The Northern Lights of Old Aberdeen
I was licensed to preach by the Presbytery of Edinburgh shortly before graduating in 1969.
My first steps into real ministry were taken at the former Church Extension charge of Aberdeen: Garthdee where I served for a year as a probationer assistant. Garthdee was a settled congregation situated in the heart of one of the “better” post-war council housing schemes. I was very fortunate in my time there. It was a busy charge and the minister, Rev W P Drummond was a hard-working, faithful and conscientious pastor with a visiting list that would make most ministers groan in disbelief.
I was also fortunate in being able to live in the new parental home at Milltimber during my Assistantship.
Mr Drummond gave me the opportunity to take part in all aspects of parish life and freely shared his own experiences. At no time did he “dump” tasks on me. He always gave me my “place” and treated me more as a colleague than as an assistant. He always referred to me as “Mr Gordon” in front of the congregation. I preached at one of the two services every Sunday, which was good practice for me.
I heard from my contemporaries that some of them were much less favourably treated in their assistantships. I have always been grateful to Mr Drummond for the gracious way in which he handled our relationship. In stature, he was a small man, which meant that he was sometimes underestimated. In the things that matter, he was a big man and also big-hearted. I was pleased for him that in his last year at Garthdee, he was elected Moderator of the Presbytery of Aberdeen – not before time. I was sorry that he only lived for a short time after he moved to St Andrews for his well deserved retirement.
When my probationary year at Garthdee came to an end, I was eligible to be called to my first charge. This was both an exciting and stressful part of my life. I was not yet married and, at that time, this was a considerable disadvantage for a minister. Many congregations still expected the minister’s wife to adopt a particular role, including teaching in the Sunday school, presiding over the Guild and generally being a supplier and distributor of bounty and good works. In addition, it was expected that she would maintain the manse like a new pin and provide a 24-hour unpaid administrative and messaging service for the minister.
There were plenty of vacancies at the time although not many congregations were interested in a young bachelor looking for his first charge. I was “heard” by a number of vacancy committees, including a good charge in Carluke and the inner city traditionally evangelical Aberdeen congregation of John Knox (Gerrard Street). Both were interested but neither of them felt that I was “their man”.
Yet, things suddenly moved quite quickly. Slightly to my surprise, I received a call to the newly linked rural charge of Fintray with Kinellar & Blackburn (“FKB”) on the edge of the Presbytery of Aberdeen. I was ordained and inducted into the charge at Fintray Parish Church in June 1970.
The vacancy committee told me that the congregations both wanted change and were looking for a young man, like me, to “stir things up a bit” (their words). I am quite sure that the committee members meant what they said, but it became clear to me at an early stage that they were certainly not speaking for the congregations as a whole. It was not long before I found that the situation on the ground was rather different from what had been presented. There were no parish profiles in those days and cards were not always put on the table.
At FKB, there were two services each Sunday morning, one at Fintray at 10.30 am and the second service, some three miles away, at Kinellar & Blackburn at 11.45 am. This arrangement operated well enough in summer, although the timing was just a little tight. People in Fintray criticised me for leaving the church as soon as the 10.30 service was over, but I had little choice. The journey between the two churches was a source of anxiety in winter when the winding narrow road up the hill to Kinellar Church could be icy and dangerous. Even getting out of the manse, with its long pot-holed drive, could be nerve racking.
Fintray Parish Church was constructed around 1821 to the design of a distinguished Aberdeen architect John Smith. It is a plain and quite handsome building, but far too big for the tiny congregation (20 was a good turn-out) who tended to huddle themselves together in the two side aisles. The result was that when I stood up on Sunday morning, I was mostly speaking to rows of empty pews. I found this both artificial and rather dispiriting. However, any suggestions that folks might move into the centre area and that I might come down from the very high pulpit to the communion table were firmly rejected. I was told in no uncertain terms that people would rather stay away from church than move “their” seats. There was no point in pursuing a lost cause and I soon gave up trying to do anything differently.
