What is in Kelvin's Head?

Generation Self

12/03/2013

There’s a fascinating piece in the Guardian this morning about Generation Self – that’s the name being given to those who are around the age of 20 at the moment.

It seems to some pollsters that as they enquire about the values that people who are that age hold they are being surprised at how much more right wing they seem to be than previous generations.

It seems to me that there may be something in the analysis. I’m the generation that doesn’t really know his neighbours. Those younger than me seem to be those who really don’t want to know their physical neighbours. I can’t imagine voting for a party who say they want to crack down on welfare spending in order to give me tax cuts but it now seems to be a respectable thing to say and something which seemingly “respectable” people advocate. Activism has become signing an on-line petition rather than joining with other people to get other people to help change the world.

I remember being shocked at the last election by the number of young gay men I know who said that they were voting Tory and who seemed to think it was obvious that they should do so.

“But, but, but… Section 28, Mrs T, solidarity!” I cried to no avail.

If there is something in this Generation Self thing then it needs a lot of thought. Apart from everything else, the views and peccadilloes of the twenty-somethings of every age somehow seem to define who the rest of us are. They set the direction.

And so, the churches that are going to benefit are going to be the churches which speak right into the experience of those values being lived. Who will succeed? Who will fail.

All I can see on the horizon is success for those churches which give a clear identity message and doom for those churches which are based on a parish/district model of attracting people simply because they are in the locality.

I can see a future for confident evangelical churches – probably getting bigger again as they offer something directly to a generation who seem to be in the “What’s in it for me?” mentality. What’s in it for you, sunshine? Oh, eternal life, salvation, big things. All for you. I also think that there is a possibility that such churches will increasingly be promoting social justice issues though probably single-issue things like the environment.

And I can see a future for confident expression of a more catholic counterculture to the zeitgeist. I can’t see much of a future for conservative catholicism in any denomination. I can see churches providing spaces and places for those who dream of a connected world, a world where neighbourhood is defined by values not locality and a world where the sacramental refreshes through sign and symbol a bunch of people who are pretty much out of sorts with the prevailing winds of opinion.

“Come to us because we are here in your neighbourhood” just isn’t going to cut it.

Heaven knows, it hasn’t been cutting it (with the possible exception of a few very leafy locales) for quite a while.

if you are not one of them, what do you make of Generation Self? Do you like them? Do they care? What can be done to open the possibility of church as a life enhancing opportunity to them?

If you are a twenty-something, does the description Generation Self feel right?

24 responses to “Good Vicar, Bad Vicar”

Josh

02/01/2014

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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Josh

02/01/2014

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.

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Rosemary Hannah

02/01/2014

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.

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Paul Waddington

04/01/2014

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.

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1. Kelvin
  
  04/01/2014
  
  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.
  
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Pam

04/01/2014

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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