I have to go back almost 50 years to remember the experience of attending a professional football match. The setting was Selhurst Park, and the team that I was nominally supporting was Crystal Palace. At the time, I followed the fortunes of this team in a half-hearted way since it was my local team. Several members of my youth club were always talking about it. I have no memory of who won the match I attended, or even who the opposing team was. The memory I have is of the extraordinary roar of the crowd as it followed the action. This might be thought to give fans an experience of something like a ‘one hundred and forty-four thousand’ event as in Revelation 7.
My brief exposure to the world of football was sufficient to allow me some small understanding of the intense tribal loyalties that coalesce around all the different clubs in this country. The important thing for me to understand then was that there was truly nothing more important in the world than for the favoured side to win. It was Bill Shankly who said “Some people believe football is a matter of life and death, I am very disappointed with that attitude. I can assure you it is much, much more important than that.” I wonder how many other groups in society command that kind of devotion and loyalty. If we were to suggest that a Christian feels even a small amount of this devotion, then the Church would be a considerably livelier institution. The non-members of the Church might see the devotion of the members, if there were even a little of the dedication shown by an ardent football fan. Such ‘evangelism’ would not necessarily be attractive to the outsider but at least they would know that the fans of the Church were serious in their commitment. However, sadly, evangelism does not seem to work like this. Few Christians seem able to feel, let alone communicate, the radiant exuberance of the devoted football fan.
The identification of the football fan with his/her team is rewarded by the occasional intense moment of experiencing the triumph of victory. Equally, there are the other times of disappointment and pain. As a student I once worked as a barman for a single day at Twickenham when a big rugby match was under way. It became apparent to me, as I collected up countless beer glasses, that intense joy or sorrow could both be marked by the consumption of copious amounts of alcohol.
Being a football fan allows the individual to experience the highs and lows of an identification with a large institution. All human beings need to belong, and the identification with a team gives the individual fan a strong sense of being part of a ‘we’. There are two aspects of this belonging. First, the fan feels part of the playing team, the managers, the players and the coaches. All fans will have strong opinions as to why things are going wrong, if they do. The language used to criticise managers seems to be colourful and explicit. Alongside this sense of bonding with the team etc., there is also the experience of mutuality and solidarity with fellow fans. They are met on the terraces and on the trains going to and from away matches. Although racism and homophobic attitudes have sadly crept into the world of football, most fans would prefer their team and its supporters to be more moral and upright than others. Fans are quick to condemn such things as fixed matches and bribery allegations. Bad behaviour by players, on or off the pitch, is taken personally and the shame of such episodes is felt keenly by fans as though committed by the fan individually. Conversely when a player is revealed as upright and moral, the fans feel the pride of achievement as though it is their own. Marcus Rashford, whose actions on behalf of poor families earned him an MBE, was applauded by Manchester United fans because ‘their’ player was seen to achieve in a new sphere of excellence.
Passionate identification with an institution is something that Christians should be able to recognise readily. For a Christian, the identification is a double reality. We identify with Christ himself and our belief is that we approach God ‘as found in him’. The act of Communion is a moment where we symbolically become part of him. Our identification is also one we make with an institution, the Church. In being Christians, we have chosen to identify with Christ as well as the mixed bag of fellow travellers who call themselves Christian pilgrims.
Identifying with a group of other people over whom we have no influence or control is, however, a risky business. If they are good people and respected by others, then our identification with them is a positive thing for us. If, on the other hand these people are evil and bent only on their selfish needs, then our act of solidarity with them can diminish us and be personally damaging. If there is a risk involved in being identified with the institutional Church, this is especially true especially of a Christian leader. Such leaders benefit if the Church has a good reputation and is thought by ordinary people to be doing a good job. They can more easily enjoy the esteem of their position. If on the other hand the reputation of the Church is poor, the esteem given to leaders can shrink to point of vanishing. Their job will become increasingly hard to do and any gratification afforded to them by having status in society will be under threat.
