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I go to church not for God but for humanity I go to church not for God but for humanity
(7 months later)
I went to church on Sunday, wondering again why I do this. It's not for an experience of the sublime. Transfiguring sunsets, quiet rivers and even choral evensong will all deliver an overwhelming aesthetic dissolution into the world much more reliably than an Anglican village service where the choir is robed but fluffs its cues, and the hymns run the whole gamut from Victorian pretension to late 20th century banality.I went to church on Sunday, wondering again why I do this. It's not for an experience of the sublime. Transfiguring sunsets, quiet rivers and even choral evensong will all deliver an overwhelming aesthetic dissolution into the world much more reliably than an Anglican village service where the choir is robed but fluffs its cues, and the hymns run the whole gamut from Victorian pretension to late 20th century banality.
If I valued church services primarily for their beauty and their ability to transform the world I see around me, I would consider them as inadequate substitutes for Radio 3. But I don't. I value them in an odd and awkward way which has little or nothing to do with belief and which in fact always seems to involve a reassertion of unbelief.If I valued church services primarily for their beauty and their ability to transform the world I see around me, I would consider them as inadequate substitutes for Radio 3. But I don't. I value them in an odd and awkward way which has little or nothing to do with belief and which in fact always seems to involve a reassertion of unbelief.
The service I had been to was a fairly traditional Church of England communion service in the prosperous commuter country north of Oxford. Rebekah Brooks has a house in the next village, and the local MP – Tory, of course – was in the congregation, along with a great granddaughter of Winston Churchill. If people were here for secular reasons, it would have been from a sense of social obligation rather than from the desire to squeeze into a church-run state school. Going to church and taking communion is what they do for love.The service I had been to was a fairly traditional Church of England communion service in the prosperous commuter country north of Oxford. Rebekah Brooks has a house in the next village, and the local MP – Tory, of course – was in the congregation, along with a great granddaughter of Winston Churchill. If people were here for secular reasons, it would have been from a sense of social obligation rather than from the desire to squeeze into a church-run state school. Going to church and taking communion is what they do for love.
Even in villages like this, the Church of England now persists from willed choices rather than habit. The vicar was a woman and the sermon was delivered as a lively dialogue with the New Testament scholar Paula Gooder. I knelt with all the others, trying, as usual, to feel my way into the thought world around me. What could it be like to take seriously the forgiveness of sins, and not just trust they will eventually be forgotten? As I knelt there, I very clearly and from nowhere remembered the thoughtless, self-satisfied cruelty with which I abandoned someone 30 years ago.Even in villages like this, the Church of England now persists from willed choices rather than habit. The vicar was a woman and the sermon was delivered as a lively dialogue with the New Testament scholar Paula Gooder. I knelt with all the others, trying, as usual, to feel my way into the thought world around me. What could it be like to take seriously the forgiveness of sins, and not just trust they will eventually be forgotten? As I knelt there, I very clearly and from nowhere remembered the thoughtless, self-satisfied cruelty with which I abandoned someone 30 years ago.
Of course, it's always possible to translate forgetfulness as grace and as a kind of healing. As Francis Spufford argues in Unapologetic, almost the only way in which Christianity can appear real and convincing today is by starting from patterns of experience that must be described without traditional religious language at all. Only once the experience has been recovered and recognised can the old, tattered words be placed on it, rather as damaged embroideries are placed on a fresh background where their pattern becomes suddenly clear and they can be repaired.Of course, it's always possible to translate forgetfulness as grace and as a kind of healing. As Francis Spufford argues in Unapologetic, almost the only way in which Christianity can appear real and convincing today is by starting from patterns of experience that must be described without traditional religious language at all. Only once the experience has been recovered and recognised can the old, tattered words be placed on it, rather as damaged embroideries are placed on a fresh background where their pattern becomes suddenly clear and they can be repaired.
I'm happy to kneel in prayer even though I can't believe there's anyone out there: not even the congregation, who are too busy lost in their own ritual. But it's a cure for haste and pride and self-pity just to wait and listen, even if there is no one to hear. I even went up to the communion rail to take a blessing. Why not? What harm can blessing do? I don't suppose that most, or any, of the congregation were theologians, and in any case I am never quite sure what theology means: it always appears to me as a purely rhetorical performance. So I didn't wonder what it was like to believe in the Trinity, or even the resurrection, or any of the miracles. I've no idea if anyone in the church was really capable of such things, in any sense that I can understand.I'm happy to kneel in prayer even though I can't believe there's anyone out there: not even the congregation, who are too busy lost in their own ritual. But it's a cure for haste and pride and self-pity just to wait and listen, even if there is no one to hear. I even went up to the communion rail to take a blessing. Why not? What harm can blessing do? I don't suppose that most, or any, of the congregation were theologians, and in any case I am never quite sure what theology means: it always appears to me as a purely rhetorical performance. So I didn't wonder what it was like to believe in the Trinity, or even the resurrection, or any of the miracles. I've no idea if anyone in the church was really capable of such things, in any sense that I can understand.
Still, when it comes to the creeds, I just can't say them. I can't even see what it might mean if they aren't true. "I believe in God the father, maker of heaven and earth" – no, I don't; and I don't see this changes anything at all about the universe.Still, when it comes to the creeds, I just can't say them. I can't even see what it might mean if they aren't true. "I believe in God the father, maker of heaven and earth" – no, I don't; and I don't see this changes anything at all about the universe.
Safer by far to go to the Quakers, and sit in attentive silence for at least half an hour – until the Holy Spirit prompts one of them to talk. I wish he wouldn't. I lack the seriousness to make a real Quaker even without the theological commitments. But I do believe we ought to love our neighbours, even when they are miserable, absurd or embarrassing. There's no place better than a church for being with people who make you feel slightly ashamed, and a little more human.Safer by far to go to the Quakers, and sit in attentive silence for at least half an hour – until the Holy Spirit prompts one of them to talk. I wish he wouldn't. I lack the seriousness to make a real Quaker even without the theological commitments. But I do believe we ought to love our neighbours, even when they are miserable, absurd or embarrassing. There's no place better than a church for being with people who make you feel slightly ashamed, and a little more human.
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