Today I attended the seating of the 8th Episcopal bishop of the diocese of Northern California at Trinity Cathedral in Sacramento. And in that one sentence there are at least four ecclesiastical terms worthy of unpacking in a Word of the Day. But under the rubric of “Less is More,” I’m choosing just one, a word that means “chair.” Also going forward we’re unearthing even more turgid terminology (witness: “rubric,” also “turgid”). So in order that we get out of here before there’s a riot of linguists, let’s get down to business, shall we?
I say “seating” because today was the day Megan Traquair first got to sit in her “cathedra” – from the Latin for “chair” – at Trinity. Yesterday she was “consecrated” – from the Latin for “made holy or set apart for special purpose” – but that was over at the Mondavi Center at UC Davis. Why? Probably because there’s more seating over in Davis, though no special Bishop’s chair. Also, maybe because the Mondavi family made their fortune making wine, and communion wine gets consecrated before it gets drunk. But let’s try to stay on track and focus here. OK?
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First thing that happens in the liturgy for the seating of a new Bishop is this: After the choirs and all the dignitaries process forward – without the Bishop-elect among them, please note – the Dean and the verger go back down the aisle to the back of the church where the doors are closed and locked. Why this happens will become clear in a moment.
A word about the verger: He’s the guy who leads all church processions. He carries a club that in the olden days was used to beat unruly congregants who might spill into the aisles, thus blocking the procession. Apparently in the olden days this was a real problem. I say that because his club makes it abundantly clear he means business. Think of the verger as the hired muscle a mob boss might send around to collect on overdue debts and you won’t go far wrong. Capische?
Anyway, it’s a dramatic moment when the Bishop-elect stands outside the locked doors and knocks LOUD three times: Boom-Boom-Boom. The verger opens up and lets him-or-her inside. Up the aisle they go. The Dean – who is the main guy at the Cathedral when the Bishop isn’t in town – welcomes the new Bishop and invites him-or-her to sit in the cathedral chair reserved up front. The Bishop sits. The choir sings. The liturgy winds along to its appointed end. And voila, the diocese has ‘seated” a new Bishop. Peachy, eh?
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A word about ecclesiastical rough-and-tumble in the not-so-olden days may be in order here. Bishop’s elections are a bit more gentlemanly (or ladylike) than American political elections of late, but only marginally so. I remember the first time a new Bishop came to my church in Colorado 15 years ago after an election that had been hotly contested. The candidate backed by our Rector had not won. Instead, the guy who did win came smiling down the aisle. And the guy sitting right behind me jumped up and hissed at him, “You SINNER! Shame on you!” I swear, the spittle flew five feet. The verger had already gone past so there was no opportunity for him to beat the venomous prophet about the head. But you could see the smile freeze on the new Bishop’s face. It was a tense moment. And not without lasting consequence.
Long story short, serious bad blood simmered along in the Episcopal church for many years. Our Rector eventually was subjected to a forensic audit by the eventually-not-so-new-Bishop, and found to be culpable. To the tune of about half a million dollars in misappropriated funds. He was defrocked, exiled to the oversight of some African Bishops, lost his pension, pleaded Nolo Contendre in civil court, ended up with at least one felony charge to his name, and was forced to pay reparations. And the losing candidate in that election? He and his family moved to Canada. Where he remains to this day. I kid you not. These guys don’t fool around.
The point of this story has less to do with internecine infighting than it does with the nature of hierarchical institutions. That ugly club is not only historical, and it’s not only wielded ceremonially. Everyone would do well to keep that in mind. Not just clergy, but lay-folk too. And most especially? That unruly guy on the end, spilling out into the path of the oncoming verger. Word to the wise.
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Later this week when the rest of America celebrates the birth of a nation with fireworks and hot dogs, the Episcopal church celebrates its own birthday in splitting off from the Church of England. Of course, buried in the mists of history, it’s hard to imagine the immediacy of those former times. But the potential consequence was not lost on that old Deist, Ben Franklin. He is reputed to have said to his compatriots: “Gentlemen, we must all hang together – or most assuredly, we shall all hang separately.”
Long may freedom ring: Happy Birthday, USA!
And congrats, Bishop Megan: Enjoy sitting in that chair!
Oh, and also?
Remember the verger. He’s got a hefty club.
And it looks to me like he left his smile at home.
Word to the wise.
Capische?
