My Journey to the Local Church, and beyond...

[NeitherFirstnorLast]

Saints, I have only recently found this site, but surely it has been the Lord's provision. As of today, January 5th 2010, still participatory in the LSM trade-marked Church Life here in my locality; but I do not know how much longer this will continue. I've been wrestling for two and a half years over the unique ministry we have, certain that the issue was with me and not with the ministry... and I don't feel that way anymore. You will forgive me if I don't yet post my proper name, to protect my family from any practical prosecution as many of you have unfortunately already experienced by the LSM leadership.

I was born in Canada 39 years ago, to loving parents both of whom emigrated from Germany as children with their own families. My parents had themselves been raised in only nominally Christian (specifically Lutheran) homes, and were not themselves Saved Believers - but they determined that my younger sister and I would have "more than they had", as my father would later put it. Seeking to build a faith in me which they themselves lacked, they saw to it that I made the habit of saying my prayers at night, and spent my Sundays in a Sunday School at our local Lutheran church. The Lutheran Church I attended from approximately age 8-14 was where I learned more about the dogma and doctrine of the Lutheran Church, and about Christendom - but if I am to be honest, then I must confess that I learned very little about the Person of Christ.

I attended classes, I memorized the orders of the books of the Bible, I colored pictures of Jesus, I even visited a Synagogue and celebrated Passover, but I do not remember hearing the gospel message spoken, I do not recall anyone who put the Name of ‘Jesus Christ’ and ‘Lord’ together. In fact, I can testify that it wasn't until I had already gone through my confirmation classes and participated in my first communion and began serving as an Acolyte that I began to realize that after all of this study, I still did not feel as though I knew what it meant to be a Christian.

The "Christianity" I saw in my own home was about Christmas trees, Easter eggs, and Highway to Heaven episodes. There was a superficiality about it that I could clearly see, and it left me unfulfilled.... I had been given a Bible by my church, and I knew that everyone said it was the Word of God. That being the case, I knew It had the authority to teach me what I wanted to know, and so I determined to read it to find out what it really meant to be a Christian.

Saints, I probably don't need to tell you that to one who is unsaved, the Bible can be a very mysterious thing - our eyes are closed and the truth is veiled. I can tell you honestly that I plainly did not understand much of what I read - and I read faithfully, determined to know the Truth. When I stumbled at a difficult passage, I would go first to my parents ("Mom, WHY would the Angel of God wrestle with Jacob and hurt him? Why would God demand that babies be circumcised - that's mutilation!" etc.) - but since they had never read the Bible nor received the Lord as their Saviour, they couldn't answer my questions. As I made my way through the Bible, my confusion grew - I did not have the discernment to understand what I was reading, and by the time I reached the Book of Revelation, I was terrified. I grew up sensitive to the precarious condition of the world around me - during the Cold War, the Iran Contra affair, during the height of tensions between East and West. I had long been horrified by the prospect of a third world war - and here in the these last pages those fears seemed borne out. Looking for answers, I went to my Pastor.

My Pastor was a dear man, and I've no doubt that he would have answered me if he could. Sadly, when I asked him what the Book of Revelation meant, he said only "We don't ever preach from that book." He was being honest. Most of the sermons in our church building were about church finances and good works. I was completely shattered. His admonition confirmed my worst fears - Christianity (what I knew of it at the time), was a sham - a make-believe religion where everyone claimed to believe the Bible was the Word of God, but nobody cared enough about it to read it. Where everyone said nice things to eachother's faces, but spoke gossip behind their backs. Where those who did read the Bible didn't understand it any better than I did. I determined that I was done with Christianity.... but Praise the Lord, Christ wasn't done with me.

How many believers did the Lord gain by their simply getting in the Word? The Living Word of God, breathed out by Him, which is sharper than any two-edged sword, able to divide soul from spirit? He knew that I was honestly seeking Him, and though my eyes were not yet unveiled, He knew the time and place to gain me.

