Fire-in-our-hearts

Fire-in-our-hearts

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS

Authors' Preface

It was in early 1988 that we finally decided to write this book.

The Jesus Fellowship had always been controversial since its beginnings at Bugbrooke Baptist Chapel. But after the dramatic launch of the Jesus Army in 1987 people were keener than ever to hear our story.

Our first experience of charismatic renewal was back in 1969. Since then we'd established an 'Acts 2' community lifestyle, spread across much of England, and taken the gospel to the streets. At times it was a lonely road. But now, after almost twenty years of pioneering, we felt God urging us to stand with others and share our heart and vision.

And so, with some added encouragement from Kingsway

Publications, we sat down to write. One of our main leaders, Mike Farrant, had a lot of ideas for the book, but, when it came to it, he was hopelessly busy in administration. So Mike and I worked together.

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS

I left my job as a school technician in Northampton and began to grapple, weep and laugh my way through a story that was both epic and passionately dear to my heart. As I dug through the archives, listened to old tapes, and talked with the many characters, memories flooded back. Then I poured out my soul into the word-processor and tried to capture the spirit and vision of those years. Mike got me to tidy it all up! As it's seen somewhat through my eyes, you'll have to bear with me when I (Simon Cooper) wander in and out of the story.

Though this isn't exactly an official history of the Jesus Fellowship, there has been a good deal of hard research, discussion, polishing and editing. We've also tried to provide some biblical framework for what God has led us into and to set our own story in the context of the wider Christian scene.

You'll find that there are a lot of names in this book. We've tried to keep them distinct without resorting to the formality of surnames too often. (Within the Fellowship we often give people unofficial 'virtue' names, and these are mostly used to describe people.)

Neither of us could have produced this book on his own, but then that's really the theme of the whole book. This isn't a story by or about any one person. It's too big for that. As we've worked through this text, we've often been unashamedly moved and humbled. For this is a story of a bunch of widely different individuals whom God blessed, though they didn't often deserve it; changed, when they didn't always want it; and joined together — as a people with fire in our hearts.

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS

Preface to Second Edition

And now, six years on, Fire in our Hearts has travelled the globe. It's been read in prisons and stately homes. But, like any good story, people keep asking, 'What happens next?' So the time has come to update and expand the story. I've enjoyed writing about the last few years. I'm sure you'll enjoy reading about them!

Simon Cooper

The Lord Took Hold of

Bugbrooke

1805-1973

1 Forward Through the Desert

1805-1968

It all began in a village with a funny name. Bugbrooke, just south of Northampton, was a very English village with small sandstone cottages, a spired church and a large old rectory that dominated the southern edge. Its parkland of meadow, oak and copper beech added a touch of grandeur to a scene that nestled peacefully beneath the rolling hills of the Northamptonshire uplands.

Mind you, it hadn't always been peaceful. The East Midlands had a long history of religious rebels and, in the seventeenth century, had gaoled men like George Fox and John

Bunyan. At that time, Bugbrooke had the highest proportion of nonconformists of all the villages in Northamptonshire.

The Bugbrooke Quakers, Presbyterians and Independents were none too popular and some of them had to worship out in the fields at a spot called 'Hallelujah Corner'.

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

Baptists continued this tradition over a century later when a young farmer and a plumber from Bugbrooke were baptised in Northampton. The two men 'excited violent persecution' and 'some very base means were resorted to in order to prevent the entrance of the gospel of Christ'.1

But as they persevered in prayer, two young women joined them and they determined to plant a church in the village (it was a five mile walk into town!). God eventually blessed them with a young preacher, John Wheeler, and his wife, and in August, 1805, Bugbrooke Baptist Church was born.

That day the six pioneers made a 'solemn covenant' and promised, 'in the presence of God and our Lord Jesus, the crowned head of Zion... to promote his glory and walk together in the gospel... and, with the aid of the Holy Spirit, to deny ourselves and suffer for Christ's sake, to live above all undue influence from the present world, and to exhort, reprove, and comfort one another in the love of God...'2

Three years later they built a chapel, but John couldn't resist baptising in the river. Crowds came to see 'the Dipper' in action. By the end of his ministry, over a hundred people had joined them and congregations had been planted in the nearby villages. Bugbrooke became known as the 'cathedral of the chapels'. One of her noted converts, John Brown, was kicked out of Bristol College for 'quivering with laughter' while trying to say grace. He later became the President of the Baptist Union!

Bugbrooke had fire in its blood, and a memorial to the pioneers was fixed on the chapel wall: Your fathers, where are they?

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

'Well might they ask!' thought Verna, the chapel organist, as she gazed at the ancient plaque Sunday after Sunday. The gospel was in her blood, too. Verna's grandfather had been a Primitive Methodist preacher, and her parents were godly people. Her warm-hearted father was a shepherd and would come home from the fields and say grace before dinner. Her mother taught her to play hymns on an old harmonium. Verna grew up to love Jesus, and it was no surprise when she was baptised as a teenager and made a Sunday school teacher.

Then, at twenty-three, soon after the Second World War, she went away for a fortnight to Hildenborough Hall, a new

Christian Conference centre down south. There two war heroes from the RAF told how they'd been converted to Christ.

The talk that followed was simple and direct, and Verna saw that for all her religious upbringing she was still a sinner. For three days she barely ate or slept. 'Aren't I a Christian, then?' she thought. As God dealt with her, her pride was shattered.

It was like waking from a dream. Then, as she took hold of her Saviour, she felt a deep sense of forgiveness and cleansing. God's love became real and peace flooded her heart.

When she came home her parents were delighted. But she had a big disappointment when she bounded up to her minister the next day. 'Oh dear, Verna!' he sighed, 'You've got in with one of those emotional groups. It will pass.' But it didn't, and the new life she'd found was infectious. That night, as sixteen girls from her Bible class crammed into her cottage, Verna just opened her heart. Some began to weep and soon eight of them had come to the Lord.

Verna was encouraged and began to pray for the gospel to make a real impact on the village. She threw herself into evan-

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

gelistic work in Northampton. When she went off for a year's teacher-training in London, she thrilled to hear some of the best preachers of the day. Her horizons were widened and her faith stirred.

Then she came home to Bugbrooke to find her dear old chapel rather disappointing. Everyone was sincere, but the little group of evangelicals among them was discouraged.

They tried to keep up their spirits and hope in God. But it was hard work.

By 1951, things had reached a low ebb. The third minister in ten years had moved on and the little flock was shepherdless yet again. The grass looked greener at the Free Evangelical

Church in Northampton, where Pastor Barnes was a wellknown champion of the gospel. In desperation, Verna and her friends went to see him. He listened thoughtfully as they unburdened their frustrations and he promised to seek God's wisdom for them.

When they returned a week later, he said: 'Well, I'd love to have you, but the Lord has given me a definite word for you: "Stay where you are. Be much in prayer and fellowship. Be faithful and obedient. The time will come when you will see the hand of the Lord stretched out in blessing on this church at Bugbrooke."'

So they took heart. One dauntless soul had never dreamed of giving up. Miss Campion simply prayed harder. This retired Rugby School matron had grown up in the days of Queen

Victoria, and was a force to be reckoned with! As Chapel Secretary, she soon found a new minister. He and his wife were a pleasant couple, but, 'Where's the power of the gospel?' thought Verna.

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

Three years later news of a revival in the Hebrides began to filter through. Faith was rising in Britain and Billy Graham was making an impact with huge crusades in London. When, in 1954, Verna took some of the village youngsters down to hear him, they were stirred. Even the minister began to change and started a friendly after-meeting on Sunday nights.

Things began to look promising. But within two years he'd moved on.

Tyres screeched as the motorbike swerved off the Bedfordshire lane and crashed through a hedge. A young man appeared, unhurt except for a few bruises. He was Noel Stanton.

Noel, born in 1926, had grown up on his parents' farm in Bedfordshire. On leaving school he worked for a bank, but at eighteen was conscripted into the Royal Navy. One day, when serving in Sydney, Australia, a man approached him on the street. 'My young friend,' he said, 'where do you expect to spend eternity?' The word struck home and, not long after, Noel gave his life to Christ.

After leaving the Navy, he was baptised by a pentecostal pastor, and in the laying-on of hands there was a call to ministry. Noel was soon out preaching with his friends from the National Young Life Campaign. Together they organised village crusades and gospel events. Then he went to All Nations

Bible College and for a while acted as deputation secretary for what was then the West Amazon Mission.

Returning to Bedford, Noel worked as an accounts clerk and later in a business partnership. He lodged with a pentecostal family (with whose theology he disagreed!). He

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

continued to evangelise and set his heart on pastoral ministry. The Ministerial Committee of the Baptist Union vetted him and he began to look for an opening.

At Bugbrooke they were having little success finding a pastor, and a local minister recommended Noel. Bristling with evangelical zeal, he stepped into the pulpit. The congregation warmed to this smart, fervent young man, and Miss Campion invited him for lunch. She found him polite, though a little reserved, and a man with strong vision. Miss Campion called a church meeting which invited him to become their full-time pastor. Noel accepted but offered to continue his secular work in order to help with the finances of the church.

So in March 1957 local Baptist leaders and the Principal of All Nations gathered for Noel's induction ceremony. It was a new day for the chapel as they all sang together:

Forward through the desert,

Through the toil and fight!

Jordan flows before us,

Zion beams with light!

Noel got to work immediately and urged them on into vigorous outreach and warmer, deeper fellowship. He was steeped in missionary zeal and fed his soul on Wesley, Spurgeon and C. T. Studd. A recent book on revival — In The Day Of Thy

Power3 — had inspired him, and he invited the author, Arthur

Wallis, to lead a week's retreat.

Bible weeks, evangelistic drives and missionary weekends followed, and in 1960 Noel and Ken Thomason, a neighbour-

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

ing Baptist minister, invited the evangelist Don Summers to conduct a tent crusade to the surrounding villages. Fifty people came forward and a handful were baptised. Monthly rallies were started and Roger Forster led a Bible week that winter. The evangelicals were happy at last, and as that busy year came to an end, Noel was thanking God for their loyalty and for the many new friends.

However, after nearly four years of intense activity only a handful had actually joined the eighty or so members. Noel expressed his growing concern to the deacons: 'The crying need is for God to do his reviving work amongst us. Some show interest, but who is really won for Christ?' Other crusades followed, but the results were equally disappointing.

In the spring of 1963, the Pilgrims came for a weekend.

This young music group talked about a Jesus you could know personally. That came as a thunderclap to Dave Lantsbery, the headmaster's son and an Anglican choirboy. Seventeen, fresh-faced and athletic, Dave would have been an 'all American boy' had he not been so English! Often he turned up at the chapel youth club, played table-tennis and chatted to the girls. As far as Dave was concerned, he was a Christian, a churchgoer, and all right, thank you very much!

At the next meeting with the Pilgrims, Dave sat at the back of the chapel, on the defensive, and trying to justify himself.

On Sunday evening there was a call to make a commitment to Christ, and Dave stood up. Somebody came to counsel him, but still he held back.

'What about the Muslims?' he argued on — and on.

'The problem with you,' said the counsellor, 'is you won't admit you're a sinner. It's between you and God!'

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

Dave crumbled. As they prayed together, he saw a vision of Christ on the cross, and he realised that it was for his own sin that Jesus died. He broke down and wept, and came out that night a changed young man.

But such signs of God's work were few and far between.

Though the chapel was highly regarded in the area as an evangelistic centre, its members were often discouraged. Two more years of activity followed and still they waited. 'Here is a stack of decision cards,' thought Verna, 'but no real fruit.'

Clearly energy alone wasn't enough.

'If we loved God, we would love one another,' Noel told the deacons, 'but where is the spirit of love and power amongst us?'

By 1967 he seriously wondered about the way forward. Ten years had flown by. Could he rely on the devotion of his flock?

Should the next crusade go ahead? He felt desperate, and called a special church meeting. 'We are reaching a crossroads,' he said, 'and need to reassess things in the light of scriptural truth. Is the old style mission really the way? Should not growth spring from the vitality of the local church? We do a lot, but our heart is weak.'

Noel wondered whether he ought to stay on at Bugbrooke.

Was he able to take the church any further? And were they willing for a deeper commitment to the Lord? The deacons stood by him and determined to go on with God.

Soon after that some of the village teenagers came to the Lord, and two were baptised. A new manse was built, and when £400 was needed to finish the work, Miss Campion organised a Gift Day. The exact amount came in. For a while,

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

things seemed to be looking up and the Sunday after-meeting was attracting new people.

Dave was due to go to Africa on voluntary service, but before he left he helped form a Youth Council. The youngsters planned their own crusade, bought an old minibus, converted the chapel lounge into a coffee bar, and formed a Commando

Team to go round the villages. It seemed the best thing yet.

But over in Malawi, Dave soon heard how it was all petering out and the converts were going back to their old ways.

Verna visited friends in Ireland, who reminded her of the promise that Pastor Barnes had given them back in 1951. A pentecostal lady took her to one side. 'Verna,' she said, 'you're a lovely sister, but you need to receive the blessing.' Verna longed for this 'blessing' — whatever it was!

By now, they had a great hunger for spiritual power. There had to be a breakthrough. So in the summer of 1968, Noel started a Saturday night prayer meeting in the manse. About a dozen sought God and studied the Acts of the Apostles to see if they could find the secret of the early church.

All through that summer and autumn they searched the Scriptures. In Luke 24:49 they read how Jesus had told his disciples to wait in Jerusalem until they were 'clothed with power from on high'. They saw how transformed those disciples were after Pentecost when they were 'baptised with the Holy Spirit' (Acts 1:5) and spoke 'in other tongues' (Acts 2:4).

They saw the radiance, the impact and the power of those early Christians. This was what they needed.

Noel began to cry to God and search his heart:

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

I saw my own hypocrisy and got tired of saying the way of revival is to get filled with the Spirit. I wasn't living in the fullness and felt quite incapable of leading my people into it. A determination grew within me to get into the reality of God at all costs.

His kingdom was hardly established in power amongst us at Bugbrooke and I felt a poor shepherd.4

Noel knew of revivalists like Moody and Finney who had experienced a 'baptism of power'. He had also heard something of the recent 'charismatic movement' and its emphasis on baptism in the Holy Spirit. In fact, old friends from Bedford were now 'speaking in tongues' and praying for him to get the blessing. Noel wasn't so keen!

But as the manse group continued to study the New Testament they kept coming across tongues. Even Paul did it — more than all of them (1 Cor. 14:18)! As Noel got more and more desperate, his theological reservations crumbled. At last he picked up The Cross And The Switchblade by Dave Wilkerson and read again how God gave this young pentecostal minister such amazing breakthroughs with the gang fighters of New York. Noel was impressed by their sudden deliverance from drug addictions.

'When did it happen?' Dave Wilkerson had asked them. And one after another they gave him the same answer: 'When I was baptised in the Holy Spirit!'5

One Saturday, the chapel teenagers visited a charismatic fellowship in Rugby. They sat waiting for someone to start the meeting. No one did! Everyone just started singing, dancing and speaking in tongues. It was all a bit overwhelming! How-

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

ever the youngsters realised they'd found something important and hurried back to tell Noel.

By now Noel was almost ready for God to baptise him in the Spirit. 'Any idea of a second experience,' he wrote, 'had been taught out of me. I now saw the early church had a baptism of power and I needed to ask for and receive the Spirit.'6

Out in Africa, Dave had met some Americans who spoke to him of a second blessing, and the Lord challenged him about his barrenness. After reading in a book by Catherine Marshall about surrendering the will to the Lord, he had a real experience of meeting with God. His prayer life came alive.

He just asked for things and ticked them off when the answers came. By the end of 1968 he was praying for revival in Bugbrooke.

At the close of the annual church meeting in mid-December, Noel encouraged everyone to ask definitely for the Holy

Spirit according to Luke 11:13: 'If you... know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!'

'I have a text for 1969,' he added. '"With God, all things are possible." Also this scripture from Ezekiel 34:26: "I will make them and the places round about my hill a blessing; and... there shall be showers of blessing"' (RSV).

Within days it came. Noel was praying in the manse when a tide of love broke over him and the Spirit came in power.

