Tuesday, 16 July 2013

How can't we sing the Lord's song in a foreign land?


It's odd but having just walked from the North pier to the South along the beach and promenade at Blackpool I feel like an alien; an outsider in the world in which I find myself contained,

Having walked past the couples with their tattoos, studs and Tee shirts with what is perhaps just a little too blatant an advert for world (don't talk - F*!$ me, being perhaps the worst in class - although their we're many close competitors), I find myself wondering what parallel dimension I now exist within, and how I got here.

I 've met people who are in need of a coffee (so bought them one) and being listened to (so I listened to them) and are in need of being removed from this place of shabby existence (so I told them about Jesus and His escape committee, of which I am a representative) and prayed for them and left, knowing there's more, sadly.

When the Bible talks about 'no longer being part of this world, of being strangers and sojourners in a strange land - only visitors, not residents', a passage I have often referred to, I had no idea that 'their' world had become so very different from the one I recall. I thought, perhaps naively, that the world I remember being part of and the world I inhabit in what is not a bad place at all (unless you believe some rags who proclaim it to be the fattest place in England that is) lies within the shallows compared to the depths of here.

In this alien territory where toddlers have 'WTF?' Tee shirts and women utter such language that a hardened mate lot would blush, the needs are immense and obvious. So where is the Jesus, the Christ, obvious (for I'm sure He is in the many other visitors from that other place here with me)? How can I see what I have, experience what I do and not have the compelling desire to preach that the Kingdom of God is with them, tattoos, expletives, alcohol, drugs, sex and all?

Ever had that moment when you realise that whatever it is that you do, it is not enough?

When you realise that somehow the Zombie invasion didn't, and isn't going to happen and that whilst bodysnatchers are just a fiction - those who snatch and destroy the soul exist and profit large?

Pray for those who bring the Good News to those in this alien land. Those who bring sight, hearing, freedom from captivity and proclaim the year of the Lord's favour.

Better still, become one.

I know that's what I want to be ;-)

Pax

6 comments:

Anonymous said...

Here is a quote from a history of John Wesley, relating his first visit to Newcastle, which I hope will encourage you:-

"On May 28th he reached Newcastle. He found that he had not come too soon. In his first walk through the town he says, “I was surprised: so much drunkenness, cursing, and swearing (even from the mouths of little children), do I never remember to have seen and heard before in so small a compass of time. Surely this place is ripe for Him ‘who came not to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.” He could find no one who appeared to care for religion.

"At seven o’clock on the Sunday morning, he walked down to Sandgate, the poorest and most contemptible part of the town, with his travelling companion, John Taylor. Standing alone at the end of the street, they began to sing the hundredth Psalm. Three or four people came out to see what was the matter. Soon the number increased to four or five hundred, and before the service was over twelve or fifteen hundred assembled. Wesley’s text was, “He was wounded for our transgressions; He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and by His stripes we are healed.”

"When the sermon was over, the people stood gaping and staring at the preacher in profound astonishment. Seeing their amazement, he said, “If you desire to know who I am, my name is John Wesley. At five in the evening, with God’s help, I design to preach here again.” At the appointed hour, the hill on which he intended to stand was covered from top to bottom. Neither at Moorfields nor at Kennington Common had he seen such an audience. Wesley knew that even his voice, strong and clear though it was, could not reach one half of this vast concourse; but he stood where he had all in view, ranged on the side of the hill. Then he explained and applied that promise, “I will heal their backsliding; I will love them freely.” Wesley had never received such a welcome as he found in the metropolis of the north. The poor people, he says, were ready to tread him under foot out of pure love and kindness. For some time he was quite unable to get out of the press. When at last he reached his inn, several people were waiting there who “vehemently importuned” him to stay at least a few days, or even one day longer. Wesley had promised to be at Birstal on Tuesday, so that he could not comply with their request. But about two months later Charles Wesley took his brother’s place. Before the year was out Wesley himself was with them again."

Needless to say, the situation has reverted to its original condition. However, the point is that God can bring change through His ministers, if He wishes.

Geordie


Vic Van Den Bergh said...

And, I think, He always wishes - so I guess the task is ours :-)

Thank you for the quote

V

Vic Van Den Bergh said...

And, I think, He always wishes - so I guess the task is ours :-)

Thank you for the quote

V

The Underground Pewster said...

The scene you describe could be seen at any of a number of beaches here in the U.S.

So were you wearing a dog collar and swimming trunks?

Vic Van Den Bergh said...

Sadly not - but that gives me a very 'Vic' idea for a photo :-)

Vic Van Den Bergh said...

Sadly not - but that gives me a very 'Vic' idea for a photo :-)