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One Thing You Can't Do In Heaven One Thing You Can't Do In Heaven

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  • Author: Mark Cahill
  • Size: 1.62MB | 220 pages
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About the Book


"One Thing You Can't Do in Heaven" by Mark Cahill is a Christian non-fiction book that challenges readers to consider their beliefs about eternity and the afterlife. The author argues that there is one crucial thing individuals cannot do in heaven, and that is to share the gospel and lead others to Christ. Through personal stories and practical advice, Cahill encourages readers to actively engage in evangelism and fulfill their purpose on earth before it's too late.

William Wilberforce

William Wilberforce William Wilberforce was born in 1759 in Hull, East Yorkshire. He graduated from Cambridge University with the intention of following a political career, and became Member of Parliament (MP) for Hull in 1780, aged 21. Four years later he became MP for the whole of Yorkshire. It was at this time that he began to work for the abolition of the British trade in enslaved people. Wilberforce was a deeply spiritual man and later became an Evangelical Christian. He was a popular figure and was known to be charming and witty and a great public speaker. He campaigned for a number of causes: for legislation to improve the lives of the poor, education reform, prison reforms and ending child labour. He was also one of the founders of the Royal Society of the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA). A Committed Abolitionist With the backing of his friend William Pitt, who became Prime Minister, Wilberforce became leader of The Society for the Abolition of Slavery. The society campaigned for almost 20 years to bring an end to British involvement in the Transatlantic Slave Trade. The abolition campaign made them many enemies, especially among those who had made huge profits from the trade in enlsaved African people. Wilberforce left Hull in 1792 and moved to Clapham, London to be closer to his work in Westminster. Within the local community he found friends who shared his interests in religion and politics. They became known as the Clapham Sect and they actively supported the anti-slavery abolitionists. William Wilberforce, oil painting by Karl Anton Hickel, 1793 . Willima has a white scarf tied at his neck and wearing a dark blue coat with a folded collar. William Wilberforce by Karl Anton Hickel, 1793 Wilberforce married Barbara Spooner in 1797 and they had six children. Historical acounts show that he was a loving and devoted husband and father, and was proud that three of his sons became clergyman. The Slavery Abolition Bill Wilberforce attempted several times to bring private members' bills before Parliament to end Britain’s involvement in the slave trade, but the Bill was defeated many times. It was finally passed on 25 March, 1807. However, this only went as far as banning British people from engaging in the slave trade, it did not ban slavery itself. Wilberforce retired from politics in 1825 due to ill health, but he continued to campaign for the abolition of slavery. Finally, on 26 July 1833, as Wilberforce lay on his deathbed, he was told that the Slavery Abolition Bill, granting freedom to all enslaved people within the British Empire, had been passed by Parliament. He died three days later. As a mark of respect for his achievements, his body was buried in Westminster Abbey. Childhood and Education William Wilberforce was born on 24 August, 1759, at 25 High Street, Hull (which is now known as Wilberforce House) to Robert and Elizabeth Wilberforce. He had three sisters, Elizabeth, Ann and Sarah (known as Sally). Of the four children, only William and Sally survived to adulthood. The Wilberforce family were successful merchants, who traded in imported goods, like wood and cloth, from northern Europe and the Baltic states. The family home reflected the family's wealth and was decorated with fashionable architecture of the day. William was a small, sickly child with poor eyesight, but this did not stop him from attending Hull Grammar School or taking part in musical activities or sports. William was known to have a beautiful singing voice and had a reputation for telling funny stories and playing practical jokes. When William was only eight years old, his father died. William's mother then became ill and so she sent him to live with his aunt and uncle, Hannah and William Wilberforce, in London. They sent him to study at a small boarding school in Putney, which he disliked, complaining about the food. Hannah and William were Evangelical Methodists and they took William to church regularly, where he enjoyed listening to bible stories and sermons by prominent figures within the Methodist movement. William's mother worried about his exposure to such a strong religious influence