NOTE: This play concerning parish conflict was written in the 1980’s. The particular issue its center is long-past — should girls be acolytes?  But the dynamics of conflict have not changed. You can read the play in the light of any current conflict.

A parish morality play

Characters

In order of appearance:

Agnes Whitlock, parishioner of St. Philip’s Episcopal Church

Mary Carson, junior warden
Harriett Berman, parishioner
Winifred Jordan, wife of Major Jordan
Major Jordan, senior warden
Rick Campbell, vestrymember
Gina Bonnelli, vestrymember
Gladys Anderson, parishioner
Baxter Homan, vestrymember and treasurer
Jim Whitlock, vestrymember, husband of Agnes
Samuel Blackburn, lay reader
Jeannette (“Nettie”) Blackburn, his wife, lay reader and vestrymember
Owen (“Olly”) Whitlock, son of Jim and Agnes
Woodward (“Woody”) Berman, son of Harriett
William Campbell, son of Rick
Harry Prior, vestrymember
Thomas (“Tip”) Thompson, parishioner
Steven Franklin, parishioner
Michael Bogan, first vicar of St. Philip’s Church
John Jameson, second vicar
Other parishioners

ACT ONE

Scene One. The parish house of St. Philip’s Church sometime in the mid-1980’s. A pass-through and a door to the kitchen are on the left. Double doors to the hallway are at center rear. The furnishings have been arranged for a stand-up reception. At the left is a table upon which are set a silver tea service and coffee urn. At the right is a table upon which will soon be put a large flat cake and many gaily-wrapped gifts. Off to one corner is a third table for serving fruit juice and cookies to the children. On a large paper banner are painted the words, “We’ll miss you, Father Bogan!”

Two women enter by the kitchen door.

Agnes. Don’t you feel guilty, Mary, sneaking out of the service like this? I always do. Sometimes when we’re leaving the communion rail to come out here I have the feeling Father Bogan will look up from the altar, point a finger at me in front of everybody, and say in a loud voice, “Agnes Whitlock, you come back here! You can’t sneak out of here like that! Do you think kitchen work is more important than the work of the Lord?”

Mary. Oh Agnes, you always think everybody’s looking at you. Don’t you know, even though Father Bogan talks that way, he knows as well as we do that somebody’s got to get out here and see to the kitchen. He talks pious. He’s supposed to. But he’s as practical as anybody else. And besides, today he’s anxious to have everything ready for his farewell. You know how he watches over every detail. Don’t tell me he wants to come out here after the service and find us just starting!

The women begin to put cookies and little cakes on the serving table. They take a large flat cake from the pass-through and put it on the right hand table. They take gift boxes from a cupboard and put them out. Etc.

Agnes. I do hope Major Jordan has everybody’s speeches all properly arranged.

Mary. Don’t worry. If there’s anything the Major likes, it’s telling other people what to do and how to do it. My concern is Father Bogan. The two sides of his character are going to be in mortal combat this morning. He fusses over every detail and gets upset when they don’t go right, but he’s also very sentimental. He’s going to be deeply moved, and he might not do his own part in the perfect way he likes. I can just see him worrying afterwards because he was so choked up he didn’t make exactly the right speech.

Agnes. Father Bogan? Mary, what are you talking about? What’s he got to be worried about? We’re doing everything for him. We’re giving him this farewell. We’re giving him presents. We’re giving him thank you speeches. All he has to do is sit and listen and lap it up. I wish I had a life as easy as his. Priests are always judging others; nobody judges them.

Two women enter breathlessly.

Harriett. Good morning, Mary. Good morning, Agnes.

Mary and Agnes. Good morning, Harriett. Good morning, Winnie.

Harriet. Are the tea and coffee ready? Winnie and I have agreed that she will take the coffee and I will take the tea. Ah yes, I see you’ve put out the anniversary settings— good. Winnie, we’d better get in place; they’ll be here any moment.

Voices are heard from the hallway. Parishioners enter talking. Some go to the serving table. Others gather in clumps. Major Jordan, small of stature, graying, tweedy, mustached, a stereotype of the retired Major, bustles in, goes to front and center, looks at each corner of the room, grabs a younger man by the arm, and pulls him front and center.

Major Jordan. Are they ready? Did you brief Anderson and Bonnelli? I see they’re in position at each corner of the room.

Rick [patiently]. Yes, Major. I’ve briefed them. When you start clapping, they’ll start clapping. I’ve also asked two of the women to hold Father Bogan in the sacristy for a minute or two on some excuse or other so we’re sure everything is ready before he gets here.

Major Jordan. Very good, Campbell. Now we must check on the other arrangements.

They seek out Mary and Agnes. Gina and Gladys now come from the serving table into the place the two men have just vacated.

Gina. Oh, Gladys, I don’t know what we’re going to do without him. I know the bishop will send us another priest, and I know that he’ll be just fine, and I know that a church is not built on the priest— but what are we going to do? Whenever I’ve felt low, I’ve been able to go to him, and he understands. I know I’m silly, but I get worried, and he’s always been so patient and has made me feel so much better. What am I going to do? What if the new priest doesn’t understand?

Gladys. Maybe you should talk to your husband, Gina, instead of the priest.

Gina. Gladys! You’re awful! You know I can’t do that! Joe would never understand.

Gladys. Well, I’m glad Father Bogan understands, and I hope the new priest will too.

They move off. Two more take their place.

Baxter. Jim, I just hope the new priest is a little more practical and a little more relaxed than Father Bogan. Father Bogan is always wanting to give away our parish funds, and he’s always fussing over things. I’d like someone who realizes that we have to stash money away for a rainy day instead of giving it to the cathedral or to somebody we don’t even know; and I’d like a priest that doesn’t fuss about whether the acolytes wear gym shoes under their robes.

Jim. Baxter, I don’t think you and I will ever agree about money. I’m with Father Bogan, and I hope the new priest will be too. But I agree with you about the gym shoes and the fussiness. I’d like somebody more relaxed too.

