What is in Kelvin's Head?

  • You’ll have had your apocalypse

    So, Mr Harold Camping has died. Do you remember him?  Sure you do. He was one of the most prominent predictors of the end of the world in recent years. There was quite a worldwide sensation in May 2011 when he predicted that all the true believers in the world would  be taken up to heaven – raptured in other words. This would be followed by a pretty grim time for all those left on earth who would have fire, and plague to deal with on their own without the true believers. This would be followed by the end of the world which was scheduled for October 2011. This was the first apocalypse of the twitter generation. The rapture quickly became the #rapture and Mr Camping was mocked, relentlessly mocked all around the world, not least when the end times did not appear. Mr Camping had the media on his side. Well, he had his own media empire on his own side anyway. He appears to have genuinely believed his folly and committed his radio network (Family Radio) to spread the word.

    Well apocalypses and their prophets come and go. One of the things that was interesting about the whole affair was how interested the world suddenly became in eschatology (that’s talking about the end of the world to those who don’t like theological words). With twitter going full pelt, all of a sudden, pretty technical theological words were being bandied about in jokes by the most surprising people.

    Of course, some used the whole thing to mock Christianity. For many detractors we are never going to be seen as anything other than an amalgam of the nutters and Mr Camping became symptomatic of all that seemed silly about religious faith in general and about Christianity in particular.

    It is worth pausing though as Advent makes its tumultuous way into the feast that follows, thinking about what Christians do really believe about all this.

    Firstly – most Christians would say that anyone claiming to know the exact date and time of the end of the world is neither to be believed nor indulged. Jesus himself led the way here saying that no-one knew the day or the hour. However, there is a great presumption in that – which is that there is a date and time for the eschaton in the first place.

    For me, it seems a shame for eschatology to be mixed up in all the cartoon buffoonery of mocking Mr Camping and his followers.

    Talk about the end times in Christianity is not, for me, all about some spooky day and hour that is just around the corner like a great cosmic bogey man. Some Christians, from voices in the new testament like Saul/Paul of Tarsus to Larry Norman appear to have believed precisely that. However, I think that is to miss the point. The apocalypse has failed to materialise often enough for Christians to make their peace with it and use it to inform the life of today.

    Here’s what I think the great stories and images of the bible have to teach people today:

    • Firstly, live as though you’ve not much time left. How much generosity, love, compassion and justice can you build into what you do today.
    • Secondly, life is fragile. Live with gratitude and thanksgiving for what you have.
    • Thirdly, learn the lesson that some sincere, devout, often holy people have got things wrong – even voices that appear in the bible.

    There are building blocks for a great experience of the world in that little list. Building blocks that make faith work and can help one to connect to a God worth knowing.

     

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24 responses to “Good Vicar, Bad Vicar”

  1. Josh Avatar
    Josh

    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.

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  2. Josh Avatar
    Josh

    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.

    Reply
  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.

    Reply
  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.

    Reply
    1. Kelvin Avatar
      Kelvin

      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.

      Reply
  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.

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