A Church Having Fun?

I grew up in the Catholic faith in Pimlico, where as a boy I was already acquainted with the vast cavern of nearby Westminster Cathedral, home of the Cardinal of London, second only to the Pope himself and therefore head of all Catholics living in the UK. I could say that he is equal to the Archbishop of Canterbury, head of the Church of England and second to the Monarch herself.

I was always taken back by the Cathedral, where Mum taught me from a very young age always to talk in whispers, so not to "decimate" the holiness of the sanctuary. The only thing I enjoyed doing was to light a votive candle and then place it at its proper place among the rows on the stand. Such a custom over countless generations could be the cause of the blackening of the high ceiling with what appears to be soot. Above the Altar, an enormous crucifix hangs from the ceiling, with a larger than life image of Jesus Christ painted on it, his head dropped over his chest in death.

The whole atmosphere conveys solemnity. Anything considered pleasurable is either frowned upon or considered sinful. Indeed, an abbey populated with chanting monks is seen as far more closely allied to the Christian faith than for instance, the thrilling joviality of a fun-fair spinner or roller-coaster. To miss Mass for a day trip to the seaside was, back in the fifties and sixties, considered a mortal sin and in danger of Hell. Therefore it was of no surprise that my late father ended up as an agnostic, a nominal Catholic who believed in the existence of God but had no time for organised religion. Especially from his schooldays, when at a convent school in Italy, he received a smack across his face by one of the nuns for taking Communion without first going to Confession.

When I first had faith in God on that rainy December Saturday evening in 1972, I couldn't help feel somewhat flabbergasted at a sight of a Bible within a pub! Yet even to my own surprise, I felt no guilt or embarrassment as I read aloud the verses shown to me. Yet throughout the seventies, I read of Christian evangelists and itinerant preachers making a stand against going to the cinema, attending a ballroom or entertaining a party spirit. I even found out that watching sport on a Sunday was frowned upon and television was held in low esteem. I recall one Pentecostal pastor forbidding TVs in the homes of his followers. He often made random calls to their homes to ensure that his edict was followed and upheld. Little surprise that men of my age cracked jokes behind his back about "Quick! Hide the TV!" as the set was shunted into a cupboard as the pastor walks in. As for me, I was ready for a showdown if he ever walked into my apartment. My TV stays put! Little wonder that I left his small church after only a couple of weeks.

Indeed, I might have walked out of Westminster Cathedral but Westminster Cathedral hadn't entirely left me. However, I came across one book back in the early seventies, The Liberation of Planet Earth, by Hal Lindsey (who also wrote the better-known book Late Great Planet Earth). In his first chapter, A Candidate for a Miracle, he tells of his search for God as a youngster, only to end up disillusioned with church altogether, making him an atheist. He was out with his mates one evening, in Houston, I believe, when they came across a coffee bar with a sign above which read, FREE FOOD. Underneath, in smaller lettering read, Jesus Saves.

"Come, let these Holy Joes feed us!" he called out as he entered the cafe. "It's the least they can do!"

By then, his anger with organised religion had reached his peak, a phenomenon I can easily relate to. After all, it was not Westminster Cathedral which brought me to Christ. Rather, it stood in the way and the churches which Lindsey attended looks to have done the same thing. All this was before his dramatic conversion to Jesus Christ as Saviour whilst on duty as a ferry master in New Orleans, followed by a call to attend Dallas Theological Seminary, one of the toughest colleges to accept new candidates as students. Yet he was accepted as a completely changed person.

But it was the idea of "religious people" running a coffee bar which intrigued me. As I have always understood, the church was more of a monastic environment, secluded from any "worldly" fad such as a coffee bar. It was both after getting acquainted with the Bible and attending Bracknell Baptist church from 1975 onwards when Westminster Cathedral slowly began to lose its grip.

On paper, the idea of a not-for-profit coffee bar which is free at the point of use seems a terrific one! The snag, I'm sure, lies in the funding. Sure enough, with charity status, maybe an outlet can be hired rent-free, and all the staff being unpaid volunteers, yet how such a shop could still function beats me. Perhaps all that was quite common back in the forties and early fifties when Hal Lindsey was in his prime. The one who always recited, Live fast, die young and leave a good looking corpse, took these Holy Joes for granted as if they featured in the streets of every city, and like today's Starbucks or Costa Coffee, they were a common sight.

