Small Town? Not for God, It Isn't

One of the joys in life I can be so thankful for was independent travel. This included Italy, Israel, Canada, United States, Singapore and Australia. And of course, within the United Kingdom itself. And somewhere between a bustling city such as Rome or New York and a Natural World Wonder -such as the Grand Canyon or the Great Barrier Reef, is the small town which is often untouristic. 

The small towns I have called at were often by the coastline, such as Herne Bay in New South Wales, or Monterosso al Mare, in the Cinque Terre area of the Ligurian coastline of Italy. Back in 1981, whilst stopping at a hotel in Viareggio, I was strolling along the beach when this local, an elderly fisherman, suggested visiting Cinque Terre, one area I have never heard of. I can get there by train, so he said, by changing at La Spezia for a local train to Monterosso. He was right. Had I remained on board the train from Viareggio, it would have hurtled through Monterosso Station whilst on its way to Genova.

Back in 1981, Monterosso was unknown to tourists. It was a rugged small town perched on the cliffs of the Cinque Terre coastline, itself the chief over four more, even smaller villages perched among the rugged cliffs, hence the name Cinque Terre. But at Monterosso itself, this was pristine Italy without any shops selling tourist tat or trinkets, postcards or whatsoever. As far as I can remember, there was not even a currency exchange (back then the Italian currency was the Lira.) And speaking English? Not a soul in Monterosso would understand the language. However, the town looked old, almost to the point of crumbling, yet was striking, mainly due to its setting. Unfortunately, Cinque Terre had lately become a popular tourist spot, as it is now.

Monterosso al Mare, Italy. Visited August 1981. 

What a contrast Monterosso was to the modern settlement of Herne Bay on the Australian Pacific coast, where I stopped for two or three days in 1997. This small town was rather drab, unexciting. This cluster of low buildings consisting mainly of residences and a shopping mall, along with plenty of hotels and backpackers hostels, and the town swarmed with mostly young tourists. So why this otherwise unexciting place so contrasting with Monterosso in 1981? Simple. Herne Bay is the gateway to Fraser Island, the world's largest natural sandbank and the home of the world's cleanest body of freshwater, Lake McKenzie, the venue where the BBC documentary Living with Dinosaurs was filmed. The constant flow of tourists in Herne Bay was only interested in visiting Fraser Island.

One small town which struck me in 1978 was Amarillo, Texas. The Greyhound Bus stopped here and I alighted, hoping to find a hotel to spend the night. It was late morning, the sun blazing down, yet the streets were deserted as if it was seven o'clock on a Sunday morning. What sort of place had I arrived at? As I walked along the streets empty of all pedestrians, passing shops which were closed and nothing of interest to be seen in the vicinity, I decided to abandon any attempt to find accommodation, to board the evening Greyhound Bus departing westwards, towards Flagstaff for the Grand Canyon. This Texan town was a grid of low buildings lining the streets, with just one fairly tallish office block sticking out like a sore thumb. Yet this very town became famous by Tony Christie's 1972 hit, (Is this the way to) Amarillo.

And as such, I now mention a Canadian town of Red Deer, Alberta. I have never been there, but in 1977, I wasn't too far away. One of my stops was at Calgary, directly to the south, as I travelled from Vancouver to Winnipeg, then on towards Toronto, where I was due to board a flight home.

It's thanks to advanced technology that I can now get a good view of Red Deer on the laptop, thanks to Google Maps. And what I could see of it, it was just a colder version of Amarillo. A grid of low buildings with a superstore here and there, surrounded by car parks. The image revealed that there were many cars parked around these plazas, thus showing some signs of life. But like with Amarillo, the streets were deserted of pedestrians. Even downtown Red Deer, of which 49th Avenue passes through, its scenery couldn't have been more of a ghost town than some abandoned midwest thoroughfare.

Areal View of Downtown Red Deer, Canada.

Therefore it might have been a degree of regret that I had never called there in 1977. What would I have seen? A different town to the present layout? At least the Greyhound Bus Station, midway on the route between Calgary and Edmonton, would have been close to the centre. I could imagine stepping out of the bus station building to see a moderately-priced hotel just a little way up the road. I walk in directly and ask whether there is a room. The Receptionist then hands me the key, that piece of metal of immense importance, and I settle in, dumping the luggage and slumping on the bed, drift off...

