THE relentless and now catastrophic decline of Christianity in Britain, which amounts to its virtual disappearance, has not been thrust upon the Church as some dreadful form of persecution. The Church has willed its own destruction; a final catalyst applied by our monarch who has formally abdicated his authority as Defender of the Faith. But the Church itself has been complicit in its own obliteration. It has co-operated enthusiastically with the forces which sought its destruction.
It is shocking to see that the former Archbishop of Canterbury, Rowan Williams, has been a significant contributor to this betrayal. Whereas as a leader – the leader – of the Church of England, he should have been vigilant and active in the promotion of Christian formation, he has instead denigrated, deplored and undermined the Church’s purpose. Williams said, notoriously, disgracefully and iconoclastically: ‘The Church has a lot of catching up to do with secular values.’
In so saying, Williams spoke for the whole leadership of today’s Church. He merely gave his archiepiscopal voice to the secularised orthodoxy over which he presided. The English Church, as traditionally understood, has for all practical purposes, resigned. Edward Norman, then Dean of York, wrote in his book Secularisation: ‘Christianity is not being rejected in modern society – what is causing the decline of public support for the Church is the insistence of Church leaders themselves in representing secular enthusiasm for humanity as core-Christianity.’
That’s it in a nutshell. For two generations these hirelings and blind guides – those whom Norman calls ‘this elite of self-conscious social progressivism’ – have imagined that the Church would prosper if it became less religious. Whereas in fact at every stage in the secularising, dumbing-down process – including the virtual abolition of the Authorised Version ofthe Bibleand The Book of Common Prayer and their replacement by inferior texts which are alternately risible and blasphemous – there has followed relentless desertion from the pews. And the church has deliberately and assiduously rescinded its position as the moral guide, teacher and conscience of the nation.
Why can’t the bishops and the liberal elite who control the General Synod see that when you are in a hole you should stop digging? Again, the answer is simple and straightforward: because they like their hole, they feel at home it in it, and they will strive endlessly to make it bigger because they stupidly mistake their miserable hole for a goldmine. So their recipe for the restoration and growth which they routinely and fatuously promise is yet more of the policies which have failed not once but time and again. For example, a few years ago the General Synod passed a resolution allowing priests to wear lounge suits at the altar instead of the traditional vestments. That didn’t bring the missing millions flocking back. People want religion to be religious: they want powerful, sonorous liturgies; inspiring music; insightful theological sermons which refresh the parts which the jogging for Jesus happy-clappy ‘worship leaders’ can’t reach. If you want proof of that, just look at the success being enjoyed by the Eastern Orthodox Church in which the services are traditionally framed and where the clergy speak as if they believe in God. Norman says: ‘Once Christ has been represented as primarily concerned with justice and welfare, rather than with sin and corruption, the equation of his religion with the leading tenets of modern humanism is easily effected.’
He reminds us that secularised relativism of the faith has got into our schools as well: ‘Because of sensitivity over ethnic issues and a very proper desire to give no offence to the non-white adherents of Hinduism or Islam, these other world religions, taught as a required part of the curriculum, are presented to the children in a wholly uncritical manner, whereas Christianity is often hedged about with all kinds of reservations touching its supposedly tainted record in social issues and similar matters.’
Christianity is no longer being taught as if it were true, but one lifestyle option among many. Indoctrination is a word now used only in a pejorative sense and no attempt is being made to teach people what Christianity is, what its doctrines are. Instead, ‘Religion now is a species of personal therapy.’
Norman is bewildered to the point of utter incomprehension as to how this has been allowed to happen: ‘Why does the Church seek to associate itself so closely with the ideals of plural society? Through most of its history, in fact, the leaders of Christianity – like the leaders of Judaism and Islam – have taught exactly the reverse.’
The whole of society is affected as wokery is leading us inexorably towards ‘something that used to be called totalitarianism. The state has begun to regulate huge areas of social exchange once regarded as exclusively within the determination of individuals. The state, instead of being a neutral arbiter between the competing elements of the social pluralism, is actively engaged in a collectivist explosion of legislative promotion of approved attitudes and practices’.
Norman’s bewilderment turns to controlled, superbly expressed fury as he rails against ‘most terrible of all, the Church’s lack of holiness. Everything has become so informal that the dignity and solemnity of studying the truth of Christ have been lost, and the priceless reservoirs of learning which once supplied the aspirants to Christian service have run into the sands.’
The fundamental tragic catastrophe is that all this has not fallen upon the Church through the machinations of external enemies, but it has willed its own destruction. The image is of apostasy and betrayal. The Church no longer understands human nature. It refuses to teach the uncomfortable doctrine of Original Sin and so, of course, it cannot go on to preach the forgiveness of sins.
Norman concludes: ‘The religion which Christ came to deliver is about the inability of men and women to put what is wrong with themselves right. It is about human sin, and the flawed nature of each person which renders everyone incapable of self-redemption. But the Body of the Lord, the Church, is still in the world institutionally, and those whose duty, as members of that body, is to preserve the purity and authenticity of Christ’s truth need to direct their mission to the Christian remnant in England.’
Pigs might fly.
I have wearied readers for too long in my explanation of how and why things have reached such a dismal condition of decay, and I shall give the rest of this essay to trying to say how we might continue in genuine and sincere religious faith even after the church’s institutional collapse. The truth is that for all the machinations of the secularisers and the gang of apostate bishops misled by Rowan Williams and all the other iconoclasts, transcendence is and remains real. Transcendence is real – hang on to that! And although the faith is influenced by cultural changes and and societal forces, it is not – pace Emil Durkheim, Max Weber and David Martin – merely a function of such changes and forces. The Christian narrative, creeds, sacraments, art, music and sensibility are still available, valid and usable by anyone who will turn to them. You will perhaps forgive me if I end with a paraphrase of Oscar Wilde: we may have been left in a ditch, but we can still look to the heavens.
