Doing the Lambeth Walk

It's Lambeth Conference time again. Hundreds of Church of England bishops from all over the world have descended on Canterbury to spend two weeks doing holy things. Which is nice. They only get together once every ten years, so naturally they have lots of work to do and things to talk about.

The huge rifts that have opened up in the Established Church over women and gay priests have been receiving a lot of national media coverage. Faced with such a monumental news story on its doorstep, our BBC local news team initially showed a rare degree of insight, screening an interview with controversial gay cleric Gene Robinson on their flagship teatime television show "South East Today" when he was due to preach in Ashford (he has been pointedly excluded from the Lambeth Conference proper). However this week they returned to their usual stance of trying not to make waves. Evidently they shocked even themselves with their previous attempt at edgy topicality and they promptly ran back to the safe, warm, cuddly womb of bland vanilla news for the masses. Imagine the editorial meeting: Lambeth Conference is happening, it's the eve of a huge priestly protest about world poverty in London and the air around Canterbury is heady with religious debate - what angle shall we take on reporting this story? I know - let's do a report on bishops wives doing daily outdoor aerobics!

I really have no right to abandon myself to such unbecoming cynicism because the sad fact of the matter is that for me Lambeth Conference represents a series of funny memories and quirky episodes rather than anything deeply religious or political. The conference ten years ago was held (as it is once more in 2008) at the University of Kent, perched high on a hill above the city of Canterbury. Back then I was a young undergraduate there, about to enter my final year, with a summer job on campus. I remember the bishops descending on us, swarming around the bars and lecture theatres in a host of colourful robes and with very large crosses around their necks. Staff in the computing lab set up a "bishop cam" on one of the main thoroughfares and encouraged people to engage in bishop spotting on the internet. Looking back it seems like an utterly surreal experience, with us remaining students and academics set adrift in a sea of holy men.

I don't recall seeing any bishops or their spouses doing their daily physical jerks on the lawn outside the Physics lab, as they were on the local news programme, but I do remember that before the bishops turned up many, many hundreds of portaloos arrived. They seemed to be set up in every available space around the large university site. These were not just portaloos of the "bog standard" variety. They claimed to be "luxury" or "premium" lavatorial facilities. Intrigued by this I thought I might investigate them on one occasion when taken short as I walked across campus. I excitedly climbed the steps up to the loo, looking forward to spending a penny in style, only to beat a hasty retreat when I heard emanating from within the cabin what I can only describe as "holy muzak". These loos were equipped with some sort of sound system that played soothing choral music to the occupants. Deciding that they obviously weren't for use by the likes of me, I left to go elsewhere. As I recounted the tale to the (agnostic) boyfriend, he nodded sagely and said: "Ah, that's what happens when you're a bishop. You go to the loo and choirs of heavenly angels start to sing - it's how you know you've got a calling." I must make haste and phone the local BBC newsroom about that - a decade old tale mixing religion with toilet humour may be too much for them to resist.

Lambeth Conference 2008
Lambeth Conference 1998 - contains a link to the old bishop cam, but unfortunately it's now been taken down. The conference this year does however have an official cartoonist, who has a "tent cam" and a blog.