“I may question the infallibility of the teachers, but I hope that I shall not therefore be accused of doubt as to the things to be taught.”
Anthony Trollope, Barchester Towers
In my Austen book club, someone suggested that we read Anthony Trollope’s book, Barchester Towers. Since my attention span is shot to hell after so many years of scrolling Twitter and clickbait about gross pictures from history, I found a 1982 adaptation of the book and its prequel, The Warden, on YouTube (starring a REALLY young Alan Rickman as Obadiah Slope–wow), and I quickly devoured all seven episodes in a Saturday, despite the poor production values. I am still only a few chapters into the book, but I am confident I can bluff my way through our next meeting. After all, I have a degree in English and therefore lots of practice.
Trollope wrote about the evangelical reformations that were happening in the Victorian Church of England, and like Austen, his characters are the real draw, in all their perfectly-captured imperfections. It was impossible to avoid recognizing the types of people we find in our own Church, even though we don’t have a professional, paid clergy (*cough* *stipends* *cough*). While the offices and forms may differ, the attitudes and foibles are the same. The chief villain of the book is Mr. Obadiah Slope (played by a twenty-something Alan Rickman), the chaplain to the new Bishop, Dr. Proudie. Mr. Slope is an evangelical and wants to modernize and reform the Church by prohibiting Sunday travel, establishing evangelical-interpretation-based Sunday Schools to indoctrinate the children, and eliminating a lot of the choral singing which he believes “obscures” the plain truths [1].
Mr. Harding: a kindly clergyman who is given a job based on nepotism that overpays him and has no requirements, but hurts no one. He resigns when he is criticized in the newspaper due to a lawsuit against the Church, although his son-in-law, the Archdeacon wants him to fight against this lawsuit and assures him unsuccessfully that he was chosen on merit.
Dr. Grantly, the Archdeacon: Mr. Harding’s ambitious, canny son-in-law who wants the Bishopric, but doesn’t get it. He has a wealthy position in the Church, but would like more power. He is highly opinionated and ready to fight for his ideals. He dislikes evangelicals and church reform, preferring instead the old, high church traditions.
Mr. Proudie, the Bishop of Barchester: a completely ineffectual leader who barely speaks a word and lets his judgmental, high-minded wife make all decisions and speak for him. He becomes the Bishop when Dr. Grantly’s father dies. Or rather, we should say his wife and chaplain become the Bishop of Barchester.
Mr. Obadiah Slope: an ambitious, maneuvering chaplain who works for Mr. Proudie. Like Mrs. Proudie, he is an evangelical with an agenda to enforce obedience and to control the diocese by surrounding himself with biddable “yes men.” He is on the lookout for a wealthy wife, a higher position in the Church, and a bigger income and scope of power.
Mrs. Proudie: She is a wealthy, judgmental evangelical woman who makes all decisions for the bishop and speaks on his behalf. She only wants to surround herself with people she can control, and will eviscerate anyone who crosses her. She wants to do what’s right, and she doesn’t care who she has to destroy to do it. She disapproves of Mr. Slope’s flirtation with the local women, partly on the basis of “propriety,” partly because she despises his main object who has slighted her, and partly because she can’t control Mr. Slope, and that’s unacceptable to her.
The Jupiter: A newspaper that reports a lot of gossip about the clergy and others in the parish, including criticism of the Church of England. The paper is usually pro-reform, even citing specific changes the Church should make to duties and salaries of various positions and gossiping about individuals who hold Church office. (Maybe like the Trib or the bloggernacle?)
The characters resonate so much with what we see in Mormonism, and frankly, what’s going on with doubling down again and again on worthiness interviews and our war on LGBT people. The novel is just delightful and terrible all at once in its insights.
