The Methodist Superintendent Minister, Larry Seagry, was a slightly overweight man of about sixty with a fringe of short cropped hair around an otherwise bald head. Heavy black eyebrows peeped over the top of wire framed glasses and he had a ready smile that I instinctively distrusted. On his lapel there was as tin badge which read, “There’s a Methodist in my madness”.

“Dave,” he said, extending a hand, “So pleased to finally meet you.”

“Likewise,” I lied, clasping his hand, “But I prefer to be called David. Please, take a seat.”

I gestured to one of the low sofa seats that I kept for guests, and sat back in my desk chair. Both his knees clicked as he sat down.

“I was so sorry to hear of the death of Wendy[1]”, he said, “She was so instrumental in bringing this LEP to fruition.”

I nodded in acceptance of his condolences.

At this point I should briefly outline Local Ecumenical Projects, or LEPs. I will try to make it as painless as possible. Back in the 1700’s, the Church of England was undergoing one of its regular bouts of stupidity. On this occasion it was forgetting that it was supposed to help the poor, the exploited, the needy, the starving, and generally ignoring anyone who wasn’t of the right social strata. John Wesley, a Church of England priest decided this wasn’t good enough and with some colleagues did something about it. They did a good job which earnt them the disfavour of the Church of England, and eventually ended up leaving to form the Methodist Church. It was a lot more complicated than that, of course, but it gives you the general idea.

Fast forward to the twentieth century and people realised that having two churches with identical beliefs pretty much ignoring each other was idiotic. It took them another sixty years to do anything about it – this is the Church, after all. These days LEPs, which is to say, places where the two Churches work alongside each other are fairly common. Certainly it was advantageous to my career trajectory to be part of one. Yet despite all their common sense practicalities they are not without their problems, hence my reluctance. And it is something that had been dumped in my lap by someone with no understanding and even less interest in the dynamics of my parish. Not only that, but she had been inconsiderate enough to die in my church making it very difficult to argue with her. It’s not easy being a priest.

One more piece of tedious information – my apologies for inflicting this on you, but there is a Methodist to these explanations. In the Church of England, a parish roughly corresponds to a town, a deanery to a district, and a diocese to a county. In the Methodist church this approximates to churches, circuits and districts. Confusing, I know, but as a Superintendent Minister, Larry ran the local circuit.

“Now, Dave, I’ve brought you a copy of the Circuit Plan for the next quarter,” he said, producing a sheet of paper. I took it and began to read as he continued to speak.

“As you can see, I’ve managed to arrange for you to take services at all fifteen churches in the circuit, and similar for Mr Path, your local preacher on trial.”

He beamed at me, expecting gratitude.

“We call them Lay Ministers in the Church of England. And the expression is `In Training’, not `On Trial’.”

I decided not to mention that “On Trial” was probably not a good phrase to use when talking about Psycho. He might misinterpret it.

“Well, I’m sure this will be an ideal training opportunity for him.”

“I notice that on the 25th you have him in Crossall at 9:30 and at Nebeck at 11:00. By my reckoning, that’s forty-five miles on A and B roads with, what? At most half an hour travelling time. That isn’t going to work.”

I neglected to say that Psycho would accept such a challenge with relish, and could probably do it easily – if not necessarily legally – on his over-powered bike.

“I’m sure he’ll find a way to manage.”

“Who will be supervising him? I see that I am planned elsewhere, as are you. Will your Rev. Down be there?” I referred to the other ordained minister in the Circuit.

“Well, no one, of course,” said Larry, appearing somewhat surprised. “Why should they?”

“Because until Psycho is licensed as a Lay Minister, he is not permitted to preach unsupervised. Unless you just want a prayer service with no sermon.”

“Really? How extraordinary! Still, he’ll be in a Methodist church, so it won’t matter.”

“I’m afraid it will. He might be in a Methodist church, but he is still in training with the Anglican Church.”

“That does seem rather pedantic.”

“In any case, I cannot permit this. It is an excessive number of services for someone at this stage in his ministry, and grossly unfair to treat him as pulpit fodder.”

Larry sighed. “Ah, now you’re sounding just like my late wife.”

“Late wife?”

“Yes, Sally, poor thing. Died in a terrible boating accident.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Well, we learn to move on, we learn to move on.”

“Indeed. Well, I notice that you have planned me only once in my own church in three months.”

“Yes, yes, but I’ve planned various local preachers in your place, so that shouldn’t be a problem. Of course, I’ve had to change your service times here and there, but I’m sure that won’t be an issue.”

“I’m afraid it will. Firstly, it is required that Holy Communion be celebrated in the parish at least once a week, which a local preacher is obviously not qualified to do. Secondly, for me to be absent from my parish for such an extended period would be neglecting my duties.”