At 17 years of age I had drifted from the church I used to attend and the company I used to keep. I was not mixed up in a bad crowd, but I wasn't mixed with a God crowd either. There were events in my life going on (though strangely, none I can honestly particularly recall), that the Lord would use to bring me to my knees. One night, lying in my bed and considering my miserable condition, I wept and cried out to the Lord for hours. The gospel message I'd read and re-read in the Gospels had been etched in my heart, and I turned now to it for solace and cried out to the Lord Jesus for Salvation. Saints, it seemed I wept for hours - but when I called, He came. That night I felt the Holy Spirit touch me, and I knew Jesus Christ was real!

Saints, I wish I could say my story ends there - and from 17 on I marched on as a confident and conquering man of Christ. But I cannot. The truth of it is, while my Salvation that night was very real, it was also about to put me directly in the line of fire. The Lord was faithful. Although I was Saved not through the prompting or fellowship of a brother or sister in Christ, He put true believers in my path. Sadly, my past experience with many so-called Christians made me distrustful of them - and the Enemy used this as a tool against me. I rejected fellowship with others, thinking my own relationship with the Lord was not only enough but more real than anything they could offer. I was the sheep who rejected the fold - and my wandering would leave me easy prey for the wolves. Within a year I was 18, and well on the way to making a real mess of my life.

As the years passed, one hurtful episode after another followed me. The Enemy seemed ever to whisper in my ear, and I wandered further and further from the Lord. I was convinced in my heart that the Lord had come to Save me, but I wasn't worthy of that Salvation. I believed I had no right to speak to Him anymore - He could not possibly want a filthy wretch like me. Outwardly, I denied Him - but inwardly - I would quietly mumble my thanks for the mercy He showed me. I remember the day after my first child was born, crying and calling out to Him on the way to the hospital. "Thank You Lord," I wept "thank You for giving me my baby! I am so sorry Lord!". I was blessed, saints. I was blessed with a wife, and children, and a comfortable house to live in. Always He worked to Shepherd me, it seemed. I'd been working in a bar for a while, when I met my wife - but He saw to it that my environment was changed - and somehow I found a new job cooking at a Mennonite Bible College. We moved out to the country, and He provided us a house at an incredibly low rent that a Hutterite colony owned... and again I saw the testimony of other believers.... Always He was moving and working. Oh Lord Jesus, thank You for never giving up on me! We began to attend a church again - this time at a Lutheran/Anglican church. The fact that it was Lutheran was what drew me, as it seemed at the least a familiar name... but alas, it would also have a familiar spirit.

This church, the first I'd attended regularly since my teens, was a church made up of a mix of Lutheran and Anglican adherents. The two groups were too small to be independent, and so they had pooled their limited resources and met together at the Anglican building. Both groups had their own Pastor, and my wife and I really hit it off with the Lutheran Pastor. He was a fine man, seemed devoted to his congregation, and we were drawn in and participated. I cooked for pot-luck dinners, my wife helped downstairs with the children in Sunday School, and we listened to sermons on good works and how to treat your fellow man. When the Anglican Priest spoke, he would speak quietly, not meeting our eyes. We heard him say things like "You will be surprised who you see in heaven. There will be Christians, but there will also be Jews and Muslims and Buddhists - and even atheists will be there. It doesn't matter if you come to church or don't... it's about a loving God..." Or things like "homosexuality is just another type of love - and God IS love." This Priest looked more uncomfortable saying these things than I did hearing them, but it didn't stop him.... and we started skipping the Sundays we knew he'd be speaking.

Some of the church elders, enjoying our fellowship, asked if I'd be interested in joining the church board at that time. I was flattered, but surprised. I was by far one of the youngest attendants - save only the children - and I reasoned within myself that I couldn't possibly accept such a position - although I felt truly called to it. I remember that well. I was very conflicted. I couldn't believe I could do it, but I felt I should - even I felt I had to... but I didn't. I didn't, and time ran out.

A month after I rejected the offer to join the board, we received the news that our Lutheran Pastor was going to be moving to Saskatchewan to join his wife - who had been elected as Bishop. I was distraught, as he was a man I at least felt comfortable 'exploring' my faith with. His departure would effectively terminate the agreement between the two churches, and it would mean that we would have to vote on our fate. Our options were three: Consolidate as a single congregation under the remaining Anglican Priest, migrate as a group to a liberal United Church down the street, or open the church to the application of new Pastors, be they Anglican or Lutheran. I knew what I had to vote to do, but I was surprised by the outcome. Perhaps I shouldn't have been.

