Chapter 4 - Reverend Ballard
When Lydia finally accepted that her assignment was real, she got down to work right away. She was able to convince herself that being almost completely unfamiliar with the subject matter could actually be an advantage; it meant that she had no personal agenda or biases to interfere with the project. It wasn’t long before she was surprised that she had ever let her own personal discomfort get in the way of a great career opportunity.
A year ago, Lydia had done some of the same kind of research. She scoured recent newspaper and magazine articles, TV and radio interviews, and contacted local resource people. The last time, of course, she presented the relevant pieces to Luke who then got to make the decisions. Sure, the feminism stuff was more interesting, but being in charge of the process had a way of making otherwise uninteresting material a lot more appealing. She initially enjoyed gathering the articles, arranging the interviews, and so on, for the last book. It wasn’t long though before she resented that she couldn’t meet with the prospective authors and she couldn’t control who Luke would interview.
This time around Lydia didn’t mind doing the legwork or reading through unfamiliar subject matter. She had lots of experience doing those administrative tasks, she actually enjoyed organizing things and it was energizing to work without someone looking over her shoulder, so that part of the job was fairly simple. The first phone calls, however, were more difficult. Lydia couldn’t help but worry that people wouldn’t take her seriously. Truth be told, she still wasn’t taking herself seriously at some level, so she couldn’t blame them. Her work experience so far had taught her to expect that she would be overlooked. Because of her age, inexperience, or lack of familiarity with the subject matter, she would understand if people didn’t see her as having credibility. Surprisingly though, everyone was quite friendly despite her concerns. Maybe the prospect of being published was enough to help people overlook those other issues.
The first interview she set up was with an Anglican priest named Reverend Joseph Ballard. He was at the top of the list of names that came in the file Gerald had given her. Not only was she excited to be starting the interviews, but she was also excited because of the location. One of the benefits of her role was that the company would pay any costs related to the interview process. On the phone, Reverend Ballard had suggested a favourite restaurant of his that Lydia had never been to. It sounded expensive, and while she wouldn’t have all of her meetings at this kind of venue, she was going to enjoy this one. After all, she had the company credit card.
She arrived at the restaurant early and immediately began to worry that she was under-dressed. Everything from the elaborate chandelier in the foyer to the water fountain with statues just inside the door to the floral upholstery in the large booth tables made it feel that this was the kind of place you took people to show off how rich you are. If that was the intent, it was certainly working on Lydia, who felt more and more inadequate the longer she stayed. She was quite sure it was going to be a long time before anyone would take her to a place like this again.
“Lydia Phillips, I assume?” asked a man approaching the table. He was wearing a grey sport coat over a blue shirt with a priestly collar. Lydia recognized him from the newspaper articles she had read about him, but he was taller than she expected. Seeing him in person, she could tell by his deep blue eyes and his tall stature that as a younger and slightly thinner man, he would likely have been quite handsome.
She stood up quickly and extended her right hand. “You must be Reverend Ballard.”
He had a very gentle handshake, using both hands, one on either side of hers. But when Lydia was ready to let go, he was still holding on.
“I want to thank you for your phone call,” he said, still gently moving their hands up and down.
Lydia was pulling back gently, hoping to indicate that the handshake was over, but to no avail. She wasn’t claustrophobic but she was starting to feel quite uncomfortable with him still holding her hand and standing so close to her. She could hardly think clearly to continue the conversation.
“And I want to thank you for recommending this restaurant,” she said meekly. “I can’t wait to order!”
“I have some very well-connected friends,” he said humbly as he released her hand. He sat down at the table and added, “I’ve eaten here with some of them from time to time and I’ve quite enjoyed the meals.”
“Were those meals for business or pleasure?”
“It may sound cliché,” he said, looking up from his menu, “but in my line of work, business is almost always pleasure.”
It was the kind of answer she was expecting, but what seemed cliché was for her to be having lunch with a priest. She didn’t know if she should be confessing something or hatching some kind of crooked scheme like she’d seen in the movies.
“How are you today, Reverend?” asked the waitress as she arrived at the table.
Lydia did not know if the waitress was part of his parish or if he was such a regular customer at the restaurant that the other staff would know him too. This friendly but not entirely familiar tone continued as they discussed their orders. Lydia wasn’t sure if they did know each other or if both the priest and the waitress were professionally bound to talk like that.
“First of all,” Reverend Ballard began after the waitress left, “I’d like to say how honoured I am to be a part of this book project again. And I want you to know that I am fully committed to helping make it a success this time around.”
“Well, before you start filling your day planner with book tour dates,” she began, not sure what to make of his confidence, “you should know that there are a number of other potential writers being considered.”
He gave a sort of wry smile and Lydia could tell by looking at his wrinkles that this was the kind of smile he had given often. “Of course,” he said, nodding politely, “I am very familiar with Westminster’s policies.”
“That may be,” she replied, trying to allay some of her own confusion, “but I am not very familiar with you.”
“Oh?” he asked. “Well then, let me tell you a few things.”
“I’d like that,” said Lydia, taking her notepad from her bag.
