My Story Talk 21 The Rocky Road to Mattersey (1972-78)
Welcome to Talk 21 in our series where I’m reflecting on God’s goodness to me throughout my life. Last time I finished my series of talks on the years we spent I Basingstoke by telling you how in January 1972 God clearly told me that we were going to live at the Bible College. This didn’t happen until 1978 when I was appointed principal of the College which by then had moved from Kenley to Mattersey. Today’s talk will cover some of difficulties we faced on the way and how the Lord eventually brought us through.
In December 1972, after he had served only two years as the Principal at Kenley, George Jeffreys Williamson suffered a heart attack, probably as a result of over-work combined with an accusation that was made against him by one of the students, and shortly after this the Board of Governors reluctantly accepted his resignation. Meanwhile, as there was no resident tutor at the time due to the departure of John Phillips, the Board asked some of the visiting lecturers, including me, to spend a few days at the college encouraging and taking care of the students.
While I was there, Eric Dando, a member of the AoG Executive Council, asked me confidentially if I had ever thought of becoming the principal. This was not a complete surprise to me because of what the Lord had shown me earlier that year about living at the College, but at that stage I had not thought that I might be the principal. And I had never told anyone except Eileen about it.
So I asked Eric why he was asking that question. He told me that it looked likely that Williamson would sadly be resigning and he felt that I might be a suitable person to take over. Although I felt that at the age of 33 I was possibly too young to be appointed to such a responsible position, I shared with him how the Lord had spoken to me back in January.
The months that followed were something of a rollercoaster as Eileen and I lived with the tension that we all experience in times of uncertainty. We knew that the Lord had called us to the college, but was it his plan that I should be the principal? And was it to happen yet? All we could do was hang on to what God had shown us and rest in the certainty that whatever happens God is always in control.
As it turned out, because a new principal could not be appointed until the General Conference the following May, the Board of Governors asked David Powell, the pastor of the Rotherham Assembly, to take care of the College until then. Meanwhile I was waiting to see if I would be nominated. Apart from Eric Dando, Arnold Shaw from Bracknell and Pastor Appleby from Reading had also expressed their confidence in me, but although individuals could make suggestions, nominations would only be accepted which had the support of at least one official council. And when Pastor Appleby suggested my name in a District Council meeting, the chairman, Billy Richards, said,
In a few years, perhaps,
which was to prove to be prophetic. I was encouraged by this, as Richards was, like Dando, a member of the Executive Council and a man I highly respected, and it was evident that he did see the potential in me but felt that now was not the right time, which confirmed what I had already suspected. It was clear that I would not yet be leaving Basingstoke, but that the Lord would fulfil his purpose for me at the proper time, and I had peace about that.
That is until the unprecedented events that took place in May at the General Conference! Immediately before the vote was to take place to determine which of the men who had been nominated would be the next principal, there was a prophetic word saying that the man God had chosen knew who he was and that he should come forward and declare it! This threw the conference into confusion as it was completely contrary to the normal democratic process practised at conference.
The Chairman had to make a decision. The prophecy had to be judged. He conferred with the Executive Council. The matter was put to the conference, and it was agreed to proceed in line with the prophecy. The man whom God had chosen knew who he was, and he should come forward and declare it. Was I the man? The problem was, I knew I was called to the college, but the Lord had never told me that I would ever be the principal.
But while I was still churning these things over in my mind, David Powell, one of those who had been nominated, walked forward and told conference why he felt he was the man. I need to say, in passing, how unfair this procedure was to the two other nominees, one of whom, Clifford Rees, was not present because he was speaking at a meeting in another part of the conference. He told me afterwards that he would not have accepted nomination if he had not felt that he was the man.
After Powell had made his statement the chairman gave opportunity for people to make comments or to ask questions, and one of those who came forward was my old pastor, Alfred Webb. His way back to his seat went right by me and I decided to ask his advice. A few months previously I had confidentially shared with him how I felt God had called me to the college, and so I quietly asked him if he felt I should share it with the conference. His reply was,
Yes, it could be a B that leads to an A.
