Sunday, 29 April 2018

The Real Takeover of the Church of England

Ignoring the spurious takeover of the Church of England by the evangelicals, the Bishop of Burnley tells us that the selection procedures for ministry in that denomination favour the middle classes.

Well, you could have knocked me down with a Toyota Rav4. An establishment whose leadership traditionally came from the landed classes, and which requires its members be able to know where to look in at least two and possibly three books in order simply to take part in its regular meetings. How could it be that it favours literate, assertive people in its selection criteria? After 500 years of the Church of England, in 400 of which the best qualification for being an incumbent was being related to the patron - how could this have happened? But I reckon it is in fact true. The Church of England has in fact been taken over by the posh. It happened in the 16th Century - if not earlier. And, like Cybermen, your best chance of joining the club is to be like them. If you're not like them, get assimilated. And so the Church of England continues its merry way, the last refuge of the 18th Century.

An - ahem - acquaintance of mine can indicate some personal experience here. On a Bishop's Advisory Panel, he discovered that one of the Advisers was the Archdeacon of Charing Cross. Although this particular candidate was working class in upbringing, he was fortunate enough to have got into Oxford, where he had learnt to treat people with silly titles with equanimity. And so he was merely able to reflect that he had accidentally wandered into a Trollope novel. If he'd been by trade a welder, he might have decided to have a few at the bar and then just legged it for Stafford station.

Now I'm no student of Anglican culture. But I'd like to make some suggestions. Have a look, see what you think. There may be something in some of them. And if not, maybe your realisation of my mistake will help you to come up with something better.

  1. As people in business are gradually realising, "leadership" is a very amorphous concept. "Leadership" often just means "self confidence". People who are brought up knowing where the next croissant is coming from, who have been taught that they can achieve their aspirations, will have more self-confidence than those who have struggled throughout. Having to succeed from a working-class background can make assertiveness look like aggression - because one has always had to struggle. Confidence is an illusion. Advisers and DDOs* should really be looking for competence.
  2. Don't have people with grand titles as BAP advisers. Or if they are, just let them say they're called "Jim". Unless they're women of course. But then, I'm not going to oppress them. Jim it is. Best of all, get some people with local accents and let them be BAP advisers. If you're from a working class town and you end up talking to an adviser who lives in a limestone cottage in a rural village - what's that going to tell you?
  3. Consider working-class attitudes to education, training and relocation. To a posh chap from Wiltshire, who spent three years at Durham University, another two years at "Staggers" might sound quite reasonable. To a working-class woman from Swindon, it might seem like an alien existence.
  4. Don't use stupid, public-school terminology like "Staggers".
  5. Likewise, consider time constraints and flexibility in training. A shop manager will have the team-building, leadership and - let's face it - entrepreneurial skills to be a good minister. In this world of dispersed courses, with maybe fortnightly getting-together for seminars and residential weekends - how do you give them the chance to get there?
  6. That and times ten for a single parent with a job.
  7. And if you're asking yourself "should a single parent with a job or a shop manager with shifts be even considering ministry?" then you're part of the problem.  
  8. And don't diss non-residential training. As the Church of England becomes more like the Flyte family, clinging to genteel existence while having no money and living off appearances and the past, economics are important. And yes I know that even using this reference has put a certain stamp on me. And no I don't care. It was deliberate. 
  9. Consider the "Common People" syndrome. Well-heeled types might feel called to inner-city or working-class estate ministry. But they are also essentially aliens there. This means they are likely never truly part of that community - they are always "ministering" to the "ministered".  Is that the model of church we want? And, like the Greek with a thirst for knowledge who studied sculpture at St Martin's College, if the worst comes to worst there's a good chance they can call their daddy, who'll stop it all. Somebody who came from that neighbourhood will see it differently. They'll know not to trust the locals. They might decide they'd rather do anything than go back there. But they will, like it not, belong. Or they might really want something rather different.
  10. During preaching training, telling someone they should "enunciate better" really means that they should sound more like you. And if you say like Prince Charles that's not necessarily a good thing. Apart from Prince Charles, obviously. But if he's training for the ministry then (a) you know there really is a problem with class and (b) he's decided his mum's going to live forever. Good luck to her, I say. Gord bless 'er.
  11. Sherry receptions at residential weekends? Really? Do you know what century it is?


* Diocesan Directors of Ordinands - clerical talent-spotters


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Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

The Church of England's Evangelical Takeover

The Revd Angela Tilby, for whom I have a great liking and respect, prays in the Church Times for salvation from the Evangelical Takeover. I will say that I think this is misjudged.

