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Either Senility or Christianity.
The philosopher ‘Degas’
(1834-1917) says of Christianity, ‘Some men are born as Christians, some
are induced as Christians by others, and some become Christians almost by
accident, and as such, are surprised by the event over which they seem to have
no control’. The third statement seems to have mirrored my life over the last
few years.
The
last ten years of my working life where spent as a ‘Charge-Nurse’ attached to a
G.Ps surgery caring for patients in their own home. Many of these patients had
a terminal illness, and had chosen to die at home rather than in a hospital
setting. Not having any religious insight, I used to rage when, what to me,
were good honest people contracted a fatal illness and died long before their
expected ‘three score and ten years’. Whilst this ‘rage’ was always kept in
silent check, in respect for these people who approached death sometimes with
fear, some times with resignation, and occasionally with a quiet acceptance
that their death was only part of a journey yet to be completed elsewhere. The
last group scared the heck out of me, and with the poem ‘Do not go gentle into
that good light’ (Dylan Thomas) in my mind, I longed for them to share the line
‘Rage, rage against the dying of the light’.
I realise nowadays that part of my rage was, that they had moved away
from the need to depend upon the nursing team, for their earthly existence. I
did not have the nerve to openly curse God. (Well just in case, you never know,
there might be a ‘something’ out there etc.!), but I had no love or time for
God at all.
I
retired at 65 yrs on a Wednesday, and by the following Monday I was bored out
of my tiny mind. What on earth was I going to do with all this time? An advert
in one of the ‘free papers’ offered an ‘Access Course’ at ‘The University of
Wales (Lampeter)’. I took the required
‘credits’ in ‘Greek Mythology’, ‘Psychology’ and ‘Welsh History’ and qualified
to enter a joint degree course in ‘Information Technology’ and ‘Nineteenth
Century History’, which I am still doing. Whilst all this occupied Monday to
Friday, with Saturdays off for ‘slopping’ about, I could not find anything to
do on Sundays. Then almost like the cartoon, a ‘light bulb’ lit up in my
brain, “Living (them days) some ten
miles out of Aberystwyth, I thought that the four car journeys, plus two
sessions at some church or other, would occupy me fitfully for that day, and
that I could muse the day away. I did not want to know God; I did not want any
of that ‘religious hassle’ either. I
sought to lose myself within a large congregation. I could even take something
to read etc. Therefore I chose the largest church I knew of. St Michaels looked
big enough to allow me the anonymity I needed. Now my life was complete I
thought. If I had known then of the battle between Jesus and myself that was
shortly to erupt, I would have stayed at home, safe in my ignorance.
So
I sat in St. Mikes, Sunday after Sunday, wondering what on earth these
‘Christians’ were doing, and, may I add doing it with such enthusiasm as well.
The whole thing however left me cold, and the ‘Communion Service’ seemed a very
scary ritualistic ceremony. (The blood and body of Christ, I think not). I was
an outsider, and happy to be so, or was I? Someone in the church spoke of
an ‘Alpha Course’, that offered a
historical background to Christianity. I enrolled as a sceptic and was
determined that I could sort this lot out. How wrong can one be, the Alpha
course staff fed me and led me through a non-threatening series of talks, and
discussions in small groups with others, who were also fairly new to religion.
Whilst I might have felt like a lamb being taken to slaughter at first, I began
to look forward to these Tuesday evenings. This made it one down to the Lord.
Stewart then bribed me, (sorry, asked me really) to join a new ‘men’s cell
group’ each week in the vicarage. I really could not think of a polite way to
say thanks, but no thanks, so I went. Oh dear, there I was on one side with as
many as ten others who believed 100% in their faith on the other side. I
wriggled, I acted the fool, but these guys never wavered in their faith. Poor
Stewart was the piggy in the middle of all this and showed great calm and
restraint when I went too far. The end result of all these meetings, was yet
another point for our Lord. I was getting there; I felt that if all these guys
with their patience and kindness were right, then who am I to deny their faith
as misguided.
Gradually
I began to take a more active role in my worship at St. Mikes. I felt I was
becoming an integral part of the church. I felt the Lord was saying: ‘You can
become an active Christian here and now, or you can remain outside forever’. I
made the choice to follow the Lord.
Things came to a head when it was found I have a potentially dangerous
illness, which could yet still kill me. Naturally I went through all that shit
of ‘Why me etc’ ‘what have I done etc’ until my head was spinning with real and
imagined problems that were becoming harder each day to sort out. I was becoming
a pain in the butt to all and sundry. I
remembered Stewarts frequent advice that if we confess a problem, a sin, or a
worry etc to the Lord, then the Lord will take it all up, and we could then
move forward in our lives. So one night I knelt down in prayer, and said to the
Lord, ‘I can’t go on like this anymore, and I am asking you Lord to shoulder
these real and imaginary ills and problems. You take control’. In fact I
literally ‘dumped’ the whole problem onto Jesus that night, went to bed and
thought no more of it. Oh boy! When I awoke next day, I felt that, ill or well,
my problems were now shared problems, someone else cared what happened to me.
My ‘problems’ took on a more realistic character, I no longer felt so scared or
worried about ‘outcomes’. I felt that whatever happened to me was now the will
of the Lord. I then also realised that if you take from the Lord, you should
put back at least double. This lifted the last barrier to my full acceptance of
the Lord in my life.
Now
I knew at last, what St. Mikes and its congregation where all about. Prayer and
praise takes place seven days a week, and, not just on Sundays. To be given the
chance, even at my age, to accept the Lord fully into my life, is a ‘second
chance’ for me to reach a fulfilment in my life. I feel I have got more out of
faith than I have put in yet, so I am still on a journey of wonderful
exploration. An excellent ‘aid’ in this journey is reading the lives and works
of the 19th and early 20th century ‘Evangelists’ and the
history of the ‘Welsh Revivals’. Their struggle against the almost impossible
odds, and, their continuous faith in their ‘cause’ makes a ‘good read’ (Even
better, you can borrow the books from Stewart free!)
Old
‘Krusties’ like me are always trying to tell others how to live their life, and
I am no exception to that rule. My message to others out there is simply this.
If you have any doubts about your faith, enrol for an ‘Alpha Course’ (free
food), join a ‘Cell Group’ (good friendship), and let the super pastoral care
that St. Mikes offers wash over you. You will never regret it.
Ron Ellwood-Thompson.