Author: Tony

I guess lots of average churchgoers struggle, more or less, with the church they attend. Some may have shopped around for a church that was the least worst of options in their locality – or, if they were lucky, perhaps even the best match with what they hope for in a church. Others may not have the luxury of choice, and end up in the only church it’s at all feasible for them to attend. And they end up putting up with whatever’s on offer. I suspect that most lay people assume that, even if they have to compromise and make sacrifices, at least the clergy and other worship leaders have it just the way they want it to be.

Well, it ain’t necessarily so. Even though the clergy may have the greatest influence on what the worship is like, most of them would say there are so many variables, that it’s still never 100% how they would like it. The involvement and enthusiasm of the congregation are never in your control. They don’t sing with enough enthusiasm, they say the congregational bits too fast or too slow, they don’t arrive early enough to get into a suitable prayerful frame of mind. The layout and furnishings of the building may have been fit for purpose 500 years ago, but today!? The quality of the music depends on who is available to provide it, their skills and interest and personal preferences. So the clergy too have to make compromises, and put up with the way things are.

Nevertheless, I was more than happy with the worship at Marston and Elsfield. It wasn’t perfect, but it nourished me and many others during the 25 years and more that I was responsible for it. The music in particular was a joy, thanks to the dedication of the four organists I worked with, the choir(s) and music group. When we started a Junior Choir, it was a huge boost to the whole of our music, and numbers of those lovely young people who started in our choir have gone on to other things, singing in Oxford college choirs and even cathedral choirs. I was proud of the way the music developed during my time as Vicar, even though I had little to do with actually making it happen.

And then, of course, you have to move on, or in my case retire. And suddenly you’re not in the driving seat any more, you’re just another bum on a pew.

The one thing I’m sure I can say without contradiction, to any soon-to-be-retiring clergyperson, is: Wherever you end up in church, they won’t do things properly. I suppose it’s remotely possible you may find yourself in a place where something in the worship is so amazing that you say to yourself, I wonder why I never thought of doing it like that? But it doesn’t happen very often.¹ So there’s a steep learning curve, about Letting Go and Letting Be, and learning either to put up with or love the way it is done in your new place of worship.

There are blessings along the way. We have learned some new things, and learning new things is good when you retire. We’ve found a loving and friendly welcome, from lots of people who are not only nice but good – their compassion and generosity put me to shame. We always preached the importance of being part of one’s local parish church, rather than looking around for something more congenial, and we have been blessed to be able to do that (in spite of some of the niggles). We have been touched by the way that the clergy value us simply being there; as if our mere presence is an encouragement, a support to them.

And so, we are here because this is the place we believe God has called us to be. Which is the best way, and the best place, to be.

1. It happened quite a lot during my last two years in the parish, when I was blessed with a brilliant young colleague and was constantly thinking, I wonder why I’ve never done it like that? ↩

37 years in parish ministry. And I never once wanted to be in any other church or denomination: through all the ups and downs, the changes and chances, of four decades (if you include three years of training beforehand) the Church of England was my chosen and undoubted home. Even when two successive appointments were in Local Ecumenical Projects, as they were called back then, I was never tempted to jump ship and leave the C of E. Quite the reverse: it was ecumenism I lost faith in.

And yet, when those 37 years came to an end in retirement, I found that one of the strongest things I was feeling was just pissed off with the Church of England. I was weary, weary of the endless wrangling about sex, the nonsense of continuing to ordain men who don’t accept the ministry of women, the disobedience of the powerful Evangelical churches and clergy both to the Church and, I would maintain, to the Bible they claim to believe.

When I first came to an active faith, as a student, I took a very ‘traditional’ view of Scripture as well. If the Bible said homosexual practice was wrong, that settled the matter. One of the decisive issues was not just the scriptural prohibitions in Leviticus and elsewhere, but the sense that homosexuality was ‘unnatural’ because it didn’t fit the Genesis account of God creating human beings male and female, so that they would be suitable partners for each other.

So, what changed my mind, over the years? First, life. The experience of getting to know gay Christians, and perhaps even more of knowing Christian parents of gay children, who instead of rejecting them had accepted them and their sexuality. It became clear that they were not rebelling against nature, but that ‘gay’ simply was their nature, it was the way God had created them. Forcing themselves to be other than gay would simply be disobedience to how God willed them to be. And they had just as great a desire and need for love, and to find a helpmate to share their life, as anyone else.

The second thing that changed my mind, was reflection on the way we use Scripture. It’s quite clear that throughout the history of the Church, not every single verse has been understood literally, not every single injunction literally obeyed. So how does the Church decide which bits don’t need to be taken literally, and why? Changed social circumstances, greater scientific understanding of how the created world and human nature actually work, deeper insight into how the Bible came to us, and what it means. Even the deepest-dyed Evangelicals have let go of many beliefs which were once held to be evident from Scripture, usually because it became clear to the body of Christ that a literal interpretation simply didn’t fit with the facts of life, or with the overall sense and direction of the Bible as a whole.

So why are they holding on to their absolute prohibition of homosexual practice, and condemnation of homosexual people, on the strength of a very small number of texts? Texts, moreover, which can all be called in question by

• our deeper scientific and psychological understanding of human sexuality
• the overall sweep of the biblical narrative, in the direction of God’s inclusive love and acceptance of all people, whoever and however they are.

It looks like it’s not about interpreting and obeying Scripture, and it’s not even about knowing and doing what God wants. It looks like what it’s really about, is their own fears, hang-ups, frustrations and desires about sex in general, and their own sexuality in particular. That’s the only way I can account for the irrational passion and the sheer vitriol of the way they express their views and attack those who disagree with them. Or am I missing something?