This Quiet Revival thing is real you know. At least, it feels real around here.
For a number of years, I’ve been aware that young adults now seem to have different attitudes to religion to young adults of perhaps 20 years ago. Specifically, young adults of today do not seem as negative towards religion, and particularly organised religion, as their predecessors did. It has always been the case that there has been a minority of people interested in churchy things and a larger minority of people who would be prepared to acknowledge that they were interested in things that might broadly be termed spirituality. However there seems to me to be more younger people around these days who are explicitly looking for a different narrative to live by. And they are asking big questions.
I think there have been signs of the Quiet Revival for a while – quite a while actually. But it is getting more obvious to more people and showing up now in significant pieces of research.
I think about my ministry not so much in terms of the number of years that I’ve been in the job that I’m currently in but in terms of the colleagues that I have worked with.
About 10 years ago, I worked with a Vice Provost, who devised a programme for those enquiring about the faith which was called The God Factor. The fundamental, core feature of the programme was the first meeting of the group, which was a gathering of the questions that the group most wanted answers to. Again and again we ran the programme and again and again we found that people wanted to talk about big themes. They wanted to talk about God. They wanted to talk about salvation. They wanted to talk about theology. And we worked out a number of set piece sessions where we could explore some of these big questions in fun ways in a series of group sessions.
More recently, I worked with a different Vice Provost. Together, he and I were appointed as the Episcopal Chaplains at the University of Glasgow. The pandemic was upon us but still we tried to work out what we might do with higher education students when it was possible to gather together again.
“Oh, it is easy,” I said, “I’ll just get out my guitar again and we’ll order in some pizza and try to gather a wee group”.
You see, I’d done University Chaplaincy twice before in times when it seemed to me that it was difficult to get anyone interested in the church. There always had to be a lot of coffee or a lot of pizza to get anyone to come near.
I could see my colleague’s face fall at my talk of guitars and pizza. He was, after all, so hip that he’d just written a dissertation about hipster religion and he proceeded to tell me the several different ways that I was wrong. He was gentle but determined. I never heard him shout but he may be the only person I know who can speak in capital letters quietly.
“THEY ARE NOT LOOKING FOR THAT ANY MORE” he said.
And I grew to understand from working with him that there was a new interest in the transcendent – the glory and the wonder of worship was suddenly something that people might be curious about.
“So what are we going to do then? High Mass and Evensong?”
“EXACTLY!”
And thus began an interesting and creative period of University Chaplaincy work quite unlike anything I’d done before.
And instead of the half a dozen people I thought we might gather, we found ourselves with a congregation of 40, 60 or even for Ashes and Allegri, a hundred and twentyfold.
Now, I’m working with a new colleague. And the thing that we’re talking about is that younger adults are turning up in greater numbers than they were. We put on a programme for people finding a way into the congregation called A Rough Guide to St Mary’s. We usually put it on a couple of times a year. We’ve just had to run an extra one much sooner than we usually would at this time of year simply because there were people about who needed it. Each time we do it, we get 10 or a dozen folk whose age range is varied, but most will be under thirty and most will not be Anglicans or Episcopalians by tradition. Some will have come from other church backgrounds but some will have come from no obvious church connection previously. And some will come clutching philosophy books that they’ve been reading. Plato and Simone Weil somehow send them here.
Now, I’m long in the tooth and grey of the head so I can’t speak directly for what this feels like to be a young adult. But young adults can’t speak about how young adults have changed either because they were not around before. The truth is, something seems to have been changing over those years.
Yes, we are seeing more young men than we used to. Yes, we are seeing people attracted to quite structured forms of worship. Yes, it feels as though this is growing somehow.
Last year for the first time in our history, St Mary’s Cathedral, Glasgow baptised more adults that children. We’re likely to do the same this year too.
