When I was in my early teen years I attended a technical college in Perry Barr, Birmingham. I was not bright enough to pass for a grammar school so it was a vocational life for me. In the sixth form all students had to do a research essay as part of their final year and I did one on Warwick Castle. My form master took it to the common room where all the teachers met and they analysed it, and as a result a Mr Coldicot was commissioned to see me. He said they had discussed my future and believed I should apply for the senior art school in the city as I would be missing my vocation as an engineer.
At last someone saw something in me and I returned home triumphantly to my parents, chest swelling with pride, and relayed to them what I had been told. They pondered it and next morning said it was impossible as I had to go to work and add to the family income. Having reached 16 there would be no more schooling. I was crushed, but reluctantly accepted the inevitable; from that moment I hardly ever sketched again.
As I thought back on that episode in my early life I realised that if I had chosen another profession I would have been a graphic artist, and not too long ago devised a logo for a church. It was a simple cross with coloured boxes in each of the four spaces around it. They were coloured red, yellow, black and white. The idea came from the ditty, “Red and yellow, black and white, all are precious in his sight.” There may be someone in the congregation who could develop that.
But, in today’s politically correct world it would be inadvisable to mention any of those colours as someone might be offended. I think someone will always be offended wherever you go and whatever you say; you can’t please all the people all the time. Anyone who speaks on race must be an idiot, so some think, and possibly I’m reaching for that title today!
In 1984 that I came from the predominantly white world of Solihull, into the teeming metropolis of London to Kensington Temple. It was my baptism into a multicultural lifestyle which I have come to love and enjoy and have done for the last 31 years. The years have been filled with interest in the forming of lasting and precious friendships with multicultural people. It is therefore with joy that we have sponsored and positively encouraged a cosmopolitan Sunday once a year with four main streams participating – African, Asian, Caribbean and European.
Until 2013, when we started two services, we had that Sunday about September time [after the holiday period] and a special day it was. It manifested particular cultures – rich and colourful, it kept alive national identities – pride and purpose, it released talent that would be otherwise dormant – gifts of nature and of the Holy Spirit and it showed the diversity yet unity in HICC – difference but not division. The scriptures come to our aid: “And they sang a new song, saying: ‘You are worthy to take the scroll, and to open its seals; for You were slain, and have redeemed us to God by Your blood out of every tribe and tongue and people and nation.’ ” (Rev 5:9).
Our objective in HICC, formulated 27 years ago, is “to build a multinational community that worships God, walks in the light and witnesses unto Christ.” It has stood that test ever since the church started, and now contains approximately 40 nations, possibly more – we are still counting. Across those cultural divides is a fraternity, engendered by the Holy Spirit, which welds people together. We do not emphasise division but unity. We do not try to westernise people but let the Spirit work grace in their soul, and create power in their life. They must be who they are in reality, for playacting is unspiritual. In HICC we allow that and rejoice in their uniqueness. The colour of a person’s skin is totally unimportant; we simply ask, “Are you washed in the blood of the Lamb?”
