The Church and change

,

European Business Review

ISSN: 0955-534X

Article publication date: 1 December 2001

170

Citation

Barney Milligan, C. and OBE (2001), "The Church and change", European Business Review, Vol. 13 No. 6. https://doi.org/10.1108/ebr.2001.05413faf.001

Publisher

:

Emerald Group Publishing Limited

Copyright © 2001, MCB UP Limited


The Church and change

The Church and change

After 40 years service in the church, first in urban parishes in Portsmouth and London, then at a very lively cathedral in the home counties and, for my final nine years, in Strasbourg with certain responsibilities on the European front, I find myself a country parson. Retired, supernumerary and non-stipendiary, but not inactive; for I am delighted to be asked to do duties most Sundays in one of the country churches in the 15 parishes which are part of our local team. So I have come to know and love these village churches, some in what are better described as hamlets, and the people who go there, some, not all, in very small numbers.

The Church of England report "Faith in the countryside" came out in 1990 when I was serving in Strasbourg. So we held a session for members of the European Parliament with rural constituencies (as we had done for urban-based MEPs for "Faith in the city"). It was interesting but, in view of our Common Agricultural Policy and our closeness to one another, hardly surprising to see how similar were the problems and the opportunities for the churches and the communities they served across the then member states. These included:

  • the problems of over-production;

  • the smaller numbers working in agriculture despite the increase of population in the rural areas;

  • the growth of light industry in the countryside including "agri-industry"; the diversification of land use and the growth of tourism; and

  • the threats of closure of banks, shops and schools.

These were noted in the report and their significance assessed and much of Europe was in the same boat.

In the decade since that meeting, the countryside in Europe, and more particularly in England, has had to face problems harsher than for many years. BSE and now foot-and-mouth disease have brought turmoil and trauma and in some cases tragedy to the whole rural community.

All this calls for pastoral care and radical thinking, some with a prophetic edge to it. The churches are doing their best to respond. In particular, the Arthur Rank Centre at Stoneleigh in Warwickshire, the permanent home of the Royal Show, is leading from the front (Jeremy Martineau, the Church of England Rural Officer, is based here and it was he who came out to Strasbourg to introduce "Faith in the Countryside" ten years ago).

It is, however, a little poignant that as these new tasks present themselves for the rural churches not only at the "centre", but also in the parishes. There should be, it seems, a serious outbreak of gloom and dire prognostications about the future of all the churches, particularly the Church of England. Although obituaries are distinctly premature – there are many encouraging stories – there is no escaping the fact that there is a crisis concerning both money and members which is raising some serious questions.

Among my friends in the local churches where I am now living there are those who occasionally express such fears to me. Like me they love their church and struggle to keep it in good order, often leaving it open all day every day so that people may enjoy the place and come and go as they wish. But my friends, the actual church members, are not so young as they used to be and they are realists. How will things be in ten, 15 years time? Where will their much-loved church buildings be then?

Some take a radical view. A recent letter in The Times declares "Country chapels with tiny congregations should, most of them, be sold off. The new rich, with city bonuses, will pay good money to equip them with Agas and make them into mini manor houses – and the church can do with the 'dosh' … Can we afford", he ends, with a fine rhetorical flourish, "to maintain and heat remote medieval buildings so that six people and two church mice can enjoy Evensong on some Sundays?" It so happens that it was a friend of mine who sent the letter, and when he sent me a copy, he scribbled beside his signature "Tongue in cheek". So perhaps he was trying to overstate the case to get the argument going. But an argument there must be. For the problems will not just go away.

My friend the letter-writer is a member – indeed a lay minister, or reader – of the Church of England. On the other hand, Simon Jenkins, author of England's 1,000 Best Churches, declares himself firmly as a non-believer. But he writes with undisguised affection and respect for those churches and those many unknown people who have, over the centuries, found a kind of meaning, a kind of home, in such buildings. "As they arrived they hurled their hopes against those walls, wept on alters, and filled rafters with their cries" he writes such places do not force me to my knees, but they whisper to me to tread softly, as they did to Philip Larkin, bidding time to 'take off my cycle clips in awkward reverence'€". Jenkins writes with passion about the signals which such places send out to a community, believers and non-believers alike.