Later he wrote of that moment:

The experience was very much as Finney describes. Certainly it was so intoxicating, so exhilarating, and so intense that I felt I

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

was just not going to live anymore! I became filled with the intensity of God. This went on for hours and hours and I moved into speaking in tongues and praising the Lord. It was a tremendous experience of life and fulness from which I didn't come down for a long time — and this was the changing point in my life.7

Around this time some of the chapel youngsters were baptised in the Spirit. Noel spoke in chapel of his own experience, and others began to enter in. Verna wrote to tell Dave.

He was walking down a street in Malawi when he opened the letter. He leapt for joy. Quickly he wrote back to Verna: 'I was praying for an outpouring of the Spirit, and then you told me what happened. It was amazing! — I mean, it was the happiest day of my life!'

It looked as if the promise given in 1951 was reaching fulfilment. Verna herself received 'the blessing' in her own cottage a month later. The church had found a new path. Little did they know it would lead to them being called 'one of the most controversial Christian groups in the country'.8

2 Free! I'm Free!

'Have you heard what's going on at Bugbrooke, John?'

Rev Ken Thomason stuck his head round the kitchen door.

'Oh dear!' thought John. 'What now!' He mumbled something negative.

'They're really different over there.'

'Yes, you ought to go over. There's a fellowship supper at the chapel tomorrow. Go and see them, John... Go and see them.'

It was obvious his dad wasn't going to give him any peace.

'All right,' sighed John. 'I'll go! I'll go!'

So he went. His dad was right. Noel looked as though someone had polished his face! John had been to lots of things that Noel and his dad had organised, but the atmosphere here was different from anything he'd encountered before. He had

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

'made a decision' for Christ at eighteen, but now, at college, he'd grown cynical and holy huddles annoyed him. Communism was more appealing. Changing the world — that was where it was at.

He looked around.

'Good Lord!' he thought. 'Even Miss Campion is glowing!'

'Notice anything about Noel?' his dad asked when he got home. 'Well, yes,' said John. 'He looked like a 100 watt bulb!

I had a good argument with them all about this "talking in tongues". Noel gave me this withering look. "Who are you to say a gift of God is no good?" he said. That really threw me. I thought, "You know what — he could be right!"'

The Holy Spirit had begun to invade the life of the chapel.

The teenagers were very excited and encouraged one another along. Stories flew around of talking in tongues and seeing visions. The youngsters prayed together almost every night for revival to hit the chapel. Sometimes they ended up on the floor laughing in the Spirit. One of the lads felt something like a warm electric current come upon his head and travel down to his toes. The joy was immense and he shook for an hour.

One of their friends, Geoff, was a fiery redhead with a character to match. Extrovert and likeable, he thought the Youth

Club was all a bit of a laugh. Then one evening when he walked in, Geoff looked really different. He'd given his life to Christ and was already baptised in the Spirit. It soon spread around the village. Geoff had 'got religion'!

Some of the youngsters joined the 'core' group. Around twenty, including Noel, Miss Campion, and Verna, now came together in the manse to seek God. Saturday nights were times

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

of discovery as the delighted pastor stepped back, and allowed the Spirit to move. They didn't know what would happen next. One lad jumped up, took his glasses off, and peered out of the window. 'Hey! I can see the Baker's Arms sign really clearly now!' he shouted. Another youngster would laugh uncontrollably and then burst out crying. He couldn't help himself — it was like holding back the Niagara! But many in the group needed to struggle to express their feelings freely in worship and in the process they learned to open up and pray with one another.

Gradually they became aware of books and tapes going round which described how the Spirit was renewing churches all over the world. Thousands in Britain were speaking in tongues as on the day of Pentecost. Michael Harper, an Anglican curate, had organised the Fountain Trust to foster this growing renewal movement and one of the team, David Mills, visited Bugbrooke to encourage them.

'Free, I'm free! Praise the Lord, I'm free!' they sang in their Saturday evening meetings. At first they felt self-conscious as they raised their arms in the air and clapped their hands.

But the barriers were coming down — a little. For traditional

Baptists it was pretty good!

In the Sunday evening meetings the old hymn books were replaced by shiny, red pentecostal song books that spoke of blood, fire and the blessing. But clapping on Sundays was still regarded as rather offensive (and undignified) and the morning services were sacrosanct in the eyes of the more traditional members. So the new-found freedom was generally kept for Saturdays and after-meetings. At times it was like restraining a herd of well-mannered buffalo!

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

The Saturday evening group in the Manse began to explore the supernatural gifts of the Spirit — tongues, prophecy, wisdom, knowledge, healing, and so forth. One evening David

Mills laid hands on them, and brought them all a word from the Lord. He also prophesied that one day the whole chapel would be full of people — arms raised and praising God. That was hard to believe!

The Fountain Trust was a great encouragement, and there was also input from leaders of the emerging 'house churches'.

Peter Lyne came from Bristol and led them into singing in the Spirit. Other young leaders like Graham Perrins, Gerald

Coates and John MacLaughlin visited the group. Hugh Thompson was the first to demonstrate the word of knowledge.

'Someone has a toothache,' Hugh announced. The someone refused prayer, however.

In July most of the group went off for a fortnight in Devon.

The holiday helped them to get to know one another better. It brought a sense of family, and they began to refer to each other as 'brothers' and 'sisters'. Three others from Northampton turned up at this Devon retreat. John was a gentle young man seeking to lead a small group forward in the Spirit, Malcolm was a quiet sixth-former, studying music, and Phil had recently been converted. They quickly became part of the 'family', and Phil cremated a pile of his cigarettes in the garden.

John would often visit the manse group. When he spoke, he trembled with fear, but his words carried power. His Northampton group often brought people along to the meetings and gradually news spread around that 'something interesting is going on at Bugbrooke'.

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

Then Dave returned from abroad and took up Rural Science teaching at the local school. Even in Africa he had felt involved with the 'revival' in Bugbrooke, and now he'd come home. He knew he would spend the rest of his days with these people. With awe he sensed the presence of the Spirit in his old friends. Miss Campion showed a deep gladness at what God was doing, whilst in Verna there was a transparent joy.

Noel too seemed warm and relaxed amongst the 'family'.

Dave went to his first meeting at the manse with fear and trembling. Some were quietly speaking in tongues and delighting in God. Heaven seemed very near. Then once again he had a vision of the Lord dying for him. The power and love of God came upon him and he could only worship God and weep for joy.

A week later he sought the gift of tongues and began praying by his bed in the dark. His parents came back and shouted upstairs, but Dave was lost in God and didn't hear. Later, when he called downstairs, they got the shock of their lives, and the young teacher had a good ticking off from his headmaster father!

Soon they heard that Don Basham, the author of Face Up

With A Miracle9, was speaking in Rugby. The group there was influenced by the highly-pentecostal South Chard fellowship who went in for 'glory meetings' and the miraculous. Such groups were springing up all over. People said that this one was 'pretty wild' and Noel went along reluctantly.

The teenagers stepped boldly into the buzzing room. It sounded like a party. The rest followed cautiously and were hit by a hot wave of enthusiasm, as the blast of hugging, clapping, dancing, shouting, holy kissing, arm-waving and tam-

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

bourine-bashing assaulted their ears. One lady went white as a sheet, John disappeared out of the back door, Noel looked aghast, and the rest were, to greater or lesser degrees, in a state of shock. Miss Campion had stayed at home, thank God!

Back at Bugbrooke, they vowed never to go again. However, when they heard that the evangelist Harry Greenwood was coming from Chard, they went over again. As they listened to his descriptions of the miraculous ways in which God can move in someone's life, their faith grew by leaps and bounds. Later, one young man was baptised down at Chard, but most felt that in this freewheeling scene there were theological and emotional excesses that needed to be guarded against.

As the year progressed, more Christians came around wanting to explore this new life in the Spirit. Peter Mattacola was a young man from the next village, who'd heard that they were 'laughing in the Spirit' at Bugbrooke. Pete was at university but went along in the spring vacation to investigate.

Sure enough, he caught one of the teenagers rolling under the chairs in a state of spiritual intoxication. Pete went back to Newcastle, joined a house church and returned in the summer with a tambourine, and an enthusiasm for Wesley hymns and for hugging. Wesley was okay, and the tambourine was tolerable, but the hugging was a shock to the system!

In October a Christian couple arrived from London. Brian and Jill were aware of God's leading as they drove round searching for a house and a lively church. One look at the Chapel noticeboard convinced them that Bugbrooke was the place for them. Soon Brian and John were appointed deacons.

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

Brian was an extrovert and a good balance to the cautious group. Evidently God was gathering them for a purpose. What that was, no one was quite sure.

There was some expectation of revival. They had listened with awe to accounts of the Awakening in the Hebrides, where people had been stopped in their tracks by the presence of God. Dave believed that within a few months the Spirit would sweep over Bugbrooke, the Baker's Arms would empty, the streets would be filled with repenting sinners, and God would do all the work. He wanted it the easy way!

Then tragedy struck. Geoff was enticed away by his old mates and backslid. A long-standing stomach ulcer got worse, and in hospital his condition became critical. Noel and other would often visit Geoff in hospital and would take his parents there after a service. Two weeks after being admitted, he found the Lord again and praised God so loudly he had to be quietened down! He amazed the nurses. How could someone that ill be so full of joy?

Geoff had five operations and was often near death. Everyone believed he would recover and prayed for him, but towards the end of the year he fell into a coma. The doctors were on the point of giving up when Noel and others gathered round and proclaimed the victory of Jesus. To the amazement of the doctors, Geoff recovered consciousness.

Geoff's illness was knitting the group together more closely and was a challenge to prove the power of faith. As for doubting John Thomason — well, the Lord cornered him on top of a London bus. The love of God welled up within him as he rushed back to his room and shut the door. Tongues burst forth, and flowed and flowed until, at two in the morning, his lips were

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

sore! The next day he stood in the breakfast queue at Imperial College with his hand over his mouth. He couldn't stop speaking in tongues, and his boiled egg went cold before he could negotiate the difficulties of eating it!

The chapel was now a talking point for the whole village.

'Lily,' said an Anglican lady to Geoff's mum, 'I don't know what's going on there, but whatever they've got, we haven't!'

Some in the chapel weren't too keen on what they had got!

Changes occurred in the weekday meetings. Some in the Young Wives were praising the Lord in new languages, and choir practice changed from 95% choir and 5% prayer to 0% choir and 100% prayer, praise and Bible Fellowship. Miss

Campion's Friday afternoon prayer time was livening up as well. Homestead Cottage would never be the same again.

Miss Campion handed on the torch of Church Secretary to Verna. Deacons' meetings were now interspersed with praise and prayer, as they sought to know 'the guidance and witness of the Spirit'. That in itself was a miracle! Some expressed the gift of wisdom in picture form. One such 'wisdom picture' was of a beautiful lake obscured by trees. The lake represented the life of Christ in the church and the trees were its members. The wisdom was an encouragement not to block out the light of God's Spirit. They had to be humble before God and let him have his way if renewal was to continue.

Noel's ministry became more inspirational. The Spirit had opened up whole new horizons and he was learning as fast as he could. He was glad to listen to Brian, John, the youngsters, the Fountain Trust, anybody who could help. Slowly he was finding his feet and developing a distinctive ministry. The approach from man's side was 'softly, softly'. Prayer, patience

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and second-mile love was the way. After all, it was a traditional village Baptist chapel. But not for long. God was doing a new thing.

3 Gathering for Power

Geoff died on the last day of January. He was just twenty.

God's power was real, but there was no miraculous cure. The Thanksgiving service was full of victory, praise and tears. At his graveside they sang 'Blessed Assurance', while some wept and cried to the Lord. Geoff's parents, Arthur and Lily, were deeply moved by the love that had been shown them. Lily was a churchgoer, and Arthur was chapel. Both had felt reserved towards this move of the Spirit, but Lily began to go to the meetings, found the Lord, and was drawn into the centre of things. Arthur followed later.

The travail over Geoff proved to be the birthpangs of a new fruitfulness. The sense of God's presence increased, and Noel circulated a newsletter around the villages. The mid-week chapel meeting now moved around and met in homes. They were packed out. Expectation was still for revival and Noel,

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inspired by the example of Evan Roberts in the Welsh revival, got them all to pray in turn: 'Lord, fill me more powerfully with your Spirit.'

A wave of baptisms began in the spring, Malcolm being the first. He felt a new power as he came out of the water and soon the shy schoolboy musician was going around praying with people and ministering in the gifts of the Spirit.

John's sister, Carol, had become a Christian at thirteen, but later rebelled against her evangelical upbringing. The world had messed her up and now, at twenty-one, she'd hit rock bottom. People from Bugbrooke were often at her mum's house in Northampton, and she noticed the way they talked and prayed about this lad Geoff. Here was genuine love. And that was what she longed to find — real love.

Plucking up courage, Carol went along and sat at the back of the manse one Saturday evening. She tried desperately not to be noticed but felt increasingly awkward as the meeting progressed. They sang some songs, lifted their hands in the air and prayed. 'Let's pray for our sister Carol,' said Noel.

She lifted her head unbelievingly. 'What, pray for me?' she thought, and burst into sobs. The tears streamed down and mingled with her mascara. Soon Carol was surrounded by caring arms as the sisters prayed with her. The awareness of her sin was overwhelming and she cried out to God. Then peace came. How amazed she was that night to be loved by God! It was a fresh start. Her worldly friends dropped her, but Carol didn't mind — she'd found a new family.

Carol had known the gospel well enough. She had heard it a thousand times over. But here was a real sense of belonging. It was amazing to see how all these people were on the

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same wavelength. They actually loved one another. This wasn't formal religion or even the type of evangelical Christianity she had known. 'For we were all baptised by one Spirit into one body... and we were all given the one Spirit to drink,' she read (1 Cor 12:13). She looked at the 'intoxicated' teenagers and smiled. That was what she was seeing before her very eyes.

A few weeks later she was in the manse again. 'Some of you will be baptised in the Spirit tonight,' Noel announced.

Carol wept again as God's love bubbled within her and she spoke in tongues. Immediately her barriers went down. She wanted to go around the room and hug everyone.

They often spoke of the 'body of Christ'. The church was not an organisation — it was a living organism. All over the world, believers were discovering this, and were meeting in their homes as a 'family'. In Scripture the manse group read of the body 'building itself up in love' (Eph 4:16), of the members having 'different gifts' (Rom 12:6) and of rejoicing and weeping together (Rom 12:15). All who experienced the Spirit felt this sense of unity, of being part of one another. But others in the chapel weren't finding God in such a way and some felt a little excluded. Not everyone wanted such an experience. Quite a few clung to the old ways. Some were confused or a little fearful. Others could be proud and quite rude!

It seemed that belonging to the 'body of Christ' and chapel membership were not exactly the same. The Spirit was a blessing and a trouble-maker. Jesus had warned against sewing a new patch on an old garment, and the chapel was feeling the strain. It was a heartache for those who sought to bridge the widening gulf. Some had already left.

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Sunday evenings now began to change and baptismal services, especially, brought new freedom. Handclapping and raised arms began to appear. Up in the organ, Verna's fingers moved nimbly over the keyboard as the songs livened up.

In the summer vacation Peter 'Matt' came round again with his tambourine and found the chapel a strange mixture. Charismatic choruses were accompanied by a huge pipe organ and sung from old wooden pews with doors on the end, while the mixed bag of believers was led from the pulpit by an increasingly liberated Baptist minister. At one Sunday evening baptismal service they didn't wait for the preacher or the organist! The singing started spontaneously; someone spoke in tongues and it was followed by an interpretation of exuberant praise. As if that wasn't enough, the service was followed by a discreet exorcism! And that was the end of traditional formality on a Sunday evening.

Minister and deacons now began to review the Constitution, which had its limitations when looked at in the light of a renewed understanding of Scripture. One deficiency concerned 'body ministry'. In the early Church everyone was a disciple, all had spiritual gifts, and all were involved in worship and ministry. They saw this, and were keen to encourage ministry from within the church. Moreover Noel wanted to recognise fellow elders and the Constitution didn't allow for that. The matter was taken to a Special Church Meeting and they agreed to 'revoke the rules temporarily — to allow the Lord to guide us in the formulating of new ones'.

