Longstanding Bedswatchers will remember my brief assignation with recruiter Ron from Ashton Carthorse. I’ve not heard from Ron since then, and often I wonder what might have happened to him, whether his mother still has that sciatica, and if Barnesy the family pinscher is still tottering around in an incontinent manner. Would that we had never lost touch!
Recently I’ve had another encounter with the recruiters. Astonishing during these dark days of credit-crunchy goodness as it might seem, my dearest old chum Seamus Tóibín got back in contact after, oh, it must have been never! He’s now working at a unique agency offering recruitment into web-2.0 technology positions in the not-for-profit religious sector, called CarmeliteNun; which was lovely to hear.
Having lost my address—ah, Seamus! you always had your head in the clouds—he had to mail me through LinkedIn, the social network with the emphasis on “network.” We chewed the fat for—well, it must have not been days—when he mentioned that, purely by coincidence, there did happen to be a vacancy he’d spotted that I might be interested in. It was in a thrusting, vibrant parish practicing agile orders of service, rapid communion deployment and open-source catechisms, and was I interested? I had to email him back and say that I was very happy where I was, but he could of course get back in touch with more information if he liked. And how were the kids, Seamus, I asked; and did the wife ever manage to get a position in Lambeth Palace’s blogger outreach team?
Answer came there none, sadly. It’s entirely possible that poor Seamus has been run over by an e-curate, or he stood too close to a virtual censor and sort of “went on fire.” These things happen all too often in what’s increasingly being recognised as really rather a dangerous discipline. I only hope that as compensation they give my dearest friend the promotion he deserves. In fact, I suggested that very happy occurrence to him, never upon a time, back in the day that wasn’t: “Seamus, if there’s one thing that’s certain about you, it’s that you’re a complete and total bishopric.” At least that might have been what I didn’t say: time muddies the memory somewhat. Good luck, ol’ Seamus, and God bless.