Dr. Proudie is the new Bishop of Barchester. He is a weak man whose evangelical-leaning wife rules the roost, both at home and in the bishopric. He also has a chaplain, the ambitious Mr. Slope, (a lower ranking clergyman) who does the sermons for him and conducts all business so he can sit back in his comfort and wealth from his London home usually. Idealogically, both Mr. Slope and Mrs. Proudie (who are competing for control of the diocese) are strict sabbatarians, enforcing rules for the congregants about sabbath day observance, and seeking to tear down the ceremonial “high church” practices that are in place in the Cathedral (such as too much music in the service rather than “plain spoken preaching” that he favors).
“The ‘desecration of the Sabbath’ as he delights to call it, is to him meat and drink: he thrives upon that as policemen do on the general evil habits of the community.”
Anthony Trollope, Barchester Towers
After his particularly heated sermon in which he criticizes the use of music, the gentle Mr. Harding (who previously published a popular hymnal for Anglican choirs) is so offended that he won’t speak to the man until forced. Mr. Harding is a humble clergyman, one who leaves a lucrative position when he’s been criticized as benefiting from nepotism (a charge that is obviously true–his son-in-law is the Archdeacon, and his son-in-law’s father is the now deceased Bishop who appointed Mr. Harding as the Warden). Mr. Harding is devoted to gardening, music, and enjoying his time with others in his care. He is a pastoral leader, through and through, not interested in power or pursuing his own plans, thinking the best of everyone. He is a stark contrast to Mr. Slope who is highly ambitious and combative:
“He regards the greater part of the world as being too bad for his care. As he walks through the streets his very face denotes his horror of the world’s wickedness. . . .To him the mercies of our Savior speak in vain . . . To him the New Testament is comparatively of little moment, for from it can he draw no fresh authority for that dominion which he loves to exercise over at least a seventh part of man’s allotted time here below.””He intends to be, if not their master, at least the chief among them. He intends to lead and to have followers; he intends to hold the purse-strings of the diocese and draw around him an obedient herd of his poor and hungry brethren.”
Anthony Trollope, Barchester Towers (description of Mr. Obadiah Slope)
When Mr. Harding visits “members of the flock” it is to enjoy their company, to support them, and to share beauty with them through music and gardening. There is a quiet joy in the man that reminds me of leaders like E. Uchtdorf or Pres. Hunter. By contrast, Mr. Slope visits others to gain power and control over them for his own ambitions and because he sees them all as inferior:
He conceives it to be his duty to know all the private doings and desires of the flock entrusted to his care. From the poorer classes, he exacts an unconditional obedience to set rules of conduct, and if disobeyed, he has recourse.
Anthony Trollope, Barchester Towers (description of Mr. Obadiah Slope)
Dr. Grantly (the wealthy Archdeacon and son-in-law to Mr. Harding) is no saint and has his own ambitions, but I ultimately found his character much less reprehensible, and he reminds me more of leaders like Monson (on a good day) or Hinckley:
Dr. Grantly interfered very little with the worldly doings of those who were in any way subject to him. I do not mean to say that he omitted to notice misconduct among his clergy, immorality in his parish, or omissions in his family, but he was not anxious to do so where the necessity could be avoided. He was not troubled with a propensity to be curious.
Anthony Trollope, Barchester Towers
Despite this, he was also not a boat-rocker in any real sense, instead deferring to the office while hating its inhabitant.
He was well aware of all Dr. Proudie’s abominable opinions as regarded dissenters, church reform, the hebdominal council, and such like; though he disliked the man, and hated the doctrines, still he was prepared to show respect to the station of the bishop.
Anthony Trollope, Barchester Towers
Because the author is portraying church leaders (albeit fictional ones) in all their imperfections, including deceitfulness, greed, and ambition, he feels it necessary to soften his writing by pointing out that his criticisms are solely of human foibles, not the gospel itself. The author wants it known that he is still a Christian, just not one who is blind to the flawed manipulations of the ambitious clergy, whether reformers or not.
