The Bishop - Chapter Two : A Meeting
Chapter Two - A Meeting
The Bishop sat at the head of the table. It was not his preference but that was the chair that was reserved for him when he walked in the room, and the only chair available when he arrived precisely at 10:30. He was used to being early for meetings. During his parish ministry, he was almost always the first one to arrive - after all, he had to open up the church building, set up the table and chairs, and put on the coffee or tea. It was not a burden for him to do the set-up. He enjoyed arriving early. It allowed him to gather his thoughts, to set up the room the way he wanted, and to stake out his place at the table. He never sat at the head of the table, but chose a more inconspicuous seat, giving the message that he was a member of the family, a family who worked together.
Now, as bishop, his place was always reserved in advance and he found himself led around by others to places of honour. At a parish visit, there was always a reserved parking spot close to the building, someone to greet him and carry his vestments and episcopal regalia, he was led directly to the rector’s office, where the rector’s seat was vacated for his use, and he was walked through either a prepared agenda or prepared order of service, and told where he would walk, sit, and stand. He had not prepared a single liturgy himself since he had left Hampton’s Corners, and he missed this tremendously. He was nominally “in charge”, and yet, it seemed like he was always led about and told where he was supposed to be and what he was supposed to do. He was always given the seat of honour and everyone deferred to him, and called him “Bishop”, but he wasn’t sure that anyone any longer recognized William Perkins, the man. A bishop of a neighbouring diocese told him, upon his consecration, that his first name would become “Bishop”. People with whom he had been friendly for years, and even his intimates would all suddenly forget his Christian name, and begin calling him “Bishop” as if that was the name his mother had given him. His colleague on the episcopal bench was correct, and William Perkins found himself wondering who this “Bishop” person was. He felt like a stranger to hiimself, and he felt quite alone amongst his old colleagues who now had come to see him as quite a different person, altogether.
It hadn’t helped that during the first year of his episcopacy, his beloved wife, Mary, had died quite suddenly “after a short but courageous battle with cancer”, as the obituary read. The one person who really knew him for the person he was had suddenly disappeared from his life. As he was led from place to place by his inferiors everyday, he found himself quite lost.
The meeting upon which we shall eavesdrop this morning is a meeting of the diocesan executive staff. As Bishop Perkins took his seat at the table, he opened the meeting with a prayer, “Almighty God, for as much as without Thee, we are unable to please Thee, mercifully grant that in all things thy Holy Spirit direct and rule our hearts, through Christ our Lord,” and the assembly muttered “Amen.”
In addition to the Bishop and Robbie, also present were Wilma Trethewey, QC, the diocesan chancellor, who only tended to speak when legal matters were addressed; Mr. Arnold Argent, CA, the diocesan treasurer; Canon Suzanne Sharpe, the Secretary of Synod; and taking minutes was Billy Byward, the Bishop’s assistant.
Today’s order of business was given over completely to a review of the list of parishes in financial arrears. They were either behind on their “assessment”, essentially a tax paid to the diocese to support its work, or their clergy stipend amount owed to central payroll. Clergy were paid regardless of whether or not the parish submitted what was owed to central payroll. Most parishes in the diocese were current with their financial commitments, but there was small but significant number who were a month or two behind, and a few that might be several months, or even years in arrears.
Canon Sharpe looked across the table sternly at the Bishop. He acknowledged her, even though she had not asked to speak.
“Bishop,” she began in a business-like manner, “Have you had a chance to peruse the list of delinquents?” Robbie slid the list in front of him. He glanced over it, refreshing himself.
“Yes, Canon, but I wonder about the terminology. I’m not sure ‘delinquent’ might be the best way to characterized our struggling parishes.”
“Ahem,” interjected Arnold Argent, C.A., “Bishop, it’s simply an ‘accounts receivable’ term. It implies no moral judgement.”
“Well, words carry meaning,” the Bishop said, “our parishes know we use this term — indeed, some of the letters you send them, Canon Sharpe, use this term. Goodness knows, when I was a parish priest, I received more than one of them! They are discouraging, demoralizing, disheartening. How can we expect our struggling parishes to feel encouraged and supported in their ministry when we call them delinquents in writing, when we refer to them as such, both publicly and privately? Surely, there must be a better term.”
“Bishop, she responded, “I’m sure you will come up with a better term in due course, but we are floating these churches and they have no sense of their financial obligations. They keep running up debt and sooner or later, they expect that we will just right it off and clear the slate. We can’t keep doing that.”
“Yes, quite impossible,” Arnold Argent added.
“Bishop,” interjected Robbie, “May I make a suggestion?” This was merely a courtesy, for Robbie would make his point, the Bishop thought, with our without his consent. “Why don’t you and I brainstorm some ideas for a better term at another time. We could even look at re-writing the standard letter we send. What I think we need to do today is to find a way to reach out to these parishes and support them in making good with their financial obligations.” Butter wouldn’t melt in Robbie’s mouth, the Bishop thought. Robbie continued, “As it happens, Canon Sharpe and Mr. Argent and I have done a little brainstorming. We think it might be advisable for the…ahem…delinquent parishes to receive visits from Mr. Argent and a couple of members of the Accounts Receivable Committee to help them come up with some reasonable financial recovery strategies. You know, look at the their budgets and give them some support with respect to their financial management techniques. This would help them get back on track…”
The Bishop had received such visitations when he was a parish priest. Well-meaning volunteer accounts come into a parish, look at the budget, and see where savings might be had. In most cases, the church wardens had already trimmed the budget so tightly that people were donating photocopy paper to the church and the priest was keeping the rectory temperature at 62 degrees to keep the costs down. It was demoralizing to the church wardens and, to be quite honest, condescending. “I have a feeling this initiative is pretty ready to go forward…” the Bishop said.
“As a matter of fact, we do have a visitation schedule worked out, with a plan to visit each…ahem…delinquent parish before the year’s end. We have timed the financial visitation to fall the week after you have made your annual Sunday visit to the parishes in question…” said Robbie.
“…so that you can ‘warm them up’ for Mr. Argent and his team,” added Canon Sharpe.
“I see,” said the Bishop solemnly, “I suppose it has to happen, but I absolutely forbid the use of the word ‘delinquent’ in any of these proceedings.
Canon Sharpe glanced across at Mr. Argent, who looked over his horn-rimmed glasses at Robbie, who looked back at the Canon.”
“As I said,” said Mr. Argent, assertively, “It is an A/R term…,”
“Which is henceforth forbidden in this diocese,” the Bishop said firmly. The unholy trinity once again shot each other glances, indicating thorough disappointment and disapproval of the Bishop’s tone. The Chancellor kept her head down throughout, and Billy attentively recorded the minutes on his laptop. Bishop Perkins leaned back in his chair, drew in a deep breath, and added, attempting a pastoral tone, “Robbie, we will indeed review the use of this word.”
He hated pulling rank but he felt quite strongly about the matter. Yet, it always felt that when he asserted himself, that he in fact undermined his own authority in some strange way. He felt untrue to himself.
“Very good, Bishop. Mr. Argent and his team are ready to begin their work as early as next week, following your Sunday visit to the first parish on the list, and the one the most in arrears, St. Bridget’s-in-the-slum.” This was the common nickname for the once grand St. Bridget’s-in-the-Park, a parish that was once the home to the city’s elite, but over the past several decades had obviously become a shadow of its former self as the wealthy left the area and the old great homes became rooming houses. It was also the parish of that kindly, but hapless clergyman who had baptized the dog not so long ago, the Rev. Percy Poorechap.
..."The Bishop" continues tomorrow...
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