by Rev. Gerald Ambulance
The Lord has led me to share with you twisted and miserable heathens the testimony of how I came from being like you into this wonderful new life of grace and humble spiritual megastardom. Ideally you will be converted by this.
I was born into a life of godless depravity. Of course my parents went to chapel the usual three times on the sabbath, and to five or so midweek meetings, but there was no real commitment there. My father was so blinded by unbelief he thought that the third goat in the book of Daniel represented Belgium (or was it that it didn't represent Belgium? - anyway, whichever interpretation is completely alien to the plain truth of the gospel). And I once caught my mother reading obviously unspiritual material on the Sabbath Day, on the back of a cornflake packet.
Lo, things went from bad to worse, and soon I found myself eating black pudding, grasshoppers, and liquorice - all clearly forbidden in the book of Leviticus (if you read between the lines). I began to doubt the infallibility of ancient Hebrew cosmology. I read the rude bits of the Bible in my quiet time. I watched television programmes, even some containing language and relations.
I could feel myself on the giddy path to the place of eternal fire and worms, where the fire burns forever, but never burns up the worms, just kind of makes them hot, but without really punishing them, because they are the punishment, though to be honest it was the fire I was more worried about really, than the worms. I never saw the point in the worms.
Then one day as I was walking down Lewisham High Street, absent-mindedly eating a sherbet fountain as I made rather optimistic plans for fornication, I heard a voice. And behold, there was a remarkably small one-eyed man standing on the school railings, yelling, "REPENT! REPENT! The end of the world is so nigh, you wouldn't believe it. REPENT! Or its the worms for you."
His words of comfort truly ministered to my soul. Moments later this holy saint was killed in a tragic impaling accident, but knowing that the Lord had spared him long enough to bring truth into my darkness, I threw away my liquorice stick and stopping only to perform a minor feeding miracle I walked on into everlasting blessing.
Life since then has not been a bed of roses, because when you think about it a rose bed is a stupidly uncomfortable place. It's been more like an office chair that's padded, but got no arms.
But let not the glory go unto me, who am but a whale to vomit forth the Jonah of God's blessing.
If you have been converted by this:
Please come and visit our happy fellowship in Lewisham. We meet to bear witness in word and worship in premises that the Lord has graciously provided at the bottom of the disused bottle factory carpark. You can't miss it - it's got one of those massive yellow radioactive signs on the front of the bunker. (If you know anyone on the council, don't tell them where we meet. They are confirmed enemies of the way, every one.) You will receive a warm welcome, a free glass of water (after the service, of course!), and a small three volume book on the kind of conduct, clothing, hairstyle, language, church attendance, sacrificial giving, obedience to your spiritual leaders, reading matter, friends, eating habits etc. that the Lord now expects of you, entitled The Meaning of Free Grace.
If you have not:
don't.
Many thanks to the Reverend Gerald. Read more of his wisdom in his new book, published by SPCK and available in Good and other Christian bookshops or from SPCK Online.
Gerald's Guide to Street Preaching and one of his Evangelistic poems are also available to read here on the Wibsite.