The Redeemed (7 page)

The body of the church was the size of a small aircraft
hangar and set out like an amphitheatre. Five thousand seats were arranged on a
gently sloping floor facing a raised, semi-circular stage, on which stood a
choir dressed in shiny purple robes alongside a twelve-piece band. Two big
screens suspended on cables from the ceiling announced, 'Bobby DeMont - World
Tour'. Jenny found an end-of-row seat as the man himself jogged out of the
wings, his startling image filling the big screens. In his late forties, slim,
tanned and with thick walnut-coloured hair, Bobby DeMont wore a suit and tie
and silver-tipped cowboy boots which glinted under the lights. The preacher
soaked up the applause like a movie star, bowing to each section of the
auditorium in turn before holding up his outspread hands and closing his eyes.

'Dear Lord, I am truly humbled to be here today.'

'A-men,' the audience thundered in reply.

'Now, as you all know,' Bobby began, strutting to and fro
across the stage, his homely southern accent picked up by an invisible
microphone and relayed with perfect clarity through a network of speakers,
'it's been a little over fifteen years since a young country pastor from the
back hills of West Virginia answered God's call to set up shop in the big city.
Bobby, the Lord said to me that evening in my itty- bitty tin-shack church in
Oakville, much as you love these good people you grew up with, I'm gonna to
take you on a journey. I'm gonna take you on a journey to a city you've never
been to before, the seat of your government no less, to fish for souls.' He
grinned into the cameras. 'So with nothing more than four hundred dollars and a
suitcase full of hick clothes I learned the meaning of what it is to be a fool
for Christ. When I stepped off that bus in Washington

DC I literally did not know which way to turn. Everywhere I looked
there was traffic and hostile faces, and I thought: man, you've lost your mind,
this is crazy; this isn't an act of faith, it's an act of stupidity.' Bobby
stopped abruptly and stared out at the sea of admirers. The air crackled with
expectation. He continued in hushed, dramatic tones: 'And after I'd walked the
streets for an hour or so I wandered into a poor black neighbourhood. There
were kids on the corners dealing drugs, prostitutes giving me the eye, guys in
bandannas who looked as if they'd shoot you down for a nickel. And I'll be
honest, folks, I was afraid - I'd never been to no big city before. I tried to
retrace my steps but I just got more and more lost and desperate. I was
scurrying along a sidewalk that was all covered with trash and broken needles
and I turned a corner and ran slap-bam into a group of bums outside a liquor
store smoking what I took to be marijuana. There was four of them, all gang
tattoos and gold teeth - you know the kind. Well, they took their time looking
me up and down in my western boots and my cowboy hat, and then the biggest of
'em stepped toward me. I was so frightened I couldn't even run; tell the truth,
I could hardly breathe. Then this fella says, "Sir, you look like a man
who's lost his way. May I be of any assistance?" And in this squeaky little
voice I said, "Sure. Can you point me the way to downtown?" And this
fella smiled like I'll never forget: a cross between a great white shark and
Charles Manson. Then guess what, folks?' Bobby smiled. 'He pulled a gun, robbed
my money and took my best hat.'

The crowd roared and, watching Bobby's smiling face on the
big screen, Jenny couldn't help sharing their elation.

'You see the moral of the story is, not even Almighty God can
protect us from our foolishness.'

Amens and more laughter rang around the auditorium till Bobby
raised his hands to call for silence.

'Four years in college and a solid upbringing, I shoulda
known better,' he trumpeted, stamping the heel of his boot on the stage. 'I
shoulda known that God gives us the tools and it's down to us to use 'em the
very best we can. Well, fortunately, he gave me a second chance. When I'd done
calling my mama and getting an ear full of I-told-you-sos, I volunteered myself
at Mount Zion Church. Three weeks later I was promoted to a salaried position
as an outreach worker and street pastor. My job was to pick street drunks and
junkies out of the gutter and feed soup to the homeless. I worked hard and
lived simple, but I'll be honest with you, my friends, it was tough, thankless
toil and my faith was sorely tested. Two unbroken years of service in the Lord
later, I was sent out to take over a run-down old church in a neighbourhood so
wild even the rats were scared to go out at night. How I longed for green
fields the day I set eyes on that place. I swear, if I could've raised the fare
I'd have jumped right on the Greyhound back to Oakville. But I didn't have a
penny. There
was
nowhere to run. Well, that beat-up heap of rubble was so
filthy and depressing I decided the only thing I could do was to name it in
such a way as to give me hope, because to be honest, people, right then I had
none in my heart.' Bobby turned his gaze to the floor and lowered his voice to
a whisper. 'I named it the Mission Church of God.'

