True Life and Death
10 October 1998 07:27
Derek Stone sends his personal testimony:
True Life and Death
We die for one of two reasons. Either because we get in the way of the Lord’s work, or because we have completed our part in it. (A saying once repeated in my hearing by Archimandrite Lazarus Moore, an Englishman who died in Alaska, a well-travelled Orthodox monk.)
In 1960 I started teaching at `Timbertop’, the `bush’ branch of the Geelong Church of England Grammar School in N.E. Victoria to which Prince Charles of England was sent for a year. While at `Timbertop’, I developed a distaste for the hypocrisy of working in `Church’ schools which only pay lip service to ’the faith once delivered’.
I then moved with the four beginnings of our `tribe’, South across Bass Strait, to work at Australia’s first State-run, and hence secular, equivalent of the Junior College, in Hobart, Tasmania—conscious that in a secular school in the world’s most secular nation, I would have to swim against the stream.
At lunchtimes in a tiny staff room, half a dozen of the Christian teachers, each from a different denomination, once a week had a bible study on John’s gospel.
Two of the teachers, both of whom had had a dose of `God is Dead’ theological education at Melbourne University, dropped out of our study.
In 1966 with the encouragement of the College Principal, those two arranged for a radical Christian Mission to be conducted in the school with voluntary attendance.
The guest speaker was Prof. Charles Birch, an eminent Biologist. Amongst other things he explained to the 17-18 year-olds that, at that time, leading Australian clergy, some of whom he named, no longer believed in a literal bodily resurrection for Jesus or for anyone else. He said they were wise enough not to upset the elderly of their congregations by saying this publicly. Charles Birch went on to flatter this audience, “the leaders of tomorrow”. He was sure that they were able to grasp the rational and scientific proof which he would give them that death was final.
He indicated that just as dead vegetation provides compost for new plants, so also the teachings of the good man Jesus had created followers. They, in turn developed myths about the nature of His passing.
By sending a telegram, my local Anglican bishop discovered the falsity of Charles Birch’s allegations about the Primate of his communion who was also President of the Australian Council of Churches.
Members of the Christian Fellowship within the college were forbidden by the Principal, who was fearful of his promotion prospects within a secular school system, to speak on this matter either within the school or to the press. When presented with the telegram-in-reply, he refused to publicly correct the Professor’s allegations, and said that he preferred to believe the Professor.
Two teaching staff and three or four students made little lapel labels which read, “Jesus Christ lives, God is not dead.” We wore them for little more than a day or two, embarrassed and shy.
Newspaper, radio and TV picked it up and bishops and commentators did the rest nationally.
We knew there was a price to pay. And so outside the college, on the critical morning of pinning the card to the lapel, I did a deal with the Lord. (You are not supposed to do deals; but on this occasion he suffered me) I requested that I remain at the college as long as the two renegade Christian staff members remained.
During the following year one of those male staff members absconded interstate in the vacation with a girl student and was consequently transferred elsewhere.
During the next two years, further radical Christian mission weeks, mis-fired. Christians in the school were well prepared for them.
Then the main instigator, was rewarded, as is the way of the world, with a scholarship to study at Harvard Divinity School. He left.
Exactly a week later I found myself arbitrarily transferred to junior classes in a more distant Comprehensive High School.
Then I remembered the forgotten contract with Our Lord.
I found other employment and then resigned.
I marvelled at the precise way in which our Lord keeps covenants. At the time I did not understand fully what was meant by the Anglican evangelist of World War 2, who is today so popular with Catholics, C. S. Lewis.
Concerning Jesus in the Narnia stories, he has one of his characters say, “Aslan, is not a tame lion.”
A year later, when working as a clerk at the Bureau of Statistics, I noticed in the newspaper the photograph of students lining the road of the funeral procession of the second College Principal who had so lamely acceded to my transfer.
In another twelve months there appeared a second death notice, that of the original Principal, C. Dwight-Brown, who had succeeded in his aim of being promoted to Supervisor of all State Colleges. From this position he had arranged my arbitrary transfer.
Jesus lives alright! But I had yet to learn, WHERE He wants to live.
Our Lord’s messages of the 1980s and 90s through Vassula (see www.tlig.org) taught me that it is in my heart that He aims to live and that my true home like the Apostle John, is on His heart.
I used to feel thankful that I was allowed to live while others had paid the price for folly. And I knew that Jesus lived out there. Yet all the time Jesus was patiently waiting to be invited inside. I have subsequently learned, but not yet experienced, that one sign that we, as adopted sons are nearing True Life in God, is a longing for an end to this temporary phase of momentary bliss in order that we can experience being forever married to Him.
The fiery death of Joan of Arc at the hands of a French bishop and English troops, used to horrify me.
I now realize that Stalin’s slaughter of so many Bishops, Priests, Deacons and laity, was for many of them a permanent and glorious entry into the real presence.
Derek Stone, Hobart, Tasmania, Australia
