“The Church still claims to proclaim the good news of Christ, the wisdom and dynamic of God. How could the message of the living God in Christ produce people so bland, innocuous and irrelevant, so capable of being ignored, so – boring? There is only one answer – an absence of Jesus Christ from our Christianity.”
Eric Delve, ‘To Boldly Go.’
I have been on the phone this morning with Pat Delve who kindly said she had been trying to contact me in person to let me know her husband, my friend, former mentor, boss and as you’ll read here ‘spiritual dad’ Eric yesterday went home to Jesus. As I process the news I thought I might do so by remembering him here on paper as I along with so many today will be grateful for the way he was used by God as now his life and message will (to borrow from a men’s day he spoke at) ECHO IN ETERNITY.
In 1985 I was a proud young police officer, convinced of my own righteousness by comparison with those I’d arrested – I spent much time off duty getting drunk in clubs and was dedicated 24/7 to chasing girls when I met one who was different and found out the difference was she claimed to be a Christian.
I tried to put her off God to get her interested in someone far more important – me. It didn’t work and the only ‘date’ I got her to agree to was that she would take me to a church meeting where she had to do something called ‘youth counselling’ after hearing an ‘evangelist.’ I had no idea what any of that meant but agreed because I’d be spending time with her.
So it was I found myself one midweek night in a church with the ‘godbotherers’ (as I and colleagues labelled such people) in a place called Glossop at an event called “DOWN TO EARTH WITH DELVE.’ Having not been on holy ground since I was at primary school, I only hoped to stay awake. I was in for a series of surprises.
The first – people were friendly, warm and seemed excited – and there were a LOT of them there!
A smiling lady welcomed us from the front and then a good band with people who could play their instruments brought some great music, most of which I didn’t recognise but enjoyed. I was also surprised to find there were quite a lot of young people in the room, then some young people got up and performed a powerful drama which ended up with a guy in a white T-shirt – who I assumed to be Jesus- being nailed up onto a step ladder, while portions of scripture about people preferring darkness to light started to challenge me about my own dismissal of God, and how at the age of 21 as a man of the world who knew everything , perhaps there was more to this than I’d written off.
Finally a strikingly good looking big man with lots of cool hair in a leather jacket took the stage with a Bible in one hand and nails in the other. He was the most captivating and charismatic communicator I had ever seen live in person, and as someone brought up in the Working Mens Clubs of Manchester where so many ‘big names’ had cut their teeth and if you were no good the patrons shouted ‘Pay ‘im up!’, this was quite a compliment.
As an ordinary bloke, this man spoke my language about a man he said was his friend, Jesus Christ. Eric (great name!) painted with a powerful combination of eloquence and simplicity pictures of the best man who ever lived, from the eyewitness accounts in the gospels of how he proved himself to more than a man but the only Son of God by dying and rising again. As someone used to interviewing witnesses the way he spoke helped me see and hear them too – even more clearly than watching The Chosen would today. I could see that the title of the event ‘Down To Earth With Delve’ was well suited.
This was not the final night, that would be the Friday, and I decided I would go back then – and this time not just for the girl.
Friday night was similar in many ways, good stuff but really I just wanted them to get on with it so I could hear more from this Eric fella, because even though I did not believe what he believed I could tell that he really believed it.
He spoke again, about a woman reaching out to touch the hem of Jesus’ garment and that she was healed when her need and faith connected with his divine love. It was like I saw her hand reach out, as if I was there. It was as if, as many would say after, he was just talking to me.
Then there was nobody else in the room as he held up one of those nails and said, “This is a Roman nail that was dug up near Hadrian’s Wall – and it’s the kind of nail that would have been driven into Jesus’ hands and into his feet when he was nailed to the cross – and I don’t know if you love anybody enough to say don’t have that kind of suffering happen to them I’ll do it instead but that’s how much Jesus loves you that’s how much Jesus has loved you and that kind of love calls for a response.”
My response that night was to chicken out … though I rationalised that I would go away and think some more about it – but within a few weeks I met the man on the cross, alive again, in a life transforming way, but it was Eric who had been my John the Baptist pointing to Him, my Evangelist pointing to the wicket gate saying ‘You’d better run toward it now!’
By the time I was thirty I reconnected, nearing the end of my time of training at theological college through our mutual friend J John. I was invited to speak by Eric in Liverpool, which was a great privilege and incredibly scary at the same time. He said he’d have loved to invite me to be his curate then but the urban area he’d gone to be the Vicar at (away from the big stages including one time when he preached instead of Billy Graham at a stadium event) was too poor to pay into the diocese to allow it.
A few years later though it did work out that I was invited to be his associate minister at St Lukes Maidstone. I knew it was right to come when as part of our time together just before Christmas he was asked by the MP to get up and ‘share a few words’ at a civic Carol service. Without preparation except Eric was ‘ever ready’ – he encapsulated the mystery of the incarnation, the excitement of the shepherds, the acknowledgement of the Magi, rejection of the proud, and invitation to all – with such an anointing to reach these people who would never usually be in church (lots of humour, impressions and funny voices helped). Where else would I rather go and learn?
On his A game (yes I admit he’d ramble sometimes and so did he with a twinkle in his eye) I believe Eric was the finest preacher to reach ordinary people that the nation has produced in his generation. He was also my spiritual Dad, and not just by his message but his mentoring, prayer and support. He opened doors and introduced me to people with incredible generosity including that for many years as a younger man I was privileged to be part of a group of older wiser friends – the HIPPOS – where we would regularly pray for and open our hearts and lives to one another over a couple of days.
I loved his laugh, and shared many of his heartfelt tears too as he prayed for the people. He was incredibly open as a Pastor to care deeply for people – instituting a weekly meeting open to anyone at St Lukes to come and share anything they wanted and receiving prayer and the three years I was there with him during which the first Detling Conference started which went on to see many thousands being delegates over the years being so blessed.
I have kept in touch over the years mostly by phone as distance separated us but on 22nd March Zoe and I were privileged to gather with family and many friends packing out a large church building in Weston Super Mare for brilliant worship by the reformed ‘Deling Band’ – where some of us gave messages of appreciation for his ministry and impact. At the end of the time Eric who was obviously unwell rallied himself and from his chair now came alive in the Spirit as he once more urged us all to “Live like we mean it”.
I know that in these later years Eric never really retired and has been working on a book which he felt would be his Magnus opus, whenever he told me about it he said again it was going to be about the glory and beauty of Jesus – always front and centre in his life and ministry. I don’t know if that book is as yet unfinished but his work here is done and now I can smile as I imagine as he stands with his Saviour and saying, “Blimey! I didn’t know the half of it!’”
