Gordon’s Decision
In his fifth year at high school Gordon and Ziggy discovered philosophy and spent hours discussing the merits of Marxism and Socialism and many other ‘isms.’ They deplored the corrupt practices of Capitalism and the blatant hypocrisy of a Democracy that ignored the plight of the poor.
Seventeen-year old Gordon’s teen-age rebellion manifested itself in every kind of prank and disruption in class. His natural ability and retentive memory enabled him to swot at the last minute and scrape through most of his exams, but his teachers considered him a trouble-maker.
At the same time as he drove his teachers crazy and caused anxiety to his mother and Peppi, another part of him searched for inner peace. He couldn’t put it into words, but secretly he longed to experience again the wonderful feeling which had accompanied his decision to be baptized.
On one of the numerous occasions that he was sent to the ‘office’ because of some misdemeanour, the headmaster lectured him about the results of inattention and the consequences of disrupting classes and how unfair it was to teachers and fellow students.
Receiving no satisfactory response, the exasperated Bill Woodfull finally said: “Gordon, in this life a person is either part of the problem or part of the answer. Which are you?”
Gordon shrugged, but the words lingered in his mind. He continued to get into trouble but the question kept recurring—Which are you? Part of the problem or part of the answer?
While considering school lessons as necessary nuisances that had to be dispensed with as quickly and easily as possible, he regarded the social activities connected with his church as something else.
In a noble bid to keep their young people from worldly evils the church leaders arranged an on-going programme for them. There were picnics and hikes, concerts and campfires, banquets and ball games and many other types of indoor and outdoor entertainment. Alcohol and dancing were taboo at all such gatherings but the mixed groups of young people were allowed any amount of games evenings.
Secretly the youth referred to these team games as “CBC’s.” Games such as Tunnel Ball and Twos and Threes and a host of other similar activities allowed for any amount of Close Bodily Contact, and the boys and girls were not slow to take advantage of it.
There is no doubt whatever that if the adults who sat on hard- backed forms around the perimeter of the hall indulgently chaperoning their offspring, had known just how much CBC those offspring managed, they would have been shocked.
Young Moyes was in the thick of it all. He considered no function worth attending unless it included girls—one girl in particular. All of his peers and most of their parents understood that from the tender age of 13 Gordon Moyes and Beverley Vernon were ‘going together,’ an indefinable term which preceded the American equivalent of ‘going steady.’
Gordon faithfully attended Christian Endeavour meetings at his church, not because of their content but because this was an occasion when he could legitimately fraternize with Beverley. One evening two young men, students at the Churches of Christ Theological College of the Bible in Melbourne, conducted the programme. Their talk was anything but memorable. In fact, with his background of speech and drama lessons from Miss Appsley, Gordon felt that he could have done as well as they did.
However, what intrigued him was that these young ministers-in- training were ordinary people like himself. He saw nothing special about them or their message except that they had a commitment to Christ that he envied.
About this time a part of the Christian Endeavour activities involved studying a Bible character in order to pass a religious examination. Gordon chose to study St Paul and as he read books about the life of the great apostle and the hardships he suffered, Paul’s unswerving faith in Jesus Christ impressed him.
Gradually it all came together in his mind. Halfway through his fifth year of high school rebel Moyes began to take an interest in his studies. His marks soared. His attitude to authority changed and he settled the question that had been haunting him—he decided that rather than being the problem he would become part of the solution.
In a dramatic about-face Gordon surrendered his life to Christ. Jesus became his hero and he decided that all he wanted to do in life was to serve God and society. He determined to become a minister. When he told Beverley of his decision, she looked relieved. “I’m so glad,” she whispered. “Mother worried about you.”
It was impossible for Gordon to go halfway with anything. A born leader he now directed his energies into the right channels. He led out in all types of youth programmes, he enthusiastically testified of his own changed life and urged others to commit their lives to Christ. He told his friends, relatives, teachers, and anyone else who would listen, that he was going to become a minister and devote his life to preaching the gospel and helping others.