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A gracious little bombshell! It meant they were breaking free from tradition and the battle was shifting from personal blessing to church renewal.

Meanwhile, Carol was feeling the need for water baptism.

Jesus had been baptised, and the formula in Acts 2 was clear enough: 'Repent! Be baptised! Receive the Spirit!' Baptism spelt goodbye to the old life. It was the burial of a sinful nature already slain upon the cross. The old Carol with the sinstained life, and the broken heart, had come to an end. She could bury it all, and rise with no shadow to follow her.

One July evening she stood in the warm water. All around the baptistry were friendly faces and cross-legged kids peering excitedly down. Carol was plunged into the water and up she came again spluttering and radiant. A ripple of laughter went through the chapel, and the organ groaned into action.

A word of prophecy was given that she would be a 'fruitful vine'. A brief pause, then a tambourine swung into a song.

'Lifted! I've been lifted, I've been lifted by his love, out of sin and sorrow into boundless realms above!' The congregation burst into praise.

Within days a minibus and two cars were speeding through the night to Scotland. Another chapel holiday had begun. Carol had brought a friend, Mim, with her. Mim was excited but Carol slept peacefully on her shoulder. 'Thirty-two Spirit-filled

Christians in a castle for two weeks!' thought Mim. 'Well, thirty-one plus me!'

Mim was from the Elim Pentecostal Church and there was a kinship between the two fellowships. The chapel admired their well-established pentecostalism, and the Elim young-

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sters who came round enjoyed the vitality and family atmosphere at Bugbrooke. Mim, though, hadn't been baptised in the Spirit yet.

No sooner had the first evening meeting begun, than Carol got up and delivered one of the 'words of knowledge' that God often gave her. 'Mim is going to get baptised in the Spirit

— tonight!' she declared, and by the end of the evening Mim was speaking in tongues.

That night the sisters' dormitory was invaded by flying beetles, so Carol had an idea. She got out of bed, mustered up her spiritual authority and shouted: 'I rebuke you beetles in the name of Jesus!' The poor beetles were never seen again!

The theme for the fortnight at Kilravock Castle was 'Rejoice always'. Friendship, worship and fresh air combined to make, in Mim's words, 'a terrific holiday'. For Noel it was a chance to spend more time with leaders as they sought the way forward. One thing was clear — the change in Carol was amazing. It was a power conversion and a power baptism.

They read in Acts of how Paul met some disciples who knew only 'John's baptism' (Acts 19:3). Something was wrong. They trusted in Jesus, but lacked life and power. Paul baptised them again and, as he laid hands on them, they 'spoke with tongues and prophesied'. The Holy Spirit had come upon them! Now

Noel saw baptism in a new light. It was a gateway into further blessing, and Carol and Malcolm had passed through.

A few weeks on, and up to forty people crowded into the manse. It was hot and the windows were flung open. The room buzzed with life and there was hugging and praising. Kelly and Norma were two pentecostals who were so impressed

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with the change in Mim that they had come fifteen miles from Kettering to investigate. Kelly was a converted biker and hungry for God.

'How did you get on?' asked Norma, on the way home.

'Man! The liberty's worrying,' said Kelly, and smiled. 'It was great!'

They were very drawn by the love and were an immediate hit with the youngsters. Kelly had a leather jacket, dirty jeans and sideburns! What's more he played the guitar and was down to earth. Everybody liked them and before long they slipped into the heart of the fellowship.

Kelly felt they were laying a foundation for the future with their emphasis on the body of Christ. The spiritual gifts were fine, but it was the love that spoke volumes. Often a minibusload would cram into their little house at Kettering. It was better brotherhood than among the bikers and there was no hangover!

Towards the end of the year they moved in next door to Verna, and soon took in one of the young men. The two cottages attracted people over the weekends and formed a little spiritual oasis. Kelly was invited to the leaders' meeting, and given responsibility for two minibuses and the cleaning of the outside toilets. Such was the price of fame!

Slowly people were gathering. Two years had now passed since the original group had first felt the shock waves of the Spirit. They'd discovered much, but perhaps the most important thing of all was the reality of bring knitted together in the love of God. Revival hadn't swept over Bugbrooke, but the winds of change were definitely blowing.

4 Winds of Change

It was a normal Sunday morning in February. Miss Campion hovered around the front of the chapel and kept a maternal eye on the deacons who greeted people at the door with a handshake. She was pleased to see that a few of the new

Saturday-nighters were now turning up for the morning service.

All was well. The flowers had been arranged, the communion table set out, and inside Verna was playing gentle hymn tunes on the organ. The congregation sat patiently in their pews until 10.30am, when the side door opened, the whispering of the children stopped, and in stepped a well-groomed

Noel. The choir followed and as they positioned themselves on the platform, Noel stood casually next to the pulpit. (To the annoyance of some — he should have been in it!) Then he quietly prayed and announced the first hymn.

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It was hardly the day of Pentecost! Yet that Sunday morning was different. The deacons had already agreed to introduce 'free ministry' during the communion service, but no one had dared break the ice. Then John Thom, the charismatic graduate, spoke out in tongues — loudly. Traditional hearts froze. The tongue was interpreted and another brother prophesied. For some, that was it. 'If we'd wanted a pentecostal church,' said one man, 'we would have gone to one.' But the Holy Spirit could not be stopped. Now was the time to lose the 'wood, hay or straw' (1 Cor 3:12) of traditionalism and build according to the New Testament. The chapel doors must be flung open to allow the wind of the Spirit to blow right through!

The spring of 1971 saw an influx of young people. Lunch and tea were provided on Sundays, and Kelly and Dave led an afternoon gathering called TTMTT. In this Teens and Twenties Music and Testimony Time there were real breakthroughs in sharing, testifying and experimenting with gifts and ministries. Many more were around on Easter Monday when five people were baptised amid loud rejoicing and tears. On Sunday evenings the sound of tambourines carried into the night air. Sometimes there would be singing in the Spirit, the melodies weaving together in harmony. 'When they sing in these tongues, it's so beautiful,' one lady told her friends, 'you think you're in heaven.'

Some of the older members of the chapel were now catching up and entering into blessing. One elderly lady saw a vision of Jesus, with a beautiful glow around his face. She found a deep peace and entered into the worship. But not all the

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villagers were so keen. 'All that clapping and singing!' said one irate neighbour. 'You wouldn't think it was a place of worship.'

A facelift was now overdue for the chapel. The organ was riddled with woodworm, and the pews were large, hard and immoveable. The place needed heating, lighting and space.

The evening congregation was growing and the mums and babies were taking over the vestry. A new building programme was needed.

The plan was to replace the old pews with lightweight, padded ones, and to redecorate the chapel in bright, cheerful colours. As for the organ, the cost of restoring it would be astronomical. The space could be better used for a new vestry. So they agreed to purchase an electronic one, versatile enough for a newer style of worship. The organist could then sit with the rest of the 'family'.

But, again, not everyone was happy. 'When that organ went, it was like someone had died,' lamented one old lady. Opposition was building up, not only from within the congregation, but from others who were suspicious of the charismatic movement.

Noel stood firm and reassured the deacons. 'As we allow the Lord to have his way, we shall know victory,' he said and quoted from 1 Peter 3: 'Love as brothers, be compassionate and humble... But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed.'

Many, like Kelly, ached for a full release of worship and brotherly love, and had often grieved over those who were getting left behind. But in the end it was their choice whether or not they would yield to the Lord.

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In May Gerald Coates came for a week. He was a dynamic young man, one of many charismatic leaders in the UK whom Arthur Wallis sought to draw together in a vision for restored, biblical Christianity. Two streams were emerging in the charismatic movement. One sought for 'renewal' within the denominations, the other for a 'restoration' of New Testament church life. Gerald had left his Brethren assembly to form a house group in Cobham. Like Bugbrooke they were finding real relationships and even greater liberty. The problems of dealing with people of widely different views didn't exist in their type of house church, and Noel envied their biblical simplicity.

Gerald ministered with great freedom, weeping as he spoke of the grace of Jesus. One of the ladies was healed of a deformed hand and news of this rippled through the village. As a reward, Gerald was given the task of visiting some of the traditional chapel folk. But he didn't get very far. The flamboyant young fellow was hardly their idea of 'the minister'!

Gerald taught from the book of Haggai, a prophet endeared to the house churches.

'"You expected much, but it turned out to be little,"' he read, referring to the hope of revival.

'"Why? Because of my house, which remains a ruin, while each of you is busy with his own house."' Gerald pressed for radical commitment.

'"Go... and build the house,"' he read with excitement, ' "so that I may take pleasure in it and be honoured, says the Lord."'

'An enthusiastic remnant rebuilt the temple in their day,'

Gerald explained, as he paced around. 'So must we in ours!

We must restore the purity of the church. God is looking for

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pioneers — for worshippers — those who are going to get out of compromise and get into reality.'

The last ceremony in the unaltered chapel was Mim's wedding. Then, while work went ahead, sixty went down to an old rented Bible College in the New Forest for the summer retreat. Some major subjects were tackled in Noel's teaching sessions, including authority, spiritual ministries, church meetings and the nature of the church.

The function of the church was a vital topic. They began to see that it wasn't enough simply for chapel practices to be renewed. Throughout the world, the Spirit was bringing a fresh understanding of the nature of the church. Churches in the first days were planted by apostles and prophets and functioned more or less independently. Denominations and priestly systems were unknown, as were consecrated buildings, vestments and altars. Theological colleges were unheard of. Instead, on-the-spot training was given in the local churches.

With a full range of spiritual gifts and ministries, each local church should be a place of simple brotherhood and a real expression of the body of Christ. In Britain, many people who felt this were joining the house churches, and those who pioneered these 'new churches' were helping other fellowships and taking them under their wing — or 'covering' them.

Bugbrooke Chapel had received input from 'restoration' and from 'renewal' streams. Where did she stand? Basically, as an independent church. Bugbrooke had a remarkable heritage of independence, and the chapel, like others affiliated to the Baptist Union, was entirely self-governing.

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The chapel fellowship was wary both of being restrained by denominational tradition and of being 'covered' by one of the new churches. The house church fellowships, being new, were inevitably immature and some were very middle-class.

Noel had a good streak of the Puritan evangelical in him, and was wary of an overbalance on liberty. Members of house churches had discovered the joy of being 'not under law' in their front rooms, but there was plenty of evidence for ruling authority in New Testament churches. There was also the need for holiness and costly discipleship.

The chapel quietly asserted its independence as radical Baptists. The Lord was launching them out in a new direction, and it was a joy to have the Scriptures for a compass, and the Spirit blowing into their sails.

Towards the end of the retreat they began to plan a new offensive: the Jesus Lives Crusade. Kelly, in particular, got excited. It seemed that this little 'body' was being mobilised.

There was talk of a music festival and a convoy through the villages. What's more, they'd ordered a load of Jesus tee-shirts in turquoise, orange and violet! JESUS IS LORD would soon be proclaimed in block capitals from their chests and HAPPY

NEW LIFE IN JESUS from their backs. The times were certainly changing. To cap all that, they had decided to drape a red and white banner across the old stones of the chapel.

JESUS LIVES! it would proclaim — right over the chapel entrance!

Kelly winced as he thought of the reactions. He leaned back in his canary yellow shirt and red leather waistcoat and let

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out a low whistle. He wasn't your average Christian. But he didn't need to be — not for what was coming.

Back in the freshly-painted chapel, Kelly's eyes scanned the balcony. 'Perhaps violet was going a bit far,' he thought, and smiled as he watched Noel waiting for the choruses to end.

Noel still looked the smart Baptist minister, but under the dark suit a charismatic rebel was burning.

Thirty youngsters had turned up in two minibuses that summer evening, and the chapel was packed and buzzing.

'Man!' whispered one lad, tugging at his friend. 'The love kinda hits you!'

'Yeh! They're all tripped out on something,' said the other.

They sniggered and hid behind their song books.

Verna beamed behind the new electronic organ. A couple of guitars joined in as she played 'Sweep over my soul' for the umpteenth time. A murmur of praise then rose up and flowed into a new chorus: 'He has given me the wine to make my heart rejoice, and the oil to make my face to shine!'

Miss Campion sat towards the back with a twinkle in her eyes. Her Baptist severity had given way to a glow of glory.

Some of the leather-jacketed youths didn't know what to make of it. They eyed each other and Miss Campion, and nervously edged towards the door. A few of their mates had already lit up outside. Soon Noel was throwing out the challenge of a radical following of Christ. His theme was the 'Jesus Revolution'.

News of a movement among the American hippies was leaking into Britain. Flower power had been invaded by the gospel and there were amazing stories of deliverance from drugs

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and the occult. The revival itself was turning into a counterculture as transformed young 'Jesus People' followed the teachings of Jesus and lived a life of sharing. For them, Jesus was the revolutionary of revolutionaries.

In July the local Northampton paper had carried an article about the Jesus Revolution, and this coincided with the chapel's publicity for the Jesus Lives Crusade. In the minds of the locals the two were associated. Violet tee-shirts, bell-bottom jeans, and long hair, confirmed it. Bugbrooke Chapel was full of Jesus Freaks. They were, without a doubt, the Jesus People.

The Crusade began in August with a convoy around the villages. Cars and minibuses displayed stickers and posters, while, in the middle, a lorry chugged along full of tee-shirted youngsters on straw bales, sporting guitars and Jesus grins.

Noel, in his posh Audi, led the convoy down the A5. When they got to the outskirts of Towcester, they turned round, and the whole procession did a U turn through a petrol station!

The attendant stared unbelievingly as the lorry came through.

'Smile! Jesus loves you!' they shouted — and handed him a gospel tract.

The culmination of forty days of activity was a music festival on a village green near Bugbrooke. Gerald Coates came with a team, along with some music groups whose styles varied from gentle gospel to heavy rock. Carol and others told their stories from the back of the lorry as hamburgers and onions sizzled nearby.

Old friends from Bedford who had been praying for sober

Noel to get the blessing turned up, and got a shock to see his

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bright red shirt, glowing face and long hair! They liked the new version and the group became Saturday night regulars.

Following the music festival, eight people were baptised.

Johnny, a local fighter, wept his way to the Lord. The village was stirred and he was asked to speak at Dave's school. Some of the youngsters responded, and more came along to see what was going on down at the chapel.

In September, the American evangelist, Arthur Blessitt, hit town, leaving a trail of Jesus stickers and enthusiasm. Then a huge bonfire lit the skies over Northampton — the Nationwide Festival of Light had begun. In London the shouts of 'Praise the Lord!', the One Way signals, the music, the stickers and the joy all indicated the spiritual groundswell abroad.

At Bugbrooke that swell was rising fast. Some who had started coming to the chapel meetings were thinking of moving into the village, but not all could afford to. Noel suggested a Sharing Fund to meet particular needs and the formation of a housing association to provide homes at a low cost. This, he explained, put into practice the communal spirit of the New Testament. He admired the example of the early Christians and, to the amazement of some, started to lend out his Audi.

Christmas was approaching and many were uneasy about the worldliness and hypocrisy it involved. The festival, which was of pagan origin, and never recognised in the early church, brought so many temptations to drunkenness and greed.

Sadly, Johnny, the local fighter, had already gone back to some of his old ways.

Nonetheless, a carol service went ahead and Noel hoped to reach the hearts of some of the traditional folk. Testimonies

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to the power of Christ were given, but Noel came away grieved. So many seemed to sing the carols with no real desire to follow Christ. The way of compromise seemed ineffective and he yearned for a clean break. Jesus revolutionaries needed the courage to stand against the tide and be true to God.

Christmas day was a Sunday. Normal services were held, but few came. The church was on holiday and the work of God took a back seat. Noel resolved that next year it would be different.

Two days later Johnny turned up late at night weeping outside the chapel. Kelly and Noel led him back to the Lord.

Soon he got a burden to reach his drop-out friends in Northampton. Others sensed the leading of God in this and a vision for these people developed. As God urged them on to the streets, they launched out into deeper waters.