So that is how I came to tell the entire conference, explaining that I had not come forward before as I could not claim that God had called me to be the principal, but that I did know that God had told me I would live at the college, and that if Brother Powell were elected, and felt it were appropriate, I would be willing to serve under him.
That day Powell was appointed having received the required two-thirds majority vote of the conference, and a day or so later, when I had heard nothing from him, I approached him and said that I hoped he did not mind what I had said, to which he replied,
My heart is with you I this matter, brother. Wait and see what happens.
So I waited, and soon I discovered that he had appointed someone else to work with him. It was weeks later, however, before I received a letter from him saying that he would be happy for me to continue as a visiting lecturer teaching the same subjects as before. In fact, I was the only member of the old faculty who was invited to do so. I decided to accept even though my visits were to be monthly rather than fortnightly due to the fact that the college had now moved to Mattersey, some 200 miles north of Basingstoke, much further from home than Kenley had been.
During the four years that David Powell was the principal, the college was facing considerable difficulties due to the fact that only part of the property at Kenley had been sold and there were insufficient funds to refurbish and develop the property at Mattersey. This was very evident each time I visited the college as a lecturer and, from 1976 onwards, as a member of the Board of Governors. And although these problems were not of Powell’s making, it was also very clear to me that there were administrative issues that could easily be rectified without incurring any additional expenditure.
As a result my desire to be more fully involved in the work of the college was increasing steadily, but at the time there seemed little likelihood of this happening soon. But then, quite unexpectedly, in January 1977 Powell informed the Board of Governors that he had decided not to stand for re-election at General Conference. (At that time all heads of department were subject to re-election every two years). So the other members of the Board agreed unanimously to nominate me.
But when the news was out that Powell was not standing for re-election I was not surprised to discover that two others had accepted nomination from different councils. There was of course no guarantee that I would be elected especially bearing in mind the confusion that had arisen at the time of Powell’s appointment, but I was nevertheless quietly optimistic that this might be the year when the Lord’s word to me would be fulfilled.
However, shortly before the conference we received the staggering news that Powell had changed his mind! He was going to stand for re-election after all. This was, to say the least, administratively inconvenient, and was not a little nerve-racking for me, but I was reassured by the Board of Governors that they would in no way withdraw their support for my nomination.
But that was by no means the end to Powell’s vacillating behaviour. On the first day of conference, he announced that he was withdrawing his name from the list of nominees. Once again the entire conference was thrown into confusion. As a result, when the vote was taken, none of the candidates received the required two-thirds majority and the appointment of the principal was placed in the hands of the Board of Governors and the Executive Council.
A few weeks later, at a meeting where I was of course present as a member of the Board, various names, including mine were suggested and voted on by secret ballot, but none of us received the necessary two-thirds majority. So what next?
It was finally decided to defer the appointment until the 1978 conference and meanwhile to appoint for the next year a team of three principals each of whom would serve for a term at the college but who would throughout the year be jointly responsible for the college.
This was sometimes referred to later as the year of the three principals and, crazy as it may sound, turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I was appointed to serve for that year along with Alfred Missen and Keith Munday and benefitted greatly from their wisdom and greater experience in ministry as we made decisions together about the curriculum, the members of faculty, the timetable for the year, rules for students, and so on.
I agreed to take the first term and, with the exception of the two weeks I was at camp in the New Forest, was resident in Mattersey from the end of July until Christmas, going home only for occasional weekends to see the family. The other weekends I was away on ministry, often with some of the students promoting the college. It was on one of these occasions that I went with about 50 of our students to Newport in South Wales. There was a big inter-church meeting on the Saturday night and on the Sunday the students went to different churches to sing, testify, and preach. I stayed in Newport to preach in the church there.
After Sunday lunch the pastor, Eric Dando, asked me if I would like to phone Eileen, which of course I was grateful to do. After telling her that the weekend was going well, I asked her how she was and was shocked to hear her reply.
I’m O.K., but I very nearly wasn’t!
Oh! What’s happened? I replied.
She told me that there had been a women’s missionary meeting in London and that she and several of the ladies from the church in Basingstoke had gone to it. They had travelled in two cars and on the way home, on the road between Reading and Basingstoke, several horses ran into the road in front of the cars. It seems that they had escaped from a nearby field.
