What Labour Party divisions can teach church denominations

Yesterday, The Guardian reported that over 50 Labour MPs plan to defy Jeremy Corbyn's stance on a British military intervention in Syria. The Labour leader has made no secret of his opposition to a bombing campaign. Corbyn's supporters, such as Diane Abbott and John McDonnell, have gone on record backing his stance. They too reject a bombing campaign, with Abbott in particular vociferous in her criticism of those who plan to defy the party leader. What is abundantly clear is that not all those who belong to the Labour Party reside within the same political camp as their current head.

The parallels with the Church are striking. For not all those who associate with the Church belong in the same camp as its head. Both Jesus (cf. Mt 7:21-23) and Peter (cf. 2 Pet 2:1-3) make this clear enough. Jesus tells us that we will recognise those who are his by the fruit expressed in their lives (Mt 7:15-20). Elsewhere, the fruit that Jesus expects is clear enough: "if you love me, you will keep my commandments" (John 14:15). The one who is the head of the church expects those who really belong to the church to actually keep his commands.

Hand wringing by centrist MPs over whether to remain in the Labour Party are reminiscent of various internal denominational battles between theologically conservative and liberal wings. Significant internal differences within the denominations have been dealt with in a variety of ways; from the perennial splits upon splits within Presbyterianism to the staunch refusal to leave the Church of England despite fundamental, insurmountable differences between those who purport to have communion. Other denominations have worked such things through in a plethora of different ways, from complete isolationism to an emphasis on non-denominational gospel partnerships.

Until the Labour Party can form a direction around which the MPs will unite, it will continue to face these same problems over and again. Likewise, though a wholly pure church is the world of fantasy, churches would do well to heed the lessons being played out in Labour Party politics. Denominations, gospel partnerships and associations can only press forward when those seeking to work together are united in purpose and agree on certain core beliefs and values. Without such agreement, partnerships and denominations will forever find themselves unable to move forward. Jesus said something like that (cf. Mark 3:24f).

The problem with our fellowship and four ways to improve it

If there is a song that sums up visiting certain new churches, Pop Song 89 by REM does a pretty good job.

It's a sort of stilted conversation that sadly seems to take place all too often. We so rarely have much to say to visitors (or, dare I say, regular members) that efforts to be friendly, and it does so often feel like effort, descend into this type of thing.

If we think REM lay it on thick, The Smith's How Soon is Now cuts rather closer to the bone:

Though the song revolves around the chronic shyness of the protagonist (the existence of such people many churches have yet to wake up to and simply don't know how to handle them), the following lyrics capture the experience of many:


"There's a club if you'd like to go you could meet somebody who really loves you so you go, and you stand on your own and you leave on your own and you go home, and you cry and you want to die."

This experience extends well beyond the four walls of church buildings. Countless similar stories float around Christian conferences, fraternals and other inter-church gatherings. I have lost count of the number of times I have heard people tell me how lonely they feel at such meetings and events. Sometimes the loneliest place in the world is amongst a crowd of other people.

I recall being invited to one meeting, entering the room, standing like a total lemon on my own whilst everybody else "networked" around me. I tried to engage a few folk in conversation where it was clear that talking to this no-mark oik - who was unlikely to do anything to advance their standing within the Christian world - was not high on their agenda. I found myself going and standing on my own, leaving on my own, going home and wanting to cry. It is made so much worse when one thinks these people should know better. Among Christians, especially among Christian leaders, these things should not be.

There is clearly nothing wrong with seeking beneficial links and finding other like-minded people with whom we can work together. In fact, the Bible encourages such things. But all too often, it descends into mere networking - akin to some professional business meeting - and becomes more about what is useful to me rather than mutual support and encouragement. In the worst cases, it becomes little more than crass self-advancement. How many links can I make? How much can I make of myself? If you are a "big name" I will make every effort to speak to you, if you are unknown you are not worthy of my time.

As a pastor, an inherent part of my job is meeting new people. It is networking, making connections with others, getting to know other ministers and Christian workers. In all honesty, it is a side of my job for which I feel ill-equipped and I do not relish. Not that I don't like meeting new people, or making new friends, or working together with others (I do) but I really struggle in this environment. It makes me feel uncomfortable and clashes with both my inherent introversion and my upbringing which emphasised never pushing oneself forward (1). It is only once I have warmed up to people, once we have gotten to know one another a little better, that I begin to feel comfortable and more able to be myself.

Whether at big conferences, fraternals, inter-church meetings, gospel partnerships or ordinary church meetings, here are four basic things we can all do to make our fellowship a bit better.

First, don't just speak to those who can do something for you. This includes only talking to new people so you can be spotted by your elders and leaders. Visitors and congregants are not there so you can clock when the pastor is watching so you'll be in line for that leadership position that just opened up. James certainly has something to say about preferring some people over others. Our friendliness, our help and our interest should not be partial. Talking to those who can do nothing for us is just as important as speaking to those who can. Our churches, denominations, fraternals and conferences are not just there for our own empire building projects. Nor are they there for our own personal advancement. If Christ died for you despite you being unable to do anything for him, we should be prepared to take an interest in those who can do nothing for us.

Second, take a real interest in the people to whom you speak. Just because you avoid the trap of ignoring those who can do nothing for you doesn't inoculate us against against the problem of showing absolutely no interest in them. Saying "hello" and having a conversation is of no value if we clearly aren't interested. If we look around the room for others to speak with, or are even as crass as to say, "I really want to talk to the elder/pastor/speaker" (as has happened on more than one occasion, in more than one church, to me), then our conversation will not give the impression we are bothered.

Third, don't just palm the person you are talking to off on someone else unless you really are committed to something else. Nothing says "I'm not interested" faster than a few cold nods and an immediate "have you met John?" Of course, there are times when we really do have other things that absolutely need to be done. But apologising, explaining and then introducing them to someone else will help far more than simply palming them off with no explanation. And no, wanting to talk to someone else more than the person you are speaking to, does not count as something more pressing!

Four, talk about things that actually matter. I have never been much of one for small talk. It is, for want of a better word, small. I am more interested in big things and enjoy talking to people who want to discuss big things too. I warm very quickly to people who are happy to jump straight to the big, weighty things. I suspect most others find superficiality a little dissatisfying too. By big things, I don't just mean weighty matters of theology, philosophy and politics (though they are big things that interest me). I mean talking with people about the big things that matter to them, whatever those things may be. To quote REM "should we talk about the weather" isn't really what it's all about.

