I was brought up without clear direction on what to believe. My parents had rather different worldviews — my dad aligned himself most closely with Buddhism and my mum liked the writings of Richard Dawkins — but they encouraged my brother and I to make up our own minds.
At school, I had a Christian friend, Jonathan, who was sometimes the target of my dismissive thoughts about religion. He did cite a book, Who Moved the Stone? by Frank Morison, at the time, which must have sparked some interest, but it wasn’t until years later that I actually ended up reading it as a young adult. My school was nominally Christian — hymns, memorising the Lord ’s Prayer and a moral thought in assembly — but I left school hardened to Christianity, judging it to be boring in practice and arrogant in its exclusivity.
Year out
Aged 18, I took a year out working for British Rail in Derby and set myself the objective of working out my beliefs. Another year-out student, Stephen, was a Christian and we both moved the following year to Cambridge to study Engineering — he was a good friend to me throughout this time. Stephen seemed to belong to another world — he was genuinely involved in his church and he got up early in the morning to pray and read the Bible — so I was drawn to his sense of security and his gentle character.
