Yesterday’s contribution from Stephen Goss, who describes himself as a ‘pro-union Catholic’ from West Belfast, floated the proposition of creating a more robust ‘Northern Ireland’ identity.

The sub-headline of Goss’ article is bold:

Unionists should be radical and ambitious – creating a Northern Ireland flag, anthem and identity which both Catholics and Protestants can subscribe to

The idea of a Northern Ireland identity is not new, indeed it is something that has been floated in the past by the Alliance Party – and subsequently scorned as unrealistic.

But surveys show that there are increasing numbers of people within Northern Ireland, especially among younger age cohorts, that when given the choice are willing to select ‘Northern Ireland’ rather than ‘Irish’ or ‘British’ as their identity.

This raises the possibility that Northern Ireland may be approaching a time in its history when some sort of uniting, over-arching identity is indeed possible.

I would hasten to add that I don’t think an over-arching Northern Ireland identity could replace nationalist or unionist identities altogether, but that it just might be possible for it to exist alongside those other identities in ways that are positive and constructive.

That said, it seems a more difficult identity to construct or manufacture than, for example, an Ulster-Scots identity – which can draw on deeper historical roots and resonances.

But I’m a bit put off by the tone of the News Letter’s sub-headline: Unionists should be radical and ambitious …

Surely any sort of shared Northern Ireland identity can’t be left solely to the unionists to construct, or else it misses the point entirely. I also was disappointed that Goss’ column didn’t go far enough, in offering any vision of how unionists and nationalists could get to work on building a shared, over-arching identity.

Reading today’s column in the ‘Union 2021’ series, however, one could be forgiven for thinking Goss’ ideas could never get off the ground. Dr James Dingley asserts that unionists and nationalists are more divided than ever:

For all the bombast, nothing has changed: ‘shared future’ – whatever that means, and ‘parity of esteem’ (murderers with law-abiding citizens?) are empty rhetoric covering over the fact that nothing has actually changed and everyone has been shoved back into the boxes from whence they came in 1969.

Dingley’s column is titled ‘Unionism has a desperate dearth of ideas.’ He laments the demise of the cross community Northern Ireland Labour Party and is dismayed that the best that unionists have been able to come up with over the years is a strategy of ‘Ulster Says No.’

Unfortunately, Dingley undermines his own argument and makes sure that he will never be able to constructively communicate with nationalists by continually referring to ‘unrepentant terrorists’ and adding:

Finally it [unionism] needs to be able to stand up and say quite clearly why Ulster is not Irish and why everyone is far better off in the UK.

This, to me, is nonsensical – it is like saying Wales is not Welsh or Scotland is not Scottish.

Fortunately, there is room for ‘Irishness’ in the Northern Irish identity that Goss proposes. He says that a Northern Irish identity and the symbols that might go with it need not ‘be at the expense of our national affiliations.’

While I have my doubts that a Northern Irish identity will genuinely ‘work’ in the ways that Goss hopes, I think it is far more realistic than convincing nationalists that ‘Ulster is not Irish.’

Jones, a lay Catholic, is the secretary of the ecumenical Fermanagh Churches Forum.

Responding to Archbishop Diarmuid Martin’s Address

Reading Martin’s address (which interestingly was made in Italy, in anticipation of John Henry Newman’s beatification) I see little in the points he makes about civil religion which are surprising or particularly controversial.  The significant thing is that they have been made by an archbishop, albeit well away from home territory.

The situation he alludes to is by now a humdrum, if not quite vicious circle, for which neither clergy nor laity can take the whole blame, as each colludes with the other.

The church is valued primarily for supplying a sacramental gloss to rites of passage (or to be ruder, an excuse for conspicuous consumption) and for providing the kind of education (cramming kids through exams, onto the sports fields and into good universities and lucrative jobs) for which parents otherwise might have to pay.

