A Good Man was There of Religion
Eulogy for The Rt. Rev. Edward L. Salmon, Jr.
Given by The Rt. Rev. and Rt Hon. The Lord George Carey of Clifton, Ph.D., D.D.
103rd Archbishop of Canterbury
The following is the text of the Homily for The Rt. Rev. Edward L. Salmon, Jr. (1934-2016) delivered during the memorial service held at Nashotah House Theological Seminary on September 29, 2016, by Lord Carey of Clifton, retired Archbishop of Canterbury. Bishop Salmon served as bishop of the Diocese of South Carolina (1990-2008) and as dean of Nashotah House (2011-2015), and died June 29, 2016. Dr. Christopher Seitz, professor of biblical interpretation at Toronto School of Theology, said of Bishop Salmon that he was “a generous man who deplored bitterness and courted all sides. He had his principles but refused to make enemies of anyone. This kind of person, a builder and an optimist who enjoyed people, is harder and harder to find. I once rode in his car with him and listened to all the people phoning in to speak with him. A sofa that burned up. An aunt who died. Funeral lessons to be selected. Sam who left his watch at the reception. On it went. I thought, how inefficient. But this was his world, and he was loved for his attention to all and sundry.”
Geoffrey Chaucer’s great book, The Canterbury Tales, narrates certain pilgrims making their way to Canterbury. Among them is a holy Nun, and a Prior. And then Chaucer adds:
“A good man was there of religion / He was a poor COUNTRY PARSON / But rich he was in holy thought and work. / He was a learned man also, a clerk / Who Christ's own gospel truly sought to preach; / Devoutly his parishioners would he teach.…I think there never was a better priest. / He had no thirst for pomp or ceremony, / Nor spiced his conscience and morality, / But Christ's own law, and His apostles' twelve / He taught, but first he followed it himself.”
When I was invited to give this eulogy for Bishop Edward Salmon, directly by the dean but indirectly by Louise, those rich words from Chaucer’s Canterbury Tales leapt into my mind. Of course, there are many priests and bishops who exemplify these words, but our friend Bishop Ed Salmon portrayed them in an amazing fashion. “Learned,” “rich in holy thought and work,” “no thirst for pomp or ceremony . . . But Christ’s own law and his apostles’ twelve He taught, but first he followed it himself.”
Eileen and I met Bishop Ed in 1991, a few months after my appointment as Archbishop of Canterbury. We met him and Louise in their home in Charleston, where he was already exercising a remarkable ministry as Bishop of South Carolina. A warm friendship started then. I found him one of those people you instantly feel at home with. Unpretentious and relaxed, he struck me as a happy Christian leader, comfortable in his own skin and uncomplicated in faith and life. As time went on, I became even more impressed by a man who wore his learning lightly, and whose passion for God and the gospel remained true throughout his long ministry. He had a delightful sense of humour and banter which he shared with all. His clergy trusted him, and the diocese struck me as one of the happiest we had encountered. Father Al Zadig, a good friend and the present Rector of St. Michael’s, Charleston, recounted the many times he would phone his bishop and begin the conversation with: “Bishop, this is Al Zadig calling. How are you doing?” And back would come Ed’s relaxed voice: “I’m great, but then again you know that.”
And then there was the time when Al was struggling with his call to All Saints’ Chevy Chase. He phoned Bishop Ed and said. “Frankly Bishop, I just don't know if I feel called there.” Bishop Ed’s pastoral response was: “Al, there are times when God doesn't care how you feel. Just get on and obey.” Al did, and his ministry was richly blessed.
Wherever Ed Salmon went, God anointed his faithful and effective ministry. After ordination, he very successfully made three small churches in Rogers, Arkansas, into a flourishing parish. Then to St. Paul’s, Fayetteville, for another effective ministry; then a long spell as rector of St. Michael and St. George, in St. Louis, Missouri. Then the unexpected invitation to throw his hat into the ring to become the tenth Bishop of South Carolina and succeeding on the first ballot. In each place, he made his mark through fine exegetical preaching; through care for people; through constant loving attention to detail; through ambition to deepen mission and worship. He loved and respected his clergy, taking time with those who had lost their way and giving space to those who were natural leaders and church pioneers. He was never among those bishops who treated clergy as an inferior caste. There was an irascible bishop in England who rather put down his clergy to the extent that when he died he asked that this verse be read at his funeral: “Tell my priests when I am gone, o’er me to shed no tears; for I shall be no deader then, than they have been for years!”
