There has been an article doing the rounds on the internet
recently. An article written by a guy who spends a lot of time looking at
medieval churches. A guy who is a bit of a bright spark;
a leading light as it were. The article, set out in the usual 'top 10' style,
lists the things that he has problems with when studying a medieval church. His
'top 10 wrongs' about the parish church. A 'top 10' that has, to be blunt,
annoyed the hell out of me.
There is no denying that his article is amusing in places,
and that he undoubtedly never expected the blog piece to be circulated quite so
widely. However, I'm still not sure that even that can excuse his public
attitude. He does use the blog to put across a couple of interesting points about
his own research, which I suspect was the whole point of the blog in the first
place. However, what he then goes on to do is, at best, ungracious - at worst
it is simply bloody rude.
Now the author really isn't talking about anything that any
of us who spend a good deal of time visiting churches hasn't come across
before. He's simply come across the odd enthusiastic church guide or
church-warden. Sometimes the stories they tell, repeated down the generations,
aren't always entirely, 100%, historically accurate. Sometimes they are simply
repeating what is in the church guide. We've all heard them. The stories of
tunnels leading to the manor house, the 'weeping' chancels, and the leper
squints. However, no matter how wrong you may consider them to be,
they are sharing with you their love, passion and interest in the building. It
may not come up to your own high standards in terms of referencing and accuracy
but, here's the thing - it doesn't have to. They are there as volunteers,
keeping the church open, and trying to ensure that the visitors who do venture
through their doors get the most out of their visit. The author also apparently
has a bit of a problem with modern items cluttering up the church, or to put it
in his own words...
"The Church
(big C) is the people, and the church (little c) is the building, I’m
interested in both; but please don’t demean the latter as an object of
aesthetic and historic interest by sticking this needlessly iconoclastic
statement in Comic Sans MS font on a big ugly noticeboard right in front
of some fascinating dado arcading."
The blog post goes on, and the author manages to make a
few snide remarks aimed at church guides, local volunteers and the modern
church. There is undoubtedly a lot of
reality in his comments. We've all seen it. However, it doesn't mean we all
have voice our opinions to the Church and the people who look after the
buildings which he studies - essentially making it possible for him to wander
in to a church at will, take a few pics, and then post a selfie to
his instragram account.
Now there are those who will say that by publicly attacking
his blogpost that I am just as bad as he is. I agree in some respects. However,
the fact that his post has been shared so widely means, quite simply, that it
is now being read by the self same people that it has a public dig at. A
victim, as it were, of its own success. The amusing post, no doubt meant to
slyly and snidely titillate the jaded senses of humour of his friends, is now being read by the churchwardens, the sides-men, the vicars, the
volunteer church guides, and the key-holders. It is being read by members of
the mothers union, the flower arrangers, and by those who worked tirelessly on
the raising of funds to keep the building open and in repair. And it is hurting
them. It is demeaning them. It is insulting them. It's 'holier than thou'
attitude, which condescends and demeans, comes across as the arrogant sniping
of someone who, whilst claiming they themselves are a Christian (not something
you will ever hear me claim), has rather missed the point about Christian
values. Mostly the author missed the point about respect...
He also rather misses the point about the medieval church. The one thing that studying medieval graffiti has taught me over the last few years is the level of interaction, both physical and spiritual, that took place in these buildings. They were not simply places to be wandered into and prayed in. They weren't simply home to static images of the saints. They were dynamic and busy places, places full of people and things. They served as the parish armoury, as at Mendlesham in Suffolk, as the parish office, and as the parish meeting place. They were alive with activities - and groups like the mother's union and toddler's playgroups are simply continuing a long tradition. Their stories were static, but ever evolving.
And so the next time you wander in to one of
our amazing medieval churches, and get slightly annoyed because the children's
play area, or the prayer tree, are making it slightly inconvenient for you to
see exactly what you want to see - just bear in mind that it is the playgroup,
the young mums, the flower arrangers, church guides, worshippers and rectors
who have made it possible for you to visit that building in the first place. It
may be a medieval work of art, but it is also a structure built by the labour
of man - and one that only remains whole and welcoming by the continued labour
and devotion of many. In short - learn some manners...
I couldn't agree more. The churches I love visiting the most are the ones that still show signs of a community that continues to come together, whether in prayer or simply as a a way of allowing local people to socialise. Churches have always adapted to the needs of those who actually use them - the people they were built to serve. They may have meaning to many who visit for historical/academic/photographic reasons, but they have a function too. Far better that they continue to do so than become redundant, unloved, unused, and ultimately closed.
ReplyDelete