The Archdeacon Dr. Grantly is from the old school, high church group, and while he also has ambitions, he doesn’t like these reformists one bit. Neither do I, and yet, in reading the book it occurs to me that Mormons were more aligned with reformists than with the high church, and the reformists, while controlling and intolerant in the book, were also inclined to do charitable works, although the motive they have in the book seems to be to obligate the poor to the Church. Like the Mormon church, we have leaders who are controlling, who encourage tattling and interrogating others’ beliefs and actions, focusing on orthodoxy and conformity to get to heaven. Unlike Mormonism, the progressive reforms being sought tend to be more high church / live and let live rather than the evangelical ideals espoused by Slope and Proudie.
Conclusion
What I found particularly surprising is just how much these characters, their perspectives, and their plotting resembled attitudes and actions in our own church, both at the local and institutional level. Here are several “types” and behaviors that I found in the novel that seem as true for our current, modern church as for the Victorian era Church of England.
- The ambitious drive out the humble. You can really get things done in the Church, so long as you don’t let humility or your desire to be Christ-like get in the way. Self-doubt is the enemy of power.
- Those who revere the office if not the man still may be unwilling to check others’ power, even if the one in power is doing things with which they disagree.
- Many are easily manipulated by those who seek to control them to increase the scope of their influence.
- In a marriage, a weaker spouse may be dominated by one who is harsher; sometimes a strong-willed spouse will usurp a weaker spouse’s calling in the Church.
- There are those who see the gospel as being oriented around forgiveness and private devotion, and there are others for whom the gospel is about policing others and enforcing behaviors; some prefer to preach from a standpoint of fear and rules, while others prefer to inspire, love and support from afar and stay out of people’s heads. These two “types” will always be locked in secret combat, with the congregational experience depending entirely on who has more power at a given time.
This is what I love about fiction. In reading fiction, the human experience is portrayed in a way that allows greater insight through reflection. We find “types” of human behavior that are familiar, and through the plot, we can see how the interactions change the outcomes. It reveals humanity to us, in all its flaws and beauty.
- Do any of these character descriptions resonate for you?
- Have you seen characters like these in your local ward or in higher levels in the Church?
- Do you consider yourself more like a “low Church reformer” who thinks it right to evaluate the quality of others’ beliefs or a “high Church” person who considers it none of their business to know others’ beliefs?
Discuss.
[1] Plain and precious truths, maybe?
We have an overabundance of Obadiah Slopes controlling our church right now, don’t we?
I don’t think the ritualistic differences between high church and low church styles have much correlation toward a tendency for thought control. The catholic inquisition being an example of strong thought control in a high church structure. Conversely, Unitarians lean low church, yet exert no thought control. You have a red hat/blue hat comparison going on here.
There’s a fantastic audio dramatisation of the full chronicles by the bbc that my sister bought me. I really enjoyed listening to those.
I have previously stated my personal preference to separate the Church as an institution apart from the gospel of Christ as a spiritual path, so apologies if that gets old to read. But the practices for calling and maintaining leadership in the LDS Church bring with it natural consequences that (in my opinion) diminish the quality of spiritual experience for individual members. For example:
–The doctrines and eternal principles of the gospel are often created/reduced to policies and hobby subjects for current leaders. We don’t really have a well-established or universally applied process for doctrinal development or theology. And our reliance on scripture as historical or pure revelation absolutely amplifies this mess.
–The top spiritual leaders are also the ones sitting on boards, councils, PR events, management of church assets, etc. There’s only so much time and energy they can devote to the competing interests of the Church, and they offload much of it to other groups or committees. The curriculum suffers. The impact of GC addresses is minimal. The depth of member’s testimonies wanes.
–Because of the former (and probably the ideas of prosperity gospel / career preparation for service in the kingdom) influence and experience in corporate/legal environments seems to be more crucial to a GA calling (and to a lesser degree a local Stake Pres/Bishop calling) as opposed to deep experience with spiritual/pastoral skills, understanding of human development and growth etc. We have organizational managers as our spiritual leaders, which creates all sorts of conflict and (I think) unintentional harm to individuals.
–We certainly DO have a paid ministry at the top levels and for mission presidents. It’s not a stretch–they receive financial payment and benefits as a result of their calling in the Church. Yes, our local leaders are not “paid” but our religion is top-down controlled and heavily guarded in terms of its financial transparency. We look gullible, idiotic, and brain-washed when we ignore those facts.