When the time to cast our secret vote came, it was decided that it ought to be unanimous. I discussed my vote with no one other than my wife, who spent her time with the children in any case, and hadn't been upstairs to hear the sermons I'd heard. I felt it would be as clear a vote to the rest of the congregation as it was to me. I voted as I felt lead - to open the congregation to a new Pastor - and my wife, following my headship, did the same. Only one other in the whole congregation voted likewise. The other thirty votes were to keep the Anglican Priest who seemed so... lost, as our leader. It's heart-breaking, really. Had I listened to that still, small voice and joined the board, perhaps I could have fellowshipped with others about the state of this man's faith. This Priest needed our prayers and help - and no one reached out to him to give it, because he was the one elected and paid to help us... but he couldn't. I don't think he even knew what he believed.... A second vote was cast, and again I prayed that more people would have the courage to stand, seeing as three of us did, on the side of Truth... but the 3rd vote was recanted, and my wife and I stood alone. It was the last time my family went to that church.

Two more years passed. By now the Lord had blessed us with a house of our own, on a beautiful achreage in the woods - a one hundred and ten year old rectory set beside a preserved, but closed, Catholic church in a true ghost town. It was our dream home. Oh, Lord Jesus, how generous You are Lord. You are the everlasting God, and we love You Lord! At this time of my life, I still did pray in thanks to Him - and I felt ever called to do and be more for Him... I prayed with my children, and I read them some Bible stories... and I had been reading from His Word again myself, and listening to the likes of Dr. Woodrow Kroll of Back to the Bible on the radio, and very occasionally Dr. Charles Stanley - although I felt convicted when I listened to him, often... still living a very worldly life. Oh, Lord Jesus.

I worked as a salesman, and the Lord blessed my work. My success fed my ego, and when the conditions at my workplace began to deteriorate, I began to believe that I could do better. I began to actively seek employment working directly for a manufacturer as a product rep - and I approached the company I believed to the best in the industry. Without fellowship or a prayer, I contacted them and began to write answers to questions on their on-line end-user Q&A forum. After the first three answers, they began to publish my responses. By my fifth answer, they contacted me and asked me if I wanted a job - offering me positions in Long Beach, Richmond, or Houston. My wife loved our house and her horses, and did not want to leave for the States, so I asked about a position in Canada. The next day I received a job offer, as Regional Manager.

Saints, how many people do you know who are smart enough to pray to the Lord before taking a job, and then stupid enough to disobey His clear speaking on the matter? If you've never met one before, you have today. I am the one. I prayed to Him "Lord, should I take this job?". You know what He said? He said "DO NOT TAKE THAT JOB.", and He said it so loudly that I jumped. I literally jumped. I could not believe that I heard the voice of God so clearly! "God doesn't speak to people like that!" I thought, but you know what? EVERYTIME I prayed about it, I got the same response. And everytime, I thought "Naw, it's got to be me.... I must just be nervous.... I can do this job! This is gonna pay great!" Oh what a fool I was.

The job would require travel - I would cover Thunder Bay Ontario through to Vancouver Island - four time zones. I would travel 2-3 weeks a month, and I would have to pick up our family and move us to Alberta. I had always loved Alberta, and the idea of being responsible fed my pride. I accepted the job. Saints, let me spare you the details. The Lord, I learned, never meant that I couldn't do that job. He never meant that I wouldn't receive money or respect or power. He meant that I could never afford to pay the price of those things. My taking that job nearly destroyed my entire family. For a year and half I worked for that company, traveling - while my wife and I drifted apart. My children wept when I left, and I wept while I was away - missing so much - and no longer desired at home. I was trapped - and it was trap of my own making. I had begged for people, like my mother, who was battling with breast cancer, to ask me to quit the job "Just tell me to quit, and I will!" I would say... but she wouldn't. "You have to do what's right for your family." she said. I wouldn't do what was right for my family - because I was worried what people would say if I told them that I was giving up so lucrative a job just because God told me to.

