Revival - The Journalist's Visit 13

Hope Village Community Church had finally found someone who would go to the pub in order to make friends with people. It was always looking for new members, and making new friends was a necessary part of its outreach. Sam had volunteered for this dangerous mission. Sam had been brought up by strict Christian parents. He was 56 and had never drunk alcohol at all. He felt comfortable having a meal in a pub, and, unlike some of the other church members, was not a recovering alcoholic. He had no reason to avoid pubs. Sam sat in the pub with the church orange cross around his neck. It was attached to his even stranger “Greenbuild Expo” neck band which he had brought from work, intended for his identity card at an industrial exhibition. Sam was proud of this combination. The bright orange cross on the professional neckband. Unlike Sam’s previous attempts to make a Christian statement cross, no one would ever think this was simply an ornament. Anyone who saw Sam in this guise would know he was a Christian and what he was trying to do. Steve was a journalist from a seedy national newspaper. He saw Sam sipping his orange juice.
 “Are you from Hope Village Community Church?” Steve asked.
 “Yes.”
 “Could I join you at this table?”
 “Certainly. I’m here to make friends with people.”
 “Could I get you an apple juice?”
 “Yes please.”

Steve returned with a scrumpy cider. To those who had never had an alcoholic drink before, scrumpy cider could easily be mistaken for apple juice. It is also a strong alcoholic drink, far stronger than regular beer or lager and stronger than most other ciders. It has a very pleasant taste.
 “This is nice,” said Sam, sipping his apple juice without realising that it was the fermented kind.
 “What is it like, this community of yours, then?”
 “It’s a nice happy family. Grandmas, granddads, women, children.”
 “Attractive young women?” asked Steve.
 “They’re not all young. Some of them are over seventy.”
 “Who’s the oldest woman you’ve got there?”
 “Stephanie is 76. Just 20 years older than me.” Sam sipped some more of his apple juice and giggled. “I feel great. I’m full of the joy of the Lord. There’s a presence here. There’s a joy in this pub. Can you feel it to?” Steve took another sip of his vodka and orange.
 “Yes, I feel it too. Sam, who’s your favourite woman?”
 “We call them sisters,” said Sam, sniggering. “Sister Stephanie is lovely. I met someone who knew her in 1976. In my mind I wind back the video tape and try to imagine what Stephanie looked like in 1976. Then I see her in the morning and think, you look an awful lot older than you did yesterday, in my dreams.” Sam had nearly finished his first pint.
 “Would you like another apple juice?”
 “Yes, go on.” Steve returned with another pint of Scrumpy cider.
 “What would you do, Sam, if you could jump in a time machine and go back to 1976?”
 “The first thing I’d do would be to try to find Stephanie. How old would she be? Oh, my brain can’t add two numbers together.”
 “It’s 37 years ago. She’d be 39.”
 “Stephanie, aged 39. No electric wheelchair. No arthritis. I’d marry her, then.”
 “Do you have sexual feelings for any of the sisters?”
 “I don’t think it’s wrong to have sexual feelings for someone when you like them that much. As long as, in your fantasy, you’ve married the person first. If you dream that you’re lying with your wife on the beach drinking coconut juice, that’s not immoral, is it?”
 “What kind of feelings do you have for the younger sisters?”
 “It doesn’t matter how old they are. Susan’s nice, she’s 25. Her sister’s really pretty, she’s 19.” Sam’s apple juice went down a lot further. “Look at this ring on my finger. I made a vow never to get married.”
 “Do you ever feel lonely?” asked Steve.
 “I never feel lonely. I’ll tell you why. Sister is not a strong enough word. They are my girlfriends. They’re all lovely people. Do you have a girlfriend?”
 “Yes.”
 “I love all the sisters in that church the way that you love your girlfriend, nothing less than that. That is the kind of love that God wants. Let us love one another, for love comes from God.”
 “Should I get you another apple juice?”
 “Yes, go on.” Steve brought another scrumpy cider. “I’m the romantic type,” Sam continued. “Maybe I’m different. I love them in the Lord. I care about them in the Lord. I think they’re wonderful in the Lord. My feelings are innocent. At least, most of the time, my feelings are innocent.”
 “What are other people’s feelings like?” asked Steve.
 “It’s not the ones you’d expect, is it?” said Sam, taking another sip of his apple juice. “It’s senior leaders. You can’t trust anybody. No woman is safe. They flirt with the girls and lead them on. They’re obsessed with sex. Have some respect for the old dears and the disabled people in electric wheelchairs, I say. Have some respect for your dearest sisters in Christ. Keep sex in its proper place.”

After his third pint Sam decided to walk home. He staggered as he came through the front door.
 “I can feel the spirit moving,” he said to Rachel. “Can you feel it? The room feels as if it’s going up and down.”
 “That’s because you’re drunk,” said Rachel.
 “I met this really interesting guy in the pub. He bought me apple juice in long, tall glasses.”
 “That’s cider.”