Priests, whose own theological literacy is often impossible to ascertain, go along with this by preaching identikit homilies which begin with a reference to a recent sporting event (rugby in the south, soccer in the north, G.A.A. in both) and conclude with an exhortation to try to be kind to our spouses/parents/children.

As Vincent Browne points out, there is little or no awareness of society and its injustices, other than a rather archaic, if well-meaning, mission-based charity.

The Irish Catholic Church as Jester at the court of the Celtic Tiger?

Meanwhile it is largely left to the religious orders to minister to the minority, albeit a substantial, healthy and admirable minority, who recognize that their faith demands more of them than this and quite reasonably seek more from their ministers also.

If the archbishop is seeking to break into this circle, to transform the church into more than the well-fed jester at the court of the bankrupt Celtic Tiger, then he is to be applauded.  He must recognize, however, that if the church is to be more, it must also be prepared to be less.  The appropriate archetype, if the jester’s hat is to be discarded, isn’t the sleek chancellor but the holy fool outside in the snow.

And as Gladys suggests, it looks strongly as though he’s actually trying to have the best of both worlds. Archbishop Martin’s comments about the ‘people of God’ are significant:

I have the impression that when many people say “We are the Church” they actually want to say “I am the Church”, meaning “I am creating a Church according to my needs and my lifestyle.” There is a danger that when some say that the Church is the “People of God”, they really want to say that it is up to the people to determine who God is and how God is useful. But, whoever encounters only their own God does not encounter the God revealed in Jesus Christ.

Am I alone in finding this snide and patronising?

The final sentence is, of course, true, but at least as true for those within the structures of power as for those outside.  It seems to indicate the kind of Catholic intellectuals that he is seeking, those who will exercise their intelligence and insight only within prescribed boundaries, who will identify the specks in the eye of secular society but leave their own splintered planks unmentioned.

Looking Back to Newman to Look Forward …

It is a great pity.  As a Catholic myself, a convert and blow-in, I’d rejoice to see today’s sterile symbiosis replaced by a genuine and fruitful relationship between all members of the church, clergy and laity, where each recognizes that they have aspects of faith to learn as well as to teach.

That would be a truer way of expressing the vision of Newman, who, as seems to be forgotten whenever the hierarchy speak of him, was himself a thorn in their side and a man who, as he grew older, became less and less dogmatic and more and more tolerant.

It was the spirit of Newman which brought about the Second Vatican Council, an event which still seems scarcely to have been noticed in Ireland; it is hardly just to use his memory to turn the clock back yet further.

Many who have reacted to Martin’s statement blame the Catholic Church itself. For example, Michael Clifford in the Tribune blames the intellectually stifling climate created by the Irish Catholic Church,

For decades, any form of debate was stifled. Anybody within – or without – the church who voiced opinions or ideas conflicting with the world view of the hierarchy was given short shrift. Debate was not encouraged. As for the theological illiteracy of the flock, how else could it be in an institution which placed very little emphasis on debate, theological or otherwise?

Vincent Browne, writing in today’s Irish Times, also blames the Catholic Church and the education system that it spawned. Browne asks how Ireland’s Catholic schools could have produced a ruling class that has proved so morally bankrupt, greedy and individualistic? He says,

Just think of the thousands of lawyers, accountants, bankers, stockbrokers and others who must have colluded in criminality over the last decade or so, in fraudulent accounting, in fraudulent trading, in fraudulent preference, in insider dealing. And such is our public culture that not one of them has been charged with a crime and, very probably, not one of them will go to jail. Many of them have made fortunes and many of them have retained fortunes.

These people didn’t come from nowhere. They came out of our schools, most of them Catholic schools and they came out not just theologically illiterate but socially illiterate as well. Most of them are without any sense of being part of a society; they have no sense or little sense of being social beings, of having responsibilities to others. No sense of sharing or wanting to share. Instead they have a highly individuated sense of themselves, out for their own advancement and enrichment and, if society suffered as a consequence, nothing to do with them.

