The Archdeacon Returns - Chapter One

Chapter 1: The Archdeacon Returns

“Have you heard from Christa?” asked the young man.

“Not a word since she left for England three years ago to take up that college chaplaincy,” the older man replied.

The older man, of course, was our old friend, the Archdeacon. Three years had passed since we last encountered him on the first leg of his archdiaconal visitation of the diocese. Archdeacon Thomas Fulman, as the reader will recall from my earlier narrative, had been selected by Bishop Temperance Verity to advise her on the closure and amalgamation of parishes during the current period of parochial decline.  The Archdeacon, a sturdy man in his fifties, handsome, friendly, had been well-liked by his peers until that fateful visitation and consequent restructuring. He quickly became known as the bishop’s hatchet man and most of his old compatriots now stayed clear of him either out of resentment or for fear that they might find themselves, or their parish, next on the block. Indeed, after he had recommended the closure of her church, Canon Christa Clement, who had been his dearest friend and loving companion, had left him, and the country. He had not heard from her since.

This brings us to the young man in the current conversation. It’s not that he was especially young, mind you. I think at the time when our story takes place he would have been in his early forties, but it must be understood that anyone under fifty in the Anglican Church is routinely considered “young”.  This young man, whose name was Tony A. Wood, was the diocesan archivist.  He did not fit the stereotypical description of what most people might imagine when they think of a collector of diocesan minutiae.  He was outgoing, something of a sportsman, an athlete, and although not especially good-looking, had a friendly countenance that made him immediately likeable and attractive. “Young Tony”, as he was referred to by most in the diocesan hierarchy, had been trained as an archivist when he was a truly young man.  He had an MA in Church History and specialized in the early days of the Church in Upper Canada.  Although he had trained specifically in the field, he had not been able to find an archivists’s position immediately. So, due to a personal connection, he was taken on as a sales clerk at the now defunct Church Book Room by that old eccentric manager, the Rev. Dr. Major. Now, the old Book Room was the jewel in the crown of the diocesan establishment. It had a venerable history dating back over one hundred years. Yet, like many bookstores, it has now gone the way of all flesh.  I would like to say that its demise was a product of the times and the changing marketplace, but it was instead the victim of Bishop Verity and her earlier, dramatic downsizing of the diocesan centre.  Young Tony was the only staff member of the Book Room to survive the bloodbath, as fortuitously (for him), the old cantankerous archivist, Canon Parchment, died in the saddle during the downsizing.  Young Tony, having the perfect skill-set, and being young enough to be paid half of what the old Canon was making, was named his replacement.

The Archdeacon and Young Tony had begun to develop a friendship about a dozen years back, when the young man was still a Book Room clerk and the older man, as a parish priest, was a regular weekly customer. He and Young Tony had hit it off and always took the time to talk about mutual interests, and especially church gossip, during his visits.  Despite their age difference, they took to each other and became fast friends.  They would often plan to have lunch or coffee together when Canon Fulman (as he was styled in those days) made his weekly visits to the shoppe. 

After the Book Room was closed, and when the the older man was made an Archdeacon, their friendship continued.  The Archdeacon soon realized that when making his parish visitations, he needed to learn every thing he could about the parishes he would be visiting, so he made a weekly visit to the archives to do the appropriate research. He and Young Tony kept up their lunches.  This had been a great comfort to the Archdeacon after Christa left and as his circle of friends began to diminish. It was perhaps because of this bond that although the Archdeacon had now concluded his visitation that they kept up their weekly lunches.

“No,” the Archdeacon continued, “I never hear from her. I miss her, though.  I did reach out to her once, hoping that we might at least be able to correspond, but she never responded.”

The young man, having brought up this sensitive topic was now unsure of how to continue. Thankfully, he was relieved of that burden by the Archdeacon who changed the subject.

“After lunch, I’m going upstairs to meet with the Bishop.”

“Oh? Thinking about making a change, a move? You’ve been at your current parish for a long time…”

“No…not that…at least I don’t think so. I’m happy there, and I don’t need any more upheaval in my life at this time. These last three years have taken more of an emotional toll than I expected. At least they still love me!”

“What is it, then?”

“I’m not sure. She called me. I don’t know what it’s about.  I’ve almost single-handedly downsized the diocese. I’m not sure what else she might want from me.”

“You never know what it’s about with her,” Young Tony added, “Are you nervous?”

“No. I’ve known her so long - too long to be intimated by her. And aside from you, she may be one of the only friends I have left in this diocese!”

“Well, I’m sure you’re the only friend she’s got.”

“Possibly,” the Archdeacon laughed, “She’s always done what she thought was best for the Church.  I know not everyone agrees with her, or likes her, but she’s done what needed to be done for the times we live in. There was no sense in pushing the problem of church decline down the road to her successor.  She handled it head-on, at great personal cost to herself, I might add.”

“…and to you,” Young Tony interjected.

“All ministry has a cost.  I know you’re not a fan, Tony, but I believe she’s done the right thing and that she’s been the right person for the times.  She’s not been popular, but she has done right.”

“I’ll have to disagree with you on that.”

“That’s your prerogative.  I’m sure we’ll stay friends in spite of this little difference of opinion,” the Archdeacon chuckled.

“We’ll see…” the young man smiled.

“I’ll let you know how the meeting goes.”

...The Archdeacon Returns will continue tomorrow...

To read the Archdeacon's previous adventures, click here.