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He was physically strong and worked hard; able to speak at length in the House of Lords after midnight, between two full days in his diocese. His memory for people, entertaining humour and sheer energy won him the admiration and friendship of an exceptional number of lay people and clergy.
Say was a valued supporter of Kent County Cricket Club, the University of Kent at Canterbury, the city of Rochester, Chatham and, more recently, Canterbury itself. He was deeply respected, often by non-churchgoers. His final words at his retirement service were uttered on many other occasions, always with a firm penetrating smile: “Alleluia — on we go”.
Richard David Say was born in 1914, the son of Commander Richard Say, RNVR. He inherited from his naval family home a sense of confident leadership. He loved London and Britain’s national institutions, which he once listed while preaching at Westerham, Churchill’s home: “The Throne, the Church, Parliament, the press and Sir Winston Churchill.”
After University College School, Christ’s College, Cambridge (under the charismatic Charles Raven), and Ridley Hall, he was ordained in 1939, serving first at Croydon Parish Church and afterwards at St Martin’s in the Fields. After holding the posts of secretary of the Church of England Youth Council and general secretary of the British Council of Churches, he became in 1955 rector of Hatfield and so chaplain to the Marquess of Salisbury, where his political instincts were sharpened.
As a conscious disciple of William Temple and a close supporter of Bishop George Bell, Say was among the Anglican representatives at the World Council of Churches conferences.
His years at Rochester, 1961-88, and in the Lords, 1969-88, were a joy to him. He was popular in the Lords for his hospitality, good humour, and willingness to be laughed at.
He appreciated radicals (though not one himself) and always regretted that the House of Commons did not elect Tony Benn as Speaker — he felt sure this would have raised the national spirit. He understood the need for good relations between Parliament and the public.
Say believed that the starkest danger to all the churches, including the Church of England, was over-concentration “on laundering our surplices” while Christians’ true mission was service from Corrymeela to Calcutta, “washing the world’s feet”. This was often on the agenda of Parliament, but not at ecclesiastical gatherings. He believed that Establishment could be used to bring reality into the minds of Christians.
For some years he deputised for the Archbishop of Canterbury as chairman of the board of governors of the Church Commissioners, when Douglas Lovelock was in charge. These were unfortunate times. Anglican support for the imprisoned Nelson Mandela, led by Desmond Tutu, Trevor Huddleston, the Bishop of Oxford and Lord Sudbury, was ignored even when argued in the High Court. Policies were begun which led to the loss of £800 million in dubious property adventures. In this post Say appeared too much of an Erastian establishment man.
However, he never ceased to listen to the prophetic voices of young lay Anglicans in Church House on other social issues and was not beguiled, as were some of his colleagues, into Vatican attitudes on family planning, divorce and anti-feminist stances. He shared with young Anglicans the belief, in his own words, that “God is the God of the future as well as of the past”. His early work with young people remained in his character in tension with his traditionalism. He stood with John XXIII, not John Paul II.
His skill as a behind-the-scenes operator twinkled in his House of Lords speech in 1986 on the admission of women into Holy Orders as deacons. His diplomatic caution, anxiety not to offend the traditionalists and distinct belief that what would suit some would not suit others prevented him from mentioning that women were already serving as bishops and priests in other parts of the Anglican Communion.
His lengthy speeches in the General Synod on behalf of Anglican-Methodist reunion and new permission for divorcees to be married in church (1983) were defeated by the ultra- cautious, some of whom were to become Roman Catholics.
His own brilliantly administered diocese was never short of ordinands. He began long before others a more caring level of stipends. However, perhaps towards the end of his 27 years, a tired traditionalism prevented him from recognising the crises — credal, interfaith and financial — which would befall all the churches, Anglican, Free and Roman, in the next century.
Say was one of the last bishops not required to retire at 70, and was Bishop of Rochester until his 74th year. Even then he continued to lead a very active life well into his retirement, particularly in his close association with Canterbury Cathedral. His friends, of all generations, remember him with gratitude.
He delighted in the intricacies of institutions, their oddities and traditions. He was an alert royalist and for 18 years High Almoner to the Queen. His funeral addresses were masterpieces of sympathetic research — how Lord Astor of Hever spoke of trees as if they were old friends and Sir Desmond Heap, solicitor to the Corporation of London, wrote a rubric for his Thanksgiving: “Keep the service going — no silent gaps.”
In his last years he also collected together his sermons and addresses, which he published privately.
Say would frequently chide the faint-hearted that they believed that the primary purpose of Holy Orders was the maintenance of an ecclesiastical ghetto. As a curate he was remembered as bounding up the steps of St Martin’s-in-the-Fields pulpit to proclaim God’s adventurousness.
Say was always spotting moments of joy — Kent cricket, his supportive and affectionate family and the superlative roses grown by Irene, his gifted JP wife. She predeceased him in 2003. He is survived by their son and two daughters
The Right Rev David Say, Bishop of Rochester, 1961-88, KCVO, was born on October 4, 1914. He died on September 15, 2006, aged 91.