Why me –making a difference on God’s name - Janet Gough, Sunday 4 March 2018, St John the Baptist, Holland Road
Why me –making
a difference on God’s name - Janet Gough, Sunday 4 March 2018, St John the Baptist, Holland Road
On paper my
journey of faith is an easy one. Brought up in a conventional Anglican
church-going family, with a thorough evangelical Sunday school education
followed by two schools firmly rooted in the Church of England and most
recently I worked at Church House in Westminster.
But it’s not
that straightforward. My teenage children and their friends remind me of my own
deep scepticism about organised religion in my late teens that carried on well
through my university years, 20s and beyond.
The Church has
not always covered itself in glory. The Crusades were my special subject for
history A Level and I am now a trustee at the Priory of the Order of St John or
Hospitallers, today better known as St John Ambulance. But we all abhor religious extremism and I
found it difficult to reconcile many of the motivations and actions in the Crusades
with God’s universal love.
I was a little
involved in preparations to commemorate the centenary of the First World War, but
was disheartened to learn how much the Church did to encourage men to enlist
and how little later to support them once out fighting. There were notable exceptions like Woodbine
Willie the Worcestershire vicar who tended to men in the trenches often offering
soldiers a cigarette, and the opening of the vaults of St Martin-in-the-fields
as a place of respite near Charring Cross for returning troops.
Today it’s hard
not to open a newspaper without reading further horrors of the Church and other
institutions towards vulnerable young people (although I do think we overlook
the much greater good the Church has done for so many young And vulnerable
people). And the Reformation whose 500th
anniversary we have begun to celebrate produced as a by-product horrific torturing,
burnings and other injustices inflicted by influential churchmen and women on
other poor pious souls for many years afterwards.
My own personal
bugbear concerns women in the church. I was a young woman during the long
struggle to enable women to become priests. It then took a further 20 years and
almost greater campaigning to enable women to be promoted from priest to bishop,
so I am delighted about the appointment of Bishop Sarah Mullally as bishop-elect
of London. And I know this remains a difficult
and sensitive subject but I hope we can all accept with God-given if often difficult
grace others’ differing viewpoints.
***
I think too you
can see that in everything I’ve mentioned, there have been good and misguided
examples from people of faith. And here
is the crux for me, it is the faith and good works of individuals, often in the
most difficult and humble circumstances that has ultimately won me over to
deep-seated belief in the fundamental good that can be wrought by accepting
God’s love into our lives and sharing that love with others.
I was hugely
privileged to work as director of Cathedrals and Church Buildings for the
Church of England for eight years. Anyone who sets foot inside one of the 42
cathedrals or the 16,000 parish churches three quarters of which are listed of
historic interest and value, cannot but be impressed by the love, skill and
craftsmanship that has gone into creating some of the most sublime and
awe-inspiring architecture fashioned by man for the glory of God.
Last Sunday in
a private evening visit to St Mark’s Basilica, Venice I had the most incredible
experience. We were sat in total
darkness in the nave when slowly the lights were turned up. The interior of the 11th century
basilica, a Greek cross with many domes made of the perfect or holy circle is totally
covered in golden mosaics and the Cosmati pavement beneath recreates the Book
of Revelation’s sea of frozen water. In
an utterly medieval way, heaven was revealed to us on earth. And I was deeply aware of God’s enveloping presence
across the centuries.
I’m often moved
by the sublime achievements in stone, in the vaulted ceilings, carved bosses, stained-glass
and much more all for the glory of God in our great churches and cathedrals. But sometimes these are created at
significant cost. In Gloucester Cathedral there is a poignant sculpted monument
to a medieval mason staring down with arms and legs outstretched - it is thought
he is falling to his death while working at a great height. These medieval masons
created magnificent and holy spaces where prayer has been valid for many
centuries. Unlike secular historic buildings our cathedrals are open 365 days a
year to all comers offering a wide range of divine and other services to the
community. I have been lucky to enjoy magnificent services in Westminster Abbey
to welcome the Pope and celebrate 400 years of the King James Bible as well as to
participate in a quiet evening prayer in the Edward Maufe extension in more
humble Bradford Cathedral.
