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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 and Catherine Booth
William Booth
The Salvation Army founder, William Booth was born in Nottingham, England, on 10 April 1829.
Salvation Army founder General William BoothFrom his earliest years, William was no stranger to poverty. He was just 14 when his father died and was already working as a pawnbroker’s apprentice to supplement the family’s income.
As a pawnbroker, William saw poverty and suffering on a daily basis. By the time he finished his six-year apprenticeship, he had developed a deep hatred of it.
William, a fiery and impulsive teenager, became a Christian at 15 and began attending the local Wesleyan Chapel. There, he developed the passion that would be the driving force in his life; to reach the down and out of Britain's cities through the Gospel of Christ.
William, a talented preacher from a young age, went on to work as a travelling evangelist with the Methodist church. But it was through preaching in the streets of London's slums that he discovered his life's purpose and The Salvation Army was born.
Catherine Booth
The Salvation Army "mother", Catherine Mumford was born in Ashbourne, Derbyshire, on 17 January 1829.
The Salvation Army founder and Army mother Catherine BoothFrom an early age, she was a serious and sensitive girl with a strong Christian upbringing. By the age of 12, it's said that she had read the Bible through eight times.
At 14, Catherine became ill and spent a great deal of time in bed. She kept herself busy, especially concerned about the problems of alcohol. She wrote articles for a magazine, encouraging people not to drink.
But at 16, she came wholly into her faith. Reading the words, 'My God I am Thine, what a comfort Divine' in her hymn book, she realised the truth of them for herself.
A gentle woman with powerful appeal, Catherine would go on to co-found The Salvation Army and prove an inspiration to women in a harsh time.
Life together
Catherine and William met when he came to preach at her church. They soon fell in love and became engaged. During their three-year engagement, William continued his work as a travelling evangelist. Catherine was a constant support to William, writing him letters of encouragement on his travels.
They married on 16 June 1855.
Together, William and Catherine embarked on a lifelong journey to answer the call of God to bring the Gospel to the people. While William was a natural speaker, Catherine was a quiet woman and not at all accustomed to speaking at gatherings. It took time for her to find her voice, but she was driven by a conviction that woman had the same rights as men to speak. She grew into a courageous speaker, known for her gentle manner but powerful appeal, counselling alcoholics in their homes and holding cottage meetings for new faithfuls.
They were also parents to a growing family of eight children, who were brought up with a firm Christian education and a great love for their God’s mission. Two of their children, Bramwell and Evangeline would go on to be Generals of The Salvation Army.
In 1865, William, by now an independent evangelist, along with Catherine founded The Christian Mission. William preached to the poor while Catherine spoke to the wealthy to gain support for their financially demanding work. In time, she began to hold her own fundraising campaigns.
It was not until 1878 that The Christian Mission became known as The Salvation Army. Modelled after the military with William and his fellow ministers a part of God’s Army, seeking salvation for the masses. William was appointed the first General and his ministers became “officers”.
Catherine became known as “The Army Mother” and remained a strong voice on The Salvation Army’s ideas on social issues and matters of belief.
With its strong focus on the downtrodden and dispossessed, The Salvation Army began to grow beyond Britain’s borders. In William’s lifetime, the Army would be established in 58 countries and colonies. Its mission was and is still guided by William’s book “In Darkest England and the Way Out”, which maps out a revoluntionary approach to social engagement never before undertaken by a church.
Both Catherine and William worked tirelessly to bring the Gospel to all, establishing a movement in the form of The Salvation Army. But, on 4th October 1890, Catherine lost her ongoing battle with ill health. Her son, Bramwell, described her passing as “a warrior laid down her sword to receive her crown”.
William continued on for many years, traveling all over the world to oversee his growing Army. On 20th August 1912, William Booth was, in Salvation Army terms, promoted to glory.
Though passed, both William and Catherine continue to be guiding influences in The Salvation Army and stand as the mightiest examples of how God uses the ordinary to create the extraordinary.
