Religion: Christianity Is Just the Job

Christianity Is Just the Job In the canteen of a British metal foundry in North Birmingham, 200-odd coveralled workers were assembled. The managing director had given them 20 minutes before they would have to go back to work. A short, grey-haired visitor stepped forward, his blue eyes blazing, his arms pumping violently. “Sin, sin,” he cried. “Sin is gnawing away at the human heart. I’m not pointing the finger of accusation at you. I know, as I stand here today, I’m in the same trouble as you. But I know I’ve found the answer—Jesus Christ . . . There’s only one time to get right with God. It is now, now, now!”

Evangelist Charles Potter, 45, was in high gear last week on an experiment called the North Birmingham Industrial Crusade. Through a three-square-mile area of dour, industrial Birmingham, Potter and his fellow crusaders are swarming in a “saturation campaign” designed to test the chances of evangelizing the segment of Britain that Billy Graham largely failed to reach—the workers. Potter’s plan is not to rack up as many “decisions for Christ” as possible, but to stimulate discussion along Christian lines, eventually organize “Christian cells in the factories—Communism in reverse.”

To the Positive Side. Potter is a Communist in reverse himself. For 15 years he was a leading party organizer in Reading. But in 1953, he reports, “I began to feel a deep unrest.” Billy Graham came to England, and Potter decided that such a proficient crowd mover might have something to teach a Communist tactician. His first meeting left him cold, but later, when he attended the baptism of a friend whom Graham had converted, Potter was deeply moved. At a Communist mass meeting in Reading Market Square, Potter turned Red faces redder with the announcement that he had turned Christian and left the party. He was not going to attack the Communists, he explained; he was going to move to the positive side and Breach Christianity.

Potter quit his factory job, joined an evangelical group called the Workers’ Christian Fellowship. Soon, he averaged 12,000 miles and 400 speeches a year. During his travels he met a young Anglican minister called Bruce Reed who was shepherding study and prayer groups of Graham-converted university students.

Reed wanted to get the more promising among them into the field as evangelists, and they decided to join forces in the North Birmingham crusade.

The Quiet Way. Last week, with the blessing of plant managers and union shop stewards, Potter, Reed and 20 fresh-faced fledgling evangelists moved from factory to factory in the area, pep-talking, chatting, leading discussions. After factory closing time the crusaders made house-to-house calls among the 75,000 people of the area, announced as doors opened: “We’d like to talk to you about the difference Jesus Christ makes on the job.” This week they are holding a series of evening meetings in a local Baptist church (chosen for its location rather than denomination) which are addressed by machine operators, clerks, union leaders, foremen and company officials. Slogan of the two-week crusade: “Just the job”—a non-U British expression synonymous with “just the ticket.”

The turn-out for meetings indicates that many workers agree Christianity is just the job. But Potter and Reed do not expect the crusade to end in a blaze of bright statistics. “Christians work slowly, ” says Potter. “We’re doing an experiment . . . We want to get our message across in a quiet way, and get the workers to work out their problems with us.”