Irving Hexham's Blog

In praise of the Open House

2012-03-03T11:00:00.002-08:00

Workers Education AssociationOne of the features of evangelical Christianity in Manchester during the early 1960’s was what was called “the Open House.” These were run by Anglican curates, or committed members of the laity, who opened their homes to young people on Sunday evening service.

Open houses usually began with general socializing and the eating of snacks. But then, after about half an hour, a free for all discussion developed. Although they were moderated the topics and arguments were left entirely to those present. Thus the range of these discussions was remarkably wide.

Looking back I realize that open house were the religious equivalent of events organized by the Workers Education Association (WEA) on which they were probably modelled. The WEA was a remarkable organization set up by Oxbridge students, graduates, and professors in 1905 to improve the lot of workers by providing education in the broadest sense of the word.

Workers Education Association

Therefore, the WEA included courses on things like art and music appreciation alongside ones more directly related to work issues. In this respect it was very unlike the modern university which is rushing headlong down the path of education for employment rather than Newman’s ideal of education for life. This is why George Orwell and a host of other prominent people worked for it at one time or another including the Buddhist scholar Edward Conze who taught workers courses on Buddhism.

What open houses did was allow young adults to explore a wide range of topics within an open Christian framework. This allowed people studying difficult topics at grammar schools, where the level of education was equivalent to a first year university course in Canada of the USA, or university to voice doubts about Christianity and think through critical issues.

When I first began to attend one run by Peter Downing, of Cheadle Parish Church, the topic of discussion, which went on for several weeks, was Boris Pasternak’s novel Doctor Zhivago Pasternak (1957). This was because it was the set text for that year’s British “A Level,” the exam that admitted people to university. I had never heard about the book before and found it fascinating

What was impressive about these discussions was the flexibility of the people involved and their willingness to consider anything. For example, in discussing Pasternak’s work no one raised the type of question about sexual morality which are typical of North American Christian debates about this kind of novel. Instead, they concentrated on the literary value of the text, political issues and the meaning of life.

Perhaps the high level of discussion is not surprising since most of the people running them were Oxbridge graduates who were transporting the seminar from the ivy tower to the local parish. It has always seemed to me that the involvement of well-educated clergy and laity from the equivalent of Oxbridge is almost entirely missing in North American Christianity. Perhaps it helps explain the anti-intellectualism that pervades so many churches and Christian groups.

My academic education begins

2011-12-11T09:23:00.000-08:00

When I began work with the North Western Gas Board my first six months as an apprentice were spent in a newly opened training school. In the mornings we received lectures on gas technology and various other aspects of the industry. The afternoons were spent in the workshop learning to bend copper, iron, and lead pipes, to wield and solder then together.

On the first day of class Arthur Barton, the head of the school, began his lecture entering the class clutching a large book. He proceeded to ask us if we knew the meaning of “scintillate, scintillate, constellation galaxy”? When none of us ventured an answer he replied “twinkle, twinkle, little star, you f***** stupid gutter snipes.” He went on "and I suppose you don't know what 'copulate' means do you? It means f******." Then he waved the book at us declaring “This is dictionary. Go out and buy one. Then read it and learn what words mean and how to pronounce them.”

At the time Barton’s admonition had little effect on me. Only after I joined Peter Downing's mid-week Bible Study did they begin to make sense. When I began to attend they were studying the Epistles of John at the end of the New Testament. At the first session I had little to say and was somewhat embarrassed by being asked to read a passage aloud. So I asked Val Grieve what the book was about and lent me a copy of William Barclay’s (1907-1978) New Testament commentary on the letters of St. John.

Barkley was a great writer and the book was a real help. The only problem was that it talked about a group of people known as Gnostics. So at the next Bible Study I contributed by making a comment on the “G-no-sticks.”

No one laughed, and my remark was taken seriously, but clearly there was some confusion about what I was saying. Afterwards, when everyone was drinking coffee and eating cookies, Peter Downing gently pointed out that my pronunciation was quite confusing and that I when I encountered a new word I really ought to use a dictionary to discover its meaning. Now Arthur Barton’s vivid lesson began to make sense and I developed an interest in words.

