes. Unless ‘Church’ and religion gets truthful about its struggle and God’s grace, the world will continue to look on bemused by our peculiar contradictions.
Falling and picking myself up and sometimes needing a hand from God I stumbled on. What came next, still haunts my life and will until I have come to terms with what I presently and for many years have been unable to.
Carlisle’s Millennium Project.
How could Christians, but especially the leaders allow a pagan god to be placed upon the city’s Millennium logo? How could they allow a curse to be written in stone, especially when it misrepresented the gospel of Jesus Christ, because the curse was laid by an Archbishop who had lost the plot? A handful of leaders spoke out, independently.
Eight years after the horror of it all I am still outraged by it. It offends me and I know that it offends the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.
Because I was offended and I spoke out I was abused by the authorities. Yes, history repeating itself.
I even found myself apologising for my vigour in seeking a proper and proportionate representation for my Jesus. After all, if those with doctorates and every kind of official status, not only disagreed with me, but were prepared to condemn me, how could I be right?
The press and some church leaders, an MP, local councillors and even some people who I once respected, condemned me. Would you have been affected? I was. I felt like a little boy again. Confused and struggling to cope. Frightened and I felt very alone. It’s a loneliness that hasn’t been far away from me and in such a place one sees more clearly, oneself and others.
I had been flooded out of my home that I had just spent 12 months renovating and
I was struggling with insurers, builders, surveyors and my faith. I had been misrepresented
-
Even as I write this my heart pumps with the injustice of it all. The Millennium
Project has exposed much about my faith and the religion of others -
Once again, this isn’t the usual testimony. My weakness and lack of faith expose me as a poor witness at times and of course it isn’t very macho to admit one’s hollow moments.
However, my faith is undoubtedly deeper because of the experience, but I would have preferred the training to have been spread more gently over fifty years rather than a handful. It has been a lot to cope with.
Yet here I am. For Christ. Unashamed of the gospel. Boldly expressing my faith to whoever crosses my path. Seeking ways to serve my Jesus. Confronting the authorities of this dark world, with the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Through out my particular journey so far I have also been loved, cared for, befriended, helped, advised, forgiven, acknowledged and been provided for in many ways. This is by God’s grace.
Of course there has been a lot more, but today, what I have written, is because of today. And tomorrow, who knows what part, or what way, it will be written?
Happy days, busking the ‘good news’.