• St Andrews Debates

    Great night last night in Lower Parliament Hall in St Andrews. I’d been invited to join a panel debate (a bit like Question Time) on LGBT issues at the invitation of the Debating Society and the LGBT Society of St Andrews University.

    I like going back to St Andrews, which was where I read theology from 1989 – 1992. I don’t get there terribly often.

    There are people who go to university there who never leave. They hang around and can’t get it out of their system. I was never like that but it is still lovely to return. There is still an emotional thrill to be had peeking into St Mary’s Quad and thinking, “I was here, I was here”

    So many things about St Andrews never change. However some things do. It was obvious last night that things have changed for gay students. In my time, the LGBT group met behind closed doors in a small room in the Chaplaincy on a Sunday evening. I never went. I would have been frightened to go but do remember walking past the steamed up windows and wondering what was going on inside. (They were probably boiling kettles to make tea, but the steamed up windows did make you wonder).

    Now, the LGBT Society is a sub committee of the Union, like the Debating Society. That means that by definition, every student in the University is a member and they are responsible for providing a range of services. They say there are a couple of hundred active members and last night, LGBT and Debates were holding their first joint event. It is almost inconceivable to me that the Debating Soc, which was so macho, testosterone fueled and deeply conservative in my day should be doing this now.

    It is quite moving to go back to your alma mater. Last night wasn’t just nostalgia for me though. I could see the real, material changes that have come to students like me. Things have changed, gloriously changed in the last 20 years. I’m proud to have been part of that and proud to have joined a great bunch of students last night for debate and socialising afterwards. (Though I gave up and headed to bed before they did).

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

  • Jung

    Someone once told me that I shouldn’t read Jung until after the age of 35. At the time, this made me rather cross, but now somehow I can see what he meant. I have been reading a bit of Jung and a bit of Jungian stuff recently and it all does see rather different now.…

  • Vet II

    “Just put this cream on her eye twice a day for five days….” What fun to have a vet with such an extraordinarily well developed sense of humour. I bet he lies awake chuckling at night at the instructions he has given people during the day.

  • Vet

    Back to the Vet. Madam has a sore eye. Another wrestling match to get her there.

  • I'm back

    Arrived back today. Just found out that several of my websites, though not this one, had been defaced by cybervandals whilst I was away. One really does wonder why sometimes.