Reverend Ballard launched into a lengthy explanation of where he had grown up, his family life, where he had gone to school and what positions he had held. With each tidbit of information, he would throw in some life lesson he had learned. Lydia jotted down a few things here and there, but ten minutes later, when his description arrived at the present time, and the waitress arrived with the food, she hadn’t scribbled down any more than would fit in an author’s biography on the back cover of a book.
The food looked and smelled great. Lydia paused politely while Reverend Ballard bowed his head silently for a few moments. When he looked up and noticed she hadn’t prayed, he said, “Oh, perhaps I should have prayed aloud, to include you.”
Not knowing how to respond, Lydia simply smiled, ignored the comment and dipped her spoon into her soup. Her notepad was nearby, but she had hoped the conversation over dinner would be a little lighter, and the formal part could resume after the meal.
“So,” she began, “who is the most famous person you’ve ever eaten with here?” She was asking the question partly for conversation and partly to test his previous claim of having eaten there with important friends.
“I mentioned before that I am quite well connected with local politicians. One time, while I was dining here with a local senator, the national minister of finance joined us. He may not be a celebrity by some standards, but an influential man nonetheless.”
Lydia was about to interject with a story of her own brush with fame when the priest began talking again.
“There was a time when priests and bishops were celebrities. People felt blessed just to see their representatives of God and the church. But now,” he continued, shaking his head, “people assign that divine status, and more, to actors and athletes. Our society worships people who have risen
to fame quickly, but their beauty, talent and fame will fade just as fast.”
Too much more of this and Lydia was going to have to pull her notepad closer. “So when you eat with politicians, do you talk politics or spirituality?”
“Politicians really are a misunderstood group. They are just family men trying through their office to better themselves and their communities. They hold positions of leadership and should be given the respect they deserve. I really consider myself quite fortunate to count many politicians as my friends.”
His answer left Lydia with a puzzled look on her face. Did he meet with female politicians? Did he think that these leaders were succeeding at bettering themselves and their communities? She chewed through more of her meal thinking she might be better off saving the questions until after dessert. She had double-checked the company policy’s fine print to make sure she was allowed to add fancy coffees and dessert to these interview meals.
“It’s funny,” the priest continued, “I am applauded for having friendships with politicians, but we live in a world where they often cannot speak publicly of their friendship with me. It seems that the public and the media call politicians to a level of secrecy, or hypocrisy, that they themselves wouldn’t feel comfortable with.”
Lydia had always preferred that politicians keep their religious beliefs to themselves. “How does this new reality impact the politicians personally?” Lydia asked, rewording her thoughts into the most neutral question possible.
“All of a sudden, the separation of church and state is such a popular concept, but I think most people forget what the union offers. It gives more strength and presence to the church and it gives a moral foundation to the state.”
“Don’t you think it over-burdens the state by giving it extra laws and regulations to enforce?” Lydia asked. She could start to hear her own cynicism coming through her question. To her credit, she was able to restrain herself from asking him to comment on her opinion. She thought that the church was more likely to abuse the strength and presence it received from the state than it was to use it to affect any good in the world. Fortunately, Reverend Ballard had already switched from conversational mode to academic mode, so he was happy to respond to her scepticism.
“For centuries, our educational system has been based on the values of critical analysis. The problem, however, is that most of today’s professors, and almost all of their students, have forgotten that being critical doesn’t have to mean being negative.” As a public speaker, Reverend Ballard made good use of hand gestures and eye contact, but Lydia always felt that he was trying to speak to a larger audience than just her. He began a sweeping motion with his hand. “No matter what idea you present to today’s university students, they will conjure up some kind of worst case scenario and ask about that. In so doing, they throw out the whole idea, and all the good it is capable of, simply because a worst case scenario exists.”
Lydia accepted this as a valid critique of her own argumentative style, but this still hadn’t reassured her about her initial question. He continued defending his ideal church-state model and Lydia grabbed her notepad and began to jot down points. Mostly he presented counter-examples, either from recent history or Bible stories, where the merger of church and state had been positive. None of his examples were able to convince Lydia.
The waitress brought over a complimentary dessert, which was a pleasant surprise for Lydia, partly because it provided some reprieve in the conversation. As soon as the waitress left, the counter-examples continued.
The discussion continued and Lydia wrote down quite a bit of material. No matter what line of questioning she used, the discussion seemed to return to the church-state issue, a topic he was obviously quite passionate and well-informed about, but not the first subject Lydia wanted this book to focus on.
“Well,” she said, turning to a new page in her notebook, “I’d like to wrap things up here, but before I do, I’d like to ask you a few brief summary questions.”
“Fire away,” he said with a smile.
“First,” she began, “what do you think is at the heart of Christianity?”
“For the sake of brevity, I’ll give the sound-bite version. I know how necessary they are in the publishing industry. The most important thing for me as a priest is to reconcile my parishioners to God. The most important thing for them is then to try to live out that reconciliation and participate in it through their religious devotion, partaking of the sacraments, participating in various religious rituals and so on.”
“And finally,” Lydia said, jotting down his answer, “if we choose you to write this book, what sort of people do you think would benefit most by reading it?”