They move away. Samuel and Jeannette Blackburn stop Major Jordan at the center as he is bustling across the room.

Sam. Major, just a moment. Nettie and I were talking. We’re concerned about the lay readers. You’re the director; so you’re the one to speak up for us. What do you suppose the new priest will do? Will he know how important the lay readers are to this parish? Will we have to be licensed all over again? Will we have to take vocal projection and expression tests again?

Major Jordan. Sam, I just don’t know, and I confess I’m as concerned as you are. I’m afraid the new priest may not realize how vital to the health of this parish the lay readers are, and how important it is for him to pay special attention to the group. Maybe not every priest would be as willing as Father Bogan was to meet Sunday noon. But since we make it fun by having lunch together and since it’s only once a month, I figure it shouldn’t be too hard to adjust to the way we do things. Maybe it’ll mean a little extra effort, but he should be willing.

Sam. I agree, Major, I agree. But I don’t think it’s any special effort for Father Bogan. He enjoys our time together. He doesn’t have a wife and children; so we’re his family.

Major Jordan. One of the first things I’ll do with the new priest is impress upon him how important the lay readers are to this parish and to him. But now excuse me, I have things to see to.

They move off. Three high school boys take their place.

Olly. I just hope he doesn’t let girls into the acolytes.

Woody. That’d be awful! We have a good time together, and girls would just spoil it. Besides they don’t know how to serve. They wouldn’t do a good job at all.

Bill. Aw, we don’t have anything to worry about. Remember how we all talked about it, and how we all decided not to let girls in. Not even our mothers wanted girls to be acolytes.

Olly. But it was close, Bill. Don’t forget it was close. Some of the mothers want girls to be acolytes, and who knows what the new priest might do.

They move off. Three men take their place.

Harry. I hope the new priest has long arms and long legs.

Tip. Long arms and long legs! What for?

Steve. You know! Harry’s thinking about the men’s Sunday afternoon basketball. He wants a priest that can really dunk that ball.

Tip. Oh, yeah, sure. I knew that. Well, when you said it…well.

Harry. Listen. We gotta have a regular guy. None of this stuck up stuff like some priests— where they’re better than you. We want a guy who’s regular, just like Father Bogan— only with long arms and long legs.

Steve. Father Bogan’s not a regular guy. It just seems that way sometimes because he plays basketball with us and goes to our children’s school plays and their football games; and he remembers our birthdays and anniversaries. But did you ever call him by his first name?

Harry. His first name! You don’t call priests by their first name! They’re special.

Steve. That’s what I mean. He’s the father. You never forget he’s the father.

Tip. We don’t even call the Major by his first name.

Harry. He doesn’t have a first name.

Steve. But that’s different. The Major needs his title— especially since he’s no longer in the army. Who’d he be without it? Father Bogan’s not like that, but I’d never call him Mike!

Major Jordan suddenly rushes up.

Major Jordan [in a hoarse whisper]. Now! Now! Clap now! Here he comes!

The hall doors open. Everybody turns toward them and begins clapping. Father Bogan enters, dressed in black clericals. He looks a bit startled, breaks into a broad smile, clasps his hands over his head and shakes them, then begins to clap too.

Scene Two. An evening two months later. The parish hall is set up for a vestry meeting. Three tables are set in a U shape with the opening toward the audience. Seated at the center of the crossing table on the outside of the U, facing the audience, is Major Jordan. To his left is Mary. To his right is Baxter. On the outsides of the other tables are the remaining vestrymembers: Rick, Gina, Jim, Nettie, and Harry.

Major Jordan. There are two issues before us tonight— one is the proposal made by our junior warden, Carson here [The Major tosses his head sideways towards Mary without looking at her], that we delay getting a new priest and do a parish self-study first; the other is what I trust will be our main item of business, the election of our new vicar. As you know, we are a mission church, rather than a self-supporting parish, and so the bishop could appoint our new priest for us, if he wanted to. But he doesn’t want to. He wants us to act like a parish as much as possible. That’s why he calls this body a vestry, he calls me senior warden, and he calls Carson here [Tosses head] junior warden. He wants us to elect our new vicar, and I think that’s what we should do. But Carson here [Tosses head] has another idea. She wants— but let’s have her do the explaining. Carson.

Mary. I don’t think we’re ready yet for a new priest. I know we’ve met with two candidates, two fine men, two very promising interviews. But they’re the ones who are ready; we are not. 
 Father Bogan was with us for 20 years. He is an exceptionally fine priest, and the only priest this parish has ever had. The diocese sent him here to found this parish, and he did. Everything here bears the stamp of his personality. He chose the building plans. He chose the cross over the altar. He chose the vestments. He chose how we do the service. He trained our acolytes, our lay readers, our altar guild. In many ways he chose us, his parishioners and his vestry, too, because we who are here are the ones who fit his way of doing things. We are the ones who came to this parish instead of to St. Thomas’s or St. Paul’s; and we did it because we liked what we found here— and that’s because of Father Bogan.


Now we need to find ourselves, independently of Father Bogan. A new priest is not going to be Father Bogan. A new priest will be different. We will not be able to make a new priest over into Father Bogan’s image. We need to take a good look at who we are. We need to settle some things among ourselves. Then we will be ready to call a new priest.


I move that we delay the calling of a new priest by six months in order to do a self-study and to prepare more thoroughly for the new priest.

Rick. I second the motion.

Major Jordan. I know that Carson here [Tosses head] means well. I know she has our good at heart, and once in a while she has even proved to be right. But in this case I feel she is urging us to make a major mistake. I know it’s the fashion these days to do the sort of thing she suggests. It’s very much the rage. But I’m old-fashioned. What we need is not very complicated. We need a priest who will do the services, see to the Sunday School and the youth, and bring in new people. Father Bogan got us started, and I don’t wish to criticize him, but everyone of us here knows what his weakness was— he just wasn’t a go-getter. He never got in new people after those first few years; he only kept us going. We need someone with youth and vigor, who’s good with young people, and who will attract newcomers. I don’t see any sense in wasting time with a study.

