• Not in my name. Not in my city.

    Last night I was in the centre of Glasgow to see a film (the brilliant Pride movie) and then to have a drink with a couple of folk from church. This meant passing through George Square a couple of times.

    It was obvious that there was something up – a small group of people had put Union Jacks all around the war memorial and had apparently previously been giving neo-nazi salutes whilst singing God Save the Queen. There are reports of homophobic abuse and abuse aimed at those wearing Yes badges too. It was an ugly reminder that all is not well in this city.

    Most of the time, I don’t see much of the sectarianism that has blighted this city for so many years but this was obviously trouble coming from the loyalist side. (What it means to be loyal to Her Majesty whilst saluting like a Nazi completely escapes me). Last night’s trouble, which was contained well by the police whilst I was there, was opportunistic trouble-making piggy-backing on the referendum issues of the last few days.

    I was sorry to see it and utterly condemn it. There’s no place for violence in a democracy and though Scotland has felt a deeply uncomfortable place to me for the last week, we have been mercifully free from real unrest.

    Such behaviour falls outside what anyone of goodwill would want for our society, whatever any of us voted earlier in the week.

    What was happening last night was unwelcome, unnecessary and completely wrong.

    I hope to see no more.

    Not in my name.

    Not in my city.

24 responses to “Good Vicar, Bad Vicar”

  1. Josh Avatar

    Being a good vicar to stony, unreceptive hearts might require a pickaxe to reveal gemstones within. It must be tough to minister to jerks and meanies, no? We lose faith in people easily – I certainly do. But a good vicar – a loving parent – doesn’t give on up one’s children.

    A good vicar might depend on the eye of the beholder. Whether you believe vicars and congregations are intrinsically good or evil might get you called a Pelagian or an Augustinian depending on who you ask. Faith in the work of a vicar or the reception of the congregation depends on good faith and co-operation – what then do we place our faith in? Hardly Protestant thinking, when faith is dependent on work, manifestation, and epiphany. A bad vicar might be sent to good people. A good vicar might be sent to bad people. Whether a vicar or congregation is subjectively or objectively good is a difficult question to answer.

    It is then that I prefer to see both the vicar and congregation not as “good” or “bad” but rather as equally “beloved”. However large the congregation, or even the vicar’s skill shouldn’t matter then. But that raises the question: Who then do we love if we are so beloved by God? Perhaps love might be the answer. A vicar and congregation who sees and knows themselves as equally and lavishly beloved of God will love each other. Love makes congregations meaningful and precious, no matter how small they might be.

  2. Josh Avatar

    And if I might add to my previous comment – And love also makes vicars meaningful and precious, no matter how small the congregation might be.

  3. Rosemary Hannah Avatar
    Rosemary Hannah

    Yes – things which make the practicalities of small congregations include:
    the laity in most senior positions find it hard to see the inclusive love of God and to see the value of prayer and spiritual exercises, a shortage of laity with administrative abilities, a tiny handful of parishioners prepared to insist on unhelpful things all the time (the oldest liturgies every week, the kind of behaviour small children cannot sustain all service long, particular dress in those at church on Sunday to name but a tiny selection). In a larger church these things can be contained (one nasty comment for lady x outweighed by five or six lovely ones or simply finding somebody to be treasurer who can cope with the job). In a small church, however good the vicar, the nasty comment carries more weight, and the sorting out of the finances may take days of clergy effort. It is always hard to get from a tiny congregation to a large one.

    That said, I have sat through sermons so mind-numbingly boring and inappropriate that I have actually moved to another church.

  4. Paul Waddington Avatar
    Paul Waddington

    If one looks at the larger picture, the Archbishop’s optimism seems misplaced.

    According to the 1851 census, about five million people attended a Church of England service on the census day (a Sunday). The population of England and Wales at the time was about 17 million. These are round figures and I know that there were difficulties with the religious census, but they are good enough to demonstrate my point. Roughly speaking, about 30% of the population attended a CofE that Sunday.

    Recently published figures estimate average Sunday attendance at CofE churches at about 900,000. That is about 2% of the population of England. Wales is now excluded.

    So taking the long view, the trend is rather depressing for the CofE. Compared with 1851, fourteen out of fifteen no longer attend church regularly.

    As an aside, the 1851 census indicated a church attendance for Catholics of about 350,000. That is about 2% of the population. I understand that the current figure is very similar for Mass attendance is also around 900,000 or 2% of the population.

    Other recent research has indicated that the age range of CofE congregations is skewed towards the upper end. Certainly in my local parish, it is unusual to see anyone under the age of 60. I do wonder how many there will be in, say, 15 years time.

    1. Kelvin Avatar

      Thanks Paul – I find that bishops generally tend to accentuate the positive when it comes to thinking about numbers in church. Whether that is because they only go to events that are comparatively well attended or whether it is actually because it is their job to be upbeat about possibilities is not clear to me.

  5. Pam Avatar
    Pam

    It is complicated – ‘good’ and ‘bad’ – poor adjectives. The rector is the leader of the congregation and needs support and trust. But, I think, no longer is the vicar held in such esteem as not to have to earn that support and trust. A good thing, mostly. Churches grow for all sorts of reasons – the level of involvement with non-believers, a prominent noticeboard and outstanding bikke and slice-makers all help.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Previous Posts

  • The Liberal Principle

    There is currently a campaign going on against a ghastly article published yesterday in the Daily Mail which was written by a woman called Jan Moir. Complaints have been made about it to the Press Complaints Commission and it seems to have been the fastest and most complained about article of all time. The PCC…

  • All Time Blog Post Popularity

    Here is the list of the most read bits of this website. Note that the 2 pancake articles when added together still beat the Advent Candle. Note also that on this blog, candles and pancakes are still each more than twice as interesting to my readers than the controversy over The Usual Topic. The Advent…

  • Inclusive Church Roadshow

    If I was not going to be in Glasgow marrying people tomorrow, I’d be in Edinburgh at the Inclusive Church Roadshow at Old St Paul’s. It is a one day conference celebrating inclusion. More details on the OSP website here. The old presumptions that the Scottish Episcopal Church is an open and inclusive church are…

  • Hey, Bishop Mark is blogging

    I hadn’t noticed until I looked at the new Moray, Ross and Caithness website, that Bishop Mark is blogging. read it all here He hasn’t turned commenting on, so you can’t yet leave him a comment telling him how good it is to see him online.