If ‘theological illiteracy’ is failing to see how the teachings of Jesus just don’t fit with the recent social and economic behaviour of Ireland’s ruling classes, then Browne has a good point.

Then there are those like Monica Dolan, a letter writer to the Irish Times, who detects a rank hypocrisy in Martin’s remarks:

Dr Diarmuid Martin states that many Irish Catholics are theologically illiterate … theology being primarily the study of God.

When you look at the response to the scandal of child sex abuse by the Vatican, the permanent top of the class in theology – maybe we illiterates are better off.

Indeed, it is people from the ‘top of the class in theology’ who have condescendingly declared that Jennifer Sleeman from Co. Cork – who has called for a boycott of mass on September 26th – doesn’t understand what she is doing.

I think that Mrs. Sleeman understands deeply what she is doing, and that’s what makes her call to action powerful and poignant.

Unsurprisingly perhaps, I haven’t heard anyone arguing that Irish Catholics are particularly theologically literate! But as the ‘blame’ for Irish Catholics’ theological illiteracy gets shifted about, it strikes me that Martin’s comment could be interpreted as a call to action.

Can it be read as a healthy challenge to Irish Catholics (not just the hierarchy, but the people in the pews) to spend more time exploring their faith and spirituality?

A theologically literate laity is more likely to interrogate Church teachings than either:

1. accept them as givens, or
2. ignore them.

That might make life even more awkward and difficult for the hierarchy.

But I think that’s a price that must be paid for a healthy, thriving, Irish Church.

I had to smile at Johnson’s characterisation of my review,

This might be the most neutral, purely descriptive book review I have ever read. It is certainly descriptively accurate.

That’s a fair assessment of the review. Johnson reminded me of an incident back when I was a sportswriter at the Bangor Daily News in Maine, USA.

I was asked to fill in for an Arts and Entertainment writer by reviewing a musical theatre production, written and produced by locals. I thought the play was terrible, but I couldn’t bring myself to be overly critical.

After all, Bangor, Maine, is a city of about 30,000 (only slightly bigger than Ballymena), and the people involved had obviously put their hearts and souls into the production. They weren’t professionals performing on Broadway, after all. What could anyone possibly gain by me writing a scathing review?

The day after my review appeared, someone wrote a letter to the editor complaining that it was ‘A Review that Wasn’t a Review.’ Like Johnson, he had a fair point!

But the reason for my neutrality on Selmanovic’s book is not that I think that it is a terrible book. On the contrary, I think it is moving, insightful, well-written and could even be inspiring for some people. But Johnson asks,

How well do you think that it will accomplish its aim, which is to encourage people of different religious backgrounds to “love each other well,” despite their differences? I would like to think that if we could get people to read the book and participate in discussion groups as outlined at the end of the book, progress could be made on resolving inter-group conflict.

I also would like to think that ‘discussion groups’ could lead to progress, but the problem is, evidence for this is thin. I do think it can happen on a small-scale, and have seen examples of this among Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland.

But to answer Johnson, I simply don’t know if the discussion and interaction that Selmanovic advocates will ultimately have a long-term impact in the lives of more than a few people.

Of course, Selmanovic provides evidence of this from his own life, telling stories about himself and others who have overcome prejudices.

Further, some academic research confirms that carefully managed ‘inter group contact’ can lead to a moderation of attitudes. Indeed, Northern Ireland’s Community Relations Council is pretty much based on the theory that promoting ‘cross community’ contact will help to resolve inter-group conflict.

Watching from Ireland, I’ve been struck by the way that the debate about the Islamic cultural centre, proposed to be two blocks from Ground Zero, has been framed in such a confrontational way.

Even the phrase ‘Ground Zero Mosque’ seems to me deliberately misleading and inflammatory. Both politicians and people in the media have used this language to frame the debate.

I think that this use of language can – and may already have done – a lot of harm to the productive, grassroots work that Selmanovic and others like him are involved in.