A profound silence descended over the congregation, broken
only by a single 'Praise be' from a lone female voice deep in their midst.

'That was exactly twelve years ago next Tuesday. Friends,
I'll make a confession. Even a pastor forgets to read his scripture sometimes.
There I was in a crime-ridden slum pining for the forests and creeks of my
carefree youth when I should've been reading Luke 13:19. The kingdom of God is
like a small—'

'Mustard seed!' the audience chanted in unison.

'That's right. And O hallelujah praise God Almighty how that
mustard seed has grown. That first Sunday I preached to eight people, and three
of them was asleep! Twelve years down the line there's not a stadium been built
could hold all the members of this Mission Church of God. Right now, ladies and
gentleman, kids, this mighty tree that's spreading across the whole wide world
has more than two hundred thousand birds nesting in its branches. If that isn't
proof that God holds good to his promises no matter how incredible they seem,
then you tell me what is.'

The crowd jumped to their feet, hands raised, hallelujahs
ringing out.

'Don't thank me, thank the Lord,' Bobby cried out and turned
to the band, who struck up right on cue. The words to the worship song scrolled
up the big screens:

Shine Jesus
shine,

Fill this land

With the father's
glory,

Blaze spirit
blaze, set our hearts on fire
. . .

The song was hypnotic, rousing, and as it drew to a close
Jenny felt the pent-up energy in the auditorium replaced with a strange and
powerful sense of collective peace, as if five thousand people were united in
love and goodwill.

Suspending judgement, she allowed herself to be carried along
with the tide, laughing and applauding with her neighbours as Bobby stepped up
again to preach on the subject of a Christian's duty to live in the spirit, no
matter where it might lead him. With a string of humorous anecdotes about his
dealings with sceptical and corrupt politicians around the globe, Bobby showed
his audience that speaking the truth, no matter how challenging, was the only
way to walk with God. And the alternative to God, he said, was the devil.

'Any of you going to walk with the devil?' he challenged.

'No!' the audience boomed in reply.

'Well, ain't you lucky people - you've each got four thousand,
nine hundred and ninety brothers and sisters here to hold you to your promise.
Now I want you to turn to your neighbours, shake them by the hand and wish them
strength in Jesus.'

Jenny found herself overwhelmed with outstretched hands,
perfect strangers wishing her strength and offering ardent blessings.

'And now,' Bobby said, 'I'm going to introduce you to two men
who've been towers of strength to me and have helped build this wonderful
church here in Bristol, England - Mike Turnbull and Lennox Strong.'

The two men joined him on stage to a thunder of applause.
Michael Turnbull was a similar age to Bobby, casually dressed and with the same
glowing countenance that radiated wholesomeness and prosperity. Lennox Strong
was an athletic black man in his late twenties. A tight T- shirt hugged his
muscled torso.

Bobby invited each of them to give their testimonies for the
benefit of all those who still doubted the truth of God's presence. Michael
stepped forward first and told his story of being a wealthy, burnt-out
ex-businessman who felt as wretched about his life's work and his contribution
to the explosion in pornography as that great evangelist John Newton had once
done about his role in the slave trade. It was hearing Pastor Bobby DeMont,
over three years ago, that had finally opened the doors of his heart and
changed him for ever. It was Bobby who had led him to realize that, through the
Lord's infinite grace, even the most evil sinner can be made clean. He'd thrown
open the doors and God rushed in as fast as daylight flooding a darkened room.
But he hadn't let him rest easy. No, he had presented him with the biggest
challenge of his life. Not only did he charge him with raising a church in the
parched sands of a spiritual desert, he asked him to make war on pornography.
It was far more than one human being could achieve alone, but God had filled
him with joy and a sense of purpose which carried him from victory to victory.
And now the end was in sight - an earthly law to enact the law of God was only
days away from coming into existence.