Notes

1. To push yourself forward was (rightly or wrongly) often associated with arrogance. I suspect there is often a class thing going on too with middle class folk seemingly far more comfortable taking the initiative than me (I prefer to doff my cap and keep quiet)

On the historic apology

It can't have escaped your notice that the unstoppable runaway train that is Jeremy Corbyn's Labour leadership bid has been a rich vein of material for this blog of late (see here and here). And today is no exception. In today's Guardian, Corbyn announces that if he becomes leader he will apologise on behalf of the Labour Party for the (most recent) military intervention in Iraq.

I dared to reply to the Guardian twitter update with the following:

@guardian why? He was one of very few who have zero need to apologise!

— Stephen Kneale (@steve_kneale) August 20, 2015

This led to a small twitter-spat (as these things tend to do) which I will not bother boring you with here (for those interested in such things, you can find it here).

This got me thinking about the value of historic and symbolic apologies. On one side of this discussion are those who think they are a symbolic show of future intent. Never mind that Jeremy Corbyn consistently voted against the Iraq war, it doesn't matter that he himself always opposed it, as leader of the Labour Party he would be making an important symbolic gesture moving forward. On the other side of the debate are those who think it is a totally valueless act. His future intent is clear enough when he called for Tony Blair to be tried as a war criminal and has consistently and repeatedly voiced his opposition to military intervention. If the word 'sorry' conveys contrition and remorse, how can those uninvolved in a felony, and who consistently stood against the action, show such penitence? I fall into the latter of these two camps.

Symbolism is only really valid when the symbol applies to the one associating themselves with it. I am sure scores of Iraqi citizens would find value in an apology from the perpetrators. I am far less convinced they will find an apology from a man who consistently voted against the action and has repeatedly and vociferously called out his own government on the decision remotely worthwhile. His views on the issue have been clear from the beginning, remain clear and his plans going forward are no less transparent. An apology under such circumstances is neither symbolic nor meaningful. Only those who are responsible for an act can offer a meaningful apology. An apology from someone who always rejected the action does nothing to change the fact that those responsible are still unrepentant. It is like receiving an apology from the mother of a murderer (who you never held responsible) whilst her son continues to brag publicly about his heinous crime. It is simply a hollow gesture.

That also brings into question the nature of the historic apology altogether. The Japanese Prime Minister, Shinzo Abe, recently apologised to America for Japanese actions during WWII though he has more recently claimed that modern-day Japan shouldn't have to keep apologising for WWII actions. Angela Merkel has made further apologies for German atrocities under the Nazis. And Tony Blair, though unable to apologise for his own actions in Iraq, seems to have no issue apologising for Britain's past involvement in the slave trade and our part in the Irish potato famine.

It is Blair's own apologies that bring into sharp relief the pointlessness of the historic apology. It is easy to say sorry for actions with which we were personally uninvolved and that we have consistently made clear were wrong. There is little doubt in the modern age that virtually everyone in the Western world despises slavery. There are no policy decisions from any party across the political spectrum that suggest, explicitly or implicitly, any desire to return to such days. To apologise for something universally rejected in the West, and for which we bear no personal responsibility, is but a valueless and hollow gesture. We are really apologising on behalf of others which seems to defeat the very purpose of an apology. I can express sorrow and disgust about the actions of others but I cannot be remorseful or penitent on their behalf. An apology is only worth something if there is a recognition of wrongdoing on the part of the perpetrator. For those of us who always rejected the action, apologising on behalf of others does nothing.

It is ludicrous to me that people who openly and repeatedly reject the actions of the Nazis in modern day Germany are expected to continually apologise for something with which they had no part, neither passive nor active. It is silly that a hollow apology from a modern world leader about the horrors of slavery, when they have repeatedly and consistently stated their opposition to it, is deemed of value. It is rather more telling that Tony Blair has no problem whatsoever apologising for historic crimes in which he had no part but cannot bring himself to say sorry for the very real problems his decisions have directly caused for those who are still alive, affected by such things and for whom an apology would be both laden with meaning and of any intrinsic value. It says to me that the only apology worth anything is one from the individuals responsible. It says to me that is a much harder apology to give because it involves owning up, to those affected, to that for which we are personally responsible. It says to me that anyone can express sorrow and remorse for what they have not done; it is much harder to own what we personally and directly have done and admit we were wrong.

It also brings into sharp relief the words of Jesus Christ in Matthew 7:13f: "Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few." Many of us are happy to accept that the way is hard. Jesus also said “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." And so we expect following Jesus to be tough. But we often don't like the fact that "the gate is narrow... and those who find it are few". It is not simply following Christ that is hard but even entering by the gate - a gate that Christ elsewhere makes clear is himself - is also difficult.

Those from other religions may not understand what is so difficult about salvation by faith alone. What on earth could be difficult about that? It is precisely the same thing that is easy about the historic apology and extremely difficult about the current, only valid, one. To come to Christ necessitates an understanding that we are personally responsible for our own sin. It is not an historic crime in which we have no part and remains entirely the fault of Adam, Paul tells us "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Rom 3:23). Without acknowledging our own personal responsibility for the sin that separates us from God, there can be no forgiveness. And there is no denying that accepting responsibility for what we have done, acknowledging that we have not lived as we ought and accepting that we have actively pursued what is wrong is difficult indeed!

It also means - if I must accept personal responsibility for my separation from God - that somebody else cannot be penitent on my behalf. If I am separated from God because of my sin, it is simply no good for my father, mother, brother, sister, friend or colleague to be terribly sorry on my behalf. My personal responsibility has in no way been accepted if I am personally unwilling to seek forgiveness for what I have done. It is only when we accept that we have done wrong and that forgiveness is found in repentance and faith in Christ alone that we can be made right with God. It is something that requires a personal and heartfelt penitence. A meaningful apology - that is true repentance and genuine faith in Christ - are the only means of real forgiveness.

By contrast, historic apologies are neither personal, do not accept responsibility and are not an acceptance of wrongdoing. It is pleading on behalf of another who has potentially shown no remorse whatsoever. If we want the word 'sorry' to mean anything at all, let's please stop insisting we use it on behalf of others.

Tim Farron, illiberalism, bigotry and Evangelicals

This last week I have been on my yearly pilgrimage to Llandudno. It's not so much a site of religious interest as an opportunity for me to serve with United Beach Missions. It is my nearest Beach Mission centre and it is one of very few with the sort of facilities that mean I can bring my family with me too. 

I have spent the last week standing on Llandudno promenade doing public interviews with people about their faith, asking them to share their stories and pressing them to answer questions and objections people may have about the Christian faith. I have also been engaging with non-Christian holidaymakers (NB: only those who actually want to talk, we're happy enough being told to push off) and sharing with them the Christian message of salvation in Jesus Christ. We've also been out delivering short gospel presentations in open air meetings and engaging in public apologetics.

