PB
The PB came to our town this past weekend. She was here to celebrate the 150th anniversary of our parish, an anniversary that we’re relishing, (and that my good friend of the Cambridge/Ely UK plateau jests at from the 800 year-old parishes he services as a Reader in the CofE).
In Bishop Katharine’s short and tumultuous three years in office, her mystique as a pastor has become increasing clear. When her pontifical peers have been too insecure to converse with her and have insulted her, instead, she merely absorbs their hateful energies into caring and nourishing energies of her own and then gives them away.
One of her stops while here was a short visit with our diocesan clergy, precious few of whom attended I regret to say, that illustrated her pastoral abilities even more profoundly. It is, of course, what we need most, shepherding. We cannot all be prophets, but she can be not only a prophet but a prophet whose obvious love for people transposes into justice and peace by her mere presence. This church, especially those of us in this stressed diocese, is more fortunate than it sometimes seems to have the capacity to appreciate, let alone to understand.