This blog is the second of three produced by Research Fellow Dr Matthew Barber-Rowell, as part of our Fellows Fund Programme. In this series, Dr Barber-Rowell sets out the potential role for intra-communities dialogue and local leadership for Curating Spaces of Hope in a post-pandemic society. This will be followed by blogs published on the 10th of May.
In my first blog, I set out the uncertain context we are living in, prompted by the pandemic, climate emergency, Brexit, the war in Ukraine and the cost of living crisis. I posed the question of how we might respond to this uncertainty. I introduced Curating Spaces of Hope and proposed that this is an overarching approach I believe offers potential for the development of intra-communities dialogue and local leadership, in a post-pandemic society.
Spaces of Hope Dialogues
In this blog, I turn to intra-communities dialogue (ICD) and its significance to this new proposed agenda. Dialogue has been formational for Spaces of Hope. In 2017 I was commissioned by a local authority in northwest England to develop networked gatherings across the borough. I used dialogue to support the faith, community and voluntary sector to respond to the impacts of austerity, divisions exposed by Brexit campaigning, unprecedented changes to public services and a growing epidemic in mental health largely caused by social isolation and loneliness. This commission followed on from Vanguard work exploring Health as a Social Movement, led by the Royal Society of Arts, of which Spaces of Hope played a small part. The issues faced struck right at the heart of civil society, impacting personal resilience and the community resources change to public services relied on.
The Spaces of Hope dialogues took place at different community hubs across the borough, engaging nearly 170 people across 9 gatherings from 70+ community organisations, who brought nearly 300 perspectives on what Spaces of Hope meant to them and their perceived barriers to realising those Spaces of Hope in their lives. A case study for the Inquiry into the Future of Civil Society in England summarised these dialogues as
“bringing together innovative mixes of civil society actors – from professional community practitioners through to individual community activists – to ‘meaning-make’ as a response to experiences of pointlessness and emptiness in personal, community and professional life.”
A Local Authority Officer said whilst reflecting on the dialogues
“In the past we have had a situation where the policy team has been the policy team … and [use] this kind of council speak … talking in the language of hope or hearts [feelings] over the last relatively short period of time [has exhibited] a shift.”
65% of respondents associated Spaces of Hope with personal vulnerability, personal freedom and social connection and 40% understood people’s suspicions and perceptions around different cultures and worldviews to be barriers to Spaces of Hope. This intervention opened up scope for values based dialogues within this locality. In terms of impact, a senior advisor within Public Health in Greater Manchester said
“[Spaces of Hope] delivers both added value in existing work and produces new projects and networks across neighbourhoods and localities.”
1/3 of respondents said that the Spaces of Hope dialogues had catalysed something new within their own work. Further, 90% of respondents said that they valued the Spaces of Hope dialogues and would participate in them in the future. Spaces of Hope gatherings continued. All told, 35 dialogues took place in 36 months from October 2016-2019.
The Spaces of Hope dialogues were not without interruptions. For example the Beast from the East cancelled one gathering at short notice. Inconvenient yes, but nothing compared to how we experience things now. The pandemic struck in March 2020 and lockdown ensued. UK wide research was conducted into the response, including the role of faith groups during the pandemic. This work found that whilst conditions of uncertainty have been accelerated, there was an affinity between local authorities and groups with different beliefs values and worldviews, who had stepped up during the pandemic. Local authorities wanted to capture and preserve this for the future. The report noted,
“Almost every local authority in the study endorses a commitment to build on this and to deepen relationships supporting long-term policy interventions and partnerships in ways that are different to the current practice and norms.”
This was followed up with parliamentary debate in Feb 2021, which suggests a need for networked and values based dialogues is only growing in response to the uncertainties we are facing.
Intra-communities Dialogue
The uncertainty of the last 2 years has forced us to reconsider where we find hope. Face masks have become a symbol of hope. Baking bread between Zoom calls brought hope to our work day, whilst we reconciled ourselves to the stress of the nowhere office. Our morning walk became both acts of obedience; adhering to laws prescribing one piece of exercise per day, and an act of defiance against the virus, glimpsing forgotten freedom, before returning to our COVID induced confines. New frontlines emerged through pop up hubs packing and delivering parcels of hope. Street level organising and WhatsApp groups nurtured new networked responses to the chaos of COVID and opened up spaces of connection within a changed and uncertain landscape, catalysing alliances and empowering local communities, making the case for a new modus operandi.
With this in mind, the question becomes, how are we going to do it? How do we hold together these diverse experiences and discern the leadership we need? Last year the Journal of Dialogue Studies published an article where I set out intra-communities dialogue as mapping and listening to shared matters of concern, of those with different beliefs values and worldviews, sharing and shaping public spaces together. I have given examples of how listening and mapping of this kind can take place. Intra-communities dialogues is a development and a deepening of the Spaces of Hope approach that succeeded pre-pandemic. I have shown how we might proceed, through networked gatherings and dialogues. With this in mind, I am proposing that we use intra-communities dialogues within new learning communities made up of those who responded to the pandemic in their local community, to reflect on and discern how we Curate Spaces of Hope within post-pandemic society.