In a situation where there is periodic negative publicity against the Church, such as we have at present, Christian leaders have a dilemma. One way of dealing with the situation is to defend the institution by maintaining that any wrongdoing is not typical of the whole. This may be true but that is not how the watching public sees it. ‘They are all tarred with same brush’ might be the unfair but typical response after yet another scandal in the Church. The onlooker has grasped a part of the truth. The shame of an abusive action by a leader or a member does implicate many innocent others in some way. The honest approach in the face of any scandal in the Church is for the leaders to acknowledge the fact that the shame of abusive actions spreads outwards. When wrongdoing occurs, there is a need for healing and reparation to take place within the wider institution. Any attempt to deny the awfulness of what has happened, or worse still, attempts to bury the truth, will be seen as examples of appalling hypocrisy. Guilt may not belong to every single member but leaders’ attempts at cover-up or burying the truth with silence and denial, will severely damage the whole Church institution. This damaged reputation will be severely corrosive on the ability of the Church to get alongside people in the future and to be trusted by the general population.
The football fan is passionately identified with his/her football team. The pain of defeat or the shame of bad behaviour by a team member is accepted as part of the course. If a fan were only to celebrate the victories and ignore the negatives and defeats, we would question their status as a proper supporter. If a member or leader in the Church refuses to own any sense of imputed shame when things go wrong and people are harmed in some way, then we seem to be witnessing a betrayal. It might also be described as a failure of nerve and commitment. In practical terms, a passionate identification with team Church has been exchanged for their cowardly silence and neutrality. At this moment we are very much aware, because of the death of ++Tutu, of the true nature of such neutrality. Neutrality too easily leads to a denial of justice and a failure to love and respect others. Silence and neutrality were inappropriate in the South Africa of the 80s when the struggles for justice were at their height. They are also incongruous today, especially in the Church where we look for passionate leadership and action instead of the weak indecisive leadership we so often encounter. The new word invented in the past few days, ‘Tutufication’, is a summary of what we look for from our Church leaders inspired by the example of ++Tutu. In the place of the culture of silence, neutrality and managerialism, we look for integrity, confident truth telling and freedom from fear among our church leaders. We also look for passionate concern and support for the victims and survivors of power abuse. Those who live under the stress of a malicious CDM are also sufferers every bit as much as the victims of apartheid. Neutrality, silence and failures of integrity are all profoundly damaging to the Church. Sadly, there are many who have opted for detached indecisive behaviour. This is far from the passionate identification with an institution that we find among football fans. We might have hoped to find a measure of such passion among the leaders of the Church of Christ.
At the beginning of 2022 we find the Church of England in a state of considerable crisis. It has been implicated in a number of abusive events and at the same time it has been singularly unsuccessful in convincing the victims of these horrors (or the watching world) that it knows what to do to put things right. In summary, the Church leadership does not seem to understand how to deal with the shame that inevitably attaches itself to an institution when things go wrong. Our Scriptures, nevertheless, do fully understand the meaning of sorrow, contrition, sin and failure and how we can proceed from here. We need to see evidence of all these to convince a watching public, that there is still a measure of passionate commitment to truth and justice in the Church and especially among its leaders.
What a lovely way to start the new year. Thank you, Stephen. So apt. Inspiring.
The amount of disillusionment with the Church of England’s senior leadership is really astonishing. Or maybe what’s really surprising is that so many people are now coming right out and saying how fed up they are.
I’m hoping that a new appointments secretary and a tranche of new bishops might give opportunity for the radical change we need – but I’m not holding my breath.
It is hard to preach the Gospel joyfully if you know you have badly transgressed it either by helping to cover up scandalous behaviour or are a party to unjust cdm processes. At least if you believe in the Christian faith. And those who have lost their faith will hardly profess the joy the late Arch was known for. Either way it is not surprising we have no inspiring leadership. Sad because our Bible shows the way out of this mess contrition, putting right what we can, and a change of direction. In a couple of decades of volunteer prison ministry, I saw a sea change in people who followed this path, and a more joyful style of living. Are our leaders willing to do the same?
Lack of passion, I found demoralising in the people around me at church. What was the point of sitting there just going through the motions?