With honourable exceptions, I found that Fintray, as a congregation, was quite a hard furrow to plough. In spite of the assurances that the congregation wanted change, the opposite was clearly the case, as illustrated by my futile attempt even to review the seating arrangements. By and large, the small number of people who attended generally wanted the status quo to continue unchallenged. There was immediate resistance to any suggestion that even the smallest thing might ever be done differently. In the popular view, a major part of my role was to be permanently grateful to the congregation for allowing me to be their minister and for the fact that anyone even bothered to turn up on Sunday. It did not seem to occur to many people in the congregation that I could have done with some support and an occasional word of encouragement.
Curiously, the vast majority of the congregation – i.e. those who seldom or never attended or gave any financial support – were equally unwilling to change in any way. They wanted the church to be there for them if and when they might need the ordinances of religion. This was based on the assumption that everything would be just as it had been in the time of their grandparents. Even more curious was the fact that many of those nominal members who were so resistant to change were also among the most vocal critics of me and of all aspects of the church as it was.
A small number of the Fintray elders – and I stress that it was a minority – started what I could only describe as a whispering campaign to ridicule and criticise everything about me and my ministry. I was constantly compared critically with all the previous ministers who, it seems, had been possessed only of outstanding virtues and had been without any kind of fault. This grew very wearying, especially as there was really nothing I could do about it except try to be faithful and maintain my dignity.
I remember well that I wrote and published a short history of Fintray Parish Church.[5] It was received in total silence and no one even acknowledged its existence. In 1971, I suggested that it might be appropriate if, in some way, we could mark the 150th anniversary of the building of the present church. This was summarily rejected as quite unnecessary. Even the suggestion that we might have a Church notice board to advertise contact details and the time of the service, was also rejected out of hand. That was fairly typical.
Of course, there are always two sides to any story. I am absolutely sure that there were faults on my side. None of us is perfect. We all make mistakes and misjudge situations. Possibly, because I was a young man, I was too impatient and maybe somewhat brash at times. I wanted to make things change and for the church to move forward and perhaps I expected too much too soon. Maybe I did not fully understand country ways. But I do not think I deserved the treatment meted out to me by some of the people at Fintray.
Curiously enough, some years after I had left, an invitation was extended to me, instigated by some of the people who had not exactly been among my staunchest supporters, to return as a guest preacher one Sunday. Surprise was expressed when I gave them the response that most people would surely expect.
I want to balance this by reminding myself that there were folks in the congregation who were unfailingly pleasant and appreciative. It was certainly not all negative and all of life’s experiences surely have something to teach us. On the positive side, I remember that a very successful and encouraging Children’s Mission was carried out in the parish by David Tate of the Scottish Evangelistic Council in 1973 at my invitation.
The situation was rather different in Kinellar & Blackburn. The place of worship, Kinellar Parish Church, was a small, pleasant and unpretentious building, reconstructed in 1801 on a very ancient Christian site. There was a more enthusiastic, though small, congregation and, in contrast with Fintray, people were generally much more open and did genuinely want to take the church forward. We seemed, however, to be constantly hampered by a lack of funds and resources.
Kinellar is the smallest rural parish in Aberdeenshire in terms of area and much of it is not strictly rural. The village of Blackburn, the main centre of population, included some council housing. Since my time, the village has greatly increased in size and culture as a result of several private housing developments. Although there had been a place of worship in Blackburn (former Free Church) it had closed some years earlier having been judged unsafe by the Presbytery’s Property Committee although, to the best of my knowledge, the building is still standing, some fifty years later. The lack of a church base in the middle of the village was undoubtedly a handicap.
By and large, my relations with the Kinellar & Blackburn people were positive and they were, on the whole, much easier for me to minister to than their neighbours in Fintray on the other side of the River Don. The church was very fortunate in having a thriving Sunday school in Blackburn, ably led by Mrs Margaret Campbell of Kirkton farm, who was always a great support to me and my ministry.
In 1972, some young folks from the neighbouring parish of Newhills provided a week of mission in Kinellar & Blackburn which was a real time of encouragement and refreshment. The young folk were also supported by some members of Aberdeen University Christian Union, one of whom was Carole Morton, later to become my wife!