The Lord was merciful. My daughter, who was only six years old at the time, came in one morning to tell me I had to go to Montreal "to tell my Boss that you have a little a girl at home, who can't take it anymore." Oh Lord Jesus, it nearly broke my heart. My wife was miserable, and I was feeling more trapped than ever. We were spending the money I was making, and I didn't have a quick fix. How could I leave the job now? The Lord made a way...

While we were "home" on holidays, in the summer of 2006, my mother very suddenly took a turn for the worse, and went into the hospital. By the Lord's grace, I was there that day - and was finally able to have the conversation with her that she'd always wanted to have, and that I'd always put off. I got to say goodbye. I got to tell her how much I would miss her, and how empty our family would be without her. My mother, through her 14 year battle with breast cancer, through out-surviving three support groups, through the mercy and grace of our Lord and Saviour - the author and perfector of our faith, had come to know Jesus Christ as Lord. In August my mom died, but she had been Saved. I promised to return to take care of my dad. I promised her, and I kept that promise as best I could. I contacted my old employer, and they were happy to take me back, as soon as I was able to come.

In November of 2006 my family returned home, still broken - but I believed ready to heal. I bought my wife's ramshackle childhood home in her hometown. My wife was happy, and my kids ecstatic. I remember standing on the street in front of the house that day, and praying "Thank You Lord, for restoring us. Thank You Lord, for bringing us home! Thank You Lord!" I remember what I heard Him say in response, in that still, small voice. He said "It isn't over yet." Oh, Lord Jesus. The Lord forgives us, if we are faithful to confess our sins. But forgiveness isn't the same as wiping out the consequences of deliberate sin. In taking the job He was faithful to tell me not to take, I was guilty of deliberate disobedience. The consequences of that would not be wiped out....

Going back to my old job was like coming home, and spending time with family we’d long left behind felt good… but we weren’t back long before my wife started returning to see old friends, and things between the two of us still were not the same. The Lord’s speaking was not lost on me, and I prayed fervently for His guidance and His care. I prayed with my children, and we read the Bible together. I started with my daughter in Matthew, and went on to read from the Acts of the Apostles, and even later, at her prompting, from Revelation. My youngest son was the first to get Saved. He asked me to pray with him one night, and together we prayed – and he received the Lord as Saviour. Within a month, his older sister followed, again asking herself for help in receiving the Lord.

Together my two children and I began to seek a church to belong to. I had been listening to radio ministry long enough, now faithfully following the teachings of Dr. Charles Stanley of In Touch more than any other. I knew I needed a local church to belong to, I needed prayer and support and I had no idea where to find it, but I was going to try. We lived in a French Catholic town, so to the French Catholic church we went. I don’t speak French, but I prayed throughout the service. I could sense the Lord’s presence, but I couldn’t fellowship with anyone. I tried an Evangelical Mennonite church in a neighbouring town, but found that I’d arrived just when a guest Pastor was coming in to tell the congregation they had no right to fire the last Pastor – and it didn’t feel right. I tried my old Lutheran/Anglican church and found a new lady Pastor there… she resigned during the service, telling us her husband had just accepted a job in New Brunswick. I tried a very small Baptist church, and there the believers were very open and friendly – and I believe absolutely sincere. Their message was one of financial struggle – as they were very small – but thankfully they did also preach from the Word of God.

I tried Presbyterian (they were mostly away on a fishing trip that Sunday, and the group left behind seemed very tight knit bunch. They talked about golf and camping a lot), an English speaking Catholic church (I actually helped a young boy up from over my pew when he fainted, and no one said a word to me – even filing out, we were jostled and pushed…. No one wanted to speak to me); Saints, I just went everywhere; and nowhere felt like home.