Firstly one would think that evangelicals are a monolithic movement for this "takeover" to be going on. Whereas in fact they're a bigger bunch of splitters than the Popular Front for the Liberation of Judea. Put two evangelicals in a room and you'll get three opinions. There's a reason why there were twenty or so Methodist denominations in this country - sincerely held beliefs in disagreement. And a reason why there's now so few - decline. Evangelicals don't do detailed agreement.

Secondly because it's expressed as a communications issue. The world is looking for meaning, and how can it get it from people who have found something truly meaningful, appears to be the question.

Thirdly is a kind of combination of Firstly and Secondly. If the evangelicals are now taking over, but people already lack the spiritual framework to find meaning in life - then whose fault was that? Which movement was in charge of the Church of England, all those years when society was losing its spiritual vision? Because apparently it wasn't the evangelicals.  They're   only just taking over now. Anyone want to volunteer to take that blame?

 Fourthly, it wasn't evangelicals that invented tea lights and pebbles in Church. It was, for the most part, certain liberals who wanted the spiritual experience of the catholics and evangelicals, but without all that baggage of having to believe too much. Why   would an evangelical waste their time with cutting out cardboard flames when there's spiritual battles to  fight and Good News to share? Why, for  that matter, would a catholic waste their time lighting a tea light for beauty spiritual connection when there's 6 foot candles and God in organic form on the altar?

So an evangelical takeover of the C of E would  mean a believing, eager, Gospel -sharing presence in every part of England. Far more open than their brothers (and sisters) of the same description in the US (or even  other English churches). Maybe something looking like a  hope for the country. It won't happen of course. Not at Canterbury -speed. There's still churches in the Church of England that are basically pretending the Reformation didn't happen, after all.

 Give it  ten years. Then we'll have someone complaining the liberals have taken over again.




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Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Saturday, 28 April 2018

Ritual for Ed Balls Day

Archdruid: Ed Balls to you.

All: And Ed Balls to you too.

Hymn: Ed Balls with a Grateful Heart

Archdruid: Ed Balls

Hnaef: Ed Balls

Charlii: Ed Balls

Young Keith: Ed Balls

Burton Dasset: It's not true about the bogies, you know.

All: YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO SAY ED BALLS.

Burton: Oh, OK. Ed Balls.

Stacy Bushes: Ed Balls.

Ed Balls: Ed Balls.

Hymn: Ed Ball's Confession of Why He Tweeted That Tweet: "Yvette, I've had a few. But then again...."

Archdruid: May the joy of Ed Balls day be with you every day.

All: And Balls to you too.



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

A Shocking GDPR Revelation

Young Keith has now finally managed to explain to me that "GDPR" is not a former soviet republic, but instead a regulation on how organisations manage personal data. This being the case it appears that we are an organisation and I am a "Data Controller". Doesn't sound as impressive as Archdruid, but whatever.

So I am hereby letting all Beaker Folk know about the data we hold on them.

You remember all those times we have creatively used a "sin shredder" to represent the way in which are sins are totally forgotten? You may remember the way it did for poor old "Rubbles", the Hamster of Atonement. Well, after the unfortunate incident with Rubbles, we agreed we needed a more creative way to deal with the sins that had been shredded up. One that would not cause an innocent rodent to die terribly.

And so we've been sticking them back together each time. And I now have a comprehensive list of the individual sins of everyone in the Beaker Folk. And that includes you, "Phantom Bogie Flicker". Or as I should now call you, Burton.

You will no doubt be thinking that, in the circumstances, you should go and complain to somebody about this terrible abuse of the information you thought you had been blotted from history. Well, should you do anything like that, be aware that the Avenging Angel (me) will be only too happy to gather from the Recording Angel (Hnaef) exactly why it is you'll wish you had done no such thing.

In the meantime, I am happy to declare that tomorrow is Freewill Offering Day. I'm sure you will be only too pleased to ensure this is the most generous day in the history of this event. Won't you, person who'll be wishing he'd never booked that one-night stay in a Premier Inn in Burnley?



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Friday, 27 April 2018

Learning from Amber Rudd

I've had people asking some awkward questions regarding the "duck pond" incident. But the good news is, I've got some advice from Amber Rudd. So I'd like to make the following clear:

I said I never knew 20% of the people working in the Doily Shed were thrown in the duck pond. So I said that 20% of people working in the Doily Shed weren't thrown in the duck pond. It actually turns out that 20% of the people working in the Doily Shed were thrown in the duck pond. This is a coincidence. I didn't know. How could I know? Just because my room overlooks the duck pond. And there's a fence around the duck pond. With a gate to which I have the only key.

