Newsletter 25th May: Sons of the Manse

The Prime Minister frequently refers to the fact that his father was a minister of the church, and taught him his values. As another son of the manse, I understand this – and also that there are other lessons you learn growing up in a vicarage.

When my dad died at 54 (the age I am now), no-one in the parish had a bad word to say about him, and I nearly drowned in the good ones. He had worked long hours, very hard, doing things that sometimes very few people knew about. He tried, to the utmost of his ability, to follow Jesus, seven days a week. From his morning prayers at six thirty to (sometimes very) late evenings, meeting all sorts of people, he was busy. Mealtimes were usually disrupted, because people knew the vicar would be at home then.

I saw relatively little of a man whose saintly qualities largely escaped me. With hindsight, I can see how hard he tried to be a good father: making time for family outings (as a teenager, I hated these); finding thoughtful presents for birthdays and Christmas (never the ones I most wanted); appreciating my academic gifts and uncomplaining about my incompetence at games (though he had been a brave and strong sportsman, I now know).

I do know that his job, effectively, killed him. He simply worked too hard, and spent too little time on looking after his health and bonding with his family. I know that church leaders are only human, and need time and energy for themselves and their families. The fact that if we need them, they will always come to us doesn’t excuse our tendency to expect them always to be there in more minor crises – or even when we just want to chat.

They give us so much: we should give them some space, and support in the things that they need to do to sustain their mental and physical health as well as their spiritual side. May God grant us the sense, the kindness and the judgment to give them what they need to support them on their journey towards Heaven as they walk along with us.