5 Angel and Freaks

They knew where to find them. The Black Lion was known as a centre for the drug scene in Northampton. When the weather was warmer thy sat on the steps of All Saints Church, or chatted to each other in the coffee bar inside — an interesting mixture of hairies, acid heads, and bikers, ranging from flower power hippies to full blown Hell's Angels. Most were dropouts, spending their money on dope. There was an openness amongst them, something of a brotherhood.

One Saturday morning in January the unlikely team from Bugbrooke dived in: Noel, the evangelical crusader; Kelly the pentecostal ex-biker; Johnny, the newly-converted fighter; Val, a teacher; and Malcolm, the refined schoolboy-musician.

John Cornish and Paddy were sitting up against the wall chatting when they spotted the middle-aged straight and his

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friends coming up the steps. Paddy was taken aback but liked their 'vibe'. Kelly and Johnny had some interesting stories.

Paddy and John Cornish were intrigued by this Jesus trip, and paid a visit to Bugbrooke. As a result, Kelly and Norma's cottage and the manse soon came to be known as places where you could get a lot of friendship and a good conversation about religion! Bugbrooke might be a bit 'far out' (five miles), but it was worth the ride.

The following week Noel met Rufus, a vegetarian and a religious freak. He was into the drug scene in London and frequently took the hippy trail to Glastonbury and Cornwall. At nineteen, he had done two years with the Royal Shakespeare

Company, worked for television and appeared in the film of War and Peace. Rufus was on the road to stardom.

His wife, Jessie, lived with his mum in Northampton, and Rufus travelled to and fro, dealing acid on the quiet. He disdained the junk pushers (John Cornish and Paddy were already fixing heroin) but was happy to sell his 'sweet dreams'.

LSD, in his eyes, was a mind-opening path to religious experience: enlightenment was his goal.

Noel sailed in. 'This guy's quite interesting,' Paddy whispered to Rufus as Noel approached. Rufus broke off his mantra and gave him a quick suss. Noel's face looked alive.

'Hello. Bless you!' Noel said warmly. 'I'm Noel from the Jesus People. Have you got a faith in God?'

'Yeh,' said Rufus, 'I've just been praying to the angels — you know — conversing with the powers of light.'

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Noel smiled. 'I think we've got something that might interest you. Why don't you come along?'

So he did — that night. John Thom was leading a Bible study in the manse on Acts 2 — how the first believers 'had everything in common' (Acts 2:44). Rufus interrupted a few times and when the meeting finished, wandered into the kitchen where someone was frying sausages.

'Wow — carnage!' said Rufus. 'I thought you people were spiritual.' The brother smiled.

'Oh well, obviously it's a place for needy people who haven't got much savvy,' thought Rufus, '...certainly not for the philosophical.'

Noel walked in.

'Why, O why,' Rufus asked, 'do you feel salvation lies in your little structure? It's all so narrow. What about all the other spiritual masters?'

Noel laid his hand on his shoulder. 'Good to see you, Rufus.'

'Yeh... well, praise the Lord anyway!' grinned John Thom annoyingly and tucked into his sausages. Rufus sighed and asked for a lift home.

'That guy,' said Noel, after he'd gone, 'is going to be really good when he comes to the Lord.'

Six or seven weeks passed. Bonds with the drug scene increased. A 'Life Squad' went out to the Black Lion on Friday nights. Other hippies and bikers came along and enjoyed the atmosphere at Bugbrooke. They also appreciated the help — sometimes of a bed or a meal. One biker from the 'Apache

Outlaws' was bailed out for theft. Slowly hearts were gained,

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a trust developed, and the Christians were welcomed on to hippy turf.

Chapel meetings grew in power, and increased to six evenings a week, with Friday night 'free in the Spirit' gatherings for the unconverted. Printed cards invited folk back to the Jesus Vibro! ('for under 30s life-seekers').

More teenagers were converted through Johnny's testimony and in March there were over a hundred people around.

Among the seven baptised was Val, the teacher, who shook under the power of God as she entered the water. Spiritual gifts were much in evidence: one man's gums were healed; words of prophecy and wisdom flowed forth and many sang in tongues.

Clearly God was honouring this move on to the streets. Some of the new friends began to open up and come to meetings.

'I'm searching for the truth,' said an Apache Outlaw to Malcolm one lunchtime. 'Last night I kicked in a Keep Left sign so I could read the Scriptures better.' More and more of these guys were identifying with the Jesus People and responding to their love.

Rufus came that Easter with Jess and some other freaks.

Most of them were high on pot, and Rufus let his guard down.

They were all encouraged to shut their eyes, hold hands, and feel God's love. Jess thought it an improvement on the Krishna mob, but was offended by a straight who offered to replace her best patched jeans. John Cornish was 'mainlining' heroin and Paddy was stoned, but they stayed around and watched the baptisms the next day.

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'Let it flow! Let it flow!' they all sang. Someone shook their hands. '...Let the love of Jesus flow through you and let it flow through me!'

They peered hazily out of their long hair.

'Man,' said Paddy, '...this is better than any acid trip!' They decided to finish with dope and were prayed with. Paddy came off with no withdrawal symptoms.

A few days later, Paddy was praying in his house, asking

God to make himself real. It was late morning and his friends had already gone to All Saints. A moment came that he never forgot. He felt a fire on his head that seemed to pass right down through him and out of his hands.

'It was like I was being flushed right through,' he was soon telling John Cornish excitedly. 'I felt clean — all white inside, and full of love.' Immediately he rushed down the street, bounded up All Saints steps and bought them all a cup of tea.

'That really freaked them out,' he chuckled. 'I'd never done that before!'

The fire spread. John came to the Lord and, in May, Paddy was baptised along with a friend, Mick. Mick had been mainlining heavily and his arms were full of ulcerations and scars. When he came up from the water the marks had all gone!

Trouble brewed up with the Outlaws. Some of them were into witchcraft and violence and didn't take too kindly to these Christian creeps. Kelly and Johnny were in the Black Lion one Friday night when a fight broke out. They left quickly with a girl who needed help, but were pursued by two Hell's

Angels with sticks. One took a swing at Kelly, but before the

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blow could land, the biker sank to the floor — Johnny was an experienced fighter! He turned to Kelly sheepishly. 'I thought it was right in the Spirit,' he said. Kelly grinned, took a look over his shoulder and ran to the car. They hopped in — just in time. The gang surrounded them and started to turn the car over.

'Kelly,' said Johnny, 'I think we ought to go home.'

'Yes, Johnny,' said Kelly, '...certainly!' Kelly hit the ignition and they lurched into the night.

Rumours went round that Johnny and Kelly were in for some 'treatment'. The following night the Apaches planned to bust the chapel open but, by a stroke of providence, a more important 'rumble' cropped up somewhere else.

A few days later the President, Nicky, came with a few mates and sat on the front row with knives and sticks. Nicky was huge and vicious. Kelly eyed him from the platform and swallowed hard; Norma gripped his arm; and Noel preached as normal. The rest was up to prayer, worship, and God. The presence of the Lord was real and, by the end of the meeting, Nicky's heart was softened. Kelly came down and embraced him. They struck hands and Nicky threw off his Angels' gear.

When a reporter from Northampton came to investigate, Nicky told his story: We used to carry 12-bore shotguns in the Chapter and I really enjoyed violence. We came over to create a disturbance but by the end of the evening I really felt I had found some sort of truth. People were happy. I took off my colours, broke my stick in two, and gave it to Noel. It was notched for every time I used it.10

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When John Thom and Nicky visited All Saints, Nicky told his mates what God had done for him. At first they couldn't believe it. Then John watched one of them go white and start to tremble. Hoss was into black magic and the occult.

That following Sunday, the chapel heard that Hoss was on his way to the service. The pre-meeting prayer time became very animated and God gave one brother an impression of Hoss lying prostrate on the floor. Hoss arrived with three of his coven, and settled down at the back. They sat with hands joined, chanting the Lord's Prayer backwards and trying to put a curse on people.

The worship grew in power and they began to panic at the sound of the name of Jesus. The chorus, 'Oh there's power, power, wonder working power in the blood of the Lamb!' was terrifying and the tambourines were deafening! Eventually the satanists clambered desperately out of the pew and rushed to the door. But before Hoss could reach the exit he turned sickly pale, clung to the pillar and keeled over. He hit the floor like a dead man and was carried down the aisle into the back room for deliverance ministry. After a while, he came to and found peace with God.

'It was love that cracked me!' he said, as he lay weeping on the floor. 'It was love that cracked me!'

Hoss and Nicky were changed men, but hardly instant saints, as Malcolm's diary reveals. 'Hoss renamed himself

Isaiah. Nicky reacted and punched him in the eye. Theme tonight — love.'

Dave had to confess to Kelly that he'd broken the suspension by cramming eight people into his car! They also ferried peo-

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

ple to the meetings in two minibuses. It seemed the village was being invaded by these colourful, hairy drop-outs and unwashed bikers. (Pete Matt and Carol had some interesting guests at their wedding!) Some hung around outside or even nipped over the wall into the neighbour's back garden to enjoy a quiet 'joint'. She wasn't very amused!

The police became aware of the chapel link with the drug scene and the amazing changes in some of their clients. Paddy appeared in court for supplying methadone. He would normally have been sent down, but in view of his conversion, the magistrate took a lenient course. 'The Jesus Movement', said the defence, 'has done something for this young man when he was heading in one direction only — borstal.'11

There was a danger that the chapel would become a place of drug dealing. It wasn't easy to keep order. Noel spoke of 'upholding the holy name of God', and maintaining discipline in the camp. The chapel was to be treated with respect and smoking and drugs were strictly banned. However, a fight broke out in the manse car park between the bikers. The front door was kicked in and the police were called out.

Village teenagers would swarm around, too, fascinated by the goings on. They would sit on the wall of the Baker's Arms and cheer the Jesus freaks as they went in and out of chapel.

Chapel members were losing their aura of respectability as they learned to share 'not only the gospel of God but [their] lives as well' (1 Thess. 2:8). Time, money, prayer and patience, burdens, disappointments and tears were all thrown into this work. John Thom was always on duty. He seemed never to sleep!

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Homes were opened up and sometimes Kelly and Norma would be up all night nursing someone through 'cold turkey' and the traumas of withdrawal. Often there was heartbreak as, around the summer months, many came — only to vanish again. There were few to care for them, and a lot of those who received help and prayer went back to their old scene — some, to an early grave.

Verna, Dave, Kelly, and the rest, considered it an honour to serve these drop-out friends. How much they needed the love of God! Verna would weep with joy to see them come through to Jesus. It was the answer to so many prayers over the years.

'Let's have a feast and celebrate,' the father of the Prodigal

Son had said. 'For this son of mine was dead and is alive again' (Luke 15:24). The fellowship was greatly enriched by these new young believers who brimmed over with gratitude and enthusiasm. But there was still the 'elder brother' tendency to reject them. Self-righteous Christianity has so frequently turned away those whom Christ loves. Those who identify with them are likewise scorned. At Bugbrooke, being pentecostal was bad enough, but now they had turned into a bunch of offbeat hippies! In the eyes of some village folk, and of some of the other churches, Bugbrooke Chapel had already gone too far.

Rufus bumped into a transformed Paddy in town, now into Jesus and looking really healthy. Paddy was off heroin and had a regular job. Rufus was impressed; both were miracles!

'This Jesus trip must be good — for a junkie — but, so shallow!' he thought, and continued on his way, chanting.

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Noel started to visit Rufus and Jess at his mum's. One day

Noel and John Thom came in when they were meditating.

Noel chatted with Rufus but Gilly, his adopted brother, sat in the lotus position, oblivious.

"Ere! — Gilly, bro,' said John, 'don't you think you're being rather rude?'

'I reckon he's achieving more through meditation, John, than you are through talking,' Rufus objected angrily.

'You really ought to respect our friends here,' said Noel quietly. 'You ought to apologise, bro.'

John humbled himself and apologised. This amazed Rufus and Gilly: these guys were crashing through the barriers. They could relate.

Rufus was in the back garden one sunny day pruning his 'grass' plants when Noel appeared. A stab of guilt hit him and he dropped all the leaves.

'Why should this Christian guy make me feel unclean?' he thought as he ran around in a temper, picking them up.

'Praise the Lord!' said Noel.

'Yeh, but why don't you just praise Krishna as well?' answered Rufus.

But Noel would never argue. He listened as Rufus enthused about his books on astral projection and his times of fasting and meditation. Rufus felt someone appreciated him. He began to think that these were the most solid guys he'd met.

He'd seen Gurus, talked to Zen masters and heard the pioneers of the LSD movement, but these Christians had something extra. Rufus and his friends spent ages trying to work out what it was. In the end they put it down to faith. These other guys had powers and abilities, but they hadn't got faith.

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Most religious types managed to put Jessie's back up. Noel and John didn't. They treated her with respect, and she liked them.

'Jess would make a good New Testament woman!' Noel once said laughingly.

'What do you mean by that?'

'Well, the Bible says that wives find fulfilment in loving and serving their husbands. They have lovely, gentle spirits.'

That appealed to Rufus.

Meanwhile, the new Jesus hippies were heavily involved in church life and evangelism. John Cornish took over from Malcolm, supplying books, badges, Bibles and stickers, while Paddy helped edit a Jesus People-style paper, Jesus Reality.

Headings appeared like 'High On Jesus!' and 'Satanist Finds

The Only Way Out'. By June the press caught the scent. The Northampton Chronicle and Echo sent a young reporter around and she wrote this: Dumbo the elephant decorates the blackboard, second hand furniture fills the room and a middle aged Sunday School teacher is positioned at the piano, when suddenly a guitar starts up, tambourines join in and the Jesus Movement of Bugbrooke takes voice. And from that point, any connection with the Established

Church ends. Their meetings are revivalist, Jesus is the focus and their religion is community based... Already £600 was raised in one collection, but a lot more is required for their Housing

Association. Mr Stanton is unperturbed by the problem. 'Jesus will provide,' he says. And it's very easy to believe him!12

Noel commented in the chapel bulletin:

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

When God moves everything happens! What a story! Large congregations, generous giving, a wonderful sense of love, and many turning to Jesus. There are many pressures, some disappointments, occasional abuse and false gossip. But Jesus is Lord and by the Spirit we have continuing victory. There is a great revival of faith arising in Britain. The Jesus Movement is hot news. We ourselves are receiving many letters and phone calls.

People come from long distances. BBC Radio has contacted us.

But in the midst of all this we must maintain a close walk with God.

At this time God gave them a prophetic 'wisdom-picture' of a wheel with hub and spokes, the hub representing the committed core of the church. Revivals have often failed as numbers increased. The hub at Bugbrooke must grow stronger to hold the growing church together.

The summer retreat in Matlock was a timely regathering of strength. Noel took the theme of deepening. Though their liberty was growing, they saw that the backdrop must be holiness and full surrender to Christ. The hymn, 'Burn fire of God, my ransomed soul possessing' moved many to tears.

Jesus was to be all in all. They were choosing a path of fierce, loving abandonment to Christ and his kingdom.

Noel spoke from Timothy and Titus on God's order within the church. He also introduced them to the writings of Watchman Nee who had just died after twenty years' imprisonment in China. Nee had pioneered churches in China and many regarded him as a prophetic voice to the West. In his book, The Normal Christian Life13, Nee emphasised baptism, separation from the world and the distinctiveness of the church.

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At Matlock the theme of commitment was foremost. Fulfilment of ministry in the church was a priority, and jobs in the world came second.

The leaders called six of those recently baptised into the centre of the room. Hands were laid on them, and words of wisdom and prophecy given concerning their ministries within the church. This became a regular practice after the example of Paul and the elders laying hands on Timothy (2 Tim 1:6), and the fellowship called it 'ministry for ministries'.

Matlock was a time of dancing and fun and sharing. Community whetted their appetite for closer fellowship, and the hub was restored. When they got back to chapel you could tell who had been to Matlock: they danced!

At this point, I (Simon*) turned up from Oxford with the latest Watchman Nee books under my arm. My home was nearby and I had just finished my zoology degree. I'd gone as a confirmed atheist but a sudden encounter with God's love had brought me to Jesus and gave me a longing for the reality of New Testament Christianity.

Entering Bugbrooke Chapel was like walking into a sea of life. It was very colourful, very diverse and very turbulent. I was met by warm unpretentious villagers, a host of Jesus teeshirts, and a bunch of freshly converted hippies. Coming straight out of the Christian Union it was all a bit overpowering, but was just what I needed.