When I mentioned the fact that I had made a fool of myself to the gas fitter I served most of my apprenticeship with, Bass Mutch, he came up with a great solution. In his cellar he had a large collection of the Reader’s Digest which he was about to dump. So he gave them to me and suggested that I read the section “It pays to increase your word power.” This was great advice and for the next six months I carried a copy of the Reader’s Digest with me which I read as I walked from job to job. They worked wonders and I took my first step towards becoming an academic.

The reality of class

2011-12-10T21:37:00.000-08:00

St Mary's Parish Church n Cheadle, Cheshire, is a beautiful, old English Church which is listed as a historic building of note by English Heritage. It was built in the early 16th. century although a church existed on the site from at least the 12th. century.

The parish church was run by a minister, known as a Rector, assisted by a junior minister, or curate. It had two daughter churches both run by curates. These were the nineteenth century St. Cuthbert's and the newer St. Phillips which was built after the war on a 1930's housing estate.

Cheadle Parish Church of St. Mary

When we moved to Cheadle in 1958 we lived on the housing estate close to St. Phillips. Most of the people living around us were either upper working class or at the lower end of the lower middle class and owned their own homes. Overall the area itself was one or two notches up the social scale from places like Salford’s Coronation Street of television fame.

Although there were a number of people of my age in the immediate neighborhood they all went to the local grammar school where they studied for the English General Certificate of Education (GCE) examinations. These exams prepared the way for a white collar career or, if they went on to the advanced level GCE, and university. Those who took the ordinary level exams left school at sixteen the others at eighteen.

In our neighborhood I was the only one to attend what was known as a Secondary Modern School. To put this in perspective 5% of the entire teenage population of England went to grammar, or the even more elite public schools. Of these about half, or 2.5%, went on to university. The rest of us went to Secondary Mods. Anyone interested in more information about this ridged and highly elitist educational system should read Anthony Sampson’s excellent Anatomy of Britain (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1962).

Since I had failed my eleven-plus examination when I was twelve I was expected to leave school at 15 which I did a few months after arriving in Cheadle. At that time I began my apprenticeship and settled down to a working class existence.

Then as explained in an earlier blog, when I was eighteen, I got converted and began attending church. Only one other person I knew at the Gas Board in Stockport, a Roman Catholic, admitted to going to church. All the others thought religion was dying out.

Because I was converted through the efforts of St. Mary’s youth group, which regularly ran an open air evangelistic services usually led by a young lawyer, Val Grieve, I began attending Cheadle Parish Church. The congregation was definitely upper middle class in its social composition. At the same time because I lived on the estate near St. Philips I was encouraged to go there

St. Mary's congregation today

So I ended up attending both churches by going to St. Philips on Sunday mornings and some evenings and attending a mid-week Bible study organized by Peter Downing the curate at St. Mary’s. I also went to St. Mary’s excellent youth group of Saturday evenings and to the occasional evening service at the parish church.

To their credit most of the people of my age who attended St. Mary's welcomed me even though I was a worker and didn't go to grammar school. In particular Peter Hayman and his girlfriend Judy were especially encouraging. Only occasionally did I meet someone who make it clear that I belonged to the “lower classes” because I did not speak correct, or BBC, English. Such people thought that I ought not to attend the Parish Church and occasionally said so.

Christmas in Cheadle Parish Church

Back home to Animal Farm

2011-12-02T06:46:00.000-08:00

Returning home to Manchester in the middle of September my life slowly began to change once more. Since the building of the Berlin Wall tensions between East and West ran high and everyone looked to Berlin as a potential flash point. Yet very few people, and certainly no one in Cheadle’s churches had visited the now divided city.

As a result I found myself quizzed about my trip to Berlin. Then a local Anglican curate, Peter Wilkinson, discovered that I had taken a lot of slides of the Berlin Wall and other places. So he invited me to show them to the church’s youth group.

Looking into East Berlin from the West

This was my first public speaking engagement and could easily have been a disaster. But, because I was used to performing stage magic I spoke with confidence and it went over very well. Consequently, I received several other invitations to speak to local Christian groups.

