In this introduction to a series Mark Chater explores the theme of fear and identity within the context of modern UK churches through four fictional yet realistic scenarios. Watch out for the next instalment.
The Schoolgirl
Fionn, aged 12, is alone in her room. Something has just arrived by special delivery, she’d ordered it online, and now she holds it in her hand with a tremor of excitement. It was timed to arrive when she knew her parents would be out. She knows what it is, knows her parents won’t understand and definitely wouldn’t approve. She’s wondering whether to put it on now, and where to hide it.
The idea of getting a chest binder came to her when school organised some visiting speakers. For months Fionn had been feeling confused, pulled in different directions. Her body was beginning to change and it was scarey, the whole idea of being a woman seemed full of problems. Her imagination ran off in another direction, envying the freedom boys have, and daydreaming about Elena, her best friend. Fionn felt a chaotic situation going on inside her and she felt a deep, urgent need to gain control of it. Her family are religious and go on a lot about how God created male and female. She can’t see how she fits into that scheme, and is starting to drift away from religion.
The Student
Rebekah completed her Masters in reproductive rights last year and is now working for a doctorate at a university with a strong science research profile. Her thesis is about detransitioning, a process which happens when some people who have identified as the opposite sex decide to go back to their original identity. Detransitioning is sometimes a social process involving change of names and pronouns, and sometimes a biochemical journey to attempt to reverse the changes brought about by hormone treatment or surgery. Rebekah’s research involves interviewing detransitioners and drawing out some common themes. She is really into the topic, talks about it a lot, and tries to avoid making any judgements about individuals or wider issues.
One day after a seminar in which she was sharing her provisional findings, a university chaplain approached her in the corridor. The chaplain engaged her in conversation, said gently that the topic was ‘very controversial’, and advised Rebekah that some of her findings might be seen as ‘problematic’ or ‘toxic’ by some people. The chaplain then asked whether she had any personal security to ensure her safety on campus. Rebekah stops walking, stands in the nearly empty corridor and can’t quite believe what she has heard.
The Church goer
Callum, age 21, found his new church a lot more welcoming than the last one, where they had forced him out for being gay. First they’d taken him off the rota for leading a youth group. Then they’d prayed over him, asking God to deliver him from his sickness. That was when he knew he had to leave, for his own wellbeing and to preserve his faith. The new place seemed really inclusive. They loved the fact that he was musical, and quickly found a place for him in the worship group. He came out to the group’s members one evening as they were chatting after the service, and it seemed quite easy. ‘That’s cool’, said one. ‘Praise God, gender equality here we come’, said another with a warm smile.
Then Pride Month happened, and someone decided to festoon the church with rainbow flags. Callum asked someone what all the new colours meant. Nobody could explain. The preaching and prayers were all about how wonderful it was that God had created a world of gender diversity. Callum was invited to give testimony about his gender identity. ‘I don’t really have one’, he said. ‘I’m just a man who is attracted to other men. I don’t want to be anything that I’m not.’ Some people’s faces looked shocked, others disappointed. He began to get the feeling that he’d said something wrong.
The Bishop
Frank has been a Church of England bishop for ten years. He is middle-of-the-road and wants to influence the church in a more tolerant and inclusive direction. His wife Sue is a teacher and they have two children under ten. Many in the diocese see Frank as a ‘high-flyer’ who could make Archbishop next time. He is modest enough not to think of himself in that way, he just wants to do God’s will in his ministry, be a symbol of unity, and move very gradually towards change, taking everyone with him.
On his desk one morning there is a letter from an organisation he has vaguely heard of, representing people who are ‘queer and Christian’. The letter demands several policy changes in General Synod and while he is sympathetic to some of the ideas, he is, if he’s honest, nettled by the tone of the letter. It implies that he and the church are homophobic and transphobic. The message includes a long list of letters, presumably standing for particular lifestyles or identities, but they are not spelt out. While he knows the first few letters, he is not sure what some of the later ones mean. He googles them and gets some enlightenment, but is soon drawn into a vast universe of complexity and quickly feels that he is in deep waters. Frank is used to receiving correspondence criticising him personally or the church in general. He knows his reply should be charitable. He sends up a brief prayer for guidance and drafts a non-committal acknowledgement. He will return to the issue later.
Interpretation
Each of us may interpret these scenarios in many ways. The stories are fictional, but woven together from fragments of real life in UK churches in the 2020s. For me, two things stand out.
Ffion, Rebekah, Callum and Frank are afraid. Their fear takes many forms: Ffion is fearful about her own changing body and feelings, in ways that can affect many adolescents. Rebekah is worried about her personal safety, and spooked by the chaplain’s words. Callum lives with the anxiety that church will force him out for a second time. Frank is perplexed by an aggressive campaigning organisation, wants to do good, but cannot see how to move forward.
Fear is a very common human emotion. The churches believe in a God who, in Christ, often tells them ‘Do not be afraid’. What does it mean to trust God, to trust in God’s creation, to be oneself as a full, living member in God’s church, to visualise oneself as safe in God’s hands? What does ‘do not be afraid’ mean for Ffion, Rebekah, Callum and Frank?
They need help and advice. In school, university, parish and diocese, they and others need networks who are willing to answer questions, to advise and inform. The networks need to have very strong values while at the same time giving people space and time to understand. If the four characters met later in life and discussed honestly what they needed from the church, what would they come up with?
- Good preaching, based on competent theology, not scriptural denunciation and rigid certainties?
- Good education in science, not internet myths?
- Good pastoral care, holding back from pushing any specific theory or course of action on people who might not be ready?
- Good love, not weak niceness or accusation or manipulation?
What would your list look like? Please tell us at [email protected] and share this article with others.