“Ah, you really are sounding just like Sally.”

“Truly, your life has been touched by tragedy, but let us return to the matter in hand.”

“Of course the church members were most supportive.”

“I can imagine.”

“But I am pleased to be able to tell you that recently I have become engaged again.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, to Margaret. She is very understanding of the devastation in my life.”

“However,” I said, “To return to the subject of the Plan, I am afraid that I cannot commit to it in the present form.”

“Yes, but you have a new curate starting soon, don’t you? I’ve planned him in, too.”

“Oh, is this the mysterious Mr. X on the Plan? I can see that he is going to be quite busy as well. Certainly busier than you.”

“Unfortunately, I did not know his name, so yes, I put him down as Mr X.”

“I will put on one side for the moment that after Bishop James ordains him next week he will be a reverend, not a mister. I will also bypass the question of why you did not contact me to discover his name. Instead, I will note that you have not permitted him one opportunity to take a single service at St. James.”

“Ah. But perhaps he might occasionally visit St. James to take a communion service? Perhaps on one of his free evenings?”

“No, that would not be possible. He will not be priested until a year after he is ordained, and so can’t officiate at communion. Besides, this schedule would represent an abuse of a curate. I am sure that your late wife would have agreed.”

“Yes,” he said, tugging at his lower lip. “Well, I have to say, I’m rather disappointed by your attitude. I feel I may have to discuss this with the District Chairman.”

“Please, do so. In fact, I would invite it. A Local Ecumenical Project is a partnership, not a means to make it easier for you to fill slots in the Circuit Plan.”

He remained silent, and it seemed that this was going to be the shortest lived LEP in the history of LEPs.

“Right,” I said, “I will take one service a month on the Methodist Circuit. Additionally, if you wish and he agrees to it, Psycho will preach once a quarter on the Circuit under the direction of either yourself or Rev. Down. He will be under strict instructions not to preach if there is no one to supervise him.”

“And what if there is a last-minute problem that prevents us attending and he still preaches?”

“Trust me, he won’t.”

Larry grunted. “Why do you call him Psycho, anyway? Is it a play on his last name?”

“I call him Psycho because that is his Christian name. His name is Psycho Path.”

“Astonishing. And what about your new curate?”

“Martin Day. A more common, but equally functional name. Perhaps if we add him to the plan for the next quarter? Depending on how he settles in, of course.”

Larry sat there, tugging his lower lip.

“So, if you revise this plan along the lines I suggested, and then we can have this conversation again.”

Larry remained quiet.

I smiled pleasantly, then added, “It would be helpful if you could do it before the LEP inauguration service in two weeks’ time.”

Abigail opened the door to my study, holding Larry’s coat. Wordlessly, he took it, knees clicking again, and walked to the front door.

Just before he departed, I asked, “Tell me, if you were to choose a pet, in your position as Superintendent Minister, what would you choose?”

“What? Oh. Well, Margaret has some little terrier. Calls him Truffles. But I’ve always fancied a goat.”

With that, he left. I watched him walk to his car, and closed the door.

“I would keep an eye him, if I were you,” Abigail said.

I nodded, and on the assumption she had been eavesdropping asked, “Opinion?”

She frowned a moment in thought, then said, “He’s used to getting his own way. Probably controls his circuit very tightly.”

“I agree. I wonder what happens to dissenters in the Circuit Meeting?”

“Leave it with me,” she said.

Good help is so hard to come by these days.

I made notes on the meeting – both private notes and notes that could be presented to the Diocese if required – before heading out for Souper Saturday. After, I prepared for the next day’s service before spending time with Mabel. She was saddened to hear of the tragic death of Larry’s wife. Still, as she was sure that Sally would now be living in the House of the Lord, it was comforting to see a man of such faith as Larry. Amen.

And so it was Sunday. And, as I had expected, Martin Day, the new curate-to-be was sitting at the back of the church.

[1] Footnote: It has become necessary once again to refer to the Bishop’s Chaplain, Wendy. In order to fully understand her fate, I would refer you to the print edition of the “Diary of a Sociopathic Vicar” which contains this heretofore unrevealed information.

Disclaimer to footnote: It is regrettable that yet again, Rev. David Wilson has neglected to include the ISBN number of “Diary of a Sociopathic Vicar” (ISBN: 978-183832275-5), thus severely hampering the budget of the Diocesan Office of the Disclaimant.

Disclaimer: Rev. David Wilson is demonstrating a remarkable interest in the Superintendent Minister preferred choice of pet. Although it is curious for a Methodist Superintendent Minister to desire a pet goat, this should not affect the LEP in any fashion.