It was a while since Ruth had been in an unfamiliar church, even the more far-flung parts of her diocese becoming familiar over the years. And especially to be attending like this, for a normal service, just as congregation, not even a clerical collar at her neck. Taking things gently, as per doctor's orders.
She took a service sheet from the pile, found a seat with no more than a polite nod to an inquisitive member of the congregation, leant back, and let her eyes wander across the sanctuary. Altar decked in green, stained glass an abstract riot across the east wall, chalice glinting from the credence table to the side. Shadows moving behind a half-open door, a head stuck out for just a moment to survey the congregation but disappearing quickly, nobody emerging again until the dot of twelve thirty.
Then Ruth couldn’t resist looking up, meeting the eyes of the young vicar as she took her place before the congregation, a twitch of anxiety in her hands before she drew her focus back to the welcome.
It was after the service, having hung back until the rest of the congregation had left, that Ruth could shake her hand with a beam. “Lucy.”
“Thank you for coming.” A cautious answer, testing the ground. “I can’t say I was expecting to see you when I looked out!”
“Now, about that homily…” Ruth kept her face straight for a few seconds before shaking her head with a laugh. “No, I'm not really going to judge your sermon. It wasn't heretical, which is the only thing I would call you out on in a situation like this, but in fact I'd go as far as to say I found it rather interesting. It occurred to me I’d never heard you preach before, and I've missed out.”
Lucy smiled. “You’re still a tease, it’s really not very fair. You could have told me you were coming!”
“And given you even more cause to worry? Anyway, it wasn't really planned. It’s my day off, I was vaguely in the area from a thing last night, so I just decided to drop in. I've been going round sneaking in on a few of my old ordinands. Especially since my doctor was very clear with me about not attempting any strenuous hills!” Ruth pulled a face.
“Do you want to get lunch? I just need to get all this sorted and then I’m free…” Lucy shifted her weight from foot to foot.
“That’d be lovely, if you’d like. Would you let me treat you?”
“Um, sure. Can I just…” she jerked her head towards the sacristy.
“Absolutely.”
Lucy led the way through, into the small room where her sacristan was already at work drying off now clean silverware. “Liz. Thank you so much. Ruth, this is Liz, churchwarden. Liz, Archbishop Ruth.”
“Afternoon.”
“I’m going to get this off, if you don’t mind. Sorry, I thought when I saw you I should be wearing a chasuble but I don’t think this church actually owns one…”
“Your dress is perfectly appropriate and canonical, and no doubt in keeping with the tradition of your church, no need to mess with it - especially in this weather! Lovely service. Wonderful homily too, as I said – an extra treat, I wasn’t expecting anything like that for a lunchtime. And the Eucharistic Prayer, it felt like you meant every word. Never lose that.”
Lucy smiled shyly as she hung her alb up in the wardrobe and reached across for the records book, jotted down numbers and signed and put it back on the shelf. “Doing things properly, if you want to check…”
“Oh, I’m sure I can entrust that to the archdeacon. Good to see you not panicking over it anymore.”
“Janice and Tim were good teachers.”
“I’m sure. Anyway, do finish what you’re doing, we’ll have plenty of time to chat over lunch.”
“I usually take a quiet minute to pray…”
“Delighted to hear it, do.” Ruth nodded encouragingly as Lucy dipped out of the sacristy back into the body of the church, then turned to Liz with an explanation. “I ordained Lucy a few years ago, it’s really nice to come and see how she’s getting on.”
“Oh, she’s wonderful. Well loved round here.”
“That’s great to hear.” She looked good, too, happier, like she’d settled into her ministry. Ruth played with a drawer handle and then peeked inside at the layers of neatly folded linen. “Sorry, just looking…”
“No worries…”
Ruth went back to reading the contents of the walls, mentally coming up with responses to some of the more inane prayers. In a corner, a mountain of cushions and cables. Absent-mindedly, Ruth started to line up pens, perfectly parallel to each other, perpendicular to the edge of the desk. Random pads of post-it notes pushed together, everything at right angles, then forced herself to stop. Peek in a few more drawers instead.
