CHAPEL LIFE

I have loved hearing Reptonians talk in Chapel this year about aspects of their school life and where they think they are in their journey of self-discovery. Whenever I ask a Reptonian to do this, I’m commonly asked, “Do I have to mention God?" My standard reply is, “No, because God is in every experience we have and He’ll just delight in you celebrating the moments He has given you.”

“Suddenly, my time on the pitch was occupied by voices in my head telling me that, even though I trained six days a week, everyone knew I wasn’t a real hockey player. They made me shake, take fewer risks, and told me I was so bad at hockey it was embarrassing for me to still be trying. Relationship status: Regretfully very single. My total uncompromising focus on one thing meant that when it failed, everything failed. Soon I was questioning whether I in fact had enough intelligence to pass my GCSEs and if all my friends secretly hated me.”

The Lent Term also saw family and friends of Harry Lownds (OR) gathered back at Latham, his old House, to remember him and to plant a tree in his memory. His father Matthew, mother Becky and sister Evie (OR) were there, and before the tree-planting, Matthew thanked everyone for being with them and said:

Ella B (U6M) gave a particularly thoughtful reflection in the Lent Term on the role that hockey has played in making her who she is today. She began her talk in Chapel with the words:

“If hockey and I had a relationship status, it would be 'It’s complicated'. We definitely have love for each other, but after a long season we usually end up on opposite sides of the room, avoiding all eye contact and conversation.”

She went on to describe how over two years she suffered from a back injury, two England rejections, an indoor final on the bench, and the words “You’ll just never be a skilful player.”

This led to a time of soul-searching for Ella. She realised she wasn’t destined for the Olympics and needed to redefine herself, which she did by deliberately making herself open to new interests. She found a love of poetry, debating, biology and music, forming valuable new friendships with aspiring artists, actors, biochemists and philosophers “who don’t know a lacrosse stick from a hockey stick.”

“Through pursuing a broader range of interests and adding balance to my life, I have been able to rebuild my confidence and gain a truer picture of myself. This season has been my most joyful and successful yet, having repaired my relationship with hockey by removing its power over me. I am still striving just as hard to achieve my goals but now in a sustainable way, with hockey positioned as an important part - but just a part - of my identity.”

“So, whilst hockey has brought me so much, its most meaningful gift has been courage – to redefine myself, to pat my own back, to meander through all parts of spirit, even those parts that are as of yet unfamiliar. Relationship status: Unlimited. Thanks be to God.”

“This school meant so much to Harry and so it seemed so right that we return here to think of him and plant this tree. He was a dreamer. This is a chestnut tree just like the two chestnut trees outside Repton Prep. I can see Harry sitting beneath them with a book, letting the world go by.”

After coffee and cake, the family gathered again around the tree and we said this little prayer:

“Heavenly Father, we thank you that Nature brings us closer to you, the source of all that has life and is beautiful. May this tree grow to remind us of your glory and comfort us that, in Christ, we are forever bonded with those we love. Amen.”

These two events happening in Repton within days of one another made me think of something I once read by Rabbi Jonathan Sacks:

“In life we are challenged by experiences and events that shake our sense of self and make us ask, ‘Who am I now? How can this new experience be incorporated into who I think I am?’. But with God’s help I don’t think that there is ever anything we can’t reframe. There is no experience that God can’t use to bring us closer to him.”

I think it was significant that Ella, completely unprompted, ended her talk with "Thanks be to God." I think that it was significant that as Harry’s dad left, his last words to me were about how his Christian faith had saved him. When I look in Chapel at the memorials to our three Archbishops of Canterbury, I think to myself that Repton has a special place in God’s plan.

Not the least of its joys was being back on proper expeditions in remote terrain after the necessary compromises of Covid, but this year offered much more than just a return to more familiar routines. More Reptonians (34) gained their Silver Awards this year than in any other year in the School’s history; for the first time in the modern era, every single participant completed the Silver Practice Expedition; this year also saw the second-highest number of Lower Sixth Gold participants embarking on the Award (32).

It should not be ignored, either, that those who completed the Gold Expeditions, having completed Silver ‘Covid Expeditions’ around Repton, had never experienced genuinely Wild Country, nor the altitude-gain that this entails; they were, however, unfazed by this, just as they did not blink in the face of the ice to which they woke up on the inside of their tents on the morning of Tuesday 19th April. More (and, by ‘more’, I mean ineffably so) impressive was the fact that, having survived the most extreme weather conditions I have ever encountered on a DofE Expedition, the Gold teams gathered themselves, demonstrated nothing short of textbook-campcraft, and executed as near-flawless an Assessed Expedition as anyone is likely to witness.

For all the accomplishment of the collective achievements, however, it is difficult to ignore individuals. It will be a long time before I forget: Izzi E and Julien B literally pulling their peers up the last of the 2309 feet of Buckden Pike; India B and Issy A, showing remarkable leadership and brutal efficiency in the most challenging of circumstances; some of their teammates blankly refusing to give in to very real illness; Archie R, having opted to carry a crazily heavy pack on both Expeditions, and evincing on the first morning of the Assessed incredulity that people actually do this sort of thing for pleasure, powering through, and achieving more than even he had every thought was possible.

Last, but certainly not least, Will G, the very definition of sanguine equanimity, with relentless cheeriness, supporting his peers to achieve what they were convinced was beyond their reach. And that, really, is what it is all about.