Professor Michael Clarke - RIP

I have been fortunate, over the years, to have had many good friends; and I have been honoured, in the course of my duties, to have met some distinguished people. Of Michael, I would say without hesitation that he belongs to that narrow borderland of very distinguished people whom I have been honoured to count as a very good friend. I was privileged to know him, to share something of his last illness-stricken years, to visit him as he was dying, to officiate at his funeral (at the time restricted by Covid regulations) and (at his request) to speak at this service today, when so many more friends and colleagues can come together.

            I first saw and admired Michael at a distance, when I was a newly-elected member of the General Synod of the Church of England, and he one of its leading lights. He was a persuasive speaker, a deft chairman of contentious debates, an accomplished master of standing orders, and, besides all that, a reasonable, conciliatory, middle-way Anglican of a species now rare and possibly endangered.

            What I saw were those gifts of intellect and temperament put at the service of the Church of England, and at the service of countless voluntary organisations, boards, and charities in Worcestershire and Birmingham.  Many of you saw those same gifts deployed in the service of local government and university administration in the course of a long career.

Michael’s activities were manifold, but I think there was a consistency of character and purpose running through them all; and that was what I came to value more than I can say, when I graduated from being a distant admirer to being Michael’s colleague, collaborator, and occasional fellow-conspirator in the life of this Cathedral.

            What I at once discovered on arrival as Dean was the truth of the words of the poem which Joanna will read later in this service. Michael was the kind of person who refused to be told that ‘it couldn’t be done’; the kind of person who encouraged you to believe that no problem was insoluble, and no situation hopeless.  He was a very wise man, but his wisdom was of the applied variety; practical, rather than speculative.  Michael was also a very discreet man, and when he came up with an elegant solution to a problem, you did not always see the working of the sum.  I can only guess how often he steered me away from certain shipwreck without my even knowing.

            If wisdom suggests gravity, and administrative competence suggests dullness, that would be to miss the essential ingredient of humour in Michael’s character. His characteristic smile is there in the picture on the back of your service book, and in the poem which Lucy read earlier.  It is a smile I associate with so many conversations – so many conversations, let me say, conducted in the bar of the Crown & Sandys at Ombersley. This was generally a safe place for conspiracy, except on the occasion when we found half a dozen bishops at the next table, all pretending not to listen.  

Michael took delight in many things: his family, of course; his garden; and music. The support he gave to music in this Cathedral as well as to ballet in Birmingham was outstanding. It is sad that there was only one opportunity for him to chair the Three Choirs Festival in Worcester.  And it is a poignant but a fitting thing that today, 1 July, is Michael’s and Angela’s wedding anniversary; and, to mark that, the day they chose as their endowed ‘day of music’.

Applied wisdom and irrepressible humour marked Michael’s handling of the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee visit to this Cathedral. He was the Deputy Lieutenant responsible for the Cathedral’s part of the day. We had put together a presentation involving young singers, readers, and dancers, and were sad that the very strict schedule enjoined upon us left no time for the Queen to meet them afterwards. It took Michael to pinpoint the precise moment towards the end of the ceremony when I could (forgetfully) usher the Queen in the wrong direction, towards the performers, and (absent-mindedly) introduce them.  It all worked beautifully, but it was Michael’s nerve, not mine, that made it happen.

            His gifts of practical wisdom and irrepressible humour met their greatest challenge when he was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. Here was something for which there was no elegant solution, and nothing much to laugh about. Suffice it to say that what I saw was someone who could still make the best of very little, still laughed, and (at the end) still managed to smile. ‘There’s still time for fun’, he said to me when we first talked about his illness. When people die, we too often talk about their having ‘lost the battle’ with this or that condition or disease; but to my mind there was no defeat about Michael’s death.  

            The author of Ecclesiasticus, from the second century before Christ, paints a picture of the wise man who penetrates subtleties, knows his way around enigmas, whose learning is apparent in his teaching, and whose intelligence will not be forgotten; one who goes to his long rest, leaving a name and a reputation behind him. But equally, says Ecclesiasticus, the wise man rises early to seek the Lord, and to give thanks to God in prayer. For Michael’s combination of worldly wisdom and Christian devotion, intelligence and humour, we too give thanks to God, for we are all the richer for having known him.    

PETER ATKINSON

Dean of Worcester

Preached at Worcester Cathedral on Friday 1 July 2022.

© Peter Atkinson 2022.

My father died on 23 December, just before Christmas. The last years had been tough. We watched as his mobility and faculties left him - and the burden on my mother increased. But in the days following his death, one of the neighbours whose friendship and assistance has been so important said that “we could have him back now”. And that is what the last few months have allowed and so many of you have helped by sharing your reflections on his life.

Bapa – as he has been to the family since granddaughter Emily arrived – would have been 78 this past May. He was born to Rex and Marjorie in 1944, followed two years later by Peter and they grew up in vicarages in the diocese of Wakefield. By all accounts, Michael-the-child sounds familiar to those who knew him later. He was an early organiser, particularly of his cousins, who would remain important to him throughout his life.

He went to Queen Elizabeth Grammar School Wakefield, where he became head boy and while in the sixth form met Angela, at a joint event with Wakefield Girls High School. They married in 1967 and they went on to have Joanna, Lucy and then me.

