What is in Kelvin's Head?

  • Herald Article: Pride and Frustration

    This article appeared in the Herald newspaper today.

    I will be joining the Pride Glasgow march this weekend with mixed feelings – pride at how much has been achieved and concern at how much that needs to be done.

    I’ll be marching with hopes high that before Pride comes around next year, the Scottish Parliament will have passed new laws to allow same-sex couples to marry. Marriage law is one of the greatest barriers to equality for gay people in Scotland. Access to marriage isn’t the only big change gay people need. However, it remains such a big prize for gay campaigners because those marching through Glasgow all know how much social attitudes have softened since civil partnerships came in and all hope for even more once same-sex marriage is part of our common life.

    Changes to the law are hugely welcome, but still don’t represent equality – just ask any gay couple wanting to get married in church on the same basis as the straight couple sitting in the pew next to them. The overly cautious legislation that will be passed next year is a consequence of politicians still giving credence to religious voices of intolerance.

    Another issue that still needs a lot of work is access to education free from prejudice. It means education authorities and individual schools working on homophobic bullying. Part of the means of achieving that is to ensure that gay teachers in schools are able to be the role models that both gay and straight kids need. Those teachers need to know that they can live outside school time without fear of what might happen in school if their relationships are known about.

    Notwithstanding the high spirits that are a feature of every Pride march, I’ll be marching to express a good dose of anger and frustration. Every Pride is a celebration but every Pride is a protest too. This time the most immediate part of the world which is causing concern is Russia. President Putin’s sudden recent crackdown against lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender (LGBT) people has been brutal, unexpected and frightening and greatly under-reported in the mainstream media in the UK. Glasgow’s Lord Provost’s letter to her opposite number in twinned Rostov-on-Don this week is welcome but far too weak. She has invited a delegation from Russia to “share more of our good experience of working to include LGBT citizens as a valued part of our city”. Meanwhile, Glasgow’s actual LGBT citizens might be rather puzzled, given the history and demise of the LGBT centre in the city, as to how that support is being expressed.

    This weekend at Pride, I’ll be marching, as usual, with thousands of others. This time, though, I’ll be marching with members of my own congregation. There will be several older members coming along to march in support of their gay and lesbian children and grandchildren. I’ll be marching alongside a couple whose civil partnership I’ll be blessing in a couple of weeks as they make their journey towards legal marriage. Alongside me there will be clergy from my own Scottish Episcopal Church and ecumenical friends in the crowd in clerical-collars answering all the usual questions that arise about how to find a church that is open, inclusive and welcoming to all. I’ll also be walking alongside a young straight couple who have told me they want to bring their toddler, a member of the Young Church at St Mary’s Cathedral. They want to be able to tell him he was at Pride the year of the legislation allowing gay and lesbian couples to marry. My earliest memory is of being woken by my parents to see the moon landings. These days, for some parents bringing up children, equalizing the law on marriage is the equivalent kind of life defining moment.

    And I’ll be marching with LGBT folk from my congregation too; people who work and struggle and pray for justice in the church and beyond. I march this year because I’m immensely proud of them all.

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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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