Perhaps it was the provision of free childcare for an hour on Sunday morning and a quiet doze through the sermon. Perhaps it was the ritual connection with the social clique. Wine drinkers. Chelsea tractor drivers? I did wonder: connections for the dinner party circuit? Why were they there?
Excellence in performance of worship isn’t exactly the same thing as passion, but I’d take it. At least it shows commitment. My tastes are eclectic: sung Eucharist or HTB rock, but at least be good.
Mediocrity oozes from the top ranks of the CofE like overflow from a blocked drain. The system itself seems to generate wave after wave of wet weekends. I suppose it’s hardly surprising this spirit should filter down to the rank and file.
Those of us who inhabit the lower echelons are often unaware of what goes on in the more exalted strata. Playing politics features liberally. Protectionism and greed too.
The early church changed the system completely, and grew rapidly as a consequence. The vested interests worked hard to kill it off, but their persecution only succeeded in watering the growth. Perhaps that’s what we’re beginning to see now. For example, with the attacks on a reforming Percy, the brazen attempts to exile him have generated a movement across society for reform.
People hate losing repeatedly and in the end the manager gets the sack. It’s a cycle you see repeatedly in football and indeed other sports. But the passion to win seems as rare as the passion for worship. We should ask ourselves if we really believe in anything at all, and if we do, then go for it/Him wholeheartedly.
“The early church changed the system completely, and grew rapidly as a consequence. The vested interests worked hard to kill it off, but their persecution only succeeded in watering the growth.”
Maybe that was true of the apostolic and sub-apostolic eras, but after Constantine the ‘system’ appropriated Christianity, rather than vice versa. Growth continued apace because it was not a good idea to offend a powerful emperor, and Constantine was an unusually powerful ruler by the standards of the late empire. Even after the empire collapsed, successor states wanted Christianity to legitimate their administrative and cultural appeals to ‘Romanitas’; the faith advanced chiefly: (i) out of nostalgia for a lost empire (to which the papacy claimed a degree of inheritance); (ii) in order to preserve class power (social gradations mirrored the heavenly hierarchy and the Neoplatonic construct of the Trinity); and (iii) by means of the sword and the revenue ledger.
When the Donatists protested in favour of a primitive and egalitarian Christianity they were crushed, intellectually by Augustine of Hippo, and militarily, by Honorius, then by the Vandals and, finally, by the Umayyads. When the Swabian and Bavarian peasants rose against their lords in 1524, partly in the name of the radical Reformation of Muntzer, Karlstadt and the Anabaptists, they too were crushed, with Luther actively encouraging the nobles in the most brutal repression.
The Christianity of class power and social control has been Christianity almost everywhere and almost all of the time. The faith is so entwined with repression as to be incapable of effecting reforms, save by exception or to forestall revolution (i.e., to better preserve the social order). Think of liberation theology in Latin America; it was repressed by the papacy but, in any event, it led to, or at least facilitated, the rapid growth of various forms of evangelical Christianity, the most famous current exponent of which is Bolsonaro, the ‘tropical Trump’.
I am afraid that, much as the Percy case is of considerable importance to readers of a few Anglican websites (possibly a few thousand people, at most), it extremely unlikely to generate any momentum for wider social changes. The only useful societal contribution made by the Church over the last decade was the challenge to Wonga, but that fizzled out after a few months (and Wonga’s business model was, in any event, unsustainable); of usury, the Church now has nothing to say: indeed, ‘liberal Anglican’ thinkers of the 1820s to 1830s were in the vanguard of the campaign to abolish the usury laws.
Your knowledge of history is always detailed and admirable Froghole! It was a subject I escaped as early as I could. No prizes for guessing who my early history teacher might have been. Nevertheless it’s important what you are describing, and vital for an understanding of where the Church is now, and indeed what might be possible for her in the future.
I still believe, despite the repeated secular takeover and subsuming, that at her heart are still genuine people of God. There may not be many. They may be overlooked, oppressed or even flattened, but some place there are still folk who do not bend the knee to Caesar.
