The Final Word

From the memoirs of the Rev Jeremiah Thumpington.

In Sheriff Hutton Church there is a monument in the south isle to Rev Jonn Lascelles. The inscription states that he was the faithful vicar of the parish for twenty five years, but that on the 4^th of June, 1905, he died when preaching in the pulpit.

I read this with some alarm, what if it were to happen to me? 

I questioned whether, for the sake of my health, I should restrain my tendency to tub thumping rants from on high. I find congregations seem only inclined to repent once I have reached a certain volume and velocity.

You can see it in their eyes.

However, further research cast a different pallor on this doleful monument. I found the following article from a local newspaper,

“The Rev John Lascelles, Vicar of Sheriff Hutton, York, died with tragic suddenness in his pulpit on Sunday morning. He was preaching from the text, "I go to prepare a place for you, etc.," and was contrasting the coming into the world of a newly-born child with the going out of old people. His emotion seemed to master him, and after repeating the words "going out," he dropped down in the pulpit. He was at once conveyed to the vestry, where it was found that life was extinct. Death was due to an attack of heart failure.”

I realised the Rev Lascelles had died by way of a vivid sermon illustration, touched on the shoulder by the hand of Providence at the very moment he was repeating those fateful two words, "going out." There could be no clearer elucidation of the meaning of his sermon than the forlorn sight of his dignified ecclesiastical figure declining in the pulpit.

At once I was struck by the pathetic yet meaningful manner of his demise, but also the realisation that I was in no danger of being struck down in the like manner if I merely avoided sermonising on the topic of the new born arriving in this world in contrast to the elderly departing therein. I had erroneously assumed it was apoplexy that took away the good Reverend's breath, but no! It was an exposition on human mortality that did for him.

Surely, even to avoid the words, "going out," would be enough to preserve me from death in a pulpit!

Praise be! I could continue my vigorous sermonising of the congregation. They surely would have been disappointed otherwise. I recall the first time I delivered a sermon in my present church, after the service a parishioner was heard approvingly to say, “my, the new Vicar's got a wild look in his eye!” At this I knew instantly I was appreciated.

Should the Captain of the pulpit be pitched overboard by a fiercesome storm the parochial ship may indeed founder, but with his eye on the horizon, and his command booming out clear and strong, no dangers or trials shall overcome his vessel.

Amen.