a new start

These blogs will describe critical challenges that my 'theological' thinking has undergone in the midst of my travels. I believe my theological learning has only been enriched by the encounter with other Christians and people of other or no faith. On that Christmas eve I expeienced something deeply profound. Forgiveness!  I knew little of the meaning of grace or of complex of soteriological theories, but I felt a release from deeply entrenched burdens within. With it came the realization that someting new was beginning - that I had the chance to become the person I thought it was not possible to be. And I had done nothing to earn it, other than to turn up at church under false pretences. There can be no excuse for self-righteousness in the midst of recalling God's grace. I'd been slapped in the face of my soul with a force that awakened life within me. I now had faith - now, my quest was to understand.

A cinical friend told me later that this was just a part of growing up. Fair point, but inadequate to understand the experience of that evening. I was also cautioned by an tearful objector scarred from bitter Irish religious conflicts that forgiveness is more complicated than having a slate wiped clean. Certainly! Wounds take time to heal among those who have been trampled along the way. (Forgiveness remains a sensitive issue, and I am at present investigating the concept of power and forgiveness, an interesting study which I'll share more at a later date. Any publishers can contact me at any point if interested!)

Things changed at the rugby club. My car had been spotted outside church both on Sunday mornings and evenings for several weeks. I hadn't really shared what was going on with many people as I was still trying to make sense of my new bearings. I had stopped going out with the boys after games, and this was duly noted during a dressing room enquiry. There were two reasons  deemed worthy of going to church. One was the mandatory commitment to attend services prior to getting married in the church building. The second was the quest for dating a cute girl whose preference was for church rather than the local pubs.  As I sat between two of the players in the dressing room the court began. I confessed that something had changed and I was exploring a different path. I received a couple of light hearted punches to the ribs, ones which I could never admit to hurting. Interestingly in the pub at a later date one of the chaps asked me about why I didn't want to party like I used to, and I began to articulate in basic ways how I wanted something different. By the end of the evening more than twelve had joined in the fringes of the conversation to hear my first ramblings of a testimony.

Sometime later Rev. Paul Gardener spoke from the pulpit of the church, preaching that we had gifts to be used in the world. I remember vividly thinking to myself at the end of the sermon 'what good is a physical education teacher in Africa?' Not sure where Africa came into the equation, other than the images portrayed annually in the media during 'chidren in need' benefit drives. Surely Africa needed engineers, doctors, folks with worthy skill sets, not those with the ability to teach how to curve a free kick. Later that week I had an appointment to see the Headteacher at school. I arrived in his office and he received a phone call. With nothing better to do I picked up a copy of the Times Educational Supplement to continue my exploration with promotion. There, in a half page spread, was an advertisement calling for 'Physical Education teachers to volunteer in Africa'. I chuckled at the comic timing and thought the minister would be amused. But I left the office and phoned them directly. I had to at least go through the motions of following this lead, even though there would be no chance of going through with it.

Only months later I was on a plane to Zimbabwe as a volunteer. I quit my job after proclaiming my new commitment to follow Jesus Christ in school assemblies (without a cool leather jacket!)