Although I treated my Berlin talk rather like a theatrical act there was a big difference. For the first time I had an audience that talked back and asked difficult questions. The people who put the questions to me were my age, but they read books with strange names like 1984 and Animal Farm and I was expected to compare these books to East Germany. Even worse I was asked about Boris somebody or other who had written a book they were all reading about the Russian Revolution.

To be honest I didn’t have a clue what they were talking about or how to answer most of the questions. Talking about what I saw and heard in Berlin was one thing. Answering questions about weird books was another.

Very quickly I became aware of the huge gap that existed between my own background and that of the folk I met through the church. While I was an apprentice who left school at 15 they were all the products of the elite English grammar school system. Thus while I expected to earn my living as a gas fitter they all planned to attend teacher training colleges or universities and become professionals.

Slowly it dawned on me that these people, who seemed so like myself in church and at the Billy Graham Crusade, actually belonged to a very different world where I was an outsider. In other words, although I did not realize it at the time, class differences were beginning to make themselves felt.

The wisdom of an East German Pastor

2011-10-15T10:39:00.000-07:00

The pastor in whose home we met was, Günter Reymann. He and his wife were among a small group of dedicated Christians who had given up a relatively peaceful and prosperous life in West Germany to move to the East where they felt they were needed. Now they lived in East Berlin behind the Berlin Wall and suffered all the restrictions that brought with it. His English was excellent because during World War II he had been a prisoner of war in a British POW camp West of Edmonton in Canada. Three things he told us stuck in my mind.

The Brandenburg Gate in 1962

First, he talked about his treatment as a prisoner-of-war in a very positive manner. The story I remember is that about a year before the end of the war the prisoners had asked permission to go on a hike up a local mountain. To their surprise the Canadian commander gave them his permission although a couple of guards went along too and they had to agree to be back fairly early in the evening.

On the hike his party lost their guards and then got lost themselves. As a result they returned to the camp very late at night expecting to be punished. But, the Canadian officer in charge understood what had happened and told them that they were lucky not to have encountered a bear. This episode impressed Reymann with the humanity of Canadians and the importance of trust in human relations something he observes was missing in Nazi Germany and the Communist German Democratic Republic.

Chackpoint Charlie one of the ways in to East Berlin

The second thing he said was that he saw Communists as members of a secular religious sect. His reason for this was simple. Sects, he said, are always teaching and rarely crack jokes about themselves. Committed communists he observed acted in the same way. Fanatics, he added, lack a sense of humour and have an urge to lecture others. At the time this observation seemed trivial. Over the years I came to increasingly appreciate its wisdom.

His third word of wisdom concerned the Confessing Church. His father, he told us, was a pastor during the Nazi era. After 1933 he became increasingly skeptical and worried by the Nazis. Following the formation of Confessing Church his father seriously considered joining it. But, the local Confessing Church minister demanded an immediate decision and told him that anyone who did not join was as bad as the Nazis. This confrontation, which was intended to jolt him into joining the Confession Church, had the opposite effect to the one intended. Although he grew increasingly opposed to the Nazis he refused to join the Confessing Church because some of its members seemed as fanatical as the Nazis.


A small discussion group in the East Berlin Church where Diedrich Bonhoeffer, one of the leaders of the Confession Church was the pastor. His photo stands in the background.

From this story Pastor Reymann drew the conclusion that in dealing with Communists, or anyone else he disagreed with, it was necessary to be patient. People must be allowed to make decisions for themselves in their own time and ought not to be pressured or condemned if they do not agree with one’s point of view.

These very humane and wise observations remained with me. After returning to Britain I kept up sporadic contact with Pastor Reymann and his daughter Jutta for a number of years, but sadly we lost touch as time passed. When I attempted to contact him again during a visit to Berlin in the early 1990’s I learned that he had died a few months earlier.

Return to East Berlin

2011-09-05T09:55:00.000-07:00

The last time I blogged was on 5 March which is far too long ago. To cut a long story short what happened was that I got caught up with the end of term and a research trip to Germany. Normally, these things ought not to have stopped my blogging. But, I felt unusually tired. Then, after my return from Germany the unexpected happened, I had a heart attack. In retrospect it explains my lack of energy and general lethargy.

