Our human differences

Yesterday and today I celebrated Mass for the faithful weekday worshippers at St German's again. I'm starting to get used to doing such a familiar ritual again now, albeit from a different perspective - that of an invited guest. This puts you on best behaviour, makes you perhaps a little more conscious of what it means, than when you are secure in your role and automatically doing what you always do. It's so possible to hide behind routine, and not notice the illusory vanities of the ego creeping in when you occupy a role that places you at the centre of attention for others when you lead them in prayer.

The challenge is always one of making it possible for others to go out of themselves god-wards, not through you or because of you, but because they feel safe to be in a place and in the kind of company where they can. From my perspective, there's no room for egotism there, only for self-effacing service. But my goodness, it's hard to sustain, as the lust to be noticed and appreciated is such a powerful persistent force that it makes sexual desire seem like a flash in the pan.

Since I met with Paul Keeping nine days ago, I've been mulling over the discussion we had, and drafting a paper that may help to put some life into a dialogue between the City Council and its communities of faith, designed to encourage social inclusion and participation in agreeing the values and policies that shape our life as a city. It's an idea proposed in the face of reluctance on the part of many local authority officers, that dealing across the board with faith communities is 'too difficult' to yield any practicable conclusions, because there are simply too many differences to reconcile between faith groups. 

I argue this is bound to be the case unless you develop a way of working that starts by inviting faith groups to recognise their common ground in terms of values and practice in their relationship with civil society, also the grounds on which they agree to differ with each other and maybe with local authorities, without disengaging from the dialogue. On their part local authorities must disengage from the dialogue when, after scrutiny, the differences expressed transgress established state law. This is a difficult, sensitive issue as there's always a small measure in which law is still elastic, in the process of formation or consolidation. 

At the heart of the difficulties I've been mulling over is a social history which accorded status and privilege to one faith group in the eyes of the state, and not another - namely Christianity as the established or formerly established religion of state, (depending on where you live). In a muddling way, Britain extends religious privileges and status to other faith groups, though not to all equally. It might be better if 'established' religion were to renounce all privileges, and accept equal recognition on the basis of agreed criteria. Abolishing religious privilege is not, however, without problems. 

There are circumstances, for instance, in which religious privilege can be used to counter excessive state reactions in addressing the needs of vulnerable people (e.g. churches marrying asylum seekers when the state refuses). Abolition of religious privilege, if desirable, must first secure those who might otherwise be left vulnerable. That's just a taster of what must be settled first. The more I get into this, the more a of challenge it is to think straight, keep an eye on the horizon, and not ignore the complexities of dealing with our human differences. How good it is to have the opportunity to think about these things in depth, rather than just gloss over them, because there are too many other things to get sorted first.

Owain rang me this evening and at 20 minutes notice invited me to join him at Dempsey's bar to listen to a visiting contemporary jazz trio, playing a late evening gig. I arrived during the first number and as treated to a couple of hours of brilliant improvisation from three young musicians - a tenor sax player from Slovenia, a drummer from Vienna, and a virtuoso American double bass player. It was hugely refreshing, and I was lucky enough to wait only three minutes for a bus home at 23h30. I must do this again.