As a retired newspaperman, it’s seldom that something in our daily print media makes my jaw drop. There, on the front page was a large colour picture of rainwater flowing down through the termite-infested roof of the Cathedral of St Michael and All Angels, the flagship of the Anglican Church in Barbados.
As the water was running in, the headline was crying: Time Running Out For Cathedral.
It must have been an embarrassing moment for the affable Dean Frank Marshall and indeed, the entire Anglican community, that this was happening in the presence of the Governor General, Sir Elliott Belgrave and Lady Belgrave, as well as the Minister of Labour, Dr Esther Byer-Suckoo.
An entire section of the ground floor could not be occupied.
The news item reported: “After just a few short minutes of rain, the entire southern wing of the building was flooded as water cascaded down from the roof, through the upper flooring, to fall and collect on the ground floor of the Cathedral.”
The Labour Minister said: “I want to see St Michael’s Cathedral refurbished completely. What I am seeing here today is certainly evidence of the fact that we don’t have a lot of time anymore. We have to act swiftly because if we don’t, we can lose this very precious treasure.”
How could this happen? I wondered, even though I was aware that the decline has been under way for several years. For some time now, the chancel – that eastern section that houses the high altar and the choir stalls – has been partitioned by a doleful black wall of fabric indicating, sadly, that that area is out of bounds.
St Michael’s Cathedral occupies a special place in my memory. As a small boy I attended Sunday School with teachers like Ms Holder and Ms Estwick, and eagerly looked forward to the annual excursion to some then remote part of the island. At seven, I had a bit part in a play at the long gone Church House on St Michael’s Row opposite.
I regularly regale my friends with the way my mother dressed me, at age nine, on my day of Confirmation by Bishop James Hughes.
Sorry this column doesn’t allow pictures. I wore white – white shirt, white pants, white jacket, white socks, white shoes, white tie, white belt, white underwear. There was a white handkerchief in my pocket and I carried a white hymn book. The only thing not white on me that morning was my skin.
I walked from my home just off Belmont Road and on arriving at Queen’s Park’s eastern gate – the Governor’s Gate – a watchman on his way home in Hall’s Road after a night’s work in Bridgetown, said to me, most sympathetically: “Li’l fella, yuh like yuh fall-in a barrel o’ milk.”
At a time when Bridgetown is basking in the heritage accolade bestowed by UNESCO, the Cathedral joins a list of other run-down buildings such as the Empire Theatre, the Carnegie Public Library, Queen’s Park House and the Daphne Joseph-Hackett Theatre.
It was interesting to read – not for the first time – that restoration is on the way, but it’s going to cost large sums of money; which brings me to an observation I made in a letter to the editor 14 years ago, captioned: Down-sizing The Anglican Church. I wrote:
There are over 40 Anglican churches across our small island, with 12 in the parish of St Michael alone. In that parish are St Michael’s Cathedral, St Mary’s, St Cyprian’s, St Paul’s, All Souls, St Ambrose, St Barnabas, St Matthew’s, St Stephen’s, St Leonard’s, the Church Of The Resurrection and the recently-built Church Of Christ The King.
Each of the other ten parishes has two or more churches. My reflection switches to sugar factories. There was a time in Barbados when our sugar industry produced over 200 000 tonnes every crop . . . and there were several factories producing that sugar.
I recall Bulkeley, Lower Estate, Belle, Constant, Hanson, Harrow, Searles, Carrington, Four Square, Three Houses, Colleton, Kendal, Lemon Arbor, Uplands, Guinea, Andrew’s, Mount Wilton, Vaucluse, Haggatt’s, Applewhaite’s, Warren’s, Sandy Lane, Hayman’s, Porter’s and Spring Hall.
Then, things changed, and the sugar industry had no option but to down-size.
(Today, only two factories survive – Andrew’s and Portvale – producing just under 18 000 tonnes. Last week we heard that Andrew’s would close temporarily for two years to reopen in 2016 as a “multi-purpose” factory.)
It seems to me that the Anglican Church will have to down-size too. There is no way that its dwindling reserves (and manpower) can sustain so many churches, rectories and other properties.
The church, sadly, and with some loss of pride no doubt, will have to reduce the number of its buildings and sell off some of its property, if it is going to survive into the new millennium. Settle for five or six in St Michael, and only the parish church in the other ten parishes, making a more manageable total of 15 or 16.
The economic imperatives and the social and religious shifts in our society will force this reality on the Anglican Church. It’s going to take a little more than prayer.
Anglicans are asset-rich but cash-poor.
Recently, the Central Bank has tastefully restored the nearby Masonic Lodge. I don’t think it’s asking too much of the Central Bank to design a grant or loan to save the Cathedral from further decay and embarrassment. It would enhance the aesthetics of the district known since 1986 as Cathedral Plaza.
A dilapidated Cathedral is an ugly reflection on its neighbour, the Central Bank.
Since the 17th century, St Michael’s Cathedral has lived a Phoenix-like history. I hope it can rise again in the 21st.
• Carl Moore was the first Editor of THE NATION and is a social commentator.