Sunbury
- Details
- Written March 2021
I'd been there occasionally in the early 80s. Once it was to pick up Catherine, who'd spent the week at a summer music school as they prepared for yet another SA musical. And I'd been a member of the international headquarters cricket team that lost to national headquarters on the field behind the youth centre, the swimming pool, the annex and the main conference centre itself.
My first 'official' visit was to deputise for a revered colleague who'd had to drop out at the last minute. I had to speak at the concluding service of a week-long retreat held under the name of Brengle. He has become something like a Salvation Army saint as he promoted the teaching of 'holiness'. Never comfortable with the terminology, I stuck to speaking about everyday relationships, and about putting love and respect into practice on a Monday morning.
I felt more comfortable a year or two later when asked to speak to a group of fund-raisers about The Salvation Army's response to HIV. I started by showing them a pack of condoms. It had been sent to their department by a mischievous donor with the suggestion: 'I think these might be a bit more useful than a few pounds from me.' They'd sent the packet to me with a note: 'We have no idea what these are for. Perhaps you can help?' I told them I'd come to give them an answer. The presentation may have started with laughter but they gave me a hard time when I suggested a link between Aids and 'sinful behaviour'. I should have stuck to putting love and respect into practice on a Monday morning.
But in the 90s I was to return to Sunbury for several High Councils. This is when a group of leaders meet to consider suitability and then select the person to hold the office of General. It's not only a matter of listening to a candidate's vision, but the council needs to recognise true servant-leadership and to distinguish willingness from raw ambition as it reaches agreement by consensus in the spirit. The ballot box, outlined in the terms of the Salvation Army Act, provides a practical way of expressing that, but the final letter, signed by all members of the High Council, brings the process back into the SA's appointment system. The General is not there 'by appointment of Her Majesty the Queen' but by those who together and hopefully under divine guidance have made their choice.
Increasingly over the years I've resisted using the word: election about the High Council. I was exercised by the procedures when attending my first High Council. I felt it needed to be more like a retreat. There is always the danger that it can stray into something like political hustings. So the next time I urged members to help us all, and the candidates in particular to engage in deeper self-examination. I felt that the questions being put to them should assist. Small surprise then that I found myself chosen to chair the questions committee. Questions at The Cedars; now questions at Sunbury.
In the run-up to one of the subsequent High Councils a much respected colleague and friend wrote to me urging me not to decline nomination. Perhaps he had an inkling of what was already in my mind? I was nominated. In the meal immediately following this, members were urged to discuss nothing but something about Jesus, which we did. After lunch Margaret and I sat quietly in the grounds and spoke very briefly together. 'Of course, it's your decision,' she said. I knew within myself what I needed to do, so it was relatively easy to decline nomination. But where do I fit into this organisation now was the question I put to myself. A clear dawning emerged. Mine should principally be what might best be described as a prophetic role - observing, listening, thinking, questioning, challenging and even confronting leadership. Questions again! I left with a clearer of understanding that equalled what I had felt when leaving St Julian's. I was starting to see the way ahead. It had become for me the retreat I'd wanted it to be.
High Councils are filled with a range of emotions; there are surprises and disappointments. This is after all an important time of decision. Tensions can rise especially as the council moves to its climax. I was appointed chief teller at my last High Council. One of the tasks is to check the boxes are empty before voting begins. But instead of doing that, I absentmindedly, probably thinking it was time to count the ballots, picked one up and headed for the door. The whole council burst into laughter. I was mortified. Just as well they were too busy still giggling to see my embarrassment. 'You couldn't wait,' said one with a smile over coffee; 'Best thing that happened this morning,' said another, 'It broke the tension.'
My first High Council had been in the smaller wood-panelled room with less than fifty of us there. But with growing calls for gender equality the numbers more than doubled in later years . We moved to the enlarged and modern conference room. Somehow it didn't have quite the same atmosphere. Now even that room is too small, so High Councils meet in a nearby hotel.
In between other duties as we approached retirement we were asked to lead a weekend retreat at Sunbury for a Bristol congregation. The theme was given to us: Lord of the Rings. Fortunately I'd read and enjoyed the Tolkien trilogy but found it difficult to weave that into a retreat for the fifty or so participants. Anyhow they heard about the king's ring for curing scrofula, tuberculous glands in the neck. That gave me opportunity to introduce something about our work about tuberculosis and other diseases over years - though without a ring. Then of course there was the gold band on the ring finger - symbol of marriage. There had to be a prayer trail - the Lord's Prayer! I made repeated and hopefully clear references to ‘our Lord’ throughout the weekend. That's what needed to be heard. There were fun sessions with plenty of laughter too. I'm glad they are included among my enduring memories of Sunbury. There's more to life than heavy discussion. 'Laughter is good for us,' I've heard that many times before. I hear it still.
March 2021
A couple of poems written about or during High Councils:
High Council 2002
Brengle's High Council