None of that is to say bully for me. Rather, it is to set in context how truly odd such things have become in modern British society. For, as I reacquainted myself with social media and online news output, one particular news item - or one particular angle that kept reappearing in several different stories - seemed prevalent. The story, insofar as it is newsworthy, was the fact that Tim Farron, newly elected leader of the Liberal Democrats, is a Christian. Not only a Christian, but an Evangelical Christian. Not only an Evangelical Christian, but one who is actually prepared to speak about his faith in public.

Gillan Scott, at the Archbishop Cranmer blog, has given a good summary of how several of these interviews have focused not only on Farron's faith but have pressed particular presumed outworkings of his religious beliefs. Specifically, a Channel 4 News interview with Cathy Newman pushed Farron repeatedly on whether he viewed homosexual sex as sinful. Since then, Labour MP and deputy-leadership hopeful Ben Bradshaw has called Farron's approach to gay rights illiberal. Beyond these, The Times has referred to him as an "illiberal democrat", based on little more than the fact he is an Evangelical, and John Humphries pressed him on his Radio 4 Today programme about whether he prayed about different aspects of his job. Some of this interrogation is legitimate - private views will affect what we do in public (unless, of course, you're happy with a Magic FM in the Chilterns kind of faith) - but several things ought to be said.

First, these interviews have only been conducted and focused this way because Farron is an Evangelical. Although occasionally Tony Blair was asked about his faith, very little was ever made of it. David Cameron likewise is asked very little about his Christian beliefs, such as they exist. Moving away from those who identify as Christian in any regard, can you imagine Sajid Javid being asked for his views on particular Qur'anic suras which advocate less than liberal approaches to homosexuals or non-muslim believers? Would Clive Lewis, as chairman of the All Party Parliamentary Humanist Group, be pressed this hard on how his non-belief in a God would affect his moral compass? It is telling that perceptions of what Evangelicalism is persist (1) and such views are often held to a different standard than almost any other view, even among those in parliament.

Second, Tim Farron has been labelled illiberal by those who themselves are being illiberal. Regardless of the rights and wrongs of his position, and despite what Tim Farron's actual views on the sinfulness or otherwise of homosexual sex may be (we may infer what he believes but he hasn't actually said anything about it), Farron has repeatedly stated that he defends equal gay rights. Either, he doesn't think homosexual sex is sinful and he defends gay rights or he does think homosexual sex is sinful but he nevertheless defends gay rights. The first of those may or may not be a liberal position - we all obviously find it easy to make legal or illegal all those things we personally think are right and wrong respectively - but the latter view certainly is liberal. 

At the heart of the liberalism is the view that we don't have to agree, we don't have to be the same, but we can co-exist and defend the rights of one another. It is telling that Ben Bradshaw claims Farron is illiberal for not daring to affirm the moral eminence of homosexuality. In other words, Bradshaw argues you cannot do any other than affirm the moral zeitgeist, all contrary views are verboten. Hardly the words of a thoroughgoing liberal. Farron, on the other hand, defends equality for gay people despite (potentially) personally disagreeing with them. That is surely the same sort of liberal position as anyone who is not a Muslim, and disagrees with swathes of Islamic theology and praxis, yet doesn't believe Islam must be forcibly renounced by legal dictate. True Liberalism defends your entitlement to your view, it defends your equality in law, despite our disagreeing over the issue at hand. It is utterly wrong to suggest Tim Farron is illiberal for (potentially) disagreeing with homosexuality but defending homosexual rights in law. It is surely illiberal to say he cannot hold such a view. 

Farron was absolutely clear that "to understand the Christian faith is to understand we're all sinners". It is evidently not his view that, as we're all sinners, we should all go to prison. It is clearly not his view that, as we're all sinners, none of us should have any rights in law. Even if his view on homosexual sex (yet to be stated) is that it is sinful, it is evidently not the case such a view necessarily means he would do anything other than defend the rights of gay people in law. Even the Conservative American Evangelical writer Tim Keller, some while ago now, argued "you could believe homosexuality is a sin and still believe that same-sex marriage should be legal". Whilst that is not his own view, Keller reported that while many Christians "still believe homosexuality to be a sin, they don’t think the government should put that belief into law for the nation." There is every reason to presume Tim Farron holds to something akin to this Anabaptist position as described by Keller.

It is interesting to me that Farron has been pilloried, not even so much for his views (though that is certainly illiberal) but for his presumed position. The media have decided what they believe Evangelicalism stands for - regardless of the range of views even within this subset of Protestantism - and are gunning for a man based upon their own presumption rather than his actual position. This position is not necessarily the position of the man on the street. It is one pressed by media outlets.

As I was out on the streets of Llandudno, as an openly Evangelical Christian, we were generally not received with complete scorn. Those who didn't want to talk, didn't talk. Those who did, spoke politely and often disagreed with us (which is to be expected, those are the people we are generally trying to reach). When we disagreed, we spoke together about why and we had a reasonable discussion about the issues. Some people seemed to move closer to our view, some people didn't. At the end of each discussion, nobody fell out, many were glad to have the conversation (even if we didn't end up agreeing together) and nobody was forced to say, believe or do anything. We sometimes engaged with Atheists at the opposing end of the believing spectrum to us. It was a triumph for liberalism. Two opposing views who could, in the end, disagree strongly and yet remain genial. Nobody forcing anyone else to believe what they don't believe and nobody taking such offence at opposing views that police involvement or legal proceedings had anything to do with either one of us.

It seems to me that illiberalism is a charge thrown around whenever somebody voices a view that someone else doesn't like. It is incredible that someone can suggest, as Cathy Newman in her Channel 4 interview tried to infer, it is impossible for a Christian to be a liberal because they may hold illiberal values. But the essence of liberalism is defending such views even as we may disagree with them. If Newman is correct, then liberalism is not about defending alternative views but rather about insisting on the affirmation of prescribed state orthodoxy. For Newman, liberalism is authoritarianism. Up is down. Good is bad. It is Newspeak in every conceivable way. Beware the charge of illiberalism. One may be a bit more illiberal than our clarion cry suggests. 

I am not a Liberal Democrat but I can spot a witch-hunt when I see one. It doesn't take a genius to see that Tim Farron, irrespective of his political views, is being hounded for being an Evangelical Christian. It matters not whether he defends gay rights. It makes no difference if he upholds religious plurality. It is of no importance whether he has credible view on tax and spending. He is an Evangelical and has thus been branded a bigot. Much like the cry of illiberalism, we should be careful what we use as our rallying cry. If bigotry is defined as "intolerance of those who hold different opinions to oneself" [source: Google Dictionary], dismissing somebody politically as an Evangelical bigot - without engaging with what they say, think or do - rather, at best, smacks of the pot calling the kettle black.

