A TALE OF TWO CITIES

by Richard Kemp

I lay on my bunk, sweating in the steamy darkness as the train rattled its way through the French Mediterranean night. It was now well past midnight on the 14th of July, Bastille day, the anniversary of the revolution that was supposed to change the world and usher in a new age of reason and social harmony. It was far too hot for sleep, and my mind ran back over the events of the previous evening.

The streets of Avignon had been crowded as my wife drove me to the station. Myriads of Europeans flock to the city each summer, lost souls searching for satisfaction among the colourful and riotous street entertainment for which the festival is famous. The Pope's palace stands guard over pantiles and cobbled streets which fill every night with visitors eager to soak up the warm air, the music and the sideshows.

The MEPA team had taken its place alongside the other acts, and hundreds of people had heard the gospel every night. Some were deeply touched by the message. Many, however, responded "C'est bien, chacun a sa religion" (fair enough, everyone has his own religion).

While the rest of the MEPA team would be at work again that evening, I was on the night train to Nancy. France Mission had organised a two week mission involving some eighty team members, mainly French, with the aim of reaching everyone in the suburbs where their three churches are based. The programme included concerts, drama, children's clubs, barbecues, door knocking, leaflet distribution and open-air preaching. It would be my job to train a team of open-air preachers.

The following morning, the train stopped briefly in Nancy before completing its journey over the nearby German border to Cologne. Nancy is the capital of Lorraine, a region to the East of Paris which did not become a part of France until 1766. The protestantism of its neighbour Alsace has not softened the catholicism of this area, which once belonged to the Holy Roman Empire.

We were often accused of being Jehovah's Witnesses or members of some other sect. This accusation is less frequently made in southern France where a long history of protestantism, church planting and much patient work by evangelicals has led to a vague acceptance of our faith as 'Christian'. However, much of the North remains a spiritual desert.

Peter Kent from OAC GB joined our small but dedicated team of open-air preachers. Hundreds of shoppers streamed past us in the modern shopping mall - a stark contrast to the mediaeval splendour of Avignon. We were encouraged; good-sized crowds stopped to hear our message. We spoke to a cross-section of French society: young and old, rich and homeless, third-generation French, Arabs, Gypsies and even East Europeans. Almost none of them had ever heard the gospel before.

Time and time again I am struck by the fact that most of those we preach to are hearing the gospel for the first time. What is more, they are often eager to find out more about this 'new' faith afterwards.

Often it is hard to get beyond this initial contact. In this 'new age' of harmony, truth is relative, all religions lead to God, and nice people have nothing to worry about. In reality, most Europeans are in chains, but the Truth can set them free!

Since the mission, we have heard that three people have given their lives to Christ, with many more to follow up. We need to work and pray hard to break down the lies which have enslaved Europe for centuries.