Church buildings are not the sine qua non of the ministry of the church. Nor is it only church people who care about their hard-pressed neighbours or foster community life. Far from it. However, the buildings, especially those which are historic and, in some cases, really ancient and sometimes beautiful, are important symbols not only of the presence of the church in today's world, but of a corporate memory and an attempt to find a meaning for, of something totally non-utilitarian, but nevertheless, truly significant in a world lacking signposts. They are too important an inheritance to lose.

It is, however, unrealistic to assume that the resources of the church can maintain these buildings permanently: thus far my friend, the letter-writer to The Times, is right. It would be regrettable, but there might even be one or two Agas installed. Much more importantly, the support of other bodies like English Heritage and the Churches' Conservation Trust, both already playing a part, will doubtless increase. But the assistance of the state on a larger scale may well be required, as is the case with some of our European neighbours such as France, and also to a lesser degree in Germany and some Scandinavian countries.

But dare we hope that at the time when the countryside and its people face trials as grave as any they have known, the faith communities will not only find a sensible and effective way of retaining their inheritance but actually know a kind of regeneration? I recall that, when I visited the churches of the Common Market in 1970, I concluded in my report that the reunion of the churches would be more likely to come about through financial necessity than theological agreements. All the churches face shortages of money, clergy or members, or all three. We are in the same boat. We are called to the same ministry. We could share buildings. We could act in unity even if the authorities take a little longer to sign the deeds.

For if there is to be a brighter future for the rural ministry it must be ecumenical. In the pastoral care of the rural community it would be absurd to see the separated churches acting separately – and in bringing theological insights to bear on questions of the community, the environment or style of farming there is nothing to choose between the teachings of one church or another. The Stoneleigh Centre sets a good example: all the churches are involved. In fact one can go further, for other faiths share may of the same convictions: it is not only in the New Testament but the Old Testament that the churches find much of their inspiration in this field – and that we share with the Jews.

There is another area of partnership in the immediate community. It is now nearly 40 years since some churches, notably in urban areas, collaborated with their neighbours to provide within their churches, facilities for a wide variety of activities – social service offices, youth club, coffee bar etc. – and this without losing the sense of the holy, as the services were held regularly in the main building. The large city centre churches of Bramall Lane, Sheffield and Woolwich were two examples of this imaginative approach. In the ensuing years there were fewer such schemes. But now they are happening again – and in the country areas. It has been especially useful when facilities are being withdrawn. The people of Moggerhammer in Bedfordshire, for example, mourned the loss of their shop. So the church offered the vestry where a flourishing business now exists. Blakeney in Norfolk and Tamworth in Staffordshire are two other examples, among many, where the church building is used for a wide variety of other uses from an arts festival to a polling station, from lunch club to a branch surgery. Two things are clear:

  1. 1.

    it is always a question of assessing the community need, in the recognition that the buildings were always intended to be for the community as a whole; and

  2. 2.

    it is extremely rare for there to be any loss of that sense of awe and reverence when the church serves in a variety of "secular" ways.

When a local church with few resources comes to face what are sometimes alarming problems of maintaining its church building and applies for funding, from whatever source, there is a strong case for the proposal that it should be agreed on condition that ecumenical and community factors have been taken into account, and the offer to open the door has been made.

The time to rebuild the European Common Agricultural Policy is now upon us. It is of course necessary to learn the lessons of the recent plagues of BSE and foot-and-mouth, and to take them into account. The enlargement of the EU to include several countries to the east with large farming communities will demand enormous skill and patience. But there is also a need for vision and meaning and an awareness of the mystery of our human experience. Many people and groups will offer their distinctive insights on both fronts. Among them the churches and the faith communities can play their part: and here the church buildings also have their tale to tell.

The first words of Jenkins' (1991) splendid book are a quotation from Philip Larkin. They are appropriate to stand at the end of this article:

A serious house on serious earth it isIn whose blent air all our compulsions meet,Are recognised and robed as destiniesand that much never can be obsolete.

Canon Barney Milligan, OBE

ReferenceJenkins, S. (1991), When Clergymen Ruled the Earth, Minstrel, Eastbourne.

Related articles