PART II

WHAT HAPPENED!

A sequel to

"MY DAMASCUS ROAD"

A Test and Trial of Faith

"Every way of a man is right in his own eyes: but the Lord pondereth the hearts" (Prov. 21:2)

Foreword

FRANCISCO LACUEVA'S return to Spain, involving his apparent abandonment of the evangelical faith, brought great sorrow to all true Protestants in the United Kingdom. It brought even greater sorrow to Protestants in Spain who could not but feel that a severe blow had been inflicted upon those whose evangelical position was difficult enough already.

It was inevitable in the circumstances that questions should have been asked and these indicated that many friends were deeply disturbed with what had transpired. Many of those questions have remained unanswered, so that Mr. Lacueva's account will be welcomed on that score. It will be welcomed also for its clear evidence that our brother has found his way back to a truly reformed faith, which, without doubt, is the only adequate alternative to Romanism. I was privileged recently to sit in on a conversation between Mr. Lacueva and another converted Roman priest, during which they discussed their respective `Damascus Roads', and subsequent experiences. In no uncertain terms both expressed the view that current popular protestantism has little to offer Roman Catholics who know their dogma but are not necessarily satisfied with it. Their own spiritual pilgrimages had clearly shown them that the only answer to Romanism today is that body of truth which was so effectively and decisively preached by Luther and Calvin.

One important lesson to be learnt from this book is that Roman Catholic priests and laymen, when converted, must be given time and opportunity for that drastic adjustment which necessarily follows their conversion before they are invited to testify to their new-found faith.

If there is any one person who, under God, is responsible for the author's return from Spain and recovery of evangelical religion, that person is Mrs. Lacueva, whose faith and fortitude throughout long, heart-rending months have been so amply vindicated. May she and her husband find joy and purpose through God's abundant blessing in the days to come.

T. OMRI JENKINS

(European Missionary Fellowship).

An Appreciation

I AM GLAD that Dr. Francisco Lacueva has written an account of his experiences during the past few years. Incidents often happen in a life which make a profound impression upon others and related experiences become firmly fixed in the mind. Both of these statements have been proved to be true, where I am concerned, as a result of my association with Dr. Lacueva.

If the reader of this book heard Dr. Lacueva tell his story or has read his other book, "My Damascus Road" (now reprinted and amended in this new edition), it will be easy to understand the deep impression which the events of Dr. Lacueva's life have made upon me. From my very first contact with him onwards, there was never any doubt in my mind concerning his conversion from Romanism to the Gospel of Christ, through faith alone in Christ. There were, however, certain evidences of the need for clarity concerning his experience, but this was understandable in the light of all the circumstances which surrounded his conversion.

The disappearance of Dr. Lacueva certainly came as a shock and aroused great alarm, which was followed by somewhat uncontrolled wild rumours. An urgent call to prayer in Belfast, at the time of his disappearance, resulted in one of the most blessed prayer meetings that I have ever been privileged to attend. Prayer was sustained for Dr. Lacueva over the whole period following his disappearance.

No one will ever understand fully the thrill and joy it was to me to receive the news of the return of Dr. Lacueva and then to speak with him on the telephone. It was a moment of deep emotion and of thanksgiving to God.

The privilege of having some little part in the preparation of this publication and an opportunity to share in the fellowship of the united Lacueva family have been added joys. It is my sincerest prayer and wish that this account of "What Happened!" will prove to be a real source of blessing to all who read it, and, above all, that its circulation will be to the glory of God, Who has in His own Sovereign way done great things of which we are glad.

NORMAN PORTER,

(Evangelical Protestant Society).

Introduction

ON returning to my home in England and to the Evangelical faith, I wondered whether I should write an account of my painful experiences over the last three years. Then I considered that my case had already received excessive publicity and that it would be wiser to remain silent in the intimacy of my home and in the limited circle of brethren in the faith with whom I attend religious services, and in the renewed fellowship of all those here, in the British Isles, who have taken an interest in my welfare. But without exhibitions, meetings or written testimonies.

In such conversion testimonies, especially those of ex-priests, it is so easy to allow a certain desire to draw attention to oneself to mingle with the best intentions; and of this I wished to remain free.

However, as the days passed after August 12 last year (1967), I came to realize that (a) my brethren in the British Isles, Spain and Spanish America required an explanation of my strange disappearance; (b) this explanation could well help many other ex-priests who may experience a crisis similar to my own and finally (c) in the happy outcome of my crisis, which God in His mercy provided, there is a message for all Christianity at a time when such confusion reigns over Ecumenism and Christian Unity.

Now, after much prayer and reflection, I have decided to put in writing an account of this crisis, which has been very sad indeed in many ways. First of all, I publicly confess my sin against God and before my wife and feel no more worthy to be called a servant of Christ Jesus, having secretly left my home in England in such a way to go back to Spain and ask readmission into the Roman Catholic Church.

Although I actually came to the conclusion that, for conscience' sake, I had to leave my wife and ask for readmission into the Roman Church, this so-called "good faith" did not exculpate before the Lord my wrong behaviour. The Word of God warns us quite clearly, on this point, that it is only the real and objective truth which provided the ground for salvation:

"Then said Jesus to those which believed on Him, If ye continue in My word, then are ye my disciples indeed;

"And ye shall know THE TRUTH and the truth shall make you free" (John 8:31,32),

and not the subjective conclusions of the individual:

"There is a way which SEEMETH RIGHT unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death" (Prov. 14:12; 16:25).