On the one hand every time a new church is set up, almost immediately someone builds walls, a hierarchical salary structure and homage to the state (or the state adopts it), but on the other hand , within the world at large, a few good people serve the Lord wholeheartedly without fear or favour. And love their neighbours like Christ taught. I’ve met a few here, so I still have basis for a little optimism.
But what is becoming clearer to me at least, is that Church structures cannot realistically be reformed back to where they might ideally have started. Someone said there are 30,000 denominations, but the similarities of the ones I’ve seen are greater than the differences. Perhaps God knows this and lets it pan out anyway.
Perhaps too it’s the job of the survivor community, for example, to be the grit in the oyster.
As to Percy’s saga and its limited audience, I often ponder what the real issue is. It seems to be an exemplary case study in institutional narcissism. Arguably there is no such thing as bad publicity, but despite now being fully aware of a College I’d previously never thought of, I certainly wouldn’t recommend it to my nieces and nephews., notwithstanding its noteworthy alumni. No, the saga is a sign for Christians; a clear warning to put things right, at least in their own churches, if not in Oxford. Narcissistic tendencies are, in the end, self-limiting because they are based in phantasy. When reality kicks in, such as with covid deniers catching covid, the awful truth kicks in.
I suspect that albeit a small audience will lever the outrage at Percy’s treatment to the eventual downgrade of charitable status to the Church at large. Change in these matters happens in quanta. This saga, along with other scandals, are tipping points along the route to change.
Many thanks indeed for those illuminating remarks.
Obviously the issue at stake here is establishment, and the burdens and privileges which attend to it. Many clergy feel strongly that the established status of the Church be preserved; they do so, bluntly, because they believe that it gives them a degree of enhanced status, although one which gives them the right to dispense pastoral care to all and sundry (a species of spiritual noblesse oblige). They also do so because they are conscious that if the Church lost its established status it would either fall apart and lead to acrimonious disputes about property (which is an outcome which will give rise to a shrug of the shoulders for many) and/or result in a further decline in the status of the clergy. These are mostly self-interested arguments. Anyone who still believes that England is or ought to be a Christian country needs to reflect on the practical realities.
The question is how far the split ought to go: should it be complete, or should the Church have a soi-disant relationship with the state as in Scotland (the Kirk is not, I think, an established church; its status is necessarily more ambiguous, ere the reunion of 1929 would never have occurred).
As I see it establishment gives the Church authorities: (i) the right to act in a more cavalier manner with victims, since the Church can hide behind its own legislation and processes; and (ii) the right to act more arrogantly towards those who fall foul of it or who do not pay its dignitaries due obeisance (by asking difficult and/or ‘impertinent’ questions about past abuse).
The point you make about the charitable status of the Church is a useful one. This https://charityfutures.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/history-of-charity-lecture-online-copy-30-6.pdf and this https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/history-of-the-law-of-charity-15321827/7FACC5D510CF3735598056F50F0E2CD8 are useful background. The advancement of religion has been protected by charity and trust law because it has been seen as socially useful. The question is whether this continues to be the case, given changes in wider social mores, and in the context of abuse scandals. Christ Church’s statutes refer to the advancement of religion as well as the provision of education. I think there is a reasonable risk of sanctions being applied. However, the charitable status of the churches (and other faith groups) is open to question. The Church Commissioners pay almost no tax (this helps their funds to swell), and the question is whether they are freeloading on the taxpayer (not least because they do not fund subventions to the CCT from their own endowment, whereas DDCMS provides taxpayer money) as well as on the parishes.
Whilst some Anglicans do not indeed bend the knee to Caesar, the history of the Church of England as an effective department of state is likely to mean that it is far to compromised to change.
I should add that the Church is like a typical bully in a hierarchical power structure: it licks up and kicks down.
A recent example of this was the failure of Synod to approve the consecration of women bishops in 2012. The prime minister was not impressed, and told the House of Commons that Synod needed to ‘get with the programme’. Those who voted against the measure in Synod suddenly overcame their ‘deeply held’ doctrinal scruples and let it through. No doubt they were impressed by the threat posed by the State to the Church’s money, power and privileges, so cravenly surrendered their faith-based ‘reasoning’ in objecting to women bishops.
