My Adventures with God: Chapter 10

Ch.10:   More Friends & a Foe

Reprieved! I started visiting churches looking for a “catechist” position. This was a very dispiriting experience. Perhaps it was me; perhaps it was them; most likely it was God, but none of the churches I visited made me feel I would ever want to go back there, let alone work there! That is until West Lindfield.

Sue and I went to an evening service at All Saints Anglican Church West Lindfield. Admittedly this was their main service for the day. But in contrast to the others we had visited it was packed. Not only that but packed with young and old alike. Also for me it was a repeat of my experience the first time I visited Turramurra Methodist – something inside me said: “you're home: This is it.”

Naturally after the service we talked to the minister and I told him I wanted to work there as a catechist and I think there must have been a formal interview later that week. In my enthusiasm I did not notice any reticence on the minister's part, but he later told Sue that he really didn't want me – but he gave up and took me in the end because I just wouldn't take the hint and go away!

The minister, Norm Gelding was just “Uncle Norm” to his flock and his wife “Mrs Norm.” They were former missionaries in Tanzania. Uncle Norm was nudging retirement age. He ran a stock-standard (for that time) evensong but with an “altar call” every time. Mrs Norm sat up the back and nothing escaped her eagle eye. Many a young pair having a discreet cuddle during the service got a gentle talking to afterwards.

The church was vibrantly Christian. It was inter-generational to an extent rare in those days. It was also closely bonded together.

For instance the young adults that I was to minister amongst hardly needed it. They met each Friday night in someone's home for a Bible study and prayer – the study leading was done by everyone in turn, and they covered a chapter of the Bible each time. Every Easter (a 4 or 5 day public holiday in Australia) they organised a camp with brilliant military precision which saw a hundred or so young people and chaperoning adults under canvas at some interesting holiday destination. At these discipline was strict. The boy found with a packet of cigarettes had his parents called and asked to take him home. Everything was thought of. In the camping area even the 'casual' arrangement of the car parking was thought out to block any would-be intruders. Sue commented one time we were all at a swimming pool how the young girls were innocently unaware how much effect they were having in their bikini's on the local boys. But their safety was assured by “big brothers” from the youth group who while unaffected, kept a watchful guard.

Uncle and Mrs Norm were also great. Every Sunday night after the crowds had finally dispersed we went back to the rectory. Here over coffee and Uncle Norm's customary ice-cream and chocolate topping we just talked. It never seemed particularly “religious” we just talked about everything. But bit-by-bit we were learning. They shared their experiences as missionaries. How they dealt with family crises. In everything we were like apprentices just seeing and learning how mature Christians did things.

We also learned more of Sydney Diocese politics. From amusing stories of Uncle Norm, the current Archbishop and Bishop Kerle having wrestling matches when they were all students together in Moore College to explanations of Sydney's doctrines vis-a-vis the rest of Australia.

As with the Kerle's I have no doubt the Geldings prayed a great deal for us. We undoubtedly needed it. We certainly benefited from it.

But I was still annoyed at the diocese for neglecting the theological students that were supposed to be training to be ministers in that diocese. We formed a plan. What if we could have a dinner for our year of students and get the Archbishop to come and meet them. Most of them had never even spoken to the Archbishop, only to college lecturers and the star chamber of assistant bishops.

Sue talked this over with Mrs Norm, who pointed out that Mrs. Kerle's sister was the Archbishop's wife. So Sue talked to Mrs. Kerle about the plan. The answer came back: “The Archbishop has never done so before and will never do so again, but just this once if he is officially invited he will come to a dinner with his ordinands.”

Now It was my turn to ask permission from Dr Knox, the principal of Moore College. He smiled his usual vague smile when I asked him and replied: “Of course you can have a year dinner and oh, you can invite the Archbishop if you wish: Of course he won't come.”

The Dinner was a huge success. The students catered for it (I nearly ruined our contribution by misreading “tbs” in the recipe for “lbs” pounds instead of tablespoons; luckily the it still tasted good even with six pounds of tomato paste!) The staff had to dig out their dog-collars to look suitably clerical, and the Archbishop was most gracious and socialised freely with his student ministers.

Bob, one of the more extrovert students in our year played Master of Ceremonies. The students, although a bit nervous really enjoyed it both as a social event and also seeing the archbishop in person.

The principal needless to say was not amused. But he hid his chagrin – he could afford to wait.

End of year came, the bishops wanted to move me to another church because I was plainly popular where I was. Uncle Norm and his churchwardens went in to bat this time and I was left at West Lindfield for the coming year.

With start of term just a few weeks away disaster struck. Not on me but on Bob who had so ably MC'd the student dinner. He was expelled and told that he and his wife must vacate their campus house. I think they were only given a week or so to be out – something so harsh that no secular landlord would be allowed to do it.

The pretext was that he failed his Greek exam. Their biblical sleight-of-hand was to quote the text “And the Lord's servant must be … able to teach” 2Timothy 2:24 and then add “obviously one is not able to teach the things of God without being fluent in biblical Greek”

By chance or by Divine providence just after I heard their sad news I was walking through the University grounds next door to Moore and noticed a billboard. It advertised a talk to be given the next day by Leon Morris, a noted Evangelical scholar and as it happened the principal of Ridley College in Melbourne. I told Bob and we both went to it and took the opportunity to speak to Leon and ask for his help after the talk. He was as gracious as Moore was brutal and within the week Bob and his wife had all their worldly goods loaded onto a friends ute and trailer for the trip to Melbourne.

People should stop and consider when God goes out of his way to confound their predictions. Bob did the final year of theological studies at Ridley (without Greek!) was ordained, was a highly successful parish minister and at the time of writing is an archdeacon (a sort of mini-bishop) and in charge of guiding Melbourne diocese's theological education programs.

My year passed uneventfully as far as college was concerned. No, that is not quite true. We all had to do trial sermon in the college chapel. It was video recorded. Later that day a reference group would go through it with the student and show them the error of their ways – not so much in style since that was unimportant but certainly in theology, which was.

I did my trial sermon. Being quite nervous the style was probably quite bad. But there was no review of it. The video had been accidentally erased. There had, I heard, been a very heated debate about my sermon in the staffroom over morning tea.

On the personal level Suzie and I (well she did the difficult bit) had our first baby – a boy who we named David.

Being 30 years old and having a baby I qualified to skip the usual 4^th year at Moore and to be ordained if I passed the external exams at the end of 3^rd year. I wanted to be out of college and doing something useful, so I naturally applied for this. Having been careful to keep out of trouble as Uncle Norm and Mrs Norm kept reminding me to I fully expected to be assigned to a church as a curate and ordained.

Year end came, tentative curate positions were announced. I was not among them. The 'second tier' of curacies was announced: I was not on that list either.

Uncle Norm made enquiries. Dr Knox the principal of Moore, he was told, had not recommended me for ordination and no one was ordained without his personal recommendation.