289 My Story Talk 2 School, Sunday School, and Salvation

Talk 2   School, Sunday School, & Salvation

Welcome to Talk 2 in our new series where I’m reflecting on my how the Lord has blessed my life. Today I’ll be talking about my time at Primary School, at Sunday School, and how I learnt at the age of eight how to be saved.

 

Suttons Lane County Primary School

My first school was situated on Suttons Lane, quite close to Hornchurch aerodrome. On the edge of town, to the south it had open views of the fairly flat countryside on the northern side of the River Thames. It was less than a ten-minute walk from my house.

 

From an early age I was able to walk to school unattended as there were no roads to cross thanks to ‘the cinder track’, a footpath that ran along the edge of what we called ‘the farmer’s field’ where we would see horses pulling a plough to prepare the soil for the potatoes that were grown there.

 

Every day at school began with the teacher marking the register followed by assembly in the school hall where we sang a hymn, said the Lord’s Prayer together, and listened to any announcements the headmaster had to give us. I don’t know how many of our teachers were practising Christians, but the emphasis in assembly was distinctly Christian, as was the teaching in the weekly Scripture – later to be called Religious Education – lessons we had in class.

 

In those days it was a legal requirement for all schools to include Scripture on the curriculum and for each day to begin with an act of Christian worship. So the Christian teaching I received at home and at Sunday School was reinforced by what went on at school. The truth of the Christian message was still widely assumed, even if church attendance had greatly diminished as a result of the war. How different things are today!

 

I can see with hindsight that, although I didn’t realise it at the time, one of the reasons I enjoyed school was that there was no conflict between what I was taught at home and what I was taught at school.

 

And, of course, I enjoyed it too because, unlike some schools today that have misguidedly sold off their playing fields for commercial purposes, our school shared a playing field with the adjacent secondary school, where we played cricket and football, both of which were probably my favourite activities.

 

I played for the school team at both cricket and football, the love of which I inherited from my father who on Saturdays was an active player in both. I loved going to watch him play for the Elm Park Football Club and the Cranham Cricket Club.

 

He once told me he thought that the boys in the secondary school where he taught paid more attention to his Scripture lessons because he also taught them to play football. He was a qualified F.A. Coach, and, incidentally, also told me that one of the boys he had coached played in the England team that won the World Cup in 1966. I still have a box full of medals he won for cricket, football, snooker, and tennis. He was seven times the champion of the Elm Park Lawn Tennis Club.

 

But I think I also enjoyed school because I was good at my lessons. As I’ve already mentioned, I started school at the age of 4 in September 1943. Educationally I had the distinct advantage that my father was a teacher and had taught me to read and write before I went to school, and so by the time I was 7 my parents were told that I had a reading age of 12.

 

In saying this I hope I don’t give the impression that I’m boasting. I learnt long ago that true humility is not a matter of pretending that you don’t really have any talents or gifts, but acknowledging that what you do have comes from God, and that all the credit is his and not ours. If I have a good brain, it is God who gave me that brain, and I have no right to boast about my academic achievements. But that does not mean that I may not mention them! As God said to Jeremiah:

 

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations (Jeremiah 1:5).

 

Before we were born, God had a purpose for each one of us, and he created us with the abilities we would need to fulfil that purpose.  It’s our decision as to whether we fulfil that purpose or not. So I thank God for the good brain he gave me and for parents who encouraged me to use it.

 

And if I tell you that every year I attended that school I came top of the class, you’ll understand that my reason for doing so is to show how, without my realising it, he was guiding me onto a pathway where academic achievement would be an essential part of the work that he had planned for me to do.

 

Sunday School and Church

But school was not the only place I was learning. Probably the most influential source in my education was what my parents taught me at home. But more of that in a moment. I was also learning at Sunday School and at other church related activities like Lifeboys (the name then given to the junior section of the Boys’ Brigade).

 

My first reaction to Sunday School was that I didn’t like it! I was only 4 and I’m grateful to my parents that when I told them so they did not force me to go. A little later they suggested very gently that I might like to try it again, and this time I enjoyed it. Because of the wisdom they showed in this matter, I always knew that attendance at Sunday School or Church was to be my decision. No one could ever say that I only went because my parents made me go.