Yet this same Church has thought nothing of squashing victims, denying them justice, gagging them, dispensing paltry damages in return for silence, having them ‘talk to the hand’, etc.
It is institutionally coercive, but this is precisely what the real founders of the Church under the Elizabethan settlement – Matthew Parker, John Whitgift, etc. – intended it to be. A lapdog of the State, and one that is all too willing to sink its teeth into refractory people.
Now of course there are those within the Church who are not like that. They are the toilers in the vineyard. However, there are plenty of people within the Church who are on the make, and who will only too willing to adhere to the coercive model to get their way and, above all, to get their place in the seat of power. They are the enemy within. I have concluded that it these people who need to be cut down to size by means of disestablishment and, above all, disendowment.
You’re absolutely right!
‘much as the Percy case is of considerable importance to readers of a few Anglican websites (possibly a few thousand people, at most)…’
Actually you have to add the readership of the Times and Private Eye to that – both have been covering the dispute pretty thoroughly and continually for the last four years. And the online comments under the Times articles is increasing, rather than decreasing, and almost wholly weighted towards Dean Percy. Those commenting unfavourably re. Christ Church include such influential people as Peter Bottomley and Libby Purves: with opinion formers such as they, the Charity Commission, and Oxford’s Chancellor (Lord Patten) weighing in, the likelihood of change is increasing.
However, I agree that it may be the college rather than the Church which is forced to change – though the scandal is certainly reflecting badly on Oxford Diocese and the Church of England, for failing to defend Percy and see justice done.
Reading Froghole’s comment regarding the church no longer having any real societal impact it reminded me of how surprised I was in my diocese, Southwark, when diocesan synod voted on whether the Bishop of Croydon should be replaced after he retires in March. Firstly I didn’t realise this was a voting matter and that dioceses had that much autonomy and secondly, synod voted to replace him because of his work with refugees. While obviously not undermining that work, does it really take a Bishop to do it and anyway it is not a foregone conclusion that his successor will carry that on.
I found it all a bit bizarre and though every effort on behalf of refugees is welcome the Bishop’s contribution is hardly going to make the history books or even Wiki. I feel the church lives in a rather self important bubble.
I was brought up to believe that we, as Christians, were much better people. Over a lifetime of belief I’ve realised there’s no guarantee of this. Often there is an inverse correlation between our faith and quality of behaviour. People of other faiths and none often do much much better.
The self importance Trish refers to is part of the narcissistic complex often rearing its ugly head. The impression it leaves on those outside the Church leads to antagonism or indifference, or both.
If indeed “[t]he act of Communion is a moment where we symbolically become part of him”, it has been destroyed by the imposition of mandatory mask-wearing in places of worship. The prevention of normal face-to-face communication has meant that the exchange of the peace has been all but cancelled.
Whereas there is a tiny concession in the regulations for congregational singing – in recognition, perhaps, of how uncomfortable it is to sing while wearing a mask, added to the very slight risk of choking on cloth with each sharp intake of breath – church authorities have tended to go further than the regulations require.
This is in marked contrast to bars, pubs and restaurants where guests have been welcomed with open arms – and not a mask in sight! Leaders of the hospitality industry have got their act together and been very effective in lobbying the government not to impose restrictions unnecessarily in the face of a much milder variant of Covid.
So where are our leaders? Why are they not passionately lobbying the government too? As a consequence of their inaction, we have been rendered the uptight masked-up virtue-signaling Pharisees at carol services, looking down at the reckless omicron-spreaders over the road in the pub. I wonder where Jesus would have been this Christmastide…
I suspect Jesus would have been down the pub, but with a mask on so as to avoid endangering his fellow revellers – and the pub staff who have no choice but to be there.
As someone who is immune-compromised, I deeply appreciate the ‘masked-up virtue-signaling [sic] Pharisees’ who put others’ life and health before their own comfort. That is a truly Christian thing to do.