“Hi Ruth, thanks for waiting…”
She pushed the drawer shut guiltily and turned with a smile. “No worries. Sorry, I got curious, sacristies are fun…”
“That’s fine… sorry, needs a tidy in here really…”
“I’ve seen worse. Lunch?”
“Yes, let’s.”
“Any recommendations, or shall we just walk along the high street and see what takes our fancy?”
“Uh, sure, up to you.”
“Great.”
“Liz, I locked up the main church, you’re okay to do the back?”
“Sure.” The churchwarden turned to Ruth. “Pleasure to meet you.”
“And you. Thank you for letting me invade your sacristy. God bless.” Ruth turned back to Lucy. “Right. Lead on.”
They found a nice place a little way down the street where they could order noodles and sit at a quiet table in the corner to eat them. Ruth raised her eyebrows at Lucy. “So. Incumbent.”
“Apparently.”
“I hope curacy went a reasonable way to preparing you, though obviously it’s a big step. You’ve had enough support?”
“Oh yes. A wonderful bishop, a helpful clergy network in the city. And then people in the parish have been understanding. Think I’m just about settling now.”
“Bit of a bumpy start?”
“Not too bad but…” Lucy shrugged. “Lot to learn. Weird, not having Tim there at least as a safety net. And not being able to tell myself “I’m only a curate it’s a learning experience.””
“It still is a learning experience, of course.”
“Of course. Different, though.” She smiled shyly. “I think I’m pretty settled now, though. Like I fit in now, I’m starting to be able to do things, not just figuring it out but actually… little changes. Easing the focus onto the liturgy, onto the Eucharist. Getting some groups going. And like… I’ve got used to preaching here now. Found my voice. Like, every church is different, you know?”
“Oh, I do.”
“Oh yeah, of course you do. But yeah, finding my voice took a while. It’s so good, though. So many people, so many wonderful conversations.”
“And you feel you’re doing what you’re called to do?”
The tiniest hesitation. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess.”
“It’s okay to not be sure.” Ruth raised her eyebrows. “You’re young, you might not be doing all you’re called to right now, in fact you won’t be remaining in this parish for the rest of your life. It’s good to keep listening, you’ll find God keeps walking a step ahead. Do you think you’re where you should be right now, though?”
Lucy nodded. “Yeah, I think so. Like, I can’t see where else…”
“That’ll do for now then. Enjoy it. Stay open to God.”
“Keep it fresh,” Lucy agreed.
“Not how I’d put it, but perhaps.” Ruth focused on her food for a moment. “You’ve got a lot of potential, don’t hold yourself back. If you have a project you want to try, or see a job you’re not sure you’re qualified for, go for it - or at least have a chat about it with the archdeacon. Doesn’t have to be a job, it could be something you do around your ministry here. Just don’t stagnate, keep living your vocation to the full, that’s how you can really be a good priest.” She smiled to relax the intensity a little. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it. It’s tough, but if it’s what you’re called to do, it’s absolutely wonderful.”
“It is.”
“Anyway. I didn’t really come here to grill you on your life plans. More just to see how you’re getting on and have a chat. Figure out that Greek in the end?”
Lucy’s cheeks turned pink. “I did, yes. One Thessalonians five, the one who calls you is faithful. Thank you, it’s definitely a phrase I come back to a lot.”
“I’m glad. It might be a cliché but it’s one of mine too – along with ‘al-tîrā kî ‘imməḵā-’ānî…”
“Slow down, I’m trying, I’ve only really done it in writing…”
Ruth found a pen and scribbled on the edge of a napkin, then slid it across, grinning as Lucy peered at the Hebrew. "Isla and I pass notes in Hebrew during long meetings. It's good practice, and she's taught me a lot."
“Not… fear… for… oh!” Lucy looked up. “That should not have taken me that long.”