I’m hearing stories like this from other Episcopal churches in the city. I know of one which is putting on unexpected Discovery groups to allow people to talk about the faith. I’m intrigued by this, not least because I’m fairly convinced that the phenomenon that we are seeing has little to do with Diocesan Mission Strategies or Whole Church Mission and Ministry policies or anything like that.
I don’t seem to be hearing about this happening in the Church of Scotland but that may simply be because of the circles that I move in. Whether happening or not, the recent listing for sale, of Culross Abbey, a thirteenth century monastic church that is literally at the start of an up and coming pilgrimage route seems incredible. It seems extraordinarily tone deaf to do this in a world where people are looking for deeply rooted faith connections and where younger Christians are longing for the transcendent.
Based on what I’m listening to though, the wind seems to have changed spiritually, and I’m not surprised at all that this is starting to show up in statistical surveys. The biggest of these is a large piece of work that the Bible Society commissioned about which there has been a lot of online chatter. It is in connection with its findings that the term The Quiet Revival has been used.
I suspect that it will be a while yet before this shows up in denominational statistics – not least because published church stats are often a little out of date by the time they are published and it is hard to see what it going on when some congregations are experiencing a gentle revival and some are still experiencing gentle (and not so gentle) decline.
Round here, the Quiet Revival doesn’t seem to be quite the great resurgence of traditionalism that some conservative voices seem to be excited about – it is happening in churches which are consciously liberal. There does seem to be an attraction to fairly structured worship and carefully thought through philosophy. This simply seems to be a new season where younger people are looking very seriously at faith and making deep commitments. Belief is being taken very seriously indeed. So is religious practice. (And as I’ve said for years, we need to talk more about practice).
The simple reality, is that liturgy is back.
I have a number of questions about the Quiet Revival that I’m trying to think through at the moment and I’d be interested in comments from others.
Are other faiths experiencing something similar – it wouldn’t particularly surprise me if that was true?
If other faiths are experiencing it, which ones are experiencing it? Specifically, is the current yearning for something to live by bringing people more to organised forms of religion, which each have their systems, narratives and beliefs, rather than more do-it-yourself forms of faith which are more about picking what you need from a set of spiritual practices?
Is this longterm, or is it just a flash in the post-pandemic pan?
I see this happening in urban liberal, liturgical churches. But that’s because I’m the Provost of St Mary’s Cathedral in Glasgow. Where else is it happening and what are the common themes?
What new resources do we need to help people to find a Christian way of living in a world which seems so angry, violent and out of control?
47 responses to “Why saying No Thanks is the progressive option”
Richard
Fascinated by the ethnicity/cultural comments so I’ll leave the economics alone for the time being. I’m a mongrel with a bit of Irish, English, Scottish thrown into the mix. I was parachuted into the Highlands from darkest Englandshire as an infant. My initial experiences at primary school were- well, an experience. I was ridiculed. Snowballs contained sharp objects. Someone setting light to ones’s jumper is an unpleasant experience, all the more so when one happens to be wearing it at the time.
Physical attacks- being pinned to the ground and punched in the face until it turns purple while a healthy crowd gathers round chanting “put the boot in!” Which they did. Freely and liberally.
High school would be different. Except on day one each child had to recite- in the music lesson- the poem “It’s a braw, bricht moon licht nicht the nicht”. At the end of the lesson I was thrown fully clothed from a bridge into the River Lossie.
The reason- accent.
Being stubborn, I became a Scots lawyer and devoted most of my spare time working for charities for the hardest pressed in Scottish society. I made lifelong friends with many Scots and am proud to be their friends. Together we climbed all the Munros, enjoyed the history and freedom of open bothies and howffs, and I had the privilege of fishing some of the finest rivers in the world.
The current referendum is a matter for each individual in the voting booth. I am clear and certain that many are motivated by a cultural love of their land and people, justifiably and rightly so. However, I am equally certain that many will be motivated by racism (look no further than the recent visceral response to the BBCs poor journalism, namely where to deposit one’s TV licence). The ballot box isn’t concerned with motives but in the totting up of yeses and nos, but I have lived the experience of racist bullying and I know it’s still there. I still tense up when I hear the “joking banter” of the rugby terraces variety.