Everything at work was going well – financially speaking, and we were comfortable… but there was no blessing in our house. My kids prayed with me for our family; knowing all too well the condition of it. The Lord bore a strong testimony to them in those days. Time went fast, and soon I had worked a full year back home, finishing at double my quota. I had my job review, which curiously did not go well despite my success, and then left for holidays – going on a cruise with my wife and father and sister, to scatter my mother’s ashes on her favourite island. I left work behind, and tried to enjoy the cruise with my wife – but although we were in an idyllic place, there was no romance between us. I was rebuffed and felt alone. I returned home with my wife more disheartened than ever, having placed some hope in this cruise being a kind of therapy for our relationship that it turned out not to be. At home, there was a message on my answering machine. The message was from a company I had worked alongside the year before – a distributor for the product I’d been managing. They wanted me to call them. They wanted to offer me a job. I didn’t know what to think.

Although my review had gone sideways, I was not at all unhappy where I was. Further, I felt I owed them my loyalty – they’d actually hired me back twice already, and I didn’t feel I should leave them again. Nevertheless an unsolicited job offer is something that shouldn’t be ignored, so I went to the Lord in prayer. This time He said very clearly, “Take that job.” I struggled with that; a lot actually, but the Lord was faithful – He was patient with me, and accomplished for me what I was reluctant to do myself. He ensured the owners of that other company wanted me enough that they wouldn’t take no for an answer. I gave my two weeks notice again, for the third time, and left for the new company.

Here my story turns, because here the Lord was moving – very suddenly, as He often does. We wait and we pray, and He says “wait”. Now He would reveal something to me. I had been at my new work for maybe two weeks, when I was given a road trip assignment with one of our technicians who we had just hired back after a two-year long sabbatical. I remember that day so clearly. I was driving the van, and picked him up at work. He stepped into my van with a muffin in one hand, and a slim book in the other. We exchanged greetings and hellos, and then I noticed the book a little more, and saw it wasn’t the manual I thought he might be reading. “What’s the book,” I asked. “Well,” he replied (showing me the cover of a HWMR), “I don’t know if you’re a Christian or not…” and that is as far as I let him get. The Lord caused the flood gates inside me to open in that instant, and for over an hour, as I drove, I gave my full tear-filled testimony to this brother in Christ. I had searched for so long to find a soul with whom to share, and here, where I had never thought to look for one, the Lord had placed him right before me! I knew, I knew absolutely that he was the reason the Lord told me to take that job. This was the sovereign arrangement of the Lord, and I embraced him fully as a brother. I hid none of my sins from him, I fully disclosed everything – and we became fast friends, enjoying together in prayer, in reading, in fellowship, in sharing the gospel.

I knew I needed fellowship at this point in my life – but I didn’t know how badly I would need it. Shortly after meeting this brother at work, I received from my wife a letter. It wasn’t the kind of letter any husband wants to receive. It was a letter that said, “I don’t love you anymore.”, and “I don’t consider myself to be your wife anymore.”, and “We will live together, but you will leave me alone. I will do whatever I want.” It was a letter that nearly broke me. I remember calling my father when I found that letter, which my wife had snuck into my bag before I left for work. I was in tears and distraught, parked at a Home Depot because I couldn’t drive. My dad was busy though, and even in that condition didn’t have time to come and see me. I called my brother in Christ, and he made time. We met, and we prayed together for my wife.

Saints, I will spare you the details – they have become a part of my wife’s Testimony – but suffice it to say that over the next eight months I turned more and more to the Lord – seeking Him at all times, spending time in His Word, listening to the speaking of His people, praying and calling on Him. I testified to my wife when I could, when I felt moved to – and even sometimes when I didn’t (which never proved fruitful). I fellowshipped with my Christian Brother and another brother who was hired on at our work, but did not go to attend their church with them. When I asked about their church, this brother would only say “The church isn’t a building. We are the Church – every believer everywhere; there is only one Church.” I was always welcomed to have supper at his house, or to meet with them on the Lord’s day, but I didn’t go… I didn’t want to rock the boat with my wife… who was very opposed to my growing faith.

Yes, over those eight months I prayed for my wife – and the Lord would correct me and lead me to pray properly for her. At first I prayed, “Lord, restore my wife to me!” – but the Lord said “No, you need to pray that I restore your wife to Me.”, Amen Lord! So I would pray that, and then He would say “I cannot reach her because of what she is doing, you need to pray for her to stop.”, and so I would pray for that….. Lord Jesus! My wife grew furious. She began to hate me, but at His prompting I took the headship and insisted that the things she was doing stop. She was caught in a rough place, and had to acquiesce – but she vowed to get revenge. I only told her I loved her, and kept loving her, as I spoke Christ to her.

