Steve Hewlett
I said long ago that this wasn't going to be a cancer blog, but I have to draw your attention to Steve Hewlett, the BBC's chief media correspondent, who was diagnosed with cancer of the oesophagus a few months ago. Steve has been continuing to present The Media Show on Radio 4 as though nothing was happening, but has also been doing regular slots on the PM programme on Monday evenings (at about a quarter to six) talking to Eddie Mair about his cancer and its treatment. This Monday he explained that he had been told that his cancer was now untreatable. When I first heard one of these slots I didn't want to listen, but did, because I realised at once that he was approaching the experience much as Helen did, which was about living with cancer, not "fighting" it, or "battling" it and letting the struggle define you, but going on with life and trying to retain as much agency as you can. That doesn't mean giving in, but it is about trying to be realistic and practical, but not defined by an illness. Steve has informed himself, and, like Helen, got on a trial for some quite special new drug, but, like Helen, he has now had the message that there is no more that can be done to defeat the cancer, and he has had to adapt to that. His response has been to marry his long-term partner, but also to keep broadcasting. Do go to the Radio 4 website and listen to his conversation with Eddie Mair (and any of the previous ones that are still available). They are a testament of dignity and good sense. Do pray for Steve and his family (if you pray).
I confess I have also kept the copy of the Sunday Times Magazine with A.A.Gill's last article, published the day after the cancer got him. Again, a refusal to be defined by this odious disease, and bursting with the zest for life which characterised his writing. I think people saw a similar zest for life in Helen, and it was still there in her eyes as her body failed; the trouble was that she was so full of life that people didn't see how ill she was, and I suspect it was the same with A.A.Gill. Do pray for him and his family too.
The Bishop's Farewell
Bishop Richard is retiring after 33 years of ministry in London, and his last major public function was to preside at Candlemass in the Cathedral last week. It was a vast affair, with aspects characteristic of Bishop Richard: the Mass setting was Merbecke (the sixteenth-century music for the Book of Common Prayer, which I am old enough to have grown up with) showing his love for the Prayer Book; the Nunc Dimittis was by Rachmaninov, and the Creed by Gretchaninov, and an anthem by John Tavener, all showing his love of the Orthodox tradition. He wore a chasuble of his own, behind which there is no doubt a touching story, but which was quite unsuitable, which is again entirely characteristic. Various exotic Eastern clerics were prominent, and the diversity of Anglicanism in London was demonstrated; all very much part of the story. It was all very well organised, and very well done. I might say in parenthesis that Helen and I attended a beatification Mass at the Duomo in Florence a few years ago and were left thinking how much better it would have been done at St.Paul's. So, a very splendid evening.
Not so splendid, though, for Pauline, who went along to represent St.Peter's. She's of Jamaican heritage, and was flabbergasted when the city gent who came and sat next to her used the "N" word. From her account, it's clear that he was meaning to be supportive ("But I'm on your side!" he protested) but he was also quite drunk, after apparently a livery company lunch. Poor Pauline was just too dumbfounded to make a fuss, but it utterly spoiled the occasion for her, and spectacularly undermined our rather self-congratulatory vision of what contemporary London (and especially the Church in London) is like. This was clearly someone well-educated, and well-brought-up, who firstly thought it was appropriate to go to church when visibly drunk, but also seemed not to have learnt that it is simply not acceptable to use the "N" word in conversation. Certainly not in public. Least of all to a black person. And actually, when was it ever polite to use that word to a black person? That was part of the shock, that Pauline naturally expected this person (well-dressed, well-spoken, in church) to have good manners. Not necessarily good sense, but at least good manners, but apparently he had neither. Most of the drunks we get in church round here tend to be the scruffy sort, but they are mostly polite and behave when told. I don't mean to be pious about this, but it is a reminder that you can't take anything for granted. Politeness is a much underestimated virtue!
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