A Tender Shoot From Mud.

As I look back into my younger years, I could I ever forget those midweek evenings when I groaned inwardly at the thought of going back out after a busy day's work. Especially during the late Autumn or throughout the Winter when everything outside my apartment window was shrouded in dark, misty gloom, or the air pitted with a light but consistent drizzle, or the air biting cold from a north wind. And so I leave behind the warm, smug and homely environment, wearing a thick raincoat and leather gloves for a twenty-minute cycle ride to our local Baptist church, to pray.

Bracknell Baptist Church of the 1970s.

Only a small proportion turned up at those midweek meetings, compared to the building being full on a typical Sunday morning. Yet I felt obliged to go, anyway. Whatever the motives were back then - if it was because I wanted to believe that I was "spiritual" or because the rest of the church would have thought that I was just a Sunday "hanger-on" rather than an active member, or simply because it was the right thing to do as a Christian - or even believing that God would have been displeased with me for not exhibiting proper commitment.

Yet, in some of these meetings, I felt my spirit lift to the heights of sheer ecstasy, the exuberant feeling of being so close to God. But there were other meetings when I felt just bored out of my wits and wishing that I was at home or somewhere else. Although I tend to blame myself during those "dead" meetings, whether there was unconfessed sin lurking within, or whether I have nothing to pray about - which was usually the case - as there was no known sick person or anyone struggling, either which would have encouraged intercessory prayer. 

Being such an immature Christian didn't stop or impede me from reading the Bible, and that included both the Old and New Testaments. Understanding the overall picture might have been difficult from time to time, but one particular feature which stood out with remarkable prominence in the Bible, other than Jesus Christ himself, was the city of Jerusalem. And so, early in 1976, I made plans for an independent trip to the Holy Land specifically to visit this fascinating city, after backpacking Italy and having already gained some experience in lone travel. As such, I became the talk of the town, both at church and at my workplace. But, despite how impressed I was with those magnificent ancient ruins of il Foro, il Colosseo di Roma, and I scavi di Pompei, nowhere in Italy could match the exuberance of walking through those medieval streets of Jerusalem Old City, the Mount of Olives, and physically tracing the very footsteps Jesus must have taken.

Back at the church, a new kind of meeting was developed by the leaders, the house-group, which replaced the old prayer meetings. I thought that was a brilliant idea, as this had something of a resemblance of the early church under the administration of the apostles, especially Paul, which met in private homes. Having visited the ruins of private homes in Pompeii, this gave me a good idea of the environment in which the early church met. On any Mediterranean Summer's day, the spacious atrium, with the impluvium in the middle, a pool positioned to capture rainwater to supply the household, could have been the perfect setting for such a meeting, maybe as many as thirty people, all sitting or even reclining in a circle surrounding the pool. On cooler days, any of the larger rooms surrounding the atrium would have been ideal.

Our house-groups were a smaller version of these ancient Roman and Greek meetings, as most established churches here in the UK have too many people for all to meet at any one house. Therefore our church was divided into several midweek house-groups scattered around Bracknell. Each member attended the group nearest to where he lived, as each group was identified by the name of the district in which it was located. For example, the group I attended was known as the Hanworth house-group.

Was the most important feature of any house-group the coffee and biscuits at the end of the meeting? Maybe it was for me. And I think here I'm serious! The American definition of fellowship - "Coffee and Doughnuts" - at last, began to percolate into English churches, perhaps having crossed the Atlantic Ocean by visiting churchgoers returning home. And I'm pretty sure that any psychologist or sociologist would agree, that the way into a person's heart is often through his stomach. A small group meeting at a much warmer, cosier and homely environment than the formal, cold, spacious church building, would far more likely to turn nodding acquaintances into strong friendships. Thus, the opening up of the heart and sharing any issues not shared in a formal church environment, along with two or three engaged in private prayer, are all likely to encourage strong brotherly unity.

Atrium of a house in Pompeii

Even after the end of the Sunday service, nothing can be more beneficial than to remain behind for a while to greet one another, whether it's by a handshake or even a hug, and to share in each other's welfare, and if one is experiencing any form of struggle or hardship, to encourage or even engage in private prayer and Bible exhortation. Such building up of the faith is needed when feeling under a threat of any kind can leave both the giver and the recipient in a better state of mind. And with a hug, especially, is not only beneficial to the spirit but also does wonders to both physical and mental health.

