The Pensive Pilgrim

I'm glad I'm not a bishop and never will be. Why? Because today's Church of England (and indeed the wider Anglican Communion) is no longer the tolerant, inclusive 'broad church' that it once was but is now a rather unpleasant (some would say 'toxic') and belligerent beast in which political expediency often trumps truth and justice and where bullying tactics and emotional coercion have become almost everyday currency. Leading such a wayward institution - whose dirty laundry when made public supports the very common charge of hypocrisy - must be a huge challenge and an unenviable task. Many would say, however, that the bishops have brought this on themselves through decades of weak leadership, a cowardly response to theologically conservative bullies who seem hellbent on changing Anglicanism's entire character so they can have it on their own terms, and a series of unfortunate, mealy-mouthed 'Pastoral Statements' that are often notable only ...

We are all, I guess, products of our time. My serious involvement with the Church of England started in the 1970s; I began to discern a vocation in the latter half of that decade, and commenced training for ordination in the early 1980s. It was a time of liturgical upheaval. In most parishes, the pseudo Prayer Book Language of 'Series One and Two' was giving way to the contemporary language of 'Series Three' - a process that culminated in the publication of the 'Alternative Services Book' of 1980. Meanwhile, across the Tiber, Roman Catholics were adjusting to Mass in the vernacular and a much simplified liturgy. Following the clear spirit of Vatican II, if not its precise letter, Catholic clergy were pulling their high altars forward or abandoning them altogether for new Nave Altars where Mass was celebrated Versus Populum ('facing the people' or 'Westward-facing') rather than 'Ad Orientem' ('Eastward facing, with the priest's...

"Is that something by 'Snow Patrol'?" asked my partner Jeremy. It was a reasonable enough question. He knows that I like 'Snow Patrol' and the song to which I was listening on 'You Tube' did indeed sound as if it could be one of their songs. It was in fact something by 'Hillsong Worship'! It wasn't the first time Jeremy had been caught out like this. Months earlier he'd walked into the room when I was playing Matt Redman's '10,000 Reasons' and he'd said how much he liked it and asked what band it was. "Gosh, you mean it's religious music?" was the response when I enlightened him. My taste in music nowadays is quite catholic, but Jeremy's knowledge and love of contemporary music is far more exhaustive than mine. Like most people, he knows what he likes, and whilst he doesn't have the benefit of my musical training, he can quickly distinguish a good song from 'pop trash' and we can usually...

I wasn't at-all surprised to hear that according to a 'Songs of Praise' ballot, Britain's favourite hymn is 'Jerusalem'. Although it's actually not a hymn at-all, but rather a poem set to music, 'Jerusalem' is frequently sung in Church, not least at weddings and funerals, and continues to be a firm favourite at 'The Last Night of The Proms'. In Brexit Britain, it is, I suppose, inevitable that its apparently patriotic sentiments resonate with a jingoistic nostalgia that longs for the halcyon days of the British Empire. As a so-called hymn, from a theological perspective, 'Jerusalem' is pure drivel. Rather than praising God or making a strong statement of faith, it actually poses a series of questions:- And did those feet in ancient times Walk upon England's mountains green? And was the Holy Lamb of God On England's pleasant pastures seen? And did the countenance divine Shine forth upon our clouded hills? And was Jer...

My world-view is changing; or maybe the world is changing. I always used to think that most people were generally good and occasionally did bad things and that there were a few thoroughly wicked people in the world who did terrible things. Now I'm not so sure. Every time I read the headlines or watch the news on TV, I begin to wonder whether in fact many people are generally bad and occasionally do good things, and that many more are thoroughly wicked and do terrible things. I hope I'm wrong! As a 'baby boomer' I grew up in a world that was still recovering from two World Wars and living with the tension of the so-called 'Cold War' and the threat of nuclear annihilation.  But a growing  determination to learn the gruesome lessons of the recent past led to a renewed sense of hope and a determination to build a better future.  In my twenties and early thirties I watched this hope burgeon as fear and suspicion in relations between east and west gave way to Glas...

It's with some trepidation that I start to write this particular blog. The subject matter is rather sensitive, and I suspect it's inevitable that some of what I write here will distress, annoy or even offend some good friends whom I certainly have no wish to alienate.  I shall, as always, strive to write as truthfully as I can, but given that I am expressing an inner struggle which involves some complex and (I have no doubt) confused and confusing thoughts and emotions, it's possible that some of the nuances of my thinking may be expressed rather clumsily. I hope, therefore, that any readers particularly affected by the issues I raise will feel able to recognise this clumsiness for what it is, and indeed to forgive it, rather than seeing it as mere insensitivity. Nevertheless, I apologise in advance for any hurt that is unwittingly caused, and robust responses will. of course, be welcome!  Over recent days I have read some interesting and at times rather lively Facebo...

"I'm going fishing." No, I'm not quoting Saint Peter as he and the other disciples set out on their fruitless fishing expedition shortly after Jesus' death and resurrection. I'm quoting one of my parishioners who is currently living with a life-threatening condition and having to endure some rather aggressive treatments with pretty awful side effects. I shall call him Fred, although that is not his real name. Fred is understandably prone to bouts of depression, even despair, but at other times he battles bravely and defiantly with his condition. He attends Mass regularly and would be the first to say that he's a devout (Anglo) Catholic. When Fred announced that he was going fishing, it was to account for his absence from church the following Sunday. Clearly Fred finds the peace and solitude of sitting on the riverbank somehow therapeutic, and I certainly don't begrudge him that for a second. Indeed, it's not only fishing that helps Fred, but ...