Selmanovic is based in New York City, at Faith House Manhattan, and has on his own blog entered the ‘Ground Zero Mosque’ debate.

So finally, to try and answer Johnson’s question: I simply don’t know if what Selmanovic promotes will inspire others and work for everybody. But I think there’s more hope in his grassroots approach than in the confrontational public discourses currently on display in New York City.

(Photo from Selmanovic’s blog. He has it captioned: ‘All I need to know about Christianity I learned from the KKK?’)

That was the theme of the first session of the McCluskey Civil Rights Summer School, held on Saturday 28 August at the Heritage Centre in Carlingford, Co. Louth. The Summer School honours the legacy of civil rights leaders Dr Conn and Patricia McCluskey.

It was almost inevitable that the first session would generate heated debate, given that it featured civil rights leader Austin Currie and Danny Morrison, the former Communications Director for Sinn Fein.

Morrison is a careful speaker, who managed mostly to avoid words like ‘inevitable’ and ‘justified’ in his defence of Sinn Fein and the IRA’s joint ‘Armalite and ballot box’ strategy. One of his major claims was that the unionist and British Government responses to the peaceful civil rights protests (which he initially supported) was what ultimately sparked republican violence.

Further, Morrison claimed that it was the pressure of republican violence that allowed constitutional nationalists to argue for meaningful power-sharing and the inclusion of a Council of Ireland in the 1973 Sunningdale Agreement.

Currie, of course, disagreed, arguing that republican violence was in fact a hindrance to negotiations and had prevented the implementation of Sunningdale. He also focused on the role that the Rev. Ian Paisley played in promoting violence – nearly claiming, it seemed to me, that Paisley could be blamed for most of the mayhem that followed the initial civil rights marches.

Currie also raised the question of what were Paisley’s true intentions throughout the Troubles?

Currie said that if history showed that Paisley was not really as bigoted as he had seemed all those years, and that he had finally compromised with Sinn Fein only to gain personal political power, that he should be judged all the more harshly by future generations.

At one point Morrison said that everyone in Ireland bore some responsibility for the Troubles, which provoked an angry reaction from the crowd. Cries of ‘shame’ and ‘not in my name’ stopped him from offering a fuller explanation of what he meant by this.

I don’t agree with the ‘armed struggle,’ and clearly most of the audience didn’t either, but I do think that Morrison had a point and I would have preferred to hear him out. In the study of conflict transformation, one of the common fallacies that usually must be overcome is the idea that it is a few ‘terrorists’ who are causing all the problems.

Generally, even those who do not commit violent acts are in some way supporting, or not challenging, or living in leafy suburbs where they can relatively safely ignore, those who are involved in violence.

That’s an important part to remember when the violence has stopped, and the work of reconciliation has to be done. Reconciliation is not just something for the former combatants, it’s something that ideally has to happen amongst people at all levels of society.

That said, it’s clear from the reaction at the Summer School that questions about whether or not violence was justified can quickly and dramatically and open old wounds. Is Northern Ireland prepared to embark on a ‘Dealing with the Past’ process that could unleash such strong emotions?

That’s a crude representation of Ulster Scots, admittedly. But the results of a Northern Ireland Omnibus survey, released last week, demonstrate that Ulster Scots seems to have gained some currency in Northern Ireland’s public consciousness.

The Belfast Telegraph reported that 1,212 people were surveyed, with 18 per cent of those saying they identified as Ulster Scot. 29 per cent of people over 65 identified as Ulster Scot, while just 5 per cent of those between 16-24 identified as Ulster Scot.

Among Protestants, 31 per cent said they were Ulster Scot.

31 per cent seems to me an impressive figure, given the derision that Ulster Scots has endured.

Also, it is generally thought that the population that might identify with Ulster Scots would be concentrated among the descendants of Scottish Presbyterians, naturally eliminating the descendants of English settlers, who are more likely to have an Anglican or other Protestant heritage.

