Jonathan Dodd‘s latest column. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
We went to a lovely wedding last weekend. It was your perfect August English wedding, a genuine love match, everyone very happy, the sun shining, and everything running smoothly. We had a wonderful time.
The ceremony was held in a lovely old village church in the heart of Somerset, surrounded by a venerable old churchyard. The vicar was excellent, making it feel as if he knew the bride and groom, and adding comments and small jokes that included everyone and made the whole thing feel natural and comfortable.
The allure of the routine
I’ve always had an interesting relationship with religion and churches. Whenever I find myself inside one attending a service or ceremony I do react to the allure of the routine and the words and the organ music and the patina of age. But I’ve always had a problem with the basic idea of the religion itself. It doesn’t do anything at all for me.
Anyway, last weekend, as I sat there in my pew, listening to the words and looking round at the lovely ceiling and the golden stone of the pillars, with the sunshine flooding in through the stained glass windows, I had a revelation.
Some words from the celestial sponsor
I was listening to the vicar declaiming wonderful and solemn words about the vows the couple were making to each other, and I was moved and completely involved in the moment, until he crowbarred in at the end some words from the celestial sponsor, and I realised what I wanted.
I thought about the job the vicar was doing, and I wanted his job. I thought about all the qualities you need to have, and how well I fit the profile, and then, with dismay, I thought about the one thing I couldn’t put on the CV when applying. The fact that I feel nothing for the message. And then this is what I thought.
Because you’d like to belong to something
How wonderful it would be if there was a church for people who don’t believe in God, or even for those who don’t really know, but would still like to get together and celebrate life and all its wonder, have ceremonies for great life events and do good works, because they can, rather because they believe in a specific version of deity.
I am happy in my own beliefs, but I’ve never been able to find a religious organisation that I can agree with. In fact, every religious organisation I’ve ever come across demands complete belief in a set of rules and dogma before you can join. I’d like to find a church that welcomes you because you’d like to belong to something, rather than because you agree with everything it stands for.
A very blurred line
I looked around at all the people in that church last weekend, and wondered how many of them believed in the prayers they were muttering, or practised what these prayers expected of them, and I wondered how many people who go to church regularly do so because of the sense of belonging and comfort, rather than the beliefs that are required.
There’s always been a very blurred line in churches between the exact requirements of belief in a religious system and the habit of religions to acquire power and influence. They tend not to enquire too closely into the behaviour of their members, preferring them to turn up on Sunday rather than live the beliefs during the rest of the week.
What they say and what they do
The churches did have a monopoly in parts of the world for many centuries, probably up to my parents’ generation, and I think that’s been loosening for some time. I remember the 2011 census showed a sharp rise in people who professed to having no religion.
I think that much of the appeal of churches lies in the certainty they proclaim that they – each of them – have the one and only correct version of the truth. At the same time the hypocrisy that becomes more apparent lately shows the gap between what they say and what they do. This is causing people to turn away in larger numbers. But they don’t have any alternatives.
If you build it, they will come
I think there’s a hole in the market here. I’d like to start a church for all the disenfranchised people out there who feel lost and rejected, who do have a sense of the extraordinary and beautiful world we live in, and who do feel in their hearts and souls that life should be celebrated. I’d like to find a place where we can get together and celebrate without having to agree with the people next to us about how and why it all came to be and who’s in charge.
I’ve always felt like this, and I have no idea whether I’m alone or whether there are millions of people out there who feel the same. In this life, if you love Formula 1 or kite-flying, or tap-dancing or almost anything else, there’s a club or an organisation that you can join and enjoy being in the company of others who feel the same as you. Where’s the organisation for those who feel spiritually disenfranchised? If there isn’t one, then someone has to start it.
But I need a name first.
If you have been, thank you for reading this.
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