Rick raises his hand.

Major Jordan. Campbell.

Rick. I’d like to support Mary’s suggestion. I think it’s unrealistic for us to expect a new priest to bring in newcomers. We all know— or we should all know— that after the first few years of this parish’s life, this community stopped growing in population. We’ve stood still in numbers in this community as well as the parish for the past 15 years. I think what the Major says just underlines our need for a self-study. We need to become clear about what we expect from a new priest, and increasing our numbers I don’t believe should be one of them.

Gina raises her hand.

Major Jordan. Bonnelli.

Gina. I think we should be sure to get a priest who is a good listener, someone who is patient and understands people. There are a lot of people in this parish who need to be able to talk to their priest.

Major Jordan. Bonnelli, I’m sure you’re right. Priests should be understanding. But that’s not what we’re discussing now. We’re discussing whether or not to have a self-study.

Mary, Rick, and Jim speak simultaneously— But— Major Jordan!— That’s—

Major Jordan. One at a time. One at a time. Whitlock.

Jim. Gina was right on the subject, Major. She was beginning to do what we all should do in a self-study. She was beginning to tell us what she thinks our important needs are in a priest. It’s exactly because you and she and others don’t agree on what we need— whether we need a good listener or a people-getter or what— we can’t have everything in one priest— that’s why we need a self-study. I suspect the sensitive listener Gina wants is not likely to be the people-getter you want.

Major Jordan. Now there I think you’re wrong. I think we have such a person right now. I think we’ve talked to him. I think Father John Jameson is just the man for us. He’s young. He’s vigorous. He has a fine, attractive personality. He’s right out of seminary; so he’s up-to-date. I’m sure he’s a good listener. Didn’t you feel that when you talked to him!

Baxter. He’s not going to break our pocketbooks either. I know that’s an unpopular matter to bring up. But the fact is that the other man, Father Stowton, is a lot senior to Father Jameson and will cost us more money— money we don’t have. I think that with Father Jameson we will not only be getting youth and vigor, we will be getting a reasonable price.

Noticeable silence.

Major Jordan. Well, yes, Homan, you’re right, of course, but for the moment you’re out of order. We’re not discussing the two candidates yet; we’re discussing the matter of a self-study. Are there any other comments on Carson here’s [Tosses head] proposal for a self-study?

Harry. I know what I want, and Father Jameson sounds like just the guy.

Nettie. I liked what he said about lay readers.

Major Jordan. Are we ready to vote? [Pauses.] All those in favor of Carson here’s [Tosses head] motion for a self-study raise your right hand.

Mary, Rick, and Jim raise their hands.

Major Jordan. All those opposed use the same sign.

Gina, Baxter, Nettie, and Harry raise their hands.

Major Jordan. The vote is four to three in the negative. The motion fails. We will now proceed to the main item of business, the election of a new priest. All of you but Harry here were present at the interviews of Fathers Jameson and Stowton. We had a thorough discussion of the two men with the special committee last Sunday, for which Harry was present. We have had a brief discussion of the two men and of the issues involved just now, although most of it was out of order. Are there any further comments? Are you ready to vote?

Mary. I have some comments.


I said earlier that both are fine men. Either one could be a fine vicar of St. Philip’s. I am prepared to support and help whoever we call, yet I do believe there is a clear and important difference between the two men that leads me to urge the election of Father Stowton.


Father Jameson has been a priest for barely a month. As you know, his only experience as an ordained parish minister is the six months he has just completed as a deacon on the staff of a large parish. He would come to us, in other words, almost straight from seminary. Father Stowton, on the other hand, has had twelve years experience in parish life, three years in his first parish and nine in his second. He was frank with us about the difficulties he had in his first parish and about what he learned from them. He was also frank about his strengths and weaknesses. We know that if we call him we will be getting a man who is experienced and skilled in counseling, pastoral work, routine parish administration, and preaching. We know also that he does not see himself as skilled in youth work, community work, or promotional work. If we call him we can depend upon him for the first kinds of work and we will have to provide some other way for the rest. But, most important of all, we know that Father Stowton understands himself and parishes. He knows how parishes work, how parishioners react to him, how he needs to respond to their various expectations, and what effects his particular personality and ways of doing things are likely to have.


I think Father Jameson is a fine young man, but I am afraid of what will happen to him and to us if we call someone with so little experience or training in the complexities of parishes. I am appalled that our seminaries offer such inadequate preparation in this respect. From everything I can tell they depend far too much upon their graduates’ becoming assistants in large parishes, or upon their doing as Father Stowton says he did— making a lot of mistakes and learning from the pain!
 I intend to vote for Father Stowton and I urge you to do the same.

Baxter. I didn’t mean to speak. I thought I had said everything when I talked earlier about Father Jameson’s youth and vigor and reasonable salary expectations. But when Mary talks about Father Stowton, a man who admits to failing in several very important ways, I can’t keep quiet.
 Did you hear Father Stowton talk about the misunderstandings he has had with parishioners? Did you hear how he talked about disappointing them? About the expectations that he failed to meet? Did you hear about the conflicts in his parishes?
 Is that the kind of man you want?


I find it hard to believe that Mary is serious. But I’ve heard her talk in this impractical way before; so I suppose she is.


Do you want a man who expects conflict and difficulty instead of a young and vigorous man whose seminary record is as excellent as Father Jameson’s and whose attitude is so cheerful and outgoing? I know which I want, and I imagine that all of you do too.

Rick. Mary, I have to part company with you here. I supported the notion of a self-study, because I really think we can benefit from a period of readjustment from the loss of one priest and of preparation for a new one. But I think that if we are going to vote now, we ought to go with someone of ability instead of someone whose record is so spotty. I feel for Father Stowton. I sympathize with his pain and with his dedication, but he’s oriented in a negative way. He expects problems. I don’t like that. I want a positive, forward looking attitude in our new vicar.
 I am going to vote for Father Jameson.