And the same
goes for parish churches. I’ve watched on the side-lines the evolution of many parish
church renewal projects, which done properly with full involvement of the
community are often incredibly affirming processes. Starting from working out the vision, to the plans
and permissions, to creative fundraising and finally the project involving so
much more of the local and sometimes the national community. In my churches book I cover one of these
recent inspiring renewal stories from St Martin of Tours in Bilbrough. At St Martin’s against all the odds a tiny
but dedicated group of parishioners from a challenged suburb on the edges of
Nottingham stripped back an ill-conceived 70’s extension that had cut off the
old church. They re-accessed and conserved
the medieval church and uncovered and restored stunning and significant 20th-century
wall paintings. In the process they have not only won prizes but have generated
a much stronger worshipping community.
And you don’t
need a new roof or loo to welcome the lonely into your church. Last month and again tomorrow I shall be
filling the lecture spot at St Stephen Rochester Row as part of a full-on day
of activities for the over 50s held every Monday thanks to a philanthropist and
an energetic curate. It starts with a computer class, then Zumba in the nave,
free lunch provided by left over sandwiches from Pret a manger, a singing class,
the arts lecture, tea at 3 and finishing up with Eucharist. On my visit the Zumba include a man recovering
from a stroke with his wife. And to my surprise and delight in my lecture an
elderly Afro-Caribbean man called out the names of every single cathedral I put
up on the screen, even of the obscure shots.
The first time that’s ever been achieved!
Most of all it’s
the example of other people that has deepened my faith in God. From my mother who later in life became a lay
Franciscan, to my brother who has lived life of faith and as important
demonstrated the godly life always finding time for others and to help where
help is needed. As a younger person I
had problems with different churchmanship and my brother and I can still
fundamentally I disagree about the uses of church buildings, but over time I’ve
looked beyond all that and learnt to
appreciate better the many different and surprising , practical and spiritual
ways God’s love can be manifested.
And I’m
inspired by strangers too.
Recently I’ve
been profoundly impressed by the ongoing selfless effort of the four vicars
featured in the BBC 2’s series, A Vicar’s Life.
It’s just finished, but I’m sure you can get on catch-up TV. It’s set in the predominately rural and not
wealthy diocese of Hereford (though set in glorious countryside and with many
gorgeous church buildings!). Every week it’s been inspiring to watch, working
in God’s name for instance the curate who helped the homeless lady camping on a
roundabout in Hereford find a proper home and then kept looking out for her. And
the female vicar who connected a recently widowed parishioner with a young man trying
to succeed in an apprenticeship by mentoring him and helping him develop his
maths and reading skills alongside the woodwork he loves so much.
This Lent I’m following
the Church’s Shrinking the Footprint
campaign to reduce our dependence on plastics. Every day in Lent the Bishop of
Dudley tweets a new idea on how we can cut out plastic. As the Times newspaper
observed, this is not just lip service, this is a tangible national campaign to
make a difference – led by the church. It is just one of many campaigns for
good that has converted me back to my belief in the practical, powerful love of
God expressed through the Church and his followers.
There’s a lovely
campaign being gently conducted on Twitter and elsewhere to promote and celebrate
the joys of choral evensong. Cleverly
those behind it are looking to attract those who simply love music, emphasising
the fantastic free music performances found in many cathedrals and churches
that we call Choral Evensong. Where else
can you find such high quality of choral music on a regular basis free of
charge? And it’s just possible it might even transport its listeners to a Godly
spirituality released from the daily cares of life.
I’m used to
hearing Evensong beautifully sung by professional choirs in extraordinary cathedral
settings. So I was bowled over to come to the Advent service at St John the
Baptist on 10 December last year. The choir of 20 to 30-somethings was
substantial and supremely professional, the music produced as good as any I’ve
heard in a cathedral, the darkened church was brought to light and not
surprisingly it was packed.
Over a glass of
wine after the service French lady carrying her shopping told me she had just
come in from the street she saw the lights and heard the music. And for me the experience was nothing if not
hugely faith-enhancing.
Thanks be to
God
Janet Gough OBE
05 March
2018