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An Easter Letter from Derick Bingham

Dear everyone,

Warm Greetings,

Spring sunshine, Margaret's incredibly, unbelievably delicious cooking, a walk by Hillsborough lake, the smell of spring flowers, the sight of my grandchildren playing Lego around my feet, time to sit and talk at ease with my incredibly loving and supportive family; I feel like following Kenneth Graham's 'Moley' who headed out of Mole End one fine Spring day where 'it all seemed too good to be true. Hither and thither through the meadows he rambled busily, along the hedgerows, across the copses, finding everywhere birds building, flowers budding, leaves thrusting - everything happy, progressive and occupied.'

I cannot really describe how wonderful it is to be home for an extended period free from chemo, catheters, blood transfusions, platelet transfusions, morphine etc (all so skilfully given) and long, long seemingly interminable nights. I almost feel like saying to my grandchildren with the children's writer Helen Oxenbury 'we are going on a bear hunt; we are going to catch a big one; it's a beautiful day!' Whatever the future holds for me, it truly is blissful to be home and I am releasing every moment of it.

I am now waiting for a call to go back into hospital for my next chemo course, probably beginning next week but in the meantime I am euphoric at being home. My friend Canon David Jardine who has ministered to my spiritual needs across many days calls it 'a miracle'. The medical team caring for me call it 'remission' but I humbly call it 'permission' and may I glorify the Lord every way I can in whatever days he has spared me to live.

The winds were contrary to me but they were not contrary to the Lord as he walked into another storm and pulled another child of his out of the water as he desperately sought to meet him in the darkness. Not forgetting of course that Peter, when it happened to him, had more storms to face. But, my, how he had the victory in them because of that experience in the Galilee storm.

Just recently I received a card from my godly and much loved colleague Dr Hadden Wilson gently hoping I would share what God is teaching me (changing the metaphor) 'in the furnace' of my present experience. Well, one thing is for sure, like Daniel's three friends I have experienced in this furnace the presence of another 'like unto the Son of God'. I have no idea where this experience of acute myeloid leukaemia is heading but I do know that my awesome Lord and Saviour is coming with me.

I have been musing on the moving story of those bewildered, disillusioned, sad, lonely disciples heading home to their village home in Emmaus after the momentous events surrounding Christ's death at Jerusalem. Perhaps the best word to describe their condition was that they were confused about their circumstances - where was this one they had implicitly trusted? Where were his promises, mind-boggling in their implications for the future of mankind, the earth and the universe? Then the resurrected maker of galaxies and little children, the one who protects precious seed covered in the snows of winter and resurrects it in the exploding, indescribable cascading beauty of Spring, joined those two dear men on that road with all of their questions. Here was no bombastic, self-seeking earthly celebrity; famous for simply being famous - here was a light from behind the sun, resurrected from the dead. As has been said, the stone was not rolled away from the tomb of the Lord Jesus to let him out, it was rolled away to let his followers in!

How like him, though, not to throw his awesome power around in some earth shattering action but to gently come alongside his confused disciples to get rid of their fear and doubts in such a human way. He asked them what they had been discussing together as they had been walking along. I have been thinking on how we are told that the two men stood still, their faces downcast. 'Are you only a visitor to Jerusalem and do not know the things that have happened there in these days?' they said. 'What things?' asked the one at whose word the Universe was created; he who spoke to nothing and it became something so complex and incredible in the face of which even the greatest of human minds can only stagger. As the men stood still (not knowing who stood beside them) they began to pour out all their hearts and honest disillusionment. Perhaps they thought it the worst day of their lives but one thing was certain it was actually their best, though they knew it not.

Then came the 'visitor's' unequivocal, reprimand, speaking right to heart of their faltering faith: 'How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken! Did not Christ have to suffer these things and then enter his glory? And beginning at Moses and all the prophets, he explained to them what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself.'

(Could I digress for a wee minute? The other day I listened to Kirsty Young interview Sebastin Faulk, the great novelist (Birdsong etc) on Radio 4's Desert Island Discs. He spoke of his life as a writer, of whiskey and jazz and family and his love of history and the things that really mattered to him. He then spoke of the death of his father whom he greatly respected and of a Requiem that had had been sung at his father's funeral. He chose the Requiem for one of his Desert Island discs (Requiem, Op 48 iii Sanctus sung by the choir of St John's College, Cambridge) and then made the amazing and moving statement that there were those who had faith to believe that everything would turn out well in a redemptive end. He said he did not have such a faith but envied those who did. The atheist writer Thomas Hardy said exactly the same thing in his haunting poem The Funeral of God. Oh Sebastian, Britain, and particularly Western Europe 'How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken' of Christ, his redemptive sacrifice and freely offered forgiveness and salvation to all who repent toward god and have faith in him. It could be yours, millions of you! Just look at China with its 30 million plus believers and the vast swathes of Africa where millions have turned to Christ for the good. If you doubt me just go read Mathew Parris's article 'As an atheist I truly believe Africa needs God' (The Times online, published 27th December 2008).