[Silence.]

Major Jordan. Does anyone else wish to speak?


If not, are you ready to vote?


All those in favor of Father Stowton raise your right hand.

Mary raises her hand.

Major Jordan. All those in favor of Father Jameson raise your right hand.

All the rest, except the chairman, raise their hands.

Major Jordan. Father Jameson is elected.


Will the clerk please record the results of the election and send a copy to the bishop so that he knows that we wish to hire Father Jameson at the diocesan minimum wage.

Scene three. Two months later. Setting as in Scene One, except this time the banner reads, “Welcome Father Jack Jameson!”

Agnes and Mary enter as in Scene One.

Agnes. Didn’t you just love that sermon, Mary! I never realized how stuffy and out-of-date Father Bogan was until now; Father Jameson— er, Father Jack— is so much more up on things! Isn’t he wonderful! And I don’t feel at all guilty about sneaking out after communion to get ready for coffee hour! Father Jack would never say an unkind word!

Mary. Yes, Agnes, he is a nice young man. I think we are all going to like him very much.

The women busy themselves as before— except there are no gifts or flat cake.

Harriett and Winifred enter breathlessly.

Harriett. Good morning, Mary. Good morning, Agnes.

Mary and Agnes. Good morning, Harriett. Good morning, Winnie.

Harriett. Are the tea and coffee ready? Winnie and I have agreed that she will take the coffee and I will take the tea. Ah yes, I see you’ve put out the anniversary settings— good. Winnie, we’d better get in place; they’ll be here any moment.

Voices are heard from the hallway. Parishioners enter. Major Jordan bustles in, goes to front and center, looks at each corner of the room, grabs Rick by the arm, and pulls him front and center.

Major Jordan. Are they ready? Did you brief Anderson and Bonnelli? I see they’re in position at each corner of the room.

Rick [patiently]. Yes, Major. I’ve briefed them. When you start clapping, they’ll start clapping. I’ve also asked two of the women to hold Father Jameson— er, Father Jack— in the sacristy for a minute or two on some excuse or other so we’re sure everything is ready before he gets here.

Major Jordan. Very good, Campbell. Now we must check on the other arrangements.

They move away. Gina and Gladys replace them.

Gina. Oh, Gladys, isn’t he wonderful! He looks so gentle and kind! I just know he’ll understand me!

Gladys. Have you tried Joe, Gina? Are you sure your own husband isn’t the one you should talk to?

Gina. Gladys! You’re awful! You know I can’t do that! Joe would never understand.

Gladys. Well, I’m sure Father Jameson— er, Father Jack— will understand, and things will be just fine for you.

They move off. Baxter and Jim take their place.

Baxter. I managed to talk to Father Jameson— er, Father Jack— for a little while just before the service, and I’m very encouraged. I told him what I thought about giving so much money to the cathedral and he said that it sounded like something we should look into. I can see already that he’s going to be more reasonable than Father Bogan. And did you notice, he’s wearing loafers and a grey shirt, instead of the formal black ones Father Bogan always wore. He’s definitely going to be more relaxed about the acolytes’ shoes.

Jim. Baxter, I wonder if Father Jameson— er, Father Jack— meant what you think about the money. I hope that when we do what he said— when we look into what we give outside the parish— he may come to the conclusion that we’re not doing enough.

Baxter. Nonsense! Any sensible man— or at least most sensible men— I’ve never been able to figure you out, Jim— sensible men prepare for rainy days. I’m sure that’s what he meant.

Jim. Hmm. Well, you and I agree about one thing, Baxter— about the way he dresses, and about the gym shoes and the fussiness. I like somebody who’s relaxed about those things too.

They move away. Sam and Nettie stop Major Jordan at the center as he is bustling across the room.

Sam. Major, just a moment. Nettie and I were just talking. Have you had a chance to talk to Father Jameson— er, Father Jack— about the lay readers? Will we have to be licensed all over again? Will we have to take vocal projection and expression tests again?

Major Jordan. I talked to him yesterday and impressed upon him the importance of the lay readers to the life and health of this parish. I am happy to report that he agreed with me wholeheartedly. In fact, he wants to have a special meeting with us as soon as possible.

Nettie. But will we have to take all those tests again?

Major Jordan. I didn’t have time to ask him about that. I just told him about our Sunday noon meetings and lunch, and how important it is to us for him to be there and to take part. I’m sure he understood.

Sam. But what about the licenses? Are we going to have to do those things all over again?

Major Jordan. Licenses? Oh, I don’t know, Sam; you’ll have to ask him yourself.

They move off. Olly, Woody, and Bill take their place.

Olly. Whaddya think? Is he gonna let girls into the acolytes?

Woody. That’d be awful! They’d just spoil it for everybody! But he seems like a nice guy, doesn’t he. Didn’t even notice my gym shoes!

Holds up one foot to show the gym shoes he is wearing. All three boys guffaw.

They move off. Harry, Tip, and Steve take their place.

Harry. Did you see those arms and legs! Did you see how long they are! He’s gonna be great!

Tip. Long arms and legs? What are you talking about?

Steve. Have you forgotten already? The men’s basketball— Harry wants a priest that can really dunk that ball.

Tip. Oh, yeah, sure. I was just kidding. Well, when you said it…well.

Harry. Listen. He’s a regular guy. You can tell that just by looking at him. None of this stuck up stuff like some priests— where they’re better than you— only he has long arms and long legs.

Major Jordan suddenly rushes up.

Major Jordan [in a hoarse whisper]. Now! Now! Clap now! Here he comes!

The hall doors open. Everybody turns toward them and begins clapping. A young priest appears, dressed in a grey clerical shirt and a sport coat. He is flanked on one side by his four year old daughter, whose hand he is holding, and on the other side by his wife, who has a baby in her arms. They appear mildly startled by the applause, smile, and move hesitantly into the room.