It was a good time to arrive. People were being converted and filled with the Spirit all over the place. The church had vision. Noel's preaching was biblical and full of passion. I

* See preface

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liked him and figured that any friend of Watchman Nee was a friend of mine! I agreed with Val, the teacher, who had recently settled there. These people,' she said, 'have more potential for discovering what we see in the Acts of the Apostles than any church I know.'

6 Birth of a Culture

1972-73

The afternoon was hot — even for August. Most of us had marched in a 'Jesus Demonstration' through Northampton.

From Midsummer Meadow to All Saints Church we brandished our placards and shouted our Jesus shouts. Paddy rushed around with a broad grin accosting the general public. I felt highly embarrassed. But it was fun.

'Hi, man! Smile! Jesus loves you!'

Paddy thrust copies of Jesus Reality at some passers-by.

'Don't miss the Music Festival on Monday. It's far out!'

On All Saints' steps we knelt and prayed for the town. A few told their stories and we walked to a youth centre for the tea and Celebration Rally. As we worshipped, Val was laughing for joy. Yvonne, a schoolgirl, looked across at the liberated schoolteacher and smiled. The Spirit came upon her, too, and she sank to the floor and worshipped God.

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'Oh no!' she thought. The Lord was urging her to speak.

She got up, made her way to the front and began nervously.

'I was hearing things I hadn't even thought about — God working miracles today! People having a relationship with Jesus! I came the next night, and — wow! I felt warm inside.

Then laughter started to flood from my mouth. I was so happy with Jesus — I felt my inside was bursting out!'

The congregation fell about laughing. Paddy waved a tambourine and shouted 'Glory!'

Yvonne blushed and giggled. 'My mum thought I'd gone off my rocker! But now she's really keen. She's here tonight and she's coming to my baptism tomorrow!' The hall burst into applause and her mum hid her face in her hands.

Yvonne was baptised with seven others the next evening.

What a mix it was, too. It included a large housewife, a nurse, a black lady, Malcolm's physics teacher, and an eccentric old chap plastered in Jesus badges. It was beautiful to see them at the same level in Christ.

Kelly's and Verna's cottages were filling up and it was getting difficult to accommodate our many visitors. We began to think in terms of a large community house, and John Thom was keen to pioneer.

The seeds of community living had already been well sown.

The last three holidays proved the worth of being together.

What's more, Noel was impressed by Rufus. Something in Noel, the smart minister and business man, responded to his hippy lifestyle that scorned the world's values, lived simply, and sought some kind of spiritual brotherhood. It was out of this culture that the Jesus People had arisen, and Noel, al-

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ready challenged by the early Christians, found them an inspiration.

It seemed to many that God had raised up this Jesus Movement in the States as a demonstration of real brotherly love.

One author looked on in admiration:

These young people who formed communes... are the pace-setters and innovators... They radiate a quiet joy such as the early

Franciscans knew. Their music reflects a holy hilarity. They have offered the first inducement in years to make me want to be young again... They do not discriminate because of age, sex, race or status. They have broken down the barriers.14

We watched a film on the Jesus Revolution and a music group visited us from the Jesus People in the States. We felt God's leading in all this and continued to pray for Rufus.

'Read Hamlet, Rufus. Read Hamlet!' Rufus' dad poked his head out of the window as his train pulled out of Northampton Station.

Rufus knew that his dad was deeply depressed and was obsessed with thoughts of suicide. As he waved goodbye Rufus' heart was heavy. He knew Hamlet all right — 'To be or not to be...' The words drummed in Rufus's mind.

Within hours his dad was dead. Rufus felt desperate and helpless. What comfort could he offer his mum? Chanting and meditation were great, but it didn't help anyone else. As soon as he left the lotus posture the world closed in on him.

He'd grown sick of his life as an actor — of the unreality of it all. Jess had a baby — his mum kicked them out and he

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rented an empty house. He felt the responsibility of the baby.

He worked a long hard day for an Irish ganger and broke with dope. After a police raid, friends in London had gone down for two years on drug charges, and Rufus felt he'd had a narrow escape.

Purity was his goal now. He shaved his hair, leaving a pony tail — which Jess cut off! She detested the Hare Krishna scene that seemed to dehumanise her friends. There were blowups between them and Rufus would sometimes lash out and hit her. Dope no longer soothed his conscience and guilts came crashing in. He meditated three hours a day and fasted, but out on the building site he wept with cold and exhaustion.

Enlightenment seemed a million miles away.

In desperation, he read the New Testament and saw the idolatry in Krishna. The Gurus were also turning him off and stories of their affluence disgusted him. He plunged into macrobiotics and spent his money on special foods. Even the dogs were vegetarian! He dreamed of a houseboat on the river, and laid out £500, but the boat turned out to be rotten.

It felt kind of symbolic.

Then in the new year he met John Cornish. John seemed everything that Rufus wasn't — contented, relaxed, a picture of sanity.

'Wow! You're looking great!' said Rufus. 'What's that under your arm?'

John flushed and unwrapped a Bible.

'Man, you're really into it!'

Rufus longed for what John had. A friend gave him a tract about a cartoon hippy who gets ripped off, burned out, and ends up in a mess. Then the guy meets some Jesus People,

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gets saved, and goes round spreading the good news. Somehow it really touched Rufus.

He was glad when Noel and John Thom appeared. They would sit on orange boxes and sip herbal teas with Rufus and Jess. On one occasion they prayed and God's presence filled the room.

The crunch came three weeks later when Rufus devoured a swiss roll at his mum's place. That was macrobiotic sin. He came away despairing and, in a burst of anger, slammed the dog against the wall. The dog followed meekly after. Rufus turned and asked Jess whether she still loved him. 'Yeah!' she said. Rufus felt like he was falling apart.

Back home, he ran upstairs and shut himself in an empty room. There in the darkness he saw it all so vividly. The Tibetan Book of the Dead, the I Ching, the mantras he had chanted, the mandalas he had looked at, the numerous yogic postures he had learned, the kohans he had read, the mescalin and acid he had taken — they all seemed to be laughing at him. Rufus broke down and out of the darkness, he cried out to God: 'I can never get to you, Lord. You've got to reach down and pick me up.'

In a moment he knew: it was Jesus. He went downstairs to Jessie. 'Jess, what if we left everything and went round just telling people about Jesus. Would you come, Jess?'

She paused. 'What — with the baby — just telling people?'

'Yeah, with the baby,' said Rufus.

'Yes — I'd come,' said Jess.

Rufus went out to the phone kiosk. 'Look, Noel,' he said, 'I know I'm a sinner. I just want to find Jesus.'

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Rufus and Jess came to the next meeting. Rufus wore a greatcoat tied with string, and turned-down wellies. With two dogs and a baby they came in as tramps and were welcomed like kings. He looked around. These people were worshipping a powerful, invisible presence, and they looked radiant and fulfilled. Afterwards, Noel left him with a copy of Run

Baby Run15. He found the book disgusting — all blood and guts, but when he reached the place where the gang leader finds Jesus, Rufus entered into a great sense of forgiveness.

At the next meeting Rufus joined in the praise. Suddenly the finger of God touched him and in a moment he knew the Father's love. It was neat, undiluted love — powerful, but superbly personal. As he felt the dirt drain away, his knees went weak and he fell to the floor, weeping for joy.

Soon he was in London seeing his old mates. One of them, Ralph, was like a brother to Rufus. Ralph was so Communist that he had painted his door red, and on his bedroom wall had fixed a huge poster of Che Guevara.

'Rufus, mate,' he used to say, 'you're too airy fairy.' He enjoyed bringing Rufus down to earth but would still let Rufus badger him into going to something way out. He loved Rufus but couldn't keep up with his fads.

Rufus blew in and hugged Ralph.

'Praise the Lord, Ralph!'

'You what?' said Ralph.

'Praise the Lord! Glory! I've found Jesus — the constant high!'

'Oh no!' said Ralph. 'Not Jesus! You'd praise a matchbox if it could save you.'

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

That's right,' said Rufus. 'But I've found Jesus. Glory! You've got to come up and meet the Jesus People, Ralph.'

'Meet them! I'll come up and meet them!' said Ralph looking agitated. 'And I'll find out who's raking in the money!'

Ralph turned up in order to sort Rufus out. Rufus had really flipped this time. Christianity! Krishna had turned Ralph off — but Christianity! It reeked of all that was middle-class, imperialist and oppressive. Jesus was all right. He was for the people. But the church! The church! It was the religious facade of capitalist materialism.

Ralph sat next to Rufus in the upstairs lounge and sussed them all out. Most of them were right straights, he thought, but they looked pretty happy and liberated. Even Jess was getting into it. It must be the first scene they'd ever agreed on! Ralph smiled cynically. Then he felt uneasy. He was always going on about being free, breaking out, being yourself.

But he wasn't. He was bound up like everyone else — and he knew it. Oh, but not God. That was old hat.

Out of the blue, a lady stood up. 'The Lord tells me there is a young man here who is very cynical. But he wants you to know that he really loves you and wants to set you free.'

Ralph was stunned. He felt totally exposed — as if God was looking inside him — and he started to crumble. After that he didn't say a word for two days. If he became a Christian, then what about his ideals — equality, freedom, the brotherhood of man?

In the end he turned it over to God and, as he surrendered, a great peace came into his soul. The following evening he listened in amazement as Noel quoted a political idealist:

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We communists are the ones who get shot and jailed and slandered. We live in virtual poverty. We turn back to the party every penny we make above what is absolutely necessary. We don't have time for movies and concerts or T-bone steaks, or decent homes, or new cars. We are called fanatics. Our lives are dominated by one great vision. We have a philosophy no money can buy, and a purpose to fight for. It is my life, my business, my religion, my hobby, my sweetheart, my lover, my bread and my meat. I work at it in the daytime and dream of it at night. Its hold on me grows, not lessens — therefore I cannot carry on a friendship or even a conversation without relating it to this force that drives my life. I have already been in jail, and if necessary, I am ready to go before the firing squad.16 'How much more,' said Noel, looking in Ralph's direction, 'should we be devoted to the cause of our Lord Jesus Christ!'

With tears in his eyes, Ralph worshipped his newfound Saviour.

A week passed and another of Rufus' friends came to see what was going on. Mary was French — and the philosophical arty type. She was an 'acid head', her boyfriend was astrologer to the Beatles, and she was into Timothy Leary and the psychedelics.

When Rufus appeared in Chelsea, she watched him going round praising the Lord and hugging his old friends. It was bizarre, but unusually solid for Rufus, she thought. He was becoming human again!

Mary came up, and was lighting a fire when Ralph walked in, beaming. 'Mary,' he said, 'I've been converted.' She couldn't believe it: Ralph, the militant atheist!

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'These Jesus People must be miracle workers!' she thought, and decided to go along to a meeting. Bugbrooke, she imagined, was a barn in the country full of turned-on Jesus Freaks.

But not so. One guy was over forty, sporting a big red tie, braces and long balding hair. 'A typical eccentric Englishman!' she thought, as he approached her down the aisle just before the meeting. It was Noel. He said a few friendly words but in this atmosphere of holiness she felt exposed, and was lost for words.

The meeting began and soon they were singing in strange languages. Suddenly she was aware of the presence of God and in a flash she saw the meaning of the gospel. Jesus had died for her! The Bible was true! She could receive the Holy

Spirit!

Mary talked with Rufus into the early hours, and he told her she must give God her heart and love Jesus supremely. It was a simple choice of surrender, and Mary decided to give it a go. In the morning she hitched a lift to London and Jesus was the sole topic of conversation all the way! She packed up some essential things and gave the rest to her flat mate. Paintings, tapestries and writings were left unfinished. She said goodbye to London and returned that day to a new lifestyle — a sleeping bag on Rufus' floor!

Others friends got converted and moved in, and the little house was bursting at the seams. What with mattresses and sleeping bags, the baby, the dogs, and the frequent visitors, the new community hummed with life. Jesus People, bikers and freaks — converted, unconverted, or semi-converted — all sat where they could. Ralph and Mary cooked sausages in the kitchen, to Rufus' continued horror. But when he checked

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the Scriptures he failed to see a vegetarian Jesus, so he gave it up — much to the relief of the dogs!

Rufus also burned his mystical books. But the house quickly filled with black smoke and they all rushed into the garden!

The police soon got interested in all these hippy comings and goings, and at two in the morning the innocent freaks were busted! In came the law with a search warrant but all they found was a pile of Jesus leaflets and One Way tee-shirts.

Perplexed, they sniffed out a jar of herbal tea and took it away triumphantly for testing. As soon as the door closed, the hippies all rolled around laughing. Rufus had only just disposed of his last 'grass' plants.

By now John Thom was established in a house at Almond Close on the Bugbrooke estate. There he gathered some unlikely characters: a biker, an ex-monk, the eccentric chap with the badges, and a fairly normal Christian lad, who had turned up late one night on the back of his dad's Honda 50. It was a crash course in relationships; for John it was a crash course in leadership.

He also manned the 'Jesus Lifeline' telephone and recorded a new message late every night. 'Phone every day. Drive gloom away!' was the motto and up to sixty people a day left a recorded response to the message — some none too savoury!

Amidst all the excitement we needed to steer a firm course and see what God was doing. One thing was clear to us — a new society was emerging whose roots were not in an old tradition but in a new work of God.

There was a great mix. Students from Oxford began to visit us, three or four lay preachers had joined us, and God was

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sending professional people into our midst. The drop-outs woke up to find themselves disciples of Jesus (and got jobs!).

The straights were suddenly surrounded by converted freaks.

We just wanted to be together and see the work of God go forward. Church life was of overwhelming interest and there was little time for the world and its pursuits.

We didn't think much of the 'goggle box' and quoted this piece of ironic verse in Jesus Reality: 'The TV is my shepherd.

My spiritual growth shall definitely want. It maketh me to sit down and do nothing for his name's sake.'17

We began to see how unconventional the first disciples of Jesus were. They kicked the system. They broke the mould.

They trusted God. They left all else and shared in great simplicity. Around Jesus arose an upheaval of such dramatic proportions that the establishment put him down.

Where did we stand? For revolution? Yes! A revolution of love. A revolution that would turn the world's values upside down. But that required commitment, and some among us didn't want the hassle. There were many new converts but too few of us poured out our lives for them. Revival was blessing at a cost. We had enjoyed the charismatic blessings, but would we get on the charismatic cross?

Some of the young Christians were overtaking us in their radical devotion to Jesus; others were rapidly backsliding.

They could not be absorbed into our middle-class lives. God was forcing us to see that we had to make a choice between the world's culture and Christ's church. We knew that the spirit of British culture had to go. A marvellous thing then emerged. Relationships formed that were spiritually based,

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and as we worshipped together a sense of brotherhood was born.

God gave us wisdom urging commitment to each other. One of us saw a huge golden crown shining in the darkness, and many joined in a circle to lift it into the air. Its glory attracted many more, who helped to lift the crown. Others hung around, fascinated, but refused to shoulder the burden, and slowly shrank away into the darkness. We saw that coming under Christ's authority meant unity.

The path of discipleship seemed to blaze out before us from the Scriptures. Jesus compared the kingdom of God to a banquet which, sadly, most were too busy to attend. He also likened it to a tower, and told his disciples to count the cost of building it (Luke 14). The church would never be built on 'cheap grace'.

'Grace is costly,' Noel quoted from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, 'because it compels a man to submit to the yoke of Christ and follow him.'18 For us, this would mean a new lifestyle. 'Any of you who does not give up everything he has cannot be my disciple,' Jesus had said (Luke 14:33). Some speak fearfully of these 'hard sayings', but obedience to them was the key that unlocked God's life amongst us.

We also found baptism in water to be increasingly significant. Alan was a busker and a registered heroin addict. With long blond hair and purple kaftan, he was a familiar sight in London. When he heard about Rufus, Alan came along to see us. In the first meeting he was born again and healed of addiction. In the second he was baptised in the Spirit. In the third he got baptised.