It is right and proper that there is a referendum. We are all being asked to face up to a new reality and that is good, whichever way the vote goes. It is, however, important to recognise that there is an underbelly and that it is ugly. Polite society will deny its existence. I can tell you it is very real, and it is very painful.
Yes it’s sad how even the nicest of people are turning spiteful, petty and vindictive, as fear of the promised utopia being snatched from their grasp swells to obliterate their rational minds. Their desire for a more just society in Scotland has been manipulated and exploited ruthlessly and as the feverish excitement rises it’ll be ugly whatever way the vote goes.
It’s a natural matter of psychology that, once people make their minds up, they get more entrenched in their view and only seek evidence to support the adopted position. That some will lack the self-control to keep strength of feeling in check is certainly unfortunate but to a large degree inevitable, sadly.
I’m a Northern Englishman with exclusively Northern English ancestry for at least two centuries, living in Northern England. Whilst I can appreciate so much of the motivation for voting yes, I stand with Kelvin on this. Those of us who live north of the Humber need Scotland to be with us, and not across the border. We well understand that Scottish life (I think of church, law, and education, the three areas with which I have most contact) is distinctive, and we certainly can see all the frustration that arises out of government policy over the last 35 years; but Scotland is part of the solutions to the problems of Britain, and without it, the progressive case for the rest of us seems almost impossible to make. No, of course, I don’t have a vote on this, but I feel that the English elites have not made the case that Scotland’s nearest neighbours would want them to hear. Bravo Kelvin – of course I agree.
I hope you read these comments, that you read this link and that you understand you are buying into the propaganda machine that is Westminster. We can help people through a more socially just and equitable society but that means starting to “eat the elephant” in bite sized chunks. What we can achieve in an iScotland can be a catalyst for change elsewhere in the UK. It’s not about turning our backs, it’s about giving people the confidence to see what can be accomplished successfully…..
I was about 7 when I learned the word ‘lemman’, when another little boy asked me in the playground in Scots if I had a girlfriend. He went to work in a soap factory as he couldn’t anglicise as easily as I could. I went on to gain more degrees than sense and encountered that word again when my sister was studying the Middle English. 300 years of aggressive anglicisation meant that when Scots children used our rich linguistic legacy from sources as diverse as Norman French and the Hanseatic League we were ridiculed not affirmed. That obsessive educational mindset has hardly changed today. The bland ubiquity of the White English middle class discourse exerts a normalising power of erasure of the cultural diversity of the UK. Racism is evil as is all oppression. We are not nasty bairns in some narrowminded kailyard masquerading as a school. We are a people striving to free ourselves from cultural domination. We are sick of charges of racism and tire of repeating ourselves that independence has NOTHING TO DO WITH BEING ANTI-ENGLISH!
Tim if you’re going to quote me (inevitably someone was going to play this victim card) then do so correctly. The last four words in your truncated quote are adjectival. The noun is ‘discourse’. Dominant discourse need not be bland but in its attempted erasure of the diversity of all other discourse, it becomes bland. Why? Because it relies on phatic communication: what is said is not important. What matters is that always and everywhere that voice is on the air.
Critical theorists have identified the same phenomenon with Anglo-American discourses. Why is this news to the thinking people who read and contribute to this blog? Perhaps because naming the historical and continuing English colonial attitude to Scotland is such an inconvenient truth that people prefer to divert this discussion down the rabbithole of utter nonsense.
An example of which is ‘our’ PM pleading ‘heart, mind and soul’ for Scotland not to leave the UK. Thus confusing 1707 with 1603. He doesn’t care about the difference because he doesn’t care about history. What he does care about is power. You’re uncomfortable because I dare to state clearly that there is an abuse of power in the UK and it’s based on class, race, accent, nationality (and all sorts of other categories). The White English middle class, at least those who are complacent in their performance of niceness, are surprised to find that others find their assumptions patronising. And by the way can we all stop using ‘dark’ and ‘black’ as synonyms for evil?
