Unlike
many preachers, my father had no formal theological training. As well
as running a successful business in a small Scottish village, and
playing his part in the raising of four children, he also preached
twice a week, every week in the local Gospel Hall from 1948 until
January 1969. Many came to know Christ through my parents’ ministry
and personal witness.
My father’s undoubted
gift and enthusiasm for preaching God’s word was developed in what
he called, ‘the furnace of affliction’: the prisoner of war camp
in Poland where he was incarcerated by the Wehrmacht from 1940 to his
liberation in 1945.
In his book, ‘We’ve
Been a Long Time Coming Boys’, he relates his ‘call’ to
the ministry and his first service in 1941.
“0N APRIL 19TH, 1941, a
prisoner from the main camp joined us at Quadendorf. I doubt very
much if he had any notion as to the influence he would have on our
men in general, or on me in particular. The new arrival was Fred
Goodchild, a middle-aged Englishman, small of build and with a slight
limp. Fred had been hit by flying shrapnel in France and his wound
always caused him pain.
Our new colleague had
scarcely settled in when he asked if we had a Church Service on a
Sunday evening. I did not hear him ask this question but I learned
later on that the answer he got was a firm “no”. However, some
more sympathetic or perhaps sarcastic gent added “We do have a
Bible thumper in our ranks. You'll see him lying somewhere reading
The Book.” Of course, I was the man they referred to and the book
was my father's little Bible. So it was like Stanley meeting
Livingstone in darkest Africa, Fred Goodchild met Charlie Morrison,
better known as Schuster — at Quadendorf. At once, Fred suggested a
camp service the next evening, which was a Sunday, and I was
delighted to agree. But then, the bombshell was dropped. I said, “You
will give the sermon, Fred.” He looked at me in absolute amazement
and said “Me, Mate! I could not preach a sermon. It will have to be
you.”
That was how I was
ordained to the Ministry as they put it in churches nowadays. By the
way, the word “ordained” merely means “put in position” as in
the Psalm — “the moon and the stars which you have ordained”.[1]
With a great deal of hesitation and also trepidation, I agreed to
take on the job just for one Sunday. Little did I dream that the one
Sunday would continue from April 20th, 1941 till the week we were
evacuated from Danzig on February 16th, 1945 — nor could I have
imagined we would not miss one Sunday service in all that time. How I
managed to find a new subject each week with only a Bible and no
fancy reference books, I say in all reverence, only God knows. But
the God who knows also cares and was to provide me with all that I
required in the thoughts He put in my mind through all these long
years.
My immediate problem
however, was to find something to say the next evening, for my
newly-found friend Fred became my P.R. man. He went round everyone
inviting them to hear my very first sermon. What was I to do? The
only thing left to me as so often, was to ask for help, in other
words to pray.
Consequently, about seven
o'clock on April 20th, with the men sitting round the room, I stood
up and read without any singing or prayers. The only two parts of the
Bible I knew anything about were Psalm 23 and The Gospel of John,
Chapter 10. To my mind they seemed to fit together pretty well. I
assumed that most of the lads would have a fair working knowledge of
Psalm 23. It was written by David, the shepherd lad, and begins as we
all know with the well-known words “The Lord is my Shepherd...”
Here was one of the great song-writers and musicians of his day. He
played the harp in those times and not the guitar. He had told of his
faith in God through this particular psalm. I tried to press the
point about David's experiences in life. He had faced and killed both
a lion and a bear. Then he tackled Goliath, the Philistine plus
armour-bearer, and downed the giant pretty smartly with a stone —
in the Name of the Lord.
This he did while his big
brothers and the rest of the Israeli soldiers stood open-mouthed in
terror. Yes, David was no slouch and could say from his own
experience, “Even if I walk through the valley of the shadow of
death, I will fear no evil for you (Lord) are with me”. How vital
to realise, I said, that without Jesus Christ as my Lord, death can
be a very lonely time. No friend can go with me here. But when my
trust is in Christ, I will “never walk alone” as the football
supporters love to sing, not even in the valley of death, for He has
promised “I will be with you”.
But then I had also read
from the Gospel of John, Chapter 10. These words were spoken by a
greater Shepherd than David. They were the words of Jesus himself,
the Son of God. What did He have to say to me? Verse eleven reads, “I
am the good Shepherd. The good shepherd lays down His life for the
sheep”. David risked his life for his sheep because he loved them
and knew them well. Jesus did more than David. Jesus laid down his
life for his sheep — on the Cross. The Bible says while we were
still sinners Christ died for us. The Good Shepherd could say “No-one
takes my life from me. I lay it down of my own accord. I have
authority to lay it down and authority to take it up again”.[2]
Not only did Jesus speak here of his death, but he also promised he
would return from the dead, as He did. Having tried to explain this
to my audience, I then veered on to verses 27 and 28 of John, Chapter
10 and here, I quote these two verses to save time. Jesus said: “My
sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give
them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no-one can snatch
them out of my hand”.
Now my path seemed clear
to press home my whole point. I recited the only verse which I could
recite by heart: “All we like sheep have gone astray”. That was a
good moment, I thought, at which to say that I was as big a sinner as
any of them. “All we like sheep have gone astray, each one of us
has turned to his own way, and God has laid on Jesus the sins of us
all.”[3]
(What a subject it is, but I did not really do it justice at all. I
was too scared.) There's another verse in the Bible which confirms
this truth for, it says, “Christ died not only for our sins, (i.e.
Christians’ sins) but for the sins of the whole world”. From
that, I understood the only sin which would deprive me of eternal
life and debar me from Heaven was the sin of unbelief: of refusing to
receive Christ as my Saviour and Lord.
When I had finished this
miniature sermon, I was absolutely shattered. I slipped off to the
kitchen, most likely to get a drink of water. Immediately, I was
followed and bombarded with questions from all sides. I don't
remember much of what I was asked, but I do know that Joe Wathen was
one of the lads who drew me aside. He told me he had been christened
in Church as a child and confirmed at the age of twelve. He joined
his Church later on, but never grasped the truth before that when
Christ suffered on the Cross, he died for our sins.”
One of my favourite
hymns is ‘Stand Up, Stand Up For Jesus’, written by George
Duffield on the tragic death of the hugely successful evangelist
Dudley Atkins Tyng in 1858. While the military allusions in the hymn
might not be too popular in present day evangelical culture, it is an
encouragement to believers to continue to stand up for Christ by
preaching the Gospel even in the most difficult of circumstances.
I am always reminded of
God’s grace to my father in the circumstances surrounding his first
sermon when I sing these precious words:
Stand up! Stand up
for Jesus!
Stand in his
strength alone;
The arm of flesh
will fail you
Ye dare not trust
your own
Put on the Gospel
armour,
Each piece put on
with prayer;
Where duty calls or
danger
Be never wanting
there!
My late father’s book
can still be obtained via Amazon.
‘We’ve Been A
Long Time Coming Boys’ by Charles Morrison, Published by Albyn
Press ISBN 0284 98840 5
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