I was extremely sorry to learn that Kinellar Parish Church has ceased to be a place of worship and that this pleasant little church is in a semi-derelict condition and on the “Buildings at Risk” register at the time of writing. There are plans to turn it into a private house, even though it lies in the middle of a graveyard. The Kinellar & Blackburn congregation now meets in the new Kinellar Community Hall.
I remember one strangely significant event that took place in Kinellar. The local authority had designated a large field at Clinterty on the edge of the parish as a residential camp site for travelling people. This move was as generally unpopular with local people then as it probably would be today.
My first dealing with residents of the site was officiating at a wedding. The ecumenically-minded travelling people of Scotland expect to be married in a church although they will tend to go to the nearest one available, irrespective of tradition or denomination. I remember that the wedding in question was a somewhat chaotic event but I was perfectly happy to officiate at it and the families involved were entirely respectful.
My second dealing with the travellers was quite different. I was called in by Telephone Samaritans to speak to a young couple at the site who believed they were being tormented by some kind of evil spirit. I have always been quite sensitive to positive or negative “vibes” in places. At one or two points in my life I have actually seen dead people. I sit lightly to all this as the veil between the world of the living and the dead can be very thin.
I do actually believe in what are often called ghosts, although most of these phenomena are no more than left-over energy and are quite harmless. What people see and experience of ghosts is often no more than the equivalent of viewing a clip from an old film. They are not seeing a real person or a current event. It is very rare for a ghost to be evil. I also maintain a healthy degree of scepticism and would always first look for rational explanations of apparent strange noises and unusual phenomena.
However, when people meddle with the occult, they should be aware that they can be dealing with dangerous forces. In this case, two feckless young couples had been playing a game with a Ouija board. Travelling people are traditionally involved in fortune telling, cursing and such like, most of which is hocus-pocus but which can provide a gateway into more sinister phenomena. What might generically be called evil forces can only be present when someone has given them that right, as happened in this case. The couples became frightened at the messages that issued from the board. They actually wrote them down and insisted that I must read them. The messages were clearly of a depraved and evil nature and I will say more than that. I felt quite sickened just reading them.
Since the Ouija session, one of the two couples had been plagued at nights by the apparition (seen by both of them) of a sinister young man dressed in a fringed leather jacket and wielding a knife. This apparition was also accompanied by an unpleasant smell and a strange greenish light. The couple involved were genuinely terrified out of such wits as they possessed between them. I doubt if I have ever witnessed people as afraid as they were.
I will not go into details about what I did except to say that I pretty soon sent this evil spirit packing in the name of Jesus Christ. When I eventually got home, I was shivering and shaking like a leaf. It was as though the experience had temporarily drawn power out of me. Of course, the story was soon round the parish and people looked at me with a new respect for at least a week thereafter!
The manse for the linked charge (the former manse of Fintray) was not exactly comfortable. It was one of several almost identical manses built in the north east to the design of the Aberdeen architect William Smith who also built Balmoral Castle for Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. It was clearly designed for the days when ministers usually had large families and a fleet of servants. The rooms were large and difficult to heat. The building was damp and had suffered from years of virtual neglect.
Living in the manse over the winter was a feat of endurance, especially with the power-cuts of the early 1970s. When, after a few years, the fabric committee took pity on me and decided to install central heating, the oil crisis of the time caused the price of heating fuel to sky-rocket and the cost of central heating even part of the house became prohibitive. I well remember how one member of the Fintray congregation, the wife of an elder, never missed an opportunity to tell me how comfortably well off and highly paid I was! Fintray manse was sold some years ago and the present minister lives in a modern house at Blackburn.
During my time at FKB I made many interesting contacts. I struck up some friendships and especially so with Rev David Searle and his wife Lorna at the neighbouring parish of Newhills. David and Lorna were very tolerant of me and put up with a great deal. It left a considerable gap in my life when David was called to be minister of Larbert Old Parish Church. I missed their understanding and support. I was honoured that David asked me to “preach him in” at Larbert. After an outstanding ministry at Larbert, David moved to a charge in Northern Ireland before moving back to Scotland to take up a strategic and pioneering post as Warden of Rutherford House in Edinburgh whose basic mission is to help people in Scotland to think biblically and theologically.
