Fire in our hearts - Jesus Army

FIRE IN OUR HEARTS
COMMUNICATE!
go for a walkabout. It was a chance to see how green the
grass was outside.
Visiting new churches broadened my outlook, but I missed
the ‘gutsy’ types I’d grown to love in the Jesus Army. The
absence of tattoos, weird haircuts, nose-rings, lace-less
squaddy boots and friendship bands made me a little homesick
amongst the well-mannered, the groomed and the beautiful.
There were exceptions, but it struck me how hard the
average Christian finds it to relate to people ‘on the level’.
Hence so few of the liberated, the outrageous and the different.
I missed the raw energy of the sons of thunder.
And where on earth was the church on Monday? Seriously.
I tried the Yellow Pages. The City Christian Fellowship or the
Lord’s Community Church sounded tasty, but all I got was a
recorded invite to the Sunday meeting. I could be dead by
then! In the early days at Bugbrooke we met six nights a week
and God led us into a kingdom culture. I knew that without
such an ever-present alternative many of our guys would never
make it. Nor would I. The church was in my blood. ‘Zion’ was
my life, my dream, the fabric of my soul.
Fortunately, the brethren at home proved more accommodating
than first appeared. After meeting some good people
and tasting a little of the sweetness elsewhere, I found myself
back at Wembley. Back to excitement and colour; to flashing
lights and videos, to fast-moving programmes and to wild
and tattooed youngsters. To loud music and to noise. To noise!
‘Oh God’, I groaned, ‘do we really need all this?’
My mind turned to pleasant house-groups, to quiet early
nights in my own room, to undisturbed morning meditations,
(Ah!) and to the sweet freedom of sunny October days.
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