To return to our story, we are told that as the end of the day came after their seven-mile walk the disciples invited the Lord Jesus into their home in Emmaus to stay with them. It turned out to be one of the most poignant moments in history, when, as the Saviour of the world thanked God for the bread on the supper table, the disciple's eyes were opened and they recognised him. He disappeared but now the two men spoke of how their hearts had burned within them while the Lord opened the Scriptures to them as they had talked on the road. They headed back up to Jerusalem that very evening filled with joy along the very same road but very different men to the ones who had come down it.

As I have lain on my back for about 36 days in hospital I have of course been reviewing my life, my sad failures and faults and sins and of course the wonderful forgiveness and victories I have had in Christ. As I have lain there I have been thinking of the places I have been undeservedly privileged to teach God's Word across the world for three decades and more and of the great things the Lord has done. From Ballywillwill to Bucharest, from Oxford to Osaka, from Lerwick to Keswick, from Rosemary Lane to Ronnie Heron's barn, from Cuthbert, Georgia to the Crescent Church through hundreds of Tuesday nights, from Bible classes in Newtownards, Glasgow and Edinburgh and many, many weekends in Ayr, in homes, in children's missions, in universities, in schools, in the open air, in the Royal Albert Hall and the Christian Worker's Union Hall, from the last ten years with ChristChurch, Belfast to nine weeks in Korea with Margaret as I sought to reach out with the Word of God to many Korean people radio and in a public arena in the heart of Seoul; in all kinds of diverse corners of the world and situations as varied as the people in them I have found something in common with them all. As I have taught God's innerant word a moment always comes of silent awesome recognition (even with children) that when the Bible speaks God is speaking. Recognition comes that it no longer just the preacher's voice they are listening to but God's voice. In fact Billy Graham says you are not preaching until they hear another voice.

It is for many the very same thing as those two men experienced on the Emmaus road when they heard Christ explain what was said in all the Scriptures concerning himself - their hearts burned. As John Wesley most famously put it when he listened to Romans being expounded on the night of his conversion. He said his heart was strangely warmed. Ah! When self is forgotten and the Spirit of God fills the Bible communicator by coffee table or public pulpit, wherever, there is nothing on earth more effective to the transformation of lives and the glorification of Christ and his kingdom. I know that preaching and teaching and communicating God's Word is, at this time in the western word, at a low ebb... but may it return soon in power. As CH Spurgeon said 'you don't need to defend a lion -just let him loose!!'

I was once kindly loaned a model of the Tabernacle by my friend Professor David Gooding and I spent many hours teaching across those forty chapters given to the Tabernacle in the Old Testament at my Bible classes at the Crescent Church and in 'Greek Thompson's' famous church building on St Vincent Street Glasgow. Professor Gooding quietly said to me one day 'When you teach this you will find Heaven will descend.' He never spoke more truthful words. If you doubt me in this year of anniversary of the great 1859 Revival in Ireland just ask the present Minster of Connor Presbyterian Church in Kells, Co. Antrim, built to accommodate the converts at that time and he will tell you of that unforgettable night when far from God he came to hear teaching the Crescent on the Tabernacle and was incredibly converted on the very first night he came (bless him and his ministry!)

How, of course, could I ever have been able to see all this without my wife Margaret? The years she has given of holding down our home so incredibly smoothly through unending pressure only the Lord truly knows about - her dedication was and is absolute and she has been a luxury to love. My longsuffering and loving children deserve a reward greater than I could ever give them - but the Lord will give it to them.
So, then, rising generation of Christians, back to the Word - trust it, believe it, live it, preach it, teach and communicate it and Europe can once more know days of huge revival in the church and spiritual awakening in the nations. Not forgetting, of course, that the Word leads to the living Word our Lord Jesus himself.

As for me, I am heading down my Emmaus road not knowing if my Lord will now lead me to glory or back to more service for him in preaching and teaching his Word.I simply do not know what is going to happen but I do know one thing, put perfectly by the Rev. Murray McCheyne - we are immortal until our work is done. As the American writer Billie Cash wrote in a beautiful prayer for me on this blog the other day. His journey with you reflects the empty tomb! Spot on, Billie.

A joyful Easter to you all,

In the fellowship of the easy yoke,

Derick Bingham