Absolute Truths (67 page)

I
was not in the least anxious to pray and would have much preferred to retrieve our mistake by asking Jon to expound further
on the theory which Aysgarth and I had so tactlessly dismissed,
but Jon clearly felt we needed the most effective tool available
for waging war on our arrogance and prising open our closed
minds.

Aysgarth too was slow to move; I suspected he would have been
content to remain seated, but Jon had strict ideas about worship
and believed that the body had an important part to play in
reflecting the motions of the mind. We all knelt by our chairs, and
the cat, waving his tail, stalked around observing this phenomenon
until Jon was obliged to remove him to the kitchen.

‘
We’ll start with the Lord’s Prayer,’ said Jon once he was kneeling
again. ‘You need something simple to focus your minds. I shall recite the prayer and you will listen, you will pray with it and you
will meditate in the silences I’ll create, just as two men of your age
and experience should. Are you ready?’

We started out. He paused after ‘Thy will be done’ and ‘Give
us this day our daily bread’, but the longest silence came after the
prayer for forgiveness.

‘
What would be the best interpretation of "daily bread" in these
circumstances?’ Jon said after the ‘Amen’.

‘Grace,’ I said.

‘
Courage,’ said Aysgarth.

‘
Why not the knowledge which generates understanding, the
knowledge you seem so determined to underestimate? I suggest
we now ask God to lighten the darkness of ignorance in which you both stand in relation to each other – we’ll recite the final evensong Collect. I’ll recite it first. Then you, Charles, and then
you, Neville. Arc we ready? Very well. "Lighten our darkness, we
beseech thee, O Lord .. "‘

I made a
vast
but unsuccessful effort to concentrate. The thought of darkness reminded me of my night with Sheila, a memory which
I found I could no longer contemplate without feeling ill with
shame and dread. A dense fog of misery overwhelmed me. I ceased
to listen to the prayer and almost missed Jon saying at the end:
‘Your turn,-Charles.’

I tried to recall the familiar words but failed. Only the thought
of Aysgarth, smirking as he waited for the moment when he
would recite the Collect perfectly, drove me to try again and
succeed.

‘... Amen,’ I concluded much too fast.

‘Neville?’ said Jon.

I waited for the polished recital but nothing happened.
‘Charles,’ said Jon, ‘would you be good enough, please, to fetch
a glass of water from the kitchen?’

Amazed by Aysgarth’s failure I lurched to my feet and withdrew
to the kitchen where the tiresome cat, no doubt hungry for his
fish, started to rub himself trustfully against my ankles. To buy
myself some time I poured a dash of milk into his saucer.
Immensely gratified by this gift from a stranger, he settled himself
down, purring loudly; his small pink tongue began to whip in and
out; I could only envy him his innocent happiness.

Feeling marginally calmer after this brief break from my human
companions, I returned to the main room with the glass of water and found Aysgarth looking unnaturally pale. ‘Sony,’ he kept say
ing. ‘Not myself at all. Sorry, Sony, sorry.’

Jon said in the same gentle voice he had used earlier to me:

‘
Life’s unusually difficult, perhaps, for you as well as for Charles
at present.’

‘
Nonsense. My difficulties aren’t in the same league. Charles has
the bereavement to cope with.’

‘
True. But just suppose for a moment that Charles wasn’t
bereaved —’

‘
Ah well, then there’d be no comparison. Before Lyle’s death
Charles always had it easy — no wonder he was constantly gliding
along and glittering away, wreathed in triumphant self-satisfaction!
In fact, he’s still glittering, isn’t he? Look at the way he recited that Collect just now! That perfect pause for meditation at the
beginning, that perfect recital of each clause, that perfect quicken
ing of pace at the end — every syllable he uttered demonstrated
how completely relaxed and at ease he was!’

I said: ‘Of course you’re speaking in jest.’

‘In
jest?
I assure you I’m wholly serious!’

‘But my dear Stephen!’

‘What’s the matter?’

‘You can’t possibly believe such rubbish!’

‘Rubbish?’

‘
Rubbish!
I was in such a state I could hardly get the words out,
and in the beginning I couldn’t even remember them!’

‘
You’re just saying that to make me fed better.’

‘
I most certainly am not! And while we’re on the subject of
people gliding along and glittering away, what sort of impression do you think you’ve been giving, bragging about all your perfect children and basking in your outstanding talent as a fund-raiser
and administrator? You’ve been gliding and glittering around that
Cathedral ever since your installation in 1957!’

‘
Well, I had to keep up with you somehow, didn’t 1? It was
a question of pride.’ His eyes widened as he realised where the
conversation had led him. ‘Wait a minute,’ he said furiously,
‘wait
a minute!
What’s happening here? How did we get involved in
this revolting emotional strip-tease?’

I said: ‘Prayer can open up a pathway to one’s truest emotions.
Jon wanted to —’
That man’s reaching the stage where he ought to be banned by
law!’

‘
My sole aim was to help you catch a glimpse of the truth that
you know rather
less
about each other than you think,’ said Jon,
evidently making the lightning decision that the best way to survive
this onslaught was to speak with brisk good humour. ‘If the two
of you can only cast aside those glittering images which have
bedevilled your acquaintance for so long, perhaps I’ll finally be
able to introduce the real Charles Ashworth to the real Neville
Aysgarth.’

‘
You appalling old magician!’ said Aysgarth, still disgusted but
showing signs of being amused in spite of himself. ‘You monstrous
old clerical buccaneer, how dare you bugger around with us like
that? If I had a gun I’d shoot you!’