“Oh no, very good, well done. Isaiah. Always reassuring.”
“Yeah, I see that.” Lucy paused. “So, you’re going to Cambridge…”
“I am indeed. You’ve been following the news.”
“Yeah. Looking forward to it?”
“Yes. It’ll be good. Quite a change.”
“I’m sure. Lucky ordinands!”
Ruth smiled wryly. “I’m not sure if you’re being sarcastic or not…”
“I’m not. Well, not really. I mean, you’re not going to give them an easy ride…”
“No, that’s certainly true. But I’ll try to be supportive.”
“With a bit of tough love thrown in now and then.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lucy shook her head and laughed. “Thanks for coming by. Spending more time on a lowly… well, not curate any more, I guess.”
“No.” Ruth sighed. “You’ve come a long way. Since I first knew you as an ordinand, and then all that stuff through your curacy. Everyone has – I’ve ordained… must be over two hundred people, across twenty years. And seeing where they are now… some still curates, some retired. Some in line to be among the next bishops. Many in cathedrals. And then so many like you, leading parishes, transforming the world from your own little patch spreading outwards. That’s my biggest regret, now, not being able to do the York ordinations this year. Maybe I’m being greedy…”
“No, I think that’s understandable. Like… just joining in the act of ordination, as a priest. Laying on hands. Even that’s overwhelming enough.” Lucy hesitated. “You must have been pretty ill.”
Ruth shrugged, an attempt to dismiss it. “It wasn't nice. Tried to push myself too hard, didn't listen to my body, for which I'm being rewarded with regular visits to a hospital outpatient unit. The things you shake off easily when you’re young... they’re a little more challenging when you’re old. But anyway, I can hardly claim I’m hard done by - ordaining is something most people don’t experience at all!”
“Still rough,” replied Lucy sympathetically. “So, go on, tell me about this sabbatical year…”
“Sabbatical implies time out of a job, rather than between jobs.”
“Yeah. Technicalities. Go on.”
“Well, I’ve not finalised plans yet, they were dependent on… well, things that have now happened. But I’m going travelling. Provided the stem cell treatment works and I get clearance from my doctor, pilgrimage – of the traditional walking variety. And I’m visiting the Holy Land again, perhaps with a couple of other retired priests and bishops. And I’m going to decorate and furnish my new house and settle into it, and decide whether I want to take up rowing. And a lot of reading and writing and time with God. The kind of relaxation we all long for.”
“Sounds like a wonderful plan. And well earned.”
“I’d say it’s certainly a luxury. But one I feel rather in need of.”
“Go on. You have earned it.” Lucy looked down at her hand for a moment. “Just to stick in a thought relating to our earlier conversation. I’m helping someone in the parish, discerning to priesthood. That’s quite something.”
“Oh, it certainly is.”
“Like, filling in referral forms. Walking alongside them. When it’s not really that long since I was doing it myself.”
“Well, nine or ten years…”
“True. Longer than it seems, I guess. But a lot of that was theological college, that’s still discerning, still being guided. I mean more the step from being guided to being the guide. And from being recommended to doing the recommending.”
“I suppose it does feel big.” Ruth swilled the water in her glass. “Obviously, you won’t really have much impact on the decision, so long as you’ve passed the enquirer on into the appropriate process. The Church doesn’t - or at least shouldn't - rely on incumbents. But your support will be important. You know how tough the process can be - hard enough when it goes right, potentially faith-destroying when it goes wrong. They need you alongside to help them continually assess and make sure it’s the right path, to be there when it’s not going according to plan, to keep them in your prayers. I’m sure you can do all of that, you’re an empathetic person. It’s definitely an exciting thing to share in, anyway.”
“Definitely.”
Ruth glanced at her watch. “I should be thinking about heading back to York and letting you get on. Exciting afternoon ahead?”
Lucy shrugged. “Parishioners. Primary school assembly. Evening prayer. Emails. The usual. Bit of prep for PCC tomorrow.”
