Reverend's a Heaven's Angel (From Stroud News and Journal)

Reverend's a Heaven's Angel

THERE is no doubt in Mick Wright's mind that Jesus would have ridden a bike. But he is still unsure what kind of machine the Holy Saviour would choose.

"If he was ecologically minded he probably would have ridden a small-engined machine, like a 125cc," he mused.

"But thinking about it, he would probably have had a push-bike at most."

A motorbike riding, antique dealing, former naval engineer does not quite fit the image of your average rural vicar.

But 53-year-old Rev Wright - recently ordained as curate for Brimscombe and Woodchester - is not your typical man of the cloth.

Born in Essex, he moved to Horsley when he was 16 and his parents bought the village post office.

A committed Christian, he says joining the priesthood was always at the back of his mind.

"I have always wanted to make a commitment to the Church and I have no idea where that came from," he said. "It was just something within me.

"It wasn't an instant decision. Some people have their Damascene conversions but for me it was a gradual growing in faith."

So with his donning of the dog-collar still around 30 years off, Mick decided his future lay on the briny deep.

He joined the Merchant Navy as an engineer and spent the next eight years bobbing around on oceans from South America to Taiwan and New Zealand.

"Those years were the foundation of my life," he said. "At sea you have to work with all sorts of personality types and social backgrounds and it is physically very hard work.

"We were only 19 or 20 and were trusted with thousands of pounds worth of cargo. That was fantastic for my self-confidence.

"There were tensions and sometimes fisticuffs and I was probably as bad as the next man.

"But people did listen to each other as well."

If a life on the ocean wave was a strange beginning for a priest, his next job created another strange twist.

After leaving the Merchant Navy, marrying his wife Fanny and having his two sons Martin, 25, and Paul, 23, he set himself up as a Lovejoy-esque antiques dealer in Minchinhampton. The Lord moves in mysterious ways, indeed.

"We had already started wheeling and dealing a bit - it was something we had in common," said Mick. "We looked at this place and I just felt it was the place we had to be in.

"I used to love going to fairs when I was in school. It always used to amaze me that people failed to spot hidden treasure.

"I suppose that helped reawaken in me the reality of faith. There is a side that is visible in all of us but there is another side that is a measure of everyone.

"There are people who you can find unseen treasure within."

That's the next sermon sorted out, anyway. And although he was only ordained as a curate at the beginning of the month, it seems Mick is already warming to his role.

"What is most important is to try and love people in the same way that Jesus loved people," he added.

"That is not to say he never shouted and never got angry. In fact I think he reflected God's perfect parent."

He even finds a great deal of comfort and satisfaction in the most difficult job a priest comes across.

"I think funerals are wonderful," he said. "You walk into someone's life for a week and grief does unmask people - you are put in a really privileged position.

"It is a great opportunity to help people and be with people. I value it immensely."

But aside from the church services, it is getting out and about in his parish, often on his mighty metal steed, that he considers crucial to the job. "The church is much more than Sunday morning, although that is vital," he said. "I do a lot of work out and about visiting people - often not as much as I would like - and sometimes they come to me because they have burdens they want to share."

And although the sight of his dog-collared figure roaring along the road has raised a few eyebrows, he thinks it is the perfect mount for a man of God.

"It does cause a few comments but I know there are a fair few reverends, and I think a bishop, who ride bikes," he said.

"It is a great feeling, almost like you are flying. And on a bike you get a real sense of the areas you are going through. When you are in a car the world goes by like it is on a TV screen."

Already warming to his new role, Mick obviously intends to take it seriously. But he says, a priest should not take himself too seriously.

"Where it goes wrong is where you start to be self-righteous," he explained. "That is not what religion should be about.

"We all have duties to perform before we have rights to claim."