About Parsons And "Pazons" By One Of 'Em

Auckland Star, Volume LXXII, Issue 181, 2 August 1941, Page 6

About Parsons And "Pazons" By One Of 'Em

By Rev. C. W. Chandler

COME years ago a Toe H lecturer from England visited Australia and came to Rookhampton to talk • to a body of clergy. I remember how. to the intense amusement of his listeners, he said, "you know, you clergy are like manure—your main | usefulness lies in being well spread. J In a heap you are a positive embarrassment." ;

I The same might also be said of j doctors. schoolmasters, or town | clerks when in conference. ! The average parson is a helpless i individualist in spite of all the caricatures one sees of him in humorous journals, which suggest a rigid type—glasses down on nose; trousers well hoisted: hands placed together with fingertips just touching; eyebrows raised: head bent downwards anil lips pursed. Doubtless there are peculiar mannerisms common to clerics, as there are to sailors, hod-carriers and linen drapers. Mentally they are as different as the proverbial chalk and cheese. Therr Arc "Differences" j In T. K. Brown's "Betsy I,ee" there | is a pleasing picture of a Manx parson. It is written in dialect. j Now ihr grandest ould pazon. I'll be bail. j That ever vva«. was ould Pazon Gale. ' Aw. of eil the kina n".d the Bond rntl the iruc' \ Ar.fl ihe aisy and free, and ."How do you d.-i? ! And how's your mother. T in, mil lie fUihln'?" Rnnki:i- thai nice and allis « ishin' Oord lurk ro 11-.e ho.its. and "Hows the take?" ftud blcssln' its there lor Jesus sake. * ■■:■ * * Walking down the irfain street in t'ossnock. New South Wales, one Sunday morning during the coal strike of 1!i:'>0. I caught sight of a number j of miners playing cards in the porch i o!' a .shop. When within l-"> yards of J t'nem I heard one of them say. "Look i out boys, here's a parson." 1 j was highly amused. When, however, another of them replied, "get out. you silly . that's Chandler." 1 was prompted to join in the game. As the live policeman in Madame Tussaud's waxwork show in London was often touched by nervous children to see if he was real, so with the utmost timidity the ordinary ! man approaches a parson to sec if he is human. On Being Human A parson should be human. Our Lord was. He'd have passed the time o' day with anyone as He looked ;>ut on the street from His carpenter's bench, at. His neighbours passing by. Of course it is quite possible that His neighbours couldn't quite make Him out. I can picture a bearded old son of the synagogue accosting Joseph in the street. "You'll have to watch that lad of yours—giving you the slip like he did in Jerusalem." As for the irreligious neighbours, should there have been any. they would probably have smiled and nudged one another when they saw the Holy Family off to the synagogue every Sabbath day. When He set out on His great mission, the whole of Nazareth was astir with gossip. "What's He going to do?" "Bet He'll be baek soon!" "Fancy leaving his father to carry on alone." "He'll land Himself before the Sanhedrin—you mark my words." "They'll not stand His revolutionary doctrine." "His mother must be broken-hearted." "His cousin John has had a bad influence on Him—the fiery jackunape." * * * * More than once I've seen the front curtain pulled aside an inch or so while someone has peeped through to see who's there when I've called on my parish rounds. If it had been anyone else but the parson they'd have opened the door; but the drawing room not being tidy, and' no one being dressed to receive me, they jtist pretended they were not at home. "Kitchen Friends" I think we should count bur progress by the number of kitchens we can enter. This front room stuff is far too cold and starchy, and cold starch is as far removed from real religion as a refrigerator is from a blast-furnace. * * * * Chaplains in war time have an admirable opportunity of displaying their humanity. When we read that Hiddlestone, Baptist minister of Epsom, together with Moody and de Clive Lowe, stopped on Crete to succour the wounded, we thrill with pride. It was in the last war that Studdert Kennedy became "Woodbine Willie" to all the Tommies on the Western Front, and although he came back disillusioned about all the "glories" of war, he has left behind him an imperishable name as a man whose love for God shone through his intense humanity.

Talking about "Tommies." I was particularly struck the other day when a parishioner of mine whose son was in the last lifeboat to leave Greece, showed me the last letter she had received from him, following his embarkation. Two Quid for "Upstairs" "There is something I want you to do for me, mother," said he. "Take five quid out of my military account and put two pounds in the church envelope and put it into the offertory plate next Sunday. With the other three buy something for yourself which, at a later day, I can look at and say, 'that was bought when I was over here.' As for the church envelope, I wish to keep it up, for I reckon, to put it crudely. I sure owe a couple of quid upstairs." That's one of the deep truths which shines out of this war—the intense humanity of those who are taking part in it. If there isn't enough good material among them out of which to make this new world then I'll go back to the clerical flat hat of the Victorian era, and like the parson in "Charley's Aunt," demolish nothing more harmful than Bath buns and glasses of milk to the end of my days. As a matter of fact, although I hardly know how to say it, there are few men in society more human than the average parson actually is. We have to rr4x and by the time we've baptised, married and buried for 10 years or so in one community the strands of friendship we have woven are strong enough to stand any test. •■But avast thW talk! What! What did you ! Tell us'more aßout the Pazon—eh? Well, well! He was a Pazon. yes! I But there's odds of pazons. that's the way it Is. ! For there's pazons now that mortal proud, And some middlin' humble that's allowed. And there's pazons partiklcr about their clothes. With rings on their fingers and bells on their toes; And there's pa zone that doesn't know your •Shut the rate, my man! , and all them ef.wirs. And there's pazons too free—fve heard one cv s * As bard and as hearty as any of us."