Brunch and the Great Sermon Handicap
| By Hilary
Bruce If the previous night's revels had left conventioneers with a slight morning head, they showed little sign of it as they squared up to the comestibles on the final day of the convention. Perhaps I detected a peevish note in someone’s voice pointing out that it was a bit dashed early for brunch, and wasn’t 8.30 am traditionally the hour for an early breakfast? Perhaps I did. Perhaps it was in fact my voice … fortunately the bill of fare soon wove its magic and all round the room, early risers were brightening perceptibly. The closing event of the Divine Providence convention centred on an elaborate version of "The Great Sermon Handicap" and starred, not for the first time this weekend, The Very Rev. Father Wendell Verrill. At 9.30 am a member of the congregation (a boy whose voice has not broken by the second Sunday of Septuagesima not being available) opened The New American Bible for Catholics and randomly selected an Old Testament verse upon which the celebrant would base his sermon. The passage chosen was from 2 Samuel, Chap 10, v 1 – The Insult of the Ammonites – and it read “Some time later the King of the Ammonites died, and his son Hanun succeeded him as King”. The presiding cleric seemed somewhat underwhelmed by this selection and one sensed he felt the text had not given him quite the substance he had been hoping for. It lacked scope. The congregation, however, thought it was terribly funny and laughed immoderately, whilst surreptitiously amending their wagers to reflect a likely brief sermon. “I may not stick too closely to the text” advised the Reverend. Based on his previous form, betting slips were altered once more. We had heard Wendell Verrill when he gave of his best, and we were confident. At this point he was supposed to be ‘retiring to muse upon the selected passage’. In fact, he was behind a pillar reading the sweepstake prize, a book of Punch cartoons with a clerical tone. The British contingent was fascinated by the rather beautiful wicker baskets on long poles which now appeared and there was speculation as to their original purpose. Harvesting apples perhaps? Handing out mints? No, they were for collecting the Collection in church. And now, oh shame, they were collecting betting slips. But our cleric seemed not at all perturbed as he approached the microphone, hauled up his slacks and began. “Dear Hearts …”. From his opening remarks we learned that preaching was fraught with danger for the tired or novice preacher, that one congregation had been advised that Jesus had been baptised by Jordan in the john, another turned in his dog collar after preaching on the theme of ‘castigating the people for widening their tassels and lengthening their philacteries’ and getting the key words horribly wrong. He then confided that in 44 years of vicaring, he was seeing this passage – the Insult to the Ammonites – for the first time. But he had read on and discovered that David had sent emissaries to Hanun to sympathise on his loss; Hanun suspected them of scoping the country out for invasion so he shaved off half their beards, cut off the lower halves of their garments at the buttocks, and sent them away. Naturally insulted, David came back, and wiped out the country. “You can’t make this stuff up” said the Reverend, dabbing tears from his eyes. There was a lot of smiting in the Old Testament, he continued, rather less in the New and you had to wonder of the Authority that ordered these things “What changed his mind?”. Wendell closed by describing the picture that the chosen passage had conjured in his mind. It was of David’s chaps, each with only half a beard, badly shortened garments and exposed buttocks, and every one of them wondering how they were going to get home with their dignity intact. The applause was tumultuous, for the congregation recognised that they had witnessed a master at work, a man with tones so sonorous and mellifluous that the minutes had flown by. And, crucially, they had seen a man that had spoken on so unpromising a subject for no less than 11 minutes and 45 seconds. And thus, having correctly estimated Father Wendell’s form, Mike Iwanaga, a member of both the US and UK Societies, learned he would soon be returning home to Tokyo with a slightly-thumbed copy of a book of Punch cartoons with a clerical tone. There were closing presentations to the retiring TWS President, organiser of this truly vintage convention – the UK Society awarded her a Lord’s cricket ball with the name Plum lettered in gold – and for I believe the first time in her life, Jean Tillson was rendered speechless. As the standing ovation continued, Jean waved an authoritative hand and instructed us “See you in 2009, in St Paul.” Absolutely. |