Barnes in Common

the magazine of Churches Together in Barnes
November/December 2007

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Not so much the parting of the Red Sea but rather the parting of the Red Flag

My road to Christianity was signposted from Marx to Mark

by David McAdam

Like many impulsive Marxists I blindly swallowed the communist antidote to religious opium as prescribed by Lenin - no questions asked. Once digested, it was then just a matter of popping out to the revolution just around the corner. Thank goodness Arkwright was standing behind the counter. I soon learned that socialism didn't come cheap nor were the product and salesmen all that they were cracked up to be. I gradually realised that I was simply a pup among many that was being reared as a dispensable, unthinking dog to serve a self-appointed Napoleon. I was too curious to be subordinated to someone else's equally flawed intellect. For this thought crime I was deemed by the boar to be too dangerous - 'Out,' came the order. Fair enough, 'You can keep yer Marx as well, pal,' I replied defiantly. Cast adrift I eventually slid down aimlessly to the bottom of self- pity.

Enter Mark. He introduced me to Christ, who in turn, and at the right moment, called me to serve Him in the London City Mission. Therefore, after I'd graduated as a mature - me, mature? - student, God finally parted the red flag, as it were, for me and my saved household to cross from near the Firth of Forth to the other side of the murky Thames. That was 1996.
My first five years with the mission were spent working with the 'homeless' an umbrella description for mostly men living in squats, hostels, bed - sits, doorways and shared accommodation. John Lennon once sang that 'Life is what happens to you while we're busy making other plans.' How true. Many of these men had formerly been at the top of their respective tree and had also enjoyed comfortable social status. However, life being the unpredictable entity that it is never asks what we want; it just leaves us with options. Some of these coughed up negative outcomes that hit and then sent unsuspecting men spiralling downwards to the gutter. Without being sentimental, but viewed in this depth, society, in socially off- guard moments, tends to measure such broken lives by the can of lager held despairingly in a trembling hand. This said many a broken life was also the result of bad life choices. Alcohol, drug and gambling addiction or a life of crime, if left unchecked, leads to personal social breakdown.

Working within such a barren social environment made me all too aware of my own vulnerabilities. Concern for my personal safety necessitated a move to a new ministry in 2002. As a London Transport chaplain I visit around 20 to 25 bus depots on the north side of Waterloo Sunset. As well as its spiritual focus, this ministry also serves loosely as an extra arm to already established bus company welfare arrangements. There are some 24,000 staff consisting of various people groups working in different but interlinked grades necessary for an efficient transport system. Reception at each garage is friendly with many a staff member culturally aware enough to know the way to a Scotsman's heart through his closed wallet.

However, a chaplain's way to an individual's heart is through the gospel message. But rather than try and force my way in - as I used to do as a political activist - it is Christ who stands patiently knocking at the door of the soul until he or she opens up (Rev 3:20). Once open, I then sit with that person and sensitively share the salvation message.

It is my prayer that your own particular Red Sea will be parted by God to enable you to cross to a spiritual shore filled with the certainty of an eternity in heaven (John 14:6).

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