25th
July 2012
Maisie my cat is outside all day, she doesn't put her nose outside the door unless it's at least 30 degrees. I stay in, near a large fan as much as I can. But today I braved
the horrible heat, why oh why didn’t I ask for “aircon” in my car, for the coffee morning at the vicarage in Ealing. We sat in the garden for the first
time this summer and that wasn’t the only surprise. We were visited by an
Archbishop of Malawi, apparently they have several, and his wife.
He
seemed a sweet, gentle man but I was surprised by the wife in her bright blue
robes with big frill round the bust. Gladys, a Nigerian lady who celebrated her
80th birthday on Sunday produced some chocolates. She gave them to
me to hand round. Archbishop’s wife grabbed them, took three out of the box,
handed them to him then made no attempt to pass them on. Then came my biscuits
and another cake from Gladys’s birthday party. The wife seemed to have been
struck dumb as she made no attempt at conversation, did not introduce herself,
make eye contact or smile, just grabbed everything I handed out, without a word
of thanks.
Eventually,
offering her another piece of cake I said, “thank you” pointedly. She smiled at
me faintly and murmured it like a good child.
Our
vicar, Bill, asked the bishop to say a few words. At first he was silent. I thought he
might have dropped off in the heat, but then he launched into a peroration, beginning with the subject of
greed. I couldn’t help thinking that was
pertinent as I glanced at his fat wife’s swanky Swiss bracelet watch.
I was
determined to do him the courtesy of listening intently. Some of it was quite
interesting; he said he came from a very
poor area of peasant farmers, talked about the “slaughter” of Christians by
Muslims in Africa, particularly in Nigeria. The indifference of foreign governments including UK and USA.
Then he added that he’d heard that Obama’s govt was supporting the Muslim
rebels in northern Nigeria.
I was aware that some people's attention was slipping, they were cutting more cake, fiddling about and great monolith wife was
looking at her mobile. Now and then he would stop talking and seemed to be
praying but it was hard to say.
When it
was fairly clear he had finished I leaned forward to ask him whether our Archbishop of Canterbury is
interested in the plight of Christians
in Nigeria. His eyes remained shut and he did not answer. I didn’t know if he’d
heard. The stone faced wife gave him a nudge, he opened his eyes and his mouth
to speak, but at that moment Father Bill insisted we all turned round to have
photos taken.
I
retreated to the shade and sat staring
at someone’s long, uncut, desiccated toe nail. At the table in the sun, the
wife went on sitting silently beside her husband, and I wondered how she could come from such a poor area and sit there with expensive watch, grabbing cake.
On the
way out I told Fr. Bill that I thought they were a disappointing couple. He
shook his head.
“There are problems with African clergy” he said wearily. “It’s extremely hierarchical.
She is used to a very high status."
"You can’t fight that at a coffee morning in Ealing”he snapped.
"You can’t fight that at a coffee morning in Ealing”he snapped.
I wasn't trying. It was far too hot. He also
said very sadly that the bishop was “In the grip of American evangelists in
Texas, who are very generous.”
That explained the mixture of prayer and speech,
the constant closed eyes, and the
strange implication that the Obama gov’t is supporting Al Qaeda backed murderers in Nigeria.
I had a
vision of this somehow very innocent African couple touring Europe and America
picked up hither and thither by well meaning groups vying to support them for a whole
variety of reasons, some worthy others utterly misguided.
They were on their way to Hastings next where their son is due to get married. If
the bride is anything like the mother I think it will be a case of marry in
Hastings repent at leisure. Image of Fr. Bill worrying that I might write something libellous.