6/CHRONICLESnRIGHTS OF CLERGYnIsaw my old friend Browne recently. The subject eventuallynturned to the politics of religion and the religion ofnpolitics. I asked him what he thought about the currentnAnglican debate over homosexuality, and I wondered aloudnif it had anything to do with the obvious unmanliness of thenclergy — the final phase of what Ann Douglas calledn”feminization.” Somewhat hesitantly he confessed that henhadn’t been in an Episcopal church for a number of years. Inassumed that he had gone back to his family’s ancestralnMethodism or Calvinism, but no. He simply didn’t go tonchurch. “I had my children christened and confirmed. I didnmy duty, and it’s up to them now. The truth is,” hendeclared, “I can no longer stand the effrontery of clergymen.”nI made the best case for going to church I could think ofnat that late hour and quoted George Herbert at him:nJudge not the preacher, for he is thy judgenIf thou mistake him, thou conceiv’st him not:nPERSPECTIVEnby Thomas FlemingnnnGod calleth preaching folly: do not grudgento pick out treasures from an earthen pot:nthe worst speak something good; if all want sense,nGod takes the text and preacheth patience.nBut I could see that I was making little headway. I wasnreminded of a conversation I’d had a year or so ago withnanother former Anglican — a distinguished social philosophernwho tried to explain to me how he had spent 10 yearsnin an unsuccessful attempt to be a regular communicant. Innthe end, he gave it up. The clergy, he insisted, wereninsupportable: vain, pretentious, poorly educated, and politicallynincorrigible were the more polite charges. To this list,nmy friend Browne adds the worst: “Their sermons arenboring. Sam Johnson went to plain prayer services — nonsermons—-to set a good example. He didn’t want people tonthink he went to church only to be entertained by thensermon. Small chance of that, these days.”nimy^mn• • ‘ . ‘ . • • • ‘ . – • , ‘n