So let’s start at (or near) the beginning. From my earliest memories I attended church. My mum and dad were loyal, if not fervent, attendees at a local Baptist church. Mum had grown up in the Baptist church. Dad had been part of the Methodist church down the road, so it wasn’t a particularly big leap to join the Baptists when they got married. So my sister and I just grew up with all that. As I say, it wasn’t particularly fervent – church was something we all did as a family, but it wasn’t something (at least the faith and spiritual side of it) that was really talked about at home. In fact, I don’t remember ever having a conversation along those lines. Likewise Church itself was – as I remember it – fairly innocuous from that perspective. Yes, all that bible stuff was there, in the background (and it must have given me a reasonable background and awareness of a lot of bible stories). But largely it acted as a backdrop for Boys Brigade. My dad was an officer in the BB, and I was involved from the age of 5 upwards. That, more so than school, was my social life – it was around BB that much of my spare time revolved, and later (if slightly incongrously) where my first experiences of girls came from.
My first recollection of church being about something that might have a more profound affect on an individual came when I was about 10. Baptist’s practice adult baptism, whereby the believer chooses to be baptised by full immersion when they are able to make a public profession of their faith for themselves, rather than christening of a baby as initiated by the parents, as many other churches practice (incidentally, this still makes far more sense to me, despite my 10+ years as an Anglican). Anyway, around this time my dad decided to get baptised. He never really talked about the reasons behind it, what had prompted it after all those years, or what it meant. And I just kind of accepted it, and didn’t really ask any questions. However, I do remember being quite proud of the fact, and having the wind taken out of my sails somewhat when I told Nigel, one of my closer friends at church, about it, only to find that Nigel himself was also being baptised at the same time. I remember thinking that he seemed a bit young for such serious stuff (but then Nigel was quite a serious boy then – he’s changed a lot since then, last heard of (via. Friends Reunited) as a tattooed ex-Prison Officer and large Snake breeder living in the US). But I don’t remember this, or the actual baptism itself, having any kind of profound affect on me.
As I grew up, into my teens, BB became a bigger and bigger part of my life. Church was there, I did Sunday School and all that, was involved in whatever activities were going on, and was (unawares to me) getting a good grounding in the bible. I remember thinking that at some point, sometime in the future, when I’m older and ready, then maybe I’ll think about doing something about this Christianity for myself. But it didn’t seem that important for now.
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