• Blessings abounding

    I’ve been at a couple of blessings of same-sex couples recently – as a guest rather than as someone celebrating the liturgy. Neither of the recent ceremonies that I’ve been at have been in Scotland. It is more clear to me than ever that this is  global movement and the push towards allowing gay couples to celebrate weddings is an idea whose time has come.

    At the most recent of these ceremonies, the local bishop was presiding over the blessing and one of the people being blessed was a rector. The church was packed full of people as friends and parishioners gathered for an utterly joyous occasion. As has been my experience in Scotland, one of the most extraordinary things about same-sex blessings is how unextraordinary they are. People often comment that they never thought they would live to see the day when such a thing could happen in church but then when you ask them, they say that they think it is just great.

    The churches are still tying themselves in ever more complicated knots over how same-sex couples tie the knot though.

    At one of the ceremonies that I was at, in a part of the world where gay couples can legally get married, I went to a ceremony in a church hall that was entirely secular and conducted by a marriage registrar which was followed by the entire party processing along a corridor and up a flight of stairs to the church sanctuary where another ceremony – a service of blessing took place. Though it was lovely, it was a bit silly to have two ceremonies in different parts of the same building and hard not to feel the injustice of gay people being treated not merely differently but differently in a banal kind of way that brought no credit to marriage, church nor God in her Glory, Might, Majesty and Power.

    At the other service, no legal marriage was possible so the church has devised a liturgy entirely separate from marriage but which effectively does the same thing, with vows, readings, rings and all the trimmings. My question there, is what is going to happen when straight couples come along who like the blessing ceremony and want that rather than a legal wedding. It will happen, and what will the church say then? “Terribly sorry, this isn’t for the likes of you….”

    I also found myself thinking that it is now more than time for our bishops in Scotland to review their policy of not attending any blessing services. It always was a disgraceful policy – effectively making their gay friends and colleagues appear to be their dirty little secret rather than people they were proud of. Saying you are proud in private and sending a nice card won’t do and speaks more of pecksniffian pomp than gospel values.

    None of this is going to be sorted until same-sex couples have the same rights to wed as straight couples of course. For my money, in Scotland, that should mean doing away with Civil Partnerships and simply opening marriage up to same-sex couples. It is the right thing to do and equality through parliamentary decision, plebiscite or legal challenge is coming in so many jurisdictions around the world one way or another that we might as well take a deep breath and get our ecclesiastical house in order so as not to do things which make us, the gospel and Christ himself appear foolish, silly or just plain cruel.

    I was intrigued by Andrew Brown’s Guardian article this weekend - http://t.co/6UKAnEra

    His conclusion is the most striking thing in the piece:

    Conservative evangelicals in England have dreamed or hoped for 20 years that England could be brought back to a Nigerian or Ugandan view of homosexuality. It’s not going to happen, and it’s not going to happen within the Church of England, either. That’s true whoever becomes archbishop. The sexuality wars are coming to an end, and the liberals have won.

    Someone asked me on twitter whether or not I thought that was an overly optimistic view. Actually, I think Andrew Brown is bang on – he just has the gift of being able to see slightly further over the horizon than many people can do. I might want to take issue with the idea that there is just one Nigerian or Ugandan view. Working with a Nigerian curate has taught me that there is diversity  of opinion amongst such communities – a fact that is hardly surprising. However, I think we all know what Andrew Brown means.

    The number of people holding to the hardest of hardline positions amongst the Evangelical communities in the UK seems to me to be declining quite sharply. I’m often in the company of lay people from Evangelical churches who assure me that the tough stuff about gay people is really only the view of the rector and that there is a far greater diversity of opinion than I might expect amongst the congregation. There will probably always be a number of people who can never accept gay people as equals, just as there will probably always be people who can’t accept that women and men are equal and there will regrettably be those who practise racism even now, long after it has become socially unacceptable. Though we need to work to undermine such opinion, my view is that the best way to challenge that with regards to gay people at the moment is not to fight and bicker and fall-out. Rather, we need to work for change, to organise and to simply assert that negative views about God’s gay children are a scandal to the Gospel and stop good people being able to hear the saving news of Christ.

    We are now right in the middle of the process of enormous change that is taking place as the law catches up with popular opinion. It is exciting to be seeing it from different perspectives, coming in different countries.

    What Andrew Brown writes about in the Guardian, I’m seeing with my own eyes. How about you?

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.

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