First Contact

Recently I was celebrating the birthday of my dear old mother and I do mean ‘dear’, and I do mean ‘mother’ and I do mean …

So I was on about her and in reflecting the significant role she plays in my life since the beginning I recalled again that she was the first contact I had in life.  I don’t need to ask, I can just feel it in my being that the first days of my life were spent closely kept by my mother.  In as much as a medical operative may have delivered me and wiped me off and cut me umbilical cord, my first real contact with humanity in its good and not so good was my mother.  She was my first contact.

I was thinking about first contact in regard to my new job. I really give God thanks for first contacts.  When I was doing Mission Shaped Ministry training a few years ago, I recall one session we did which covered the bit in Matthew where Jesus is instructing his disciples how they should go about their town by town speaking engagements.

One aspect that was crucial was ensuring they stayed with a person and if that person was hospitable they would let their peace rest in the place.  This key first contact was the person of peace and it would be the base of operations.  It was a clear indication that you were seeking to integrate in the locality by being among the people, so that first contact was crucial.  So if that person wasn’t so hospitable and indeed the town was hostile then you could take your peace back, as it were, shake the dust off your sandals and move on.

I have no recollection of requiring the sandals dusting procedure, although I’m sure one or two experiences would fit the bill.  What I do remember very well are those people of peace – the first contacts who have allowed me to become better integrated in whatever new environment I was entering, whether at work, or university or even geographically.

The university experience is a particularly strong episode.  I remember my first day there.  Bear in mind this was the first time I would be leaving the comforts of my home to be living in a strange setting, with strange people and strange new ways of doing life.  I don’t recall if I was all that nervous, I’m sure the excitement of ‘independence’ and ‘money’ overcame any issues I may have had.  Still, it was new, it was strange and I didn’t really know how I was going to cope.

As I walked through the door of the flat in which I was scheduled to dwell in the university’s hall of residence I looked down the corridor at the doors that denoted the rooms of my flatmates. I would be sharing this flat with five other people, none of them were there at the time, with the exception of a rather strange gangly figure who obviously had the room in the far left of the corridor.  Long hair which veered to ginger from blonde but wasn’t particularly carrot-like.  Thin he was, fairly thin indeed and he was settling into his new digs just as I was.  He greeted me in a friendly enough manner and I reciprocated as best as I could whilst still focussing on getting my parents through to my own room, which was the nearest to the kitchen.  (Not that this would be any help to my domestic prospects.)

Once my stuff was put in the room and I had packed off the parents to make their journey home, I got some unpacking done and then linked with the other new guy.  He remained friendly and it turned out we had the same lecture on a Monday evening – Democracy with Anthony King who was famous enough to be on the BBC coverage of general elections.  The friendly guy took me to an adjacent halls of residence bar and looked out for me.  Indeed he went on to look out for me during the Freshers Week and beyond that.  A sufficient rapport was established from then for me to hang around with him for the initial months of our time together.

It was he who introduced me to the world of student radio as he got involved because of his massive passion for music reflected in an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the music scene.  (OK it wouldn’t be Encyclopedia Britannica, but it was still impressive.  OK it was impressive to me … at the time.)  I looked up to the guy as a help in getting integrated in the university world and it was through him that I was to meet another guy who would turn out to be my best friend over those university years.  Indeed the three of us would hang around with each other fairly often and in the second year of university we linked up together and along with the best friend’s flat-mate we got ourselves a house to rent for that year.

His hospitality extended to letting me sit in on his radio shows and then giving me a speaking part and then eventually encouraging me to do a show of my own and get really interested in the whole radio business.  Our student radio station was overhauled in our time there from a typical rag-tag operation into a serious student radio station that gained an FM license for a month enabling us to broadcast across the area beyond the campus into the homes of regular, normal people.  That was a big deal.  What was an even bigger deal was that the prestigious breakfast show slot was given to the man who introduced student radio to me … and me!  What an honour, what a responsibility.  All thanks to this guy.

Things were not always hunky-dory, there were downs as well as ups, but my university days as challenging as they were, would have been a whole heap worse if it wasn’t for this first contact opening the doors for me to find a comfortable in the university scheme of things.  He was a priceless first contact and I’m really glad that despite some issues, when we graduated we kept in touch.  What’s been of use as well is that he blogs as well albeit typifying the micro in micro-blogging by keeping his entries real short.

Not only did we keep in touch, but now 14 years after that first contact he lives with his wife in nearby Bolton.  That is brilliant because it means that he’s not so far away to continue the socialising bit.  It was a huge honour to be invited to his wedding at the end of last year, and it was even more pleasing to have him invite me out to the cinema as well.  Being just as much a good first contact in the strange new world of these here parts as he was in Essex University all those years ago.

Life has subsequently proven that first contacts are essential to fitting in relationally in any new area and Lloyd – for it is he of whom I speak – was arguably the best example of that.  I remain ever so grateful to God for him.  I am happy to call him friend and I’m also happy to know that he was my person of peace – my first contact.

For His Name’s Sake

Shalom

dmcd