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| Sitting outside St. Mary's in Thirsk |
Neither in his books, nor in the BBC TV adaptation “All
Creatures Great and Small,” did I get the sense that Alf Wight was a regular
churchgoer. However, he did like music. Writing under his pseudonym of James Herriot,
he relates how one Sunday he planned on attending an afternoon performance of
Handel’s Messiah at his church in
Darrowby (or, if you prefer, his real-life church of St. Mary’s in
Thirsk). Following on from yesterday’s
post, when he is called out to the Bellerby farm, the daughter Ruth asks if they
can ride back with him, as they also wish to attend the performance. This will save them hooking up their pony and
trap, as well as a long drive into town.
In Chapter Ten of his first book, All Creatures Great and
Small, he writes, “Their world had a timeless quality. They were never in a hurry. They rose when it was light, went to bed when
they were tired, ate when they were hungry, and seldom looked at a clock.” Awed by how the Bellerbys manage to survive on
this isolated farm in the high country, he feels honored to accord them this
favor. After he finishes attending their
cow, he goes over to their house. There
he finds them sitting down to eat. Oh
well, he rationalizes, it’s a quarter to twelve and the performance doesn’t
start until 2 p.m. He should have plenty
of time.
Knowing a meal from Mrs. Hall awaits him back at Skeldale
House, James turns down their invitation to join them. His stomach rumbling, he watches them consume
generous portions of delicious, homemade food.
In accordance with their natures, the Bellerbys betray no sign of haste,
but calmly and quietly consume their meal. They take their time, and then they all retire
to their rooms to clean up and dress for the performance. All, that is, except for their son Bob, who is
not planning to attend the performance. While Bob snores in his chair, James
continually checks his watch. The
minutes tick by. Two o’clock nears. Then Ruth and her parents present
themselves. James rises to leave, only
for Ruth to stare at Bob and declare, “I’ve made up my mind. I’m not going to leave him snoring here. He’s got to come with us!”
The women make Bob presentable, and James packs the family
into his car. He hurtles down a narrow,
stony track to Darrowby and drops the family off. Mrs. Hall regards James in thin-lipped
silence as he shoots into Skeldale House at ten to two and bolts the cold food
she has labored so hard to make. Then he
rushes over to the church.
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| We prepare to enter James Herriot's church... |
He writes: “I was late for the Messiah. The music had
started as I crept into the church and ran a gauntlet of disapproving
stares. Out of the corner of my eye I
saw the Bellerbys sitting very upright, all in a row. It seemed to me that they looked
disapproving, too.”
This story makes me wonder why we grow so intolerant of
other noises during our Church services.
We scowl at those who forget to turn off their cell phones, children who
seem incapable of containing their enthusiasm for life, and yes, all who walk
in after the service has started. Isn’t
it interesting that, with a Faith that celebrates love and forgiveness, we all too
often show such intolerance at the heart of our worship experience? It’s one thing to be intolerant of what we
regard as sin, and another to scorn those who actions seemingly betray a nature
more forgetful and disorganized than our own. Such intolerance seems so contrary to our
belief systems, and to the people we wish to be.
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| Only to be greeted by this fellow. |
Only through looking in the mirror periodically, and
reminding ourselves of our shortcomings, can we hope to overcome them. None of us are perfect; all of us can try harder
to be better people. I don’t like being
disturbed during worship any more than Salt-of-the-Earth people like the
Bellerbys: folks whose virtues, in many ways, far outshine my own. Yet I must try to be the kind of person who
is tolerant of those whose passage through the communal water occasionally sends
a few ripples my way.
Just don’t spoil my movie-watching experience by talking or
texting in the cinema. That’s
unforgivable.
Thanks for following along,
Dragon Dave
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