25 August 2025

In my first charge, I used to take our Youth Circle to discos organised by another youth club leader in a neighbouring church. She began to talk to me about having a sense of vocation to the ministry. Although she worked in the local hospital and was in her forties, I thought it a great idea.

Morag went to University and eventually became a minister. She was called to a Highland parish and ministered there for four years. She died suddenly from a heart attack. People were grief-stricken. Eight hundred people attended her funeral.

Flags were flown at half-mast and shops were shut. Her husband wanted it to be a celebration of her life. ‘Morag loved tartan.’ he said. And everyone wore some tartan to the funeral. There was no doubt about it, Morag’s relatively brief ministry had made an impact on  the community.

Just before she was licensed to preach, Morag sent me a letter in which she shared her excitement about her future ministry. ‘No re-sits, I hope!’ she wrote. ‘Yet more training and supervision to undergo – who says you’re too old to learn!’ And right at the end of the letter there was a lovely little postscript.

‘After licensing I am allowed to use the title ‘Reverend’ and also wear a clerical collar. Other than that I’m still me!’ Significantly enough, the ‘me’ was written in block capital letters and was followed by an exclamation mark.

Morag was more surprised than anyone else to have reached that stage in her life. She was not only surprised to discover that God had called her but that in this calling, her true self had been confirmed and valued and even celebrated.

When she wrote about her exciting new life, Morag didn’t know that her ministry would  be short. Length of days is unimportant. It’s the light shed, the seeds sown, the love shared which make all the difference. And if, by God’s grace, we can make a little  Easter and transform something old into something new then our living and our dying and our rising again will not have been in vain!