I also turned my hand to writing and published a number of articles and booklets, some of which I have reproduced in my Autumn Leaves project, although I destroyed most of my material some years ago. I was a popular speaker at Guild and similar meetings throughout the Presbytery of Aberdeen. I also struck up a strange, if brief, friendship with the new Professor of Practical Theology at Christ’s College, Rev Ian Pitt-Watson.
I say “strange” because I do not think when we first met that either took an instant liking to the other. I thought that Ian was rather intense and far too academic for my comfort. But, we seemed to grow on one another and he gradually brought me in to help him with some of his Practical Theology classes. I came to really like and respect Ian and, at one stage, I was in his confidence over a tricky personal issue that was troubling him. I was pleased for him when he was appointed as a Professor at the prestigious Fuller Theological Seminary at Pasadena, California. I am sorry that thereafter we lost touch. We did not have the advantage of email in those far off days. He too did not live to see old age.
On the friendship side, I also became friendly with a Divinity student named Cliff Rennie who was a member of Newhills Church. Cliff and I could not have been more different in many ways. He was about my age and probably cleverer than me. He had a good Second Class Honours degree in English. He had the reputation (which he quite enjoyed) of having been quite a “wild” boy and never out of trouble at school. On the face of it, he seemed an unlikely candidate for ministry. He certainly did not fit the ministerial stereotypes. Cliff used to talk to me about his life for hours on end. I was never quite sure why, except that I listened to what he said and did not pass judgment although I tried to encourage him in what I perceived (rightly or wrongly) as being the “right” direction.
To cut a long story short, Cliff did manage, after a few wobbles, to be licensed to preach by the Presbytery of Aberdeen and began what was to be a two year assistantship at my old stamping ground at Garthdee. Towards the end of his time there, I noticed that the charge of Altnaharra and Farr (“Bettyhill”) where I been on a student summer placement in 1967, had become vacant. I urged Cliff to apply. He summarily declined to do so as he refused in principle to apply for any charge. His view was that the Lord would open the right door at the right time. I am more pragmatic and tend to believe that God helps those who help themselves.
So, I took matters into my own hands and secretly contacted the interim moderator on his behalf. Some weeks later, Cliff told me with great excitement that he was preaching with a view for Bettyhill. I expressed pleasure and feigned surprise at this news. He was eventually called to that charge. He never knew that I had any part in this process. Was I being an interfering busybody or was I an instrument of God’s purposes? Others must judge.
Cliff was married at King’s College Chapel, Old Aberdeen, shortly before he moved north. I was his best man. After some years at Bettyhill, Cliff moved to Larbert Old to succeed my good friend and his former minister, David Searle (who, later, was my best man) when the latter moved to Northern Ireland. After a long ministry at Larbert, Cliff tragically died only a few months into his retirement.
I strongly believe that people cross our paths for a purpose. We always have something to learn from them and we also have something to teach them. We often do not see this at the time. It is part of the mystery of providence.
During my time at FKB, I also used to make regular visits to Rev David Randall and his wife Nan at Macduff. Dave had been a fellow student at New College and we had become good friends. He was to have a long, faithful and fruitful ministry at Macduff Parish Church and I always looked forward to renewing fellowship with Dave and his family.
In 1974, I married Carole Morton, an Aberdeen psychology graduate from Hamilton and several years younger than me. We were married in Carole’s own church, Gilcomston South, Aberdeen by the minister, the redoubtable Rev William Still. David Searle of Newhills (soon to move on to Larbert Old), was my best man. Carole went on to have a successful career in further education teaching before moving over to the University of Aberdeen as a Lecturer in Education. We have no children. We are both now retired and still happily married.
Since 1972, I had been part of the “Crieff Fellowship” an informal gathering of ministers hand-picked by Mr Still who met occasionally for fellowship, discussion and teaching at Crieff Hydro. This gave me a valuable opportunity to meet a number of interesting fellow ministers including James Philip (whom I already knew), George Philip, Eric Alexander, Sandy Tait and Tom Swanson.
From quite early in my ministry at FKB, I became involved in Presbytery committees. At the time, Aberdeen Presbytery contained over 80 charges, stretching from Stonehaven in the south and almost as far as Peterhead to the north. It was an interesting mixture of cit