Therefore for the first time, I must have set foot in America during the post-free-coffee-bar era, in 1977. Because even then, I did not see a single "Free Food, Jesus Saves" coffee bar at all, no matter which city I visited. Perhaps the closest to a display of the Lord's name I came across was on the roof of what was otherwise an insignificant building overlooking a square in the city of Portland, Oregon.

I took this in Portland, Oregon, in 1977.

Yet nevertheless, when I consider the likes of preachers such as John MacArthur and Paul Washer, well-known American evangelists, both advocating Lordship Salvation, or the late, hate-filled Fred Phelps, former pastor of Westboro Baptist Church in Kansas, whose campaign was to warn homosexuals about their certain lost destiny, I do find it difficult to reconcile this style of preaching with having fun. I guess I must have grown up with a "repent or perish" resplendent of John Wesley, George Whitfield, or Charles Spurgeon.

But I do believe that God is God, the Almighty, and he can sow the seed of the Gospel in any way he prefers, or how he sees fit. And so, every year we at Ascot Life Church host the Fun Day at a school field nearby from the Life Centre building, the home of the church. It's basically a fete, but one with a difference. That is, all food and drink stalls are free, along with bouncy castles, bouncy-slides, targets, skittles, etc, all free, including the main feature, barbecued pork roasting on a spit. I have attended all of these Fun Days since they were first inaugurated a few years ago. At first, football and cricket were organised, with myself taking part in the cricket (but not the football). Then lately the attention began to be more focused in the fete itself with all its attractions.

I guess this is a reminiscence of the "Free Food" coffee bars of 1940's America. When he visited, Lindsey was not actually converted in any of these bars. Instead, he felt contempt towards the volunteers as he and his mates took advantage of their generosity. But I'm convinced that a seed was sown into his heart while he was there, even if his attitude remained unchanged after he had left the bar. Because it was sometime later, during the night, when he was master of a New Orleans ferry plying the River Mississippi when he felt a compulsion to suddenly steer the boat a sharp turn. It was after realising that he had just missed a potentially fatal collision with another vessel when he knew that his sudden manoeuvre was by divine intervention. It was this which finally converted him.

I guess it's easy for the likes of the past great revivalists to look down from heaven with contempt at our Fun Days. And perhaps by other churchgoers who still traditionally keep religion and pleasure as mutually exclusive. Maybe they would love to approach us and with an element of a sneer, ask,

"Well, how many souls were saved today?"

I love to say, well actually, quite a number were saved today.

If only. But I reckon only God know why that doesn't happen. It's about sowing the seed of the Gospel. Indeed, there is the possibility of one turning to Christ right there on the spot. That would be most likely caused by a seed sown earlier at another occasion. Paul the apostle already had the seed of Christ sown in his heart before his conversion at the Damascus Road. It was that seed already in his heart which he fought against, causing him to "Kick against the goads" (Acts 26:14). Before he was converted, this Pharisee already had an idea who this Jesus of Nazareth was.

Our Fun Days is about sowing the seed of the Gospel of Christ to all who turn up. And this involves prayer. Prayer for the seed to be sown to anyone who would receive it. But, and maybe, unfortunately, prayer for good weather as well. Here in the UK, we have a cool temperate climate. That means it rains in June, while dry sunshine dominates Mediterranean lands. Britons are reputed to "tough it out" in wet or lousy weather. Indeed, even with a threat of rain, people may still turn up in droves. But we are not too keen on getting wet and chilly ourselves! Hence prayer is essential.

Fun Day, taken 2017, which appeared in church literature.

Free food is the focal point with the fete. This is tied in with the free gift of the grace of God. It was Jesus who offered free living water to the woman of Samaria (John 4). One example of believers gathering together for a meal is found in Acts 2:46-47. Then God himself invites all to come, eat and drink freely, without money and without price (Revelation 22:17). It does look as though the seed sown into the heart is by way of the stomach.

The organisation is done voluntarily by regular churchgoers at Ascot Life Church. There are teams to set up, to run each stall, to supervise and monitor each of the attractions, to mind the car park, to be part of the welcoming team, and most importantly, to keep the prayer tent ongoing. There are those responsible to take everything down again after the fete is over. But whatever responsibility each member has, each one of us cherishes the hope that one day the seed of the Gospel planted in someone's heart will germinate into a rebirth of the spirit and enjoy eternity in God's presence.