Here she tells why she got out, to help launch “a truly liberating non-supernatural Christianity” Penny-w1Se, Church-foolish s I stood to account before the Az! ranks of Church-Members- in-Sea-of-Faith last February it was hard to credit that only a year before, as a Church member myself, I had left a similar gathering feeling uplifted and positive about that institution of which I had been a more or less committed member for nearly fifty years. Somehow - I can’t explain it yet as fully as I would like - elation receded very rapidly and one Sunday my patience simply snapped.
My parish Church is used to “departures” and doesn’t make serious efforts to follow these up - despite being only a third as strong as it was 17 years ago when we moved to the area. The nearest we came to investigating this phenomenon was via a Church survey that I organised for the PCC during spring of last year. The results were, though not unexpected, depressing reading. Seemingly people left chiefly as a result of “a falling out”: Brown Owl didn’t get the usual window for the Brownies’ Harvest Festival display; “people” didn’t take care of the newly refurbished hall kitchen, so the couple who donated the renovation upped sticks; the vicar is a freemason and “we don’t hold with masons”... and so on.
Significantly perhaps, no one gave any sort of doctrinal reason for departure - all those “against women priests” or pro the reinstatement of Matins had firmly remained within to be sure of being around to influence any future decisions once the present vicar retires in two years time.
My departure, formally announced before a PCC meeting, was apparently a shock. I had openly handed a letter to the vicar on my last Sunday at Church, “Services had suddenly begun to get under my skin: I was variously irritated, angered, frustrated, patronised - or bored.” giving as tactfully as possible my reasons. I later explained to anyone who bothered to inquire that I no longer had the energy to “translate” everything I said and did in Church so that it remained meaningful to me, but I felt hypocritical not taking that trouble - and anyway I had come to think that most of it was a waste of time and energy. The bottom line for me was that I had suddenly recognised that I was neither “worshipping” alongside other people any more nor did I feel creatively involved in the church’s liturgical life.
Services had suddenly begun to get under my skin: I was variously irritated, angered, frustrated, patronised - or bored. As a participant in the liturgy I felt increasingly compromised and, worse still, subtly colluding in the perpetuation of a traditional literal understanding of the faith by saying and singing things (which albeit I understood symbolically) as if I unequivocally assented to them.
I slowly realised that it was a long time since I was intellectually challenged in a church service but also that I was rarely emotionally touched - news bulletins, documentaries and real life encounters had touched me deeper than anything I had experienced in church for years. I recognised essentially that without intellectual or spiritual nourishment I wasn’t thriving and in turn had nothing further to give. Church had become Hard Work. I badly needed “Out”.
Although I had first (timidly) “come out” to the vicar about my nonrealist understanding of God in 1994 following the SoF conference, it had been the vicar’s kindly and inclusive response to my “outing” that had kept me in the fold for a further four years, albeit hanging by the fingernails. I had been disappointed to find, however, that since his return from a couple of pilgrimages to the Holy Land my parish priest had become less flexible and tolerant in his approach. It was clear that he thought I should have “got over” my unwise dalliance with deviant doctrine by now - moreover I was needed to help with some exciting new community “outreach” projects which were being planned by a committee on which I was currently serving (one which I am proud to have had a hand in renaming “Faith in the Future” from an unfortunate genesis as “Forward in Faith”!).
Looking back, perhaps I should have made more strenuous efforts to share my doubts and difficulties with the vicar but, poor man, he was unaided by a curate or readers, had responsibilities for the residents of a dozen homes for the elderly, on top of hospital visiting (for which he was in great demand), and he seemed far too busy to bother. Anyhow, I sensed that I wouldn’t make a good clear case for myself in a face-to-face situation.
It was on Trinity Sunday, finding myself singing “Firmly I believe and truly / God is Three and God is One...”, that I experienced, as a physically acute awareness, the now untenable nature of my relationship with the Church. My whole body in hymn-singing mode was Penny Mawdesley: now comfy on the SoFa manifesting a lie to the world around me. It was suddenly simple, if stark: I could no longer remain in the Church with integrity.
It was sobering to face up to the reality of what I had been doing from habit for so long. If I was honest with myself, the praise that I had been apparently heaping on the Almighty had been shamelessly sycophantic. When had I last truly felt utterly feeble, frail and dependent on God? Granted, I had (and continued to) put huge reliance on human networks which had not always taken the strain - but as for casting myself with mystical abandonment on the mercy of God - not for a very long time, if ever. I had been pretending to emotions, hopes and fears, to faith itself - that were not really me.
Contentious nurture by godly parents and a church school had led me to pursue the Christian way of discipline and obedience. To be faithful meant valuing custom and precedent and cultivating the virtues of loyalty and service. If it came to the crunch, such things would be prized above risk-taking, coming to terms with rival truth-claims, learning to live with uncertainty and maintaining basic personal integrity.
Well, looking back, what might have helped me to stay in the Church (or incline me to return)? I’m still inspired by much of what I understand to be the teachings of the wise young rabbi from Nazareth - teaching on unconditional love and forgiveness, or seeking fulfilment in freedom of spirit and harmony with all creation. If Id experienced Jesus mediated to me not as “Messiah”, “Lord”, “Saviour” or “Redeemer” so much as “Inspiration” and “Guide” ... if the concepts of incarnation resurrection and the Trinity had been honestly and openly demythologised from the pulpit and not presented as articles of belief... if it had been easier to find a theologically radical soulmate in the congregation and a “safe” discussion venue in our church where one could dare to share thoughts and questions without fear of upsetting people...
So much that I have difficulty with in a church service currently stems from the obvious fact that the liturgy is designed as a paean of praise to a Real Creator/Redeemer - everything that is done is addressed to Him and can seem ridiculous if you are not, in fact, addressing anyone “out there”. I love traditional church music and enjoy singing hymns - if it wasn’t for the words!
If only preachers would substitute the similes “like” and “as” for the ways in which they encourage everyone to collude in literal thinking! Indeed much traditional religious language has lost its freshness and immediacy and some imaginative updating needs to be done to grip the modern (largely urban) mind. Moreover, it is all too common to hear church people, clerical and lay, talk in quaint pre-scientific terms which imply that we haven’t progressed beyond a flat earth and a three-tiered universe: we think we’re being “modern” to talk of the Holy Spirit rather than the Holy Ghost!
On reflection, from my comfortable seat on the SoFa, I dare to suggest that I would put up with any number of illprepared (or oft-repeated) sermons, with uninspiring music and unimaginative meditational guidance, if the institutional Church and its leaders would only grasp the nettle and launch a truly liberating non-supernatural Christianity on a disillusioned and sceptical world hungering for honest and practical help in making sense of things.
Penny Mawdsley is a member of the SoF steering committee and was convenor of the 1999 conference working party “If only preachers would substitute the similes ‘like’ and ‘as’ for the ways in which they encourage everyone to collude in literal thinking!” SPIRIT JOANNA DALES is inspired by another SoF weekend in the Lake District to ponder what Wordsworth and the great poets have to contribute to our nonrealist, postmodern understanding of God.