What future for the church?

Look ahead 10, 20, 30 years. Who will be in church for regular services? Will it still be open? Early Christians met in each other’s houses, so why did churches develop? One of the reasons was to have enough space as numbers grew, and to have a place common to all where skills could be harnessed to the glory of something bigger than humanity. A drawback of meeting in people’s homes was that the hosts started to claim that they were more important because they were the host. Issues of possessiveness crept in (too much ‘self’ again). That’s why many clergy, myself included, don’t like meetings to be always in the same person’s house, and why church things shouldn’t be kept in people’s homes except as a last resort. Churches, church halls and vicarages are neutral territory, open and available to all. How can we make them more available? In days gone by, churches were used for public meetings, dances, entertainments, fairs, parties, and so on. Some still are: it’s good to see churches used for concerts, teas, community events. But … what will church services be like in 10, 20, 30 years’ time? Will there be any? Will the church still be available for weddings and funerals? What do we need to do to secure the church’s future as a centre of Christian spiritual sustenance? Does anyone care?

As a priest, I’m always conscious that because of their experiences, many people see me as a finger- wagging killjoy. Some people see me as divorced from reality, living in my own little world, experiencing daily two-way communication with an imaginary friend. Some people see me as a danger to society for all sorts of reasons. Perceptions like this influence the future of church. I suspect that a fair number of people don’t come because it intimidated them—or worse—when they were young. We cannot ignore these perceptions if the church is to survive, let alone prosper. What do people think we get up to? Perhaps they think we sacrifice virgins on the altar—after all, we eat flesh and drink blood, do we not? Lots of people say that church is full of hypocrites (please join us: there’s always room for one more). But if they came, would they be welcomed without being pointed at? Would they be able to hear? Would they be uplifted by the liturgy and the music? Would they get a glimpse of heaven?

Sacred space

As the minister of the established church (church and state loosely linked together), I have a legal duty to perform the baptism, wedding and funeral of any parish resident. I may not say ‘no’. I’m always honoured to be a part of these events, and welcome people without reservation. Many of the weddings and baptisms are for people who don’t live in the parishes. Some have family connexions, but some choose these churches simply because there’s something about them that attracts. Why do people who’ve no tradition of church attendance, and intend to have none, still want to come to church for these events? The cynic might say that it’s simply that churches make attractive settings for photographs, as is indeed the case. But I think there’s more to it than that.

There’s something about the need for a solemn marking of rites of passage. Something about the need to take yourself away to a special place on a special day; something about using words and rituals that are unlike those used everyday. A setting apart. The words used in church language for this are sacred and consecrate, and the words consecrate is related to secret—secret not in the sense not hidden, but of special.

There’s something deeply human about all this: a setting apart in deed and word of important events. It reaches back to the origins of our evolution. Look at animal behaviour—and we are animals. Look at brain biology: such events become set apart in our memories, carefully tidied away in a part of the brain that is peculiarly resistant to the diseases of memory that afflict many of us as we get older. Memories secreted away.

The wish to have special events marked by sacred rituals in sacred spaces means that some wedding couples are prepared to attend services regularly for at least 6 months in order to fulfil the legal requirements if they have no other connexion to the parish. This is quite a commitment. Some of them must like what they find, because they come again, and sometimes again and again. In our regular church services we do things that are set apart from ordinary life. We move in certain ways, we wear symbolic clothes, we use symbolic gestures and language, we light candles, we make the place smell good (flowers, incense). We aim for beauty and a sense of otherness. Many of us want the things we do in church to be different from what we encounter day by day in order to remind ourselves that there is more to human experience than just what meets the eye. There is ‘what we feel’ as well as ‘what we do’. We are human beings. Many people have a longing for something ‘other’, as shown by the interest in spirits, ghosts and ghoulies.

The availability of the church to all that live in the parish, or have connexions with it, is part of the gracious ministry of the Church. I’m delighted to help people recognise this by providing sacred experiences in sacred spaces for sacred events. I’m delighted to help point people to the divine otherness that envelops us and penetrates us.