A Blessing In Disguise (42 page)

‘I don't want all this to be the main subject of this meeting,' I say. ‘It's truly not what we're here for. But if you do want to say anything, or ask a question on this subject, then please do so now, before we move on.'

If you had asked me before this meeting to write down the questions which would be asked about my priesthood, the observations which would be made, and to seal them in an envelope to be opened after the meeting, I would have been spot on. All I wouldn't have known would be who would voice them. I say ‘them' though actually they would have boiled down to one question, one observation. I know it by heart. And sure enough a woman puts up her hand to ask it.

‘Jesus appointed only men as his disciples,' she says. ‘He didn't appoint women to work with him. Surely this says that he thought women were unsuitable for such things? Surely he thought to use women was against the will of God?'

‘It's an interesting thing about the will of God,' I say. ‘You can take two people, equally upright, honest, thoughtful, equally learned and clever, both pronouncing on exactly the same subject, but with clearly divided views. One will say, quite sincerely, that what he believes is the will of God. The other one will say exactly the same about his belief. And you can extend that to two groups of people. So if they are both right then we're saying, aren't we, that God tells one group one thing, and the other something different? So don't we have to be rather careful in assuming that we have an exclusive knowledge of the will of God in anything?'

‘That doesn't answer the question about Jesus only appointing men,' the same woman says.

‘I know! And I'm coming to that. Many of the arguments against women being ordained as priests are based on what the world in which Jesus lived was like two thousand years ago. As you know, it was a Jewish world with its own ancient rules. Women had a very low place in life; for the most part kept in the house, not encouraged to have opinions, made to sit in a different place from the men in the synagogue, regarded as unclean when they menstruated. Did you know that at such times any bed a woman slept in, any seat on which she sat, was also rendered unclean, and whoever lay on that bed or sat on that seat would be contaminated until such places had been thoroughly washed, and left alone for a set number of days?'

There were a few sharp intakes of breath, a few squirmings in seats as I said all that.

‘That was the world in which, as you rightly say, Jesus chose men as his disciples. It would have been unthinkable to do otherwise. But God isn't just for the world of two thousand years ago, he's also for today. Would you like to go back to that world? Would you be content to live in the dark ages? Would you like not to be able to go out to work if you wanted, or needed to? Is this how you would like to bring up your daughters? Would you like them not to be educated? To think that their bodies were unclean? Do you actually think there should be one law for men and a different, and more restrictive one, for women? Do you see women as second-class citizens? And if not, why would you, hopefully not any of you here, but those like Miss Frazer and many others, see women priests as second-class priests – or not priests at all, even though the law says they are?'

I stop for breath, and also because I think perhaps I'm saying too much, getting carried away. I didn't mean to go on to this extent, on the other hand it needed to be said! Hopefully once and for all.

‘Hear, hear!' Carla Brown says.

‘Well said, Vicar!' Miss Tordoff says, thus surprising me once again. She is the woman who wouldn't object to babies crying in church. I reckon, if she'd been around at the time, she'd have been a militant suffragette.

There's one other thing I want to say because it's important.

‘Yes, Jesus was a man,' I tell them. ‘But more than that he was a human being. He embodied all humanity, not just the masculine, and still does. And all humanity embodies the feminine as well as the masculine.

‘There's also another point which might interest you, possibly you might already have thought of it. If the Church is to base all it does in every detail on what was done two thousand years ago, then there are other things which need to be looked at, because they don't fit in. For example, at the Last Supper, when the Holy Communion was instituted, Jesus gave the bread and the wine only to his disciples – men – presumably because, in keeping with the custom of the times, they were the only ones there. Are we saying, then, that women should be excluded from taking communion? Did Jesus mean it only for men? I've never met anyone who said
that
, but a totally different kind of logic is applied to women as priests. Though perhaps not by you here, or not all of you.'

There's a murmur of agreement from the majority, but silence from one or two. That's about what I expected, and what I shall have to live with.

‘If I sound as though I'm against men,' I tell them, ‘that's far from the truth! I like men, but I have no desire to take the place of a man, or be like a man. All I want is to be your priest, for which I have been ordained and appointed; to serve you in every way I can, and for that I need your support. And I am a priest of God, not just of the Church. My authority comes from God, which is above the authority of man.

‘And now,' I say, ‘shall we move on? We have a number of things to discuss, in fact if you're to get home to your beds tonight I think we might just have to outline some of them, and discuss them in detail later.

‘The first thing I need to tell you is that Miss Frazer has indeed carried out her threat to withdraw all her financial support of St Mary's. This is no small thing. She has been most generous to St Mary's over a long period and the lack of her support will mean there'll be many things which have always been done that we'll no longer be able to do, unless we can find the money elsewhere. But I'll leave George Phillipson to fill you in on the details. As our treasurer he has all the figures.'

George does just that; clearly spelling it out, leaving no doubt about the effect Miss Frazer's action will have, but also underlining the folly of depending too much on one person. No-one will say it out loud but I suppose we are all aware that, since she has cut St Mary's out of her will, we also stand to lose a sizeable lump of capital at a later date. However, I am not going to go around in sackcloth and ashes because of this.

The meeting goes on until ten-thirty, which is way past midnight by Thurston standards, but we accomplish a lot. Or, rather, we talk a lot about what we mean to accomplish in the future, some of it in the very near future. I read out a long list of what I want us to achieve. I reel off the list, purposely not waiting for immediate comments on any one thing. I hear a few gasps as I go through it and I'm well aware that some of my ideas will be, to say the least, controversial and one or two might never see the light of day, but it's cards on the table time for me and I reckon if I give my whole list (so far!) then we should at least get some of it through.