Steve [aside to Tip]. His arms and legs don’t look extra long to me.

Scene Four. A week later. The parish house is set up for a vestry meeting.

Father Jack, Major Jordan, and Mary enter.

Major Jordan. I think it would be wise, Father Jameson, for me to chair the meeting. You are not yet familiar with the parish and its difficulties, and some of them are right on the vestry.

Father Jack. I think we had better set the right pattern from the beginning, Major Jordan. Canon law says that a rector is to chair vestry meetings, and we as a mission are urged to function as much like a parish as possible; so I think I had better chair the meetings starting with the very first one.

Major Jordan. But—

Mary. Your long experience, Major, and your insight are very important, and I suspect that Father Jack may benefit even more from them if you’re at his right hand giving him advice. Isn’t that true, Father Jack?

Father Jack. Oh, yes, of course…

Slight pause.

Mary. The Major is senior warden for good reason, Father Jack. He really has earned his position. He was not only the right hand man to Father Bogan on the vestry and in parish management, he also has been director of lay readers for— how long has it been, Major? Twenty years?

Major Jordan. Not that long, Carson. It’s only been nine, though I confess it sometimes seems like twenty.

Lights are dimmed and then raised. Twenty minutes have elapsed. The vestry is now seated at the tables as before, except that now Father Jack is at the center, Major Jordan at his right, and Mary and Baxter at his left.

Baxter. So you see, Father Jack— and members of the vestry— it is imperative that we cut our disbursements to the cathedral substantially and begin to accumulate a fund to prepare for a rainy day, the day when our roof needs repair or the furnace breaks down.

Father Jack. I believe our giving to the diocese is set by agreement among the parishes at our annual diocesan convention, isn’t it?

Major Jordan. The diocesan convention votes on it and imposes it on us, if that’s what you mean.

Rick. Yes, that’s right. The parishes of the diocese together determine what each parish’s share of the expenses will be. If we want to have a lower amount, we’ll have to come to some arrangement with the other parishes. I believe there is a method for doing that if we can show cause.

Baxter. Aren’t a leaking roof or a broken down furnace cause enough?

Rick. They’re not broken down.

Baxter. Yet— but they will be. Any prudent man knows that the day of reckoning will come. We can’t continue to live so high on the hog, spending so much on office equipment and supplies, giving so much away, and not expect to pay the price one day— and soon. We all know it’s coming.

Father Jack. What percentage of our budget are we giving to the work of the diocese?

Baxter. I haven’t figured it out, but it’s too much.

Jim. It’s about twelve percent.

Father Jack. That doesn’t seem too high.

Curtain.

ACT TWO

Scene One. Several months later. The parish house. Set up for an ordinary Sunday after-service coffee hour, ordinary coffee urn instead of silver tea and coffee service.

Agnes and Mary enter.

Agnes. I’m really disappointed. I made a special effort to let him know that our Olly was going to be in the game, and he didn’t come. He said something about his family. But why should they stand in the way? Father Bogan always came to the things our children were in— the school plays, the football games, the scout troop meetings— all the things that are so important to our families. I don’t see why Father Jack can’t do the same.

Mary. Father Bogan was single. He had no other family but us. The extra time that Father Bogan spent with us is the time that Father Jack spends with his wife and children. Father Bogan’s parish time and private time weren’t separated; apparently he didn’t need them to be. But Father Jack needs his private life and so do Linda and the children.

Agnes. All I know is that Olly was very disappointed, and Jim and I are too.

The women busy themselves as before.

Harriett and Winifred enter breathlessly.

Harriett. Good morning, Mary. Good morning, Agnes.

Mary and Agnes. Good morning, Harriett. Good morning, Winnie.

Harriett. Is the coffee ready? Winnie and I have agreed that I will take the coffee and she will take charge of the children’s table. Ah yes, I see you’ve got those tasty danish rolls— good. Winnie, we’d better get in place; they’ll be here any moment.

Voices are heard from the hallway. Parishioners enter. Major Jordan bustles in, grabs Rick by the arm, and pulls him front and center.

Major Jordan. We’ve got trouble. Do you know what he’s done! He renewed all the lay readers’ licenses without so much as a word to anyone. Do you know what that means?

Rick. No. I don’t. What does it mean?

Major Jordan. It means he didn’t have a meeting, he didn’t talk with the lay readers, he didn’t have them read anything, he didn’t talk with me, he didn’t come to our last meeting— he just isn’t paying any attention.

Rick. Oh. Didn’t he come to your last Sunday meeting? Surely he’s come to some of them? Didn’t I hear—

Major Jordan. Yes. Yes. He came to two of them, but then he said something about his family and about how tired he is after Sunday services. I tried to explain to him how important to the parish the lay readers are, but he didn’t seem to care. And now he’s just gone off on his own, doing something by himself that we used to do together. That means trouble.

Sam and Nettie walk up.

Sam. Did you hear?

Nettie. Yes, Major, did you hear?

Major Jordan. Hear what?

Sam. About the lay readers’ licenses. He’s renewed them!

Nettie. And without those tests! We didn’t have to go through all that enunciation and projection stuff that Father Bogan—

Major Jordan. — and I—

Nettie. — made us go through. Isn’t it wonderful!

Major Jordan. Yes, I suppose so; it’s fine for you. But listen to me. Don’t you realize—

The group moves away. Gina and Gladys take their place, pulling Father Jack with them.

Gladys. The time has come, Father Jack, for you to do something about it. We’ve waited long enough. We were patient with Father Bogan because we loved him, but he certainly was off base on this one. There is no reason in this day and age why girls shouldn’t be acolytes as well as boys. My girl and Gina’s are just dying to serve, and all you have to do is say the word. Father Bogan never appointed an acolyte master; he ran the acolytes directly himself; so you don’t have anyone to contend with. All you have to do is to start training our girls, and we’re all set!