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These young prodigals demonstrated that new birth, baptism in water and in the Spirit were power encounters with salvation. Alan had a lot of old life to bury. His eyes had grown so weak from drugs that he wore shades. When he came out of the water his eyes were healed. Baptism was no mere confession of faith: it was power.

It was also an exit from the world's value system. 'Repent and be baptised,' Peter had cried. 'Save yourselves from this corrupt generation!' (Acts 2:38, 40). It was going to be tough, but Alan was identifying with the people of God.

Around this time we discovered Love Not The World by Watchman Nee. Nee wrote: 'Salvation is essentially a present exit from a doomed order... [In baptism] a whole world goes down with you. When you come up, you come up in Christ — in the ark that rides the waves. You have entered a new order of things.'19

Clearly the hippy culture was not the Jesus culture, but neither was the status quo. Everything in the New Testament cried revolution, transformation and a new society. 'If anyone is in Christ,' declared Paul, 'he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!' (2 Cor 5:17).

New creation became our theme song as we broke new ground. New creation called for a reassessment of values that had been drummed into us from birth. It meant hacking out a hallowed spot from the tangle of worldliness. It put a question mark on everything we did simply because everybody else did it. Television, theatre, sport, vacations abroad, religious festivals — they all came under the searchlight.

Many questions arose as we glimpsed the magnitude of God's will. 'Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS THE LORD TOOK HOLD OF BUGBROOKE

world,' he was saying, 'but be transformed by the renewing of your mind' (Rom 12:2). If it was a choice of moving with God or running with the crowd, then the matter was already settled.

The writings of A. W. Tozer encouraged us a great deal. He insisted that the church was 'a despised minority group standing in bold moral contradiction to the world... a division of soldiers on foreign soil, a brotherhood of like minded men.'20

We agreed.

By the summer of 1973 we were getting known. Our stance towards traditionalism and worldliness upset a few people.

Some felt threatened. We appeared a provocative bunch and we no doubt lacked the depth and humility of a Tozer.

But here we were, a church of renewed village chapel-goers, converted freaks, pentecostals, professionals and the odd academic. Add to that the relentless energy of the Holy Spirit, and the melting power of God's love, and you had the ingredients of a new society.

Awake O Zion!

1973-1978

7 Community

'Lord,' Victor had once said, 'if you want me to marry Sheila, then make this wart on my finger go down!' He opened his eyes. The wart had gone! Victor had these kind of dealings with God.

Back in 1961, as a young Anglican at Art College, he'd experienced God's forgiveness. Then one day he read in Acts

10: 'For they heard them speaking in tongues and praising

God' (Acts 10:46). 'If this is for now, Lord,' Victor prayed, 'let me have it.' He got it, and immediately felt a strong urge to live and share with other Christians. But nothing came of it.

Victor plunged into his career and got married.

Now in his early thirties, he dreamed of a yacht and a luxury home by the sea. He was already a qualified architect, a deacon in the Baptist Church, Superintendent of the Sunday school, and President of the Lay Preachers Association in

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Taunton. Things seemed good. However, his sensitive nature was stifled by ambition. Christian duties, a young family, and the strain of work were taking their toll and the doctor put him on tranquillisers.

Victor sought God afresh and decided to make a clean break.

Northampton was a growing town and the Development Corporation was advertising for landscape architects. God gave him a positive nudge and a well-known charismatic leader suggested he check out a lively little church called Bugbrooke.

It was a cold February night when he turned out in a suit for the mid-week meeting. He just reached the top of the chapel lounge stairs when Noel greeted him warmly. Their eyes met. 'Whoops!' thought Victor, 'He can see right through me.' Somewhat unnerved, he looked around. Before him was a group of hairy hippies. Victor groaned inside as a heavylooking biker caught his eye and walked over. Victor froze.

'Well, this is it!' he thought.

'Bless you, bro! It's great to see you!' Kelly gave him a warm hug and Victor relaxed. They talked a while and then the meeting took off. A brother prophesied powerfully and Victor was a bit awe-struck. Then Noel spoke on eldership and how it was a lifelong commitment to the church.

'Just as well I'm not an elder,' Victor thought.

He stayed with a couple in the fellowship for a few months and travelled home at weekends.

Noel chatted to him one evening. 'I'll look forward to seeing you at the elders' and deacons' meeting next Monday.'

'Help!' thought Victor.

He often went home to Sheila with interesting stories.

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'This long-haired communist, Ralph, turned up the same night as me,' he related. 'He came to the Lord. Oh, and one ex-junkie called Paddy plays this weird instrument. It's a long pole with bottle tops on, and a boot at the end! He's getting married in July and the fellowship have bought a 'Jesus house' for them in Northampton.'

'They've started this meeting on Mondays called PLAN — Power and Love in Action Now. It's for all the dynamic young people — including me! Some of them reckon it's more real than the leaders' meeting. They're so committed! Last week

God was so real some people were prostrate on the floor.'

'By the way,' said Victor, tucking into his breakfast, one

Saturday morning, 'Noel's invited me to the leaders' meeting. We'd better pray, you know. If I accept this I think we're in it for life!'

Sheila came up and was taken aback by the love in the fellowship. They took the plunge and bought a house in Northampton. In June there was a house warming 'holy love-feast' at their new home. It was a timber-framed house with the lounge on the first floor and Victor's architectural mind did overtime as he watched sixty sweaty charismatics move into a time of worship! Sheila was a solid evangelical schoolteacher, but was delighted with all she saw. They had married on the understanding that Jesus would come first. He was taking them up on it. It looked as if they were in for an interesting future!

In July a hundred of us packed our suitcases and headed for the Yorkshire Dales. When we arrived at the hostel in Malhamdale we got a shock. So did the owner — it was a

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holiday centre for youngsters! We knew the Scripture, 'Unless you become as little children...' but this was ridiculous.

They let us stay, but it was iron bunkbeds and small portions for the rest of the fortnight!

Every morning we were woken up by a loud bell and, after breakfast, the keen ones stayed for the morning Bible study.

In the afternoon we went hiking, hill walking, cave exploring or swimming.

On the first day Noel went with Pete and Carol to visit the Bronte house on the moors. Carol went in with the baby while Noel read to Pete from a new book, A New Way of Living by Michael Harper. It described the Church of the Redeemer in Houston, Texas.

'Listen to this, Pete,' said Noel.

During Lent 1965 the group began to study the Acts of the Apostles, and were struck by the account in the second chapter of the way the Spirit-filled Church shared so completely. The Lord impressed upon them all that he wanted them to live this life together.21

Pete smiled. 'Hey, we're eight years behind them!'

'Oh, bro! We're getting there. We just need to grasp the vision. Rufus' lot virtually share everything already.'

'Yes, but what about the middle-class ?' said Pete, 'Do you think they'll swallow it?'

'We'll see — won't we?' smiled Noel.

Pete was silent and Noel buried himself in the book.

'Hey, bro,' said Pete, after a while, 'are you thinking about all of us moving into community?'

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Noel looked up. 'Why not?'

'Yeh,' said Pete. He looked out of the window — it was a beautiful afternoon. 'Man!' he said — under his breath.

Practical sharing began in earnest that week. Apart from midnight distributions of apple pies and Mars bars, there were more serious needs. Some folk were only there because others had paid for them. Then there were all the requirements of the two new Jesus Homes in Northampton — the house for Paddy, and also a house for Rufus and his friends. Rufus' house was fairly run down and needed a lot of work, and they were still far short of the initial mortgage price. A hat was left out in the meetings. On one day alone they got £200. One brother pledged his life insurance and another threw in the £100 he was saving towards his dream minibus.

As the fortnight progressed we sat more lightly on our possessions. God wanted to own us completely: our affections, our time and our goods. The example of the Redeemer Church was a massive inspiration and Noel frequently read from the book. 'Each of them,' he read 'began to live a life of simplicity. They stopped buying new cars and televisions. Possessions were of value only for their usefulness to the community.'22

Our wallets continued to open along with our hearts. Somehow this material sharing released the floodgates of brotherly love. Laughter and tears flowed into the meetings as the bond of love increased.

One brother had been a sergeant major and wore a moustache to prove it! Long haired hippies weren't quite his scene, but the Lord burst his heart open. For him Malhamdale was unforgettable:

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The atmosphere was terrific. It was family. At Malhamdale we really saw the vision of community. It's hard to describe such deep ministry. We were crying with joy — I mean everybody, including Noel. You never wanted the meetings to end. You just wanted to sit there and know the love. It brought everyone through — I mean, if you weren't real for the Lord, you'd never have stood a fortnight of it!

'It was fun too!' said his wife. 'We played tricks on each other, like tying all the bedroom door knobs together. One night I jumped into bed and someone had put a load of dried peas in it!'

Many of us remembered worshipping down in the caverns and tunnels of White Scar cave. 'Jesus, Jesus, let me tell you what I know,' rang out in echoing harmonies and rounds as the Jesus People made their way singing through the underworld, accompanied by some skilful playing on the stalactites.

At Malhamdale the Spirit was bringing a new sense of unity and power which confronted the forces of darkness. Noel taught on the spiritual warfare and there were quite a few demonic manifestations. Some from the nicest people you could know.

At this point I made an exit. I felt as though I had a hard shell around me that wouldn't break and I couldn't get into the flow. So I went home to lick my wounds and try to pray. I passed Victor and his family arriving for the second week and saw his acute embarrassment as an older sister flung her arms around him! I wished him luck! But he fared better than I, being a humbler man. Victor was determined to lose

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his reserves and relate to people. Already he was wearing jeans and letting his hair grow longer. From the hippy side, Ralph also made a concession. His waist-long hair was cut back to his shoulders!

Victor sat comfortably in the evening meeting surrounded by his new 'family', and enjoyed the wealth of ministry.

'I saw coloured drops of water,' said Verna. 'They were falling into a pool and being absorbed; it produced a thing of great beauty.'

'That's us losing our independence and getting "lost" in the body of Christ,' Victor thought.

'Yeah! I saw this really long piano. I mean reeeaally long,' said a new brother, stretching his arms out wide. 'There were lots of people all sat down and playing together nicely like — all in 'armony.'

'Er... the many gifts and ministries' thought Victor.

'Well! I've got some liquorice allsorts here,' said another brother, jumping up and producing a paper bag. 'This one's solid liquorice. Mmmm nice!' he said, popping it into his mouth. 'Ah! Now this one is all soft inside!'

'I wonder what gift he's moving in,' thought Victor, smiling to himself. By this time, most people were looking enthralled

— and hungry.

'But we need them all!' the brother continued. 'We can't go it alone. Each one here's special. And, what's more — there are no wrappers on these!' He grinned and popped a coconut sweet into his mouth. 'I'll tell you what the Lord is doing with us — he's taking our wrappers off. Yes! Taking them off! And mixing us all up.'

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Tears of laughter were streaming down Paddy's face.

Victor smiled at Sheila. He remembered his longing for community after he'd first been baptised in the Spirit. Now God was restoring that vision. All sense of isolation melted away as he moved on into worship.

A lad in the next seat started to groan. 'I think he needs healing for his stomach,' thought Victor, as the groans increased. Suddenly there was a blood-curdling scream. Two brothers pounced in and nearly knocked Victor off his chair.

The demon vacated the scene and the worship continued.

Sheila gripped Victor's hand. This was different from Sunday

School in Taunton.

At Malhamdale we considered how to work the vision out.

Many who lived outside Bugbrooke considered moving in to be where the action was. There were schemes for bulk buying, for a second-hand clothes store, and for sharing lists of needs and gifts. A 'Love Community Fund' was also to be set up. As we lived more cheaply, so money would be released to meet needs and buy houses. Already there was a target of £50,000 for the Housing Association.

Three types of community homes were envisaged. Jesus

Family Homes would be simple extended families. Jesus Welcome Homes were to be larger frontline houses for evangelism. Jesus Central Homes in the Bugbrooke area would be at the heart of things to train Christians within community.

Underlying the practical plans was the grand theme of the restoration of God's house. We had a song based on the New

Testament: 'We are being built into a temple'. But it wouldn't be easy, as I'd already found. God was not constructing a theo-

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logical castle in the clouds, he was cementing together human lives, and that meant pain. Our independence was deeply ingrained. Only by embracing the cross could unity be established.

'Individualism has been the bane of the churches,' wrote

Michael Harper.23 The Redeemer Church had confronted this problem and got down to the nitty gritty of committed relationships. We read of how they cut down their activities, entered a phase of building and got criticised by other Christians for being introverted.

In Britain, too, the charismatic scene was muddled about commitment. 'The movement is robust, but amorphous,' observed Michael Harper. 'It majors on individual piety and spiritual drive rather than the creation of a new corporate dynamic.'24

The first Christians were 'one in heart and mind' (Acts 4:32), standing 'firm in one spirit, contending as one man' (Phil 1:27), and 'with one heart and mouth' they glorified God (Rom 15:6).

But in our day independence prevailed and many of us were coloured by it.

Were evangelicals overbalanced in their emphasis on a 'personal relationship' with Jesus? Did books idealise individual success stories? Did too much stress on grace lead to lawlessness and lack of authority? The problem taxed our hearts at Malhamdale. For many it was a case of 'blood, sweat and tears'. New converts faced less of a problem. They jumped in at the deep end!

In community the self-life gets exposed. Reserve, self-righteousness and self-love are painfully revealed. Love of possessions and the insistence on personal guidance, worldliness,

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insensitivity and lack of submission to the church — all these harm the life of the spiritual family and have to be faced up to.

At Malhamdale there was a prayer room where some had real dealings with the Lord. Val felt she ought to buy a house on the estate in Bugbrooke. Already she was travelling six nights a week to chapel. Once on the estate she would be putting people up every weekend, ministering late at night, or even cooking for the Almond Close brothers! There would be much commitment, little privacy and fewer visits to her family. After a struggle she abandoned herself to God's will, and rushed out of the room laughing for joy!

For Victor and Sheila the atmosphere of love was a whole new world. In Taunton Victor had engaged in duties, but here was life. Once he had been open to the world, but now he was open to his brothers. He had heard about the need to be 'covered' — to come under the mantle of the body of Christ. That's how it felt — secure and in place. As the strain lifted from his mind, Victor felt enfolded in God's love.

They all came back from Yorkshire to a greater or lesser degree transformed. Happily, I had found some encouragement from God and was around for another try. We were moving on explosively with frequent demonic manifestations in chapel.

It was not uncommon to have the preaching interrupted by screams and flying hymnbooks, and Kelly leaping into action from the platform.

On one occasion a man with a violent demon was taken into the vestry behind Noel. A scuffle went on and we could hear the sound of breaking furniture, while the cross on the wall

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swayed from side to side. Noel continued to speak with a calm smile. He didn't overemphasise the demonic.

In Northampton the two Jesus homes at Argyle Street and Harlestone Road filled up. The weekly notice sheet got longer.

'Is This Your Ministry?' it said on the back. 'Help needed for decorating... Someone required to organise bulk buying...

Lawns need cutting... Sister wanted to type new chorus books.'

The Love Community News section included all sorts of jottings: 'Ralph is working as odd job man... Alan is available to dig gardens... Please bring surplus fruit, veg and clothes to the chapel... Dave and Karen have room for two single people...'

In September I went off to Plymouth for a breather to do teacher training but news of Bugbrooke followed me there. A friendly but extravagant article appeared in The Daily Mail: More than 200 people in a village of 800 have dramatically dedicated their lives to Jesus. Nowhere else in Britain has experienced such a concentrated surge of religious fervour. So many want to be part of the Bugbrooke Miracle that some travel for miles almost every day to attend prayer sessions... So much was written about the Jesus Freaks. But the pattern here, though similar, is dramatically different. For this extraordinary revival slashes through all barriers of age and background.25

Our fame spread. 'What Wesley did for gin, the movement does for drugs,' reported New Society.26 We were wary of publicity, but there was no holding back the secular media.

Television companies got wind and Thames Television began

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to film a documentary on how The Lord Took Hold Of Bugbrooke. Community was in vogue at this time and a team from Redeemer Church arrived in England. There were many ventures in communal living and some declared that this was God's contemporary word to the church.

At Argyle Street, conditions were primitive. Victor went to live there for a few days and insisted they make no special provisions for him. They didn't. When he arrived Ralph had ripped out the kitchen and Victor helped wash up in the bath.