and arranged for him to come home to Hull. William was sent to board at Pocklington Grammar School, where he studied hard and did well at Latin, English and History. Aged 17 he went to Cambridge University, where he met William Pitt the Younger, who became a lifelong friend. Wilberforce took full advantage of the social life on offer at university, and was well known for attending dinners, gambling, and playing cards. Despite his busy social life, Wilberforce managed to graduate from Cambridge in 1781, determined to have a career as a Member of Parliament. Religious Beliefs and Influences William Wilberforce became a deeply religious man who dedicated his life and his work to acting on his beliefs. He had many religious and political influences during his lifetime. His mother was staunchly Church of England. However, after the death of his father, William spent two years living with his aunt and uncle in London, who were keen Methodists. They took the young William to church regularly, where he heard important figures like George Whitefield preach. At that time, Methodism was known as a branch within the Church of England that was particularly concerned with social welfare. However, his mother became alarmed at his growing interest in evangelical Christianity, and she brought the young William home again. Wilberforce's second major religious influence was Isaac Milner, who was a young teacher when Wilberforce attended Hull Grammar School. They were to become lifelong friends and in 1784 they travelled together through Europe. During the months they spent together, Milner introduced William to his own religious beliefs and encouraged him to read an essay entitled 'The Rise and Progress of Religion in the Soul'. The whole experience had a profound affect on William and he returned home to England a changed man and devout Methodist. Another influence on William was John Newton, his Aunt Hannah’s half-brother who had previously been involved in the slave trade. Newton was one of the wealthiest men in Europe and a great humanitarian and philanthropist, and gave many gifts to the Evangelical church. Following William's tour of Europe with Milner, he met up with John Newton to discuss his new-found faith. William wrote in secret to Newton: Sir, there is no need of apology for intruding on you, when the errand is religion. I wish to have some serious conversation with you… the earlier the more agreeable to me. I have ten thousand doubts within myself, whether or not I should discover myself to you; but every argument against doing it has its foundation in pride. I am sure you will hold yourself bound to let no one living know of this application, or of my visit, till I release you for the obligation… P.S. Remember that I must be secret, and that the gallery of the House is now so universally attended, that the face of a member of Parliament is pretty well known. William stuck with his conversion to Methodism and wrote a best-selling book A Practical View of Christianity thirteen years later. Early Political Life and Influences After graduating from Cambridge University, William Wilberforce chose to follow a career in politics and stood as Independent candidate, in an election for Hull's Member of Parliament. He won by an overwhelming majority and was elected to represent the citizens of Hull, at the age of just 21. The young Wilberforce was a natural politician. Following the deaths of his father and his uncle he had inherited enough money to financially support his political career. He was also well liked among Hull's merchant families, who hoped that he would represent their business interests in parliament. Two of Wilberforce's most appealing qualities were his engaging personality and his eloquent speaking voice - useful traits for a politician. He was so famous for his public speaking that he was nicknamed the 'Nightingale of the Commons'. On taking up his seat in the House of Commons, Wilberforce met up with his university friend, William Pitt the Younger, who had also chosen a political career. Pitt and Wilberforce spent much time studying the more experienced Members of Parliament from the Commons gallery, and listening to heated political debates of the day. Pitt enjoyed a very sucessful political career, becoming Prime Minister and the new Tory party leader in 1783, aged just 24. Although not quite as ambitious as Pitt, Wilberforce took the decision to stand as candidate for Member of Parliament for Yorkshire. This was one of only two county seats and on winning it, Wilberforce became a more influential politician. Following his conversion to Methodism in 1785, Wilberforce considered leaving politics. Yet, Pitt and John Newton convinced him to persevere and use his political work as a way of serving God. Wilberforce saw the campaign to abolish the Transatlantic Slave Trade as a way of following his religious and humanitarian beliefs, as well as his moral conscience.

