Absolute Truths (42 page)

At the dining-table the girl overcame her shyness and revealed an
intelligence and spontaneity which I found charming. Living with her mother in London she had reached the top form of St Paul’s
Girls School and was studying English literature, French and Ger
man. She played the piano ‘but not very well’. Her mother wanted
her to be a debutante but Rachel ‘wasn’t too keen’ because even
though the formal presentation had been abolished, the frenetic
social life of the Season seemed ‘all rather shallow’. Mrs Hall, it
transpired, lived in a small house in Belgravia and did her shopping
at Harrods. Unable to imagine Hall being married to this sort of
woman I found myself experiencing a renewed curiosity about his
background.

‘Whereabouts do you come from?’ I demanded.

‘Sussex,’ he answered, but said no more.

‘
Daddy was brought up by an uncle and aunt,’ said little Miss
Rachel, unable to bear this reticence. ‘They had a super house near
Chichester which is now owned by the National Trust.’

‘
As you can imagine,’ said Hall to me, ‘all that has no bearing
on my present life.’ But obviously it was this monied background
which gave him the freedom to work for the Church without
taking a salary.

‘
Were your family Anglo-Catholic, Father Hall?’ Charley was
enquiring.

‘
I’m sorry to say my uncle and aunt had no interest in religion whatsoever, but my great-uncle ensured that I was educated at
Starwater Abbey.’

Rachel said: ‘Daddy’s great-uncle was –’

– the family eccentric,’ interrupted Hall. ‘I always find him
much too exhausting to discuss.’ I deduced that this great-uncle
represented the family connection with the Fordite monks, the
connection which the Abbot-General had mentioned in his refer
ence, but before I could speculate further Hall remarked to me: ‘I
wish all those people today who dismiss Anglo-Catholicism as
effete could have experienced the Fordite ethos at Starwater in the
1930s. Cyril Watson ran the school like a military academy.’

‘
I knew Father Watson,’ I said, wondering if this was the
great-uncle, ‘but not well. I knew Father Ingram better.’

‘
So did I,’ said Hall, and at once I was sure I had solved the
mystery. Francis Ingram, the present Abbot-General’s predecessor,
had come from a monied, aristocratic background. ‘Francis was
assigned to take me for walks in the park,’ Hall was saying, ‘when
I spent my school holidays at the Fordites’ London house.’

‘
Like a little dog!’ said Charley amused.

‘
Jon Darrow often mentions Father Ingram,’ I said. ‘They were
good friends.’

Hall said: ‘Is it true that Father Darrow’s a recluse nowadays
and sees no one? I was hoping our paths would finally cross.’

‘
You might try writing to him. I’m sure he’d be intrigued to
hear from anyone who was a protégé of his mentor Father Darcy.’

‘
He loves to talk about Darcy!’ said Charley. ‘He wallows in
blissful nostalgia as soon
as
the name’s mentioned!’

‘
In that case I accept I’m not meant to meet him,’ said Hall
dryly. ‘My idea of fun quite definitely doesn’t include looking back
at Darcy through rose-tinted spectacles. But tell me more about Father Darrow, Bishop! He must be very old – is he still in good
health?’

As I began to talk of Jon’s eremitical way of life Charley decided
to hold forth to Rachel about music. I longed to tell him to be
less dogmatic, but the girl, listening wide-eyed, still seemed fasci
nated by his masterful manner. Halfway through the meal I heard
her exclaim: ‘It’s so nice to find someone who can express his opinions clearly!’ and I had a sudden vision of her usually sur
rounded by callow youths who could only communicate in the
monosyllabic fashion which was so widespread among the younger
generation. No doubt Charley, now nearer thirty than twenty,
seemed thrillingly sophisticated to her.

Meanwhile my housekeeper had been excelling herself in the
kitchen. We enjoyed celery soup (a triumphant contrast to the pale
liquid I had encountered at the Aysgarths’ table), a fish pie in which
cod, glorified by shrimps in a cream sauce, luxuriated beneath a
crisp thatch of mashed potato, and finally apple crumble, hot,
crunchy and accompanied by the smoothest of custards. Making
a fresh resolution to eat properly I was tempted to attribute a large
part of my recent debility to inadequate nutrition.

After the housekeeper had brought coffee to the drawing-room
I said to Charley: ‘Why don’t you play Rachel some records?’ This
pre-arranged suggestion was made to enable me to talk to Hall
about the future.

‘
What a good idea!’ said Charley brightly, and commanded
Rachel to accompany him as if she were a small child in danger
of getting lost. They departed with their coffee. As the door closed
I offered Hall a glass of port, which he declined, and a cigarette
which he eyed with longing before saying: °Thanks, but not when
I’m in uniform.’

I deduced that someone had tipped him off about my old-
fashioned views on the subject. Giving him no chance to mourn
his decision I closed the cigarette-box and said abruptly: ‘Very
well. This is your golden opportunity – make the most of it. How
would you use that dying church?’

