DAY IN THE LIFE
Known as ‘the scribbling vicar’, this car-designer-turned-cleric divides his time between classics and the Church
The scribbling vicar, Adam Gompertz
they say that, if you had a Christian upbringing like I did – my mum and dad were both ordained – however hard you may try to run away from God, He will always bring you back. And that’s what happened to me.
When I was growing up, and people used to ask if I was going to follow in my father’s footsteps, I’d always say ‘Oh, chuffing heck, no!’ I wanted to be a car designer, so I did the course at Coventry University like every other wannabe, and I landed a job at MG Rover in 2004. That lasted until MG Rover went bust, in 2005… Eventually I ended up working at Rolls-Royce on its ‘bespoke’ commissions.
The Rolls-Royce post could have been a permanent one, but I’d already been looking into the possibility of ordination training. This involves a three-day selection course, which is pretty intensive – like the SAS, but with less jumping through windows and more eating cake. After I’d been accepted, as a leaving present the Rolls-Royce trimmers made me a vicar’s ‘dog collar’ in white leather, which I wear at the Goodwood Revival along with a crucifix that a very talented sculptor friend fashioned out of two Rolls-Royce spanners.
Since finishing my training in 2013, I’ve been in the diocese of Lichfield. It covers quite a large area and I actually live in Shrewsbury, where we moved when my wife Charlotte took up a curacy – she’s just been made a vicar, too. I like to think that my parish really extends down to Goodwood via Bicester Heritage and Silverstone. My official title is ‘pioneer minister’ and I’m one of a new breed of vicars who are trying to reach out to people with whom the Church hasn’t engaged much in the past – which in my case is motoring enthusiasts.
The REVS project began as a small-scale car show at my local church. It’s a fairly posh area and I wasn’t sure how well the idea would go down, but I found that knocking on doors while wearing a circle of white plastic around my neck and saying ‘Excuse me, but I couldn’t help noticing that your DB9 has the optional Sports Pack’ was a great way to break the ice. The first year, 2015, we had 28 classics, including a Type 35 Bugatti; now we’re up to about 100, which has necessitated a move to a bigger church, the Holy Trinity in Shrewsbury.
One show a year isn’t enough, however, so we also run the Sunday Service Station, a cars ’n’ coffee-type event (with free bacon sandwiches!) at two venues, plus movie nights that feature motoring-related films. REVS is not about preaching at people; it’s more about listening to them, and maybe helping them through difficult phases in their lives.
That’s something with which I’m all too familiar, having battled with depression and OCD through much of my life. OCD is not just about lining up your pencils neatly; it’s a much more serious illness, where you have obtrusive thoughts that compel you to take actions to alleviate those thoughts. For example, you might drive through a green traffic light and something in your brain says ‘You’ve just run someone over; you’d better go back and check’. When I was at uni, my drive should normally take about ten minutes. On one occasion, my OCD meant it took me two hours.
Earlier this year, I was able to help raise a little money for the charity OCD Action, thanks to the generosity of John Lomas at Blue Diamond Riley Services, as part of the team of Rileys and an MG TC that competed in the Monte Carlo Rally Classique. John kindly lent me the MG because my own daily-driver classic wasn’t suitable, being a 1962 Rover P4 100 that is known as ‘Wilbur’.
Wilbur features often in my writings and blogs on social media, which is another part of REVS. I spend much of my time working from home. Mornings begin with the obligatory question ‘More tea, vicar?’ to my wife – I always make the tea – followed by the school run for our son and daughter, after which there’s a spell of prayer and reflection before I begin my ‘Daily Doodle’ of a car illustration for social media. My minister’s role is a part-time one, so I also accept artistic commissions, and I’m very proud to be represented by The Historic Car Art gallery (historiccarart.net).
Charlotte and I both like movies – we’ve just been to the cinema to see Stephen King’s
It: Chapter Two – but she often has church meetings during the evenings, so they’re a good time for me to catch up on my artwork. You’ll often find me sketching at Goodwood or Bicester Heritage – to be the chaplain at BH really would be my dream job. The real privilege of what I do is the people I meet. It’s as though God has let me into a big toyshop and allowed me to play.
‘The Three-day course To be accepTed for ordinaTion Training is a biT like selecTion for The sas, buT wiTh more cake’