For example, if the "good faith", that is, "sincere conscience", were a sufficient ground to exculpate a wrong behaviour, the vast majority of the atheistic communists the world over would then be saved, since these communists adhere to the Marxist ideals most sincerely and enthusiastically.

I would humbly ask my Roman Catholic readers to excuse me if any of my statements hurt their feelings. This is not my intention; I wish only to give testimony of an experience and of the pressure exerted on my weakened mind by certain ideas. I cannot linger now over an exhaustive explanation as to how my former doubts have been resolved. This I hope to do shortly in my next book, "On the road to Christian Unity". When that book has been published, I shall be very pleased to discuss its contents with any interested reader.

Before proceeding further, I wish to lay down five basic standards for an "evangelical" ecumenical dialogue and these I should like all my brethren to bear in mind when trying to convince a person holding different confessional principles:

(1) Recognise in all humility that the light we see and the salvation we experience is the fruit of the free grace of God.

(2) Not to argue doctrinal points on which we have no exact and proved information. Nearly all books discussing Roman Catholicism suffer from this defect.

(3) Be ready to admit the sincerity of the convictions of our readers and interlocutors. It is a very serious mistake to think, for example, that all Roman Catholics or the priesthood as a whole are a body of ignorant people or hypocrites.

(4) Not to try to make a proselyte but to win a soul for Jesus Christ.

(5) Remember that it is the Roman Catholic system, not the individual person, which is responsible for error and deviation from the Gospel.

Using these standards in our efforts to win souls, access by the mysterious action of the Holy Spirit to the heart of our neighbours will be easier, and they themselves will realize that if any affirmation hurts them it is in order to heal, not to harm them, just as a good surgeon's scalpel hurts. We cannot be silent when the love of Christ constrains us. Often silence is the greatest betrayal of the Gospel.

A Serious Danger

ON reading once again the first chapter of the First Epistle of St. Paul to the faithful of Corinth, my eyes penetrated as if for the first time the deep meaning contained in verses 26 and 27:

"For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble are called:

"But God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty".

So many times I have wondered why we ex-priests find it so difficult to accept the pure Gospel of Christ and to continue in the simplicity of the Gospel.

Perhaps those verses of St. Paul hold the answer.

A few months ago, here in Tunbridge Wells, I attended a lantern lecture on the evangelising labours of the "Spanish Gospel Mission" in several areas of southern Spain. The simple faith of those ordinary farmers, labourers, etc., and the modest wives of rustic villagers, impressed me more than many sermons.

Yes; the simple villagers, many of whom can only just read and write (and who sometimes cannot even do that), and cannot boast of academic degrees or theology courses, or any great learning, but feel their need of salvation and hunger and thirst after righteousness--these are the most ready to receive in simplicity, joy and peace the "Good News" of the love of God, through Jesus Christ, to men (see John 3:16).

Not that I despise theological study. I still hold the same affection and reverence for Theology. But a purely mental and more or less academic study of Theology, especially of Scholastic Theology based scarcely, if at all, on the Word of God, can only swell the head, leaving the heart empty:

"Knowledge puffeth up, but charity edifieth"(1 Cor. 8:1).

I dare not pass judgment on the sincerity of the testimonies of many of my companions who have been converted to the evangelical faith, just as I am sorry to have had the sincerity of my own conversion doubted. But I wish to point out one danger which is common to us, as ex-priests, however upright our intentions may be in such a radical change as conversion to Christ.

When many years have been spent in studying, reading, hearing, teaching and preaching the doctrines characteristic of the Church of Rome, and beneath the dead weight of a family and national tradition modelled exclusively on Roman Catholic patterns, there always remains during the time immediately following a conversion to the Gospel a residue difficult to eliminate all at once, a "substratum" which cannot be replaced in a day or even a month. Much study of the Word of God is required, much reflection and much prayer. What is needed is, in the right sense of the word, a "brain-washing".

I must confess that, in my supposed self-sufficiency as Professor of Theology and Magister Canon, I underestimated this danger. I read a great deal, meditated less, prayed little and began to devote myself wholly to broadcasting without the necessary preparation. I shall never forget the wise admonition of Rev. John Savage at the close of our first meeting at Torquay, at the beginning of July, 1962: "Before dedicating oneself to the ministry, a considerable time should be spent in the desert, as in Paul's case, in prayer and meditation. If this is lacking, it will always be reflected in the ministry".

It brings me some consolation to know that through those brief messages which I had the privilege of broadcasting to my fellow-countrymen on Radio Monte Carlo and Radio ELWA and sent on magnetic tapes to certain individuals, for more than nineteen months many thousands of people were able to hear the pure message of the Gospel and numbers unknown to us were able to receive Jesus Christ through faith as their personal, all-sufficient Saviour. Without doubt, those nineteen months were the most profitable of my whole life.

Now, at this stage, I feel I should render tribute to the self-sacrificing labours of Don Luis de Wirtz and the "Sentinels' Union", who patronised the work and covered all the expenses.

However, I realize that my biblical knowledge was not sufficiently deep, nor my spiritual life steadfast enough. I would add that perhaps my physical capacity for work was then more limited than might have been supposed.

The Dark Night of the Spirit

SHORTLY after the publication of my book, "My Damascus Road", I began to receive letters from former companions and friends to whom I had sent a copy. The tone of these letters varied greatly: it was nearly always charitable (or let us say compassionate), offering prayers and encouraging me to return, but always deploring my decision to leave the Church of Rome. Some contained a more or less veiled attack.

The majority of letters I received in reply to our broadcast messages, even from Roman Catholics (and from some priests) were more favourable.

