Paul Moorcraft - The Anchoress of Shere

Bishop Templeton was already sitting at a reserved table when Duval arrived promptly at one. Duval’s superior indulged himself, while sipping sherry, in a zestful diatribe about cricket for twenty minutes before moving on to Church matters.

Templeton launched immediately into his views on the liberal trends in the American Church, complaining that the papacy was using its strength to downgrade the role of theologians and fill vacant bishoprics with yes-men. “Rome,” he said, in his nasal version of received pronunciation, “is trying to reverse all the progressive developments we have made on the Pill, on marriage annulments and upon attitudes towards sex, including homosexuality.”

Duval’s energetic views on the principle of individual relationships with God made him a natural opponent of the over-centralised, over-dogmatic Church, but like all zealous converts he was at heart a traditionalist. Besides, he felt he had to engage the bishop in Church matters beyond Guildford, if only to distract him.

“Surely, Your Grace, the papacy is by definition authoritarian.” Duval’s voice was not as confident as his words. “There is a very long history supporting the papal right to appoint bishops. Christ did not form a subcommittee of apostles, did He? He did not take a vote on the subject of His own crucifixion.”

Bishop Templeton raised his eyebrows slightly, and recommenced his tirade: “Maybe not, but recently cardinals have been treated like altar boys. There is a culture of fear, a culture of passivity…Rome is out of touch, especially with the Church in the Third World. Take the ‘liberation’ theology in Latin America. We can’t stand against it because if we do so we’ll lose the people. We have to understand the constant conflicts between authority and conscience. And we must be on the side of conscience.”

“But where do you stop?” Duval asked with some passion. “The history of the Catholic Church has depended on its unity, its uniformity. It has survived all other empires in history because of its centralising strength. If you start saying that Latin America can do this, Africa can do that, there will be another schism. You have to hold the line…”

“Against the tide of moral relativism?” The bishop bestowed upon his words a smug smile.

“Yes. Absolutely,” Duval said indignantly.

“And so Rome becomes as rigid as Moscow?” countered the bishop. “QED, I’d say.”

Duval had recently said as much to Marda. He was losing the argument, so he switched to another tack: “Perhaps, your Grace, it’s not a question of papal dogma. I accept the Pope’s infallibility on matters spiritual. I think some of the errors made, and there have been many, relate more to personal factors-old age, tiredness and stress. Clearly the cardinals and bishops should support the pontiff more wholeheartedly, not add further problems.”

“What further problems?” Templeton tilted his head quizzically, and looked directly at the priest.

“Well, I mean specifically abandoning the old rites and rituals,” Duval said. “The liberal position often regards these shibboleths as meaningless gibberish. They say they have to ‘dump’ Latin services for the sake of the worldwide flock. I know that few could understand the liturgy, but it is not mumbo jumbo. In word and form Church Latin is beautiful, the crystallisation of fifteen hundred years of intellect, of a love of God and a healthy terror of His divine anger.”

Duval was into his stride now: “Trendy guerrilla priests in South America or folksy fathers in New York strumming guitars will not create a populist, or popular, Church, but will destroy the authority built up over centuries.”

Duval examined the bishop’s expression to see whether he should continue. He did not see a stop sign. “I do not deny the need for Rome to be flexible, but this…this… sociological Church will no longer stand as a beacon against evil. Soon anything will go. The brightest and most sincere priests will leave and soon there will be few male priests, celibate or not. You will have to ordain women, God forbid! Why not make the Pope a woman? That’s the logical conclusion to liberalism.”

The bishop smiled; he thought they were both now debating for the sake of it, not from principle. None of these things was likely to happen. He couldn’t quite accept that Duval was in deadly earnest.

Over dessert, Templeton came to the point of the lunch: “Michael, I know we’ve had our difficulties in the past, and I’ve always tried to, er, smooth them over and find a way forward. But it would seem that, in spite of not inconsiderable effort on my part, some of the problems are coming to a head.”

Duval looked only slightly pained: “You are referring,” he said, “to complaints from my congregation, I presume.”

“Yes and other little sundries that keep occurring. I don’t need to rehearse them again. The Lord knows, I’ve tried to help you: you’ve been given reduced responsibilities for some three years now. You are almost sine cura , although admittedly partly at your own request so you can complete your, er, book. How’s it coming along, by the way? Have you found a publisher yet?”

“It is almost completed.” Duval was guarded.

“When may I see something of it?” asked the bishop politely. “You have always been so reluctant to let anyone see it.”

Duval shifted in his seat. “Well, Bishop, it is rather unorthodox. It is, as I explained in the synopsis, a modern interpretation of the role of contemplation in the fourteenth century. It is not a scholarly work as such, but rather an attempt to interest modern, by which I mean popular, readers in this neglected area of Church practice. That’s my concession to populism, if you like, and it is mainly aimed at women readers. I think sometimes we tend to neglect the largest group within the Catholic community, don’t you?”

The bishop ignored the diversionary cue: “It’s a pity, then, that it’s women who’ve complained about you, but I shan’t dwell on the details because we have discussed this already. However, I do look forward to seeing your book. And I would expect you to show it to your superiors before it’s published, especially if, despite your conservatism, it’s perhaps a mite unorthodox-but don’t let me put you off. You know that I’m trying to move the Church forward as fast as I can, without undermining her sacred tenets, of course.”

The bishop patted the small golden cross that hung from his neck. “What I really wanted to talk to you about was a change of direction for you. In the light of the flurry of criticisms, I don’t want you to suffer any possible scandal…”

“But…”

“Hear me out, Michael. I want to do what’s best for you, and this is what I’ve decided. I think a period of missionary work in South America might suit you.”

“Bishop, I must object…”

“You can see some of this newfangled liberation theology at first hand. With your intellectual gifts I’m sure you will begin to understand the new theories and you will certainly master Spanish quickly. In fact, I’ve arranged a language course for you for three months in a seminary near La Paz.”

“Bolivia?” asked Duval, unable to conceal his astonishment.

“Indeed,” continued Templeton firmly. “After that there are two missionary stations in rather more remote parts of the country which would benefit from your talents. Once you’re there you can decide which one is suitable. After all, you have shown a great interest in anchorites, so you can hardly object to being cut off from the busy world for a while, can you? Consider it not as the back of beyond, but as God’s front-line. It would provide precisely the right sort of spiritual refreshment.”