The Amsterdam Meeting. . . (4)

WHAT WAS ACCOMPLISHED
W Carl Ketcherside

I have been repeatedly asked, since returning from Amsterdam, what such a meeting could possibly accomplish. I sympathize with those who ask the question. Inevitably it comes from those who were not present. Often it is asked with a partisan axe to grind. I think we must face the fact that, like the generation contemporary with Jesus, many of us are blind and cannot see afar off. Long life and continuous drudgery in one of the more legalistic sects of this day, has blurred our vision and dimmed our sight until “we see men like trees walking.” We need “the second touch.” Surgery for the spiritual cataracts which cause a milky film across our minds would help. Because of my past orientation I also went with no little skepticism. It was all blown away after my arrival.

This was the first meeting of its kind in the history of the Way. Never before has there been a universal call for all evangelists to gather and pool their thinking about means and methods for the good of all. Various sects have had a state-wide and even nation-wide gatherings. But these were limited in scope. They were attended primarily by professionals who make their living by offering their skills to the highest bidder. At Amsterdam, a goodly percentage made their living from a trade, and proclaimed the Good News when and where they could in groves, along the roadsides, or on village streets. Many who attended from Third World countries were invited to visit the Samaritan’s Purse, where they were given an extra pair of trousers and a coat to provide a change from the one they wore to the conference.

The meeting also sustained a priority in that it was the first universal gathering centered solely around the person of Jesus Christ. And it was a mind-blowing experience. I have attended a number of lectureships, and have even participated in a few. But all of them betrayed their bias by the subjects discussed. There were speeches on Baptist, Methodist, Presbyterian and Assembly of God theology. In many cases the talks narrowed down to restoration movement practices, and men held forth valiantly, with sweat streaming down their faces, on instrumental music, societies, Bible classes, or varied versions of the Bible, and what was wrong with all of them. At Amsterdam it was Jesus Christ and Him crucified. Secondary matters were placed on the shelf or left in the closet. The millennium, the rapture, the tribulation, and all the rest of the speculative basket of turkey eggs which television preachers toss back and forth at one another was not mentioned. One or two speakers predicted that the clock was running down and that we were in “the end times” but most everyone present was so interested in how to present the message to this generation, it did not particularly matter to them where we were on God’s time yardstick.

The conference was held in the midst of one of the most immoral and secularistic populations on the face of the earth. It fairly shown by contrast. Churches were engaged in a struggle for survival. Many had long since been sold or torn down. The war has left an aftermath of horrific departure from the power of the gospel. The Nazi occupation with its cruelty and blood thirstiness had done its damage. The baser instincts of many surfaced with all the scum on them. In a metropolis where sex was openly flouted in a hundred evil ways, where it was open and overt young people grew up unable to determine right from wrong. They grew up like fish in a polluted pool gasping for air.

But for ten days, like a refreshing breeze sent from heaven, the representatives at the convention brought a different lifestyle to the city. People saw, touched and heard delegates from 134 countries of the globe, courteous, polite, deferential, and they hardly knew what to make of it. I was walking toward the convention center one evening, just as the sun was setting. Two Arab men saw my identification badge. I greeted them warmly and they were emboldened to ask what the convention was all about. Deciding that it was more valuable to talk with them than to go listen to someone talk to me, I detoured, and sat down beside them. I told them the meetings were not about a what but about a who. It appeared incredible to them that one would come as far as had I on such a mission. I told them that Jesus had come a lot farther to visit and to rescue men, and that he was the only remedy for our ripped-off world.

Waxing bolder, I suggested there would never be permanent peace in the Near East until it realized that “In Christ there is no East or West” and drew near to Him. I learned that both of them were graduates of universities in Europe. When the time came to part we shook hands warmly. An hour had gone by. I have often wondered what became of them. I could easily have passed them by as did hundreds of others. They were like “ships that pass in the night.” It was a real pleasure to realize that we had been dropped like parachutists in the midst of a profligate city. We were to take what prisoners we could. We were there to batter down the strongholds. We were commandos for Christ.

I overheard several people talking about how hard and insensitive the populace was. They were supposed to be skeptical and cold. I must confess that I never encountered one bit of it. I talked to them on the streets, in the trams, in the stores and restaurants. I found nothing but friendliness and a desire to help. When I turned “my half of watermelon” smile on them, inevitably they smiled back, our difference in cultures melted away and we found a common ground on which to stand. This was true of boys and girls of high school age as well as older burghers. It was great to be among them. I loved every minute of it. They were modern pagans but they were friendly pagans.

The history of the Netherlands goes way back when contrasted with our own new world existence. Amsterdam was founded about 1225, and was 550 years old when the American Revolution began. Canals divide it into 100 small islands, interlaced by more than 350 bridges. The age of some of them is staggering as seen from a canal boat while going beneath them. Almost the entire city is built upon a foundation of piles driven fifty feet into a stratum of clay. It is a unique and quaint city. Once it was a tremendous force to be reckoned with in conjunction with the spread of protestantism and the resistance to Roman aggression. The saga of the times of William the Silent is one to be proud of.

The Thirty Years War which was a religious struggle of frightening proportions, settled eventually by the Peace of Westphalia, virtually decimated the land. But it recovered and was the one-time headquarters for the Anabaptist Movement. It seems incredible that the one-time influential area in the realm of moral and spiritual worth could have departed so far from its original purposes. Perhaps the fact that the country played host to so many evangelists from throughout the world will cause it to do a twentieth-century right-about-face and resume a position of leadership in the world of faith.

None of us can doubt that the world of our day is crying out for leadership in the kingdom of heaven. America cannot provide it. Possessed of skills in science and technology she has diverted them to selfish interests. She is a leader in space conquest and in big business. She leads on the ground and in the skies but hardly in the heavenly trek. Those who are foremost in the field of communication have generally sought to advance their own interests and to become wealthy at the expense of others. So-called “television evangelists” often fleece the flock. When one gets to the place he can no longer help he is dropped like a hot potato.

The Spirit can no longer penetrate the veneer which has been applied in the name of worship. In the reformation which stands at the door waiting for someone to let it come in, only those can be leaders who crucify self. It is in taking up the cross that one proves his worthiness. God’s will must be done and that nation which does it will be exalted. May the day hasten and come!