Articles
U.K. Travelogue
Anyone who travels encounters not only diverse elements from his home environment but also insights and life lessons that, upon reflection, teach and inspire. Here are a few perspectives from our recent trip to the U.K. (in no particular order):
Clive Wilson. Clive and his family came to the King’s Cross congregation after we left London in 1994, but we have become acquainted with him through previous visits. Clive has been a London bus driver for many years. He was in attendance with his wife, children and grandchildren every service of the gospel meeting, and presided at one of the services (the presider directs the congregation in worship via announcements, song leading, calling for prayers, comments on the Lord’s supper, etc.).
Outwardly, Clive seemed like himself in every respect, but after we left London I received an email from him that revealed his diagnosis of advanced prostate cancer. The recommended treatment is surgical removal of the prostate, which is scheduled for July 5. Yet, Clive’s demeanor was upbeat though the treatment option had been decided the week before. Please remember the Wilsons in prayer as this traumatic development has undoubtedly brought a measure of anxiety to them all.
Question: How would you handle life-altering health news? Clive seemed to reflect Paul’s perspective: “Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day … We do not look at the things that are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal” (2 Cor 4:16).
The other Clive. There I stood in Tetbury, a small, picturesque town in the Cotswolds, looking at the flat left rear tire of our rental car. It was Saturday about 4:00 p.m. – just before everything in England closes for the day. The “boot” had no spare; our cell phone did not work (even though I activated international calling with Verizon beforehand); so we could not call the rental company, our cottage hostess Rowena or anyone else who could be of help. I didn’t know if there was a tire shop nearby, but if there was I couldn’t drive there with a flat. Worse, we were to worship in Oxford the next day, and worse still was that was our flight back to the States was Monday. The magnitude of our plight made us feel utterly helpless.
Then from out of the blue a voice said, “Do you want me to inflate that tire for you?” I turned to see Clive, who did not offer a last name. I responded, “Well, I think I’ve gashed the sidewall on a curb so it probably won’t hold air.” (Many country lanes in England are narrow and have low curb stones; navigating oncoming cars, bicyclists and especially lorries and coaches can be very tricky, and it is easy to run up on the curbs.) But Clive attached his battery-powered air pump, and the tire started inflating. However, leaking air was hissing past a large piece of metal impaled in the tread.
Clive thought I could make it to a local tire shop which didn’t close until 5:00; it was now about 4:20. I followed him to the shop which, true to British form, had decided to close early. The last mechanic was just leaving, but he did not think the tire was patchable. However, they both recommended another shop about five miles down the road – which also closed at 5:00 – that might be of help. That was a l-o-n-g five miles with a tire going down, but we made it just before closing time. The three mechanics still onsite were cordial, though I suspect they were not very amused by a Yank pulling in at closing time needing an emergency tire replacement. But they had the right size tire; they received authorization from the rental company to replace it and we were on our way in about 20 minutes at no charge (although we did tip the blokes £20 out of sheer gratitude).
Exhortation: Be a Clive. Clive could have ignored us, but he saw that we had a big problem (and probably our dejected body language) and he was willing to get involved. Christians are instructed throughout the NT to be engaged in good works, but perhaps nowhere more than in the short book of Titus: “zealous for good works”; “ready for every good work”; “careful to maintain good works” (Tit 2:14; 3:1, 8, 14). I don’t know if Clive is a Christian – most British folks are not spiritually inclined – but his timely act of benevolence sure relieved our despair. We may not realize how much stress we can alleviate in others by offering even the smallest assistance. And such acts of kindness and generosity might go a long way in opening a door of opportunity for the gospel.
Benson and Monday. During our visit with the church in Oxford, I mentioned the names of Shawn and Amy Willis to two of the African brethren. (The Willises were members here at Centreville several years ago, and Shawn served as a deacon; before that they spent four years in Oxford as Shawn worked on his PhD in physics.). Monday and Benson’s faces lit up as they proceeded to tell us what an encouragement the Willises had been to the congregation. The very chairs we sat in were a testament to their generosity. Their gratitude for Shawn and Amy was effusive and genuine.
Reflection: How would Centreville or another congregation you have been part of assess your tenure with them? Would they even know you were gone? Would they tell others of your contributions? The mark you are making on Centreville in the present is the answer to those questions.
Monuments to religious decrepitude. Melanie and I visited two different church buildings in Wales, and we have been in many more during our travels in the U.K. They all smell of mildew, have creaky wooden floors and, worst of all, are devoid of people. In one a flea market was going on (with admission fee), and the other was having a garden club meeting in the cemetery. The buildings had become mere social halls.
Warning: These are the smells and sounds of religious death. They are the embodiment of the very failures Moses warned Israel about if they stopped teaching true faith in God to the younger generation. They are also warnings of the effects of the social gospel philosophy. A church building is not a community service center; it is an expedient to edify Christians via Scripture, offer collective worship to God and preach the gospel to the lost. But when believers lose sight of their purpose and mission, a church building becomes a hideous mongrel of flesh and spirit, a dilapidated relic of dead faith and a monument to the abandonment of God. The light God wants us to shed in the darkness of this world is not through the mosaic of stained glass but rather the mien of a life transformed through Christ.