Oh, the benefit of Off-the-Street bed-hunting!*

Wind forward 43 years and what would I find? Well for starters, the Greyhound Bus station is merely an outdoor bus stop which had moved to 65th Avenue with 67th Street, way north of the Red Deer River which winds through the settlement, a little out of the town centre, which is itself south of the river. A crushingly dismal spot to alight if it's raining, to say the least! Immediately next to the stop on the Calgary-Edmonton route, I would be faced by the imposing doors of the Radisson Hotel, an expensive-looking pile too far out of the way from any point of interest. But if I had plenty of money to spare and decided that I was in no mood to bed-hunt elsewhere, I would then enter, only to receive an apology from the Receptionist with an explanation that an electronic pre-booked reservation is required. Unless I have a smartphone, I'll be buggered!

Let's assume I did have a smartphone. I'll probably sit in the Radisson Hotel lobby (if they let me) and with the phone, I would have to scan the list of alternate accommodation. One comes up, the Super 8 Hotel on 49th Ave and 43rd Street. A lot cheaper. And near to what appears close to some parklands. And not that far from the city centre. I contact them on the phone, asking whether there is a room spare for one person. Yes, there is, and a down payment is required. After a fairly long walk, tired and in need of a rest, and using a credit-card-like piece of plastic given to me at Reception, inappropriately called a "key" - I finally enter my room and slump on the bed, relieved. Oh, for the return of Off-the-Street hotel room requests! Why must technology make life so much more difficult?

But why have I given so much space to Red Deer? It's a small town within the Canadian prairie, just east of the Rockies mountain range. A drive of about 150 miles via Calgary would take you into Banff National Park, a beauty spot certainly worth visiting. But Red Deer itself?

It's because God is there, and there is good evidence that he is about to do work there shortly. He has called one of my friends, Dave Betts and his wife from Ascot Life Church, to settle at Red Deer and to become helpers at a small fellowship, Trinity Church on 53rd Street, and somehow help it grow in both numbers and spiritual maturity. An alliance between Ascot Life and Trinity churches will be established, and I personally feel privileged to be part of it, in full support.

Dave tells me through his blogs that there is a high proportion of drug users in Red Deer, making it a dangerous city. But could God work in such an environment? I'm convinced that he can and he will. If anything goes, this seems to be in line with God's character.

Red Deer reminds me of what the prophet Micah wrote about Bethlehem, acknowledged by God himself as a small and insufficient city in the Judean desert:

But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will rule over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.
Micah 5:2.

Here, talking about the birth of the Messiah, often known as the Christmas story, with Bethlehem chosen above Jerusalem or any other larger city in Israel to be the Messiah's birthplace. Bethlehem had already held a prophetic significance by being the birthplace and childhood city of King David, whose throne Jesus Christ will one day occupy in Jerusalem. If it can be said that a tender green shoot grew out of the parched ground in Bethlehem, to grow into a mighty tree which will nourish the whole earth, then why is the idea of a revival so surprising when arising from an insignificant Canadian town such as Red Deer?

Ancient Bethlehem might have looked like this...

This ties in well with Paul wrote to the church in Corinth, that God uses the foolish things in the world to confound the wise, to use the things which are not to bring to nought the things that are (1 Corinthians 1:26-29.)

Then there is the case of Jesse's eight sons, recorded in 1 Samuel 16:1-13. Samuel was certainly impressed with the firstborn, Eliab, with his height and good looks, with a proud heart and filled with self-confidence, something to boast about. But not before God. Six more brothers stood in front of Samuel, and all were rejected. Instead, God told Samuel to choose the last one, so insignificant compared to the rest, that his father did not even bother to call him from his shepherding duty until Samuel ordered him to do so.

I see a definite similarity between Dave Betts and the Apostle Paul when it comes to being well-educated. Both have good schooling. But here Paul writes:

But what things were gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea doubtless, and I count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord: for whom I had suffered the loss of all things, and to count them but dung, that I may win Christ...
Philippians 3:7-8 AV. 

Paul had good schooling, a Pharisee, and a son of a Pharisee, yet he refers it all as dung, compared with the excellent knowledge of Christ. That is why Dave should take the same attitude towards his own schooling as the apostle did. The moment he starts thinking well about his background and pride creeps in, then the battle is lost. As for me who failed at school so long ago, I don't have much to lose. But I too wish for the excellence in the knowledge of Christ Jesus, as the apostle did, and I encourage my good friend and spiritual son of mine, Dave Betts, to do the same.

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*For more about Off-the-Street hotel experiences, go to one of my archives: Enjoyment-Disaster-Reminiscences by clicking here.