While most people appeared happy with his decision and wished him well, others were not so sure. Mr Allinson, who laboured for six years to teach an appreciation of English Literature to Gordon and his peers, raised his eyebrows when he heard the news.
“Do you have a spare period this afternoon?” he asked. “I’d like to talk to you.”
At 3 pm Gordon presented himself at the master’s classroom. The pupils had all gone but an odour of boys and a haze of chalk dust hung heavily in the air. Mr Allinson sat at his desk with a pile of open exercise books in front of him. He looked up when Gordon tapped on the door.
“Come in, Moyes.” Mr Allinson waved him to a seat and began without preamble. “I’m glad to notice that you are doing better in your studies but I’m not so sure about your choice of lifework. I hear that you are thinking of theology?”
Gordon nodded.
“Hmm,” Mr Allinson put his elbows on the desk and placed his fingertips together. “I’ve watched your progress from primary school, Moyes, and I think that you have certain talents which could be developed. Have you considered a career in acting?”
Gordon shook his head. “No, I’ve decided on the ministry.”
“So I hear.” Mr Allinson studied his fingertips, “but I think you should consider some alternatives.”
Then to Gordon’s surprise, Mr Allinson launched into a lengthy list of attractive alternative careers. He pointed out that Gordon had a pleasant speaking voice and a prodigious memory, so why not go to acting school? Radio and the new T V industry offered endless opportunities for young men with his abilities.
Gordon shook his head. “I want to become a minister so that I can help other young people.”
“A worthy ambition indeed. I couldn’t agree more. Why not go to Teachers’ College and become a teacher? Just think of all the hundreds of young people who would come under your influence. You could certainly present a powerful role model for them to copy.”
Stubbornly Gordon shook his head. “I feel called to be a minister of the gospel.”
Mr Allinson looked serious. Again he urged his student to think carefully before making such a deliberate decision. He reviewed the drawbacks of Gordon’s intended calling—meagre salary, not much opportunity for advancement, poor prospects. “Oh yes, a good feeling spiritually, no doubt, but have you considered—?”
A knock at the door announced that the cleaners wanted to get in and sweep the classroom.
Mr Allinson rose. With a sudden reversal of attitude he beamed at Gordon and said: “I’m a practising Christian myself, Moyes, and I’m delighted that you have decided to become a minister. I just wanted to be sure that your conversion is real and that your call is not something that you will later regret.” He held out his hand. “Well lad, you go with my blessing and my prayers.”
They shook hands and a dazed Gordon left the classroom. He looked at the clock in the corridor, 6 pm. Mr Allinson had been talking to him for three hours.
Well might Mr Allinson have sought assurances for Gordon’s decision. A perusal of his “Pupil’s Record Book” for his six years at Box Hill High reveal that for most of the time he was somewhat less than a brilliant student. In his mind school was for having a good time, rather than learning anything. While most teachers took the path of least resistance and left the space reserved for “Conduct” blank, his final term teacher wrote, “Unsatisfactory.”
Now, halfway through his sixth year, with his future goal determined and with the security of his love for Beverley, Gordon settled down to his studies and achieved honours in his final exams.
This accomplishment did not placate his class teacher. Perhaps there had been personality clashes throughout that fateful last term because in the space for “Comments” the teacher wrote in Gordon’s report book, “A boy who possesses undoubted ability, but who must guard against a feeling of self-importance.”
Throughout the ensuing years Gordon Moyes’ enemies have levelled similar charges.
The local Churches of Christ minister, Mr W A Wigney, was not happy with Gordon’s decision either. “You’re too young,” he said. “Too immature. I can’t possibly recommend you, not for several years. Not until I have seen whether your change of heart lasts.”
May was not exactly delighted with her son’s choice of lifework. With her first husband dead and her second son a semi-invalid, she expected that Gordon would carry on the bakery business that she had worked so hard to establish. She didn’t say much when Gordon told her of his decision, but he sensed her disappointment.
Gordon knew how hard his mother worked and he hated to let her down but his determination did not waver. Hadn’t Jesus Himself said: “He that loveth father or mother more than me is not worthy of me.” Matthew 10:37.
