Waves softly swish against the sandy shore, the tide has turned, ruthless relentless its dancing waters hesitate, retreat then surge and swirl. Sand castles linked in strong formations stand proud, “thus far no further” they challenge. The blue waters sparkle, smiling in time honoured fashion to keep the endless routines of tides and wash clean all such man made trophies and boasts. The beach sun kissed now abandoned, the sand castles a happy memory, the sand flat and cleaned once more.
Mick Taylor used this powerful metaphor to remind us this Westpoint that all lives, all ministry, achievements and boasting are time bound. Herod’s temple a vanity project naive of AD 70.
Westpoint is temporal, tent life, portable showers, sports trophies, skills on display. Chairs, marquees, platforms, PA, lights and bright stage within a few days obsolete for another year, cars kicking up dust to return to normal life.
Westpoint is eternal. A six year old confesses Christ, another child deaf in one ear hears for the first time, young people in their scores filled with Holy Spirit. Speakers pour out their hearts to inspire our generation from the story of Acts, to write their own God stories. Who will forget Terry Virgo’s “Tessa”, Guy’s “flight safety”, or Andrew Wilson’s retelling of Romans? We laughed, cried, rejoiced and were caught up in heavenly worship led by the nations to the nations. Thousands of lives transformed, through hundreds of churches in tens of nations.
We gave ourselves to God and one another in amazing ways, not least the offering of money and men and women saying yes to leave comfort for an eternal harvest.
I have returned home humbled to serve such outstanding people. Yes the sun did shine, the ice cream van made a cracking profit but we in Commission run together for a greater prize.