Can't bear to think of life without Him.

Michael Dunlea (Brisbane)

When my workmate invited me to a Christian Businessmen's lunch, I really wasn't very interested. Many years before, a Baptist workmate had tried to get me "saved", but attending a similar function with him left no impact upon me and I thought this luncheon would be more of the same. When I enquired as to the venue, the name of the hotel indicated that it was the only dry pub in town - run by the Temperance Union. "What? Lunch at The Canberra? That's not lunch!" Lunch was at Tattersall's on a Friday, with two hundred business men in the main dining-room... the only women were the waitresses in their little starched caps and aprons... a bottle of red... what a tremendous atmosphere... now that's what I call lunch!

My friend was a great salesman. "Persistence" was his middle name. He knew that objections had to be overcome. What got me in the end was that he was also a practicing Catholic... surely it can't be all that bad!

At this FCBMFI lunch, the speaker was an American nightclub entertainer - he played the guitar and sang very professionally. He'd been an entertainer in Las Vegas. However, it was not his considerable musical talent that struck me; it was how he talked about Jesus... his friend... as though he walked and talked with Him. He challenged us to know Jesus in that same way. I could not recall anyone ever speaking about Jesus like this. My mother taught me the catechism as a very young child and brought me up in the faith, but it was an era of great reverence and respect for all things holy including the holy name. The nuns at school taught us the habit of bowing our heads at Jesus' name. We were also taught to genuflect whenever coming into the presence of Jesus in church so that "at the name of Jesus every head should bow and every knee should bend." Jesus was a distant figure. I knew about Him; He was our blessed Saviour and Redeemer... I just didn't know Him in that personal relationship way.

I thought it was an extraordinary coincidence that a few weeks before this luncheon, a friend of mine at our local parish church had invited me to consider a Cursillo weekend. Never having heard of this Spanish word... meaning a "little course" in Christianity... I asked, "What does it do?" "It brings God alive," was the reply. I felt my heart leap and something within me cried, "I need that!" I casually said, "That might be OK... put my name down."

My spiritual life was pathetic, almost non-existent; just a few 'rote' prayers before bed, and church on Sundays. I knew there had to be more to it. I think it was President Jimmy Carter who said "If being a Christian was a criminal offence, would there be enough evidence to convict you?" I would have escape scot-free during the week, but looked OK on a Sunday, helping around the church

The next Cursillo weekend was not until the end of January. The FGBMF lunch occurred in December. I had responded internally to the challenge at that luncheon, saying, "Yes, I'd like to know Jesus in the way this entertainer knows Him." On the Cursillo weekend, I met Him! On the second day, with about thirty men gathered in the chapel, I had this emotional response. At the time, I thought it was a purely temporary emotional feeling. Back at work two day later, I knew it wasn't temporary. I had this deep inner awareness. For the first time I was on intimate first name term with Almighty God and that name was Jesus! It was a conversion of heart; or 'born-again' experience. From that time on, I had a great hunger for God. I was searching for more.

I dragged my wife and our friends to the Catholic charismatic prayer group at Bardon which had been established for some years, and we had been warned about it. "Don't go there... it's all very emotional... all hugging each other speaking in tongues etc." So we went to have a 'sticky-beak' and they were right It was all very strange. I'd never seen pe₉ple worshipping with upraised hands before or heard prayer tongues. It was the gift of prophecy that convinced me. The first night across this crowded church I saw the woman who was speaking so beautifully, as though Almighty God Himself was speaking encouragingly to us. I thought, "She must be reading that - it flows from her so eloquentlv." The following week I could see she wasn't reading - she had her eyes closed and her hands outstretched. I thought, "She must be some sort of actress - she must have spent time learning her lines before the meeting." At the next meeting it struck me - this woman is exercising the gift of prophecy (1 Cor. 14:23-25). It was as if God Himself was visiting these people. We attended this meeting for many years and grew in understanding of the Holy Spirit

The Baptism in the Holy Spirit

I researched every thing I could find in order to prove the orthodoxy and authenticity of this very real experience of God. I found we were in very good company with evidence that some of the great Saints of Christendom prayed in "tongues". I was equally encouraged when a visiting Jesuit professor from a major Theological college in Rome told about Pope John Paul. The Pope speaks about 7 languages but his administrative assistants could not "pick" the language he often used in prayer Of course it was the prayer language he never learned.. the one he received at age 11 as a result of his devotion to the Holy Spirit.

Previously my attempts to read the Bible were fruitless. I found it to be almost incomprehensible and gave up. Now passages virtually leapt out. It was as though a veil had lifted, a spiritual blindness had gone.

We shared our new-found belief in the Gifts of the Holy Spirit, and prayed for healing over a number of terminally-ill cancer patients, all without apparent result. I used to say my success rate in such cases was 100%... they all died! However recently I was reminded of praying for a man in Mt. Olivet (a hospice for the dying) at the request of his wife. It seemed like another failure, but his wife later told us that he, who had been bitterly opposed to Christianity, died a day or so later with the Scriptures in his hand and praises on his lips.

On another occasion a woman spoke to me at our prayer meeting and reminded me that I and others had prayed with her for healing some 5 years earlier Since that time she had been working on a mission outpost in the Philippines and in perfect health. She had been healed of emphysema and diabetes, both of which she reminded me are incurable If Jesus used a donkey, I guess he can use any of us if we are available

Tragedy Strikes

One of my sons had been working for a year, had just bought a car and for the first time was proudly able to repay favours by driving his 3 mates to their Gold Coast surf club where they were volunteer lifesavers each summer week-end. On the journey, an accident ensued, caused by a number of factors but principally due to inexperience and excessive speed, The four 18 year olds were unhurt but the two young women in the other car were killed. The grief and devastation was beyond belief... for the girls... their families... our sons... there are no words to describe this black period. I expressed concern for these young women and their families at our church. Who were these girls? How could their parents cope with such horror? Did they have any faith to support them? How could they ever forgive my son? A nun came to the microphone; she had attended the meeting for 8 years and had never spoken publicly before. She mentioned that she had missed the previous week as she'd been home to see her sick mother who lived in a little town in country Victoria. She said that while she was there, they had brought home the bodies of two young friends who had been killed in a car accident while on a working holiday on the Gold Coast. She answered my questions! Sister Gretta told us how the girls had gone through convent school together... two lovely Christian girls whom she had known from childhood. It was a great comfort to my wife and I to know that we could entrust them to the Lord with confidence, and that their families had faith which we prayed would sustain them in their grief. About a year later, our son was convicted of dangerous driving causing death, and sentenced to a prison term. We receive a letter from one of the mothers. Expressing her concern for our son an assuring us of her prayers for him!

When considering the odds of this information coming from thousands of miles away, from a remote little country town in the back blocks of Victoria - It was just staggering to me and beyond coincidence. God used Sister Gretta as His messenger to answer my prayer.

We thank God for looking after our son, and we saw His providence in many ways during this trying period an subsequently. We are very proud of this son of ours who is now a very loving father of our only grandchild.

We are so grateful for coming into this relationship with Almighty God. can't bear to think of life without Him.. and thanks to the FGBMFI men for their witness and encouragement.

FOOTNOTE: Michael and Jan have been married for 43 years and attend their local Catholic church.

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