If God Approves, Let Men Condemn
It may appear, at first glance, to be an odd text to hang in your bedroom: Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you. (Matthew 5:11–12 KJV) Whereas others might draw from a thousand wells before this one, Susannah Spurgeon framed Jesus’s words to remind her husband, Charles, of Jesus’s upside-down perspective. When his disciples face bitter opposition for his name’s sake, the proper response should be joy. “Spurgeon was slandered in the newspapers, ridiculed by his opponents, and censured by many evangelical ministers.” When we consider this Baptist giant, when we read his stirring sermons, when we remember that his life’s work rivaled that of one hundred men, when we read of the revival and the winning of countless souls to Christ, we can imagine the Prince of Preachers encountering little but unbroken success. Compared with so many of our ministries, his seemed to soar high in the clouds. We rarely consider, as Iain Murray contends, The Forgotten Spurgeon — the Spurgeon who needed Matthew 5:11–12 hanging on his wall. Forgotten Prince The forgotten Spurgeon stood among the tornadoes of several great controversies in his day. His protestation against Arminianism, his disgust at baptismal regeneration, and his resistance to an evangelical unity founded upon fragments of Christian doctrine (known as the Downgrade Controversy) made him the target for many arrows. This Spurgeon, especially at the beginning and end of his ministry, had reason to reckon himself as “the scum of the earth” (24–25). The name Spurgeon, which we regard fondly, was, by estimation of its owner, “kicked about the street like a football” (28). He had occasion to remark in a sermon, “Scarce a day rolls over my head in which the most villainous abuse, the most fearful slander is not uttered against me both privately and by the public press; every engine is employed to put down God’s minister — every lie that man can invent is hurled at me” (63). This Spurgeon was slandered in the newspapers, ridiculed by his opponents, and censured by many evangelical ministers who he anticipated would be his allies. This Spurgeon was a living example of the happy — but often hated — man of God to whom Jesus spoke in the Sermon on the Mount. Fleeing Compromise What can we learn from this forgotten Spurgeon? This Spurgeon can teach us to handle controversy manfully and without compromising. His convictions, which he held to his dying day, cost him dearly. He did not practice that vice he so clearly preached against: “I think there is scarcely a Christian man or woman that has been able to go all the way to heaven and yet quietly hide himself and run from bush to bush, skulking into glory. Christianity and cowardice? What a contradiction in terms!” (“Speak for Yourself — a Challenge”). If we would cast away the temptation to tiptoe into glory, and be of real benefit for Christ’s name in this world, Spurgeon teaches us that we would do well to resist loving our own names, be comfortable in the minority, and recognize (and reject) false unity. 1. Don’t fall in love with your own name. “Let my name perish, but let Christ’s name last forever! Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Crown him Lord of all!” (43) Spurgeon warns us of falling in love with our own reputations and influence. This self-love, he identified, is a main ingredient in the undoing of the best of us. He exposes the steps to compromise of the person initially used by God: The temptation comes to be careful of the position he has gained, and to do nothing to endanger it. The man, so lately a faithful man of God, compromises with worldlings, and to quiet his own conscience invents a theory by which such compromises are justified and even commended. He receives the praises of “the judicious”; he has, in truth, gone over to the enemy. The whole force of his former life now tells upon the wrong side. (170) How many times have we seen or experienced this drift? First, we are somehow exalted for special use. Then we quietly begin to notice it and relish the attention. Falling in love with recognition, we tighten our grip around our platforms in fear of losing them. We then calculate what we say, filtering out anything that may weaken our influence — including the unfavorable truths of Scripture. And finally, faced with the thing we used to call compromise, we invent reasons to support what we’ve become — why we’ve beaten the sword into a plowshare. “When we begin sharing truth based on how well that truth will be received, we are halfway to compromise.” Fierce loves fixed on unworthy objects mold Christians into cowards. If we have begun to love the music of our own name, manage our brand, or consider our popularity as necessary to the advancement of Christ’s kingdom, we have begun building our own kingdoms. May we say with Spurgeon, “I count my own character, popularity, and usefulness to be as the small dust of the balance compared with fidelity to the Lord Jesus” (219). It is Christ we proclaim, not ourselves (2 Corinthians 4:5). 