When Faith is 'Quiet' : A Change in Perspective?

Prince William's recent assertion that he has a 'quiet' Christian faith has triggered a great deal of debate both within and outside the church.  

Whilst many people (probably mainly non-churchgoers) have welcomed the heir to the throne 's refreshing openness and honesty and can relate to his position, others (mainly inside the Church) have been critical and have expressed concern about a lack of clarity and commitment in the future 'Defender of the Faith' and 'Supreme Governor of the Church of England'.

The context for this debate is an interesting one. Some politicians and others are claiming that they are fearful for our Christian heritage in today's multicultural, multi-faith Britain.  Much of this 'concern' is a smoke-screen for right-wing anti-immigration views, and church leaders have rightly been critical of so called 'Marches for Jesus' which are actually not pro-Christian at-all but rather anti-Muslim. Indeed the words, actions and policies of those claiming to be marching for Jesus seem to suggest a woeful ignorance of, or disregard for, Jesus' teachings regarding how we should treat the stranger, the foreigner  and the outcast. (Little wonder that one of the Devil's traditional titles is 'Prince of Lies')

The searing irony in all of this is that the Christian foundations upon which our nation was built include the very principles of welcome, hospitality and generosity that are now being so fiercely challenged. Our Christian identity as a nation is indeed under threat, but it is those who claim to be fighting for our Christian values who are actually attacking and undermining them, and of course Jesus has nothing whatsoever to do with it, just as the pseudo-patriots have nothing whatsoever to do with him. 

But back to Prince William. 

His words will have resonated with a very large section of the population.  There are many people who have a 'quiet' faith in that they believe in God and try to live a good life based on Gospel teachings. They seldom or never darken the door of a church save perhaps at Christmas and Easter and/or to mark important rites of passage (i.e. the 'Occasional Offices' of Baptism, Marriage and Funerals). 

Such people will often say, "You don't need to go to Church to be a Christian' - a trope that always irritated me when I was in full-time parish ministry. My instinctive response would always be to argue that there is much more to being a Christian than simply being a good, kind and loving person - indeed many people of other faiths and of no faith have these qualities in abundance - and in order to truly live and grow as a Christian in the true sense of the word it's necessary to deepen one's understanding of scripture, and in particular the Gospels, which I believe is best done in the company of, and with the encouragement of, others.   

My main argument in favour of church attendance, however, is that we gather for Worship (or 'Worthship') to express and celebrate the Worth that we attach to God. This raises the question of whether the 'Quiet' Christian who seldom or never attends public worship has really captured that sense of God's worth  and indeed whether the underlying reason for that is that they have little or no sense of their worth to God.  

It can be argued, of course, that worship need not necessarily be 'public',  and I certainly acknowledge that many people can consciously draw close to God and be 'lost in wonder, love and praise' on a mountain top or in beautiful woodland. I also recognise - albeit with a considerable degree of sadness -  that such environments may be seen as more welcoming, restful and spiritual than many a church, especially for those who grow weary of the Church's many failures and the undeniable toxicity of some of its life.

For a working priest, of course, God is - and needs to be - an ever-present reality. The endless round of  church services, pastoral encounters, study groups, sermon preparation and so on, and (usually) the presence of an office or study in the clergy house means that faith becomes all-consuming, Of course it does, for without it the priest has no raison d'etre. It is, therefore, difficult - perhaps even impossible - for a priest to comprehend how the faith of his or her congregation - never mind those who seldom or never come to church - is not necessarily so all-consuming, at least  not in the same way.  

Having recently retired from full-time ministry and whilst currently awaiting Permission To Officiate (which will allow me to continue exercising a formal ministry in a voluntary and part-time capacity) my perspective on all of this has changed somewhat. I'm now much more aware of how easy it actually is to compartmentalise or even ignore God and (even more so) the Church. I learnt this lesson once before when I took time out from full-time ministry and moved back into secular employment for a few years.  

The truth is that people have very busy lives and many commitments not least in terms of work and  family. In such a situation, it can be much more difficult for God to be perceived as an ever-present reality. 

There are many Christians, of course, who work hard at keeping their faith at the centre of their lives. They are the ones who have been fortunate enough to have sensed their worth to God, which for most is a joyful and liberating experience - although ironically it can become unconsciously corrupted into a form of captivity (more of which in a moment).  

I think this is particularly true of evangelical Christians who have a real sense of  being in an intimate, personal relationship with Christ.  This is often rooted in the notion of Substitutionary Atonement' - the belief that God, angered by human sinfulness, decided to send his own son into this world so that he could be punished on our behalf by suffering a cruel and agonising death. So God takes his anger out on his 'beloved son' with whom he is supposedly well-pleased. This is not an understanding that I share, but that's a subject for another blog. The point is that for those who hold to this belief, there is a sense that 'Jesus died for me, resulting in a faith that is indeed all-encompassing ("love so amazing, so divine, demands my soul, my life, my all") and which is certainly not 'Quiet' as it also generates an instinctive desire to share this belief with others. 

As I've suggested above, this can all go horribly wrong. Many years ago I knew a couple who were very faithful, committed evangelical Christians. Such was their belief that God and God's will must be totally central to their lives that they eventually became virtually paralysed when it came to making even small decisions in life. So when buying a car, they agonised endlessly about what vehicle it should be. When selecting a kitten, they prayed desperately for guidance, fearful that they might choose the wrong one. Their 'fear of God' was an unhealthy fear and tragically it resulted in one of them developing serious mental health problems and ending their own life. 

As with so many things in life, this is all surely a matter of balance. Life is a precious gift from God, to be enjoyed and celebrated to the full. ("I came that they may have life, and have it to the full" - John 10:10).) Faith should empower, not restrict, this enjoyment and celebration. 

My changing perspective in retirement means I think - and hope - that I'm less critical of those, whether prince or pauper  who say they have a 'Quiet Faith' and whose church involvement is minimal. I hope, though, that in that quiet faith there is a genuine sense that they are loved by God, that life is a gift from God to be lived to the full, that God longs to liberate not to oppress, and, therefore,  that they seek and find opportunity - whether within or outside the Church - to worship.