Doctor Who_ The Sleep of Reason - Martin Day [30]
I thought of my personal, lonely burdens. ‘I am afraid, Charles, that your company tonight is often something I need more than desire. Preaching at the midnight service would worry me greatly if I let it – how difficult it is to 51
say with conviction that the God who created all the world allowed himself to become a puny babe! And yet, I know this to be both true and important –
indeed, it is perhaps the most vital thing I will say from my pulpit over the next year. The responsibility is great – yet sometimes I want to forget about my own words for a few hours, immersing myself instead in conversation.
And then, I hope, my sermon for the service of Holy Communion will indeed be full of the majesty and wonder of God.’
Charles nodded. ‘All the same, it is a “ritual” that I enjoy, though I admit to being confounded that you should spend such time with me. You should really spend such precious hours with someone of Christie’s standing.’
‘I care not for such things,’ I said. ‘The Lord knows not one’s age, or class, or sex. He knows only the heart.’ I paused for a moment, wondering how much further to take this. ‘It is true, I knew your family well – you are of good stock, if you wish to think in such terms, and many great careers could have been yours – but I know you chose your work at Mausolus because your heart is full of love. In any event, I made your mother a simple promise, to cast my eye over you from time to time. . . And, well, here I sit!’
‘Nevertheless,’ persisted Charles, ‘it almost engenders a little awe, seeing a true man of God at rest before preaching with such conviction!’
I admit I laughed at this. ‘True man of God? How know you that?’ I sipped the last of my port and smacked my lips in glee. ‘I understand I have a reputation as being a forthright man, one who embarrasses many of my colleagues – they do not like what I say or the manner in which I encourage my flock. . . And yet, to argue for myself more than that would be for a sinful man to play at being Job. I know that I can be lazy, pompous, solemn. . . I drink too much perhaps – “Use a little wine for thy stomach’s sake”, as the apostle Paul says – and I dream too greatly. I have never worked for my salvation.’
‘Indeed,’ nodded Torby. ‘It is for all these reasons that I call you a man of God – all these reasons, and more. Unlike some clerics, you do not allow your life to be ruined by thoughts of having failed God.’
‘Gold and silver we might not have, but what we do have, we offer Him,’ I said.
A log moved in the grate, and a new pillar of flame roared upwards. It reminded me of the dream, so much on my mind in recent days.
‘Have you not read of our prayers mingling with holy incense as they ascend to God?’ I asked. ‘And of the tongues of fire at Pentecost?’ I looked deep into the fire. ‘Prayer is listening, too – “Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth” –
and although I am happy about tonight, I feel some apprehension about the coming days. . . ’
52
Charles seemed to comprehend my obtuse intimations. ‘Has the Lord spoken to you?’ he whispered, perchance alarmed at my sudden change of tone.
‘He has said nothing in words,’ I replied. I looked around at the room, the shelves and their untapped knowledge. ‘Despite all this, I am not a man of letters. Not by nature, in any case. God talks in a fitting manner to his people.’ I sighed, spinning the glass in my hand. ‘I simply do not feel that this Christmas promises peace and goodwill toward men.’ I paused. ‘How is Mausolus?’ I asked, wondering if my secret desire was to talk of something else – or if, in fact, that place was at the root of all my dreams and fears.
‘It is less like a prison than under Porter.’
‘Good.’
‘Dr Christie is a fine man – although I sense that he believes not in God but in good.’
The boy is perceptive. My impressions of Dr Christie have been noted in these pages.
‘I feel happier there than I used to,’ Torby continued. ‘I feel more able to try to share love with the people. As you know, some there remain servants