2. Be comfortable in the minority. “Long ago I ceased to count heads. Truth is usually in the minority in this evil world. I have faith in the Lord Jesus for myself, a faith burned into me as with a hot iron. I thank God, what I believe I shall believe, even if I believe it alone.” (146) Have you ever felt the temptation to count heads — or followers, likes, and shares — to see what you should or should not say? I have. When we begin sharing truth based on how well that truth will be received, we are halfway to compromise. Spurgeon counsels us to consider the cost beforehand: truth is often in the minority; to stand with it means you may stand alone. Yet those who stand for Christ’s truth never truly stand alone. You may go as Esther before the king without kin beside you, resolved that if you perish, you perish; you may preach like Stephen, as crowds press in around you, shutting their ears and hurling stones; you may rebuke King Herod’s adultery alone or say with Paul, “At my first defense no one came to stand by me” (2 Timothy 4:16) — but Christ shall be with you, even until the end of the age (Matthew 28:20). And if your cause is true, you will find, like Elijah, you are not the only one not to bow the knee to Baal (1 Kings 19:14, 18). 3. Recognize false unity. “It is, of course, the most easy to flesh and blood to deal in generalities, to denounce sectarianism, and claim to be of an ultra-catholic spirit; but though rough and rugged, it is required of the loyal servant of King Jesus to maintain all his crown rights and stand up for every word of his laws. Friends chide us and foes abhor us when we are very jealous for the Lord God of Israel, but what do these things matter if the Master approves?” (18) Error loves vagueness. As in Spurgeon’s day, the temptation to tolerate all positions and accept all perspectives on truth is strong in ours. We are told it is prejudiced, narrow, and even unchristian to draw lines. But to Spurgeon, promoting a type of “Christian unity” whose common denominator sinks lower than genuine Christianity in the first place is unacceptable. Unity of Jew and Gentile into one new man is bought with the blood of Christ; unity of gospel truth and gospel untruth is unity brought about by Satan. Orthodox Christianity, he argued, is distinct. Not all views can be true. When the only standard left is for all in the flock to have four legs, wolves and goats stand at ease among us. The trend toward an undoctrinal, atheological, shapeless evangelicalism, beginning in Spurgeon’s day and seemingly ripening in ours, is one of the quickest ways to compromise our fidelity to Christ and witness in the world. “Truth is often in the minority; to stand with it means you may stand alone.” In saying this, Spurgeon did not intend to divide over every possible theological difference — lest every man be an island unto himself. But Spurgeon chafed at minimizing Christian zeal and truth in order to bring together contrasting theologies and to mix liberalism with historic Christianity. We may be called particular or dogmatic, but what do we care if what we promote is the Master’s truth? Though the Heavens Fall “It is yours and mine to do the right though the heavens fall, and follow the command of Christ whatever the consequence may be. “That is strong meat,” do you say? Be strong men, then, and feed thereon.” (171) His beloved wife, who hung Matthew 5:11–12 in their bedroom, said after his death at the age of 57, “His fight for the faith . . . cost him his life.” He fought the good fight of faith, he kept the faith, he finished the race (2 Timothy 4:7), claiming before his death, “My work is done” (173). He lived for his Lord, and now he basks in his presence. To those of us who lag behind him, traversing our own times with all of their challenges and opportunities, temptations and labors, take up his oft-quoted hymn as we continue on in our race of faith: Must I be carried to the skies On flowery beds of ease, While others fought to win the prize And sailed through bloody seas? Since I must fight if I would reign, Increase my courage, Lord! I’ll bear the toil, endure the pain, Supported by thy word. Though the heavens fall, though the earth gives way, though controversy and temptations of spiritual compromise stand before us, may we heed this forgotten Spurgeon, hang Matthew 5:11–12 in our hearts, and live before men and devils with the courage and hope that only Christ supplies. Article by Greg Morse
