The Pillars of the Earth - Ken Follett [49]
As Philip worked with the cellarer, so Francis worked for the prior, Abbot Peter’s deputy. When the cellarer died, Philip was twenty-one, and despite his youth he took over the job. And when Francis reached the age of twenty-one the abbot proposed to create a new post for him, that of sub-prior. But this proposal precipitated a crisis. Francis begged to be excused the responsibility, and while he was at it he asked to be released from the monastery. He wanted to be ordained as a priest and serve God in the world outside.
Philip was astonished and horrified. The idea that one of them might leave the monastery had never occurred to him, and now it was as disconcerting as if he had learned that he was the heir to the throne. But, after much hand-wringing and heart-searching, it happened, and Francis went off into the world, before long to become chaplain to the earl of Gloucester.
Before this happened Philip had seen his future very simply, when he had thought of it at all: he would be a monk, live a humble and obedient life, and in his old age, perhaps, become abbot, and strive to live up to the example set by Peter. Now he wondered whether God intended some other destiny for him. He remembered the parable of the talents: God expected his servants to increase his kingdom, not merely to conserve it. With some trepidation he shared these thoughts with Abbot Peter, fully aware that he risked a reprimand for being puffed up with pride.
To his surprise, the abbot said: “I’ve been wondering how long it would take you to realize this. Of course you’re destined for something else. Born within sight of a monastery, orphaned at six, raised by monks, made cellarer at twenty-one—God does not take that much trouble over the formation of a man who is going to spend his life in a small monastery on a bleak hilltop in a remote mountain principality. There isn’t enough scope for you here. You must leave this place.”
Philip was stunned by this, but before leaving the abbot a question occurred to him, and he blurted it out. “If this monastery is so unimportant, why did God put you here?”
Abbot Peter smiled. “Perhaps to take care of you.”
Later that year the abbot went to Canterbury to pay his respects to the archbishop, and when he came back he said to Philip: “I have given you to the prior of Kingsbridge.”
Philip was daunted. Kingsbridge Priory was one of the biggest and most important monasteries in the land. It was a cathedral priory: its church was a cathedral church, the seat of a bishop, and the bishop was technically the abbot of the monastery, although in practice it was ruled by its prior.
“Prior James is an old friend,” Abbot Peter told Philip. “In the last few years he has become rather dispirited, I don’t know why. Anyway, Kingsbridge needs young blood. In particular, James is having trouble with one of his cells, a little place in the forest, and he desperately needs a completely reliable man to take over the cell and set it back on the path of godliness.”
“So I’m to be prior of the cell?” Philip said in surprise.
The abbot nodded. “And if we’re right in thinking that God has much work for you to do, we can expect that he will help you to resolve whatever problems this cell has.”
“And if we’re wrong?”
“You can always come back here and be my cellarer. But we’re not wrong, my son; you’ll see.”
His farewells were tearful. He had spent seventeen years here, and the monks were his family, more real to him now than the parents who had been savagely taken from him. He would probably never see these monks again, and he was sad.
Kingsbridge overawed him at first. The walled monastery was bigger than many villages; the cathedral church was a vast, gloomy cavern; the prior’s house a small palace. But once he got used to its