In Memoriam: Helen Vicary Mann

My self-proclaimed ‘most favourite customer,’
constant supporter of OC Books.

As one who knew you best through your passion for books,
I find the list of your other passions intriguing:
wine, chocolate, Pilates, makeovers, opera, French perfume. 

And how did I never hear about Malawi,
the Mothers Union, amoebic dysentery,
the construction of pit privies,
the expertise on flute and piano? 

I heard all about Celtic Christianity –
you may have been first to bring it
to my attention. And Lampeter, a place in
Wales that might have been on the moon. 

Then there was Pelagius, whom you
considered much underrated in the
sainthood department; we may have debated it.
You had no time for his bête noire, Augustine.
When a young student used the word Pelagian
in one of his doctoral essays, you bristled:
he’d leaned towards the concept that
Pelagius was a heretic – the very idea! 

And, of course, having been the first woman priest
to be ordained, by the first woman bishop
not only in New Zealand, but also in the world,
you bristled at the notion of women as
lesser creatures, a thought that flitted – then fled - across the minds
of those male priests who regarded women priests –
let alone women bishops – as somehow opposed to nature,
opposed to God Himself. Sorry, Herself. 

Is there some irony in the fact that your middle name was
Vicary, you vicar at Holy Cross, at Palmerston, at Hampden?
Was it your small stature that made you more aware of those
creatures who attended your Cathedral-based Pet Services,
barking heart-stopping barks, or flittering in cages,
on hands, searching perhaps for St Francis?
The line in your obituary, she always had an eye for the
underdog, says maybe more than the writer intended. 

The last time we saw you, blown by a breeze in
King Edward St, wanting to chat (as always),
the yellow tinge in your skin, your
Trinitarian cancer alive and well,
dragging you step after step towards death,
we ached at the change.   

Helene,

may the saints and angels enliven your steps in the life beyond;
may the dogs who preceded you revel anew in your presence;
may you find Pelagius and Augustine at peace;
may you accompany on your flute wild Celtic songs sung by
wild Celtic saints, the fingers that once gained you a place in a
Norwegian orchestra flexing anew as they race beyond mere
human agility.

 

 

4.6.12

I was manager of the Christian bookshop, OC Books; Helene (pronounced Helen) was one of its most supportive customers. 

Lampeter is a town in Wales.