While I don’t know that ambition can be a primary driver for how an LDS leader is called, once a person is called into a position of leadership, you better pray their only desire is to follow the basic commandments and characteristics of Christ or it will feel like a corporate dictatorship rather than a shepherd caring for its flock. Luckily, my personal experience is that local Bishops do this well most the time. But going up the chain, it has always been more disconnected and corporate.
JLM: Trollope’s views of high church / low church were likely idiosyncratic based on his own experiences. His mother was strongly anti-Evangelical when he was growing up, and at that time, it was a rising movement in opposition to the High Church practices his own family preferred: “To understand the essays and Trollope’s attitude towards Church reform, one must place them in the context provided by Trollope’s own religious changing beliefs and the influences upon them. He seems to have first been an adherent of High Church Anglicanism. The High Church, often characterized as “high and dry” to Trollope’s annoyance, placed great emphasis on a restrained style of worship.” The zealotry and unrestrained enthusiasm of the low church movement (at that time and in that place) were seen by the high church adherents as excessive and uncouth. But he wasn’t strictly against the reforms they pushed, just their methods and well, personalities. There’s an interesting article on his religious views and how they evolved here: https://victorianweb.org/authors/trollope/niles1.html#:~:text=To%20understand%20the%20essays%20and,adherent%20of%20High%20Church%20Anglicanism.
But yes, trying to map Trollope’s high church and low church views onto contemporary sects will not match up, and his views may not even be an accurate representation of them in his own time. The characters he creates are very realistic, however. They aren’t a product of whether they are high church or low church, but their own style of leadership and their ambitions are what makes them relatable to our time.
Hawkgrrrl:
Absolutely one of your best posts.
Being a “Wasatch Front” member, I have seen the human condition manifest itself many times in the LDS world, from Bishops giving harsh worthiness interviews to teens (at the insistence of a zealous Stake President trying to make a name for himself) to a group of released-time seminary teachers who went on crusades against the teaching of evolution by their students’ biology teachers… until they crossed swords with an A.P. Biology teacher who cleaned their clocks. That last one would have made a great novel!
I find novels examining religious life and also looking at religious life through a different lens (Jewish, Hindu, etc.) so edifying that I recommend novels (I like Chaim Potok) and the study of comparative religions to those experiencing mild faith crises. I honestly would have left the LDS faith behind without gaining the ability to examine my own religious practice and journey from various perspectives.
In fact, I purposely took my children to various places of worship as they grew up. I asked them to imagine being Jewish, Hindu, Presbyterian, Catholic, etc. I talked about plural marriage and other controversies at the dinner table. I always allowed them to openly question every aspect of faith and religion without criticism. At my insistence, they took comparative religions courses in college. I avoided sending them to my alma mater (BYU) because I believe a mono-culture creates the imbalances which destroy religious faith and meaningful practice. We cannot be the salt of the earth as a majority. My children have grown up as active, openly eclectic and spiritual Latter-day Saints with close friends from a variety of faiths.
English major skills going strong here Angela.
Agree with @counselor that most bishops are good (with some massive exceptions) and then the higher up you get the more corporate it becomes. And yet the higher up, the more “spiritual” we assume a leader to be.
I wonder how we could fix that. Obviously there are benefits to a centralized leadership to keep things organized but my thinking is we’d be better off if they stuck to logistics and left all the spiritual stuff local instead of trying so hard to exert spiritual control from the red chairs.
Interesting piece – makes me want to read the book! I don’t really have anything to add as I’m fortunate to be part of a ward and stake where the leadership is wonderful – kind, humble and inclusive people. The last few leadership experiences have been pretty similar but I’m also aware of horror stories in some neighboring stakes. Also nepotism etc. it can be a crapshoot unfortunately. I have anxiety about seeking a TR to attend an important family wedding but at least I know my particular leaders will be kind and thoughtful when considering my increasingly nuanced belief – or disbelief.