With a very confident look on his face, Reverend Ballard looked at Lydia. “I already have a topic and an outline planned for this book. I would like an opportunity to convince people that church and state can work together. So then, my book would be for anyone who is subject to the church and for anyone who is subject to the state, which I think covers everyone.”
Lydia was digging through her bag for some papers. “You should know that if we select you, then the book outline and even the topic are determined …”
“…in discussion with the development team. Yes, yes, I know.” Reverend Ballard smiled wryly again as he tried reassure her. “As I said, I am quite familiar with Westminster policy.”
“Right,” said Lydia, placing her interview folder on the table, “so then you should know all about these. This one is a standard non-disclosure agreement, saying you’ll keep the contents of these discussions private.”
“I won’t have a problem signing that,” he said.
“And this second one is about a piece of writing I would like to get from you,” she said, bending over to reach far enough across to put the papers in front of him. As she passed the second document to him, she thought to put her hand over her chest.
“You’ll be needing another sample article, I see,” he said. Taking the document in his hand he began skimming it over. “‘A sample of your writing … 500-1,000 words … previously published or newly written …’ Okay, when do you want that by?”
“The deadline is January 25th,” she said. Gerald was coming back on the 28th, a Monday, so that would give Lydia time to assemble everything on the weekend. “You can send it to my email address here,” she said, putting her business card at the edge of the table for him to pick up.
“Well, today is the 9th, so that gives me about a week and a half,” said the priest as he gathered his things together. He extended his hand as he added, “Thank you for this. It was great to meet you.”
Remembering the awkward handshake from before, she reluctantly stretched out her arm in response. “I’m looking forward to reading your sample piece,” she said insincerely.
“Goodbye,” he said when he eventually let go of her hand. This time he had also patted her shoulder, which only added to Lydia’s discomfort.
She gathered her things together, filed away his signed non-disclosure agreement and gave her company credit card to the waitress. “How do you know Reverend Ballard?” Lydia asked as she handed the waitress the signed receipt.
“He’s a big customer here,” she said. “He comes in with some high rollers from time to time.”
“So you don’t know him personally then?”
“I just know that he’s well respected in the city,” she said.
Lydia was hoping for more insight from the waitress or at least a sense that he made other women uncomfortable too.
She walked out of the restaurant excited to have survived her first interview. As she was greeted by the cold, windy winter air, she told herself that the rest would probably be easier. As well prepared as she had been, maybe there was still something missing. She wondered if she could find someone who could help her understand this whole Christian world a little better.
From: Lydia Phillips – Westminster Printers
To: Oscar Brandt
Subjec
t: Reconnecting?
Hi Oscar,
I’m not sure if you are the right Oscar Brandt, so if you have no idea who I am, just ignore this email. Even if you are the guy I’m looking for, you likely don’t remember me, but I was a classmate of yours in high school. I just found your contact info online.
I know this is coming totally out of the blue, but I’m wondering if you might be interested in helping me with something. I work for Westminster Printers, a book publishing company based in downtown Toronto. I’m working on a project, and as odd as it may sound, from what I remember of some of our in-class discussions, you may be able to shed some light on this subject for me. If you’re interested in chatting with me, I’d be happy to hear from you.
Thanks,
Lydia
From: Oscar Brandt
To: Lydia Phillips – Westminster Printers
Subject: Re: Reconnecting?
Yes, of course I remember you, Lydia. Every time I see a Margaret Atwood book I think back to your independent study unit in our Grade 12 English class. Nobody else put as much work into that assignment as you did, and nobody came anywhere close to having as much enthusiasm for their books as you did.
As far as the reconnecting goes, I’d be happy to. I’m also living in Toronto these days, so meeting up would be pretty easy. That being said, I have absolutely no idea what expertise you remember me having that would benefit your work at a publishing company.
Let me know when’s good for you, and we’ll be able to work something out.
OB
From: Lydia Phillips – Westminster Printers
To: Oscar Brandt
Subject: Reconnecting?
Hi Oscar,
That sounds great. Just so you’re clear, I’ve been commissioned to oversee the development of a Christian self-help book. I have a long list of potential authors, but I need to be informed about the issue. I remember you speaking about your faith in class discussions without sounding too preachy most of the time. I need someone like you to clarify a few things for me. This meeting would be more professional than social, but I would like the conversation to be as casual as possible.
Any time this week would be great. Can we meet sometime after 5? Also, let me know if there’s a restaurant downtown that you think would be a good place to meet.
Thanks,
Lydia
From: Oscar Brandt
To: Lydia Phillips – Westminster Printers
Subject: Re: Reconnecting?
Tomorrow at 5:30 would actually be perfect for me. Also, there’s a place called Elgin’s Family Restaurant, which I believe is not too far from your office. I’ve been there a few times and it should serve the purpose quite well.
It sounds like a wonderful project, but I have one minor hesitation. I object to the whole idea of a Christian self-help book. We generally understand step one to becoming a Christian is recognizing that you can’t help yourself and that you need Jesus. I’m happy to write this off as a semantic difference, but it is a point that I thought needed to be made. I look forward to hearing more about this project.
OB
A Pie Plate Pilgrimage Page 6