Now I seem well on the way to a recovery and hope to take up my blog from where I left off. That was in Berlin in the early 1960’s. In my last blog I told the story of my encounter with a Russian officer who treated was very kind while carrying out his orders to destroy my photographs of a military instillation which I had taken by accident.

The Soviet War Memorial in Treptower Park

A few days later we were given the choice of returning to East Berlin or sightseeing in the West. I chose to go back to the East. On this trip we visited the imposing Soviet War Memorial in Treptower Park. Since I have written about it elsewhere I will not repeat myself here. Anyone wanting more information should look at my travel blog for 22 January 2011.

At the end of this second tour of East Berlin we were asked if any of us would like to meet some young East Germans. I jumped at the chance and a meeting was arranged for the following Monday at a Pastor’s home in Tierpark. Only three or four of the group went along. At the meeting we met half a dozen East German Christians most of whom spoke good English.


The Church in Tierpark that the East Germans we met attended	.

They told horrific stories about the Stasi, East Germany’s dreaded secret police, and the way their families, all of whom were professionals, were treated for their refusal to embrace Marxism and continued allegiance to the Church. Years later the film The Lives of Others (2006) gave a fairly accurate depiction of the activities of the Stasi.

They too suffered and although they were all clearly very intelligent they were prohibited from attending university. This was a real blow because many of their parents were doctors or nurses yet they had to be content with gardening jobs in Berlin’s parks. Only if they publicly withdrew from the Church and attended the State’s secular confirmation was it possible for them to enter university.

Berlin's Stasi Museum

Consequently, a lot of our conversation was about the East German practice of secular confirmation which was a deliberate mimicking of Christian confirmation intended to instil a firm commitment to Marxist-Leninism. For these folk at least their future prospects in East Germany looked very bleak with no hope of betterment or obtaining decent work.

The fact that they chose to remain Christian in the face of such pressure was remarkable and a testimony to their very real faith.

Inside the Stasi Museum

Unforgettable Encounters

2011-03-05T08:48:00.000-08:00

Most of us have, at one time or another, visited somewhere, or seen something, that made a profound impression on us. Then, years later we have returned to the spot full of anticipation only to find that the beautiful valley was full of disused mines and slag heaps that had marred the landscape for over a hundred years. Thus, our childhood memory of a beautiful place was more illusion than reality.

Thirty years after my first visit to Berlin I returned in June 1992. Although I told my wife that we must visit the Pergamon Museum in former East Berlin and the bust of Queen Nefertiti (1370-1330 BC) in the Ägyptisches Museum (Museum of Egyptian Antiquities) in Charlottenburg, I was deliberately subdued. To be honest, while I looked forward to seeing these sights once more my expectations were fairly low. It was, after all, thirty years since my last visit and I was sure my memories of the stunning impact they had made on me as a young man must have grown with time. Therefore, I expected to be disappointed.

Queen Nefertiti in the Egyptian Museum, Charlottenburg

It is now housed in the New Museum on Museum Island in Berlin

Nothing could have been further from the truth. Nefertiti was exactly as I remembered her only more beautiful and intriguing than ever while the Pergamon remained equally breathtaking. History had not diminished their appeal or impact. They were, and remain, among the wonders of the world.

Two other events of that original visit to Berlin are worth coming on. After visiting the Pergamon Museum we came out and walked a short distance to the adjoining Bode Museum. On the way I took a photograph of what was clearly a military building with a large banner containing a slogan from the works of Karl Marx.

The barracks with a slogan by Karl Marx over the main doors. Two Russian soldiers are just visible. They are the ones that arrested me.

As we entered the Bode Museum two Russian soldier, with rifles slung over their shoulders appeared behind us, and I was marched off into the building to fact a Russian officer who spoke excellent English. He asked me what I was doing in Berlin and why I had photographed a military installation and whether I realized that he had the power to arrest me and send me for trial.

I told him that I was an apprentice from Manchester and on a worker exchange with apprentices from West Berlin. He asked me about my trades union membership and asked to see my passport and the palms of my hands. Once convinced that I really was an apprentice he asked why I had photographed the barracks. I truthfully told him that I did not know it was a barracks and that all I was doing was photographing the banner with Karl Marx’s name on it.