Agreed. There are still people dying, and I don’t want it to be me. Andrew, you have a very selfish, self indulgent attitude. Mask wearing protects other people. And that is the case in the pub, too.
Are you proposing that mask-wearing should become a permanent feature of public worship, and social interaction more generally?
Sooner or later, we’re going to have to learn to live with Covid, because we’re never going to completely eradicate it, especially now that the population are mostly doubly-jabbed and getting boosted at a rapid rate. We’ve never had restrictions imposed because of outbreaks of seasonal influenza, which is probably now about as lethal as Covid.
In any case, masks aren’t completely infallible because coronavirus is an airborne pathogen, and you breathe in the air around you. You may have noticed that masked people tend to huddle together more than they would do otherwise. That’s probably why there was no appreciable difference in levels of transmission between the four nations of the UK back in the autumn, when mask-wearing in public places in England was purely voluntary. Indeed, rates of transmission were fractionally higher in Wales than in England.
Early on the pandemic, even Dame Jenny Harries, the then Deputy CMO, admitted that masks were next-to-useless as a non-pharmaceutical intervention (compared to social distancing) in a Downing Street press conference.
There’s been a lot of research on the effectiveness of wearing masks since Dame Jenny’s statement early in the pandemic: the scientific consensus is now that wearing a mask helps to protect both the wearer and others from infection (https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/science/science-briefs/masking-science-sars-cov2.html). Of course they’re not 100% effective – nothing is. But they make a significant difference.
My own observation is that people wearing masks also tend to take other precautions, such as keeping a distance from other people.
The Chinese have long been wearing masks whenever they have a cold or other minor infection, in order to protect others ; so yes, this could become a permanent feature to an extent. I intend to wear one whenever I have a cold in future.
Getting back to the topic of this blog, I agree that in ordering all C of E churches to be closed completely, during the first lockdown, our archbishops and bishops were overreaching themselves a bit. Nor am I aware that they have any power to order that masks must be worn in all churches. If they have advised that masks should be worn, however, they are merely following the science and obeying current restrictions. That’s responsible behaviour.
Where I would like to see archbishops and bishops – and archdeacons and other senior clergy – taking a strong lead is in a passion for justice. ‘Tutufication’ would involve refusing to discriminate against anyone because of something they can’t help, such as sex or sexual orientation. The C of E is a notable offender when it comes to justice and equality for those on the margins. Senior clergy also have a shocking indifference to justice for victims of church abuse.
A number of bishoprics are now vacant or soon will be – those appointed need to be cut from different cloth than those currently wearing mitres.
Many thanks. I do agree. However, I do think that there are other basic things which churches ought to be doing to prevent spread.
As has become apparent, and as the government is attempting to stress, good ventilation is essential in order to dissipate bacteria; this is especially important in view of the highly contagious nature of the omricon variant. Indeed, this risk had become evident when there was a resurgence of infection in Israel in May/June 2020 when after a drastic lockdown the schools went back in summer, aircon was switched on (and the windows closed to make it work more effectively) and it circulated the virus.
Unfortunately, proper distancing has broken down in many churches. Worse still, many churchwardens and sidespersons are closing church doors, even in relatively small church buildings. As the very least the door ought to be kept ajar to permit a reasonable degree of airflow; ideally, it ought to be kept well open, and if there are two doors they ought to remain open to permit a through-draft. Some churchwardens will, of course, be exercised by the loss of heat, but this has been one of the mildest winters on record (so far…) and I would suggest that enjoining people to wrap up well, is probably a better economy than the loss of a relatively small amount of dissipated heat. Many church attendees are towards the upper end of the age distribution, and a good many of those still dying from the virus are over 70/75 and fully vaccinated; as so many in authority have noted, the vaccine provides partial protection and what protection it does afford dissipates quickly (especially after 10 weeks): many of those who received booster jabs in the autumn will be losing antibodies fast, and may be quite vulnerable come late January or February.
This is also the big problem with most trains and offices: air conditioning is the friend of the airborne virus.
Speaking for myself, I put my mask on and sanitise as a matter of course; it has become second nature, and now so automatic that I scarcely give it a thought.
