Since setting up shop as the local minister, Right On Rev has become quite a hit: handsome, erudite, prone to spontaneous outbursts of song and laughter, his Irish charm equalled only by his other essential East of Islington quality - he doesn't really believe in God. Tucked away in a discreet turning, his Unitarian chapel provides solace for liberal nonconformists in search of a good tune followed by a decent cappuccino. And on high days and holidays, or simply when he is in the mood, the entire congregation is encouraged to take up a pew in the local hostelry.
In this way, he has made quite a reputation for himself: the people's preacher, for people who don't really want to be preached to. His repertoire is inclusive, non-judgemental and customer-friendly: alternative weddings, non-religious baptisms, eco-funerals, garden blessings, pet deaths and now a Unitarian first - a resurrection ! !
Like all strange happenings, it came in the middle of the night. Peacefully asleep in his modest harbour above the church, Right On Rev was woken by the dramatic sound of banging on the vestry door. Pausing only to cover his modesty, he dashed downstairs to answer the call. Outside stood three waiters from the nearby Turkish grill, distraught and desperate. They needed help, they explained. One of their members had fallen through the roof while trying to dislodge a blockage in the grill's chimney. It didn't look good and the customers were taking it badly. Could he come and say some final soothing words?
Keen not to offend, but at the same time not wanting to take on a job that wasn't really his, Right On Rev took pains to explain that he didn't really do intercessory prayers, the Last Rites, or in fact any kind of pleading with God. His was more of a philosophical position, he wanted them to know. 'And I'm not very good with blood,' he added. 'It's probably a job for the Catholic boys down the road.' But they were adamant. They didn't want the Catholics, they were Muslims, they wanted him. Besides, the Catholics didn't eat in their restaurant and he did. 'You are one of our brothers,' they said persuasively. So finally he relented.
The scene that awaited him was not pleasant. The fall had been dramatic and the poor man was motionless and silent. He and the floor were both covered with the shattered remains of the glass roof panels. An ambulance had been called, but the waiters were right, it wasn't looking good. Declining the offer of a medicinal brandy, Right On Rev assumed the kneeling position and tried to keep his eyes off the red-spattered carpet while he ad-libbed some comforting thoughts appropriate to the occasion. A Sufi mantra, some Tennyson, a line or two from a Cat Stevens song - but mainly he chanted for the medics to come.
It seemed like an eternity, but eventually his prayers were answered. Out of the sky arrived an air ambulance, bright red and sponsored by Virgin. 'I'm Mary,’ said the ambulance woman, without a hint of irony. 'It's OK, we'll take it from here,' she added, prising Right On Rev's hands off the stricken patient.
'What are his chances?' he managed to call after them as they carried the stretcher out. Mary smiled benevolently. 'Miracles can happen,' she replied. 'You should know that.'
Three nights later, the banging on the door happened again. Right On Rev hurried to answer it, barely believing that disaster could strike twice in one week.
Outside were the three Turkish waiters, but this time they were sporting wide grins. 'Praise be, brother,' they said to him, 'you have brought him back to life, and every week we shall always honour you with these gifts,' handing over two crates of beer and 400 packets of black tobacco.
It seemed too good to be true, but apparently, after only a couple of days in the hospital, the motionless man had got out of bed and walked outside for a smoke. 'He was dead, and now he is alive,' they added. Their faith was touching, but somehow, on his new diet of two crates of beer and 400 fags a week, the freshly elected resurrector didn't think he was going to be quite so lucky.

Reprinted from “THE OLDIE” – January 2005

have you guessed ? - the “Right On Rev” is Cathal Courtny