Summer ‘92
Dear Sirs,
For some time now, my local vicar has been obsessed by money. It was beginning to annoy; becoming somewhat of a pain up the chesticles, so to speak.
I now find that his obsession stems from you. That lad could have caught his death of cage wheels, thanks to your chicanery. And for why? Because the Church Commissioners are stopping your cough drops, so you put the screws on the parishioners. Need money? Easy- wring it out of the peasants! You’re certainly a bunch of traditionalists; I’ll give you that.
The Church Commissioners, as front men of the Anglican Church, probably have control of more money than the Queen (God bless her) more clout than the Mafia, and more property and business interests than the Duke of Westminster, in other words, they have scope, but they say they are feeling the pinch, and that’s accepted. You put up a long and gory fight, I’m sure. The old, the sick and the unemployed, who form a large portion of rural parishes, don’t need to say they’re feeling the pinch; it’s quite self-evident. Even those with jobs don’t know how long they’ll last, unless they’ve had the pink slip in the wage packet saying how long. In short, we’re all hard up, but what is your message? Your words of comfort? What is your idea of a glad tiding, your good news in your epistle to the plebs? “You could and should meet the shortfall”-your underlining.
Then the veiled threats- if you don’t cough up your dibs, if you renege on your union dues, if you welsh on your Sunday manila, you’ll lose your clergy and there’ll be no-one to bury you, then you’ll lose your church and there’ll be nowhere for you to bury each other. Very inspiring, very consoling- especially for some old lady who’s husband is already under the hallowed sod, and she fears she’s going to get trolleyed off to the re-cycling plant at St Faith’s, without a by-your-leave. Yes, it is silly, and I am over-simplifying, but the threat has been made- in print.
Then last Sunday we scaled a new depth. The clergy, as instructed in writing, preached on the subject- of folding brown, that is. That, I find odious. Preaching should come from the heart, not from the ledger. Preaching should be the result of inspiration, not the result of a heavy memo from Mr Sharkey in accounts. ‘Propaganda’ is the word for it. Propaganda can be described as the manipulation of free minds by the application of selected information. I just made that up, meself. I think I’ll plump for ‘malodorous’- it stinks For me to put a pound in your tin cup now, I first have to borrow that pound from Barclays. There’s lots in the same fix, but we’re lucky compared to lots of others who Barclays won’t lend a pound to in the first place.
The general public are down to basics; there is no room for adjustment. We are short of money for heat, water, food, housing and clothing. We seem to live on the coffee and cakes we keep selling to each other to raise money for books for schools, beds for hospitals, kidneys for children. The only thing we’re not short of is people asking for, demanding, helping themselves to, or withholding our money.
The Diocesan Board of Finance (it’s a grand title you’ve got) should review its own position first, (so do it again; you can only improve with practice) trim some fat, go over the expense account with a blowlamp, review spending, and when you think you’re asbestos, gird your loins, (I can’t stand an un-girded loin) and re-commence battle with the Anglican Mafia. Try telling them they could and should. Tell them that ‘no’ is not an option. Don’t tell us; we’re sick of hearing it- from gorillas with their big hairy mitts full of un-paid bills!
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No reply; no acknowledgement; not a whisper.
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