Three months later, after a brief week’s holiday from work, my wife made good on her threat. I came home to find my wife and children gone. When I called her on her cell phone, not suspecting a thing, I learned what she’d done. She took the children, and threatened to never let me see them again if I didn’t leave the house so she could take her things from it. “I have all those letters you wrote to me,” she said – the ones in which I’d witnessed to her. “I’ve shown them to (some old friends of ours), and they think you’re crazy too! I’ll show them to a judge!” “Oh,” I said, “of course they think I’m crazy, they’re not Saved! I saved those letters too, and you are welcome to share them with anyone you want.” I tearfully spoke to my children, and told them I loved them. I told them people were going to say a lot of things to them that weren’t true – but they would know what the truth was. When my wife wanted to speak to me again, I told her there was nothing left to say. That stunned her. She threatened to get a restraining order against me if I wouldn’t leave the house. I told her I wouldn’t leave, and soon after that I hung up.

My wife made good on her threat, and I had no contact with her for six weeks. During that time, I found a lawyer (who, it would turn out, was a sister in Christ), and sought custody of my children. I gave copies of all the letters I’d written to my wife to the lawyer as well, so that she could see exactly what I’d said, and to ensure that Judge would get my full testimony. I stood steadfast in prayer with the brothers at work, and at last the Lord opened my eyes to my need of baptism (I’d only been christened as a baby, in the Lutheran church) – and I sought a Baptist church for that (Dr. Stanley’s ministry, with which the Lord spoke to me so often then, being itself Baptist). I went to a large Baptist Church and seminary, and was baptized there by the Pastor after sharing some of my testimony. I still did not meet with the brother and his friends, as they (I reasoned) lived quite far away from my home in the country. The Lord carried me through this tough time, He was so sweet and dear to me. He was my rock and my strength, and I leaned on Him heavily.

Four weeks in, my wife began to text me. She opened by saying she went to “our” church – by which I presumed she meant the church in which we were married. She was seeking, it seemed, but I didn’t know if I could trust that to be true. I tested her somewhat, and felt she might be being deceptive – although I certainly prayed she was being real. In that sixth week, my wife contrived to have me pick up the children for a visit directly from her house – which was not allowed with the restraining order still standing – but I picked them up there anyway. Before leaving that night, I told her: “We should talk, before court on Thursday.” Her face lit up, she nodded that yes, she would like to do that. “Come over tomorrow,” she said – “I’ll make you lunch.” I promised I would, and I left her there waving me goodbye.

Saints, I tell you truly that what I meant to say to my wife was “I don’t hate you. I wish you all the best. I won’t fight you for anything. You can have it all. I will hold nothing back. I just want to move on.” I had peace, “But if the unbelieving depart, let him depart. A brother or a sister is not under bondage in such [cases]: but God hath called us to peace.” 1 Cor 7:15. Fortunately for me, the Lord had other plans.

I went to see my wife that day, and she was crying in the kitchen, preparing for me a meal. The Lord, I would see, was faithful. Though at times we are faithless, yet still is He faithful; He cannot deny Himself. Lord Jesus! My wife had spent that night searching the In Touch website forum, where I had been fellowshipping with fellow believers for months prior to her departure, and during – sharing our trials in the quest for fellowship. Perhaps the Lord used some of that testimony, but in reality it was all Him. That day in my wife’s kitchen, she said to me: “I don’t blame you if you never forgive me for what I did to you. But please, I need Jesus Christ in my life, and I don’t know how to get Him. Can you help me with just that? Please? Then you can go, and I won’t hold you back.” My heart, Oh Lord – How great is thy faithfulness! I had prayed for months, and when I had stopped trying to do – You did! I held my wife, and told her that I not only could but had already forgiven – absolutely – and we held hands at her kitchen table, and we prayed together. She called on the name of the Lord that day, and I was given a new wife!