Notes

1. The Times comment that Tim Farron believes "every word of the Bible is literal truth" is clearly misleading to those who do not understand the doctrines of infallibility or inerrancy. It shows a naive ignorance of how the Bible was written and the various types of literature it contains, grossly misinterpreting anything Farron has actually said. Nevertheless, because he's Evangelical and we all know what that means, it seems not to matter.

Thinking biblically about politics

I came across this helpful post by Martin Salter. His church - Grace Community Church, Bedford - are currently going through a series aimed at helping their members think biblically about the upcoming election. I thought it was a useful post highlighting the key questions we need to think about when it comes to voting.

To that end, I thought I would go a little bit further and engage with those questions myself. Like Martin, I have no desire to tell my congregation how to vote (honestly!) I must admit, I'm not great at keeping my tendencies under my hat (as a quick glance at the 'about the author' page of this blog will show), so I'm pretty sure most my congregation know where I sit politically and where I am likely to place my vote. Despite that, I am not in the business of defying gospel unity simply because someone thinks and votes differently to me. I just wanted to think through Martin's question and show my working.

1. How do you view the state? Beast or servant of God?

It seems hard to maintain a scriptural argument that the state is inherently evil. Passages such as Romans 13:1-7 and 1 Peter 2:13-17 seem clear enough that God appoints rulers for our good. That is not to say that the state will always act in godly, honourable ways. Even the most rudimentary knowledge of history shows that to be patently false. However, Paul and Peter suggest the state is God's servant for our good.

A proper view of God's sovereignty, providence and agency in the world may help us out here too. There can be no doubt that some evil empires and autocratic rulers have done heinous things that cannot, in any meaningful way, be considered godly. However, even such leaders are still God's servants. They hold power only because the Lord allows it and their acts of evil are only permitted by God to serve his greater purposes. Though they may not appear to act for the good of their own people much of the time, they are nonetheless permitted to act as they do within the grand scheme of God's plan.

Yet, the general thrust of Pauline and Petrine writings on government make clear that rulers are God's servants. What is more, they suggest rulers are generally there for our good. Whether we can make arguments about ungodly leadership and those who rule in ways that don't appear to be for the good of the people, we surely cannot suppose that the state is necessarily, inherently evil.

2. What do you think the state should do? Big or small? Why?

There seem to be very few (if any) biblical imperatives for the state. Some of the things that seem important are these:

• To collect tax for the collective good (cf. Mt 20:20f; Rom 13:7)
• A taxation system based upon ability to pay (cf. Deut 16:17)
• To punish evil and encourage good (cf. Deut 16:18-20; Rom13:4; 1 Pet 2:14)
• To allow a certain degree of individual freedoms (cf. 1 Pet 2:16)
• Equality before the law regardless of gender, status, or country of origin (cf. Deut 16:11f)

One of the key reasons argued in favour of a small state on principle, is the inherent evil of the state itself. As already said, there is no biblical reason to assume the state is inherently evil. Therefore, there is no reason to insist on a small state for this reason.

As we consider the things we have highlighted as important for the state (NB: this is not exhaustive), it strikes me none of these things are affected directly by big or small government. Each of these things can be achieved, in some measure, on either system.

Nevertheless, it would be my contention that the collective good for which tax is collected is best achieved through a large public sector. Certainly, I would argue state ownership of certain (most?) public services serves the collective good in a better way than allowing such things to be run by private enterprise for the primary purposes of profit.

Beyond this, we must consider how the state can work for the benefit of the people. It strikes me there is biblical warrant to consider the state a fundamental good for the benefit of the people whereas there is no scriptural warrant to view business and private enterprise as inherently good (scripturally speaking). That is not to say business is necessarily evil all the time but it is to say there is no biblical warrant to consider businesses as inherently good nor as working for the best interests of the people. 

Scripture has much to say about the value of work and a government that creates jobs does a great service for its people. Even where such job require state funding, work is itself valuable and preferable to welfare (which requires state funding too). A large public sector generally provides greater scope for work than attempting to create jobs through the private sector.

3. On what basis does the state function?

In the run-up to the last election, I wrote an article here discussing this very issue. I stand by most of my considerations there.

In summary (though I suggest you read the article itself), I make a sort of case for natural law as the basis of legislation (or natural rights, akin to Locke and Hobbes argument). I begin with the central premise that all men and women are made in the image of God and are therefore born with certain rights (unalienable rights, if we want to go for Jeffersonian language). I go on to argue that whatever does not impinge upon the common rights of others ought to be lawful. Whatever impinges on the common rights of others ought to be illegal.

This view is primarily about legislation that affect individuals. In particular, it takes account of 1 Peter 2:16, which appears to allow for a certain degree of personal freedom. Beyond this personal form of legislation, government is primarily to seek the collective good of its people. Taking account of those personal freedoms, such collective good will be worked out in different ways depending on context and individual disposition of the policy maker.

4. How do you view the relationship between church/Christians and the state – disengagement, suspicion, co-belligerence, sphere-sovereignty, or something else?

I would advocate a form - if not the exact form expressed by Kuyper - of sphere sovereignty.For both the protection of the state, the people and the church it is absolutely right for there to be a separation between religion and politics. There ought to be no state church nor one particular dominant religious voice (Christian, secular, or any other). That is to protect the people from undue influence of one particular religious (or non-religious) persuasion and also to protect those religious (or non-religious) institutions from unnecessary interference by the state.

As in (3), I believe Christians (churches simply being collections of Christian people) have particular rights inherent to them. The state should not interfere in matters of religion except, and only when, certain religious practices interfere directly with the inherent rights of another.

The obvious issue with this position is what happens when religious freedoms directly conflict with the freedoms of another. For example, should the religious freedom of a group who deem it acceptable to engage in child-sacrifice be respected? Clearly, as this religious practice impinges directly on the inherent rights of the child in question, the government would be entirely justified in intervening here. Of course, there are legitimate questions to be had over what constitutes interfering with the inherent rights of an individual and how far such things are central to the freedom to practice one's religion. But, as a general rule, this seems a sensible position.

However, the issue is often not so clear cut. In today's climate, it is very often religious freedom pitted against sexual freedom. For example, should a church that objects on biblical grounds to homosexual marriage be forced to carry them out because a homosexual couple seeking to marry are entitled to do so legally? With a separation of church and state, this question becomes incredibly straightforward. The government are the only organisation permitted to carry out marriages. So a church would be in no position to carry out the legal ceremony. Weddings would then only be carried out as a religious, non-legally binding, ceremony. There would be no cause for government intervention as marriage was permitted to the couple in law, as to everyone else, whereas the church would be free to bless (or not) the marriage according to their own conscience. Such questions, naturally, become much more complex with no separation of church and state.

