Read Online Good-bye and Amen by Beth Gutcheon - Free Book Online

should come to worship with everyone else.
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    Norman Faithful Missouri was fun. My rector hadn’t had a new idea in decades and times were a-changing. When Father Tom gave me the children’s service, which was nothing short of curate abuse, I started inviting town leaders to come in to talk to the children. One morning the fire chief came, all kitted out in his waterproofs and his red hat, to talk about fire safety. Remember Stop, Drop, and Roll, how they teach you that in grade school? He thought they probably knew that one so he said to the children, “Now what would you do if your clothes were on fire?” And a little girl said indignantly, “Well, I wouldn’t put them on!” Word spread that we were having fun, and the grown-ups started coming to the children’s service—poor Father Tom.
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    Monica Faithful Father Tom wasn’t very well. He probably wanted to retire, but he was damned if he was going to quit the field once Norman arrived. People began to be afraid he’d die in the pulpit. Luckily, Norman was called to a church of his own, in Oregon. Of our own, I should say. They definitely thought they got me for free when they paid Norman. They were not interested in a rector’s wife who had her own life.
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    Betty Kersey I was sorry when the Faithfuls left—Monica was a lovely person and she’d just started teaching at the elementary school. She’d made friends. Another one of the gals, Selina, her husband had just taken over his first parish, was having a difficult pregnancy. She’d been ordered to bed for two months. That was hard because she should have beenout making friends, building her community. Monica used to go over after school and keep her company, or pitch in for her if the altar guild didn’t polish the patens right or iron the purificators. People notice every little thing that isn’t perfect when you’re new, and whatever goes wrong is your fault.
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    Ted Wineapple A rule of thumb we all learn: in a new parish, beware the people who meet you at the door. They’ll be the ones who think they own the place.
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    Selina Malecki There was something of a war on in our altar guild. On one side was a pair of young moms who’d gone to college back east and didn’t wear brassieres. We weren’t sure they wore any underwear at all. They insisted their husbands serve on the altar guild. They wanted a woman appointed senior warden, you see, and this was their way of forcing Geoff’s hand, even though the older members would hate it if he gave in. Remember Our Bodies, Ourselves ? That was the bible they worshipped. I’m sure they wouldn’t have come to church at all, except they wanted their children in Sunday school.
    Well, the men couldn’t iron for beans, and the altar guild was all jumpy. Monica came one day, and thank God she stopped in the church before she came over to me. The altar was all decked out with pine boughs and holly and the green burse and chalice veil, and they had set out the green chasuble and stoles—it was Christmas week! She redressed the whole altar for me. Can you imagine?
    White is the liturgical color for Christmas. We don’t use green until after First Epiphany.
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    Betty Kersey I remember when Norman was interviewing for that parish in Oregon. The search committee used to call at the strangest hours, just to ask Norm a few more questions—like at eleven o’clock at night. Once Norman and Monica got there, they learned that their last priest had had a problem with the bottle. The vestry wanted to make sure Norman was sober after dinner. People are always guarding against the bad thing that already happened to them, aren’t they?
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    George Kersey I once worked in a school where they’d had a really pugnacious head. He couldn’t get along with anyone, although he’d come with great recommendations. Turns out the last school gave him