So suddenly here I was, adrift from any kind of church for the first time in a long while. And initially I didn’t have any problem with that at all. A few months later another (admittedly maybe over-hasty) e-mail from myself to my ex-vicar resulted in the rest of the family leaving the church as well. No need to go into the detail, but suffice to say that the experience left a nasty taste with us that has taken a long time to heal.
That summer we went off to Greenbelt as a family, something that we had been doing for a few years (Greenbelt has remained a constant throughout these years). On our return we felt that, after six months or so without church, we really wanted to be part of a worshipping community again. So we started looking around. Friends that we had made at our previous church (he was a Chaplin at the local higher education establishment) had recently moved themselves, for similar reasons to us (they had been part of our homegroup), to another Anglican church a little further from us. So it made sense that we go and try them out. This church was a much more traditional, almost Anglo-Catholic style of Anglican church, what with it’s robed choir, sung psalms and strong use of liturgy. And yet, having now become used to the Anglican experience, this didn’t seem alien, and in many senses was very attractive. And so, principally because of the presence of this other family (who had children similar ages to our own) we decided to make this place our new spiritual home.
Again, we threw ourselves into Church life, although a little less so than before (a definite trend emerging here!). To my later regret, I let myself get flattered into being part of the PCC, and almost instantly regretted that. This was dryer than dry, and whilst I appreciate that the kind of stuff that happens at PCCs has to happen at some level in all churches (I’d had similar roles in both previous churches), this was something that seemed just so divorced from what I thought a life of faith should be about that it became more than just an irrelevance – it was actually a distraction from faith. However, the vicar at our new church was one that really had time for me, and I for him. He was open, willing to listen to my occasional ramblings, and most importantly seemed to appreciate some of the questions, doubts and uncertainties that were still haunting me. Through him, I got to lead a semi-regular reflective service that gave me a real sense of purpose and belonging that much else in that church did not. That seemed to find a niche for a few people, but it never seemed to get any real traction within the church, and once again I felt that what I was wanting from a faith community (although I don’t know I’m too sure what that is) was not what the vast majority there wanted. Once again I was out on the edge, sometimes struggling to hold on.
During this time a couple of things sustained me. The first was a group set up by a friend of mine, Bob, that was an attempt at a kind of church-in-a-pub. Dubbed Edge of Belief, it brought together on a occasional basis a bunch of people who were similarly struggling to find their way through a life of faith, just to chew the cud and listen to each others stories. That tailed off after a few years, and a little while later a much smaller group of friends (primarily instigated by Larry) came together on a similarly ad-hoc basis to do a similar thing. Both of these shared some similar characteristics (which were also something that the earlier homegroup experience also shared); they were free and open opportunities for people to tell their stories and listen to others; they were intrinsically relational, deriving their strength from the human relationships that flowed from that sharing of stories; and they served a particular need at a particular time, their existence never outlasting their usefulness.
Back at Church, I was still trying to make things work out. I’d applied to be a Reader (a lay role, who can preach and lead services), and had got accepted to do that. This was a continuation of previous dalliances with more formal roles in the church – I’d even contemplated a full-time Minister / Vicar role in the past, but never really progressed it. Having been accepted, however, I realised the nature of the role would have left me firmly committed to this parish, to this church. Given that I wasn’t really feeling too at home here, and also given that the nature of may faith really didn’t seem up to the kind of rigorous investigation that such training would inevitably require, I chickened out. I think I used some kind of excuse about work and family commitments, but I think that was probably just that – an excuse. I was really getting to a point where I realised I needed to back right off from any kind of formal church role, because I was really acting out something that wasn’t true to who I was or where I was coming from.
Looking back, I think that this event was maybe the realisation that has brought me to where I am now. But more of that later.
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