‘I'm aware it's quite a basketful,' I say, ‘and no doubt you'll have other things to add, so should we deal with what we think is most important first? And what that is I leave to you to suggest. Tell me what
you
think it is!'

There are a few people who remain mute; there are always those who stop at the point where they might possibly become involved and I do wonder why they come to such a meeting, unless it's to keep a rein on those who might be too enthusiastic. There is no doubt, however, what it is those who do have something to say put at the top of the list, and that is the pantomime visit for the children.

‘We can't let the children down!' Miss Tordoff said. ‘Jesus always looked after the little children!'

‘Also it's their reward for coming to Sunday School for weeks on end,' Violet Moore adds. I could think of better ways of putting it, as if Sunday School is an obstacle race you have to get through before you get a prize, though I think, in some cases, it's seen like that. At Holy Trinity we had rather a good outing for the children every year and it was amazing how many children came to Sunday School for a few weeks before it was due to take place, and melted away like snow in summer soon afterwards.

‘We should get on with booking it,' Carla Brown says. ‘It's November already. And the pantomime's always popular. It's
Cinderella
this year.'

‘Which is a great favourite,' someone says, ‘though I'd have liked
Puss in Boots.
You don't often see
Puss in Boots
these days!'

There is a diversion while the merits of favourite pantomimes are discussed,
Mother Goose, Aladdin, Jack and the Beanstalk
, etc., which is brought to an end by Carla Brown who says, ‘Well, whatever we all like,
Cinderella
is what we'll get in Brampton!', and our Treasurer throws a spanner in the works by saying, ‘And how do we propose to pay for it? The church can't run to it, and that's a fact!'

I break in here.

‘I don't, ever, want us to get the idea that finance is the most important thing at St Mary's,' I say. ‘That's a long way from the truth. If, at the moment, it's taking undue prominence then we mustn't let that continue. We're not in the church to be fundraisers! We're here to carry out the gospel, you as well as me. But we have to meet our obligations. We have to keep up the church building in repair, both to use it and to hand it on. We also need money for teaching, for reaching out to others. You might not think that paying for treats for the children falls into this category, but I think it does. It's all part of it.'

‘Can't the parents pay for their own children?' a bold soul suggests. And that does cause a protest! Elsie Jones (she of the Brownies) sitting on the front row turns her whole body around and glares at the man who had the temerity to make the suggestion.

‘The parents have
never
been asked to pay for the pantomime!' she says. ‘The church has
always
paid!'

What she means is that Miss Frazer has always paid. I can see this being a recurring situation.

‘Then the church must pay this time,' I announce. ‘And we'll have to raise the money quickly. May I have some suggestions?'

Several are offered. Unfortunately nothing new or original. I have lived through them all before.

A bring-and-buy sale, everyone to supply items suitable for Christmas presents; a wine-and-cheese party, a raffle – or why not a weekly raffle? A coffee morning, a bridge evening, a cake sale. A sponsored swim is ruled out because of the time of the year, even though it would take place in Brampton swimming baths where the water is heated. A stall in the parish hall every week at coffee time is suggested – selling preserves, pickles, gingerbread and the like. Apparently we have a lady in the congregation who is famous for her gingerbread, people will queue for it. I notice, as I always have, that people will work hard to do these things, will give and will also buy, but no-one ever has the temerity to say, ‘Couldn't we all put in a fiver, or whatever, and save all the work?' That is
not
the way it's done, not in any church I've ever been in. You give of your labours, you profit from the fruit of other people's labours, the money is raised and honour is satisfied. I also have to admit that a good time is usually had by all, and people do get to know each other.

So a small group of people is formed to coordinate these ideas and make sure that, for instance, a coffee morning with home-made biscuits, a cream tea and an evening wine-and-cheese do not all happen on the same day. In the meantime George Phillipson, though a mite grudgingly – he doesn't like paying out – will lend the church's money so that we can make the booking before all the seats are sold out.

‘I will put a few lines in the parish magazine to say, quite briefly, and without mentioning Miss Frazer's name, that the money for this year's pantomime treat is not forthcoming,' I say, though I have little doubt that the reason will get around. ‘But that we will be having fundraising events which I hope everyone will support.'

‘That should do the trick!' the Blessed Henry says.

‘And then,' Miss Tordoff adds, ‘as soon as Christmas is over we must start to think what we'll do about the Whitsun event. The children do so enjoy that!'

Dear Miss Tordoff! I wonder if she would have liked to have had a husband and six children – and by what mischance she didn't.

The time is flying by. Everything takes that bit longer than one thinks it will because there are always byways to explore, though there's nothing wrong with that. These good people in my sitting room, and indeed the rest of St Mary's congregation who aren't here this evening, have a right to know what I have in mind, and to have their opinions listened to. I want my congregation with me rather than me going full steam ahead, leaving them behind. On the other hand, what I don't want is for us to stand still, to have no progress in the faith at all. And I
am
here to lead.

I look at my watch. ‘There's no way at all we're going to be able to talk this evening about all the things I've mentioned,' I say. ‘Some of them will have to wait for further meetings. They're all important, but for now I'd like to mention two matters from the list which in terms of time need to be dealt with soon.'

This is when I see one or two others look at their watches.

‘I won't be lengthy,' I promise. ‘The first is the Sunday School. I've been talking with Trudy and we've agreed that the Sunday School children need to be brought more into the church, to feel part of it, so she and I will work something out about that. Also, Trudy does need more help. So will you think about that, and pray about it.'

In fact, Trudy came to the conclusion, when we talked on Tuesday, that she would carry on a bit longer if she could get more help, and more ideas about what to do.