A Christian Britain in a Plural World?

The rapid fragmentation of society, the emergence of isolated communities with only tenuous links to their wider context and the impact of home-gown terrorism have all led even hard-bitten, pragmatist politicians to ask questions about ‘Britishness’: what is at the core of British identity; how can it be reclaimed, passed on and owned by more and more people?

The answer to these questions cannot be only in terms of the ‘thin’ values, such as respect, tolerance, good behaviour, etc, which are usually served up by those scratching around for something to say.  In fact, the answer can only be given after rigorous investigation into the history of nationhood and of the institutions, laws, customs and values which have arisen to sustain and to enhance it.  In this connection, as with the rest of Europe, it cannot be gainsaid, that the very idea of a unified people under God living in a ‘golden chain’ of social harmony has everything to do with the arrival and flourishing of Christianity in these parts.  It is impossible to imagine how else a rabble of mutually hostile tribes, fiefdoms and kingdoms could have become a nation conscious of its identity and able to make an impact on the world.  In England, particularly, this consciousness goes back a long way and is reflected, for example, in a national network of care for the poor which was yet locally based in the parishes and was already in place in the sixteenth century.

In some ways, I am the least qualified to write about such matters.  There have been, and are today, many eminent people in public and academic life who have a far greater claim to reflect on these issues than I have.  Perhaps my only justification, for even venturing into this field, is to be found in Kipling when he said, ‘What should they know of England who only England know?’  It may be then that to understand the precise relation of the Christian faith to the public life of this nation, a perspective is helpful which is both rooted in the life of this country and able to look at it from the outside.

As I survey the field, what do I see?  I find, first of all, 'a descending theme' in terms of Christian influence.  That is to say, I find that the systems of governance, of the rule of law, of the assumption of trust in common life find their inspiration in Scripture, for example in the Pauline doctrine of the godly Magistrate, and, ultimately, in the Christian doctrine of God the Holy Trinity where you have both an ordered relationship and a mutuality of love.  As Joan O’Donovan has pointed out the notion of God’s right, or God’s justice, produced a network of divine, human and natural law which was the basis of a just ordering of society and also of a mutual sense of obligation 'one towards another', as we say at Prayers for the Parliament.  Such a descending theme of influence continues to permeate society but is especially focussed in constitutional arrangements such as the 'Queen in Parliament under God', the Queen’s Speech which always ends with a prayer for Almighty God to bless the counsels of the assembled Parliament, daily prayers in Parliament, the presence of bishops in the House of Lords, the national flag, the national anthem, and the list could go on.  None of this should be seen as 'icing on the cake' or as interesting and tourist-friendly vestigial elements left over from the Middle Ages.  They have the purpose of weaving the awareness of God into the body politic of the nation.

In addition to this 'descending theme', there is also what we might call the 'ascending theme', which comes up from 'below', as it were, to animate debate and policy-making in the institutions of state.  Much of this has to do with our estimate of the human person and how that affects the business of making law and of governance.  Such an estimate goes right back to the rediscovery of Aristotle by Europe – a rediscovery, incidentally, made possible by the work of largely Christian translators in the Islamic world.  These translators made Aristotle, and much else besides, available to the Muslims who used it, commented upon it and passed it on to Western Europe.  One of the features of the rediscovery was a further appreciation of the human person as agent by Christian thinkers like St Thomas Aquinas.  They were driven to read the Bible in the light of Aristotle and this had several results which remain important for us today.  One was the discovery of conscience.  If the individual is morally and spiritually responsible before God, then we have to think also of how conscience is formed by the Word of God and the church’s proclamation of it so that freedom can be exercised responsibly.  Another result was the emergence of the idea that because human persons were moral agents, their consent was needed in the business of governance.  It is not enough now simply to draw on notions of God’s right or justice for patterns of government.  We need also the consent of the governed who have been made in God’s image (a term which comes into the fore-ground).  This dual emphasis on conscience and consent led to people being seen as citizens rather than merely as subjects.