The Bode Museum on the right of the photo

Then, he spoke to the two soldiers who were still standing behind me. After that he explained that they did not understand English and he had told them that I was a “worker” who had simply made a mistake in my enthusiasm to photograph one of the great sayings of Karl Marx.

This seemed to please everyone and the officer said that he understood that I had made a genuine mistake in my enthusiasm for socialism and that while he ought to confiscate my camera he realized it would be hard for me to get a new one. Therefore, he suggested that if I opened the back of the camera to expose the film. After that I could leave. Then, to my surprise, he suggested that I “wind back” the film so that I would not loose any other photos. I could hardly believe what he was saying, but I followed his instructions and was let go.

A statute of Marx, who is sitting, and Engels, standing, in the park by Alexander Platz

Once back with our group I put my lens cap on and rewound the film so that nothing was lost. As a result all of my photos, including the one of the barracks, were all preserved. Even today I wonder about that young officer who was a thoroughly decent man. Did he really think I was a socialist? Or was he a dissident who had a sympathy for the West?

Strange encounters

2011-02-13T11:41:00.000-08:00

Our encounter with Berlin began in earnest on Friday, 31st August, with an early breakfast that shocked everyone present. Instead of the usual English bacon and eggs we were given bread rolls along with a variety of cheeses, sliced meat, and the best coffee any of us had ever tasted.

Then we were whisked off on a tour of West Berlin ending up at Rathaus Schöneberg (the town hall of the Schöneberg area) which was the main administrative building of the Western sector where J.F. Kennedy (1917-1963) was to give his famous "Ich bin ein Berliner" speech two years later.

John F. Kennedy in Berlin
Credit: American Government photo.

This was followed by receptions at the Evangelische Kirche der Union (the headquarters of the Prussian Church Union which is the major protestant denomination in Berlin) in Berlin-Charlottenburg. This meeting was organized by the Ecumenical Division of the Church. At both of these meetings we were given lectures on politics and religion respectively.

The most remarkable aspect of this visit was that the Protestant Union was that I actually met my future brother-in-law. This was something I did not discover until my wife tracked down her “lost” sisters in 1995. They had been separated in 1948 by the Red Army and she was unable to trace their whereabouts until after the Fall of the Berlin Wall and the unification of Germany.

Helga, Karla's sister, Rolf her husband, and Karla

at the Berlin Philharmonic in 2001. Athough we did not know

it until 1995 we had met forty years earlier during

my first trip to Berlin - what a coincidence.

The reason I am mentioning this is that it is a good example of those remarkable coincidences that occur throughout life. In fact, my wife’s sister had moved from an East German orphanage in the 1950’s to West Berlin where she later met her future husband a Swiss citizen who worked for the Protestant Union. When we met for the first time in 1995 he asked if this was our first visit to Berlin and I said that I was there in 1962. As it turned out he was one of the people who had organized our visit and met with us.

Forty-six years later, with Karla, I visited the von Hammerstein's

The other person we met at that meeting was Dr. Franz von Hammerstein (b. 1921) who spent a lot of time with us during our visit to Berlin. He was involved with the 20th of July plot against Hitler, then after the war he studied theology and played an important role in German church life by helping found Aktion Sühnezeichen (Action Committee Service for Peace) and the Topographie des Terrors (Topography of Terror) Exhibition and Foundation in Berlin.

Over forty years later I met him again when my wife, Karla Poewe, interviewed him as part of her study of post-war Germany. Once again the “coincidence” of our earlier meetings struck me. It is experiences like this that have always made me question the neat explanations of descriptions of similar events in the Bible by Biblical scholars. They like to explain similar stories away in terms of the supposed duplication and repetition of events from different long lost manuscript traditions. Such arguments always make me feel Biblical scholars live in the very protected and unreal world of academia. In real life the most unexpected and strange things really do happen.

Topography of Terror Foundation

Credit creative commons: Manfred Brückels

The road to Berlin

2011-01-22T08:43:00.000-08:00

On 29 August, 1962, a party of 19 Manchester apprentices, including several from the North Western Gas Board, two Church of England ministers and one trades union official, left by train for Harwich. From there we took the overnight ferry to the Hook of Holland where we boarded a second train for Berlin.