Hall began by giving his views on the ministry of healing. He
insisted that the healer should be a mere channel for the Holy
Spirit; he denounced all healing ministries in which the healer
allowed the cult of the personality to flourish; he condemned the healers who ignored the fact that humility and a devout life were
essential if they were to avoid corruption; he rejected the idea of
a ministry which involved regular, large, emotional services of
healing; he insisted that although healing centres might accept
donations for the furtherance of their work, the people who
worked there should never charge the sick for their ministrations,
and he recoiled from the notion that his own services should ever
be marketed in a commercial manner.

Then having erected this strictly orthodox framework for my
approval he became more original. Highly sceptical of instant
wonder-cures, he thought healing took place best over a period of
time within the quiet, undramatic context of a prayerful com
munity.

‘
In the mental hospital where I worked,’ he said, ‘we had a small
core of praying people – both staff and patients and the daily
mass. I did practise the laying-on of hands, and also anointing
where appropriate, but it was all done in an atmosphere devoid
of melodrama. The aim was to make each patient feel cherished
and cared for, and the aim was expressed through counselling and
befriending. I also introduced music therapy, because music often
speaks to people who can’t be reached by words. I wanted to
introduce painting as well, but the occupational therapists decided
I was trespassing on their territory and they made a fuss.’

‘
Was that when you decided you’d be better off in a less narrow
environment?’

He said it was. ‘And
as
soon
as
I tried to
visualise
the ministry
outside the hospital,’ he added, ‘I saw myself in an Anglo-Catholic
parish setting with a daily celebration of the mass and a congre
gation who would pray for the sick. I would still be healing in small
groups but there would be more opportunity to be innovative –
and certainly more opportunity to help a wider range of people.
I thought how I could train volunteers to share the task of listening
and befriending – that was an idea I got from Chad Varah’s
Samaritans, of course ...’

He went on to draw the vital distinction between a cure and a
healing; a cure signified the banishment of physical illness but a
healing could mean not just a physical cure but the repairing and
strengthening of the mind and spirit to improve the quality of
life even when no physical cure was possible. ‘... so the role of
befriender, providing strength through the alleviation of loneliness
and fear, can be in its own way as vital as the role of the doctor
– although I would hope to have doctors too at my healing centre
eventually, because orthodox medicine and spiritual healing should
be complementary and not opposed to each other ...’

He began to describe the place of his dreams. A diagram of the
crypt of St Paul’s appeared in my hands. I was shown how the
area could be divided into consulting rooms, a music room, an art
studio, a reception area, administrative offices, a cafeteria, kitchen,
lavatories ... He had thought of everything.

‘
This is all very well,’ I said, deciding it was time to prove he had not succeeded in hypnotising me into a state of mindless
acquiescence, ‘but is Starbridge the best place for this?’

‘
If I specialise in clergy breakdown, men would come from all
over the country and it wouldn’t matter where the ministry
is
based.’

‘
Yes, but presumably – in the beginning at least – your ministry
will be more broadly based, and I can’t see it attracting much
interest in comfortable, conservative Starbridge. Wouldn’t you be
better off in London?’

‘
If I were founding a shady cult which depended for its success
on the power of my personality,’ said Hall, ‘I’d say yes, you’re
right, I’d be better off in London alongside all the charlatans who
feed off dying people by selling them overpriced cures that don’t
work. But my ministry will be built by the grace of Our Lord Jesus
Christ on the power of the Spirit, and you can’t confine
that
to
London. Give me your comfortable Starbridge conservatives! A
fat bank balance and a nice home can’t protect anyone from ran
dom tragedy – in fact such disasters can strike all the harder when
one’s previously had the means to keep all thought of such
unpleasantness at bay.’

I felt I had no alternative but to say: That’s true,’ and it was
with regret that I added: ‘But nevertheless I’m afraid your scheme
will cause considerable opposition in some quarters.’

‘
Of course. The New Testament spells out all too clearly how
threatening some people find a ministry of healing.’

‘
And its companion, the ministry of deliverance. You’ve kept
very quiet about that so far.’

‘
Only because the vocabulary relating to it is so archaic and
debased that one ends up sounding like either a fundamentalist or
a lunatic.’

Then let’s accept the language as an awkward collection of meta
phors and symbols and try to do our best with it. How do you
see
deliverance from your standpoint within the healing ministry?’

I had apparently reassured him that I was willing to be fair-minded about this, the wildest and woolliest corner of clerical activity within the Church. At once he said: ‘My job is to help
people. This is a very normal activity, but occasionally it will shade
into the paranormal – occasionally
_people
will be harassed and
tormented by events which fall beyond the scope of those expla
nations normally defined
as
"rational". In that case my job
is
to
end the torment not only by prayer but by the use of various
rituals which are known to be effective – but let me stress that I’d
never attempt to exorcise a person without the aid of a psychiatrist,
the support of other priests and your express permission. The
deliverance ministry seldom deals with the exorcism of people any
way. The exorcism of places is by far the most frequent item on
the agenda, and that’s usually very straightforward.’