One priest from Salamanca, who has since entered the Roman Catholic mission field in South America, said to me: "I hear your messages regularly on Radio Monte Carlo and when I compare them with those of Radio Vaticano, I do not need to comment on the difference.... "

However, Spanish ecclesiastical circles were more familiar with the book which my former pupil, Dr. Manuel Fernández, Magister Canon of Santander, wrote in 1963 in reply to mine, under the title "Your Damascus Road?"

As is usual in such cases, the author tried to expose to the public certain traits of my character which, according to him, had contributed to my desertion from the Roman Church. Then he went on to refute the main affirmations contained in my book.

In this, he had a considerable advantage over me, since many priests and friends of mine dared not read my book for fear of excommunication, but burnt it unread, whilst his book, which had been approved by the Church and had the preface written by the Bishop of the Diocese himself, could be read by all.

At the time when my spiritual crisis occurred in the early months of 1964, I had already prepared for publication the book already mentioned, entitled "On the Road to Christian Unity" (which I have improved and added to and hope to publish soon, D.V., under the title "The Problem of Christian Unity"), in which, at the same time, I completely destroyed Dr. Fernández' arguments, which were very weak from the Biblical point of view.

I must confess that, in reality, my temperament influenced my return to Spain and to the Church of Rome much more than it influenced my decision to leave it.

I have no intention of excusing myself in these pages for my mistaken decision in leaving my home to seek readmission to the Roman Church. I do not ask for excuses, but only for understanding and compassion. God alone, who will judge us all, knows the bitter pathway of my crisis and certain details must remain hidden until the Final Day of Judgement. For my part, I have learnt never to judge anyone, in accordance with the commandment of Christ (Mt. 7:1 ff), but to understand all who pass through similar problems and to walk humbly before God and man.

My aim is to give a natural and sincere explanation of my actions and of their intimate causes in order that my brethren in the faith may understand them more easily.

As a child, my weak constitution and nervous temperament, together with a family upbringing which deprived me of all initiative (I was an only child and my father died when I was six years old) and then my preparation at the seminary under the dominion of fear, and repression, causing diminution of personality, all worked together to leave me defenceless against life's problems, which seemed to me so difficult, whilst other children, stronger or more shrewd than I, took full advantage of the circumstances. Only in the latter part of my ecclesiastical career did I encounter two Superiors who took some interest in stimulating my good qualities.

However, because many other factors of temperament and surroundings were unfavourable to me, even my academic successes had a harmful effect on my character, making me hyper-sensitive, with an inordinate craving for success, and reticent; and, in consequence, fearful, timid, resentful, uncommunicative and anxious to avoid complications: and so my ever-ready smile and my well-known "sympathy" for all men (attitudes which helped me without being aware of it to live without enemies) were of little value before God, who alone knows what is in the heart.

My best friends in Spain reproach me for not having taken them into my confidence concerning my problems. I should like them to understand now why I did not. It was the fear of lowering myself in their estimation and falling from my pedestal which prevented this.

In these circumstances, I am not surprised that many were amazed at my radical decision in June, 1962, to make a complete break from the Roman Catholic Church and embrace the evangelical faith. Dr. Fernández says, in his book, "Your Damascus Road?", p. 5:

"No one, so far as I can understand, suspected you of such a decision. Those who knew you well would not have considered you even capable of it. Your timid, peace-loving spirit, avoiding all complications and much more inclined toward a comfortable life than to becoming entangled in anything involving compromise, prevented us from doing so”.

Psychologists know that introvert, secondary and apparently timid characters such as mine lack the physical energy to react in normal everyday life. Yet, when an idea begins to possess them, small volumes of such energy are accumulated little by little until one day they feel physically capable of carrying out the most fundamental decisions.

Doubtless, Dr. Fernández, like many other superficial observers (despite his presuming to "know me well") had not noticed that beside my many psychological and moral weaknesses I have always had one positive quality (as much a gift of God as the splendid qualities of others)--a great love of truth and justice. My intimate friends (those who really "know me well") and my former companions in the Chapter will not deny this.

Therefore, despite my "timid, peace-loving character, avoiding all complications and inclined toward a comfortable life . . . ", I decided to take such a difficult and important step, because I had discovered that the Roman Catholic system is false and unjust.

After these introductory remarks, I will pass on to explain the course of my crisis.

Notwithstanding the limitations of my emotional life, there still remained in my heart some vibrant chord which was brought into play by certain sentiments.

After my meetings of preaching and testimony in England, I received some anonymous notes and brief messages from various staunch Roman Catholics, containing prayers, addresses of priests, small pictures of St. Judas, reproaches, etc. Particularly violent (and beyond the limits of the proverbial English courtesy) was the letter I received from a well-known ex-nun, in reply to my offer of spiritual help in a letter I wrote to her at the suggestion of a third party. To her I was simply one of many editions of Judas Iscariot.

As my work became too great for my strength and I began to suffer from nervous exhaustion, four obsessive ideas took possession of my mind:

1. In view of the diversity of Biblical interpretations and the responsibility of private study of the Bible in the Protestant field, I believed that the infallible authority of some organ of authentic interpretation was necessary, such as the Hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church claims to be.

In this, one of my temperamental characteristics came to the fore and found in me, as in so many Roman Catholics, fertile ground for abandoning personal study of the Word of God: the anxiety to avoid personal responsibility in seeking out the truth and to put on the shoulders of others the task of taking the initiative in the matter of our salvation and the moral ordering of our lives. Is not the religious ignorance of the masses in predominantly Roman Catholic countries due largely to this?

