Absolute Truths (19 page)

‘
All right, old chap, check the story at your end, but make sure
you keep me posted — and make sure you don’t delay too long or
you’ll have all the hounds of Fleet Street baying at your door. Much
better for you and everyone
else
connected with the Cathedral if those vulgar beasts are tastefully scooped by the
Church Gazette.’

But before he could sketch further details of this nightmare, I
diverted the conversation into another channel.

My afternoon committee meeting should have been of interest to me because it concerned my special subject, religious education,
but by that time I hardly felt capable of concentrating on it. The
committee’s title was The Church of England’s Working Party on
Education in Theological Colleges, known
as
CEWPET (even as
CUPID by the facetious new Bishop of Radbury), and I was the
chairman. The meeting that day was to discuss an interim report
which I was due to make to the Church Assembly later that month,
and I intended to announce my unswerving belief that the purpose
of theological colleges was to train men for the priesthood by
giving them a thorough grounding in Christian history, doctrine,
literature and liturgy so that they could proclaim the Gospel
cogently and conduct a well-ordered service of worship. This aim
might seem very obvious to an outsider, but within the Church
fierce debates raged about reforming the traditional syllabus. It
was all part of the general debate about how far the Church should
modernise itself in order to speak intelligibly to twentieth-century
man.

My opponent that day was inevitably going to be that most
tiresome of my liberal opponents, the new Bishop of Radbury,
whom I now knew was called Sunbeam, and I was far from sur
prised when, true to form, he made a shamefully florid speech in
response to my opening remarks. As far as I could judge, he seemed
to be advocating that we should all return to the educational stan
dards of first-century Palestine.

.. and why not abolish all exams? What’s the point of ordin
ands cramming their heads with facts which are irrelevant to this
day and age? Who cares now about the quarrels of the Early
Church? Would our Lord Jesus Christ have passed the university
exams in theology? Would he even have passed Religious Knowl
edge at A-level? Why, I bet he wouldn’t even have wasted time
sitting the exam! He’d have been out there in the world caring for
people, relating to them, sympathising with them about poverty
— political oppression — sexual injustice — oh, and while we’re on
the subject of sex, I think we should bear in mind the inevitable
ordination of women and put an end to this nonsense about
making the theological colleges into single-sex ghettos like the
Colleges at Oxford and Cambridge. It’s my firm belief that women —’

‘
No, really, Leslie,’ I interrupted, reflecting that Lyle would have been worrying by this time about my blood pressure, ‘before you
start putting cooking and needlework on the curriculum, I’m going
to rein you in. We’re still a long way from ordaining women, and fascinating though it may be to picture Our Lord wearing jeans
and kicking the educational system in the teeth, I think we should
face the fact that if Our Lord were here today he’d preach the
Kingdom of God, just as he did two thousand years ago — he’d
preach the absolute truths which never change, not the current
fashions which are ephemeral. Now, if we can turn to the statistics
showing the decline in candidates for A-level —’

‘
Excuse me, Bishop,’ interposed the one woman on the
committee, a thin woman draped in purple, ‘but I find these
graphs confusing.’

‘
Women can never understand graphs,’ I said, in such a state of
irritation by this time that I failed to think before I spoke. ‘I’ve
noticed that before.’

‘
I must say, Bishop, I find that a surprisingly offensive remark,
particularly coming from a man of your distinction!’

‘
I do apologise,
Miss
Drew ...’ I was indeed horrified to realise
I had been discourteous to a lady.

‘
Now, Charles,’ said the abominable Bishop of Radbury,
‘if
you’d had sociology lessons during your own training for the
priesthood, you’d have overcome the deficiencies of your public
school education and achieved a more enlightened attitude to
women — with the result that such a remark would never have
passed your lips!’

If by an "enlightened attitude" you mean a belief that men and
women are interchangeable,’ I said, ‘that’s nonsense. Truth is truth,
and I’ve noticed that women on the whole are less comfortable
with mathematical information than men. Of course I was wrong to say they can never understand it, and I apologise unreservedly
to Miss Drew for that, but men and women are complementary,
not identical — equal before God but nonetheless dissimilar — and
it’s a liberal delusion to assume otherwise.’

‘
Okay, fine,’ said Sunbeam brightly. ‘Why don’t you exercise
your complementary masculine powers by explaining the graphs
to Miss Drew? I’m sure we’d all welcome a shaft of enlightenment
from our chairman.’

Very fortunately I had heeded Roger’s warning about the graphs
and had managed to work out on the train a way of dismissing
them when the subject of A-level statistics was under discussion.