This is broadly how I answer those questions. How about you? Why not comment below and explain how you address these things? Answering these question can really help you work out where to place your vote.

Free speech means nothing without the right to offend

The latest edition of Evangelicals Now carries an article which asks the question should free speech include the right to intentionally offend? Disappointingly, the author seems to conclude that it should not. He states "Freedom of speech should not mean freedom to say anything. Cartoons that diminish people by ridiculing their faith come into the category of journalistic jihadi and are on a par with hate speech."

Almost everybody agrees there should be some boundaries to free speech. The vast majority of people accept slander and liable to be legitimate limits. Most agree that it is not acceptable to spout, or print, lies about others. Many, though not all, believe words that are liable to incite violence should not sit within the bounds of free speech. Others are quite happy to disallow anything termed "hate speech", which includes anti-religious sentiments and racially motivated comments among other things. We are now moving toward a situation where some even consider offensive language to be unacceptable.

The problem with "hate speech" or "offensive language" is that such terms are so nebulous and subjective that the range of things disallowed is enormous. The world is full of people waiting to be offended or deem words hateful. In recent years, there have been multiple stories of police action against street preachers, protesters and political activists on such grounds. When anti-terror legislation - intended to suppress acts of violence against the country - is used to eject elderly gentlemen who object to party speeches (see here) we have undoubtedly pressed the limits of free speech too far.

I am wholly for liable and slander legislation. Indeed, these are civil laws that do not tend to lead to imprisonment but damages and reparation (and rightly so). Though I have some sympathy with the thought behind legislation that prohibits incitement to violence, I am not so sure this should be considered a legal offence (see here). I am absolutely sure that neither "hate speech" nor offensive language should be considered illegal (see here, here, here, here, here, here and here).

The line between "hate speech" and "offensive language" is not clear cut. It is most certainly offensive to spout racist insults in the street. In fact, we may call this hateful. There is nothing good, endearing or acceptable about it. Yet, offensive as such repugnant views may be banning their very utterance won't change the attitudes of those who express them. If such views turn into harassment, assault or worse we have laws to address such behaviour that cover all people regardless of gender, creed, colour or sexuality. I don't care if somebody assaults me because of something about my person to which they take exception. I simply care that they assaulted me and I want them treated as anybody else who may have assaulted anybody else for any other reason.

We may find Charlie Hebdo unnecessarily inflammatory and offensive. If that is the case, the answer is not to ban it but not to buy it. Offence over what they print is no reason to ban them from printing it. Free speech should include the right to intentionally offend. In fact, free speech means nothing without the right to offend. Christians are well aware that the gospel is a cause of offence (cf. Rom 9:33; 1 Cor. 1:23; 1 Pet 2:8) and yet we rightly continue to preach it regardless. If we demand the right to offend through the preaching of the gospel (as well we ought), we must accept that others should also have the right to offend us. 

CofE's first female Bishop and what business is it of yours?

It cannot have escaped your notice that the Church of England have just appointed their first female bishop. Details can be found here, here or at any other newspaper you prefer. Rev'd Libby Lane has been promoted to the vacant post in the See of Stockport. Greater Manchester will no doubt see this as something of a coup, maintaining it's reputation as a liberal, progressive region. Two comments from opposite ends of the spectrum can be found here (by the Archbishop Cranmer blog) and here (from Reformation 21).

As I commented here, quite the cause of the hoopla is beyond me. Irrespective of my own position on the matter, I can entirely understand the internal machinations of Anglicanism determining this as "a time for change". I can fully comprehend those within the church wishing to see their own personal views worked out within the church itself. I can also understand the strength of feeling on both sides of the debate and the difficulties this will cause to those currently within Anglicanism who do not share the view this marks a momentous step forward. I can even grasp why those Christians outside the Anglican church would take an interest on the basis that which affects Anglicanism will affect the rest of Christendom. The idea that the little Independent Evangelical Church will in no way be affected by the decisions from within the Anglican communion is nonsense.

However, what I cannot get my head around is the desire of people outside the Anglican church - those who have no attachment to Anglicanism, involvement in other denominations who will face knock-on effects, nor even identify as Christian - who insist upon a say in church matters. It seems such people believe a church to which they don't belong, which they deemed an irrelevance long ago and for whom their decisions will have not the slightest effect on their life, ought to do what they want. It is the ecclesiastical equivalent of a Spaniard, who has never left Spain and has no link to the UK, insisting on the right to determine Home Office policy in Britain. They neither suffer nor benefit from the decision, they have no right to make that decision and yet they insist their voice must be heard in the decision-making process and, more than that, should prevail above all. Maybe I am missing something but, to me at least, it seems totally crackers!

I have no doubt there are strong, and probably majority, voices pressing for such changes within Anglicanism. Such are entitled to their position. For those less inclined to the new direction, they too are entitled to voice their views and (certainly now) face a decision as to whether to remain within the communion or to jump ship. But, of course, the predominant fanfare has come from neither of these quarters. Much has come from the mainstream media and those with little to no connection to the church, or Christianity, at all. 

At last, those underrepresented voices - the many who neither identify as Anglican, have any love for the church nor belong to other denominations for whom such decisions have knock-on effects - can rest safe in the knowledge that an institution for which they ordinarily care not one jot has finally come into line with their views. What a relief this news will be for them!

On idols

Some time ago, I posted here regarding the difference between the first and second commandments. I argued that idolatry is best understood as anything that changes, obscures or alters the true character, or nature, of God.

It is worth noting that the incident of the Golden Calf in Exodus 32 was not an exercise in worshiping a false god per se. The people said "This is your God who brought you up out of Egypt!" (Neh 9:18) and simultaneously dedicated the following day "a feast to the LORD" (Ex 32:5). The people were not attempting to worship another god. Rather, they had changed the character and nature of the true God so that they were, in fact, worshiping a false image. The list of idolatrous behaviours in Col 3:5 is such because, as Christians, we are called to be Christlike and pursue godliness. In indulging such behaviour, we suggest God's character is in line with these things. We change God's character and worship a false image.

Now, it wouldn't be false to say those things that vie for our affections are idols. If we suggest the key to our happiness and fulfillment lie anywhere other than in God, we may not put these things before God but we certainly fall foul of the second commandment. In effect, we suggest God cannot, or will not, meet our particular need and thus we change his character and obscure his nature. If we put this false image before God, we would then fall foul of the first and second commandments simultaneously. Yet, those things that vie for our affections, and by which we suggest God will not meet our needs, are modern day idols. They may not be before God but they are nonetheless gods we worship and seek as a means of fulfilling particular needs.