Moreover, the power of the priests relies to a certain extent on this very ignorance, since a laity too familiar with the Bible and the History of the Church could create problems for a religious hierarchy which may be little accustomed itself, as a rule, to the study and detailed examination of such material. It has rightly been said that the reason we have dictators is that the masses have not acquired the power of independent action.

Without doubt, here lies the power which the expression "Holy Mother Church" exercises over the minds and hearts of Roman Catholics and, above all, of priests. This expression which, to the Roman Catholic mentality refers particularly to the teachings and rules of the Hierarchy, contributes to maintain in the faithful a "child" complex, which encourages its subjects to cling blindly to the skirts of the "Mother" and elude the development of personal responsibility and initiative regarding the knowledge and practice of the message which the Word of God addresses to each of us.

And now, when speaking of this, I cannot help looking back at my country, Spain, considered by many to be the perfect example of a Roman Catholic nation where, since 1939, the clergy have had an unparalleled opportunity to teach religion in schools, institutions and universities; yet the level of preparation, competence and ability to perform this task is usually so low that students in my country are profoundly disappointed with official religious teaching.

Returning to my experience, I must admit that under the impact of this idea--the supposed necessity for an infallible authority--I forgot two facts of supreme importance, one Biblical in character and the other historical.

I forgot the Biblical fact that from the book of the prophet Isaiah to the first Epistle of St. John the Holy Scriptures emphasise that one of the characteristics of the new Covenant of God with His new "people" is that for each one of the faithful to possess fully the Holy Spirit there is no need of special teaching authority, such as that of the priests and prophets in the Old Testament, but that "all thy children shall be taught of the Lord" (see Is. 54:13; Jer. 31:34; John 6:45; 14:26; Heb. 8:11; 1 John 2:20,27).

Needless to say, we cannot expect the Holy Spirit to replace entirely the necessary study, the guidance of specialists in the subject and constant prayer for the interpretation of difficult passages of the Bible.

The historical fact which I forgot is that the so-called infallible teaching authority of the Church has very frequently been wrong in its interpretation of the Word of God. We could quote here innumerable examples, including many interpretations by the Council of Trent, but, in view of the size of this book, we will mention here only one.

Boniface VIII, in his famous Bull "Unam Sanctam" in 1302 solemnly proclaimed ("ex cathedra") that "it is altogether necessary to salvation for every human creature to be subject to the Roman Pontiff" (see Denzinger, No. 875; in old editions, No. 469). The declaration is well known, but what is less well known (because the books replace with leaders a considerable part of the papal argument) is the curious Biblical basis which the Pope lays down for such a daring assertion. Let us examine one of the arguments (the rest are equally weak, though not so laughable) in its entirety:

"And we learn from the words of the Gospel that in this Church and in her power are two swords, the spiritual and the temporal. For when the Apostles said, `Behold, here' (that is, in the Church, since it was the Apostles who spoke) `are two swords'--the Lord did not reply, `It is too much', but `It is enough' (Luke 22:38). Truly he who denies that the temporal sword is in the power of Peter misunderstands the words of the Lord, `Put up thy sword into the sheath' (John 18:11). Both are in the power of the Church, the spiritual sword and the material. But the latter is to be used for the Church, the former by her; the former by the priest, the latter by kings and captains, but at the will and by the permission of the priest. The one sword, then, should be under the other, and temporal authority subject to spiritual. For when the Apostle says `there is no power but of God, and the powers that be are ordained of God' (Rom. 13:1) they would not be so ordained were not one sword made subject to the other".

It need hardly be said that not even the least discerning of present-day students of Bible Exegesis would be convinced of the accuracy or infallibility of such a curious interpretation, yet this remains as a permanent example of the "infallible" interpretation of such teaching authority and of the Biblical basis for a dogmatic definition which continues to weigh on the conscience of all faithful Roman Catholics.

In order to elude the force of this reasoning, many modern Roman Catholic theologians say that only exegetical interpretations solemnly defined as such are infallible and that, in reality, the infallible definitions of the Church are very few, maybe less than twenty. However, this is such a debatable point that not even specialists in this field manage to agree as to the use of a so-called "infallible teaching authority" which can pronounce solemn declarations only on a very limited number of occasions, leaving faithful Roman Catholics on countless numbers of extremely important issues without any well-defined rule concerning the degree of obligation with which the various ecclesiastical teachings seek to bind the consciences of the people.

2. The second idea which obsessed my disturbed mind was the need for external unity of the Church, since I misunderstood this problem of unity. The Ecumenical Movement, which appeared to dominate the preliminary discussions of the Second Vatican Council, and the constant hammering on my eyes and ears of verse 21 of chapter 17 of the Gospel according to St. John brought me to the erroneous conviction that the external unity of the Church was of supreme importance. I finally told myself, and later repeated many times to Roman Catholic friends in Spain, that I saw in Protestantism greater orthodoxy but in Catholicism more unity.

One of the greatest advantages of the two and a half years which I spent in two monasteries in comparative solitude and retreat, with much time for study and meditation, was the opportunity I had to devote myself completely to the study of St. John's inspired writings (Gospel, Epistles, Revelation).

Thus the study of the passage previously mentioned (John 17:21) led me to the following conclusions, which I will explain briefly:

(a) It is most probable (as a certain relevant Roman Catholic scholar also admits) that Jesus' prayer in this chapter refers exclusively to the Twelve Apostles, the twentieth verse being in parenthesis and verse 21 following on from verse 19. The content of verses 22-29 seems to corroborate this opinion. So it can be understood that the Lord prayed fervently and effectively for the closest unity of the Twelve to the end that his unparalleled testimony before the world (both spoken and written) might have monolithic unity.