The Reformation also had a view about governance as well as the significant of the individual which was to prove important for the future.  The theme of natural rights was taken up by the Dominicans on the continent in the context of defending the freedom and the possessions of the indigenous inhabitants of the Americas.  From there, it influenced prominent thinkers of the moderate Enlightenment in this country, such as John Locke, who were attempting to re-think a Christian basis for society.  This was also the context for the Evangelical revival in the 18th century.  Whilst the Evangelicals drew inspiration from the Bible for their humanitarian projects, such as the abolition of slavery, universal education and humane conditions for men, women and children, the Enlightenment provided them with the intellectual tools and the moral vision of natural rights so that they could argue their case in the public sphere.  It was this Evangelical-Enlightenment consensus which brought about the huge social changes of the 19th and early 20th centuries and which came under sustained attack in the second-half of the 20th century.

Sociologists of Religion have been telling us that the process of secularisation has been a very long one and, indeed, locate its origin precisely in the Enlightenment's rejection of heteronomous authority and its affirmation of autonomy.  Historians, on the other hand, point out that faith flourished in industrial Britain in the nineteenth century and in the first part of the last century.  Indeed, it is possible to say that it continued to prosper well into the 1950s.  Was it long-term decline then or sudden demise?  In fact, there are elements of truth in both approaches.  It seems to be the case, however, that something momentous happened in the 1960s which has materially altered the scene: Christianity began to be more and more marginal to the 'public doctrine' by which the nation ordered itself and this state of affairs has continued to the present day.  Many reasons have been given for this situation.  Callum Brown has argued that it was the cultural revolution of the 1960s which brought Christianity's rôle in society to an abrupt and catastrophic end.  He notes, particularly, the part played by women in upholding piety and in passing on the faith in the home.  It was the loss of this faith and piety among women which caused the steep decline in Christian observance in all sections of society.  Peter Mullen and others, similarly, have traced the situation to student unrest of the 1960s which they claim was inspired by Marxism of one sort or another.  The aim was to overturn what I have called the Evangelical-Enlightenment consensus so that revolution may be possible.  One of the ingredients in their tactics was to encourage a social and sexual revolution so that a political one would, in due course, come about.  Mullen points out, that instead of the churches resisting this phenomenon, liberal theologians and church leaders all but capitulated to the intellectual and cultural forces of the time.

It is situation which has created the moral and spiritual vacuum in which we now find ourselves.  Whilst the Christian consensus was dissolved, nothing else, except perhaps endless self-indulgence, was put in its place.  Happily Marxism, in its various forms, has been shown to be the philosophical, historical and economic nonsense that it was.  We are now, however, confronted by another equally serious ideology, that of radical Islamism, which also claims to be comprehensive in scope.  What resources do we have to face yet another ideological battle?  The scramblings and scratchings around of politicians and of elements in the media for 'values' which would provide ammunition in this battle are to be seen in this light.  As we have seen, however, this is extremely thin gruel and hardly adequate for the task before us.  Our investigation has shown us the deep and varied ways in which the beliefs, values and virtues of Great Britain have been formed by the Christian faith.  The consequences of the loss of this discourse are there for all to see: the destruction of the family because of the alleged parity of different forms of life together, the loss of a father figure, especially for boys, because the role of fathers is deemed otiose, the abuse of substances (including alcohol), the loss of respect for the human person leading to horrendous and mindless attacks on people, the increasing communications-gap between generations and social classes, the list is very long.

Is it possible to restore such discourse at the heart of our common life?  Some would say it is not possible.  Matters have gone too far in one direction and we cannot retrace our steps.  Others would be hostile to the very idea.  They have constructed their lives and philosophies around the demise of Christianity as an element in public life and they would be very inconvenienced if it was to put in an appearance again.  It remains the case, however, that many of the beliefs and values which we need to deal with the present situation are rooted in the Judaeo-Christian tradition.  Are we to receive these as a gift, in our present circumstances, or, once again, turn our backs on them?