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David Lawrence interviews Assembly Moderator
David Peel
It is hard to pigeon-hole the URC’s Moderator
of General Assembly for 2005-2006. Sometimes he sounds like everyone’s
picture of a middle-aged minister who sprang out of northern
Congregational background. Sometimes he sounds like a prophet and a
radical. And sometimes you get the disturbing impression that the two
are not quite so far apart.
David Peel was born in Keighley in Yorkshire’s
West Riding. His parents were lifelong Congregationalists, his father
was a scoutmaster. It was a time when lives which had previously centred
around church for both inspiration and entertainment began to find space
for other interests - and when the slow trickle of members out to more
‘upmarket’ areas was taking its toll.
Looking back David attributes the fact that he
stayed with a church that, despite efforts to adapt, had lost many of
its younger members, to the influence of his parents and to youth
leaders and ministers who believed in him and encouraged him to take
responsibility. Added to that was the influence of the wider church in
the form of Congregational Youth, which allowed him to feel less
isolated as a young person in the church and to discover new mentors.
the big city
The young David Peel did
not set out initially to train as a minister. When he left Keighley for
university in London, he lodged in Congregationalism’s New College but
it was chemistry he had come south to study. David found the metropolis
a daunting and lonely place. He gravitated towards Kensington Chapel,
where there were some familiar faces he had met through Congregational
Youth. It was there that he met a young woman by the name of Pat who had
come to the big city from Wiltshire in search of better job prospects
and who was before too long to become Mrs Peel.
If David did not see himself as a future minister, others were clearly
looking at him differently. At New College he mixed regularly with
theological students. Principal Charles Duthie took an interest in him and soon had
him reading theology books. Before long it seemed that chemistry was
almost a side-interest, though he remains grateful that he stuck out
the course. After gaining his degree
David and Pat travelled north to the Congregational college in
Manchester, where David was to train for the ministry for three years.
That was followed by a year at a seminary in Dallas, Texas - at the end
of which he and Pat faced a tempting invitation to stay on. In the end,
a sense of loyalty to the church in England won out - though he admits
that some people insist he was simply missing cricket, pork pies and
real ale. There are, he observes, no completely pure motives in life. a perfect start
Within days of arriving
back in Britain David found him-self preaching in a local church in
Kettering, courtesy of the Principal of his former college. What he did
not realize was that as far as Toller United Reformed Church was
concerned, their young guest had come to ‘preach with a view’. Feeling
that his feet had hardly touched the ground in England he told the
church he could not make a decision but returned a few weeks later and
the relationship was consummated. Toiler was, he recalls, the
perfect place for a young minister to start out: full of people who
were prepared to ‘have a go’ at anything, a range of ages and exciting
youth work. When he came to think about a move five years later, his
ecumenical commitment suggested it should be to a congregation from the
Presbyterian tradition - which his next church in Stockton quite
definitely was. Ministering to a ‘Scots’
kirk’ was very different. The atmosphere was more formal and
conservative but at the same time the church’s choral tradition provided
the opportunity for worship of high quality, while the kind of members
the church had gathered offered an opportunity for engagement with
people who were crucial in the local community. David found himself
moving from an emphasis on the church itself to one of helping equip
people for their life in the world. It was formative period in
many ways. David and Pat now had two children, who both grew up in
Stockton. It was there that he completed the eight-year slog of his
doctoral thesis on American theologian Schubert Ogden. Looking back,
though a PhD was to open doors into a different future, David still
regrets the fact that it consumed almost every moment of spare time
while his children grew up before his eyes. back to college
With his doctoral thesis
behind him it was natural that the idea of an academic future should
raise itself and the ideal post soon arose. Based at Northern College in
Manchester under the principalship of Jack McKelvey, the Tutor in
Community-based Theology had the task of pioneering a new form of
theological education in which the majority of preparation was to be
done ‘on the job. In 1993, when Jack retired, David was appointed
Principal. It was, he recalls, an
exciting time – steering an entirely new course through the process of
validation by the university, alongside wonderful colleagues. Most
exciting of all was the knowledge that they were at the cutting edge of
theological education in the western world. David recalls presiding with
pride over the graduation of high quality candidates, confident in the
belief that they were better prepared for the task than previous
generations. Even the briefest record of
this period would be incomplete without noting the publication in 2002
of David’s ‘magnum opus’ Reforming Theology. The fact that the
scurrilous rumours – that the book arose out of a evening’s banter (some
of it in the pub) with Westminster College Principal David Cornick -
turn out to be true does not detract from the achievement. What started
out to be a survey of the ‘theology of the URC’ turned into a much more
important project and one which has found a welcoming readership in the
most surprising places in this country and around the world. After seven years in the
job, and despite having been reappointed for a second term David found
himself, for a variety of reasons, becoming restive. Though it seemed
wrong to waste his experience of theological education, at the same time
he felt a need to move back closer to the grass roots. The ideal
combination presented itself when the post of tutor on the ecumenical
North East Oecumencial Course became vacant, which he was able to
combine with working for the Northern Synod half time as their
Development Strategy Officer.