As for the further development of the Church, it is natural that external unity be subject to all those imperfections common to the evolution of any organism made of human, fallible and defective materials. Only the Eschatological Church (at the end of all time) will be truly "one", as she alone will be perfectly holy, catholic and apostolic.

This does not make the problem of division any less serious. It would be desirable for the Reformed Churches, without losing their denominational characteristics, to agree to accept a kind of "credo" or series of articles summarising the doctrinal points necessary and sufficient to embrace them all under the superdenomination of "Evangelical Church", modelled on the Church described in the New Testament and having full Biblical orthodoxy. The various denominations would cover up their differences under this common denominator more sincerely and effectively than the various Romanist Theological "Schools" (Dominicans, Jesuits, Augustinians, Franciscans, etc.) conceal their differences, which are sometimes greater than those existing between the different Protestant denominations, beneath a more or less sincere and cordial obeisance to all the dogmatic teachings of their Church.

(b) Careful examination of John 17:21 also brings us to the conclusion that the unity to which Jesus refers is, above all, an internal unity. Firstly, vertical: as the Father in Jesus and Jesus in the Father, so all the faithful must be one in Jesus and in the Father. Now indeed the union between Jesus and the Father is total: Jesus is the "Word of God made flesh" (John 1:14), that is, the perfect expression of the saving truth and of the amazing love of the Father (John 1:1,18). Orthodoxy and Love, Truth and Service, are inseparable in the Church as well as within the Holy Trinity. Thus, the more we partake of the truth and of the love of God, the more we are one in the Father with Christ.

This internal unity must be reflected externally, to serve as a testimony to the world: "that the world may believe that thou hast sent Me" (John 17:21). In the same way that Virgil in his Aeneid could say of Juno: "incessu patuit dea" ("By her walk alone it was evident that she was a goddess"), so the Christian in his conduct must show that he is a "child of God". This is what attracted the attention of the people when they saw the Apostles: “they took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus" (Acts 4:13).

This inner unity must be horizontal also, amongst the faithful themselves. If each of us is one with God in Christ, the totality of Divine Truth and of Divine Love must dwell in all and be manifest in all one to another. Therefore the distinctive sign of Christianity is: "By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another" (John 13:35). And the heathen perceived the strength of this testimony, exclaiming with admiration: "See how these Christians love one another".

(c) If the totality of the Word of God is not preached to the world (neither adding to nor taking away from it --see Rev. 22:18,19) or if the differences between Churches are widened by selfishness or spiritual pride, Christian testimony leaves much to be desired. If each of us endeavours to live the life of the Gospel, in constant prayer and testimony, to hasten the coming of the Kingdom of God and enliven spiritual communion with the Holy Trinity in Christ (1 John 1:3), the barriers existing between denominations will be lowered, just as the fences between adjacent fields of wheat disappear from view as the crops grow.

On the other hand, mere external unity in the form of a carefully systematised uniform organisation, with all its outward show and impact on the eyes of the flesh (hence the Vatican's power of propaganda), is no more than a caricature of true unity, for the outward uniformity seen by the world and admired by the ignorant is the fruit of a spiritual dictatorship claiming to be the exclusive organ of the Holy Spirit, and with a drier and more detailed code than the Talmud with its innumerable prescriptions.

It is not easy to find the Holy Spirit in a system which suppresses the true liberty of the children of God (yet the Holy Spirit may be present in the faithful of all denominations, even those which have strayed furthest from the Gospel, because He is omnipotent and acts when and where He pleases). Through a reaction which can be explained psychologically, many Roman Catholic adherents (and ecclesiastics) have certain reservations concerning many doctrinal and disciplinary points dictated by their Church, but dare not break with her since they cannot imagine that the true Church of Jesus Christ can exist elsewhere as, in their eyes, the Orthodox and Protestant Churches are nothing but a collection of branches torn from the one true Church.

3. Let us come now to the third idea which obsessed my mind: "Shall I be lost?" I asked myself. The Evangelical Churches tell me that if I truly believe in Jesus and sincerely repent of my sins, entering on a new life in the service of the Lord, I am saved (see Acts 16:31; 2:38; Ephes. 2:8-10, etc.); I am born again (John 1:12; 3:3). But the Church of Rome tells me that, beside this, I must be a member of the Roman Catholic organisation and a loyal subject of the Roman Pontiff. "What shall I do?" I continued. "Will not the second way be safer?"

In accepting this idea, I forgot yet another elementary principle of the Gospel: that we are not saved by belonging to a particular church, but we belong to the true Church by the very fact of being saved. We must examine carefully, beside those already quoted, the key passages in the New Testament (Mt. 3:2; Mark 1:15; John 20:31; Acts 4:12; Rom. 1:5,16; 3:24,25; 1 Cor. 1:21; 4:1; 2 Cor. 5:20,21; Col. 2:8-14, and many others) and we see that it is never stipulated as an indispensable condition of salvation that we belong to a particular external organisation (affiliation to the invisible Church is automatic for the believer and to prescribe this would be superfluous).

Nevertheless I told myself: "Not everyone that saith unto me, Lord, Lord, shall enter the kingdom of heaven; but he that doeth the will of my Father which is in heaven"

(Mt. 7:21). And will not one of the commandments of God be that we should try to find the true Church? And this can only be found in an external organisation, since the congregation of the saved must be seen externally, being not merely spirits but human people having bodies and souls.