Gina. That’s right, Father Jack, almost all the women are for it. We’ve waited long enough.

Father Jack. I don’t see any problem. Practically all the other parishes have girl acolytes. I think I can promise you a change. Gladys, how would you like to be acolyte master?

Gladys. Me?! Acolyte master! But I don’t know anything about it.

Father Jack. That’s easy enough. I’ll show you everything you need to know, and then you can just go into action. Whaddya say?

Gladys. Well, I never dreamed it would come to this. Well, OK, if you think I can do it.

Father Jack. Good. This should be a lot of fun.

Scene Two. Two months later. The hall is set up for a vestry meeting.

Father Jack, Major Jordan, and Mary enter.

Father Jack. I wanted this time before our vestry meeting to tell you about a decision I have made that may cause some trouble and to get your advice.

Major Jordan. More trouble!

Father Jack. Well, I hope not too much more— especially with your help.

Mary. What is it you want to tell us?

Father Jack. As you know, I’ve been having some problems making it to the lay readers’ meeting and lunch. You may not know I also find it hard to make it to the Sunday afternoon basketball games. In fact, they’re even harder because they’re every week. Frankly, by Sunday noon I’m exhausted, and these two events are just too much. I can’t continue to take part in them— at least not on Sunday.

Silence.

Mary. What do you want from us, Jack?

Father Jack. I need your help to face those two groups. Major, you’re already mad at me, and so are some of the other lay readers; and I have the feeling that some of the basketball players know how I’ve been feeling and resent it. How can I make them— how can I make you— understand?

Major Jordan. Mary, I guess you were right. We elected someone too young and too inexperienced.


Father Jameson, I have to tell you straight out, I can’t help you. I don’t think anybody can help you except you yourself. As I see it, the problem is your attitude. You don’t seem willing to live the life of a priest dedicated to his people. Your own personal needs seem to come before the welfare of your flock. Only you can change that.

Silence.

Mary looks at the Major. Then she turns towards Father Jack.

Mary. Jack, did you know that I voted against calling you here?

Father Jack. No. I didn’t.

Mary. I thought we needed a more experienced man to follow Father Bogan. But I’m beginning to change my mind.

Father Jack and Major Jordan. Change your mind!

Mary. I think that was a courageous thing you did just now. I think it took a lot of guts and a real love for this parish and for yourself to tell us the problem you were having and to ask for help.


Major, don’t you see the strength in what Father Jack just did? I hope you will change your mind and help explain to the lay readers and to the basketball players that Father Jack is not Father Bogan and that they cannot expect him to do exactly what Father Bogan did. I know it’s disappointing to you and to them— you had a deep and satisfying relationship with Father Bogan— but Father Jack is a different person and things just have to be different. He has to learn a lot of things about how a parish works and about how he fits in a parish— and I see him beginning to do that— but we have to change too. There is no way another priest can come in here and be Father Bogan for us. We have to adjust too.

The lights are dimmed, then raised. Twenty minutes have passed. The vestry is meeting.

Jim. As chairman of buildings and grounds I am sorry to report serious problems with the roof. We have some expensive repairs ahead of us.

Scene Three. A month later. The parish house is set up for the Sunday morning coffee hour.

Agnes and Mary enter.

Agnes. That was the most outrageous sermon I have ever heard! It was self-centered, self-serving, and just plain unfair. He made an arbitrary decision at the urging of a small group of malcontents, and now he wants to defend it in terms of the equality of all souls before God! Well, I feel perfectly equal to any man, and I never served at the altar! I see no reason why girls should be acolytes!

Mary. I suppose your Olly is upset too.

Agnes. Of course he is! He and the other boys and Father Bogan used to have such a good relationship. They had a good time together and they learned a lot. Father Bogan was wonderful with boys, and now this new man has gone and spoiled everything— and on top of that, he did it all on his own. When those same women raised this issue before, Father Bogan had a big parish discussion. We all talked it over, then did a survey, and most of us were against it. Father Bogan said that as far as he was concerned that settled it. Apparently Father Jack doesn’t care what we think. He’s just gone and made this change without talking to us at all.

Mary. Yes, I am sorry about that. But don’t you see— he was trying to respond to a considerable group of people and also to follow his understanding of the gospel. That’s what he was trying to tell us this morning— how in Christ there is no male or female— that we’re all equal in the sight of God.

Agnes. I know that. I said that. I’m equal. I always have been.

Mary. And he was apologizing for the way he did it. He apologized to us— didn’t you hear that?— for rushing ahead without more consultation. He didn’t know about our discussion and survey. We didn’t tell him, and it didn’t occur to him to ask.

The women busy themselves as before.

Harriett and Winifred enter breathlessly.

Harriett. Good morning, Mary. Good morning, Agnes.

Mary and Agnes. Good morning, Harriett. Good morning, Winnie.

Harriett. Is the coffee ready? Winnie and I have agreed that I will take the coffee and she will take charge of the children’s table. Ah yes, I see you’ve got those tasty danish rolls— good. Winnie, we’d better get in place; they’ll be here any moment.

Voices are heard from the hallway. Parishioners enter talking. Major Jordan bustles in, grabs Rick by the arm, and pulls him front and center.

Major Jordan. That was an outrage!

Mary detaches herself from Agnes and seeks out Father Jack.

Mary. Jack, I need to talk to you.

Father Jack. Yes, Mary.

Mary. It’s about the Major.

Father Jack. Oh yes, Mary.

Mary. He’s hurting.

Father Jack. Hurting!

He’s hurting! What do you mean?! He’s criticizing me, he’s blaming me, he won’t listen to me— there he is now, pouring venom into Rick’s ear— and you say he’s hurting!

Mary. Yes. He’s hurting. Have you ever wondered why no one calls him by his first name? Have you ever wondered why he wants to be called Major? Have you ever wondered why he wants to be senior warden? Why he’s been head of the lay readers so long?

Father Jack. He needs to feel important.