Then I said that nobody had ever told me about the policy of throwing people in the duck pond. Emails have now emerged in which Young Keith told me "I've successfully thrown them all in the duck pond, in accordance with the policy." So OK maybe I did know something about it. But it's not my fault. I was probably busy.

Some people have claimed I specifically ordered the policy of throwing people in the duck pond. Nothing could be farther from the truth. And just because someone has found a memo I wrote saying "It's really important that 20% of the people who work in the Doily Shed be thrown in the duck pond," that should not be taken as evidence that I have ever ordered people to be thrown in the duck pond. Or, at least, not that specific duck pond. I never said which duck pond.



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Thursday, 26 April 2018

Why a Priest Stands Quietly With Their Eyes Glazed While Setting up For Communion

It's that moment, before the "Communion" part of an Anglican service, just as the table is being set out (unless of the bread-roll variety of evangelicalism) when the priest stands quietly, with her/his eyes apparently glazed, and looks very serious.

You may think they're having an extra special prayer that the whole thing goes well. And you may well be right. There's a good chance that they're praying they don't knock anything over, or their knee doesn't lock during a genuflection. These things prey on priests' minds. Or will from now on if they're read this.

But the other thing they're doing is of some seriousness as well. They're working out how many wafers to consecrate.

They need to try and get it right. Sufficient to feed everyone and, if of a more Catholic tendency, to reserve some wafers. But not so many that, at the end of the service, somebody has a substantial number to consume so as not to leave dozens in the ciborium* for next time.

So what they are thinking is as follows:
Number of adults I can see 
Minus that person who comes up for a blessing 
Plus the number of children that have been confirmed, or their parents used to go to a Baptist church so they always used to receive there so I let them here. Even though I haven't actually baptised them. I wonder if they were baptised at their old church? Or before? I'll move on.
Minus roughly half of any visitors, as they may be Catholics or non-recipients or unaware what a Communion service is.
They all know I'm not really good enough to be a priest.
Add 7% for people I can't see because they are behind pillars, staggeringly late, sleeping on their pews or hiding.
Nearly forgot myself. Plus one.
Somebody helpful has just given me a tiny piece of paper on which is written "59". Or is it "65?"  
Minus 20 for the ones they brought up.
Minus for the priest's wafer.
Plus the number to reserve for the forthcoming week.
Plus 5% margin of error. 
Carry the 6...
And the problem, of course, is that most clergy, if they have degrees, have them in arts and humanities. This sum is very hard. So they have to do it three times.

And that's why they stand there so long, quietly, with their eyes glazed, apparently rapt in prayer.
* The little chalice-shaped vessel with a lid, in which wafers are reserved for the sick and/or adoration according to choice.


Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.

Wednesday, 25 April 2018

Doing Without Galileo

News that Britain is going to build its equivalent of Galileo, the EU SatNav system, has galvanised the Beaker Folk into activity.

See, it's pretty obvious that existing SatNav technology is overdoing it. All that triangulation and geostationary stuff is just typical Gallic over-complexity.

I mean, what is SatNav basically about? People at position A wanting to go to place B.

Under the Brexit SatNav, which we'll be calling BeakerNet, anybody needing assistance on a journey will call a premium rate number and let us know their destination.

Let us suppose you're in Luton and want to go to Northampton. Some would call this only a minor improvement, but come with us on this. You will let our Beaker Homebase know this fact. And in the Beaker Balloon, tethered three miles above Husborne Crawley, Young Keith will find the giant sign saying 'Northampton' and stick it on the underside of the balloon - hopefully the right way round.

You can already see the benefits. There's no annoying SatNav voice. No satellite dead spots. OK, it'll be tricky when you pass Junction 13 and the blimp is directly overhead. But soon it will be in your rear view mirror and you'll be safely on your way. If you've not driven into one of those new warehouses due to a crick in the neck.

And the really great news is, we'll be using giant sign posts in the traditional "fingerpost" style. Which means the BeakerNet gives you the experience of driving in a SteamPunk version of 1920s Sussex. And if that's not what Brexit was all about I don't know what was.

BeakerNet. The Brits-only SatNav. You won. Get over it.