The Manchester group - our Berlin guide, Wesley Bourdette, is on the bottom left.

The real excitement began when we crossed the border into the German Democratic Republic. Once over the border the train was stopped and searched by armed guards. Then it began a very slow journey on to Berlin. Along the way was saw armed guards and watch towers at regular intervals.We also saw several groups of forced labourers working in fields where they were guarded by what looked like the army. Taking photographs was difficult because we were told that if we were caught doing so our cameras would be confiscated. To make matters worse, and add to our sense of occassion , a guard regularly checked up on us.

East German watchtower.

Our route took us through a largely rural landscape until we reached Potsdam which was the first East German town we were able to observe from our rail carriage. What we saw looked dreadful. Bombed out houses were everywhere and those that were in better condition badly needed a coat of paint and other repairs. We were not impressed.

Eventually, thirty-one hours after leaving Manchester we again crossed a border, where the train was once more thoroughly searched, to reach the glittering sights of West Berlin. What a contrast to the dreary landscape of East Germany. The first thing that surprised us were the numerous lakes within the city boundaries. The second the well maintained houses and other buildings.

Manchester apprenticies in Berlin, Wesley Bourdette is leading a discussion.

In Berlin we were met at the Berlin Zoo railway station by an American Church of Christ pastor, Wesley Bourdette, who was our guide and interpreter throughout the two weeks we spent in the city. After dinner we were also given the first of a series of lectures about Berlin, the Cold War, and divided Germany. This one, by Bourdette, gave us an overview of Berlin’s history and the current situation a year after the construction of the notorious Berlin Wall.

Our first sight of the Berlin Wall.

The following day our educational tour began in earnest …

More to follow …

The impact of evangelical conversions

2011-01-17T22:40:00.000-08:00

What most people overlook when they talk about religious conversion is its far reaching impact in personal and social terms. This point is frequently made by David Martin, one of Britain’s best known sociologists, when he says that he owes his entire academic career to the evangelical conversion of his alcoholic grandfather. Without that event the family would have remained in dire poverty with no educational or other opportunities, But, because an evangelist, Gypsy Smith, entered his grandfather’s life the fate of the entire family was dramatically changed with the result that a family at the bottom of the social ladder rose dramatically and David became a respected professor.

Something similar happened to me. As apprentices one of the first things we learnt was that if the fitter we were working with told us to “go and check that other job,” then we had to clear off for a couple of hours. What was actually happening was that he was about to enter into a tryst with the woman in whose house we were installing an appliance. Although this did not happen every day it did occur on a fairly regular basis.

Locating a gas leak - I'm standing.

After my evangelical conversion I expressed my disapproval of these adulterous liaisons. Consequently, I was suddenly promoted to a senior apprentice. This meant that I no longer assisted a qualified fitter. Instead I was sent out on my own jobs as though I was fully qualified. This happened when the fitter I was assigned to told our foreman that my work was “just as good” as his own and that he had taught me all that he could. Therefore, I was ready to work by myself. In fact, I was probably ready for the transition which came a few months ahead of schedule. What it did, however, was boost my reputation with the management. Of course, all the folk I worked with knew the real reason – my religion was getting in the way of normal life.

A few months after my conversion another event occurred that was to have an equally long term impact on my life. Billy Graham came to England for the Greater Manchester Crusade. Knowing that my colleagues were thorough going heathens I did all I could to lure them to one of Graham’s meeting to no avail. As part of this campaign I placed stickers on my motor bike advertising the event.

The sticker that I stuck onto my motor bike's gas tank
It set me on a journey of discovery in some most unexpected ways

Almost a year later I received notice that one of the main managers at the Stockport Gas Board, where I worked, wanted to see me. When I went to his office he questioned me about the Billy Graham stickers on my motor bike the previous year. Although I was surprised that he remembered the Crusade I admitted that it was true. He then asked me if I attended Church and I told him that I was a Christian.

