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Everybody Out!
Once accused, by a true blue member of a former congregation, rather unfairly, I thought, of being a rank socialist, I must admit to having been a union representative. Being entirely apolitical and subscribing to no party, I was not exactly Red Robbo. When my members withdrew their co-operation over school meals' supervision I stayed at my post because not doing so would have deprived the children of the poor of their only meal of the day. Nevertheless, when our rather overbearing head teacher refused to allow us an hour off to attend a union meeting I threatened him with the ultimatum, a bit like Moses; let my people go, or else. We went.
It is at this time of the year that I become a trifle bolshie and wish that clergy were unionised. The EU work time directive is ridden roughshod over by the church on the grounds that we are office holders and not employees. We are "entitled" to just one day off a week, but as mine is Saturday that means at least a quarter of them, annually, are taken up by weddings or fund raising events. Even the sacrosanct Sunday lunch times are eroded by the large number of baptisms that occur then.
The problem is, that if we clergy went on strike, who would miss us? We, as a species, are already becoming extinct. In towns as well as villages the "Panda Parson", an itinerant and rarely seen stranger, disguised in mufti, turns up on the first Wednesday of the month to conduct a service in the telephone box. If we downed tools, took up our placards and picketed the diocesan office who would care?
Nobody, except at Christmass. There is an unprecedented march churchwards at that time of the year. This, comrades, is the moment to withdraw our labour. Man the barricades, run up the red flag on the church tower, burn the bishops in effigy. Now is the time to strike a blow for decent working conditions, a fair wage, and time off in lieu. Would we? Not a chance!
This is what ministry is at Christmass; bring in the lost sheep, show them that Jesus loves them, and bid them farewell until the same time next year. Ah well, so much for the revolution.
May God bless you all, Fr. Allan
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