Should there be a risk that I'm portraying church life as so sugar-coated that the elders are infallible and everything has always been hunky-dory within the fellowship, I thought of sharing a time I spent at a certain house-group around the 1980s. The fact is, as we're all prone to err while living in a fallen world, no church is perfect, and I have never expected any church fellowship to be perfect, yet, by God's love, grace and tender mercy, he's aware of my frame, along with those of all other Christians, and indeed, I, for one, have found myself to be in a dire situation, but again, I have learned since then not to feel any grudge towards anyone who may be prone to err.  

At the Hanworth house-group, one issue which our group leader seemed to have enjoyed was to divide us into several small groups and send us into the streets, door-knocking, with the intent of presenting the Gospel to any occupants who answered the door. This door-to-door tactic is the same used by Jehovah's Witnesses, and what's so dispiriting was that often the householder just didn't want to be disturbed in the evening if, after a day's work, wanted to spend time with his family or to watch an important or entertaining programme on television. Therefore, the risk of the door slamming shut at our faces, or receiving some hostile response, was very high. At least I can say that the typical Jehovah's Witness recruit is thoroughly trained by a senior member before allowed out into the streets. 

Just to divert here, and that is, door-to-door "evangelism" is not taught in the New Testament, nor does the Bible endorse such a practice. Rather, it's a misinterpretation of Acts 2:46 and 5:42, where Christians met in different houses (and nothing to do with door-to-door). These people who met in these houses were already believers, and visitors, such as the apostles, were invited into each house to teach, exhort and encourage. That is a far cry from the stress-inducing knocking on stranger's doors whilst fully aware of the chance of a hostile response.

But despite such mistakes made by the leaders or elders, or the unnecessary stress imposed by misinterpretations of Scripture, meeting together had always been very important in the life of a Christian believer. So much so, that many throughout history had put their lives at risk. For example, London was under the affliction of the Great Plague between 1665 and 1666. This plague killed around 25% of the London population (as compared with the 0.2% of the population under this present coronavirus pandemic.) During that time, while infection gotten from rats was rapidly spreading, many churches remained open despite the dangers, and they were all filled with worshippers, who also gave moral and encouraging support to each other during the plague. 

So says an article by Christian Concern and posted by a friend on Facebook. By comparison, our greater knowledge of the pathogen, and how it's transmitted from person to person, has caused panic to spread across the land, ushering national lockdowns, including the closure of all churches. Therefore, missing church attendance, physical worship and fellowship, including body contact, is like living in mud. Indeed, I didn't agree with everything Christian Concern came up with, including a hint that salvation is gotten by works of bravery rather than by grace through faith in Jesus Christ, and a further hint, through another misinterpretation of Scripture (Revelation 21:8) that all cowards are most likely to be shut out of heaven, nevertheless, there were some good points brought up by the article, namely, that the churches of the past who remained open and welcomed worshippers during a severe plague - was a great credit to the Christian faith.

With the present situation of lockdowns, self-isolation, and no Christian daring to call or be welcomed at another Christian's home, no church meetings, no body-contact, the feeling of loneliness - especially among singles, even a telephone call is an extreme rarity, and so the Christian life resembles a patch of mud, an area where nothing grows, but instead, liable to suck in any foot which steps onto it, making any attempts to walk across as an energy-draining effort which saps all goodness from the leg muscles and thus impedes his journey to his destination.  

But modern technology has sowed a seed into the mud, and the seed took root and a green shoot of a tree springs up. This sapling represents Zoom, and I for one is thankful that it now exists. For not only through my laptop which I can tune in to our virtual services each Sunday, but to a certain extent, we can interact at a Zoom meeting straight after the service. Likewise, there is a Zoom prayer meeting held every weekday morning, and I join this meeting through the computer screen. At least, right now we're able to talk to each other and communicate, which makes a big difference.

But as the sapling is still surrounded by mud all around it, there is still none of this face-to-face intimacy of a physical meeting, but I guess I need to be thankful to God for allowing technology to flourish at the right time in history through man's brain which God has originally created.