I don’t attend church in person any more because of Covid, as a family member has ME, so we are very cautious. Judging by reports, numbers are down, so I suspect others think the same.
God seems to have gone to considerable lengths to close down our Sunday morning gatherings, so why are we so eager to open them back up again? It’s time for us to revisit the gospels and see what Jesus wanted churches to be. See me new book, Follow Jesus! : Do I Have to Go to Church? Can I Trust the Bible? Available from Amazon.
Apologies if this marketing offends, but the book is relevant to this blog and discussion.
Science, as we know, is a moveable feast.
There are datasets, and there are scientists, policy-makers and the general public. By definition, epidemiologists are only experts in their chosen specialism. Even then, their well-publicized models of the likely impacts of omicron have been shown to be completely unfounded.
We could already have reached peak omicron, and there has thankfully been no significant rise in ICU admissions or deaths. For the vast majority of the vaccinated population, it is usually no more inconvenient than the common cold (which is itself a coronavirus), or completely asymptomatic. Even in care homes, you are now more likely to die of loneliness than Covid.
In some cases, it was suspected that scientists manipulated and exaggerated the data for political purposes. And they are certainly clueless as to the wider social impact of ongoing restrictions on churches, schools, the workplace, and ordinary social contact.
Schools are reporting that children forced to wear masks during lessons for hours on end have simply given up on interacting with their teachers or peers, and their mental health is suffering as a consequence. It is just too effortful to communicate from behind a mask without the facial clues.
None of the studies Janet helpfully cites were conducted in churches. It is virtually impossible to control the variables which rely on behavioural observations, so it amounts to a meta-study of largely anecdotal research. No one expects our leaders to engage meaningfully with this kind of quantitative data.
But a substantial body of qualitative data is now available to those with ears to hear and eyes to see. Just ask the laity or school teachers! The most valuable contribution church leaders can make to the national debate is to identify the likely adverse long-term impact of Covid restrictions, and to confront the authorities on our behalf.
None of the above changes the fact that our archbishops and bishops are following the science and current restrictions. I am generally very critical of our senior layer, but on this one at present I think they’re right.
Their terrible apathy in stations which should inspire a passion for justice is a different matter. I can’t see any of this lot overturning the moneychangers’ tables in the Temple. In fact, they pay reputation management firms large sums of money, much of it taken ultimately from our donations, to deny justice to those who desperately need it.
But “following the science” is a meaningless cliché, usually deployed by politicians, journalists or other public figures, who haven’t bothered to think for themselves, or to cast a critical eye over the data.
Empirical science requires interpretation, retrospect, and keeping things in perspective, in order to make meaningful sense out of observations in real time – especially when they have unforeseen consequences which have an adverse impact on society in the long term. And interpretation involves human beings, who often can’t help applying their own narrowly personal or professional bias. Scientists are political too!
Besides, the bench are emphatically not in the same boat as the owners of the hospitality industry who need the punters to make a profit. The stipends and pensions of the former are drawn entirely from the Church Commissioners’ investment funds, which are themselves derived from rents and the profits of listed companies.
In other words, the hard work of drumming up business is done by someone else, and our dear leaders can just sit back and enjoy their ample dividends: i.e., they have no skin in the game.
Andrew, we are not going to agree. And because of people who think as you do, many of us are more at risk than we would otherwise have been.
I’m now leaving this conversation, but I wish you well.
Taking your argument to its logical conclusion, we’d stay permanently entombed in our homes, permanently isolated from society. That’s the only sure way of eliminating communicable diseases, but it’s not the sort of world I’d want to live in.
Does that mean that someone like me who is blind is not a participant?
Sorry, the above is a reply to Andrew.
May I point out that here in Wales mask-wearing has been mandatory in churches (when they’ve been open) throughout the pandemic, with no exception being made for singing. It’s not ideal, but we’ve managed.
Andrew, the suggestion that scientists simply mould their findings to fit is paranoid. The modellers are not epidemiologists, it’s a different skill. Granted that Omicron infects far more people, even at lower rates of serious illness and death, there could still be large numbers of deaths. That would lag behind the infection numbers. So it is too early to tell.