He read Politics and Sociology as one of the new University of Sussex’s third intake and here there was a surprise for anyone who knew him at any point: he became chair of the university’s golf club. He has never played, before or since, but the club needed sorting out and feelings were running high. He was asked to step in.

Michael took a masters and then went on to be a research student at Essex. Angela and he set up their first home just north of Colchester. It is where he established his first garden. He had grown up in houses full of flowers. His would be too.

Part way through his doctorate – he never finished it – Michael and Angela moved to Edinburgh, where he became a lecturer in British Politics. 

Wearing a purple tie sewn by Angela, Michael co-presented BBC Scotland election coverage, including for both general elections in 1974. He was asked to move to BBC Scotland full time but said no.

In 1975, teacher became practitioner when Michael moved to become Deputy Director of Policy Planning for the new Lothian Region.

These were twelve happy years in Edinburgh. Angela and Michael made many long-lasting friends, including in the congregation of St John’s, Princes Street, where he became warden and reader.

A somewhat speculative job application saw the five of us move to Harpenden in Hertfordshire. Michael was, first, director of the Local Government Training Board and then, when it and several other organisations merged, the Local Government Management Board. In these roles, Michael became a leadership figure in the field and built a network among elected members, and senior local authority staff and civil servants. A national newspaper at the time referred to him as “one of the best liked and most respected figures in local government.”

The move from Edinburgh had been a wrench. But Michael and Angela soon built a life in Harpenden, around St Nicholas Church and St Nicholas and St Georges Schools, where mum and he chaired the governors respectively and which we three children attended. Michael acted as a reader at St Nick’s and was again warden. It was in Harpenden that he first entered Diocesan and General Synods. Free time, when it happened, was in the garden and father-child activities tended to revolve around garden centres, trips to the dump or saw us on the wrong end of the skills of delegation of which he was so proud.

In 1993, after another 12 years, we moved to Worcester and Michael to the University of Birmingham. Through his roles there – as professor of public policy, pro-vice chancellor and then deputy to the vice chancellor – and during his nearly 30 years living in this city, several threads of his life were able to thicken and intertwine: his faith, his sense of service to his communities, his interest in music and the Arts and, in all, what he called his “irrepressible interest in people and institutions and the way they interact.”

At this stage of his life, it would be possible to become quite list like. Dad was involved in an extraordinary array of activities.

This Cathedral and those who serve in and worship at it, were of tremendous importance. He was a long-time member of the congregation; he became a lay canon and chair of the Cathedral Council.

His role at Birmingham allowed him to remain active in the field of local government – for which he was awarded CBE in 1999 – to shape the university and develop its international links and pursue a variety of his interests. He also chaired the West Midlands Technology Corridor, though he himself didn't use a computer until retirement. He was awarded honorary degrees from the Universities of Birmingham, Aston and Worcester.  One of his proudest achievements – what he said he would like to be remembered for – was saving the University of Birmingham’s Winterbourne House and Garden. 

He became more deeply involved with the arts through roles as trustee of the Ikon Gallery and Barber Institute in Birmingham. On retirement from the University, he took on the role of chairman of the Birmingham Royal Ballet. The appointment was, to him, a wonderful surprise. His involvement with the company was demanding, as funding for the Arts became increasingly difficult, but watching the ballet and touring with them remained a source of constant delight and pride.

He was a Deputy Lieutenant of the County. Here in Worcester, he was president of Civic Society, and chaired Visit Worcester. He was involved in the Elgar Birthplace Trust, a governor of King’s School and of the University. In 2017 he was an enthusiastic and successful chair of the Worcester Three Choirs Festival, despite encroaching illness.

Michael had returned to General Synod for the Diocese of Worcester and became part of its panel of chairs. He was asked to moderate some of its more complicated debates, including that on the appointment of women bishops. Understanding of procedure, humour and empathy allowed him to ease tension and moderate tempers. He was a member and then chaired the Church’s Dioceses Commission and played a leading role in the creation of the Diocese of Leeds, a return home, although not everyone in the parishes of his childhood welcomed the proposals. In recognition of his contribution to the church, the Archbishop of Canterbury awarded him the Canterbury Cross in 2018.

It was during Michael and Angela’s time in Worcester that grandchildren arrived: Emily in 1995, the other 7 over the next 22 years. It was a joy to see how important they became to him and how proud he was of them. For each, a rite of passage was being pursued by Bapa on hands and knees around the kitchen island. That, and the pleasure in sharing a joke that caused him to turn pink and shake with silent laughter will be among my fondest memories.

I will try to forget his willingness to dress up – or as my mother revealingly put it – to be dressed up. It appealed to their sense of fun. 

For all that he did and achieved it was, of course, how he was that mattered. I am struck that so many of you have written to say common things: he was a giver of counsel and a guide, you admired his interest in and understanding of people, you appreciated his generosity – particularly with his time – his warmth and his kindness.

He enjoyed intrigue, disliked pomposity and gently poked fun – each causing his eyes to twinkle. He rose above angst and tension. He connected people. He found ways through. Always with humility.

He’s now moved on.

I don’t know if there are institutional rivalries and personal politics in heaven but – if there are – he’ll be waiting ready to tell us, make fun and help us navigate them.

This tribute was given by Tom Clarke at Michael's Thanksgiving service on July 1 2022. 

The whole service was streamed and can be viewed and downloaded by clicking here.

Please note that the Thanksgiving Service itself begins around 6-7 minutes into the recording.