Floorboards in the lounge were missing, windows were out and the holes covered with sacking. Jess and French Mary cooked chapatis over an oil stove in the lounge and they all sat round on milk crates and chairs from the tip!

Victor sat down to table. They thought it was marvellous — this straight coming to live with them and share their brown rice! They hugged him and welcomed him home. Rufus's bright eyes fixed on Victor, looking for some fatherly lead.

'Well,' coughed Victor, 'let's say grace.'

'What an amazing idea!' they thought. Alan grabbed his busking guitar. Rufus fetched his bongos. The rest reached for spoons, pans, teapots — anything. As the half hour 'jamming' session took off, several of them sang their heart out spontaneously while the rest accompanied on the cutlery.

Victor enjoyed this 'psalming' and felt years younger.

After the meal they sat round talking. Some of it was hilarious. Alan and Rufus were great extroverts. Then the music session took off again with great gusto and shouts of 'Glory!

Praise the Lord!'

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Life generally at Argyle Street was no less zany. It was a legendary era. With a light-hearted Alan around it was difficult for anyone to stay in the 'poms' (poor-old-me's)! By comparison, Sunday mornings at chapel were rather tame, and they didn't bother going — at least for a while!

Victor had a great week and the hippies were touched by his humility and warmth. Not everyone was as willing as Victor to lose their pride and melt into the pool of community.

Christians can be tough old nuts! But God was cracking us open.

Away at Plymouth, my attempts at teaching were a disaster. When my motorbike blew up in the middle of Dartmoor, I threw in the towel, came home, and dived in.

8 Mud, Sweat and Tears

Rodger laughed so much, he fell on his back! He hadn't always been so liberated, but that spring evening he, Pete, and I had come home inebriated — spiritually. It did us good. We needed loosening up. I was into prayer and fasting, Rodger was into logical thinking, and Pete, a guitar teacher, was into sleep and cream buns! They called us the three stooges: two

Oxford graduates and an amateur philosopher. I now worked as a school technician and we all shared a flat in Northampton.

Like us, more and more were coming together in some kind of community. Couples opened their homes to singles and some, like Val, moved into the village. Community was now the emphasis. Evangelism took second place but newcomers kept appearing. We concentrated on being a people for God and this caught the public eye. 'Following The Instructions

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Of Jesus — To The Letter' was an article in the local press.

'This is communism that works,' Paddy comments, 'because it's based on love.'

In June Thames Television screened The Lord Took Hold Of Bugbrooke. In one shot Paddy washed the same dishes six times over, while Alan told his story. In chapel cameras zoomed in on tongue-speaking worshippers, but it wasn't unpleasantly sensational. The crew were impressed and frustrated — impressed by our love, changed lives, and liberated worship (some tapped their feet to the choruses); impressed when we ministered healing to the producer; and impressed with words of knowledge concerning them; but frustrated when a demon was cast out. They had taken the afternoon off!

The film was followed by write-ups. 'Spotlight On Bugbrooke' was an excellent article in Evangelism Today. Amongst the secular press was 'Our Own Bible Belt' in The Daily Mail, 'The Bugbrooke Phenomenon' in The Northants Evening Telegraph, and 'Bugbrooke, Where Alleluias Come Bigger And Noisier!' in The TV Times. Some comments were amusing, like this in The Daily Telegraph under the heading 'Rolling In

The Aisles — A Proven Success':

Abandoning orthodox practices, the minister presents his flock with a form of worship compounded of American-style hot gospelling, a British-style knees up, total immersion, and a few gimmicks of his own. Among these are 'speaking in tongues' as related in Acts of the Apostles... It is difficult not to be impressed.

Above all there is an air of total innocence which does not always attach to the more extravagant religious sects. Bugbrooke may not be up front in the intellectual stakes, but it seems a

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reasonable bet that they have spread more happiness than harm.27

In fact, the church was in danger of being overrun by the intelligentsia. Students and professionals swarmed in like bees around a honeypot, but in God's wisdom the pace was set by the locals and the converts. There was some depth behind the raucous brotherhood of Argyle Street, and we all learned to live from the heart. 'Out of your belly,' said Jesus, 'will flow rivers of living water' (John 7:38 NKJ). In the atmosphere of released emotion and spiritual worship, many hearts were inspired and lifted.

Spontaneity, though, needed the balance of discipline. Many drifted in and out, flirtation between the sexes was a danger, and there was a need for holiness. We sought to be more accountable to one another and taught biblical discipleship and commitment. Some resented this and Noel replied with a rain of heavyweight quotes on the notice sheet from men like

Tozer and Nee. Cross-bearing, brokenness and death to selfliving, became the themes of the day.

The Lord now began to say, 'Take my people deeper!' Deeper into God and deeper into his kingdom. As the word of God's kingdom was proclaimed, I felt I was watching the parable of the sower in action. My spirit was excited (I'd found out where it was!) and I soaked up the vision. Some of us felt we had stumbled upon treasure and wanted to give everything to gain it.

But not all responded this way. 'Life's worries, riches and pleasures' (Luke 8:14) choked some lives, and slowly the summer crowds of 1973 thinned out. As we moved on into 1974

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two ugly giants reared their heads — worldliness and independence.

They had one effective cure — the cross — and it came in many shapes and sizes. For some it was the loss of worldly interests. The Spirit wasn't keen on aspects of our old life.

Apart from smoking and drinking, it was entertainment, television and secular music that gave way. When we were lukewarm, these things seemed all right, but in revival these amusements were hindrances to spiritual power.

The Lord challenged me, too. Heavy metal wasn't my problem, but giving up my stereophonic Sibelius was painful. I heard the call of Jesus to forsake everything and ditched my pipe and herbal tobacco, too! Many of us parted with relationships, possessions and pursuits that, though not sinful in themselves, hindered us in our quest to travel light and love

God supremely.

The cross cut us away from worldly opinions. By now we'd had enough of Christmas. Apart from the New Testament stance of avoiding 'special days and months and seasons' (Gal

4:10; Col 2:16), such so-called Christian festivals seemed full of hypocrisy. In family life, too, we gained a vision of loving authority, and determined to rear our kids for Christ. All this invited criticism — and got it!

The cross was reducing middle-classness to ashes as we took hold of a new lifestyle. It was breaking down the aloofness bred through education. We saw clearly that 'What is highly valued among men, is detestable in God's sight' (Luke

16:15).

The cross crucified our independence. Meeting so often didn't leave too much time to do our own thing. We moved in

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togetherness and opened our lives to input from others. Paddy and Rufus were exercising leadership within the Jesus houses and a male ruling authority was taking shape. That in itself was a cross for some.

Worldliness, too, was a headache. Here we were also fighting the contemporary Christian emphasis on liberty and anyone who found our commitment too taxing could always cry, 'Legalism!' Many who didn't hold our vision were keen to put us right. But we pressed on and ploughed our own furrow.

Prophetic voices and prophetic churches were scarce enough.

As Tozer once wrote: 'We desperately need seers who can see through the mist — Christian leaders with prophetic vision... And if they come, we will no doubt crucify a few of them in the name of worldly orthodoxy.'28

Separation from the world and brotherly sharing were becoming our hallmarks. It was time for the Jesus Fellowship, as the chapel congregation was now called, to move deeper into community.

Bugbrooke Hall, just up the road from Verna's cottage, had been empty for two years. Now very run down, it was due to be auctioned in June. Built by a rich squire in the early nineteenth century, this old rectory lay on the southern edge of Bugbrooke in thirteen acres of parkland — an imposing Georgian house of pale yellow brick, standing with its long annexe like a stately liner in a sea of grass. To the back was a courtyard complete with stable block and grassy cobbles. All around stood great trees of copper beech and oak, whilst a strip of woodland flanked the stone wall down to the pond.

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It was going to be pricey, but if we could raise the 10 per cent deposit we would be in with a chance. It was a risky venture of faith, and felt like crossing a rickety bridge over a wide river. But on the other side was a new land. After a time of discussion, Cyril, who was an architect, summed up the general feeling at the leaders' meeting: 'Cor! We can't afford to miss this!'

Two examples inspired us as we turned to the Scriptures.

One was Joshua taking the Promised Land through conquering faith. The other, in Acts 4, was how many in the Jerusalem church sold their possessions and 'put [the money] at the apostles' feet' (Acts 4:35). Our giving increased and people sold things off. Rings and jewellery were handed in. We had also begun buying in bulk and living more economically. One or two couples pledged their houses, desiring to move into the large home. Others gave or loaned their savings.

There was a tremendous sense of expectancy. Together we circled this 'Jericho' in faith. Some gave themselves to prayer and fasting, recognising that this was a spiritual battle. The Lord gave a word from Isaiah 1:19: 'If you are willing and obedient, you will eat the best from the land.'

The day of the auction came. Cyril sat at the front while Noel was at the back praying. The reporters watched Noel like hawks but soon directed their attention to Cyril who continued bidding. He'd hoped for a ceiling of £55,000 but stuck with it till they all dropped out at £67,000.

Rodger and I were thrilled when we heard. Pete drove us into the Hall grounds that summer evening, and I leapt out of the minibus and did cartwheels over the lawn. To me the park-

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lands were like paradise and the Hall was New Jerusalem!

Pete was more realistic and saw what was coming.

The battle of faith continued. We had the deposit, but where on earth would we find the rest? Everyone we approached turned down our application for a mortgage until one friendly bank manager pointed to the ceiling and said, 'Well, if him up there is on your side, I'd better help!' It wouldn't be the last time God would touch the hearts of influential people when we needed it.

In July, Dave Lantsbery and Steve, a converted young drunk, took possession of the old rectory — at two o'clock in the morning! The owls screeched all night as the pioneers tried to sleep in a dusty corridor upstairs. Dave was soon on holiday from teaching and went round the auctions for furniture.

Lots of people offered them stuff — boxes of crocks, sundae dishes and lemon squeezers — most of it useless! But we were in and the adventure had begun.

In July 170 of us left for Ashburnham Place in Sussex. God was taking us deeper, and it was here we all learned to 'meditate'. Or, at least, tried to!

Early one morning I stepped on to the lawn and headed for the woods. It was only six o'clock and the sun was drawing a haze from off the lake. At last I was alone with God. Gently I sang in tongues and felt my desert boots soaking up the morning dew. The donkey brayed noisily, but I kept my distance.

(The animal was notorious for biting Christian retreaters!)

Otherwise the silence was delicious. I sang out the interpretation and prophesied, then, turning off the path into the woods, I poured out my heart to God. I felt he had become my

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friend, and I found myself crying as I pondered his goodness towards us. As I walked along the lakeside a chuckle rose from deep within and I jumped into the air. A quick look to see if anyone was around, and then, 'Praise the Lord!' I shouted till my voice rang over the lake, and the donkey screamed. My days of academic introversion were over — well, almost!

Lots of us had been wandering round the grounds trying to 'prepare [our] minds for action' (1 Pet 1:13) and commune with God. It was a funny sight. Some walked through the woods musing and muttering while others sat on the grass and prayed.

One afternoon we had an hour of silence everywhere so we could listen to God. But the evening meeting was more liberated than ever because we'd been working hard to know and hear God ourselves. A Malaysian student recognised one tongue of praise as Mandarin Chinese and shouted out that the interpretation was correct. Many were sensing their spirit in new ways, ministering or psalming in the assembly.

A fascination with God developed. Corporate worship brought a sense of his presence, but listening to the 'still, small voice' was our need. So much knocked us off balance — our bodies so tuned to the senses, our souls so full of thoughts, feelings and desires. We needed to know God deep in our spirits, to leave behind spiritual adolescence and press on to maturity.

Community without spirituality would be disaster, and we determined to pursue God and follow the Spirit. Already fans of Tozer, we picked up his admiration for the mystics. 'True worship,' he wrote, 'is to be captivated and charmed and en-

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tranced with who God is, and struck with astonished wonder at the inconceivable elevation and magnitude and splendour of Almighty God. To love God with fear and wonder and yearning and awe.'29

The desire for God consumed other passions. The call was to union with God and 'perfect love'. We became aware of the stages of growth that Christian mystics spoke of — desire, discipline, conflict, purging, sweetness, illumination, and union. (And for some of us, the 'dark night of the soul'.)

It sounded grand, but we were a long way from being little mystics. Bible studies were optional. The campers spent most of their time drying off after the frequent downpours, and many stayed up late chatting or went out looking for glowworms. Some lay in bed in the mornings and we spent the afternoons walking, swimming and visiting the seaside. The donkey was a distraction, too. It nipped a few fingers and ran off with Verna's handbag.

Community was excellent for birthing inspirations and for earthing them, too. It was good to have people around to tell us we didn't need to fast for forty days or that we weren't quite ready for apostleship!

Ashburnham left a hazy memory of idyllic scenery, new horizons, meditation, tremendous praise and deepening brotherhood. But some remembered it for the mud, sweat and tears.

Mud — for the campers in the rain; sweat and tears for the many experiences of the cross as we surrendered our lives to God.

Also that fortnight it dawned on some that they were to be shepherds of the flock. The sadness of our evangelism was

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the drop-out rate. Few of the early bikers were around and some of the hippies had fallen away. The problem was that these young sheep were not being shepherded enough. Often the wolf picked off the solitary sheep who had been isolated and made vulnerable.

1974 was a year when the concept of shepherding was much abroad. Good shepherding was to bring depth and cohesion to the growing charismatic churches. We needed men we could follow. A group were maturing among us who carried particular wisdom and love, and we felt the time had come to recognise elders. Clearly God placed in the church 'some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God's people for works of service' (Eph 4:11-12). These ministries were emerging and we needed them desperately.

We hadn't recognised elders yet — those invited to the elders' and deacons' meeting assumed they were either deacons or awed spectators! A number of originals went, including Verna and Miss Campion. We realised that not everyone who attended had pastoral gifts. We needed to restructure the leadership without giving offence.

The solution was simple. Our fellowship began to plan a breakdown into shepherding groups — mid-week regional gatherings of up to thirty, designed for fellowship, caring, and ministry. During the Ashburnham retreat, we formed the groups and laid hands on the new leaders. A senior brother was to be assisted by two others in pastoral leadership. That was roughly ten 'sheep' to one 'shepherd'.

We now had a male eldership whose authority was publicly recognised — and frequently forgiven! (They were an imma-

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ture bunch.) I remember being annoyed at Pete for being an elder when I wasn't. I also remember Pete regularly handing in his resignation! Being a shepherd was no joke. You were pushed up to the front line and from then on you were supposed to be a guardian of others and a fount of wisdom. The qualifications for eldership in 1 Timothy and Titus were enough to make anyone quail (1 Tim 3:1-7; Titus 1:6-9). But at least we weren't into wine and brawling!

In community houses, being an elder meant continuous responsibility. All sorts of people came round and looked to the elders as examples of godliness. The shepherds learned to cast themselves on the Lord. They had to.

God gave us much wisdom about what it cost to be a shepherd. One picture was of a flock of sheep protected by a strong wooden fence. All over the fence could be seen the claw marks of the wolf. The sheep were safe, but the shepherds who protected them would suffer fierce attack. In another picture the true leader was seen as a servant with a mop and bucket.

Another scene showed a garden with flowers and trees while in the corner lay a heap of rich manure that the gardener used to nourish them. What was that? The leaders, of course!

Mud, sweat — and tears! A year ago, Malhamdale had been visionary, the first real sight of community. Since then, the cross had bitten deep and some were running from it. The self-life got us into trouble and messed it all up. God's word had to penetrate 'even to dividing soul and spirit' (Heb 4:12) and reveal our true motivations. Altars were built. Tears were shed. Sacrifices were made. Some were captivated by Jesus and considered remaining single for the sake of his kingdom.

'How few are the enraptured souls who languish for love of

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Christ,' wrote Tozer. 'The sweet "madness" that visited such men as Bernard and St Francis... is scarcely known today.'30

Wandering through the woods and lakes of Ashburnham, we paused, took a deep breath, and gazed into the heart of God. I was aspiring to be a charismatic mystic or an evangelical contemplative. But I came home to dig out sewers and rub shoulders with the drop-outs, ex-bikers and teachers. Our hearts were in heaven but we found our feet planted firmly on the ground!

