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a strong sense of presence

 

 

 

Reform's guest Editor for October, Martin Hazell, talks to the Moderator of General Assembly Elizabeth Caswell

 

Being in the company of Elizabeth Caswell is a wonderful experience. She sparkles, coos, guffaws and simply glows, making you feel as if you are the only person she wants to be with in the world. I went one late summer morning to the Eastern Synod Office and simply enjoyed Elizabeth, clutching a mug of warmish, but very dark, tea, telling me about anything I wanted to know. I simply turned the recorder on and asked my first question and she was off. Twenty five minutes later I managed to stop her flow to get in my second question. I looked down my list; how was I going to get through the other seven questions I had prepared? Now I know why they have discs on that Desert Island.

 

If you’ve read Rafael Sabatini’s 1921 novel, Scaramouche, set during the French Revolution you will remember how it begins: ‘He was born with the gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad’. The quote kept coming to mind as Elizabeth regaled me with the story of her faith journey using all her storytelling skills to full effect. I asked her: ‘What makes you laugh?’ to which she replied, ‘almost anything’ and I believed her completely. ‘Wit, puns, accidental things people say; there’s nothing like a situation where I mustn’t laugh to make me want to laugh for half an hour without stopping. Victoria Wood especially makes me laugh.’

 

Elizabeth Caswell started out as a child of a congregational family – they all belonged to Parkroad Congregatonal Church which is now Gracechurch URC – her parents were very involved and their parents before them – it was the sort of church where you could spend the whole of your life; something going on at all times. Elizabeth fitted in perfectly. I wonder though if her parents ever thought their little girl was a bit odd. She claims ‘to have played at ‘church’ like doctors and nurses. I’d come home on a Sunday night, stand on the kitchen chair and ‘preach’– when I was about four.’ Ah, a minister in the making! But it was not for little Miss Elizabeth the usual primary Junior Church activities of model making and singing All things bright and beautiful: ‘I never liked the sissy girly sort of things – I was always the more  thoughtful kind of person’. ‘I’ve never been very good at being a child. I always wanted to be grown up. I think I was born middle-age really.’

 

Life was a lot better in Juniors – ‘we had discussions, that sort of thing. Then we got a new minister Fred Holley – and he was just superb. The way he lead worship and preached – I was old enough to stay in church, and I wanted to stay in church to listen to him preach.

 

When I was about just 12, I fell and broke my leg – I spent the rest of what turned out to be memorably one of the hottest summers in the 50s with my leg in a full length plaster cast. I missed quite a chunk of school. I therefore had a lot of time on my own – and I started reading the Bible and I realised someone was talking to me. There was somebody in the room – it was like – this is a conversation. In the silence there was a strong sense of presence.’

 

commited to Christ

 

Elizabeth’s parents took her to a film – Elmer Gantry (1960). ‘There was a woman evangelist in this film marching behind a cross through the streets trying to rescue people from lives of drink and dissipation. And something just clicked for me: being Christian was about doing things, following Christ, not just pleasant feelings. I went home and committed my life to Christ.

 

‘I then entered a whole new world of spirituality. A world where God’s there all the time and frustratingly so – God’s still here – can I have a rest please? It’s being born again – you enter this new world. Of course it’s been there all the time but I wasn’t listening or seeing.’

 

Thoughts about ministry gradually began to emerge while Elizabeth was at school. She took up with ‘those of us who were serious about being a Christian, we had a weekly Bible group’. Looking back it seemed a natural sequence that lead to her testing her call. ‘It kind of seemed the most obvious thing to do and goes back to that little girl standing on the kitchen stool preaching.’

 

Unsurprisingly, given her background in the church, Elizabeth holds to a more traditional model of ministry and is not slow to identify where as a church, we might have gone wrong: ‘In terms of understanding, knowledge and communicating the faith I think we have in the last two or three generations dumped all that on the minister. So that educated ministry instead of educating others and enabling everyone to grow in faith, has somehow kept people immature – that’s a gross generalisation I know, but there is a passivity about some of our church life particularly in regard to worship and Bible and prayer which I find quite alarming.’ She longs for the sort of preaching and worship where you acknowledge there are questions to be discussed, different ways of seeing things. ‘You should leave worship thinking… well, just thinking would be a start.’

 

She thought about that and burst into laughter. I had my chance to slip in another question. I wanted to know what sustains her, what are the important ingredients to her spiritual life. There’s the Bible, of course: studying it, preaching it and sharing it with others. And of course, the ‘kind of prayer where you are quiet and not going through the motions – closely aligned to music and poetry and friendship and the beauty of the world around – you need space.’ I chuckled to myself as I imagined God more in need of the space – just to get a word in edgeways. And as if reading my mind, she added: ‘Life is a continual conversation with God – but I like the good solid diet and then go off for a substantial feast or fast every so often.’

 

I asked Elizabeth another ‘big’ question: what did she think about the future of the Church? This prompted a huge guffaw from her. She took a breath and launched into what had the hallmarks of a pet subject.

 

‘Part of me wants to say: I am not the slightest bit worried about the future of the United Reformed Church. Another part wants to phrase it differently: I couldn’t care less about it because it is entirely God’s business. The big picture is not about the survival of this or that manifestation of the church but rather: are we faithful to what we perceive to be the big picture. There will always be the traditional kind of church but we need fewer of them. We are seeing new and different and radical manifestations of living a Christian life which are good. We may arrive at, over the next generation, a united church, but what concerns me far more is that as Christians we are revived, reignited, reenergised in our discipleship in a way that we will be able to cope as Christians in times of real difficulty because that is what I think is more likely to happen. It will become increasingly difficult to be a practising Christian. It is therefore imperative that people really know their faith and can survive as Christians in other parts of the world do now in times of violence and persecution. Or as a very small minority as our ancestors did, worshipping in fields and barns.’

 

thoughtful

 

Suddenly a new side to Elizabeth is revealed. Behind what may seem at first a jokey exterior there is a clarity of vision and understanding that is very impressive; true to that little girl in Junior Church, she is much more  thoughtful.

 

She found moderating General Assembly ‘quite exhilarating really’, delighting in the mix of the formal stuff and the more relaxed greeting of different people and giving thanks. ‘It’s a great privilege.’ But it raised and raises questions for her.

 

‘How we make decisions as a church I find quite a difficult area. I think we need to further explore and refine what we mean by being conciliar. We expect people with very little knowledge about something to be making huge decisions that will affect the whole of the church and the people who know most about it are not exactly sidelined but are disabled somehow.’ This is reflected in her desire for the Church to explore further Consensus Decision Making in our councils as a way of helping people to grapple with and debate the issues before they reach a final form on which votes have to be taken.

 

The time had slipped effortlessly away and before I knew it Elizabeth was driving me back to the station. She waved me off and was gone. Off to another round of meetings…

 

Looking ahead she sees a packed year. Elizabeth Caswell will continue to share her faith with those who will listen just as she has done all her life: ‘to encourage people about God and about faith – who God is and what he has done for us through Christ’.

 

 

 

 

 

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