To avoid controversy,’ I said at once, ‘and to ensure this meeting
doesn’t last longer than the allotted time, why don’t we pass over
the graphs altogether and turn to the statistics on page ...’ I
somehow succeeded in extricating myself from this tight corner, and the meeting ground on until I had the majority of the commit
tee on my side at a quarter past four. After taking care to say a
tender goodbye to the offended Miss Drew I retired with relief to
the lavatory but faltered at the sight of Sunbeam at the urinal.

‘
You know, Charles,’ he said with an unexpected seriousness,
‘as a brother-bishop who wishes you well, I think you should ask
yourself why you’re so keen to cling to these absolute truths of
yours which keep you in such a conservative straitjacket. Personally
I feel liberated by the modern view that everything’s relative and
that there are no absolutes any more — but could it be that for
some reason you find the idea of such liberation threatening?’

‘My dear Leslie, liberals like you can be as dogmatic
as
any
conservative, and since relativism is simply an ideology like any
other, maybe you should ask yourself why you’re treating it
as
one
of the absolute truths you profess to despise! Why do you feel
driven to rebel against order by embracing chaos?’

‘
Good point!’ said Sunbeam cheerily. ‘You answer my question
and I’ll try to answer yours!’

‘
Obviously we must call this skirmish a draw,’ I said, satisfied
that I had won it by pointing out to him that intellectually he was
behaving like an adolescent. ‘By the way, before I rush off I must just ask you this: what can you tell me about a priest from your
diocese called Lewis Hall?’

‘
Hall,’ mused Sunbeam, adjusting his ill-cut, off-the-peg suit.
(Naturally he refused to wear the traditional uniform.) ‘Hall, Hall
— oh,
Hall!
Yes, he’s left the Radbury diocese now, much to my
relief — he’s one of those embarrassing types who fancy exorcism. Apparently my predecessor Derek Preston gave him a bit of leeway
but when I let it be known that I wasn’t standing for any of that
kind of hanky-panky, Hall realised he had to seek fresh woods and pastures new ... Don’t tell me he’s wound up in Starbridge!’

"Passing through" will probably be the final description of his
activities. Was there any scandal attached to him?’

‘
Isn’t any modem clergyman who dabbles in exorcism a scandal
of unenlightenment?’

‘No, I meant —’

‘
Oh, I know what you meant! No, Charles, he’s not a homo
sexual, and if he does run around with women on the quiet he
takes care not to commit the ultimate sin of being found out. Did
he tell you he was divorced?’

‘Yes.’

‘
In that case I’m surprised you’re sufficiently interested to ask
me
about him – although in my opinion the Church should welcome a
divorced clergyman even if he was the guilty party and even if he’s
remarried. We should welcome homosexuals more warmly too. I
mean, are we Christians or aren’t we? Shouldn’t one love and
accept people instead of persecuting and condemning them?’

I said: ‘Of course we must love people no matter what they’ve done, but we mustn’t forget that love should include justice for
those who have been wronged by the sins of others – you can’t
just pretend that sin doesn’t matter! Sin hurts people, sin destroys
lives – haven’t you yourself ever suffered as the result of the wrong
acts of others?’

Leslie Sunderland carefully finished drying his hands on the
towel. Then he turned to face me and said: ‘Yes. But I’ve forgiven
them.’

In the silence that followed I had the odd impression that some
one was listening to us, but when I turned to look at the dosed
door there was no one there.

‘
Well, never mind!’ said Sunbeam, casting aside his moment of
extreme sobriety and becoming cheery again. ‘Someone on the
bishops’ bench has to worry about sex, I suppose, but thank good
ness it isn’t me because I’d rather worry about the Bomb and
South Africa and the starving millions in India. So no hard feelings,
old fellow – God bless ...’ And he pattered off in his cheap slip-on
shoes in order to be radically liberal elsewhere.

Having changed swiftly back into my Savile Row suit, I left
Church House and took a taxi to Fortnum’s to meet Charley.

I was late when I reached the restaurant but there was no sign of
him waiting to greet me. Wondering what had delayed him, I sat
down at a table.

Charley’s church, St Mary’s Mayfair, had been the centre of a
rich, plush parish before the war, but now it stood in an area
where many of the grand houses had been convened to commercial
use with the result that the vicar’s ministry was mainly to the
tourists, hotel staff and office-workers who swarmed daily through
the neighbourhood. Charley was the curate. He had tried working
in the East End of London but had disliked it, so when my friend
the Earl of Starmouth mentioned to me one day in the House of Lords that there was a vacancy for a curate in his local parish I had encouraged Charley to apply for the job. After all, one can
hardly get further from the East End than Mayfair.

