• Review: Leaving Alexandria: A Memoir of Faith and Doubt – Richard Holloway

    Here’s my review of Bishop Richard’s book which recently appeared in inspires:

    It is hard these days to engage with the media of the chattering classes without encountering Richard Holloway. He who was once merely our Primus has become the darling of the exasperated folk for whom the church is no longer a vehicle for the divine but has instead become a stumbling block upon the way. Scarcely a week goes by without someone at church wanting to talk to me about the perceived ‘fact’ that the former Bishop of Edinburgh has lost his faith. Some are inspired by him. Some are frustrated by him. Some are outraged.

    Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose.

    Upon reading Richard Holloway’s new memoir Leaving Alexandria, it becomes immediately obvious that the author has not simply lost his faith. That, after all would be to see the world in black and white – the very thing that he insists we guard against. The truth is considerably more interesting.

    This is a beautiful book. It is often a melancholy book. It is a book that must come top of the list of recent books which someone seeking to understand the modern Scottish Episcopal Church needs to read.

    We begin, as each romantic needs must do, in a graveyard. To be precise, we begin in the graveyard at Kelham College. Kelham was the monastic community into which the young Richard Holloway was entrusted in order to turn him into a priest for the mission field. Kelham is no more and as the author gazes around the graveyard looking at the graves of his mentors and teachers there is a strong, powerful sense of acute loss.

    Did Kelham succeed with Richard Holloway or did it fail? Did it manage to embed into his soul its unique charism? Or did it fail him utterly or even fail the church by producing him? Is the demand that Richard Holloway makes of the world even now to take seriously spiritual questions, in fact simply his own response to a lost religious community that lives yet in his heart?

    Years after ceasing to be the Bishop of Edinburgh and Primus of the Scottish Episcopal Church, Richard Holloway is still capable of generating headlines; still has an immense tolerance for the limelight and still says things more interesting than most of the other religious figures in Scotland put together. That in itself ought to be reason enough to want to read this book which whilst masquerading as autobiography is really something considerably more profound.

    For those who know the Scottish Episcopal Church, there are plenty of other reasons too. Familiar figures pop up throughout its pages. There are glimpses into the world a Primus must inhabit. Some are clearly glamorous – some much more uncomfortable, such as having to face Episcopal colleagues grumpy at a description of opponents of the ordination of women as “miserable buggers” and “mean-minded wee sods”.

    There are many pages here that move me, but none more so than those dealing with the reasons for the Mission 21 initiative in the Scottish Episcopal Church. Much that is written about mission these days seems to be about keeping churches going – often churches which seem to have lost their entire raison d’etre. The motives behind Mission 21 remain as compelling as ever. Here we find a heart beating for the poor in spirit, a soul desperate to reach out to the theologically needy and a passion for those who have been abandoned by much organized religion. It is an agenda for mission which remains completely relevant and persuasive in a way that makes congregation-saving seem utterly banal.

    Having read this book, I have my own sense of melancholy about Richard Holloway’s ministry. However, I’m unable to think terribly negatively about his life. I’m unable to believe that his current proclamations about doubt are the tragedy that many people seem to think. They seem more likely to me to be merely the latest successes of a consummate attention-seeker, trying to draw the world back to an encounter with the deepest spiritual values of all.

    Kelham did something to Richard Holloway which ensured that whilst he has breath in his lungs the rest of the world will think about God.

    Never more so than by reading what is written in these pages.

    Buy now at Amazon: Leaving Alexandria: A Memoir of Faith and Doubt

    Comments welcome

9 responses to “Turning Up and Being Counted”

  1. Lesley-Ann craddock Avatar
    Lesley-Ann craddock

    Thank you Kelvin
    What a read, I really enjoyed it, all of it. You have touched on the 3 things that I too have been wrestling with.
    Liturgy , turning up to be counted, and being open and real with our peers and counterparts.
    Hmmm I wonder if those aspects of being church in this post pandemic implosion of society will somehow be a catalyst to become braver clergy and have proper discussions about what matters to Gods church in its own context. Can we be diverse and not divided, can we lock into our heritage and yet be able to change too. Can Branson pickle save us. X

  2. Christine McIntosh Avatar
    Christine McIntosh

    Great stuff, Kelvin!

  3. Robert MacDonald Avatar
    Robert MacDonald

    Good points well made. We find some church members, who organise a community lunch on a Wednesday, then regularly say ‘we won’t make it on Sunday’. Seems the wrong way round – attendance on a Sunday should come first.

  4. Peggy Brewer Avatar
    Peggy Brewer

    Reading this made my day and contributes to my celebration of the season! Thank you!

  5. Calum Wyllie Avatar
    Calum Wyllie

    Reading this, I feel like it could have been written about me. I couldn’t have been more deeply involved with my church (felt deeply rooted in the weekly liturgy, sat on the PCC, led on diversity and inclusion, set up online streaming for the first time during lockdown), yet I haven’t been back in two years. There is definitely an element of that link of continuity having been broken, and it’s up to me to make the effort to reforge it again. But the anger is also real, and hard to pin down. When somewhere no longer feels like home, when you feel excluded (even when that person was responsible for leading on inclusion!), how do you find the courage to return? When the link with spirituality feels more present in other places (even when I used to absolutely value liturgy, the Eucharist, the community), how do you find a way forward? Too much thinking, and not enough getting on and doing, perhaps…

  6. Meg Rosenfeld Avatar
    Meg Rosenfeld

    Wow–this article is not only thought-provoking, and, to someone who’s a church-goer, extremely easy to identify with, but also entertaining and therefore all the more memorable. As one whose parish church (in San Francisco’s notorious Haight Ashbury neighborhood) nowadays gets about 15 people in the congregation on a “good” day, I do often wonder whether we’re ever going to bounce back from this expletive-deleted pandemic. Personally, I have no choice: I am, on the aforementioned good day, 50% of the alto section, and on other days, 100% thereof. All you folks out there don’t know what you’re missing–except, of course, those of you who are watching on your home computers.

  7. Father Ron Smith Avatar

    Well said, Kelvin Perhaps we clergy don’t stress enough the fact that the Host at our worship is not the clergy, but the Incarnate Son of God; who empowers us to the extent that we are willing to be empowered for daily life and work. I still think of that lovely phrase “Turn towards HIM and be radiant”. What a thrill!

  8. Kennedy fraser Avatar
    Kennedy fraser

    Yes,I still wonder if we have counted all those spiritual communions

  9. John Davies Avatar
    John Davies

    My church (suburban, evangelical Anglican in Birmingham, UK) took a long time to really recover from the lockdown and subsequent fears, but seems to be close to its pre-shutdown numbers again. What my wife and I noticed was that for quite some time the congregation was largely made up of its elderly members – ie those who are not perhaps so nifty with the electronic gadgetry of our age and, also, those who most wanted company. Younger families took a lot longer to return, but are now coming out of the woodwork again.
    One interesting point is that my old church reported a big increase in deaf people watching their zoom or youtube services, because one of the congregation provided signage at the front. Their new found audience felt greatly enabled to join in when they may otherwise never have done so. Is this something worth thinking more about?

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