What is worth bearing in mind is that an idol is only an idol so long as we treat it like an idol. If Paul's comments in 1 Cor 8:4-6 and 1 Cor 10:19f teach anything, it is that idols are nothing. They are either lumps of clay, pieces of wood, bits of stone, moulded metal or conceptual ideas. What they are not is gods.

This is an issue with which many people tie themselves in knots. I have a bust of C.H. Spurgeon on my office desk. Most people rightly conclude this is not an idol - I don't worship it, I don't find any fulfillment in it and I don't believe, nor act, in any way to suggest it is a god. Now, suppose it wasn't C.H. Spurgeon but was one of those Buddha statues, or one of those Hindu deities. Presuming I treat it the same way as my Spurgeon bust, are these any more idols to me?

We may want to have a discussion about the wisdom of associating yourself, as a Christian, with the idolatrous statues of false religion. It may not be helpful to people coming into your home and may lead to all sorts of conversations that are not particularly profitable. However, Paul is clear, in and of themselves, they are nothing and have no power.

I knew somebody who was given a Hindu statue by a colleague (it was a genuine gift in an attempt to be thoughtful). They concluded it would be wrong to smash it to bits, or throw it in the bin, in front of their colleague. I think they were right. In fact, I think - partly because they decided it wouldn't be helpful to display and partly because it was so grotesque - to shove it in the garage out of the way. Did they invite evil into their home? I don't think so. Did they engage in idolatry? I don't see how. Were they sinful to have this thing in the house? No. Paul is quite clear idols are nothing. They have no power. They are simply lumps of clay, wood, stone or metal. It would certainly be wrong to worship these things but an idol is only an idol so long as you treat it like an idol.

If you believe these statues have some sort of power, if you think you are inviting evil into your home by keeping one (perhaps having been given it), ironically you are being idolatrous. You are investing into a lump of material the characteristics of God. You are making out that something God says is nothing is actually really powerful. 

Again, we may want to have a discussion about the wisdom of associating yourself with such things. But that is not a sin issue. That is not an issue of idol worship. It is purely a matter of sensitivity and that which is helpful to others in the gospel.

Mark Steel is half right... nobody will abandon religion simply because an atheist bangs on about science

I generally like Mark Steel. He is usually funny and happens to take a political stance in his comedy that appeals to such as me. I was interested to read his piece in today's Independent in which he (rightly) argued nobody is going to abandon religion simply because "some atheist is banging on at them about science".

Steel is apt to recognise religious belief - as with almost any other firmly held position - is more than a mere matter of assent to facts/ideas (delete according to your predisposition). He comments, "dealing with the intricacies of people’s ideas requires more than yelling science at them" and offers the example of the anorexic who believes they are fat to underline the point. What passes as obvious for one may seem totally irrational to another specifically because of the intricacy of belief and the presumed facts each one of us deems "properly basic".

He correctly points out the issue with the modern atheist appeal to heinous acts committed by those who profess religious belief. He states: 

isn’t it the actions of these people that are vile, not the religion itself? Unless your attitude is: “Those priests are a disgrace. They sexually abused children, covered it up for decades, then to top it all they give out stupid wafers in their service. How sick can you get”?

This point rather hits at the heart of the issue. Richard Dawkins has argued the heinous acts of several atheist dictators had nothing to do with their atheism whilst simultaneously wishing to maintain the heinous acts committed by Roman Catholic priests were somehow prompted by their religion. For many of the New Atheists (cf. Christopher Hitchens' God is not great: how religion poisons everything), the attitude is precisely the one stated above.

Nevertheless, it is nice to see Steel observe "I spent a morning at a Sikh temple recently, where 4,000 free meals are provided for anyone who wants one" whilst pointedly remarking "if you turned up at Richard Dawkins’s house with 4,000 mates, I’d be surprised if you all got a meal out of him".

For all that, Steel's piece is to be commended. It is funny, endearing and recognises the truth that religious belief - in fact, belief of any sort - is more complex than simply assenting to a series of ideas. Somebody once remarked (and I forget who it was now, so I can't honestly credit it), the means by which we reach conclusions is a convoluted and intricate exercise influenced by many things. Reason is merely the device we use to convince others we are right. Often, we expect others to conclude  by reason alone when, for most of us, it is but one of many tools we use to reach conclusions.

Here, however, is where I think Steel is a little unfair. The very title of his piece presumes that the religious are scientifically deficient. Equally fallaciously, he tacitly gives rise to the view that science is the primary form of knowledge (as opposed to other areas that handle issues science cannot and upon which science is often based e.g. philosophy). For all his denunciation of Richard Dawkins, his concern is more that Dawkins patronises believers, has a problem in principle with all religion and clearly ignores the good that many religious believers do. This rather conveys the belief that atheists are the guardians of science and reason whilst believers - who should nevertheless be entertained in their fanciful views so long as they do no harm to others - are not. Steel's concern is not the specific beliefs of Richard Dawkins but the patronising and/or aggressive rhetoric he employs. It is not his views with which Steel finds a problem but the tactics Dawkins uses to convey them. Ironically, this is rather patronising.

Steel says he finds the "contradictions of religion" confusing - as well he should! The example he cites of a guru continuing to fight a battle having had his head chopped off plays directly to our Western, post-enlightenment sense of that which is "properly basic". Of course that could never happen, says Steel, but look at the good these Sikhs are doing in a community setting, offering meals to people. It's the as-long-as-they're-doing-no-harm form of patronage; "yes, their views are ridiculous but look at the lovely things they do as a result"! At least Dawkins doesn't patronise like that.

It is true that belief is a complex thing and represents more than mere assent to a set of ideas. It is also true that reason is but one of many tools we use to reach conclusions. However, that does not mean religion itself is baseless and one must park one's reason to be a believer. I equally don't believe a guru fought a battle after his head was chopped off. That's not because I simply dismiss it as something that could never happen (a position Philosophical Naturalism and Atheism are forced to hold). Rather, if there are good grounds to believe in a God (and, without rehearsing them all here, I believe there are) all sorts of possibilities are open to us. Nevertheless, I don't believe this did happen because of the positive reasons to reject it (again, all of which I will not rehearse here).

By contrast, Christianity is not a religion beget by presumption and story-telling. Scripture itself records God inviting us to "reason together" and the very basis of Christianity - the spark that ignited it as a movement - was based on the evidence for the resurrected Jesus Christ. Throughout the New Testament, the Apostles argued that their hope - and the whole basis of Christianity - stood or fell on the proof of that one fact. Establish the resurrection as a fraud (as many have tried) and Christianity dies overnight. Establish it as fact (in my view, the historical facts are extraordinarily compelling) and Christianity is based on far more than presumption. It compels us reasonably, philosophically and historically.