So to me, this survey indicates that the idea of ‘Ulster Scots’ has caught the imagination of more of Northern Ireland’s Protestants than might have been supposed.

Admittedly, people responding to a survey about Ulster Scots might be more likely to identify with it as a language and as an identity, because the very act of participating in the survey would get them thinking about it.

The Belfast Telegraph also reports that the Ulster Scots Agency spent £3.4 million pounds last year, so the promotion of this identity has come at a price.

But these survey results prompt me to ask if it is possible to evaluate if, on the whole, the promotion of Ulster Scots has been good for community relations in Northern Ireland?

I have seen some of the positive effects.

For instance, in July Mark Anderson, who freelances for the Ulster Scots Agency, provided my students with a Lambeg drum demonstration as part of our Summer School on Understanding Loyalism. The impressive, handmade drum that he used was named ‘The Ulster Scot.’

Anderson is a part of the movement that wants to promote benign, creative aspects of Ulster Scots culture, for instance, highlighting the craftsmanship that goes into making a Lambeg drum and participating in joint musical demonstrations with Irish traditional musicians.

On the other hand, there’s a suspicion that the work that Anderson and others like him do is just a drop in the bucket, not really having an impact beyond a select few.

That said, I was surprised that 55% of Protestants and 31% of Catholics agreed that the Ulster Scots language was a valuable part of Northern Ireland culture.

Again, those figures seem to me surprisingly high. If we can believe that those surveyed were not just being polite, could this indicate that the manufacture of an Ulster Scots identity has had some positive public impact?

The full report on the survey can be downloaded here.

[I was away last week, so I’d like to thank Chris Morris for alerting me to this story]

Photo: Students on the Irish School of Ecumenics, Trinity College Dublin at Belfast’s Summer School on Understanding Loyalism, with Mark Anderson and his Lambeg drum, the Ulster Scot.

On her blog, Berger provides a google map where women who are boycotting can mark their geographical location. She says,

Catholic women of the world unite. September 26 is the day to boycott Mass and pray for greater inclusion of women in the Catholic church.

Berger also cites a comment on an Irish Times article about the Sleeman story, where a writer said:

The church seems to forget God created Women also. Ladies – hit them in the pocketbook. that’s where it will hurt!! Time to weed the chaff from the wheat.

Why not go back to the HEDGEROW MASS, when we had to endure anti-Catholicism by the Brits.

Berger says of this idea,

I think “hedgerow Masses” are a great idea! This is the equivalent of the house-church movement in the United States or the base community movement in Latin America and SE Asia. Are there priests who are willing to serve these communities? My guess is that there are.

I think Berger makes a good point about there being priests out there who agree with the spirit of what Mrs Sleeman is asking people to do. They also understand the full symbolic significance of the action.

An indication of the power of Sleeman’s proposed action was that last week it prompted a response from the Catholic Church. The Catholic Communications Office said,

“The Mass is a community sacramental celebration of the life, death and resurrection of Our Lord Jesus.

“We would encourage people not to absent themselves from the Eucharist, where we re-enact the Last Supper and the Paschal mystery, following the command of Jesus, ‘Do this is memory of me’.

“The celebration of the Mass on Sundays and holy days of obligation is essential to the practice of the Catholic faith, as the Sunday Eucharist is a pivotal aspect of the spiritual lives of Catholics.”

Sleeman has since said men are welcome to join women in the boycott.

Reading the comments on my own blog, as well as letters in various newspapers and contributions by experts on radio programmes, I’m struck by the way in which many of those who oppose Sleeman’s action assert that she doesn’t know what she is doing.

For example, on my blog, John Lynch wrote,

Jennifer, you are obviously not a “serious” Catholic, since you are not boycotting the Catholic Church but Christ Himself. As you should believe, Christ is present on the Altar at every Mass and therefore asking Catholic women to stay away from Mass on September 26th is asking them to boycott Christ, their Lord God and Maker. Many Irish men and women lost their lives down through the years for their love of God and the Mass. If you want to protest, stay away yourself, but do not involve other souls by asking them to join you in your boycott.

