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The more I preached the deeper the conviction became that my life’s work was to be in God’s service. This seemed to be confirmed by the many encouraging reactions to the expositions of scripture that I gave. Yet to act on this conviction seemed wholly out of the question. My general inability to speak seemed to me an insuperable obstacle. I was sure that everyone else would think the same. This was particularly a period of decision. I felt I was simply drifting without accomplishing anything. I knew I was in a rut but saw no possible way to get out of it. I had for long been committing the matter to the Lord but could see no hint of a solution.
By this time I was married and this only increased the difficulties of launching out into some fresh venture which might be regarded as hazardous. It would have put me off completely had not my wife Mary a sympathetic appreciation of my frustrations. We had been married about six months and were both convinced that the matter of theological training would have to be fairly faced and finally resolved. The problem was I could not view the process needed to initiate an application for a course of theological studies without the gravest apprehensions. Knowing my great difficulties in coping with interviews I could not conceive that anyone would ever be convinced of my calling. Nonetheless I had seen an announcement in a Christian Journal that a new College had been formed in London which was interdenominational and committed to the highest academic standards. This announcement did not in itself excite me for it was the period immediately following the end of the war and several new colleges had begun to spring up, many of which were hard put to fulfil expectations. Would the London Bible College be any better? I might have had grave doubts, being of an exceptionally cautious disposition, but for one fact. The principal and indeed the only full member of faculty was a man for whom I had considerable respect. Ernest Kevan had many times preached at our church and I had been struck with the lucidity of his expositions and the dignified and masterly way in which he approached the conduct of worship. I felt certain that with a man of his calibre at the helm there was little likelihood of the College going astray. I felt that the founders of the College had shown remarkable perception in choosing such a man to lead the new venture. During all my subsequent years of association with the College I found not reason for revising that opinion. I decided to consider applying to the College.
I will not conceal the fact that the idea filled me with considerable alarm and I was finding it extremely difficult to reach a final decision. Mary and I decided that we would have decide by a certain weekend in August. At that time we living in a part of Mary’s parents’ house and it happened that over that weekend they were entertaining the preacher who was visiting Bethesda for the day. He was no stranger to the family for he was Cyril Chilvers who was the son of the former minister of the church Tydeman Chilvers, to whom I have already referred. Cyril was also known to me because he had had some contacts with my brother Malcolm in Congo (now Zaire). I chatted to him about my aspirations and also about the difficulties. Cyril had no doubt that I should put in an application and leave the developments to the Lord. It was sound advice. I at once filled in the form that weekend.
A week or two later Ernest Kevan invited me to go and see him. That was a notable occasion for several reasons. He had just taken up residence in an old house in Marylebone Road which was to serve for some years as the new College premises. It had generously been put at the disposal of the College by John Laing who was a member of the board of directors of the College. The building, 19 Marylebone Road, had been for some years scheduled for demolition and during the war had been used by the Home Guard. It was not exactly in first class condition. Indeed my first impressions were of heaps of rubble in various parts of the corridors. One particularly large heap was sprawled across the bottom of the stairs. I was not a little astonished to find that the principal himself not only opened the door to me but proceeded at once to clamber over the heap of rubble to gain access to the stairs, for his flat was on the first floor. This was certainly a wholly unexpected note on which to begin an interview and having followed the scrambling principal who at the same time was profusely apologising for having to escort me in such a manner. The truth was I could hardly have wanted it otherwise for by the time we had reached the settee in Ernest Kevan’s lounge the ice was broken and I felt more relaxed than I had ever previously been at an interview. This was in no small measure due to the principal’s own warmth and kindness.
As we sat on the settee chatting about God’s plan for my life, I realised that God had wonderfully prepared the way. Ernest Kevan had no doubt that God had called me to take up theological studies. At the end of a warm and cordial conversation the principal told me he expected to see me in three week’s time when the first full academic year of the College would begin. There had been full time course since the previous January, when about eight students had attended, but the first full academic year for degree or diploma courses were to begin that autumn. Since Ernest Kevan was so confident in offering me a place I realised there was now no turning back. I could still foresee innumerable difficulties but these would have to be met when they arrived. I have often reflected on the manner of that interview. Normally candidates were seen by a panel but my application had arrived too late for this to be arranged. I could have no doubt that the very informality of the chat I had with Ernest Kevan was overruled by God.
When I resigned my job to take up theological studies, I felt that I was launching on to an uncharted sea. Mary and I had to find somewhere to live and we had to find some way of supporting ourselves. In those days very few students obtained local authority grants and in any case authorities were not favourable to private institutions. Since Mary was a qualified nurse and midwife she decided to apply to the London County Council for a job as a domiciliary midwife because this would include the use of a council flat. She was offered a district in Walworth with a flat in a block of flats in Downing Street off the Walworth Road. This seemed a wonderful provision for us, although we had no knowledge of the kind of district it was. At that time the whole area was somewhat run down and the thought of living there filled us with some apprehension. It was known as a district where people were frequently molested at night, and since Mary would have to be prepared to answer calls at any time we wondered whether it would be safe. The police were ever on the alert for suspicious characters and were especially concerned for the safety of the midwife in that district. At any time she could have called for a police escort at night, but she never did. Instead she travelled the district on her bicycle and never was exposed to any danger. She soon discovered that the roughest characters would never molest her while she wore the uniform as she always did. The fact is they knew she was there to serve their community. It taught us that even those in the habit of molestation could exercise some restraint towards a nurse in uniform.
We stayed in that block of flats during the whole three years that I was a student at the College. We saw a side of life of which previously we had no knowledge. It was a part of London where we would not have been for choice. But having to flavour an environment of tenement blocks with practically nothing to alleviate the monotony of it was an experience that had much value. We began to realise what it meant to be starved of trees and open green areas. Parks were few and far between and where they existed they were minute. It was all such a vivid contrast to life on a Suffolk farm. Indeed, Mary met with people during her visits who had never seen a green field. I have never doubted that God directed us to such an area to broaden our understanding of inner city life. We lived near the famous East Street market and found ourselves again surrounded by a style of life so different from our own background. Yet it was in such an environment that God provided for us throughout those three years. Mary’s job was at times unbelievably hectic as there appears to have been a particular population explosion in that part of London and babies were arriving at an incredible rate. We had trainee midwives living with us for part of the period and this helped to reduce the heaviness of the work. But thankful as we were for God’s provision for us, we were certainly relieved when the time came for us to move on.
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