Murder, Mystery, and Memory

A sermon for the Second Sunday of Easter, April 7, 2024
St. Saviour Anglican Church, Penticton, BC

Having opened the murder-mystery floodgates last week—the tomb was empty, so no body, but we do know who killed him, Pilate and noisy voices within an unruly crowd—I cannot resist the temptation to continue with the genre of crime fiction on this so-called “low Sunday.” I am led along this same path by members of the Canadian Sisterhood of St. John the Divine (SSJD), our own order of Anglican nuns, who offered up a beautiful reflection on doubt, error, apology, and honesty on social media this past week.

Their words are a vast improvement over what I might say about “doubting” Thomas, a situation where doubt is often seen as a failure of faith (of which there is literally no such thing). The SSJD reflection begins with four words spoken by the hero in Louise Penny’s crime novels, Armand Gamache, commencing with the first title, Still Life.

“I don’t know.”
“I was wrong.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I need help.”

In our world of violence, greed, power, and control it is a joy to find a truly humble person, one (who) is willing, like Jesus, to suffer the pain of humility in order to defeat evil and uncover the deep goodness in the human heart.

Armand Gamache, while not a real person, undergoes a kind of paschal journey if you follow him through Louise Penny’s twenty murder-mystery novels. There is always resurrection and reconciliation at the end of (each story).

As head of the homicide division of the Sureté Québec, he represents ultimate goodness (who is) also a flawed human being who has given his life to (the pursuit of) truth, love, goodness, and reconciliation.

In the “radio play” version of New York Times best-selling author Louise Penny’s Still Life, we meet him as he is starting a murder investigation in the fictional (but realistic) Quebec village of Three Pines in the Eastern Townships (just outside of Montreal).

He has been assigned a new assistant named Yvette Nichol – a brash, over-eager-to-please young recruit to the Québec police force. When Gamache has had enough of her naïve arrogance, he gently takes her aside and teaches her the four things that a good police officer needs to be able to say, from the heart:

“I don’t know.”
“I was wrong.” 
“I’m sorry.”
“I need help.”

In every one of her twenty novels, Louise Penny has Armand repeat these words of wisdom in varying circumstances. They get at the very heart of who he is, who he thinks police officers should be, and indeed what every human being should be who has any kind of power or authority over other human beings.

Louise Penny, and the murder mystery genre in general, provides an opportunity to explore the violent world we live in and how to deal with it. (Penny) has said that all her novels are about goodness, and that is certainly true in the “radio play” that will be performed as a fundraiser for the Sisterhood’s Guest House renovations.

[Ken Gray] Speaking personally, if you have not had an opportunity to visit St. John’s Convent in Toronto I suggest you do so. I have spent a quiet week there during a time of personal crisis. To join with an active worshipping community is a true gift. As one Colwood parishioner said to me as I visited her in a Victoria psychiatric ward some years ago, “I can’t pray anymore.” I responded, “then let us pray for and with you.” Such is the work, the liturgia, the discipline and rhythm of a religious community that is equipped to take visitors under its wing and through holy hospitality carry pilgrims and visitors forward in God’s care.

One who knew the value of religious orders (most especially the Community of the Sisters of the Church, CSC) was the recently deceased Bishop Terry Brown who was found dead early on Easter morning in his apartment in Hamilton, Ontario. I first met Terry at a meeting of the Anglican Consultative Council in Aukland, New Zealand in 2021 as we were both grazing at the cheese and cracker table. He was a Canadian priest, scholar, and eventually a friend. He served as the 4^th Bishop of Malaita, one of the largest dioceses of the Province of Melanesia in Solomon Islands.   

Many here at St. Saviour’s knew Terry well: Richard and Joanne met him while engaged in mission work in the South Pacific. Art More and Marcia Dean likely met him while conducting their own work in Papua New Guinea. Executive Archdeacon Chris Parsons served as a theological student volunteer in mission under Terry’s guidance. I called on Terry many times for information and publications describing climate change effects in the South Pacific.

The Rev. Dr. Alison Kemper of the Diocese of Toronto recently wrote: “I’ve known and admired +Terry for decades. He was a solid historian who brought Anglican communist movements out of the shadows, an anti-colonial missionary bishop, an advocate on queer rights long before almost anyone else. He was quiet and self-effacing, and his humour could slay the powerful and self-important. He will be welcomed into heaven with Christ’s warmest embrace and shown into the long running conversation with Cyril and Marjorie Powles, and Chris Lind.

It was Terry’s announcement on Facebook of the death of Ellie Johnson that caused me to create a blog in her honour, a short essay that quickly evolved into “my little book.” Terry worked under Ellie and experienced missional partnership first-hand. Terry took the picture which adorns the front cover of the book showing Ellie with feet firmly planted, a woman in western dress confident and competent in a cross-cultural environment, a picture taken in a clearing following Terry’s consecration as bishop, a joyful event attended by, literally, thousands of local Anglicans and international visitors.

Terry was an invaluable resource to both Maylanne Maybee and myself. For his own chapter From Partnership to Friendship: How a Canadian Anglican Priest became a Bishop in the South Pacific I asked him to tell how sending a North American priest to be bishop of a global south diocese actually reversed the colonial practice of giving gifts from north to south, from wealthy to impoverished provinces, often with strings attached. This he did brilliantly. Someone asked me the other day whether I will assemble a festschrift in his honour. While an intriguing suggestion, I think that role belongs to a professional church historian. So I demur.

Terry’s story makes an excellent case study in light of Louise Penny’s themes. Returning to the SSJD commentary: “Her novels are not a simple matter of good winning over evil – they are a much deeper exploration into the human heart and the ambiguity of good and evil in our world. They offer encouragement and hope.”

(I suspect that when you and I) are discouraged by the violence of our world, (we can remember) Armand Gamache and the four principles he teaches his new recruits in the Sureté Québec:

“I don’t know.”
“I was wrong.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I need help.”