Glittering Images

Glittering Images
By Susan Howatch
Rating: 7 of 10

Glittering Images was a page-turner that I was a little embarrassed to be so engrossed in reading.  Susan Howatch tells the story of Charles Asworth, a Church of England priest, who is sent on a spy mission by the Archbishop of Canterbury to uncover any sexual improprieties in the life of the bishop of Starbridge, Alex Jardine.  Along the way Ashworth falls head over heals for Jardine’s wife’s companion, Lyle, experiences several sexual improprieties of his own with one of Jardine’s past flings, Loretta, and has an overall emotional, psychological and spiritual breakdown.  He wades through his current actions and his past history that contributed to those actions with the help of spiritual direction given by a monk, Jonathan Darrow.  While the narrative read at times a little bit like a woman writing the thoughts of men, overall it was a compelling storyline, and Howatch does a good job at delving into the psyche of a clergyman.

If all I was looking for in this novel was a compelling narrative, I’d probably be more than satisfied.  At times I couldn’t put it down.  I had to keep reading to see what would happen next.  But anytime an author sets the narrative in an ecclesial setting and delves into theological issues, I have a hard time ignoring some of the details.

Glittering Images is an example of the triumph of psychological language over theological language.  I don’t have a general problem with psychological language, I was a psychology major in undergraduate, but often times the languages carries with it unexpected baggage that shifts the meaning of the theological understanding.  Let me explain by way of example.

After Ashworth experiences his total breakdown, he is brought to the door of Darrow, his spiritual director, by Loretta, the woman he has just had a sexual encounter with, because he is too drunk to drive himself.  Darrow immediately begins a process of getting Darrow sober enough to do what he needs to do to get back into good graces with God and his vocation as a clergyman.

Once Ashworth is sober, he is ready to confess to Darrow what he has done, do his penance, and receive the sacrament so that he can be in good standing again, but Darrow is not satisfied with a simple recounting of Ashworth’s present sexual sins.  He tells Ashworth, “Your behavior with Loretta can’t be confessed in isolation because such a confession would inevitable be inadequate.  And can you in all conscience receive the sacrament after an inadequate confession of at least one disabling sin?”  At another time Darrow tells Ashworth that they must get at the “mystery behind the mystery.”

The “mystery behind the mystery” ends up being an adequate psychological understanding and explanation of everything in Ashworth’s life that led him to those moments of sexual sin.  EVERYTHING.  His parents.  His schooling.  His vocation.  The men he has worked with.  His marriage.  His wife’s death.  His coping mechanisms with her death.  His sexual sins up to this point.  His relationship with his father.  His father’s relationship with his father.  His father’s relationship with his mother.  His mother’s past relationships.  Jardine’s relationships with women.  Jardine’s relationship with his wife.  Jardine’s relationship with Lyle.  Ashworth’s relationship with Lyle.  Ashworth’s relationship with Jardine.  And on and on and on.

Don’t get me wrong.  I was enthralled with it all.  (Maybe a little too much!  I’ve put the next book on hold at the library.)  I even think that this deep kind of explanation of the sinful brokenness of Ashworth’s relationships and all the relationships around him is a very helpful exercise.  While in college, I did some of this kind of work myself with a counselor and have occasionally revisited some of these kinds of issues since then.  Doing so has been immensely helpful in untangling the brokenness in my own life and cutting out the cycles of sin, but if an adequate explanation of our psychological histories is required for us to confess to a present sin and receive communion, then are we ever fully able to come to the table in good faith?  I fear we are back to feeling unworthy of receiving God’s grace in the body and blood of Jesus, the bread and the wine.  Yes!  We are unworthy!  Thank you, God, for giving it to us anyway!

Perhaps this is a theological quibble that I should ignore, or perhaps this is only a plot device to tell the story Howatch wants to tell, but it has the potential of leaving the reader with the impression that they must be able to explain all the roots of their sin in excessive thoroughness before they can receive communion.  Here’s what I say: Confess what sin you understand now and then receive communion and God’s grace to help you confess more.

Currently Reading/Listening:
The Shack by William P. Young
Following Jesus in a Culture of Fear by Scott Bader-Saye
Documents in Early Christian Thought edited by Wiles and Sante
Generation to Generation by Edwin H. Friedman
Turning Points by Mark Noll
Sacred Parenting by Gary Thomas
From Jesus to Constantine by Bart Ehrman