This strategy of excursion from the unanswered issues brought up by Jo, Robin, Derek, Adrian, Christine and Cliff is a bore. Can we stop now? If you’re not going to address them, or even consider them, then read this written by a good friend of mine from Bristol living in Scotland (no it’s not JKR!): http://bellacaledonia.org.uk/2014/09/13/drumchapel-conversations/
Of course most Scots are not anti-English. Of course a significant minority are. Of course this campaign has made more Scots anti-English and some already anti-English and Scotland, especially in rural areas, a harder place to live with an English accent.
But Kelvin’s arguments are not about this, and it would be good to get back to substance. I am an internationalist and do not see how voting for separatist nationalism can possibly be squared with that. We are not a colony. We have direct representation in the national parliament.
While perhaps not decisive on this debate, one factor that should at least be taken into account is the impact this will have on Northern Ireland. What is left of the Union after a “Yes” vote will be unstable. I can’t imagine a de facto English Parliament in Westminster wishing to retain the union with Northern Ireland given the expense and trouble this has caused in the past. Those who may wish to de-stabilise things further in NI might well resort to the tried and tested [and successful, it turns out] means of politically motivated violence. A well placed dissident Republican bomb in England would no doubt encourage the English to say, right enough is enough – you are on your own. There is, in my view, a significant chance that Scottish independence might well lead to the collapse of the Northern Irish political settlement giving rise to a return to violence. Unionists in Northern Ireland will be feeling particularly vulnerable [which rarely leads to good things] and there will some Irish Republicans who will not be able to resist stirring that particular pot to see how things end…
I suspect most Scots won’t consider this their problem but it will be if they have to deal with an influx of Ulster-Scots “refugees” returning home after a 400 year sojourn in Ulster [with tongue only half in cheek].
I visit Scotland regularly, love the country, and see it as the most confident, progressive and beautiful part of the United Kingdom. I would love to live in Scotland. I wish the best for Scotland, whatever the outcome, it will always have a place in my heart. My children will continue to be subjected to Munro-bagging, beaches on Mull and Harris, the National Museum of Scotland and Blackwell’s bookshop on Chambers street!
Kelvin,
You once tweeted at me that [paraphrase] waiting to get everyone to get on-board was the opposite of progressive leadership.
Here, you’re advocating letting a massive opportunity pass by in a desire to improve the lot of a greater majority (with no mechanism for such on the table) – and yet you’re calling this progressive. I’m afraid this does not compute.
Wikipedia: “Progressivism is a broad political philosophy based on the Idea of Progress, which asserts that advances in science, technology, economic development, and social organization can improve the human condition.”
I guess it’s up to each to decide whether the current choice constitutes an advance, but that simply degenerates to affirming your position regardless of whether it’s progressive or not.
I’m still undecided, but I appreciate the postitive, progressive vision for being better together presented here, after growing rather weary of negativity and fear-mongering.
Outside Tesco, across Maryhill Road from McDonalds, along from the Police Station and the JobCentre, about half a mile from St Mary’s and half a world away, a group of YES campaigners and a smaller group of NOs, side by side, shout slogans and laugh and wave banners and flags and cheer passing car drivers honking in support of one or the other. North Kelvinside, the posh part, is content to display some YES and a very few NO stickers – it’s not done here to make a fuss. The scene outside Tesco only sounds raucous to ears unaccustomed to emotional display. What I hear and what I see is that the people of a place often considered a problem are alive to the possibility of making a difference. Their agency is sought after, Prime and First Minister appeal to them. Their vote counts. Whatever the result of tomorrow’s vote, whatever their continuing problems, this experience of agency is part of the solution.
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