Mary. Yes. He does. And you’re taking that away from him. Father Bogan knew the Major needs special attention, and he gave it to him. The Major needs reassuring praise just the way small children need it. I suppose a psychologist could explain the reasons. All I know is that when he feels important and recognized he’s a fine person, but when he feels unnoticed or criticized, he falls apart, he does things he’s ashamed of later.


He needs you, Jack. He needs your attention. He needs your approval. You’ve got to give it to him, or you and he and this parish will all suffer.

Our attention turns to front and center, with the Major and Rick.

Major Jordan. I don’t think it can go on much longer like this. Unless he changes drastically, I think he’ll have to go.

Rick. I don’t think it’s as bad as that. Besides we don’t have the authority to get rid of him. Only the bishop can do that.

Major Jordan. I’ll be on the phone to the bishop soon enough if that’s what’s needed, but I’m not ready to do that yet. He still needs a chance. I’ll talk to him once more to see if I can bring him to his senses.

They move away and are replaced by Gina and Gladys.

Gina. I never was so disappointed in anyone in my life! I went to see him, but he didn’t understand at all. He asked if I had discussed my feelings with Joe, and when I said I hadn’t, he suggested that I do it. When I said that was impossible, he had the gall to suggest that I have professional counseling. I told him that Father Bogan had understood and had helped me a lot, but that didn’t seem to matter to him.
 Oh, Gladys, what am I going to do?

Gladys. Why don’t you talk to Joe?

Gina. Gladys! You’re awful! You know I can’t do that! Joe would never understand.

Gladys. Well, I think Father Jack understands, and I hope you will too.

Harry, Tip, and Steve now replace Gina and Gladys.

Harry. He doesn’t have any arms or legs at all, as far as I’m concerned. He doesn’t want to play with us, and I don’t want to play with him. If something drastic doesn’t happen soon, I’m going to resign from the vestry and go to another parish.

Tip. What’s that? Another parish? What for?

Steve. Harry, I think Father Jack deserves another chance. I think Sunday afternoon is just like he said— a bad time for him. I know that I wouldn’t want to play basketball at six o’clock on a weekday night, right after coming home from work. That’s what it’s like for him. It’s his most tired time of the week. It’s his time off. He told me that’s when he likes to fall asleep in front of the TV or go to a movie. He says he needs to do something mindless and effortless. He says he needs the time from Sunday noon until Tuesday morning for rest and recovery.

Harry. Rest? Recovery? Rest and recovery from what? He doesn’t do anything worth doing. Does that look like work to you— what he does? It doesn’t look like work to me.


No. I’ve made up my mind. Either he goes or I go!

Curtain.

ACT THREE

Scene One. Two days later. The rector’s study. Father Jack and Major Jordan sit facing each other with the desk and bookcases, etc., in the background.

Father Jack. Thank you, Major Jordan, for coming to see me.

Major Jordan. I had been meaning to call you myself.

Father Jack. I know how busy you are and how many people seek you out for advice and help. I’ve hesitated to take your time, but I need to draw on your experience and insight and influence in the parish.

Major Jordan. Oh, yes. Of course.

Father Jack. I’ve been thinking about some of the things you’ve said, and’ve decided I’ve perhaps been too hasty at times. I need your counsel now on what to do about a number of things. Especially I need your help in dealing with the anger that some people feel toward me. What do you think I should do?

Major Jordan. Well now.

[Clears throat.] I wish you had come to me earlier.

Father Jack. I did come to you earlier.

Major Jordan. With a repentant attitude, I mean.

Silence.

Father Jack is swallowing his pride.

Father Jack. I meant— I mean— to be penitent.

Major Jordan. Good. That’s the place to begin.

Father Jack. Yes, it is. We can be repentant together.

Major Jordan. Me, repentant!

Father Jack. Yes. I think it’s important for us to be two sinners together before God, two needy souls seeking his help and each other’s.

Major Jordan. I thought we were here to discuss your problem, not mine.

Father Jack. We both have problems.

Major Jordan. Oh, is that right? Tell me about it! [Very tensely.] Tell me about my problem!

Father Jack. Maybe this isn’t the time.

Major Jordan. You’ve started it! Now finish it! What problem? What’s my problem?

Father Jack. I really don’t think you’re in any condition—

Major Jordan. Any condition! I’m here because I wanted to help you. I still do. But you begin by telling me I have a problem. Now I want to know what it is! Tell me! We can’t go one step farther until you tell me!

Father Jack. I think, Major Jordan, that you are a wonderful person.

Major Jordan. That’s not a problem.

Father Jack. I think you are also a needy person.

Major Jordan. Needy!

Father Jack. Yes. I think that just as I have weaknesses, so you have a weakness— you have a need to be important to people, to do things to help people in such a way that you receive from them the thing you also need.

Major Jordan. Something I need.

Father Jack. Yes. It’s a simple enough thing. We all need it in one way or another, some a little more than others. You need recognition. You need it from me. You need it from the vestry. You need it from the lay readers. You need it from the parish.

Major Jordan. I need a lot don’t I?! I’m a very needy person, aren’t I! I’m practically a mental cripple, aren’t I, I’m so needy! Well, let me tell you who’s needy. You’re the needy one. You’re the one who needs help. You’re the one who’s in trouble. Needy! I’ll show you who’s needy.

The Major stomps out.

Scene Two. Vestry meeting a week later.

Major Jordan. As you all know, several of us on the vestry have been in touch with the bishop concerning the crisis here at St. Philip’s. We have asked him about the procedure for dismissing our vicar, Father John Jameson. He has advised us that he will abide by any decision we as a vestry make. He says that he thinks it important for these decisions to be made on the local level. We should be aware that because of the resignation of Harry Prior from the vestry a vote of four will be sufficient to pass a motion.
 [Pauses.] I believe that Baxter Homan has a motion he wishes to introduce.

Baxter Homan raises his hand.

Father Jack. Baxter.