Charley had quickly settled down. His aptitude for languages
had proved useful with the tourists and hotel staff. His youth and
energy had attracted the office-workers. His theologically conserva
tive outlook had proved popular with the vicar and the few remain
ing aristocratic parishioners. Soon I had told myself that I no
longer needed to worry about his career – and yet I had continued
to worry, and I worried still. This
was
because although it was
obvious to me that Charley had great gifts as a priest, he showed
no sign of developing a mature personality which would enable
him to
use
those gifts to the full.

He was now heading for his twenty-seventh birthday, but his
lack of control over his volatile temperament still suggested an
adolescent secretly ill-at-ease with himself. All too often he was
high-handed, didactic and tactless. Strong on oratorical fireworks
and teaching the faith, he was weak on empathising with others
and far too rigid in his theological views – but of course the ability
to empathise with others and to be a flexible thinker without
compromising one’s integrity are the fruits of maturity. Too often
Charley seemed to me more like sixteen than twenty-six.

When I had expressed my worry to Jon he had pointed out that
some men take longer to mature than others, but I had begun to think that in Charley’s case the delay was abnormal. After all, I
reminded myself, he had done two years of National Service and
spent three years as an undergraduate; he had been out and about
in the world for some time, so what was now holding him back?
But although I often asked myself this question I found I never
arrived at a satisfactory answer.

For a moment I recalled this mystery when Charley erupted into
Fortnum’s that afternoon and hurried over to the table where I
was waiting for him; slim and small, he looked so much younger
than his years. I cheered myself with the reflection that at least he
was mature enough to dress properly and avoid looking a mess.

His short dark hair was combed and smoothed. His pale brown
eyes blazed with energy. He was breathless, an indication of how
hard he had tried to arrive on time, but he was smiling, delighted
to see me.

‘
Dad! So sorry I’m late, but ...’ After he had produced his very
acceptable excuse for keeping me waiting we shook hands, sat
down and ordered tea. I then asked him about his work, and when
he began to talk about the Lent sermons he was planning I became
so interested that I quite forgot about my arduous meeting at
Church House. I even forgot to enquire why he was so anxious
to see
me,
but eventually, after the waitress had deposited our tea
on the table and promised to return with the hot buttered crum
pets, I remembered to ask what was troubling him.

‘
Well, the first thing I want to talk to you about is Michael’s
behaviour,’ said Charley, grabbing a sugar-cube to stave off his
hunger-pangs. ‘But please don’t accuse me of telling tales behind
his back.
I’m
acting solely with his welfare in mind, and the truth
is his ghastly girlfriend hasn’t been faithful to him. So if he’s crazy
enough to marry her —’

‘He isn’t. The engagement’s off.’

‘
Oh, thank goodness! Actually I didn’t think he could possibly
be serious since I hear on good authority that he hasn’t been
faithful to her either. He’s been secretly plunging around with
yet another girl from that awful Marina Markhampton’s dreadful
set —’

‘
Charley, repeating gossip really isn’t a suitable occupation for
a priest.’

‘
I know, but Michael’s such a chump about girls that I can’t
help feeling concerned — and it’s Christian to be concerned, isn’t
it?’

‘
Yes, but —’

‘
And if I tell you everything you can pray for him too, and that
must be better than just me praying alone. Anyway, this new girl
he fancies is called Holly Carr, and
as a matter
of fact she’s rather
nice — I met her at that party Venetia gave last November — so
maybe Michael will marry her, who knows, but
he shouldn’t sleep
with her first.
It’s quite wrong to treat a nice girl with such absolutely unbridled contempt.’

I said nothing.

‘
Well, aren’t you going to condemn Michael for carrying on
with two girls at once?’

‘Since you know my views on such behaviour I hardly think it’s
necessary for me to repeat them.’ Telling myself that Charley’s
unedifying behaviour sprang from his insecurity as an adopted son
and that any attempt to reprove him for being a priggish sneak
would only make that insecurity worse, I made a big effort to
change the subject.

‘
Talking of Venetia,’ I said, ‘have you
seen
her since she was
kind enough to invite you to that party in November?’

‘
It was her husband who invited me — Venetia herself always
behaves
as
if she finds me repulsive, and every other girl I meet
reacts in the same way. It makes me want to bang my head against
the wall in sheer despair.’

With dismay I realised that I had given him yet another opportu
nity to dramatise his insecurity. Charley had never had what was
nowadays described as ‘a steady girlfriend’. I regarded it as another
symptom of his immaturity. ‘Don’t talk such nonsense!’ I said, trying to sound robust. ‘You may not be classically handsome,
but —’

‘
Actually my utter failure with women brings me to the second
thing I want to talk to you about. I think I’m being called to be
a monk.’

The waitress chose that moment to arrive with our plate of hot
buttered crumpets.