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Writer's pictureRoss Moughtin

May we be alert to his ring




One of the key moments in my life:  A-level results day.

 

All these years later I can still vividly recall the tension as our headmaster walked out of his study to pin the results on the noticeboard.  As it happened, he immediately noticed me: “You’re in!”  That was all I needed to know:  I had met my grades.

 

For some time, no doubt as part of the ageing process, I have been musing on those people who not only made a significant contribution to my life but in such a way that had they not been there, the course of my life would have been very different. 

 

There are many, like my headmaster, who had a huge influence in encouraging me along the direction I was already taking.  But when it comes to those who single-handedly actually changed the course of my life, we are only talking about a handful.  For them I thank God. 

 

In this autobiographical blog I’m hoping that I am concise enough to include the first three people who intentionally made a huge difference– Alan, Joe and Roger.  

 

So starting with my A-level results, I thank God for Alan Gudgeon, our sixth-form economics teacher, who arrived at our school at the same time as we started sixth-form. 

 

Before his arrival no one from Waterloo Grammar School, apart from a couple of mathematicians, had even tried for Oxbridge but coming from a school which regularly sent boys to both universities, Mr Gudgeon to everyone’s bewilderment, advised I apply to Cambridge. 

 

As it happened, only that year the university had decided to accept applicants from those grammar schools which didn’t have a third-year Oxbridge sixth form. For the first year ever, conditional A-levels were sufficient. 

 

Consequently going to Catz was to have a huge influence on me, not least in eventually becoming a vicar in the CofE.  My life would have been very different had Alan Gudgeon not applied to WGS in 1965.  His refusal to accept the status quo while raising our expectations was crucial.

 

Next: J W D Walker  – who hopefully is reading this email in Texas.

 

It’s 4 June, 1964.  I had just come second in the Merseyside Grammar School’s U16 880 yards.  Walking across the track towards me came a smartly-dressed man who introduced himself as the coach for Waterloo Harriers. 

 

There and then Joe offered me a place in his middle-distance squad.  But this, he explained, would mean a total commitment, in particular I would be expected to train every day. 

 

And that was it for the next seven years or so: I trained every day, except when there was ice, fog or it was a rest day before a race.  More to the point, Joe would always be there himself, directing the entire training session. Even on Christmas Day. 

 

My athletics career was to prove pivotal, opening all kinds of doors.  And 60 years later I still go for a run, nowadays alternate days to avoid injury.  Running is now in my DNA:  it’s what I do, whatever, wherever.   

 

So I thank God for Joe for teaching commitment by example, his willingness to stand in a wet field on a wintery November evening to make sure we completed all ten repetitions of 440 yards. 

 

But pride of place has to go to Roger.  It was he who led me to Christ. 

 

I hardly knew Roger – he just came out of the blue and returned there within weeks.  A few years older than me, he came from a troubled background.  I guess he had additional needs.  In other words, the kind of person God loves to use. 

 

It was a Saturday afternoon and I was relishing having the house to myself so I could watch Grandstand undisturbed.  Annoyingly the doorbell goes.

 

 “Do you know Dorothy Edge?” this stranger asks. 

“Never heard of her,” I replied, beginning to close the door. 

 

However, Roger checked me. He just stood there, clearly very nervous and not knowing what to say.  Whatever he was there for, he wasn’t going to give up.

 

It turned out that this Dorothy Edge was my sister’s Sunday School teacher at the nearby Gospel Hall, which she had recently started attending.  And Dorothy had asked Roger to invite me to their Covenanter Group for teenage boys.

 

Simply to get rid of him, I agreed to go.  Returning to Grandstand, I remember  wondering why I had accepted this strange invitation. However, what was striking was how Roger was willing to set aside his shyness and low self-esteem to do what he believed God was calling him to do. 

 

I often wonder what happened to Roger.  Clearly he was at the whacky edge of the Kingdom, willing to look foolish in the eyes of the world.  But he demonstrated what the apostle Paul calls “the obedience of faith.”  And at the end of the day, it’s obedience to the Lord what counts. 

 

So this day may God use us to make a difference.  May we be alert to his ring


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