In the late Eighties, when my rugby-playing days came to an end, I began playing more and more squash. Steve, a frequent opponent, belonged to Bethesda Baptist Church, Stowmarket.
One day after a game we began discussing evolution. I had been taught evolution at school and believed it to be the truth – the only explanation of how we all came to exist. I was somewhat surprised to hear that there is an alternative to evolution, namely, creation.
During our discussion Steve referred to the book of Genesis in the Bible. I considered this to be nothing more than a fairy story and quite simply laughed. But I had always considered myself to have an open mind, so I was happy to read a book that Steve lent me on Christianity and science.
The forward was written by Dean H. Kenyon, a professor of biology at San Francisco State University. He said: ‘If after reading this book carefully and reflecting on its arguments one still prefers the evolutionary view, or still contends that the creationist view is religion and the evolutionary view is pure science, he should ask himself whether something other than the facts of nature is influencing his thinking about origins’.
Stunned by the truth
I read the book with interest and was amazed to find that my sincerely held evolutionary beliefs rested on nothing more than a theory – one that even leading evolutionists do not agree about.
The more I thought about this the more I realised that evolutionism is really a ‘religion’ made by man for man. Strangely enough, I did not realise at first the consequences of not believing in evolution.
A few days later the truth finally sank in. Evolution implies that we are here by chance and that there is no design and no God. There can only be two sides to this argument, evolution or creation – chance or design. (There really is no third option; believe me, I have looked.)
The truth stunned me, I needed to know more of my Creator. So, having no religious background, I began to read a Bible that Steve kindly gave me.
Though my understanding was limited, two things become clear. I was made in the image of my Creator and I had rebelled against him. What must I do to be right with my Maker?
The Bible was clear – Jesus Christ ‘and him crucified’ was the only way. I prayed for Jesus to come into my life. There was no ‘Damascus road’ experience. In fact, I thought in my ignorance that my prayer had not been heard.
But my wife Liz noticed gradual changes. Even friends at work saw something different about me. My life, which had been ‘eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we die’, now took on a purpose.
My wife could not comprehend what on earth was going on. I had started to become the sort of husband she wanted, but she couldn’t understand why. Liz told me she was afraid of the changes – scared of what was happening and worried she might lose me to some cult.
We talked at length about Jesus Christ, about his love for sinners like ourselves. After much soul searching, and by the grace of God, Liz also asked Jesus Christ into her life. We were both baptised on 8 August 1993 at Stowmarket Bethesda Baptist Church.
I have since passed through the Suffolk preachers’ seminar and to my utter astonishment find myself in various East Anglian pulpits – privileged to proclaim to a dying world the good news of the only Saviour for mankind, Jesus Christ.