“Ah, PCC. Enjoy.”
“Oh, they’re not too bad, I've just about got the hang of running it now. It does help to be the actual incumbent.”
“I'm glad to hear it.”
Ruth reflected on the conversation later, sitting on the train back towards York. Memories seeping back, near-forgotten images – how long it was since she’d been an incumbent herself! A new incumbent, fresh out of curacy, finding her feet, learning to function on her own.
In a place where she’d been chosen by her parishioners, not thrust upon them. That had made a difference. Somewhere she didn’t have to apologise every time she stood at an altar…
She shelved the thought. Three decades had passed since then, the church was a different place now – didn’t she and Lizzie prove that? Well okay, they couldn’t exactly pretend the opposition had gone, but it was just a handful of people now, and they were even giving up on protesting Lizzie, or at least losing their voices.
Her memory wandered again, through ordination after ordination, face after face. Ragged memories of her own ordinations, mostly just a shiver of emotion drowning out all else. The crush of hands from every side, that was the moment which rose and dominated – now coloured by memories since, in every other position of that scene. Of electric weight in her hands. Of the power and authority of God, filling every part of her body and seeping out to bless the world. To share the greatest gifts she had been given, with no dilution to her own share.
Lucy. Why did Lucy stand out, amongst the hundreds? Obviously she wasn’t the only one Ruth had retained some level of contact with – besides those still in her own diocese. She’d drop in on Jake too, and maybe Charlotte, either on a day off or during her empty year, depending how travel worked out. And there were plenty she met on occasion through their involvement at various cathedrals. But of the newer ones… well, obviously Lucy’s journey had been a rough one. They’d got to know each other.
She’d be a good bishop one day.
Ruth shoved the thought away impatiently. Come on, it’s not all about the episcopacy. She’s definitely called to something, no reason that should necessarily involve a mitre. In fact, Ruth wouldn’t be at all surprised if it was something freer than that, something of her own invention. Or she might get one of those diocesan positions created especially to suit her. Or she might just – “just” – stay in the parish, directly tending the souls of her little community, “just” being a priest. In her own way, of course. With her own thing on the side.
With the ease of long practice, Ruth shelved the topic and picked up her phone. Message from her sister – how quickly she’d got used to that, after the first few surprises!
Saw Martin. Good for Friday. Got a babysitter for Archie, Martin at work, so me Mimi & Zack. That okay?
Ruth grinned. Great-nieces and -nephews. She was getting better with children, Tom made sure of that; at least she was getting good at relaxing and letting them create the amusement, something at which Mika at least was an expert. Were other kids like that, or was it just Mika? She’d just have to see… hey, she was fine with primary school visiting and all that. Though that was addressing a whole class, and she could just explain to them the significance of a crozier and talk about sheep…
Come on, Ruth. You’re showing them round Westminster Palace. Don’t have to do small talk, just be a tour guide, that’s easy. Just show them all the shiny stuff and the sword racks and spout a bit of simple history. And try to get to know them, at least a little bit.
Definitely, looking forward to it. 4pm?
She flicked through her tablet gallery for the photo of them. Lou, smiling and exhausted, Archie bawling in her lap. Had she had a hint, then, how things would end? Was it there, behind that screen of makeup, the lingering thought, just waiting to break free?
Near as poss. from school. They’re excited.
Ruth smiled as the train pulled into York station and she summoned a taxi. It was funny, how quickly bridges could spring up. How quickly the tendrils of family could reach out and reel her in.
She unlocked her door and let herself in. The corner of the living room was empty, as ever. No stray tennis balls, no dog bed, no dog. Ruth was efficient and had she’d tidied up, everything bagged up and gone even before Dot was buried. It had been easier than seeing it every time she went home. So no more dog, just a picture on the mantelpiece. She turned around and went outside again, to tread silently across parched lawns to the crude wooden cross and the paving slabs topped with potted flowers. She stayed a couple of minutes and then went back inside. No use letting it become a habit.
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