cricket, lovely cricket
Those who have heard David
Peel in person will be aware that he has, in Denis Healey’s phrase, a
big hinterland – and that much of that hinterland is occupied by
cricket. A member of Durham, Lancashire and Yorkshire County Cricket
Clubs he has also been, since his youth, an avid collector of
cricketing autographs. And aside from the pork pies and real ale there
is also his love of classical music and bird watching. To be involved
outside of the life of the church is important to him, and it is not
unrelated to his discovery that people ‘out there’ are more than willing
to talk about Jesus and God – it is only when the conversation turns to
church that their eyes glaze. The theme is vital in David
Peel’s thinking because he passionately believes that every Christian
ought to be asking themselves whether what they do and say both fits
well with the pattern revealed in Jesus’ life, death and resurrection
and, at the same time, cuts ice in the modern world. Theology – critical
reflection on Christian life and practice - does not belong to
professors or parsons but to everybody. ‘The root cause of many of our
problems is that many of our people are not thinking Christians, they
don’t know what it is they would die for. That’s the crucial thing.
Theology is for everyone and we need to produce Christians who can share
their thinking with others, all the while knowing that because they are
human, their thinking will be relative. People who try to share
absolutes are the ones who start world wars.’ As for the church,
returning from his previous, slightly distanced, role David finds
himself a little surprised at how conservative many churches look – not
in their theology but in their lack of willingness to try new things.
But if that sounds like the sentiment of someone who does not believe in
the local church, nothing could be further from the truth. If things are
to change for the better, it will happen first within the local church:
‘Get the church doing the right things and the church will know what its
mission is. Don’t ask how the church should grow, ask how does the
church become a true community, worship fittingly and feed on the
tradition. When you tend to those basic three, the mission happens.’ heaven and hell
The last 12 months of David
Peel’s life have taken him, in his own words, to both heaven and hell. Hell was the discovery,
towards the end of last year, that he was suffering from bowel cancer,
with no certainty how far it had spread. Two major operations followed,
to which his body reacted badly. The pain at times was unbearable.
Heaven came in the
discovery of what was important.
‘I discovered that my real
priorities were people – because people prioritized me. The amounts of
love, support and affirmation I received were completely humbling. And
it was not just from the places one would expect – the wife of an
autograph collecting friend was lighting candles for me in her Roman
Catholic church, masses were being said for me in Keighley. People who
were not ‘of us’ were there for me, and they were God’s messengers.’ He
pauses, seemingly a little embarrassed at being carried away and
something of the theologian reasserts itself. It’s symbolic kind of
language.’ Maybe, but it was also something deeply felt. The last year has confirmed
David in his conviction that the church has much to receive from, as
well as to give to, the world. ‘The wealth of love and concern reminded
me that God is alive and well, well beyond the church. It reminded me
that I’ve become far too churchy. Christians and churches sometimes
believe they have a monopoly on love and compassion – don’t you believe
it’. Many years ago, when David
Peel was working on his thesis, he came across some words by philosopher
Martin Heidegger which have stayed with him: ‘a man grows up when he
realizes that he is a being-born-unto-death’ This was the year when the
words became real. ‘It’s when you actually
face the fact that the likelihood is that you won’t be at the General
Assembly and all of a sudden you grow up. And you realize where your
faith’s got to be; where your trust’s got to be. And following trust is
loyalty. That’s what it’s about.’
The normally well-modulated
voice is thick with emotion. The important things have been said; it is
time to stop.
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