The next morning Sam woke up with a headache. Why was Johnny doing the vacuuming while Sam had such a terrible woodpecker inside his head, trying to get out? The vacuum cleaner was getting on his nerves. Finally, Sam managed to get up, around lunchtime. He saw the newspaper on the coffee table in the lounge. Sam’s picture was on the front. So was a picture of the community house. Next to them was the headline, ‘All Age Sex Cult.’ Next to the headlines were the paragraph headings in large bold print. ‘Senior Leaders Obsessed With Sex.’ ‘No Woman is Safe.’ ‘You Can’t Trust Anybody.’ Sam began to read the text underneath. ‘Members of the Hope Village sex cult take a vow never to get married and live together as boyfriends and girlfriends. All ages are welcome – the oldest is 76, the youngest is 19. Sam Taylor, who is a member of the cult, told us their slogan, ‘Let us love one another, for love comes from God.’"
 “I think the man you spoke to last night was a journalist,” said Rachel.
 “I’ve been misquoted,” said Sam.
 “I certainly hope you have. How much apple juice did you drink?”
 “3 of the long, tall glasses.”
 “That’s 3 pints,” said Rachel.
 “Look, I’ll leave. I’ll go to Mars, I’ll become one of the colonists. They give you a one way ticket and you never come back.”
 “Don’t go to Mars. We need you here. Who would empty the bins?”

Three days earlier, Sam had been leading the house group meeting on Tuesday night.
 “A reading from Luke chapter 10. ‘But into whatever city you enter and they receive you not, go your way out into the streets and say, Even the very dust of your city we wipe off our feet as a testimony against you. Be sure of this, the Kingdom of God has come near to you. It shall be more bearable on the day of judgement for Sodom and Gomorrah than for you.’ Hope village is like this. We are called Hope Village Community Church. We should be called No Hope Village Community Church. Why do we carry on with this unsuccessful church plant, year after year, decade after decade? Look around you at this room. How many of the people are there here who actually come from Hope Village? You can count them on one hand. We’ve been here for 20 years. It’s time we left.”
 “I get so angry when you go on about Hope Village. We pray for a miracle,” said Rachel.
 “For how long will you pray for a miracle? 20 years? 40 years? For the rest of your lives?”
 “We need to send the intercessors,” said Stephanie. “We need to intercede for Hope Village.”
 “Well, send the intercessors somewhere else, where they’ve got some chance of winning the battle,” said Sam.

On Sunday night there were huge queues of people at the church. The steward put out another row of chairs.
 “Don’t put them there,” said Isaac. “No one can get out to the toilet.”
 “Perhaps Rachel’s prayers have been answered,” said Jonah. One of the visitors was a rough looking man who was in his sixties. He sat down next to Stephanie and put his hand on her knee. Stephanie slapped his face.
 “What did you do that for?” he asked. “I thought you people were into that sort of thing.”
 “I assure you we’re not. Don’t believe everything you read in the papers.”
 “They’re not here to find Jesus,” said Rachel. “They’re here because they think we’re a sex cult.”
 “Perhaps they’ll hear the gospel anyway,” said Isaac. “Enoch is here.” Enoch was a very old man. He stood on the stage in front of the microphone.
 “In 1934 I was a Church of England Vicar. I was expelled from the Church of England because I prayed in tongues. In a meeting in the Pentecostal church in 1934, a young man gave a prophecy. He said that revival would begin in England. It would start as the sound of rustling in the leaves on the trees, and then the rain would come. Then there would be flood after flood after flood, and there would be no end. It would start in a little village in the Pennines. Oh, little hills of the East Midlands, you are not least among the mountains. Snake Pass will ring with the sound of praise. He said this would happen during my lifetime. I think the time is now.” Enoch collapsed on the stage.
 “Call an ambulance,” said Isaac. Sam went down to the stage to take a closer look.
 “I think he’s dead.”
 After a few minutes an ambulance came. Enoch was carried away on a stretcher.

Isaac stood on the stage behind the microphone. He made a V sign with his fingers.
 “God is making a victory sign. If you stay on the right side of God, you will see victory. If you get on the wrong side of God, you will not see victory, you will see his judgement. Brothers, let us not get on the wrong side of God at this time.” Jonah stood behind the microphone.
 “Do you want to know what the sex is like in this church?” The visitors sniggered, chattered and looked around excitedly. “I tell you, it’s fantastic. Sex with my wife is fantastic. I’ve never had it with anybody else. Why spoil it? Those celibates, they haven’t ever had it all. They love each other in the Lord. They see someone they fancy, they like them in the Lord, they care about them in the Lord. So the sex in this church is fantastic, and the love in this church is fantastic. Unspoilt by sin. Unspoilt by degrading, dehumanising lust.” A quarter of the people in the hall got up and walked out.
 “Oh well,” said the steward. “At least everyone in the hall can get a seat now.” Jonah continued preaching.
 “In the Bible, Esau sold his birthright for a bowl of lentil soup. Don’t give up the wonderful life God wants you to have for a moment of pleasure.”
 “Why not?” shouted a man. “It sounds like a good idea to me.”
 “Then you’re an Esau. You don’t have to get right with God tonight. If you’d rather have sensual pleasure, there’s a pub and a fish and chip shop over the road.” Another quarter of the people in the hall got up and walked out. There were still quite a lot there, and a quite a few of them new people, too. They sang a hymn.
 “We are one in the body, we are one in the Lord. We are one in the body, we are one in the Lord. And we pray that our unity will soon be restored. And they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love, and they’ll know we are Christians by our love.”

Those who had remained in the hall came back with the Christians to have supper in the community house.
 “There’s still a lot of people here tonight,” said Sam.
 “Yes,” said Rachel. “You were wrong. There will be a miracle.”
 “We all get discouraged sometimes,” said Isaac. The doorbell rang. Rachel put down her boiled egg and rice and went to answer it. There was a gang of Hell’s Angels.
 “We’re looking for somewhere to stay tonight. Could we stay here?”
 “You can stay here if you want. There’s the men’s bedrooms over there,” Rachel said, pointing, “and there’s the women’s bedrooms in the other building over there.”
 “We could always go to the local youth hostel,” said one of the others. They left.