The next day, the brother came into my office, and I gave him the news. He wept in my office, for joy. “The Lord is SOOO good.. sooo amazing!” Amen. He is. The brother said immediately that we had to come to his house for a dinner, the whole family – “Now she won’t object,” he reminded me – and the last of my excuses fell away. “No,” I said, “I suppose she won’t.” In all honesty, my wife was terrified of the prospect of meeting these people. “They’ll hate me!” she said, “they know everything I’ve done!” “No,” I told her, “they are over-joyed for you. These people are real believers – these people have been praying for you for months. These people need to meet you. You are a new creation in Christ.” We went that night, and that is where we met our Church.

Saints, you already know exactly what manner of Believers we met with that night, although we did not. The brother had never espoused anything particular about the practices of the group with whom he met. He knew all about the ‘churches’ I’d been too, and never spoke a word against them. I knew nothing really of the group with whom he met – but I started to learn that night.

Two weeks later we went to our first Home Meeting - a night that consisted of a number of young couples and teenagers, all of whom seemed anxious to meet us. We were fed, we talked, my wife played with the babies. We sang, we prayed… and we felt richer for it. The books on everyone's shelf were entirely written by Nee or Lee. That made me nervous. My Brother spoke of Crystallizations, but he also is a Bible Believing Saint, so while he reads from a Recovery Version, he likewise has other versions on his shelf from which he reads. I asked him about the Recovery Version, and he suggested I buy a copy to see for myself… He’d given me a New Testament at one point, but I enjoyed my KJV and hadn’t really looked at it. After some prayer, I stepped up and bought a full Recovery Version to enjoy… although I’ve always checked it against others at Bible Gateway or against my own NIV and KJV at home….

My wife and I continued to attend the Home Meetings, but we spent our Sundays looking for a right Church for us. Since I’d been baptized at a Baptist Church, we went back to one. I took her the church in which I’d been Baptized, but she felt awkward – and as large a church as it was, she felt a little lost, I think. We tried small Baptist churches in the city, but I found the message was always the same…. A call to repentence, to the acceptance of Christ as Saviour, which was good…. But the message seemed to end there. We were hungry, and really needed more. My Brother watched my church hopping without comment for many weeks, and only after I confessed that I wasn’t finding what I was looking for did he suggest that I might want to come to meet with them on Sundays. “You have to be careful, church hopping with your wife.” He said, “She’s still so new, and it can really confuse her.” I had to admit confusion was exactly what I was feeling, so after speaking to my wife, we decided to meet with the saints.

That first Lord's Table Meeting, we walked into a hall to see all of the chairs facing eachother, and no place for a Pastor to stand, and cast a side long look at my wife… ‘what have we walked into here?’ I think I might have mouthed….Saints, after that first meeting, I again saw something I’d been looking for for a very long time. I saw genuine love for Christ. I saw a passion to know Him in a deeper and more meaningful way than I had seen anywhere else before. We found ourselves welcomed in, in a real way…. Not just at the meeting, but at the homes and into the lives of the saints at that church. I had never had that experience before. There was no call for money – there was only a mutual caring.

It wasn’t perfect; the Bride is not ready yet. I really wrestled with some things, more and more each day. I felt uncomfortable at the exclusivism of the book shelves; and I have still not made it my practice to read exclusively from the ministry. In fact, the first ministry book I read (no wait, the second – my first was Christ vs Religion) – but my second was Watchman Nee’s “The Orthodoxy of the Church”. Have you read that book? In it, Watchman Nee testifies that the Church in Philadelphia must surely be the Plymouth Brethren… and from them he gained so much he passed on… but it was his description of the Church in Laodicea that really opened my eyes. I have been reading from the books of the Brethren, who seem to have fallen away from what their ancestors had gained. I am reading WTP Wolston’s “Behold the Bridegroom”, and just a few weeks back I picked up a nearly complete set of JN Darby’s “Collective Writings”.