9 New Creation Chaos

1974-75

Arriving back home at the Hall, Dave got a shock when he flushed the loo. The lead pipes had been ripped out and stolen while we were away! The lead had also gone from the roof and the rain came in. Nevertheless, we had big plans for this 'discipleship centre' and people were coming from all over to visit the Jesus Mansion at Bugbrooke.

Mark was an ex-biker who'd been converted from the Cheltenham drug scene. There he kept getting an impression of a large house with a veranda where Christians shared together.

Not having a clue where this was, he made his way to London. After a few weeks he told the Lord he would have to give up his search, but that afternoon he met a girl who told him about a chapel near Northampton that sounded interesting.

Mark rang the police. It was his last 10p.

'Oh, you mean Bugbrooke!' they said, and gave directions.

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Soon he was sitting in chapel, pony tail, earring, large ginger beard, and all. After creating a disturbance in the meeting, the likeable roughneck was prayed for, delivered from a demonic power, and settled in at the Hall to join Dave, Steve, and Malcolm's physics teacher. A few days later Mark walked across the back lawn and his eyes nearly popped out. There was the veranda!

Rodger, Pete and I came from the flat to join the pioneers at the Hall and were closely followed by John Cornish and Ian, a law graduate from my old college. Our numbers quickly increased. Mark went into town and accosted a drunken vicepresident of the Hell's Angels, who looked twice as fierce as Mark. Mark spoke to him about Jesus and stuffed an invitation card into his jacket. The 'Angel' soon turned up and moved in.

We were an odd bunch: ex-bikers, hippies and graduates, plus an ex-lay-preacher and her daughter, a pair of village newlyweds, and a Christian family who'd exchanged their council house for a 'mansion'! Life at the Hall was fun, chaotic and rough. We didn't care. If there was any time to lose our comforts, it was now. What we lacked in competence we made up for in enthusiasm. God was real and we were discovering brotherhood and sisterhood.

The house had wet rot, dry rot and woodworm. One bedroom was called the green room from the colour of the fungus where the rain trickled down the wallpaper! At weekends the place was packed out with people on the floors and there was a queue to move into community. If only they knew what it meant!

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The Hall needed restoration and redevelopment. (That was also true of its residents!) We formed a building team that summer. Kelly knew the elements of building and Alan the busker had done some bricklaying. It was a beginning. We had to lay new sewers quickly so Pete and I helped dig the trenches. I nearly cut Kelly's finger off with a spade.

We got a grant to convert the house into flats, which gave the families some privacy. Everywhere there was reconstruction. It seemed to symbolise what God was doing with us. In the chaos we were losing grip on our private life and possessions. Often we moved rooms. The building team advanced through the house and grounds leaving a trail of trenches, wreckage and rubble. Kelly's office was the back pocket of his jeans.

Pete was a guitar tutor and hunted for the place of least dust and noise. It didn't really exist! We would arrive home from work to find dust everywhere — or worse. It could be a hole in the wall and bricks on your bed. Alan wasn't too concerned about the niceties of fine living. The motto of the building team was, 'It's slow — but it's rough!' Pete painted his favourite text on the wall: 'Do all things without murmuring or complaining!'

Every Friday night, we swept the place for the weekend, but the dust from upstairs fell downstairs through the cracks in the floorboards. At one stage there weren't any floorboards, and one sister had to walk the plank to get to her room! The fun was when it rained. We would all be crammed into the dining room, perhaps, and at the sound of rain we would each

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grab a container and scatter. When the building team left a hole in the roof, we rigged up a contraption with a polythene sheet and drainpipes to direct the water through a bath and out of the back door. It all took the intensity out of life.

As the months rolled by, we formed friendships and often stayed up late talking. Sunday morning was a large breakfast time when John and I served as house deacons and prepared the scrambled eggs and porridge. Washing up was memorable. The cold tap gave a mild electric shock, sprang out from the wall, and showered us with water. If you stepped back you got stuck in the floorboards!

And then there were people. Everywhere. People milling around like sheep. Some you knew very well. Some you didn't get on with. Some you'd never seen before. And there were some who frightened you to death! I'd often go out for hours meditating in the fields, just to get away. Then there were Family Days when the whole church gathered on the Hall lawn. Some thought it was idyllic. Others disappeared up to the café for a long lunch.

That summer, I formed an unlikely friendship with Mark and often we would go for a walk and share our hearts. This was brotherhood, and it enriched us beyond measure. Kelly led the shepherding group at the Hall and one evening he shared this wisdom with us: on a large metal tray, there were some candles of different shapes and colours. A flame appeared underneath and melted them into one pool. That was a picture of unity. But the wisdom showed something more profound. The pool of wax reformed into many multicoloured candles. Each individual was enhanced by his brethren.

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At the Hall we saw this happening in front of our eyes. Far from losing our identities, we were gaining richer personalities as we came out of our shells and flowed together. We shared our gifts and inspirations and worshipped around the meal tables. Even work breaks were times of singing, prophecy and wisdom. Being together daily broke the barriers between the natural and the spiritual. Instead of being meeting-centred we became kingdom-of-God-centred, and our talents came into play. Helps ministries, administrative abilities, practical and caring gifts all mingled with spiritual inspirations.

Most of us worked for outside employers, but some began to work for the housing association as plumbers, decorators, builders or carpenters. A community Foodstore was established in the Hall stable block and this, along with the garage, employed people full-time.

We were finding our niches. Dave and John planted an orchard and established the bee-hives, whilst an ex-hippy tended the garden and concocted some rather suspect herb-drinks.

Another brother converted the cellar into a secondhand clothing store. Then we pooled our books and I became the librarian. The tomes poured in till we had twenty copies of Pray In The Spirit!31 and fifteen Nine O'Clock In The Morning's!32

In the new year John Thom came to live at the Hall with his group of brothers and warmed the place up by installing a central heating system. We spent all morning rigging up an old boiler with pulleys to lower it down the cellar steps. But John forgot to attach the ropes and the monstrosity went hurtling down. The house shook but the Hall and the boiler survived, and there were no casualties.

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Cyril, the architect, was trying to direct the exploits of the building team. They were young and zealous and did everything with abandon. At times he was desperately worried.

One day he was discussing the new heating system with John

Thom. Cyril asked him where he'd learned his plumbing. 'I never learned it, bro!' said John. 'I just got a book out of the library.' Amazingly, it worked!

People kept coming. Car loads of students visited from Oxford, among them Piers, my old friend from the Zoology Department, now doing a PhD in dung beetles, and Mike Farrant, Ian's old 'prayer partner'. Talk of Bugbrooke buzzed around the Oxford colleges, especially after one girl prophesied in a prayer meeting! Some of the Christian Union thought we were great. But not all the executive were so keen when students disappeared off to Bugbrooke for the weekend.

Another set of visitors was a group of girls from Wimbledon. Liz and Janie had already lived in a community in Coventry, founded by the Redeemer church. Now Liz, a secretary, and Janie, a teacher, had gathered six other girls with them and were working out the principles of discipleship and community. They were attracted by the fellowship and within six months had moved up into extended families.

One family came from Aylesbury. 'Here, read this, Mum,' said Maurice, one Saturday evening, tossing a copy of Nine

O'Clock In The Morning on to the table, 'I'm off to Bugbrooke.'

Mum read it and was enthralled. 'Lord,' she prayed, 'We've been seeking this for years!' The following week Marion and Lionel, her husband, drove to chapel with their two sons. All of them were baptised in the Spirit that night.

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Maurice's brother, Steve, was a bit of a lad with red hair and a cheeky grin. When the family were baptised, they received many words of wisdom and encouragement, apart from Steve. All he got from the Lord was a picture of a brown parcel inside which was a golden crown. Only later did we understand. Steve was enthusiastic and motored up on his bike through all weathers to the Hall. It wasn't long before he moved in.

There were now about thirty of us squeezed into 'New Creation Hall', and many others at the Welcome homes in Northampton, in extended families, or at Verna's and Kelly's cottages at Great Lane (now with shared courtyard and duckpond).

We called the community aspect of the fellowship the New

Creation Christian Community. New creation was the theme and a distinctive 'kingdom culture' began to take shape.

We took a newspaper, but there was no place for television or radio in our community houses. We didn't go out for our entertainment either. There was enough at home! Some of us became more creative, learning instruments, and writing poems or journals. Pete enjoyed painting, wrote songs, and was occasionally seen up a tree practising the violin. We couldn't stand the noise of it in the house!

We began to share more of our things. Guitars, tape recorders, and even cars were pooled. God was telling us to live more simply. Giving away your best shirt could be quite sacrificial and deepened friendships. Sometimes we had 'honouring days', when some unsuspecting brother or sister would

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be showered with gifts, sweets, pictures, poems, prophecies and lots of love and esteem.

At the Hall, we often had four brothers sharing a large room.

Sometimes we welded hospital beds together into bunks — all of seven foot high. Fortunately, I was athletic. At weekends we rolled out the spare mattresses and often guests would end up snoring away in the library downstairs. We thinned out more after the courtyard wing was converted, but such 'close fellowship' encouraged a great sense of brotherhood.

There were frictions, of course. One brother wanted to be reconciled to a fiery Scotsman, so he took a bowl of water to wash his feet. The argument broke out again so he tipped it over his head and ran!

John Thom was keen to start up a common bank account.

Noel counselled caution at first, but most of us at the Hall were young and zealous and convinced that the common purse was an example of Jesus we needed to follow.

By the spring of 1975 we were pooling our income (before that we had paid rent). A common purse deacon collected the money every week and put it into a household account. When Mike Farrant moved in from Oxford with a flair for administration and a degree in philosophy, politics and economics, the large tea pot in which we'd collected the money was replaced by a wall safe and an accounts book. We went to Mike for what we needed and, apart from a little pocket money, were expected to produce receipts for all we spent.

We were keen to nurture an atmosphere of the Holy Spirit and encouraged one another along the way of discipleship. I suggested to Pete that perhaps we shouldn't stop off at the

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pub on the way to Oxford. As for money-bags Mike, I thought he needed to be more heavenly-minded and got him to rise up early to pray, and to meditate daily on the Song of Solomon!

In many ways sisters surpassed brothers in their enthusiasm and devotion to God. They were prolific in songs, poems, embroideries, tapestries, paintings — and cakes! Single sisters lived mainly at Verna's and Kelly's cottages at Great Lane, at the Harlestone Road house in Northampton, or in various extended families, mainly on the Bugbrooke housing estate.

Up on the estate, the villagers were getting worried at the prospect of a Jesus People takeover! Among others, Lionel and Marion moved there and shared a common purse with Val next door who was now married. Victor, Sheila and their kids also moved in from Northampton and extended their house to take in brothers.

Most of the single brothers were thrown together at Argyle

Street or the Hall where they had their rough edges knocked off. The cross often came in little things — like living with someone who reads late into the night while you're trying desperately to get some sleep. Or it might be the irritating brother who's always quoting Scripture at you, or the boisterous teenager who gets your neck in an arm lock and says, 'Are you all right, bro?' when you're pondering on some deep things of the Lord!

For others, the cross might walk in as the dear sister who has as much concept of the 'meek and quiet spirit' as Queen

Boadicea! Or the brother who comes to 'tell you your fault' with the sympathetic understanding of a bulldozer!

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Community living took 'The Spirit of the Cross' out of the pages of a book and made it a necessity for survival. If we had any illusions about community being a quiet haven away from the storms of life, we soon lost them. We discovered it was in these 'courts of the Lord', not in the world, that the old nature faced up to its crucifixion!

In fact, some left us and the original families at the Hall eventually moved out. But most of us wouldn't have missed that era for anything. It was immensely fruitful and strong characters were chiselled out of community life.

By 1975 three things in particular occupied the attention of charismatic Christians around the world — shepherding, community and the kingdom of God. Shepherding had hit a crisis in the States and there was controversy over 'heavy shepherding'. Christians began to view the concept of authority and submission in the church with distrust.

As for community living, the idea was popular but most churches regarded it as a risky business and few committed themselves wholly to it. But at Bugbrooke, we resolved to keep our hands on the plough and move steadily forward.

Vision was strong amongst us and God was sending us people fast. We pressed on along the 'narrow road' of discipleship, aiming to follow Jesus and 'seek first his kingdom' (Matt

6:33).

Many other churches, too, were gaining a deeper understanding of the kingdom of God. The prophets of Israel had foretold that the coming of Messiah, Christ, would establish the rule of God. But when? Christ had come, but what of his kingdom?

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By the time we arrived at Ashburnham in 1975, we, like many Restoration churches, were looking for a kingdom not only in the future, but now — and on earth!

10 Zion, City of God

There is a holy hill of God, a spiritual Zion, a mountain whereupon His house is built, which the wing of the Almighty overshadows; and His sheep feed there.

Isaac Penington (a Quaker) 1676

The evening sun streamed through the windows of the meeting room at Ashburnham as the harmony of guitar and mandolin held us in the presence of the Spirit. John Cornish and Pete sat on the floor amidst 200 worshippers and led us in a holy jamming session. We lifted our hearts in the spiritual song and the praise took us higher. New tongues harmonised like threads in a tapestry. The instruments joined in and a group of sisters danced before the Lord. The gathered church did feel like a holy place. The 'wing of the Almighty' was overshadowing us and the atmosphere was rich with God's presence.

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Young Darren weaved through the assembly and plonked himself on my lap. I looked over at Kelly. His twelve-string guitar hung across his chest as he pursed his lips and looked contemplatively at the ceiling. What a sight! Kelly was a guy you learned from. No frills — just spiritual reality. 'Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God' (1 Pet

2:10). That was his favourite scripture.

It had been a fascinating year at the Hall. New friendships were a tremendous inspiration and my path to spirituality was no longer a lonely road. Most of all we were a people. As the worship faded into silence I looked around the room. Victor was still lost in worship. He loved the silent times. A great contentment came over me. I'd come home to 'Zion'.

From the corner of the room a squeaky voice began to sing: 'Out of Zion, our God shines forth.' It was far too high and the assembly dissolved into laughter. Verna came to the rescue on the keyboard and the tambourines started up.

'We are his Zion, perfection of his beauty, radiance of his glory, bearers of his name.' The song came to an end after the fifteenth time and we erupted into loud cries of Jesus!

Bless God! and Hallelujah!

Some of the Ashburnham staff crept in and lined up along the wall. They exchanged glances and smiled. Noel stood up and swept his greying hair off his forehead.

'Ashburnham '75,' he began quietly, 'is radically different from '74, because then God established a structure and now he is building on it with his goodness, his sweetness and his life. Before us lies the task of perfecting the beauty of Zion.

We sing from Psalm 50: "Out of Zion... God shines forth."

Now some are using the word "Zion" a great deal nowadays

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to describe the church. Zion was one of the hills of Jerusalem. We read in 2 Samuel 5:7 of how David captured the fortress of Zion. Zion was associated with all the glory of David's rule, when God was with his people and Israel was a light to the nations. But for Israel there was eventually a judgement.

Zion's temple was destroyed and they were scattered.

'Beloved, is this true of the church today? Are the "precious sons of Zion" scattered and in exile? Or is the church a nation set apart? If not, then may God call her back to her identity, and cause her to be a city on a hill.

'Brethren, it's time for Zion to arise and conquer! She must stand up and express what God so burningly longs for, and what our hearts so desperately need.'

Noel paused to look around. Most of us were gripped, but his eagle eye spotted some nodding heads.

'Wake up, beloved! Wake up!' he shouted. 'Let's not be duped any more. The world may hate us, as we emerge from its stranglehold. But may it never say with scorn, "Is this the city that was called the perfection of beauty?" (Lam 2:15).

There are songs going around — "When the Lord restored the fortunes of Zion", and so forth. There's a movement abroad in which God is restoring glory to his church. The call is to be his Zion. We have heard that call and it has taken us into community.

'Now the Jews lost Zion, but their prophets spoke of a King who would restore her and establish the kingdom on earth.

This anointed one, this Messiah, was the hope of Israel. But when he came he was crucified and rejected.

'Beloved!' said Noel, 'Jesus told his disciples that some of them would not taste death before they saw the kingdom of

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