Then I forgot another fact, Biblical as well as historical. The primitive Church of the New Testament, the origin and model of the whole Christian Church throughout the centuries, was not a uniform organisation under the jurisdiction of a single Papal Head, but a collection of separate local churches united by the same evangelical faith and the same Christian love (`agápe' in the original Greek of the New Testament), within a truly catholic intercommunion, manifested in the kiss of peace, the giving of the right hands of fellowship (Gal. 2:9) or admission to the Lord's Table, but with complete autonomy in pastoral exercise and the maintenance of discipline.

Certainly we must seek an authentic church to give praise, testimony, and service to God together, but the norm in this search is not the claim of a universal organisation to the exclusive right to salvation but rather, in the words of article 19 of the Church of England:

"The visible Church of Christ is a congregation of faithful men, in the which the pure Word of God is preached, and the Sacraments be duly ministered according to Christ's ordinance in all those things that of necessity are requisite to the same".

Are these characteristics inherent in the Church of Rome? Decidedly not. She does not preach the pure Gospel; she does not administer duly the Sacraments ordained by Jesus Christ. To show this in detail would make this account of my experience too lengthy. I will do so in the book already mentioned.

4. Finally, the fourth idea which obsessed me was the vain hope that the Church of Rome could be reformed "from within" and that I could participate in this reform, holding strongly to the main principles of the Reformation (as I always did even in the past three years of my crisis), whilst still belonging to what I believed was the "one visible Church of Christ". I hoped that, finally, the Church of Rome would admit such an evangelical principle as, for instance, justification by faith alone, and I said to myself: "If we could find together visible unity and pure orthodoxy, it would be the best". The reservations on this point put to me by such well-informed people as Dr. Lloyd-Jones and Don Samuel Vila did not suffice to convince me otherwise.

I have just said that the Romanist Church is not endowed with the characteristics of the true Church of Christ; much less so the "sole right" of such a Church. In this, the basis of my obsession was false.

Moreover, my hope of reforming the Church of Rome "from within" was false.

At the time of writing this, I am preparing a recension of the already well-known Dutch Roman Catholic "New Catechism".

It is well known that Dutch Roman Catholic theologians are generally considered the most advanced in all the Church of Rome (I would say: the most modernistic). Yet despite all their progressiveness and modernism, through the abovementioned book can be seen their enthusiastic and unconditional adhesion to the Roman Catholic doctrines which are most in conflict with the Reformation and which render the barrier impassable: these are the papal and marian dogmas.

This shows once more that the Church of Rome cannot be reformed fundamentally without a true miracle since, by its own definition, it cannot change or deny its solemnly defined dogmas. Paul VI gave this warning in his inaugural speech at the second session of the Second Vatican Council:

"Yes, the Council aims at renewal. Note well, however, that in saying and desiring that, we do not imply that the Catholic Church of today can be accused of substantial infidelity to the mind of her Divine founder. Rather it is the deeper realisation of her substantial faithfulness that fills her with gratitude and humility and inspires her with the courage to correct those imperfections which are inherent in human weakness.

"The reform at which the Council aims is not, therefore, a turning upside down of the Church's present way of life or a breaking with what is essential and worthy of veneration in her tradition, but it is rather an honouring of tradition by stripping it of what is unworthy or defective so that it may be rendered firm and fruitful".

Even in secondary or tangential matters, any change in teaching or discipline will inevitably be accompanied, in the official document of the Church, by the well-known ambiguous formula: "As the Holy Mother Church has always taught . . . ."

Will the day soon come when the most outspoken, sincere and nobly progressive of the Hierarchy and theologians of the Church of Rome will break valiantly, as a whole or in groups, with the strong ties of "dogma" and the idea that their Church, despite all its defects, is the only earthly instrument of salvation? I doubt it, but God will have the last word.

Only by the means of preaching, testimony, and prayer can we endeavour to bring its adherents out of the Church of Rome one by one.

On the other hand, the great majority of those counted among the adherents to Rome are only nominally so, since in their convictions and their lives there is neither Catholicism nor Christianity of any kind. This is due largely to the fact that, in the majority of such cases, they have listened only to authoritarian prohibitions and have witnessed only manifest injustices. Of the "Gospel" which is essentially the "bringing of good tidings" of the saving love of God to men in Christ and of the generous and complete pardon of all sins to every believing, contrite, and humble heart, they have heard nothing, or almost nothing. The little good which was done by the last generation and that now being done by the "new wave" of Roman clergy is but scanty and imperfect.

I come now to the factors which brought my spiritual crisis to its climax at the beginning of 1964.

No doubt the grey climate of England and the idiosyncrasy of the Anglo-Saxons contributed to some extent to my state of depression, but I cannot but mention the extreme friendliness with which I was welcomed everywhere during my travels throughout the length and breadth of the British Isles, and that the courtesy, politeness, consideration, seriousness and sense of responsibility of the English were winning me over, while the diet in my English home suited me marvellously.

It is a curious fact that although I was unable to get acclimatised physically and psychically to the English land and character, I have to admit that on returning to Spain I immediately began to miss many English qualities, particularly the discretion and respect for the personal privacy of others. Naturally, as a Spaniard, I admit that at times I would give a lot to see in English people a little gay spontaneity and noisy familiarity which perhaps are the fruits of the sunshine of my homeland.

At the end of 1963 and beginning of 1964 my crisis reached its climax. The spiritual tension was becoming more acute every moment.

Our great mystic Juan de la Cruz spoke in a remarkable manner of "the dark night of the spirit". Only those who have passed through such an experience can fully understand it. For my part, I cannot imagine a more terrible spiritual condition. Month after month passed in the deepest darkness without my knowing which road to take, yet feeling acutely the urgent need to take one or the other, since I believed my eternal salvation was at stake.