A huge cheer went up like the roar of a football crowd.
Michael Turnbull seemed to radiate benevolence as he graciously acknowledged
it and stood aside for Lennox Strong.

The young pastor received a welcome that made even that given
to Bobby DeMont seem modest. The shrill cries of young women sounded out above
the crowd, prompting Bobby DeMont to whisper playfully in his ear. Lennox
Strong showed no hint of embarrassment at the rapturous greeting. He clasped
his hands in front of his chest and waited for quiet.

He spoke with a pronounced Bristol accent, but with the ease
and confidence of a true professional. The son of a single teenage mother, he
was a drug abuser, a car thief and a member of a violent gang all by the time
he was thirteen. At fourteen, he was sentenced to five months in juvenile
detention for robbing a defenceless old woman at knifepoint. Far from
reforming him, his spell inside introduced him to seasoned criminals he tried
hard to impress and emulate. During the next several years he was in and out of
custody as he went on a spree of burglary, car-theft and drug dealing. On his
nineteenth birthday the police caught him carrying a gun.

'And every day I thank God that I was arrested before I fired
that weapon in anger,' Lennox said. 'Another week and I would have to have
proved to my so-called brothers that I wasn't just a boy with a gun, but a man
who'd used one. I'll confess it openly, I had only darkness in my soul.'

The Lord found Lennox four months after his release from
prison. He was just twenty-two, 'an angry ball of testosterone and muscle
spoiling for a fight'. It was late into a wild night when he took some cocaine
on top of alcohol and amphetamines. 'I thought I could take anything, but I
went down like a felled tree.' Lennox was rushed to hospital suffering a
series of cardiac arrests. He was resuscitated five times in the ambulance. He
couldn't recall much of the journey, but he did remember suffering the final
excruciating arrest which was to stop his heart for a full three minutes.

'My friends, I'd never had a spiritual thought in my life. I
believed that when you died the lights went out and that was it. The lights
went out all right, but it wasn't an end. I felt myself leaving my physical
body and going down ... and down, into a blackness I can't even describe. The
further I sank, the hotter and more stifling it became. I could feel my lungs
burning.' He paused to take a breath. 'Was I terrified? . . . There are no
words to express the fear I felt as I realized I was falling into hell. I may
have known nothing about the Bible, but I knew what I was looking at, and it
was more real than you are now. And then this scream came from somewhere within
me, "Jesus, save me!" There was no answer, and this is God's truth,
my friends, I felt my flesh beginning to boil. I cried out again, "Jesus,
please . . . save me!" And suddenly there was a rush of wind, and for a
moment it was as if two strong men were pulling me in opposite directions, then
bam!' He clapped his hands. 'I felt as if I'd split in two, but suddenly I shot
upwards like a cork out of a bottle and I found myself standing at the side of
the bed where the doctors were shocking my heart, and, very calmly, I lay down
. . . The next thing I knew I was waking up in the ward with my mother and little
sister looking down at me. And I'm telling you now, I'd never felt so much love
in my whole life . . .' Lennox's voice clogged with emotion.

Bobby put an avuncular hand on his shoulder. 'Don't stop
short of the punchline, Lennox,' he joked. 'Tell the people what happened
next.'

A ripple of nervous laughter travelled through the crowd.

'I said to my mum, "You aren't going to believe this,
but I think Jesus just saved me." And she said, "Well, you'd better
make sure to pay him back." And as soon as I spoke those words I knew that
my life had changed for ever. She called the hospital chaplain and, for the
first time since I was a tiny child, I prayed. I prayed that I would give my
life to the service of God. And that prayer wasn't answered in months, or weeks
or even days - you know how they say the new wine is the strongest? - that
prayer was answered the very next day when the chaplain told me about a new
church in my neighbourhood that was looking for volunteers.'