The Curious Incident Of The Bishop In The Night

by Adam Harbinson

 

 

‘I’m a Bishop. This is what I do!

So, what did you think of the escapades of the Bishop of Southwark? The media scrum just loved it of course, for on a day when the Suffolk Police launched their biggest ever manhunt for the murder of three prostitutes in Ipswich, the BBC sent a reporter to re-trace the steps of the errant clergyman and gave the incident headline coverage. But there’s a funny side to it of course; for starters he’d been at a party in the Irish Embassy – where else – and he ended up in a street called Crucifix Lane, sitting in the back seat of somebody’s Mercedes throwing toys out the window.

Now, is that a disgrace or is it not? Frankly, I think we can take the whole thing far too seriously, I also think the response of the media, and of his colleagues can tell us a lot. The fact is, he’s a man. What’s the big deal about a mere man getting himself a little bit tiddly and doing something silly? I’ve been the homes of many ministers who wouldn’t be seen dead in a pub, I’ve noticed their well-stocked fridges, but maybe it’s OK so long as you’re discrete? Or maybe that’s where they keep the wine that turns into Ribena when they pray over it at communion!

The problem is that the Bishop has been placed on a pedestal. The suggestion that he may have enjoyed being there isn’t the point. He may even have exploited his position, for the word is that he was a bit over zealous as he sorted out his unruly clergy. But that’s not the point either. To place a man, any man, on a pedestal is to lock him in a sterile bubble in which he doesn’t have the luxury of human weaknesses, and that’s the reason why the churches fail to engage with their communities – their leaders are not seen as being normal.

So, why the media interest in what appears to be an isolated incident? Obviously, if the man was coming home every Saturday night roaring drunk, hurling abuse and beer bottles at his neighbours’ windows, that would be a different matter, but clearly he’s not. Maybe the media enjoy poking fun at an establishment figure, nothing more sinister, or it could be that to knock a man off his holy podium makes the rest of us look good.

I think of Tony Campolo – now there’s a guy with neither airs nor graces. I forget what he was preaching about on this occasion, but he said to his audience, ‘You might be sitting there thinking, “If you knew the thoughts that go through my head, you wouldn’t be too happy preaching to me.” But,’ said Tony, ‘if you knew the thoughts that sometimes go through my head you mightn’t be too happy sitting there listening.’

It’s all about being real with people, isn’t it? Maybe that’s why many religious leaders can’t engage with real people in a real way – and that’s not necessarily a criticism of them, it’s the way they’ve been trained, they’ll tell you that themselves.   

We should all wind our necks in, the Bishop of Southwark should get a good telling off by Rowan Williams, he should apologise to the vicars he’s been so hard on, he should give the Mercedes man back his toys in exchange for his mobile phone, and there it should end.

But let Jesus have the last word: ‘Don’t let people do that to you, put you on a pedestal like that … don’t set people up as experts over your life, letting them tell you what to do. Save that authority for God; let him tell you what to do.’ (Matthew 23. The Message).

 

But what do you think? Tell us