The exhortations of my family and friends were quite unable to bring me out of myself and make me think of helping others, since I was obsessed by the thought that I could do nothing useful while unable to put my own house in order.

I can truthfully say that I lived in constant prayer--anguished, almost despairing prayer.

There is a proverb in Castilian which says: "If you want to know what it is to pray, you must pass through deep waters". Indeed, it is said that when a person finds himself on the high seas, in the midst of a tempest that tosses the boat around like a nutshell, when the surface of the ocean convulses, suddenly producing now threatening mountains, now dark abysses which seem on the point of swallowing up the boat in their giant mouths, this is when the soul of man feels truly humbled, grows faint and despairs of any help but that of the Omnipotent Creator, who alone can calm the tempest and silence the fury of the boisterous waves. This is when man sees imperatively, urgently, despairingly, the need to pray.

As if in the midst of such a tempest, I too prayed with anguish; but I lacked perseverance and was afraid to confide my doubts to relatives and friends. Only my wife realised that something strange was happening within me, due, no doubt, to excessive mental work; but she did not understand the depth of my crisis.

Shortly before going to Spain, I explained my situation briefly to Dr. M. Lloyd-Jones, but I made the mistake of not following his advice to rest completely for a month. My obsessive idea was stronger than any advice.

This feeling of being in darkness with respect to my spiritual condition was combined with what psychiatrists call a "guilt complex".

In a person who has left the Church of Rome, which claims the title of only Mediator of Salvation, and particularly in a person, who, like myself, has for many years been in the Roman priesthood, such a guilt complex frequently takes the form of "the lost sheep" or "the Prodigal Son". This feeling was all the stronger in my case, because the text which I had selected from the three offered to me for the homily in the competition for the position of Magister Canon of Tarazona in 1949 was chapter 15 of the Gospel according to St. Luke, which contains the three parables of the lost coin, the lost sheep, and the prodigal son.

The only way out which occurred to my disturbed mind was to flee from my home in England, back to my own country to ask for readmission to the so-called "only fold" and to the family of the "Father of the Prodigal Son". With this decision, I left my wife and other English relatives in the utmost confusion and distress concerning my whereabouts.

As my family and friends in England were sure of my Evangelical convictions, they could not believe that I had left of my own accord and I understand that they feared some accident had occurred, that I had been kidnapped, drugged or even killed.

In all this, my wife and her family, who were the most affected by my mad decision, hid their distress and preoccupation in silence and prayer.

Many prayer meetings were arranged in various parts of the British Isles to entreat the Lord to come to my aid. I can never be grateful enough for this proof of Christian charity. Thank you, my friends. In the end, God answered your prayers.

Meanwhile, other people and several publications, misled by the first confusing news, hastily put forward a public explanation of the facts, which did not tally to the slightest degree with the truth.

Seen from a different angle, I must also thank those who had such a high opinion of me that they could not doubt my fidelity to the Gospel and therefore had to work out some other explanation. It is only human nature, even in believers, to be fallible and imperfect. The Word of God assures us that we are liable to error and spiritual backsliding. If we were more firmly anchored to the One Who is great in His faithfulness (Lam. 3:22-24), the vicissitudes of life and the failures of others would not have such power to disturb our minds.

Blessed be God, Who allowed my soul to pass through such great tribulation, that I might be purified, refined, and brought to a deeper knowledge of His Word, of my wretchedness and the weakness of human nature itself!

In effect, as was stated by a great Baptist preacher, tribulation is always the fruit of a conflict with sin. The contrast between the holy ways of God and the erring ways of sinful man, the conflict between the leading of the Holy Spirit and the lack of complete surrender on our part to the action of the Spirit, this is what brings about such disorder in our thoughts, feelings, and personal wishes and makes us suffer deeply and creak like an un-oiled hinge. The cross which weighs on us will cease to be heavy and even to be a cross at all as soon as the horizontal pale of our will ceases to cross the vertical pale of the will of God.

So I learnt that my tribulation was the fruit of a conflict with my misery and an instrument of purification in the hands of God for my good.

Moreover, all this trouble has helped me to understand more fully the weakness of human nature and to teach me to understand all men. Now I can sympathise with all, and not be confused by anything. I can understand without difficulty the doubts, anxieties, and even the desperation of my fellow-men. How much we lack such comprehension! As he so often did, Augustine of Hipona came straight to the root of the matter in a few words, concise and to the point, when he said:

"Every man is capable of the same misdeeds as any other man, if He Who created man cease to uphold him".

With greater authority, Jesus gave us this wise standard in the Gospel:

"Judge not, that ye be not judged.

"For with what judgement ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again" (Matt. 7:1,2).

St. Paul also shows us the positive value of Christian charity, the basis and summit of our spiritual life, in four expressive verbs, arranged in wonderful gradation:

"Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things" (1 Cor. 13:7).

"Beareth all things"; that is, charity is never offended by another person's failings; "believeth all things"--instinctively tends to see the good side of the words and conduct of our neighbours; "hopeth all things": when error or sin are in evidence, charity makes us trust in the grace of God, which will have the last word concerning salvation. And when no reason to hope seems to remain, charity "endureth all things", carrying on the struggle undismayed in positive, active perseverance in order to make the best of the present situation for the benefit of its neighbour. Quite a full programme!

Escape from the Desert

HAVING explained the causes and circumstances of my spiritual crisis, I will now relate the only true version of the facts which preceded, accompanied and followed my decision to return to Spain.

By the time my crisis had reached its climax, I had been put into contact with a Spanish Jesuit who was finishing his studies in astro-physics in London.