After receiving what was obviously a satisfactory reply he asked me if I would like to go to Berlin, Germany, on an apprentice exchange. The reason I had been selected was that the event was being organized by the Industrial Chaplaincies in Manchester and Berlin and, as he put it, “At least you believe something even it if is an American import. So I might as well send you as one of those buggers who never goes near a church …”

More to follow …

Confessions of a Religious Studies Scholar II: Conversion

2011-01-08T15:01:00.000-08:00

Before my “evangelical conversion” my hobby was stage magic. That is conjuring tricks for the purpose of entertainment, not some form of occult religion. In fact, I had begun to develop a very profitable small business performing at various events such as children’s and office parties throughout the winter. At the time I could earn as much from a half-hour magic show as I earned in a week as an apprentice.

In attempting to improve my performances I came to know a local inventor of magical tricks, Normal Hazeldine who’s “Hip Hop Rabbits” was quite famous in magical circles. He was retired and he earned extra income by selling unique magical equipment which he built at his home.


Irving, age 16, performing the Chinese linking rings trick.

Norman, whose rabbit trick can be seen in the background of the picture above, had one other great passion: scepticism. This he took very seriously. Therefore, in addition to selling me some really excellent magical tricks he lent me various anti-religious books including works by Tom Paine, Annie Besant and Charles Bradlaugh. The importance of this was that it was my first introduction to logical argument of a systematic kind. It also meant that my rejection of religion was based on argument not simple neglect.

Tom Paine the author of The Age of Reason

Early in September 1960 I met a couple of very attractive young women who tried to interest me in attending the local parish church. I steadfastly refused telling them that I though religion in general and Christianity in particular was a “load of rubbish.” Undeterred one of them invited me to a meeting the following Saturday where she said I could have a “good argument” with some of her friends. Since I had nothing better to do that weekend I went along. There I discovered that her name was Judy and to my great disappointment was introduced to her fiancé Peter Heyman with whom I soon became firm friends.

Years later, after completing his PhD, Peter joined the Faculty of Theology at the University of Edinburgh where he taught until he retired a couple of years ago. Over the years our understanding of religion changed. He became an agnostic and I became a Christian. Nevertheless, we have remained good friends.

Largely as a result of Peter’s arguments I was slowly convinced of the validity and truth of Christianity. As a result by Christmas of that year I had started attending church and realized that I believed in the Christian gospel. This realization dramatically changed my life …
More to follow …

Confessions of a Religious Studies scholar

2010-12-30T22:07:00.001-08:00

Students frequently ask Religious Studies teachers how they came to study religion and whether or not they actually believe anything. Usually, those who ask this sort of question want one of two answers. First, there are evangelical Christians who hope that a professor is “a believer.” Then there are the secularists who want assurance that they will not be subjected to “Christian indoctrination.”

Therefore, at the beginning of term I usually tell students that these are questions I refuse to answer because I do not want to confirm their prejudices one way or the other. It is, I tell them, up to them to try to figure out what I believe. But, so that they know I am not dodging the issue entirely, I always promise to say something about my own beliefs at the end of the course.

Whitehaven harbour -photo Douglas Gemmell - Wiki Commons

Writing a regular blog is somewhat different to teaching a class of undergraduates, therefore it seems reasonable to say something about my own ideas and beliefs at the outset. This will give readers an idea of what to expect and, hopefully, prepare them for what follows. The best way to do this, I believe, is by explaining something about my history and what led me to study religion in the first place.
I was born in Whitehaven, Cumbria, England, and spent my childhood in various parts of the north of England.

At the age of 15 I left school, as did most members of my generation, and began a six-year apprenticeship in gas fitting. After its completion of my apprenticeship I worked as a manager for the North Western Gas Board in Manchester, England and later lecturer in gas technology at what was then Stretford Technical College.

Cheadle Parish Church of St. Mary photo by Alexander P Kapp

See: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/St_Mary%27s_Church,_Cheadle

When I was eighteen years old, while still an apprentice, I experienced an evangelical conversion through the open air preaching of Val Grieve and the Cheadle Parish Church youth group. Contact with this active evangelical Anglican Church radically changed my life since none of the people I worked with made any pretence of being Christian ...

More to follow.