you are not that special - the glory of ordinary christianity

I had a professor in seminary who had a knack for humbling first-year students. He enjoyed showing them they weren’t special, no matter what their Sunday school teachers and home churches had told them. In fact, this professor was so effective at humbling new seminarians, he developed a reputation for it. He was provocative and polarizing. He had his detractors around campus, and beyond. To some, he seemed cocky and headstrong. But others loved him dearly. Not because he walked the fine line between arrogance and purposeful provocation, but because they themselves had been wonderfully awakened. First they had been humbled by his jabs, and it hurt. It was disorienting. But as much as it smarted at first, they came to humble themselves and receive the uncomfortable truth. The professor’s shocking words proved to be the wounds of a friend. He was right. They weren’t that special — not in the ways that seminary students (and most humans) tend to think they are. You Are (Not) Special For many of us, one of the earliest messages we heard, the constant refrain of children’s books, the chorus of our parents (and especially grandparents), and likely even the message we heard in Sunday school, was essentially  you are special . There’s an element of truth in it, of course. You are indeed special — as human, and especially as redeemed — in ways that redound to the glory of God. In relation to the animal kingdom, God made our human race special,  in his own image . Even the angels marvel at the grace we’ve received in Christ (1 Peter 1:12). And in Christ, no doubt, you are  special  to God — through being chosen before the foundation of the world, and then particularly redeemed by the sacrifice of Christ two millennia before you were born. And then you are three times special by the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit. Jesus died for his friends (John 15:13), his sheep (John 10:14–15), his bride (Ephesians 5:25). He loved the church with his special love and gave himself up for her. “God, being rich in mercy, because of the  great love  with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ” (Ephesians 2:4–5). In Christ, you are not just loved but greatly so. And on the human level, children are indeed special to their own parents and grandparents. We grant that. It’s in God’s good design. Also, it’s worth acknowledging that a group of self-doubting humans and saints have a difficult time believing they are special in ways that really matter. They’ve been so beaten down by life in this world – or perhaps they’ve simply found low self-esteem to be a convenient excuse for coddling sin. To be human, and alive, is amazing. To be called a child of the living God by being joined to his Son, by faith alone, is scandalous. Chosen  by God  before you even did anything good or bad! What wondrous love is this? But oh, how prone we can be, like first-year seminarians, to let such specialness go to our heads — to transpose it into ways that serve the flesh rather than the Spirit. Not That Special When sinners contemplate their own specialness, we don’t typically think about our relation to animals or angels, or what it means to be in Christ, or our particular specialness to family and friends. Rather, we often think we’re special  compared to others  — because of our qualities. Our gifts. Our achievements. Our abilities. Bells that ring to our own glory. This is where we need to hear a clear, and sometimes forceful, voice say, in love,  You are not that special . You are not an exception to the basic laws and ordinances of human society, and as a Christian, you are not an exception to the ordinary means and patterns of the Christian life. You are not a cut above the rank-and-file in the world, and especially in the church. You are not exceptional in the ways you like to tell yourself in silence. You are not special in the sense that ordinary, everyday, normal Christianity is no longer essential to you because of your qualities.  You are not that special . You don’t have a special path to heaven or a special route through the toils and snares of this world. Just consider Jesus. He is indeed the Father’s  special  Son. If anyone could plead special privilege, it would be the divine Son. And yet. And yet! He did not cling to his equality with God as a self-serving privilege or ask to be excused from the mission. He did not request a pass from poverty, suffering, or even torture. He became “obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:6–8). Do we claim to be his disciples, yet presume ourselves to be greater than our Master? Inconvenient Specialness How might we discern whether we are appropriating  specialness  in the right places and ways? One test would be whether we tell ourselves we’re special in ways that are easy and convenient for the flesh. Do I presume I’ll get my way because I’m special? Should others follow my lead, without my earning their trust, because I’m special? Another way at it might be this: Do I love the specialness of humanity, and being Christ’s, only when it applies to me, but not when it applies to those I find most difficult to endure? Which gets at what may be one of the greatest indicators of humility: how we view the church. Not the big, universal, capital-C Church — the one that is often much easier to love. But  your  church. The local church where God has placed you. The people God has picked to appear, and reappear, and reappear again, in your real-life story. Those faces. That church. With all the warts and frustrations and inconveniences you’re increasingly aware of. When you ponder the flesh-and-blood Christians you know, and worship with weekly, and share the Table with, do you think of yourself as special  in distinction  to them? Or are you special  with  them? Really Belong to His Body Local churches are wonderfully humbling collectives. And one of the chief ways God roughs up our souls, and keeps them in shape, and prepares them to welcome his humbling hand when it descends — and often brings the very conflicts that are his humbling work — is through really belonging to a particular, imperfect local body of fellow believers. Really belong. Really join. As a fellow sheep. (Pastors too. Humble ones think of themselves first and foremost as sheep, not shepherds. They rejoice not that the demons are subject to them in great acts of ministry, but that their names are written in heaven, Luke 10:20.) Among other blessings, one gift that the messy, often difficult life of the local church offers us, if we will let it, is the regular reminder that we’re not that special, not in whatever twisted ways we like to tell ourselves. We are indeed special to God  with these people , but not in comparison with them. And what the down-to-earth life of the local church reminds us is how good it can be to be normal, and to remember, for our good, that no Christian is exempt from normal Christianity: from repentance, from trust in Christ alone for forgiveness, from the moment-by-moment help of his Spirit, from saturating our lives in the word of God, from daily availing ourselves of his ear in prayer, and from genuinely belonging to his body in a local church. Good to Be Normal Brothers and sisters, let’s rehearse for ourselves, as much as we need it, that we are indeed special, and at the same time not  that  special, not in ways convenient to our flesh. And let’s celebrate that together with Jesus’s church, we are indeed special. You are special —  you  plural. Jesus loved the church and gave himself up for her. He laid down his life for this sheep. Through faith in Jesus, we are joined to him, and not alone. And in him we also are joined to his people, his bride, his flock. He has loved  us  (plural) with his special, electing, and effective love. We glory in this specialness, and die to sin’s temptation to think of ourselves as special in ways that swell our hearts with conceit.

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