 

And so I went of my own free will, and year after year was given a book as a prize for good attendance. The annual Sunday School Prize Giving Sunday was a big event, and many of the parents who were not church-goers came to see their children receive their prizes.

 

Sunday School, which in most churches took place in the afternoon, was a big thing in the 1940s and 1950s. Even parents who did not come to church wanted their children to be taught about the Bible – or they were just glad to get a break from the kids on a Sunday afternoon! We were told that our church had the largest Sunday School in Essex with up to 400 children attending each Sunday. My mother was a Sunday School teacher and my father taught the teenage Bible Class, but more of that in the next talk.

 

Unlike most of the children who attended Sunday School, I also attended church. I think my first experience of church was travelling on a Sunday evening up to London to attend the church where my parents had attended before the war. We travelled on the London Underground railway on the District Line between Elm Park and Bromley stations, and I took an instant dislike to London because at that time much of that area was damaged, dirty, and quite smelly.

 

The Tab which formerly, I was told, had up to a thousand in its congregation, had been bombed in the war and, as far as I know was never rebuilt. Many of the people’s houses had been destroyed and, rather like my parents, they had moved away from the East End of London. Consequently the meetings I went to as a young child with my parents were attended by at most a few dozen people and took place in the upstairs room of a pub, which I seem to remember was called The Five Bells.

 

The meetings weren’t really suitable for children, and I didn’t really enjoy the fuss that all the adults made of me. One thing I did like was the minister, Mr Tildsley, referring to me as King David and perhaps that sparked in my young heart a desire to copy my namesake and achieve great victories for God.

 

Fortunately, as far as I was concerned, my parents soon decided that it was time to settle into a church that was nearer to where they were now living, so we started attending Elm Park Baptist which was a relatively new church as most of the houses in the area, like ours, had only been constructed in the mid to late 1930s.

 

It was a warm friendly church with lots of activities for children and young people and, although I couldn’t understand all that the minister said in his sermons on Sunday evenings, it’s clear, looking back on it, that it was all influencing my mind in the right direction, leading me ultimately in my teens to give my life to Jesus. But that’s a subject for our next talk. However, before we get there, it’s important that I tell you how, at the age of 8, I came to understand how to be sure I would go the Heaven when I die.

 

The way of salvation

I remember how, at the age of 8, I was sitting on my father's knee when I asked him,

 

Daddy, how good do you have to be to go to Heaven? 

 

 

I think the question was on my mind because of something that was called David's Good Boy Chart. This was a chart my father had made rather like a calendar with a space for each day for him to stick on it a coloured sun or moon or star, depending on how my behaviour had been that day.

 

I think he had made it because my mother had been having some problems with me during the day while he was at work. When he got home, my mother would tell him how I had behaved that day and an appropriate sticker would be applied to the chart. If I'd been good, it would be a sun, not so good, a moon, and so on.

 

I think I must have been wondering how many suns I would need if I wanted to go to Heaven! My father explained that it isn’t a question of how good we are, because none of us is good enough to go to heaven. That's why Jesus came to die on the cross to take the punishment for our sins so that all who believe in him will have everlasting life.

 

Then he asked,

Do you believe that, David?

 

I replied,

Yes, of course I do.

And why do you believe it? asked my father.

Because you have told me, I said.

That's a good reason, he said, but one day you will come to believe it for yourself.

 

That's the first time I can remember that I was consciously aware of the truth of the gospel. I suppose that, like many who have been brought up in a Christian home, I can't put a date on when I first believed. It feels as though I have always believed. I cannot remember a time when I did not believe.

 

I used to be concerned about this, especially when so many Christians can remember a specific date. But then I heard an illustration that was very helpful. I never forgot, and will never forget, the date when Eileen and I married. But even if one year I had forgotten it, I would never have forgotten that I was married and who I was married to!

 

The point of the illustration is this. The date that my married relationship with Eileen started was relatively unimportant compared with our relationship throughout our married lives. The same applies to our relationship with Jesus. What matters is not when our relationship started, but whether I am in relationship with him now. Am I trusting him now for the forgiveness of my sins and my home in heaven? And if I am, then the exact date it all started is relatively unimportant.

 

So I cannot remember an exact date when I first believed but I can remember the day when I decided to give my life to Christ. And again, it was through my father that I came to that decision. But we'll come to that in a later talk.