No, I never heard Bishop Ed speak scornfully of those working with him. He was courteous, generous, and understanding.
“Devoutly his parishioners would he teach . . . Christ's own law, and His apostles' twelve He taught, but first he followed it himself.”
Ed retired in 2008 but almost immediately took on new responsibilities: first, as the interim Dean of Nashotah House Theological Seminary, then to Chevy Chase, Maryland, to become the interim rector of All Saints’ Church. From there, he returned to Nashotah House and became the 19th Dean and President; he retired from that position in January 2015. During his 55 years in ordained ministry, he served on many boards, including Kanuga Camp and Conference Center, which he chaired for a term; Sewanee--The University of the South, where he also served a term as regent; Nashotah House Theological Seminary, where he was chairman for thirteen of his 22 years on the board; and The Anglican Digest, where he was chairman for 41 of his 44 years on the board.
Mark Lawrence, 14th Bishop of South Carolina said of him: “He was a champion of the faith, a tireless church leader whose principled wisdom, sagacious humor, and razor wit were legendary and widely loved by the casual acquaintance as well as by his family and longtime friends.” Another tribute at the time of his death was “his warm and steadfast counsel, which was sought by thousands around the larger Anglican world, will be deeply missed even as his aphorisms will be long remembered."
As Archbishop of Canterbury in the 90’s I recognized Bishop Salmon as one of the great bishops of our Communion, a compelling and deeply respected presence. Yes, he was very troubled by the direction the Episcopal Church was heading, and he voiced those concerns courageously and courteously in House of Bishops meetings. The tone of his contribution was always respectful and without malice, so much so that those who disagreed with him maintained friendship with him. As the national church fractured and splintered into various warring and angry factions, Bishop Ed was among the few who held on to all and refused to excommunicate any. Although he sympathized with and understood why some Episcopalians left the national church to set up rival denominations, that was not for him. Although he never said as much to me, I felt that it was an unspoken assumption that leaving the mother church created as many problems as they solved – but I stand to be corrected.
But let us linger on his remarkable period of office as President and Dean of Nashotah House. To say that Nashotah House was in a parlous state prior to 2011 would be an understatement. Enrollment was in a nosedive, giving had all but dried up, morale was low, and the death of Nashotah House seemed a bleak prospect.
Into this depressing situation, Bishop Edward Salmon arrived on campus in August 2011, along with Louise and several dogs, armed with nothing more than his incredible faith and optimism and that unflappable, anxiety-free leadership style that changed everything. He loved this place – and so did Louise. Of course, the remarkable turn-around was a team event, just as Ed was a team-person. He found waiting for him a great and talented staff team, whose desire matched his own in their determination to continue the high standards of teaching and scholarship that has made Nashotah House an enviable seminary in the Episcopal Church. With his cool, relaxed, and undemanding leadership style, he created around him a remarkable spirit of expectancy and hope. He put to work talented students – like Charleston Wilson – and staff to do things that may have surprised each one of them. With the strong support of the board and staff, he turned the attention of the organization away from itself to its mission in the church and world. His expectation was that Nashotah House still had an unfinished vocation to complete what the great Bishop Kemper had set in motion 140 years earlier. He believed that Nashotah House’s strong, open, Catholic tradition, firm scholarship, and matchless formation of the priestly life was needed desperately in the Episcopal Church.
It is unnecessary for me to detail the changes that then ensued but each one had at its origin a missionary drive. Even though Bishop Edward Salmon died full of years, we lament his passing because we miss his warm presence, his laughter, and his Christ-centred life. He told me how delighted he was when Fr. Peay was appointed to replace him as Dean and President. He was content because he knew the seminary was in good hands with the support of an able staff. And his great message to us today would be to encourage each one of us to support the work here, into which he invested so much love.
Of course, our thoughts and prayers continue to be with Louise and the family, especially for Louise as she mourns the loss of a husband of 44 years. But our friend, Bishop Edward Salmon, Junior, deacon, priest, and bishop, rests in the love and wonder of God, his heavenly Father.
Yes, Chaucer got it right:
“I think there never was a better priest / He had no thirst for pomp or ceremony / Nor spiced his conscience and morality / But Christ's own law, and His apostles' twelve / He taught, but first he followed it himself.”
May he rest in Peace and rise in Glory.
+George Carey
Lord George Carey of Clifton, retired Archbishop of Canterbury (1992-2002), has taught occasional summer courses at Nashotah House as a member of visiting faculty.