The Church plays politics too. It has to. The state which adsorbed it or appropriated it to “sanctify” its existence is slowly but surely beginning to step away. The established Church cannot afford too many additional scandals to add to the endemic historical abuses, such as the Peter Ball disaster or the IICSA atrocities. As pointed out earlier, the Church needs to “get with the program” whatever this happens to be.
To take a stand and appear to challenge government and an increasingly church-sceptic society; that ain’t going to happen, whatever the rights and wrongs of mask-wearing or indeed any other measure.
Society itself has moved over more to vaccines and away from vaccine-scepticism. Mask wearing probably is here to stay with some folk, whatever the regulations. In an anecdotal survey of children getting on my train on the way home from school, most were wearing theirs, but not all. The bloke on an earlier train who wasn’t wearing one, but coughing, I’d have moved to another carriage, if he’d sat near me. It’s another form of antisocial behaviour. Personally I’m very grateful for the triple covid and flu vaccines I’ve had. I’ve escaped so far, but people around me haven’t. Covid is much worse than the common cold, whichever variant you might get.
When the Church does take a stand, it tends to make a bit of a Horlicks of it, despite the expensive PR advisors. Best not.
It isn’t paranoia, and epidemiologists are also modellers. Professor Lockdown himself, Neil Ferguson the Imperial College epidemiologist, has admitted that he “oversimplified things” with his doomsday Covid predictions/models.
But why are you apparently so much ore exercised about mask-wearing in churches, than about real justice issues such as:
– treating women as equals with men (so no excuses for discrimination)
– treating LGBT people as equal with heterosexual cis people
– ensuring justice for the hundreds of people who have been abused by clergy or church officers
– the use of NDAs and confidentiality clauses to ensure silence
– the failure to extend meaningful apologies to victims
– the rank injustices of the CDM?
Because lobbying to ditch compulsory mask-wearing is, I believe, a noble and achievable cause. All the other issues you mention, Janet, aren’t so amenable to simple directives from on high!
Ditching mask wearing is definitely not simple – it flouts medical advice and endangers the life and health of thousands of people, many of them vulnerable. It also restricts the freedom of those who might feel able to attend church (or pubs and shops) if they knew that others were taking sensible precautions.
Whereas issuing apologies in proven abuse cases really is straightforward.
I always wear a mask in shops etc. I know one shop assistant who suffers from asthma and cannot protect himself by wearing a mask. I can help to protect him by doing my bit and wearing one. It is not a lot to ask in order to protect others, but particularly the many people who are more vulnerable.
But that’s to ignore all the other adverse risks, such as the psychological and social, associated with prolonged mask-wearing. Forcing schoolchildren to wear masks throughout the school day is, in my view, itself a form of institutional abuse.
I don’t suppose it makes much difference if you have to wear a mask to pop into a shop. It’s become a part of our daily routine – though an absolute pain if you find you’ve left it at home as you’re about to enter a store! In my experience of travelling by train over the Christmas break, most people were ignoring the requirement to wear masks – whether holiday-making families, or party-going revelers.
And that’s perfectly rational behaviour. For the vast majority of the population, omicron is an extremely mild variant, and no more of a hazard than seasonal flu – for which, incidentally, we’ve never had to endure petty restrictions on our liberties.
The last two years, when we have been ruled by the high priests of epidemiology, just reflects the Kafkaesque absurdities of an age when the slavish faith in the scientific method has become a particularly insidious form of fashionable, though ultimately futile, idolatry.
One important caveat is of course the vaccines, where the scientific method came up trumps. Scientists, though, should mostly be confined to their labs, not let loose on the airwaves! Lockdowns and compulsory mask-wearing will be judged by history to have been a serious error of judgment because of the long-term harm they cause.
Why do you believe it to be psychologically detrimental to wear a mask? As a
Blind person I would be really interested especially in view of your earlier remarks about mask wearing during communion.
I think the theme of this thread has been exhausted. I am not sure how it arrived at this point but I propose to remove any further contributions on this thread.