Similarly, Paul Anthony Ward’s letter in the Irish Times said,

Jennifer Sleeman, with the best of intentions I’m sure, has so completely misunderstood the importance of the Celebration of the Eucharist to Catholics that I say “let her at it.” Indeed, for anyone who wishes to join her protest, go for it. Any Catholic who could so denigrate the Sacrifice of the Mass to a mere political tool has no business being there in the first place.

But I think that Jennifer Sleeman knows exactly what she’s doing. I couldn’t put it better than Tanya Jones did in a comment on my blog,

Do you think that perhaps it is the seriousness of Jennifer Sleeman’s Catholic faith that makes her action so powerful and poignant? If, as I imagine, she truly believes in the real presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, and is prepared to forego its consolation for the sake of the Church and her brothers and sisters, this shows the extent of her generosity and compassion. After all, fasting means very little if we don’t believe in the wholesomeness of food, and the truest celibates are those who acknowledge the holiness of marriage.

 

I think that Mrs. Sleeman’s proposal should also be prompting us to ask questions about just who is ‘boycotting’ Christ?

• Is it the people choosing to stay away from mass on September 26^th – people who are relatively powerless to change the structures of the Catholic Church to which they wish to remain faithful?
• Or is it the people in leadership who have treated victims of clerical sexual abuse and women so badly?

In Tuesday’s Irish Times, theology Professor James Mackey of Trinity College Dublin continued his series on the future of the Catholic Church in Ireland with a commentary titled, ‘Let the Struggle for Women’s Equality in the Church Continue and Intensify.’

Mackey quotes the ancient Irish saint Columbanus’ Letter to the Pope as an example of a Christian who knew when it was right to challenge the church hierarchy,

“As long as you teach truth, your authority over the universal church holds; as soon as you teach untruth, your authority ceases and reverts to the people of God, as a ruling custom of my (Irish) people illustrates.”

The sentiment behind Mrs. Sleeman’s proposal to boycott mass seems to resonate with Columbanus’ letter from so many generations ago. But as Sleeman herself told Patsy McGarry of the Irish Times, it’s up to Catholics themselves to decide,

“I’m not going to tell people what to do. That’s what the church does. People can do what they want.’”

(Photo of Hore Abbey, Cashel, sourced on flickr, by kelley.ch)

The guests were some of the usual suspects: Non-Subscribing Presbyterian (Unitarian) minister Rev. Chris Hudson, who supports civil partnerships, and  Traditional Unionist Voice’s David Vance, who does not.

One point that went unchallenged at the time by any caller was Vance’s claim that the liberalisation of the mainline churches in the United States had been the direct cause of their numerical decline relative to conservative, evangelical churches.

Vance argued that churches which supported gay marriage, civil partnerships, and/or any other seemingly liberal measures had paid for it by seeing people leaving them in their droves for churches that preached what Vance would consider the ‘true’ gospel.

The trouble is, sociological research doesn’t support this claim.

A comprehensive study by American sociologists Andrew Greeley and Michael Hout, published as a book, The Truth About Conservative Christians: What They Think and What They Believe (University of Chicago Press, 2006), draws on an extensive range of survey data to refute this ‘common sense’ argument. They write (p. 103-104):

The Conservatives, it is said, have a strong appeal for American Protestants because of their emphasis on traditional evangelical teachings. The Mainline clergy have sent their flocks elsewhere by some combination of liberal politics and ‘feel good’ religion. … the growth of the Conservative denominations represents a reaction against ‘excessive liberalism’ in which people raised in Mainline denominations register displeasure with the (supposed) liberal ethos of Mainline Protestantism by leaving to join denominations that emphasize the Conservative beliefs they share.

But Greeley and Hout are able to demonstrate that up to 70% of the growth of conservative churches (and the relative decline of the mainline churches) can be explained by higher birth rates among women in conservative denominations (p. 105).