One of the horses collided with the car in which Eileen was travelling in the front passenger seat. The impact was so great that the front of the car roof caved in, to within an inch of Eileen’s head. The car was a complete write-off and, as the people from the car in front walked back to see exactly what had happened, they feared the worst.
At this point it is important to explain that at that time the wearing of seat-belts was not compulsory in the U.K. and the car in which Eileen was travelling didn’t have any. Bearing in mind the speed at which the car had been travelling when it collided with the horse, both Eileen and the driver should have been thrown forward through the windscreen. Indeed, the woman seated behind Eileen was thrown forward so violently into the back of Eileen’s seat that it was twisted out of position.
Yet Eileen was not thrown forward, and none of those travelling in that car was seriously injured. They all walked away relatively unharmed. Eileen told me that throughout the whole incident she was strangely conscious of something – or someone? – holding her to the back of her seat, preventing her from being thrown forward.
Was it a coincidence that on that very evening I had been preaching in Newport on a subject I have rarely preached on before or since? My subject was ANGELS.
On another such occasion we took a bus-load of about 45 students to Bethshan Tabernacle in Manchester. There were several hundred people in the meeting during which the students sang and testified and I preached. As soon as I had finished preaching , an Irish woman near to the back of the meeting began to speak in tongues.
As I was still at the microphone, it seemed right for me to interpret so that everyone present would hear and understand what had been said. So I spoke out in faith trusting that God would give me the right interpretation for what had been said in tongues. When I had finished, we sang a hymn and the pastor closed the meeting in prayer.
As soon as the meeting was over, one of our students, Guetawende Roamba from Burkina Faso, rushed up to me. He was clearly very excited, and when I asked him what was the matter, he told me that the woman who had spoken in tongues had been speaking his native language. Now in Burkina Faso they speak French, and because I speak French, I knew that she had not been speaking French. So I wondered what language it might be.
What language? I asked.
Moré, he replied. It’s our native African language. Only the educated people speak French as well.
Frankly, at that time I had never heard of Moré – and we found out later that the Irish lady who had spoken in tongues had never heard of it either! But I was excited that I had been present when speaking in tongues had been recognised as a real language. At the same time, I was not a little concerned because I was the one who had given the interpretation!
As I mentioned in an earlier talk, I had been interpreting tongues since 1960 when I was a student at Oxford, but it had always been (as it always must be) ‘by faith ’, and I had no certain evidence that the gift was genuine. I had simply trusted the promise of Jesus that God gives good gifts to those who ask him (Matthew 7:11), but it’s easy to imagine how embarrassed I would have been if I had ‘got it wrong’ in the presence of one of my Bible College students! I hardly dared ask the question, but I knew I had to.
And what about the interpretation, Gueta? Was it accurate?
And of course, it was. I wouldn’t be telling this story if the interpretation had been wrong! What an amazing thing! The Holy Spirit inspired an Irish woman to speak an African language which she had never heard, or even heard of, and then gave the interpretation to an English man who had never heard of it either!
So exciting things were happening during the term I spent at Mattersey. The Lord was certainly encouraging us, but in the light of all that had happened at previous conferences I knew there was no guarantee that my position as principal would become permanent. Friends like Paul Newberry and Henry Drabble had told me they thought I would never be appointed as principal. My Oxford MA would count against me! And towards the end of the term there was to be a special conference at Mattersey to debate whether AoG really needed a Bible College!
What’s more, humanly speaking my financial position was far from secure. Keith Davidson, one of the elders at Basingstoke had given up his secular employment to give himself full-time to the work of the church, but had exhausted his savings, so I had told the church to pay him instead of me as I felt that the Lord might soon be moving me on.
These were the kind of things that were occupying my thinking until, during the New Year Convention in Denton at which I was preaching, I finally came to the conclusion that nothing really mattered except for the fact that Jesus died for me. I gave it all to him. And he did meet all our financial needs that year, although I had no guaranteed income, and in the 1978 conference I was finally appointed as Principal of Mattersey Hall Bible College.