If I am to be honest, many times I thought I just couldn’t meet with the local church. As much as I had grown to love my brothers and sisters in Christ, I saw them as being too narrow-minded to really have the Truth. I felt that while they said the Church was composed of all believers everywhere, they had a smaller experience than that. I occasionally had the boldness to speak this, and was never shut down… never shut up. In fact, there were occasions when even the elder members would seem abashed, or confess afterward that there was an improper practice and that Christ needed to gain more in them…

Watchman Nee said, in his book “Revive Thy Work”:
"Because there are so few Pauls, we must not wait for such spiritual giants to appear. We believe that the time has come for the whole church to work, to save, and to preach the gospel. THE WAY OF THE INDIVIDUAL IS OVER. Indeed, this is the day to follow the way of the body. We must be one heart with God. We criticize denominations (but not the saints in the denominations), and rightly so, denouncing their brand of sacerdotalism; but we are no different in principle from them if the service of the church is monopolized by a worker plus a few elders in the place of all of the brothers and sisters laboring together."

This is beautiful, and wonderfully true - but I do not see this practice put in place. It is not merely that there are many who come to the meetings who do not stand and speak. I for one do not believe that it is either practical or possible for all to prophesy - for prophesying is a gift of the Holy Spirit - and not a gift we are all given. Each is promised at least one gift, but this one need not be it. No, the issue is the nature of what is shared - it is largely a regurgitation of the words and experiences of one man - and that is not the Normal Christian Church Life; it is most definitely Abnormal.

Did not the Lord Himself say (Matthew 23:8-12) “But you are not to be called 'Rabbi,' for you have only one Master and you are all brothers. And do not call anyone on earth 'father,' for you have one Father, and he is in heaven. Nor are you to be called 'teacher,' for you have one Teacher, the Christ. The greatest among you will be your servant. For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

Watchman Nee was, from what I have read of him, a meek and humble man. He died for Christ, and I see Christ in his living. Brother Lee, on the other hand, was a man who seems to testify concerning himself a great deal. He often spoke of the wonderful things Watchman Nee might have said about him, or speak of how he stands on Nee's shoulders... which positionally would place him above Nee, in a clear demonstration of a hierarchy which we theoretically reject.

“And He is the head of the body, the church; He is the beginning and the firstborn from among the dead, so that in everything He might have the supremacy.” – Colossians 1:18

We saints are all indwelt by the Holy Spirit, and are given the gift of discernment. Children of God, we are to trust in Him and no other. The veil is torn, we have access to the very Throne of God!

“one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.” - Ephesians 4:5

The Lord spoke through Peter, and said to the Believers
“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His wonderful light.” (1 Peter 2:9)

We believe these things, and yet we practice a trademarked Church Life that still puts elders in positions of authority and lets the writings of Lee dominate to the exclusion of all else. How does this make any sense at all?

In the 1500's, the Lord raised up a man named Martin Luther to recover "Saved by Grace through Faith". Martin Luther was convicted by the Lord to nail his 95 thesis to the church doors in Wittenburgh. Many were gained for the Lord in those days, and the Recovery was begun in this Reformation.... but the church that was born out of that was not the Church who already had won her crown, the Church in Philadelphia - but the Church who had a name but was dead, the Church in Sardis. Why? Because although Martin Luther recovered so much, he failed to understand that he didn't have a choice. He needed to break clean from Thyatira; from clergy, from hierarchy... and he was scared of doing that. The Church in Sardis was born by default, because Luther was tossed out of the Catholic church.

Two kinds of people followed Luther. Many saw Luther as a man they should learn from, and others saw Luther as a man they could learn with. There is a vast distinction between the two. Those who learned from Luther followed his footsteps to where they ended - in an occupied grave. They went no further than Luther did in the Lord's Recovery. Those who learned with Luther though, realized that it wasn't Luther they were to follow - but Christ... and these ones pressed on for the Lord, and recovered MORE.

“The pressing issue before us is that everyone must serve. Unless all serve, there is no church. Here, then is today's way: the work must be done by the entire church; it is the church and not just a few individuals, that preaches the gospel. No matter how well you each work, you become a Nicolaitan if you are a substitute for other people in the body of Christ. You may have a ministry but do not, as a consequence, have the church in reality.”

In Christ,

Neither First nor Last