At the Church Assembly Bishops and Donkeys
By JOHN GOSS
MORE arid more the Paul Report looks like a conjuror's hat from which is produced, In speedy succession, a variety of objects fOr • the inspection of a bewildered and somewhat sceptical audience. The freehold, patronage,' stipends, pensions, houses, curates, and now bishops. Perhaps those of their Lordships who were in their places for this debate were really a little startled beneath their mirth when a lay member declared it to be 'high time the bishops were told where to go and what to do.' The more so when the House later passed a motion requir- ing a committee to examine the nature, status and function of episcopacy in this modern wOrld. This appears to be a necessary piece of research, since no one present was willing to give an answer to the simple Little question, 'What is a bishop?' There was muoh less doubt as to what they do and what they ought to do, and real concern that the present image reflects an exalted but harassed official who is so busy darting from one committee to the next that he has no time to visit his clergy or to rub shoulders with the man in the street.
Mr. Paul has certainly started something. Even the enthusiastic Bishop of Lincoln, who is chairman of the Council for the Ministry which ordered the Report, seemed a tittle alarmed at the proliferation of committees, working parties and study groups required to cope with the spate of investigation now pouring through the floodgates of reform. Poor Mr. Paul, still smart- ing, no doubt, from the drubbing he received at the last session, came in for further punish- ment this time. In the Assembly, besides a great many amateurs, we have our experts in al:most every profession, and Colonel 'Crawley, of Win- chester, who is a statistician, told us that Mr. Paul's figures were 'a laughing stock' among' other experts to whom they had been shown.
As if this were not enough, Mr. Gervase Duffield, a young publisher from Abingdon, later referred to 'the extremely shoddy work' con- tained in the Report. The next Paul party is in February, when we shall doubtless find that the efforts of the committee men have replenished the conjuror's hat.
It is not often that the urbane secretary of the Assembly, Sir John Guillum Scott, has to face the arrows of criticism. He is most efficient and extremely popular in all parts of the House. This week, however, he was called in question for issuing in his official capacity a pamphlet denying the 'drift to Rome' accasatiorfs aroused by recent Church developments. The Vesture of Ministers Measure, which would legalise what used to be called 'mass vestments,' has been laid before Parliament and is likely to be debated in the Lords within a few days, and the pamphlet, replying to statements from the grow- ing Protestant opposition has been sent round to MPs. The Archbishop and Sir John Arbuthnot, who is to introduce the Measure in the Commons, were obliged to bow to the storm and admit that this had been done with their encourage- ment. Feelings in the House were running high, many members seeming rather shocked at this disclosure on the ground that the secretary should be allowed to maintain a position of strictest impartiality.
Anything can happen at the Assembly, and at this session, during a rather stuffy financial dilcussion, Sir Arthur fforde, the chairman of the Central Board, was presented with his horoscope. This unsolicited gift came from the Archdeacon of Bedford, who had been studying in the train 'a daily paper which I very seldom see.' The horoscope read: 'You are full of new ideas and most 'enterprising. People you meet will give you great assistance. Success in love.' Sir Arthur seemed gratified, and told us that part of it had already come true, but he did not mention which.
It would seem that the gilt on the Christian Stewardship gingerbread is wearing rather thin. The Archdeacon told us that standards of giving were very much lowered; this he attributed to the amateurish methods adopted in many places, and the prejudice against 'the companies.' These are the professional fund-raisers who, in return for a sizeable fee, undertake to double or treble the income of a church over a period of years through pledged giving. This usually starts off with an excellent dinner (free) at which the initial pledges are painlessly extracted, followed by a systematic canvassing of parishioners who have already signed on the dotted line and the familiar package of weekly enveloPes. All goes famously for a while, but all too often enthusiasm wanes, gifts dwindle, and the last state of the parochial exchequer is found to be worse than the first.
After due discussion, and with a great sense of pro bon° public°, we passed a self-denying ordinance reducing the time allowed for our speeches from fifteen minutes to ten, unless a special indulgence be granted from the chair. This was not done without Mr. Malcolm McQueen warning us that it was like placing a time-bomb under our proceedings. Some people seemed to think this was a very good idea, if it would do something to curb those who persist in making the same long speeches about several different subjects, and encourage some of the silent members to let us hear their views. It was noticeable that subsequent speeches were made at the gallop, which, while it may persuade the gallery that the Church, though faint, is still pursuing, is scarcely conducive to calm delibera- tion, careful consideration and wise decision. Sir Kenneth Grubb, who is not often at a loss, confessed himself as somewhat baffled in seeking the right road through the labyrinth of papers, findings, recommendations and exhorta- tions which emerged from the Toronto Congress. The letters 'MRI' have a somewhat sinister look about them, but they stand innocently enough for 'Mutual Responsibility and Interdependence' —the title of a Toronto document urging closer links and co-operation between all parts of the Anglican Communion. Of course, more money is involved and the parishes will have to raise it, but, as the Archbishop of York pointed out, much more is involved in the way of prayer and study, and in appreciation of the fact that we in 'this tight little island' have a responsibility towards the new civilisations of the world. His concern was lest such weighty matters as the Paul Report, Anglican/Methodist relations and the rest should predominate and make the re- sponse to this challenge less than it ought to be:
Did you ever see a donkey riding in a taxi in Notting Hill Gate? The Rev. F. P. Coleman did on his way to Westminster, and skilfully used this remarkable picture to introduce his speech in the Paul debate with the caption, 'Is this the right way to go about things?' Strangely enough, his was not the only donkey, for Bishop Heeley told us of another when we considered the repair of parsonages. This one he had found at a remote Lincolnshire vicarage, walking round in circles to pump water to the top of the house. The sound of the overflow told him when to stop, but no one had explained what happens when it freezes, with disastrous results one winter's day.
Donkeys in taxi-cabs, secretaries on the carpet, Mr. Paul in the pillory, and some quite useful work in between—taken all in all, one might say, an above-average Assembly.
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