That’s right: people aren’t switching their allegiance from the mainline to the conservative churches. Rather, the mainline Christians just aren’t having as many kids as the conservatives.

Sociologist Jim Wellman’s later study of churches in the Pacific Northwest of the United States, Evangelical vs. Liberal (Oxford University Press, 2008), lends further support to the demographic explanation.

Quite apart from pointing out that Vance’s claim just doesn’t hold up to sociological scrutiny, I think it’s important to interrogate the instrumentalist assumption behind what he said.

Vance seemed to be saying that churches should oppose civil partnerships because if they did not, they would see a direct drop in their membership.

So should churches be trying to please the most people so they don’t lose members, or should they rather be trying to do what is right?

Of course, Hudson and Vance disagree vehemently about what is right for churches to say and do around the issue of civil partnerships. It would be better if their ethical arguments were not clouded by false claims about religious demographics in the United States.

In some cases it’s a church building people choose to leave. For example, I recently came across a post on Erik Knutsen’s blog about his church’s experience of Peter Rollins’ Insurrection Tour. Knutsen says,

Last night, Britta and I watched Peter Rollins’ insurrection tour. Our church showed it this past Sunday, at our small group we heard that some people had been offended or confused, and one person had walked out during the Sunday service. Britta and I hadn’t been there on Sunday, but we really wanted to know what this video was all about.

In Knutsen’s description of what happened at his church, I was reminded of a comment I received from the audience when speaking about the emerging church at the evangelical New Horizon conference in Coleraine last month.

The speaker implied that New Horizon was no place for considering Rollins’ ideas, and that his book shouldn’t even have been on the reading list for the seminar. The rationale was that Rollins’ ideas were too unorthodox, too heretical, and that it would be damaging or dangerous for people’s faith were they to contemplate them.

Knutsen goes on to write clearly and carefully about his own reaction to Rollins, and how it has challenged him to think in new ways.

I would generally agree with Knutsen: it is better to listen to Rollins’ and the emerging churches’ critiques of Christianity, than to walk away if you do not agree with them in certain areas.

People involved in the emerging church may be making points that are uncomfortable and difficult to take on board, but hearing the emerging churches’ critiques in an open spirit might actually help ‘traditional’ or ‘institutionalised’ churches to change for the better.

In other cases, people are walking out on the church, as an institution, altogether. This past week has seen Marie Collins, an Irish campaigner for victims of clerical abuse, confess on William Crawley’s Sunday Sequence that she is leaving the Catholic Church, and novelist Anne Rice announcing that she too is quitting institutionalised Christianity.

Collins and Rice are fed up with the churches for similar reasons. Collins emphasised her despair at the way the hierarchy of the Catholic Church has let its people down, while Rice has condemned all forms of organised religion.

Collins and Rice are critics of bigger, more powerful, ‘institutionalised’ churches which they believe haven’t take their criticisms, and the criticisms of many others like them, on board.

Rather than walking out because they don’t want to hear what a critic has to say, they are leaving because their experience has been that people in powerful positions in churches just don’t want to have serious and respectful dialogue.

Also on yesterday’s Sunday Sequence, Crawley quizzed Rollins and Fr Brian D’Arcy about the Anne Rice case (segment starts 35 min into the programme). Rollins did not defend the institutionalised expression of Christianity that Rice is exiting, nor would he (or D’Arcy for that matter!) have been expected to.

But Rollins did say he was concerned that Rice was advocating a privatised form of Christianity that, divorced from a ‘community’ in which people hold each other accountable, would become too individualistic and not engage compassionately in the messy, real world in which we all live.

I wonder if, eventually, people involved in the emerging church will come to the same conclusions that Collins and Rice have very understandably come to in their personal religious journeys:

That it is no longer productive to try to engage in conversation about what it means to be a Christian today with larger, more powerful ‘institutionalised’ churches?

(Image sourced on flickr, by Dean Terry)