A Cambridge God Adventure* 63) A very serious shadow

(*please skip if you have not been following this story).  Even as I was fighting this strange illness another date stands out: September 15 1987.  But this time not for a good reason.  One leader put it: 'Never has a church meeting heard as much grim news.'  The dry rot that had been uncovered a few weeks before turned out to have infected large areas of the church.  Three major areas of disease had spread downwards to affect gallery supports, pillars, and walls.  As one person said to me: 'That's it. I have stayed with the vision as long as I could but this is the last straw. Count me out.'  How understandable that was - many extra thousands of pounds would be needed.

Yet, at the church meeting, someone else said: 'What a blessing that we have found this out now. It might have spread right through the entire church without us realizing!'  The meeting agreed that we would share in a Day of Prayer on Monday Sept. 28th from 8:00am to 8:00 pm concluding with communion.  I challenged people: 'Please do not treat this as a well-meaning symbol, the kind of thing Christians are supposed to do. This day of prayer is for real.'

As the church took on a stage-set appearance with one side shrouded in plastic sheeting and holes appearing in the structure we squeezed into two-thirds of the church.  It was an unreal time with extra irritations like vandalizing of the amplification equipment one weekend. But on the Day of Prayer people came through all day.  Again, I remember comments like the person who said: 'There's a marvellous feeling of tolerance and oneness in the church.' There was.  People were still believing and giving.

However,  my twisting neck seemed to be deteriorating with medicines not only proving ineffective but actually causing worse problems.  One drug took away my ability to write, disconnecting my brain from my hand. Weirdly troubling!  I only emerged now for special occasions as Nigel undertook the lion's share.  Yet, church life through the autumn proved to be as full and joyous as ever.  I thought I should at least make an effort to preach on Christmas Day 1987 but I wish I hadn't. Not only was I in obvious pain, but the congregation witnessed my trouble. In spite of my best efforts I could not stand upright and was clearly struggling.  I knew, and everybody with me, that I couldn't go on.  The illness was no short term thing.