The Archdeacon Returns - Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Lead us not into Temptation

After several months, it became clear that the Bishop’s condition was worse than everyone had been led to believe.  When people saw her, she looked increasingly gaunt, although her stamina appeared to remain strong.  She grew tired quickly, but never let it show to anyone other than the Archdeacon and her administrative assistant.  While physically diminished, she hid from the public that she was becoming unable to work for anything longer than a couple of hours a day without needing a long period of rest. Although she had lost much weight and her hair had fallen out, she wore a wig very close to her normal style and regularly updated her fitted wardrobe to diminish the impression that she was diminishing.  She would not be caught looking emaciated in baggy clothes. She was a woman of exceptional style and knew how to look good, even when she was not well. 

The Archdeacon found himself picking up much more of her work with each passing day. During her treatments, she simply disappeared for a few days and left him at the helm.  He was grateful for her assistant, David, who was now keeping his calendar for him, briefing him on all the important active files, and generally keeping him afloat.  

He was also grateful for his curate, Madeleine, or Maddie, as she was better known.  She was a brilliant young woman, only a year out of seminary and into her curacy at his church, under his supervision.  She had a maturity, sense of good judgement, and competence not found in every young curate these days.  She had excellent pastoral instincts and was well-loved by the people of the parish.  Increasingly, and perhaps quite unfairly for someone so new to ministry, she was being forced to take over much of the Archdeacon’s parochial responsibilities.  He was grateful for this, and trusted her implicitly, but he felt guilty that he could not give her the guidance, supervision, or mentoring that she deserved.  Nevertheless, she bore it well and thrived in the added responsibility. 

 

Maddie had formed a strong bond with her mentor and felt very free to speak her mind with him.  This is not the case with every curate and supervisor, but their relationship was much more collegial that the typical curate/rector relationship.  One day, while the Archdeacon was working in his parish office, she came to the door and trapped him:

“Will you let your name stand when she dies?”

The Archdeacon tried to deflect the question, but Maddie moved swiftly inside the room and planted herself in the chair across from him.  She knew he had a tendency to try to evade and deflect questions he did not want to answer, and she had become adept at not allowing it.

“It’s not something one is supposed to ‘want’,” he responded, attempting an evasion.

“People want all kinds of things they shouldn’t want,” she persisted, “and it’s something you’ve basically been training for your whole life.”

He sat quietly for a moment, thoughtfully, and then responded, “I thought I wanted it once…I might have even had a chance, but I don’t think I’d be elected now, after all that has gone on in the diocese over these past few years…and my role in it…and my association with…her.”  

She looked squarely at him with a stare that pierced through him and a smile forming on the left side of her mouth, and said, “You slick bastard. You’re still not answering my question! I’m going sit here and stare at you and make you feel uncomfortable until you answer me.”

“Alright. No. I don’t want it,” he said emphatically.

“Okay, sure.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay fine; you don’t.”

“You don’t seem convinced…”

“You’re not very convincing.  Look boss,” she continued “I call bullshit. You known you want it, even if I’m not able to drag it out of you.”

A long period of silence passed.

“Maybe…I do, or did,” he finally said tentatively, “but I don’t believe it is in the cards for me now, and I have plenty of doubt that either the people of this diocese or the Spirit of God are calling me to it.”

“Well, that’s not for you to decide. That’s for them.”

“Maybe not. Let’s just leave this, okay?”

“I’ll nominate you.”

“Don’t even think of it.”

“…And I’ve got nine other members of synod who will join me in that honour.”  Five clergy and five lay members of synod was the number of nominators needed for priest to have their name placed on the ballot. 

“No, Maddie. No.” He was quite serious now, and was making a somewhat failing attempt at being severe.

“Okay, I’ll try again after the bishop is…”

“Don’t even say it!”

Later that evening, as he sat alone in his rectory, his typical pensiveness turned to  anger - anger at himself. “I will not,” he told himself. “I don’t want it,” he pronounced emphatically. “I won’t get it,” he stated self-assuredly. “I am not called to it. I will not be the Bishop!”

...The Archdeacon Returns continues on Monday...

To read previous chapters, click here.