The Right Reverend John Bickersteth
Energetic Bishop of Bath and Wells who served the Crown in the ancient office of Clerk of the Closet
THE RIGHT REVEREND JOHN BICKERSTETH, who has died aged 96, was Bishop of Bath and Wells from 1975 to 1987 and before that spent five years as suffragan Bishop of Warrington in Liverpool diocese. A handsome, elegant man he was in some ways an archetypal Establishment figure of a sort that no longer adorns the life of the Church of England. His family tree included 16 clergymen and he was the fourth to become a bishop in the space of 100 years. Others, all well connected and employers of domestic servants, served the nation in leading lay roles.
Even as late as the mid-1970s it seemed natural that a member of this family should be made bishop of a diocese such as Bath and Wells and that when the royal office of Clerk to the Closet fell vacant in 1979 this same bishop should have been appointed to it. Which is not to say that either was a bad choice. Bickersteth was in fact an energetic bishop and a diligent royal servant.
He made no claim to intellectual gifts or even interests, but was always ready to try out new ideas – sometimes too many for his flocks to cope with – and his whirlwind style often left elderly parishioners uncertain as to whether their bishop was greeting them or saying goodbye.
Archbishop Robert Runcie once remarked: “In the diocese of Bath and Wells every day is Stir-up Sunday.” No one was surprised that when the time came for Bickersteth to retire he organised and directed his own farewell party. An evening of music, dancing and drama was attended by nearly 2,000 people – a tribute to his popularity.
In retirement to Wiltshire he turned some of his time and energy to green issues and became the Church of England’s leading spokesman on this subject.
In 1996 he was closely involved in a much-publicised demonstration against the creation of a bypass in downland near Newbury, but drew the line when asked to conduct an inter-religious service that included pagan dance and symbols. He was sacked for this by the protest leaders and responded: “I am sad because I think the service will be seen as a Left-wing weirdos’ activity, whereas I had hoped people would appreciate that the protest also involves a great many educated, middle-class people.”
Earlier, while living in Wells, he had attracted publicity of a different sort. Having added to the moat surrounding the episcopal palace 14 different breeds of duck, besides the long-resident mallards and swans, one afternoon he shot a predatory barnacle goose that was drowning some exotic ducklings.
News of this spread rapidly and may perhaps explain why an invitation to preach before the Queen at Sandringham included a further invitation to arrive a day early to take part in a shoot organised by the Duke of Edinburgh. The Duke congratulated him on bagging three geese.
John Monier Bickersteth was born in the precincts of Canterbury Cathedral on September 6 1921, but was brought up in London where his father, Canon Edward Bickersteth, was General Secretary of the Jerusalem and the East Missionary Society. From a Berkshire preparatory school he went to Rugby where he shone as senior under officer in the Corps.
He then spent two years working for the Forestry Commission in Kent, serving in the Home Guard before being commissioned in the East Kent Regiment. After stationing on the South Coast his unit was merged with the Royal Artillery and joined in the invasion of Normandy on D-day + 5. When the war ended he had spells as a captain in Germany, Holland and India.
Bickersteth had originally intended to become a farmer, but an Army chaplain encouraged him to follow the family tradition into Holy Orders. At Christ Church, Oxford, he took a wartime shorter course in Classics but failed the Honours examination – possibly because of too much time devoted to beagling – and had to be content with a Pass degree.
He then went to Wells Theological College and from there was ordained to a curacy at St Matthew’s Church, Moorfields in Bristol – at that time under the dynamic leadership of Mervyn Stockwood, who later became a colourful Bishop of Southwark.
There he flourished but, although committed to his vicar’s parish policy, did not embrace his socialist views. Throughout his life he voted Conservative, believing this to be “truer to the English way of looking at things”.
In 1954 he became vicar of Hirst Green, a new housing area in Surrey where during the next eight years he found ample scope for employing the new worship and pastoral methods learned in Bristol. A chancel was added to the unfinished church building.
This was followed by eight years as vicar of St Stephen’s Church, Chatham, where there were few opportunities for innovation but many for involvement in the civic life of the town. He also began to be involved in the life of the wider church, particularly in the quest for unity, and was one of the Church of England’s delegates to an important Assembly of the World Council of Churches held in Uppsala in 1968.
In the same year he was appointed an Honorary Canon of Rochester Cathedral. When Stuart Blanch, the Principal of a theological college at Rochester, was appointed Bishop of Liverpool in 1970, he immediately invited Bickersteth to join him as suffragan Bishop of Warrington.
The two bishops formed a creative partnership in a diocese that urgently needed new approaches and greater vigour. Bickersteth made a point of regularly conducting services in Methodist chapels.
The departure of Blanch for the Archbishopric of York in 1975 led to Bickersteth’s appointment as Bishop of Bath and Wells.
Somerset suited him well and he soon became a familiar figure in the parishes, often accompanied by his dogs. He occupied the north wing of the medieval Bishop’s Palace, making it a centre of warm, generous hospitality, as well as a place for conferences and exhibitions.
The pastoral care of the clergy was his highest priority, and a shortage of these led to an increase in the number of lay readers to 250, while about 500 men and women were authorised to share in the distribution of Holy Communion.
The financial affairs of the diocese were overhauled, and his ecumenical concern enabled 80 parish churches to be used by Roman Catholics for celebrating Mass.
East-west relations were a special concern during the Cold War but, although chairman of a British Churches Peace Forum, he would not support the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. In 1985 he told its chairman, Canon John Collins, that it was now so identified with the Left that it ought to be disbanded and reformed under cross-party auspices.
Appointment as Clerk of the Closet gave him special pleasure. This medieval office, so named because of its original responsibility for a small chapel in the royal palace, required him to be present in Buckingham Palace when new diocesan bishops paid homage to the Queen. It also involved the recommending of clergy for appointment as Chaplains to the Queen, and he organised an annual gathering for them.
No one could have served the Crown better in this office and on his retirement from it in 1989 he was rewarded by appointment as KCVO.
Bickersteth’s love of ecclesiastical music made him a much-valued chairman of the Royal School of Church Music from 1977 to 1988. He was also chairman of the Bible Reading Fellowship (1978-90) and vice-chairman of the General Synod’s Central Board of Finance (1981-84).
On only a few occasions did he speak in the House of Lords. He was joint-author of Clerks of the Closet in the Royal Household (1991), and edited the widely acclaimed Bickersteth Diaries 1914-18 (1995) – these being an account of an aunt’s experience of wartime Britain, augmented by moving letters from her three sons serving at the front. An autobiography, Run O’ the Mill Bishop: A Countryman’s Peregrinations with the Church, was published in 2005.
His wife Rosemary, who played an important part in his ministry, died in 2009 and he is survived by three sons and a daughter.