Where Steel is undoubtedly correct, it will take much more than atheists banging on about science to convince religious believers to abandon their beliefs. Interestingly, Christians recognised this fact long ago. Whatever the compelling reasons for Christianity (and I believe there are many), Blaise Pascal noted nearly 400 years ago, in his Pensées, that reason was but one step (and not even the first one) on the road to belief. No doubt this is where New Atheism is going wrong, merely "banging on about science", but is probably where a lot of modern evangelical Christianity gets it wrong too.

Is Christianity Weird?

Promising to "be true to myself"

Victoria Coren, in yesterday's Observer, wrote an article bemoaning the recent change in pledge from the Brownies'. Instead of promising "to love God", would-be Brownies' will now vow to "be true to myself and develop my beliefs". Quite aside from the fact this new pledge means absolutely nothing, she states "I've never met a child who wasn't true to itself... Every bit of acting up through resentment, impatience, temper, boredom or sadness [when she was a child] was "true to myself" and if my parents had sent me to the Brownies, I suspect it would not have been for a pat on the back".

Like Coren, I do not think the Brownies' are a bad organisation. Unlike Coren, I am not particularly concerned they have removed the statement to "love God" from their pledge. It seems better to remove this vow altogether than force children to make statements of belief to which they evidently don't subscribe. Nor does it place churches in the "insidious position" Coren thinks. Many churches allow secular community works to use their building, usually as long as the specific activity is not actively opposed to the work of the church itself. For example, one should imagine it very odd were the church to grant a meeting place for the British Humanist Association, whose sole mission seems to be seeing religious organisations closed down altogether! Similarly, other religious groups propagating a message fundamentally contrary to the church (a category under which one might argue the BHA fall) would also be unlikely to find a home. Nevertheless, secular language classes, toddler groups, homework clubs and the like often find a home in church buildings and, despite their decision to drop the pledge to "love God", there seems to be no reason the Brownies' couldn't benefit in the same way.

The rather more troubling element of this change is not the part of the pledge they dropped but the insertion that has been deemed better. I am not remotely bothered that Brownies' who probably don't love God are no longer pledging that they do. Rather, it is concerning they deem it better to vow to be "true to myself". As Coren notes:

Although, I repeat, it [being "true to myself"] doesn't mean anything at all, it certainly carries a suggestion of something utterly individualistic. It's the language of The X Factor. It feels stubborn, self-important and faintly aggressive. It brings selfhood looming into the foreground, reducing the rest of the world to passers-by who benefit or suffer by mere coincidence as the individual dream is followed.

Indeed, in step with the national zeitgeist, God goes out the window in favour of being true to oneself. Self takes centre stage whilst God doesn't get a look in.

And where does the desire to be true to oneself end? Weren't many of the heinous individuals of the past century, whose very names are now by-words for evil and moral vacuity, merely being true to themselves? Surely the string of court cases currently being pursued against countless celebrities are merely the product of their having been true to themselves? If being true to oneself is life's raison d'être - the summum bonum of existence - does the good of others even factor? 

Surely, the Brownies' are left with a total contradiction when they simultaneously pledge to "be true to myself" and yet "to help other people". Which is it? Unless we are going for complete doublespeak and trying to claim that "helping other people" includes "being true to myself" they have something of a problem. Of course, they may have in view the totally self-serving sort of altruism that expects something in return or is merely done because it makes us feel good about ourselves. That would certainly involve being "true to myself" whilst sort of "helping other people" but, one suspects, that is not in view given most people - were such intentions stated honestly - would consider the action morally questionable. It is largely agreed that altruism is not altruistic when we do it with the inheritance in view!

Such views of being true to one's self and following one's own dreams are fairly widespread. The advancement of self is part of our national consciousness. However, it is interesting to note that Aleister Crowley, famous occultist and founder of the religion Thelema, stated "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law", and that people should learn to live in tune with their "True Will". Similarly, the Church of Satan claim they do not believe in gods and devils but that one's self is their own "God". They go on state that Satan "represents indulgence instead of abstinence". Such thinking seems to be the basis of occultic and satanic thought.

Now, I am not for one second suggesting that the Brownies' are now following occultic practice and aligning themselves with the Church of Satan. What I am saying is our national consciousness reflects these same values and the Brownies' are reflecting the national consciousness. Could it be these strands of occultic thought (Crowley as early as the late 1800s) were reflecting something of a change in public attitude? Perhaps. More likely, especially given these groups are relatively young and the language they choose to adopt specifically Koine Greek and biblical, they actively - and self-consciously - stand in opposition to Christianity in particular. Such ideas of self-promotion and being true to one's self share an uncanny resemblance to this school of thought.

All of that is to say, what does our national focus - and the Brownies' specific focus - on being true to one's self say about us? Could the dropping of God, and the promotion of self, say something far more serious than mere attempts to be "inclusive"? It is interesting that the Brownies' pledge has not come out the blue, for nationally we dropped God a long time ago and the indulgence of self has been promoted ever since. If self is the summum bonum, what exactly distinguishes us from the Alestair Crowley school of thought?

Polly Toynbee and what's bad for politics

Polly Toynbee, Guardian columnist and outgoing president of the British Humanist Association (BHA), writes in today's Guardian that 'Atheists are better for politics than believers'. Whilst I would fiercely argue against any notion that Atheists are somehow objectively worse for politics than believers, I'm not convinced Ms Toynbee's case is particularly well established.

In the first instance, she argues:

Rows over gay marriage and women bishops bewilder most people. With overwhelming popular support for both, how can abstruse theology and unpleasant prejudice cause such agitation at Westminster and in the rightwing press? Politics looks even more out of touch when obscure doctrine holds a disproportionate place in national life.

By all means, disagree with the theological stances that would eschew gay marriage and the appointment of women bishops. However, there is nothing 'abstruse' or 'obscure' about these doctrinal positions. In fact, as doctrinal positions go, these views are widely held, fairly well known and not particularly hard to find in the texts from which they are drawn. More to the point, there are plenty of believers who favour one, or both, of these policies. This blog has made no secret of its view on marriage (see http://smkneale.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/redefining-marriage-and-c4m.html), favouring equality in law by removing legislation on marriage altogether and introducing civil partnerships for all, leaving marriage as a non-legal ceremony performed according to one's preferred tradition.

