
Here is my latest article for those who do not subscribe to ‘New Directions’. If you would like to subscribe then simply contact me!
There can be no denying the Church owes a debt of gratitude to Nicky Gumble, priest associate of Holy Trinity, Brompton, who launched the ‘Alpha’ campaign, proving that evangelism can work in the spiritual wilderness of 21st Century Britain. With a welcome passion and joy, this ever beaming cleric broke through the despondency and despair of modern-day Anglicanism, ensuring souls encountered Christ and conversion followed. At last local clergy felt re-energised and able to reach out to others. Wonderful stuff, promote him to the office of ‘mission priest of all England’ and yet, whilst truly rejoicing in the unparalleled success of Alpha, I do have one major gripe!
I am seriously concerned that ‘Alpha’ gives a false impression of Christian life. View the accompanying videos, mainly depicting middle classed ‘hotties’ experiencing ecstasy in the name of Jesus, and you easily assume that conversion leads to everlasting happiness. As if meeting Jesus helps you walk into a never-ending set of ‘The Sound of Music’, just as Julie Andrews swings her arms inanely whilst professing that the hills are alive with the sound of music!

Now there is a joy in knowing Christ, one which surpasses all this world has to offer, but Christian living is far from rosy. Indeed it is the hardest task imaginable, for you must not only battle the world and the devil- you must also conquer your ‘self’. And who would wage such an all consuming war without first considering whether he is able, with ten thousand men, to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand? Unless the convert considers the cost of following Christ, they will certainly fall at the first hurdle or else become a hopeless church-goer, that surface Christian- the empty vessel.
In order to exorcise those ‘Sound of Music’ expectations, which accompany the worst type of Evangelical conversion, we should perhaps offer every Alpha member a copy of a different film, J.R.R. Tolkien’s ‘The Lord of the Rings’. For here we unearth a more accurate depiction of Christian living. An allegory that Tolkien, a devout Catholic and personal friend of C. S. Lewis, admits is present in the text.
In the film (or book which is better) Frodo, a hobbit, is asked by Gandalf to set out on an incredible journey. This is the moment of conversion, the start of the lifelong pilgrimage, which began for us real believers at baptism. The task he is given is not easy, it will demand all he has to give, but it is nevertheless the only path to salvation. This epic journey will require him to be wrenched from a cosy life in the Hollow, where the sinister threat hanging over the world can be ignored with blissful ignorance. He must step out in faith and confront all that is evil. He will be pushed to the limits of endurance, suffer in body and soul and much that he holds dear will be lost to him. What lies ahead is a life of struggle for the sake of all that is noble.
And yet Frodo will never be alone. Outnumbered? Yes. Threatened? Undeniably? In danger at all times? You’d better believe it. But never alone. For around Frodo gathers a band of faithful friends. A meagre cohort of believers, who not only understand his trials but help him overcome them. What a rabble they are, we find simple folk like Merryweather and Sam, the complicated souls like Borromir and Gollum and that great spiritual leader, Gandalf the wizard. Without them Frodo could never succeed.
And so the authentic Christian will also find themselves outnumbered, misunderstood, misrepresented, and threatened within the church and without. And, in order to survive the pilgrimage of faith, they will need true and loyal friends. Those who share their faith and understand the call of Christ. This point was aptly made by Digby Anderson in last month’s New Directions: ‘We need to recover the ideal of Christian friendship and have public acknowledgment of its importance in the Church…it is an essential building block of any Christian community and the chief safeguard against apostasy, fanaticism, and madness in this otherwise lonely Catholic life.’
Now let me make this month’s link with the worldwide web, tipping my biretta to Fr. Hunwicke. For he too picks up this theme in a recent blog entry: ‘Could it be that at long last we Anglican Catholics have a friend? The old Bavarian gentleman? Let’s try to treat him well. We are so unused to having friends that there is the risk of our being somewhat unpractised in our handling of them.’

‘The old Bavarian gentleman’- I love it- as I love Pope Benedict! For he is surely the most inspiring of friends- the Gandalf of our day! One who speaks clearly of Christ, offering faith, hope and love in our day. Who else champions orthodoxy as he does and confronts the evils of our day? And so, returning to the ‘Lord of the Rings’, let us consider a final lesson from the Gospel according to Tolkien!
Sauron was a terrifying and hideous foe, Saruman a dread enemy. The darkness descending on Middle-Earth was every bit as dangerous as the forces of secularism, atheism and false ideologies that descend on us today. To defy the evil threat in Middle-Earth, reconciliation and unity were key to Frodo’s survival. However impressive Gandalf might be, he could only overcome the darkness if the elves, men, dwarves and trees forgot past grievances, forgave ancient sins and worked together for the common good.
If rumours from the Vatican are true, this is what Pope Benedict is doing. Not with elves, dwarves and trees but Eastern Orthodox, Catholic Anglican and all who stand for the faith of the ages. The Ordinariate is no attempt to ‘poach clergy’, as some ridiculously claim! The Holy Father is drawing all ‘true Christians together under the banner of Christ. Oh that he could have included all Anglicans in this number! But alas, the desertion of Christ by many has rendered this impossible.

This call for unity comes because the faith is under threat in our day. The battle with darkness is upon us! So with whom shall we stand? With the ‘old man of Bavaria’, who proclaims the Gospel of Christ so boldly? Or with the bushy academic, whose church now crumbles at his feet? Who is he but the glassy eyed Theodin, held under a spell by nefarious beings who whisper poison in his ear whilst bringing down his house from within.