Tuesday, 24 April 2018

A Right Royal Corbyn Silence

The Express reports that Jeremy Corbyn failed to congratulate the Royal Family on the birth of little Throgmorton, or whatever they're going to call him.

Personally I'm shocked. He could at least have mentioned that Harry and Meghan or whoever the parents are, are now up to three children and therefore won't qualify for extra family allowance. Poor souls must be wondering how they'll make ends meet.

Getting in Touch With the Wild Wood

One of the great things about the Beaker Folk is that, although extremely handy for Junction 13 of the M1, we're also in a really nice rural location. Getting out in the wilds really puts us in touch with our primal nature. The mushroomy smell of mushrooms, the tree-y nature of trees - they all remind us of our natural place in the order of things.

So I have to say, today's foraging for wild garlic was great. We found so much on Aspley Heath that the rangers have slapped a court injunction on us.

In other news, does anyone know where the Allen keys for the window locks have gone? I think we're gonna need them.

Monday, 23 April 2018

Obituary: Revd Ali Brightside

Sad news about my old friend, Ali Brightside of the Wilbywell Benefice.

She was always so cheerful. Her motto was that life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the rain.

She was tragically struck by lightning on Saturday night.

Sunday, 22 April 2018

Shepherd and Sheep

When I was younger - not young, just younger - I was very fond of a range of crockery called "Shepherd and Sheep". I was particularly fond of the "Breakfast Mug". Mostly because it was huge. You could take a swim in that mug, imbibing coffee as you went round in circles until, when you had drunk it all,  you wondered how you would climb out.

OK. It may have grown in my memory. But it was a seriously sized coffee mug. Capable of giving great emotional support. Sadly, unlike Beryl crockery, which is immortal and will alone survive the heat death of the universe, my mug was broken. I miss it.

Beaker Sheep. Or are they goats?

The sheep on the mug weren't your actual Herdwicks, Leicesters and Swaledales however. Though these are all very popular in modern culture, on posters, mugs and Twitter. No, these were yer fluffy, "cloud on four sticks" sheep.

And you know - and I know - that sheep aren't really big fluffy cotton wool balls. Though they're fine things to see, a herd in a nice rolling middle England field. Sheep are real creatures, with an interesting range of diseases, able to get themselves into all kinds of scrapes and yet incapable of getting themselves off their backs if  they topple over. Which is rather a design flaw.

 But maybe we unconsciously make  that same kind of assumption when we think of Jesus  the  Good Shepherd.The stained glass of a caring chap holding the one lost sheep - which is in fact a lamb, for maximum effect.

Now I can't say I've ever lived the life of a shepherd. When I was young my family were friends with a shepherd and his family. And we played on their farm, and fell in the river there. But I never really knew much about what life was like as the shepherd. Maybe because the farm they lived on was haunted by the ghost of a highwaywoman, and when you've got that bit of information you don't pay much attention to the more mundane details.

But I've read Far from the Madding Crowd - which goes back to a time before shepherds started using quad bikes, and even before the modern border collie was developed. So I can tell you what the life of a shepherd was like, a bit. It was pretty brutal. You had to be up all night in the early months of the year, in case a ewe had trouble giving birth. If a ewe did lose her lamb, the shepherd would skin it and wrap the skin round a twin from another ewe, so the bereaved ewe would accept it. You had to deal with dark and danger and loneliness. And your life was utterly caught up in the sheep's. When Gabriel Oak loses his sheep, he's effectively made his life hopeless.
Not to be trusted

And that's where Jesus is the Good Shepherd. Not just wandering by still waters and green pastures - though it's good when we're there. But in amongst valley of the shadow of death - in the dark times. In the dark places. A good shepherd was with the sheep through the cold and fear of a long winter night. The Good Shepherd cares for the sheep so much, that to save the sheep he's prepared to die for them.

And so that's the relationship that Jesus has with us. A guide, a protector, a comfort - and one who is alongside us. In sunny pastures and dark valleys, sunny days and dark nights - till we're called home for the last time, to live in his house, and look upon his face forever.



Want to support this blog?
Want a good laugh? Want to laugh at the church? Want to be secretly suspicious that the author has been sitting in your church committee meetings taking notes? Then Writes of the Church: Gripes and grumbles of people in the pews is probably the book for you.

From Amazon, Sarum Bookshop, The Bible Readers Fellowship and other good Christian bookshops. An excellent book for your churchgoing friends, relatives or vicar. By the creator of the Beaker Folk.