Baxter. This is very painful for me. I wish you no harm, Father Jack, but I think that for the sake of the parish I must proceed. I move that this vestry petition the bishop to dissolve the pastoral relation between us and Father John Jameson.

Father Jack. Is there a second to the motion?

Gina. I second the motion.

Father Jack. The floor is now open for discussion.

Baxter. I don’t believe we need more discussion prior to this vote. We have already discussed enough. I’d like to call for the question, but if anyone really wants to speak I don’t want to deprive them of the opportunity.

Mary. I agree, Baxter, that discussion is not likely to change our minds, but I think it’s important for us to be able make public our reasons for our votes. I suggest, therefore, that we cast our votes one by one and that those who wish have the opportunity to explain their vote.

Silence.

Father Jack. I can’t tell from your faces whether you’re agreeing or disagreeing with Mary.

Baxter. I agree. I think it’s a good idea.

A general murmur of assent.

Father Jack. I take it that you all agree. Very well, we will proceed with the vote. Shall we begin with the maker of the motion and the seconder and proceed around the table?

Silence.

Father Jack. Does that silence mean assent?

Baxter. Yes. It does for me.

A murmur of assent.

Father Jack. Baxter, what is your vote?

Baxter. I vote Yes, to dissolve the pastoral relation.

Father Jack. Do you wish to explain your vote?

Baxter. No. My position is well known.

Father Jack. Gina?

Gina. I vote Yes. I do not wish to explain my vote.

Father Jack. Rick.

Rick. I vote No. I believe that we are now in a position, if we all work together, to heal our wounds and move ahead.

Father Jack. Jim.

Jim. I vote No. I agree with Rick.

Father Jack. Nettie.

Nettie. I vote Yes. Anybody who can do what you did to the— I don’t want to say any more.

Father Jack. Major Jordan.

Major Jordan. I want to give my explanation before I give my vote.


As all of you know, I have been angry with Father Jameson. I believe he made a number of serious mistakes almost from the beginning. It has seemed to me that the situation was irrecoverable. A large number of parishioners are angry with him. Several families have transferred to other parishes. Harry Prior, as you know, has resigned from the vestry and transferred to St. Paul’s. Several other families have either reduced their giving to the parish or have threatened to leave.


The situation is very bad. It will take a small miracle to heal our wounds, even with another priest.
 But the most critical factor for me has been a scene that took place between me and Father Jack just a few days ago. I had been thinking of seeing him because I wanted to do everything I could to help. As it happened, he phoned me first, before I got around to phoning him. That was very enheartening to me. I thought to myself that if he could reach out to me, perhaps I would be able to reach out to him. I was even more enheartened by the way in which our interview began. He apologized, and asked for my help! He said how much he valued my contribution to the parish. My heart surged with hope. But then he dashed it to the ground. He said something about our both being sinners and our both being in need of repentance. I was incensed! Who was he to judge me? I went home outraged.


I’ve had time since then to think over the meaning of that interview. It gave me some idea why so many people are angry with Father Jack.


It’s something like this. He is young and inexperienced. But his heart is in the right place, his intentions are good, and he’s trying. He’s just not very skilled yet. He tried to reach me— that’s what I began to realize as I thought over our interchange. He was trying to reach my soul! He didn’t do it very well. He made me very angry. In fact, he made me so angry that I’m surprised I heard anything at all. But I did finally hear his love. I suddenly realized that he was seeking to love me.
 So much to my own surprise I vote No. I wish to keep the pastoral relation between us and Father Jack Jameson.

An audible sigh runs through the meeting.

Gina. The vote is tied! It’s up to you, Mary, and we all know how you’re going to vote.

Father Jack. Mary, what is your vote?

Mary. I vote Yes.

All. Yes!

Major Jordan. Mary, you don’t mean that! That’s a vote to dissolve the relation!

Mary. That’s what I mean. I believe the relation should be dissolved. You may be right, Major. In fact, I rejoice to hear what you’ve said. I rejoice in what has happened between you and Father Jack. I rejoice in his reaching out to you.


I agree with you that he’s learning. But I think it’s too late for him and us. I believe that both he and we need growth, and that we have started to change— this meeting is a sign of that— but I think we need to do it with other partners. Father Jack needs to start over and so do we. So I vote Yes. I vote to dissolve the relationship.
 I believe we should send a letter of explanation to the bishop. We should tell him of our confidence in Father Jack, of the wonderful way in which we have seen him struggle to grow and learn, and we should recommend that he be given another parish— under the supervision of an experienced priest, I should think. I vote Yes.

Father Jack. The motion is carried.

Scene Three. The rector’s study. Father Jack is packing his things. Mary enters.

Mary. I’ve wanted to see you for some time, Jack, but I found it very hard, since I was the one who voted you out.

Father Jack. I’ve found it difficult too. But it helped a lot when the bishop told me you’d been to see him to urge that I be given another assignment. He said he was very impressed by what you had to say. So I’m in your debt. Thank you.

Mary. I meant what I said at the vestry meeting. I think you are on your way to being a fine priest. I’m sorry it has to be so painful.

Father Jack. The bishop is sending me to St. Peter’s, the parochial mission of the cathedral. I’ll be working under the Dean’s supervision.


What happened here, Mary? What went wrong?

Mary. Jack, I think a parish priest is much more than someone who leads services and visits the sick. Everybody in the parish looks to you for something important in their lives. Somehow you have to sense what that is for each person, and then you have to respond in a way that will help them grow in Christ. You can’t be just one of the guys and you can’t be a psychotherapist. You have to be very savvy and very sensitive and very tough. You walked into a parish that wasn’t ready for a new priest, a parish that was still tied to your predecessor and expected you to be just like him. Parish priests have to do a lot of discerning of spirits— you have to see into people and into groups, to discern the spirit that is in them; and then you have to deal with that spirit. I think you walked unawares into all kinds of spirits until they drew blood.

Father Jack. Yes. We certainly drew blood.

Curtain.