No discussion took place between us in respect of my theological doubts. When we first met I realised that his Biblical knowledge was far too limited to embark on a fruitful conversation. Neither was this his intention! He confined himself to recommending, insisting and persuading me to go away to some secluded place, such as that occupied by Jesuits in a Catalan town, in order to meditate in peace on the subject of my doubts.

When the day came on which I had decided to leave, he accompanied me to, the offices of Iberia in London and from there to the airport, where he said goodbye. He also undertook to arrange for someone to telephone my wife that same night, 9th March, 1964. It is understandable that statements coming from that source to the Press concerning my conduct should have held some air of triumph, caused by the idea of helping in the return of a lost sheep to the true fold.

I would repeat that I suffered no violence whatsoever throughout the entire period of my crisis and recovery. I was neither kidnapped, drugged nor anything else of a similar kind. Only my confused state of mind was responsible for my strange conduct.

Many readers will now wonder, as indeed I have already been asked, how I could think of abandoning my wife and returning to Spain in order to try to resolve my spiritual crisis away from my home.

To this I must reply that, in consequence of my confusion in thinking that the Church of Rome was the one true Church of Christ (through keeping intact her external unity and a teaching authority to interpret the Word of God), my disturbed mind made me feel it necessary to leave my wife, since in the eyes of the Church of Rome my marriage was not valid because of the vow of chastity which I took at my ordination as sub-deacon. As for requesting from Rome the necessary dispensation to regularise my position with the Church of Rome, both my vow of chastity and the canonical impediment of a marriage of so-called "mixed religion" prevented my considering it, since I was blinded by the idea that my vocation still called me to take up the ministry once again. This is why Dr. Lloyd-Jones' advice in reply to my letter of mid-March, 1964, did not make any impression on me. He said, "but I feel constrained to point out that the factor in your situation which must come first is that you are a married man".

My first impression in coming once more into contact with the liturgical services of the Church of Rome in Spain was one of deepest disappointment. After hearing, in England, so many truly Evangelical sermons, well prepared, true outpourings of the Word of God to man, penetrating deep into the heart of the hearer for his salvation, the preaching I heard in cathedrals and churches in Spain seemed to me quite deplorable: "wood, hay, stubble …" (1 Cor. 3:12). I shall never forget the uncomfortable feelings I had when I was in a central church in Madrid, which was filled to overflowing with worshippers, during a late Sunday Mass. After the reading of the Gospel, the priest, celebrating Mass turned to the congregation and hurriedly stammered out such a string of vain, empty remarks, showing his lack of interest and preparation, that it made me feel quite ill. The only good point about his sermon was that it lasted no more than five minutes at the most, not even long enough to fulfil the diocesan standards on preaching with regard to the duration of sermons.

At this point I cannot but examine myself publicly and accuse myself too, of wasting much time in my sermons, throughout so many years of preaching in the Cathedral, on arguments and phrases calculated to arouse the attention and please the ear rather than to go direct, with the two-edged sword of the Word of God, deep into the human heart to the saving of the soul. I always tried to say things which would be beneficial, but only on very few occasions did my preaching prove to be of any practical use.

If any Protestant minister, or (with much more reason), a Roman Catholic priest, should read this, I beg him, in the Name of Jesus Christ and of the precious Blood of the Saviour, shed at Calvary for the salvation of man, to think of his responsibility as a herald of the Gospel message and leave out all "profane and vain babblings and oppositions of science falsely so called" (1 Tim. 6:20) and panegyrics, novenaries, etc., and dedicate his time and oratorical gifts to proclaiming with a loud voice what have always been called "eternal truths": salvation, sin, repentance, Calvary, the urgent need of conversion, etc. Who would not tremble on hearing the Lord's threat through the prophet Ezekiel?

"Son of man, I have made thee a watchman unto the house of Israel: therefore hear the word of My mouth, and give them warning from Me. When I say unto the wicked, Thou shalt surely die; and thou givest him not warning, nor speakest to warn the wicked from his wicked way, to save his life; the same wicked man shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I require at thine hand.

"Yet if thou warn the wicked, and he turn not from his wickedness, nor from his wicked way, he shall die in his iniquity; but thou hast delivered thy soul.

"Again, when a righteous man doth turn from his righteousness and commit iniquity, and I lay a stumblingblock before him (that is, and he abuse My gifts making them an occasion for sin), he shall die: because thou hast not given him warning, he shall die in his sin, and his righteousness which he hath done shall not be remembered; but his blood will I require at thine hand.

"Nevertheless if thou warn the righteous man, that the righteous sin not, and he doth not sin, he shall surely live, because he is warned; also thou hast delivered thy soul" (Ezek. 3:17-21).

From the place where I was staying in Cataluña, I wrote to my wife and to the "Sentinels' Union" at Saltdean (Brighton), where I had worked during my stay in England, telling them of my whereabouts and the reasons for my flight as they then appeared to me.

My wife, accompanied by an English friend who speaks perfect Spanish, at once came to find me.

In the course of the days which we spent together, my doubts seemed to be dispersing, but the severe admonitions of one of the Jesuits made such an impression on my weakened mind and caused me such grave spiritual concern that when my wife left, several days later, to make arrangements to move permanently to Spain so that we could live in Tarrasa (where I had already rented a flat), I wrote to her again asking her not to come and reiterating my decision to re-enter the Church of Rome and ask for rehabilitation in the ministry. I also left a note at the house of the friends with whom I was staying and went back to the Jesuit residence already referred to, in South Cataluña.

My wife later told me that on receiving my letter she returned by the first 'plane that day on which there was a free seat, to C