Further, it is disingenuous to claim the government's proposals carry 'overwhelming support'. Majority support, arguably, but an overwhelming majority seems to be overstating the case somewhat. Behind the comment is the sense that religious feeling is driving all opposition to gay marriage and women bishops. Certainly, in the case of the latter, religious feeling is driving the outcome, though it is surely right that those who belong to the Church in question should have final say in matters related to that organisation. It would be bizarre in the extreme for those who do not belong to the Church, who have no affiliation with the organisation and avowedly refuse to join because of their disdain for that institution to be the ones to have the final word in its affairs. That would be the equivalent of allowing the Conservatives the final word on appointments within the Labour Party! However, in the case of gay marriage, as the census figures highlight - to which Toynbee herself alludes - the numbers opposed to gay marriage seem higher than those claiming any form of religious affiliation (1). Most strikingly, given the title of her piece, Toynbee seems to be suggesting that opposition to these proposals automatically makes one 'worse' for politics.

Toynbee also highlights the recent 'right to die' debate. She argues it is religious conscience that prevents us from allowing individuals to end their own lives, laying the blame squarely at the door of '26 bishops and other religious lords'. There is undoubtedly a large number of people who, as a direct result of their religious convictions, vehemently oppose such laws. However, the census figures once again undo Toynbee's argument. If religious affiliation is significantly down as she claims then religious affiliation cannot account for the entirety of numbers in opposition to the policy. Again, Toynbee's argument appears to be if one disagrees with the policy they are, by definition, bad for politics.

Toynbee goes on to highlight that Section 5 of the Public Order Act led to an 'extraordinary alliance of extreme religions wanting the right to preach fire and brimstone against gays joined with free thinkers wanting the right to be rude about religions'. Her comment demonstrates her prejudice; offence being legitimate when directed against those whom she is not at all concerned about offending. Frankly, this blogger would defend her right to 'be rude' about religions for, as she rightly notes, 'in the rough and tumble of free speech, no one can be protected against feeling offended'. She goes on to give a common objection to the Moral Argument for the existence of God, based on a woeful understanding of the argument itself. She claims the religious argue Atheists 'have no moral compass', though somewhat scuppers her own argument by stating 'wise atheists make no moral claims, seeing good and bad randomly spread among humanity regardless of faith'. Quite how one can have a moral compass whilst at the same time making no moral claims seems difficult to maintain. Nevertheless, contrary to her understanding, the moral argument revolves around the very premise that Atheists do have a moral compass! Indeed, Toynbee's own rejection of certain conservative principles and what she perceives as religious opposition to certain government proposals raised in her piece belie her assertion to make no moral claim.

All of this, she avers, means Atheists are better for politics than believers. However, it appears what Toynbee really means is those who disagree with her are bad for politics. Frankly, this position negates her claim to be 'with Voltaire, defending to the death people's right to believe whatever they choose, but fighting to prevent them imposing their creeds on others'. For, on Toynbee's view, whilst people are free to believe what they want without imposing their creed on others, she is free to believe what she wants whilst imposing her creed on others. In truth, neither believers nor Atheists are fundamentally bad for politics. It is this position espoused by Toynbee that seems particularly problematic.

Notes

1. See http://ukpollingreport.co.uk/blog/archives/4984 for a statement on the overstatement of figures both 'for' and 'against' the proposal and the actual figures delivered from various polls.

Whither freedom of expression in public life?

In a story published by the Guardian, Lady Warsi has attacked what she describes as 'militant secularisation' which 'demonstrates similar traits to totalitarian regimes – denying people the right to a religious identity because they were frightened of the concept of multiple identities'. She has also called for Christianity to be given a central role in public life arguing that 'intolerant secularisation has to be held back by reaffirming the religious foundations on which our societies are built'.


This is indeed a thoroughly bizarre situation. A Muslim calling for greater Christian influence in public life, a right-winger championing freedom of religion and religious expression - historically a major driver on the left (see 'Right-Wing Evangelicalism has forgotten it's heritage), and this writer in broad agreement with a Tory! Of course, all this has been prompted by a delegation taking a jolly to the Vatican. In light of Pope Benedict XVI's comments regarding the onward march of secularism and more recent press stories concerning the perceived purge of religious expression from public life, Lady Warsi's statement is perhaps not so surprising. Nevertheless, for those on either side of the non/believing debate, her comments are no doubt pertinent.


I am only in broad agreement with Lady Warsi. I concur that a militant secularisation undoubtedly exists which hopes to expunge any form of religious expression from the public sphere. Organisations such as the National Secular Society and the British Humanist Association make no bones about such desires. It is patently absurd, as these groups claim, that secularisation is unbiased - it is the non-believers theocracy. It allows Atheists to bring their religious convictions to boot on matters of public life - the positive affirmation that there is no God is a religious conviction - whilst refusing convinced believers the same courtesy. Indeed, whilst believers hold many views about society and law which are informed by their religious convictions, so too the affirmation that there is no God will have an outworking in one's view of public policy. To pretend otherwise is quite frankly disingenuous. So, I fully accept Lady Warsi's premise and agree that free expression of religion, from whatever background or culture they emerge, should be allowed to continue in public life.


Nevertheless, I am not fully on board with Lady Warsi's comments. She argues that we must counteract this secularism by reaffirming the religious values inherent in Britain's history and culture. However, I simply do not agree for exactly the same reason as my disinclination toward complete secularisation. I find the installation of a Christian theocracy little more palatable  (though, as a Christian, I would no doubt find it a little more palatable) than the alternative non-believers charter. Whilst we may once have been a "Christian Country", a claim which I believe caused much damage (1), we almost certainly cannot be considered such today. No doubt many would argue that we must use some basis for enacting laws and Christian values are as good as any. This is an assessment with which I disagree (for my thoughts on this see 'Should Christians try to bring biblical law into civil society').


I would contend, like Lady Warsi, that individuals should be free to express their religion in the public sphere. I would also agree that complete secularisation is not a means by which all people are considered equal. This view circumvents the reality that religious conviction - whether belief or non-belief - impacts one's view of public policy. Secularisation allows non-believers to bring such convictions to boot in the public sphere whilst, at the same time, insisting believers cannot. Therefore, this is no more preferable than any other religious theocracy. Unlike Lady Warsi, I do not particularly believe Christian values must be imposed on civil society. Indeed, I would contend that our law should be enacted on the basis of that which leads to equality and that which upholds the rights common to man, whatever they may be.


Notes

1. The cultural Christianity of the past led many to the false belief that they were Christians as a direct result of their cultural upbringing. Whilst they may have been culturally Christian, this in no way transpired into any sort of saving faith as described in the Bible. Nevertheless, this is the sort of faith many believed they possessed simply because of their cultural background and potentially because of church attendance.