A Melancholy, long, withdrawing roar .......

Through my rear view mirror the past, as Meatloaf warned, seems much closer.

There was a mention on TV last evening about a time, 30 years ago, followed by the year in question 1990. 

1990, but that was only yesterday, we both said in unison.

But of course 1990 was 30 years ago. Time flies?

I was ordained, deaconed, in 1969, and that was 53 years ago. I was 24 years old. Far too young to take on the responsibilities of a curate in the Church of England, there were still young people, teenagers, in the congregation, but much of my pastoral work involved sitting with the dying, taking funerals and visiting the sick and the lonely.

Now 53 years later I have retired for the 2nd time. My first retirement was, as an Archdeacon commented, far too early, this retirement was, as another Archdeacon implied, far too late.

Like dinosaurs and dodo's and other extinct animals I am it seems, as Chris Farlow sang out of time:

You don't know what's going on 
You've been away for far too long 
You can't come back and think you are still mine 
You're out of touch, my baby 
My poor discarded baby 
I said, baby, baby, baby, you're out of time 

It seems that I am not the only one. Others are retiring, resigning and simply leaving a Church that, as in the song, is out of touch. The key words, of course are decline, the Church is declining both numerically and in terms of influence, fewer people now subscribe to the articles of faith, fewer people believe in God, and fewer people know the stories associated with belief, stories about Jesus, Miracles, Compassion and belief in a life that can outlive death.

The latest announcements suggests that the Archbishop's believe that you can throw money at the problem and that it will go away. Somehow people will be brought back to faith if we support more food banks and preach social justice. Not that I am against either principles but, it seems to me, both food banks and social justice should be expressions of faith not evangelistic principles to drag people into the church, human compassion is human compassion, despite the sea of faith drawing further and further out?

And then there is 'safeguarding' obviously you cannot be against ensuring that everyone who enters the church, understood both as a building and a community, must be safe, must feel safe, both the active fit and well and those who are vulnerable. I have experienced inappropriate attention from a member of the clergy when I was younger, but as a fit and able young man I fought back and rebuffed my attacker, but I then fled from that place at speed, and told no-one about it.

But 'safeguarding' has taken over the life of the church. It is an independent and expensive 'industry' within the church and wields its muscles accordingly even assuming that the normal principles of hierarchy do not apply, after all even Bishop's have to submit to 'safeguarding' and the safeguarding officer in most diocese, calls the shots.

So as I retire for the second time I look in my rear view mirror and see the past smaller and further away than ever.

I have a book coming out in the Autumn, which I have entitled "Holy Disorder' and in which I have been able to give some expression to my disquiet about what has happened to the Church that I have loved since my ordination.

Friends who have read the Mss. comment that I have accurately described the growth of vocation but that I have also illustrated Matthew Arnold's description of the sea of faith withdrawing also accurately.

The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,

There is talk about 'mixed economies', churches led by lay people because there are no longer clergy available to lead them, parishes ceasing to exist because they are no longer the focus of mission, congregationalism is on the rise, alongside the HTB'inisation of the church, with its Alpha courses and church planting.

When I was a Cathedral Canon I was of the view that Cathedrals might at some point in the future be all we have left. This Easter I attended the Eucharist at a Cathedral and was treated to Anglican worship at its liturgical finest accompanied by an erudite and accessible sermon preached to a full congregation. 

It seems that for those who love the Church of England Cathedral worship will remain but the life of the parishes will continue to suffer and decline as the melancholy, long, withdrawing roar becomes deafening.