July-September
“Except ye eat the flesh of the Son of man, and drink his blood, ye have no life in you. Whoso eateth my flesh, and drinketh my blood, hath eternal life; and I will raise him up at the last day” (John 6:53, 54).
In these verses we find the real meaning of the Christian’s experience. To some, it may take a long time to understand what this means; yet others comprehend it readily. To me, it took quite a while. I would like to share with you how I came to understand its meaning so that you may also turn your eyes upon Jesus. I would first like to begin this story by telling how my family became Seventh-day Adventists. My father was working as a postal officer, sorting mail on the trains out of Perth, West Australia. One day, some people came into town and put up a tent near the Perth Station. On his way home, he used to stop at this tent and listen to the meetings. Eventually, he found out that they were Adventists. One night, after he had attended most of the meetings, he said to his wife, “I think we ought to join these Adventist people because what they say makes sense.”
She turned around and said, “O, Wally, you can’t join them; you smoke; and you know they don’t smoke.”
“We’ll see about that,” he said. He took his pipe out of his mouth and his pouch out of his pocket and put them in the fire—and that was it. He never smoked again in his life after that. People say that they can’t give up smoking, but he did it just like that. Later he became a colporteur and then a Bible worker and minister, traveling the Australian continent and New Zealand. Eventually he resigned from the work because his wife was ill and felt she couldn’t take any more transfers; but he still kept his credentials as a minister. Later on, she died.
Some years later, he married my mother, Beatrice Louisa. That’s when I come into the picture. I was born in Victoria, Australia, and when I was about seven, my father died. My mother worked hard to support us financially and spiritually, and we and a few other families accepted the message of the SDA Reform Movement while in Victoria.
The Second World War was still on and many things were rationed. Just at that time, the brethren of the Union Conference were planning to start a missionary school. I had just started work in a factory when it was suggested that I go to the Hebron Missionary Training School.
The school property had several old buildings and these were adapted for our use. We set up a sawmill to make cases for the fruit, and we even sold many to other fruit farmers in the area. On Sabbath afternoons, we would often walk out into the woods and have our afternoon meeting right in the quiet of God’s creation. Sometimes, after Sabbath, Bro. Macdonald—who noted my interest in health—would teach me massage. This was my first introduction to the health work.
We really had some fun with all the hard work and study. The Colo River almost surrounded the property, and it was almost one hundred yards wide in places—of course swimming was the favorite recreation. I don’t have space here to tell you about all the fun times we had.
Bro. Harry Weymark and I were farm boys. We would mostly pick and pack fruit, cultivate the orchard, look after the vegetable garden, and irrigate and spray the orchard. When it was spraying time, we would wear the same clothes for the whole time till the end of the spraying season—not even washing them, as the spray was terrible stuff. When the season was over, the clothes were so stiff with the spray that they could almost stand up in the corner—so we burned them.
On the farm, we began to work with organic principles under the direction of Bro. W. L. Searle. One of the clearest lessons we learned of the benefits of more natural agricultural practices was the time we grew cabbage. We had a good crop; but when market time came, we found that everyone else had a good crop, too, which drove the price so low that it was almost a giveaway market. But someone had the bright idea that maybe the Melbourne market might be better. So we cut half a load in the morning and then made up the balance from the crop of another farmer who had used only artificial fertilizer on his cabbage. That same evening, Jack Wiseman and I began the long 700-mile journey. We traveled all that night, all Monday, and arrived in Melbourne in time for Tuesday’s market. When we removed the tarpaulin, there was a clear difference between our cabbage and those of our farmer friend. Ours were still nice and green while the others were yellow, and a large percentage of them had begun to rot. Best of all, ours brought a better price.
At the end of the first year with Bro. Nicolici as our teacher, there came the time for exams. The Union executive committee came that Sunday morning and sat around the big table with smiling—but to us grim—faces. We were allowed only our Bible under our arm. On the table was a bowl with individual questions in it. One by one we came into the room, and after greeting the brethren, we took one question from the bowl; we had to give our answer using only the Bible.
During the second year, things changed a bit. Bro. Stewart became our teacher, as Bro. Nicolici had too many other responsibilities. We had to be up and ready for worship at 5:30 a.m. The rising bell was at Bro. Stewart’s home, and he usually rang it early enough for us to be on time for worship. Sometimes we were too sleepy to hear it—until we heard him coming up the path. Then there would be a sudden scramble, but we usually managed to get ready in time. I was organist for worship and the possible silence of the organ was a real incentive to me to be in place for the opening hymn.
Near the end of the first year, Bro. Nicolici had called me into his study and said, “You know, Neville, you have been here for some time now. Have you ever thought that perhaps you should be baptized?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Well, is there anything that you don’t understand?” I had one question about the Laodicean message, which he explained. Seeing I understood, he said, “Do you then agree that you should be baptized?” I agreed; and a few weeks later, three of us were the first to be baptized at the Hebron school.
Some years later, I saw that at that previous time I had known nothing of repentance and true conversion, the real meaning of baptism, nor the meaning of a full commitment to Jesus. I knew I wanted to do what was clearly right, and I had a desire for better things and to work for the Lord. I was beginning to have a better idea of the doctrines of the church, but that was not enough. And I am afraid that this same thing has happened to others who have been baptized without really knowing the real meaning of baptism. I know now that I was unconverted; I had come to the place of the old hymn “Some of Self and Some of Thee” [Reformation Hymnal, #355]. Even though I was a good church member and carried many responsibilities in the church, I did not really know Jesus. I did not have that personal experience that is the right and blessing of the true Christian. And because I was only half converted, I was a real legalist. As far as I was concerned, everything was cut and dried. Everything was right because the law said so and by extension, because the church said so. I was a real Pharisee.
I do not suggest that Bro. Nicolici was negligent, for I had been brought up in an Adventist home—my father had been an Adventist minister. It was expected that I would know better. Bro. Nicolici knew and understood the message “Christ Our Righteousness.” Maybe you have read his book: The Lord Our Righteousness. You will know that his presentation is not at all lopsided as are some today. The mistake that was made with me was the same as in the early days of the third angel’s message. The believers had originally come from the Sunday-keeping churches who labored much for the conversion of the people as it was then understood; and when they became Adventists, the brethren did not realize how thorough a preparation was needed for newcomers.
I tell this part of the story, not because of the lack in the beginning of my experience, but because of the experience I made later when I began to know my need and how the Lord brought me to begin to know Him, not only as Saviour and Redeemer, but also as my Friend and Companion.