‘
No, you wouldn’t!’ I said, amazed to find myself laughing.
‘You’d be too busy wondering what he was going to say next! Go
on, Jon.’

‘I rather doubt if that’s what Neville wants.’

Aysgarth made a noise which sounded like ‘Arrrgh!’ and declared
truculently: ‘If Charles is tough enough to endure this scandalous
performance of yours, then I’m certainly not going to fall by the
wayside. All right, you old conjuror, what are you going to say
next?’

‘Nothing,’ said Jon, outflanking him.

‘
It’s enough that I’ve given you a glimpse of this unknown reality,’
said Jon, driven to explain himself after Aysgarth had given yet
another exclamation of deep disgust. ‘It’s enough if you now accept
that although you know each other so well on a facile level, there
are vast areas of ignorance on both sides. In fact
we’ve
reached a
point beyond which I can’t go — to do so would betray the confi
dences which you’ve both bestowed on me over the years. All I
can do now, having pointed you in the right direction, is to leave
you to explore this new reality for yourselves.’

‘
I’m not exploring anything,’ said Aysgarth, very bolshie.
Trying to suppress my irritation I said evenly: ‘But on reflection,
Stephen, would you at least agree that we should both admit to a degree of ignorance about each other? After all, only God can
know the whole truth about anyone; our knowledge of others is
always going to be imperfect.’

‘
Precisely!’ said Jon at once, lured on by Aysgarth’s bolshiness
to take the centre of the stage once more. ‘One can never know
the whole story about anyone — yet how we all rush to judgement!
How we all love to ignore the truth that we know so little about
what motivates other people, what shadows from the past distort their psyches, what demons haunt and enslave them. How readily
we say with perfect confidence: "He’s despicable!" or: "He’s
behaved unforgivably!" or worst of all:
"I’d
never behave like that!" Yet how dare we
pass
judgement when so much of the evidence is
beyond our reach? No wonder Our Lord said so sternly: "JUDGE
NOT, THAT YE BE NOT JUDGED!" No wonder he said: "HE
THAT IS WITHOUT SIN AMONG YOU, LET HIM CAST
THE FIRST STONE!" Jesus wasn’t interested in rushing to judge
ment. He wasn’t interested in "keeping up a front" or scoring points off those who found him intolerable. "LOVE YE YOUR
ENEMIES," he said, "DO GOOD TO THEM THAT HATE
YOU." And time after time he said: FORGIVE, and talked of the
rruth which sets us free ... And so we come back again to our
own current quest for truth, the truth about one another. As
Charles pointed out just now, we can never see the whole truth;
only God can see everything. But we can see so much more of the
truth when our eyes are open, viewing people as Christ viewed
them, than when they remain resolutely closed.’

He stood up, moving slowly to the fireplace, and stared into
the
flames
for a long moment before turning to face us again. ‘I
know so much about you both,’ he said abruptly. ‘I know what
forces and events have shaped you. I know not only about all your
difficulties but about how hard you’ve worked to overcome them.
You look at each other and see only your faults, but I look at you
in
the light of my special knowledge and find I can overlook those
faults because I know your virtues are far more important. How
impressed you would be with each other if you knew what I knew!
What heroes you would be in each other’s eyes! What a lot you
have in common and how you would sympathise with each other
if ever you began to discuss your past ordeals! Of course you’ve
both made mistakes and got into muddles from time to time, of
course you have — you’re only human! But unlike so many people
you’ve always repented and struggled to do better — you’ve always kept trying, no matter how adverse the circumstances, to live your
faith with courage and be the best possible versions of the men
God created you to be.’

He moved back to the table and when he was sitting between
us again he said suddenly: ‘Charles, tell Neville about your call.’

‘
Which call?’ I said, but I knew. It was the call to bring up
another man’s son, but of course I could not talk of that.

Treat Neville as a priest,’ said Jon, guessing my thoughts, ‘and
ask him to keep the matter confidential.’

That was when I realised my silence arose not from a fear that
Aysgarth would betray a confidence but from an inability to talk
of Samson.

‘I can’t,’ I said, confused.

‘
Neville, perhaps you can tell Charles about your own call.’

‘
Which call?’ said Aysgarth, but he knew too; I saw confusion
overwhelm him as it had overwhelmed me. ‘Certainly not!’ he said
irritably at last. ‘That’s private. But I’ll say this: just because I
responded to the call doesn’t mean I’m a hero, as you seem to be
implying. I responded because it was the only thing I could pos
sibly have done — it allowed me to redeem the past.’

At once I said startled: That’s the way I felt. And I don’t sec
myself as a hero either. I just did what had to be done.’
We gazed at each other with deepening interest.

‘
But nevertheless one could surely still say,’ pursued Jon, ‘that
you both in your different ways took part in the redeeming work
of the Holy Spirit: there was a mess which you toiled to put right.
Now let’s reach a little further back into the past: Charles, tell
Neville about your parents.’

After a pause
I
said: ‘I’d rather not.’ It was always difficult for
me to speak of the harsh treatment which I had received from my
strict father and the reasons which lay behind his behaviour.

‘
Neville, tell Charles about your Uncle Willoughby.’

‘
Over my dead body!’ said Aysgarth outraged.

But these refusals had obviously been expected; Jon had asked
the questions not to obtain answers but to stimulate our interest
in each other. With a smile he stooped to pick up the cat, who had returned to skulk around the hem of his
cassock,
and announced:
‘Whitby must now have his fish. I suggest we all keep silence for a while in order to rest.’ And trying not to look too pleased with himself he stalked away yet again to the kitchen.