I tried to muzzle my curiosity but failed. ‘What sort of results
have you had with the exorcism of people?’

‘Mixed.’

‘I’m surprised the psychiatrists sanctioned it!’

‘
What did they have to lose? They weren’t getting anywhere. One of them was actually a Christian and keen to give it a go.’

‘
And you succeeded in curing people?’

‘
We had two complete cures where the patients were able to
leave the hospital – although of course the appropriate after-care
was arranged. Then
we
had two semi-cures where the patients
remained mildly schizoid but were no longer troubled by demonic
invasion. And finally we had a complete failure – the patient tried
to kill me, but I think now that he was merely deranged and not possessed. It’s not always easy to make a diagnosis, and if the
diagnosis is wrong an exorcism’s worse than useless.’

‘A demanding ministry,’ I said dryly.

‘It’s a very small segment of my work –’

‘
– but the one most likely to be reported in the
News of the
World
if anything goes wrong. And while we’re on the subject of
scandal, how do you protect yourself from neurotic females in a
ministry which involves the laying-on of hands?’

This, in cricketing terms, was really bowling him a yorker, but
he kept calm and presented the straightest of bats. ‘I never touch patients unless other people are present,’ he said, ‘and anyway if
touching is required it would involve no more than applying pres
sure to the head. But most of the time it’s not required. One
merely holds one’s hands over the affected part of the body. The
clothed body,’ he added neutrally as an afterthought.

I sharpened my interrogation still further. ‘Have you ever felt
attracted to a patient?’

‘
Yes, but there’s never any risk because if that happens I can’t
treat her. The ambiguous feelings get in the way and then my
powers don’t work – or to be correct I should say that the Holy
Spirit can’t use me as a channel of healing because the channel’s
clogged up.’

I found I could believe this. Jon, who had once engaged in a brief ministry of healing, had reminisced to me in similar terms.
But I decided I had a duty to probe further still.

‘
How do you get on with celibacy?’ I said, bowling him not a
mere yorker but a bouncer. ‘I can well understand that a healing
ministry takes so much energy that you feel unable to sustain a
family life, but presumably there must still be times when you feel
married life has certain advantages.’

Hall at once said: ‘Naturally I sometimes feel I’d like to be
married. And when I was married I often felt I’d like to be single.
There are always times when the grass scans greener over the hill,
but I know myself, Bishop, I know which side of the hill I have
to be on, I know the life I’ve been called to lead and I know what
sacrifices I have to make in order to lead it. And besides ... can
a married priest really be guaranteed to have fewer problems than
a well-integrated celibate? I wonder! When I was married I used
to think marriage created more problems than it solved ... But
of course I wasn’t designed for married life.’

This struck me as being not only an honest reply but the reply
of a man who was clear-eyed about life and spiritually mature. In a moment of restlessness which reflected some deep shift in my
attitude to him I stood up and moved to the fireplace. I was
thinking that when the subject of that church in Langley Bottom
was under discussion, it was not my down-to-earth archdeacon
who was in touch with reality but this eccentric divorced priest
whom Malcolm and I had wanted to dismiss as unemployable. I
saw too, as I looked back, that not only had I been led, very much
against my will and conventional judgement, to see this man again
and again, but that no matter how hard I tried to take a sceptical
view of his vision, this view was always systematically demolished.

Standing by the fireplace 1 felt this conclusion pressing on my
mind and I felt I knew too the source of the power which was
driving that conclusion home, but still I felt obliged to say to
myself: I’m debilitated; my judgement could be flawed; I may have
fallen victim to the power of Hall’s personality. I told myself I
needed a further sign, a further increase in that unmistakable pressure on my mind, the pressure capable in the end of blasting aside
all doubt so that no other course remained to be taken.

Aloud I said warily: There are certain problems attached to
St Paul’s. Whether Father Wilton will be well enough to continue
there is far from certain, and —’

‘But I was counting on his support!’

I stared at him:
‘Counting
on it?’

‘
Oh, absolutely! When I visited him in hospital,’ said Hall with
enthusiasm, ‘I realised he could provide just the kind of gentle,
devout — even, I’d go so far
as
to say, holy — atmosphere which I
need at the heart of the parish. I could support him by helping out with the services and he could support me by prayer. We’d
complement each other. It would be the ideal arrangement.’

I was dumbfounded.

‘
Well, never mind Father Wilton for the moment,’ said Hall
hurriedly, interpreting my profound silence as an indication of
episcopal disapproval. ‘I wouldn’t of course presume to dictate to
you about how you should deploy your priests — and talking of
priests, what an original young man your son is! You must be very
proud of him.’