In my final blog I will set out what I mean by ‘Curating’ and its implications for local leadership for post pandemic society.
Biography: Dr Matthew Barber-Rowell has been working in activism and academia in the north west of England for the past 10 years during which time he developed Spaces of Hope. Matthew is a Research Fellow with the William Temple Foundation and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts. During the pandemic Matthew supported local food provision; packing and delivering food parcels in his local community, acted as a trustee of his local church and was a team member delivering UK wide COVID research. Matthew has led work scoping responses to Net Zero in the north west, and is continuing this work through ecological change projects within churches in the north west. Matthew completed his PhD at Goldsmiths University of London, which discerned and defined Spaces of Hope, offering the basis for new work developing intra – communities dialogue and local leadership.
This blog is the first of three produced by Research Fellow Dr Matthew Barber-Rowell, as part of our Fellows Fund Programme. In this series, Dr Barber-Rowell sets out the potential role for intra-communities dialogue and local leadership for Curating Spaces of Hope in a post-pandemic society. This will be followed by blogs published on the 3rd and 10th May.
The COVID-19 Pandemic has impacted us in ways we could not have imagined two years ago. It is just one of an increasing number of global movements transforming our lives. We have experienced years of austerity following the global financial crash in 2008, we are facing the consequences of Brexit, a Climate Emergency, the COVID-19 Pandemic, the War in Ukraine, an energy crisis, and a new cost of living crisis in the UK. How might we live in these uncertain times?
In this series of blogs, I will set out a possible way for answering this question. The first blog will set out context for our experiences of uncertainty and an approach that has become known as ‘Curating Spaces of Hope’. I will set out what this is, how it emerged from contexts of uncertainty, and what it might offer us now. I will then introduce the tools that have been produced as part of Spaces of Hope, intra-communities dialogue, and an approach to local leadership, which I will discuss further in blogs two and three, exploring the possibilities they open up for post-pandemic society.
Living in uncertain times:
The pandemic precipitated paralysis in people’s lives. Social isolation was imposed upon us. Emergency legislation limited our ability to leave our homes, see our friends and family and go to work. If we were lucky that was as bad as it got. Financial and food poverty were exacerbated, and what had been described as a mental health crisis was accelerated. We faced a silent and pervasive foe to which we had no resistance and to which we are only now considering how to live with it. We lived hybrid lives.
Our digital lives offered both solace and a sad substitute for social connection. Loved ones died without anyone at their side. Weddings were cancelled. These experiences came hot on the heels of Brexit, which opened up and laid bare the divisions in the UK, across the nations in our union and locally where tribes of ‘brexiteers’ or a ‘remainers’ delineated differences about what and who we were for, and against.
Always on the horizon is the global Climate Emergency. The COP26 climate conference brought hope of a climate sea change amongst the pandemic storm. The target of Net Zero has sparked activism and galvanised individuals to hold industries and institutions to account. And now we see War in Europe. Whilst we do not have to face conflict directly ourselves, it is all too close. How we support those suffering is a live question. Ructions following sanctions on Russia, sets the stage for a cost of living crisis affecting our day to day lives.
As we emerge from lockdown, the ‘Living with COVID’ policy is hot off the press. Therein we are faced with three considerations. 1) life is uncertain and will not look like it did before. 2) legal limits are being lifted, but risks remain. 3) We are faced with adapting how we live in an uncertain world, becoming more resilient, beginning with taking personal responsibility. The time is now ripe to innovate and to determine for ourselves and collectively what life looks like in a post-pandemic society.
Curating Spaces of Hope
The response I am proposing is ‘Curating Spaces of Hope’. This has emerged from my own personal journey of suffering and sense making, catalysed by the 2008 global financial crash, austerity, unemployment, loneliness and isolation, abuse and discrimination. It was a journey traversing uncertain and complex issues, necessitating personal reflection and exploration of how the beliefs and values we hold relate to day to day life, work, social relationships, and our capacity to live and work in a healthy and hopeful way. From 2010-2020 this journey changed from a personal piece of reflection, to a social movement of over 900 people, all contributing, each from their own experiences, to the iterative development of a framework and way of working pertinent to producing fruit out of uncertain times.
Curating Spaces of Hope then is a response to the uncertain, uninvited and unexpected experiences that shape our lives. It is at once a personal response to the wide variety of difficulties that life presents us with and also a productive and pioneering paradigm that offers a means of mapping the content of our lives and coproducing nuanced and creative solutions to the shared problems we now face. What I am proposing, is to use Spaces of Hope to develop intra-communities dialogues, which will allow people to reflect on and map what has happened to them, and also to equip them to develop local leadership as a compass to guide us through the uncertainty in our lives. In the next blog I will set out what I mean by intra-communities dialogues and what it might mean for us in post-pandemic society.
Biography: Dr Matthew Barber-Rowell has been working in activism and academia in the north west of England for the past 10 years during which time he developed Spaces of Hope. Matthew is a Research Fellow with the William Temple Foundation and a Fellow of the Royal Society of Arts. During the pandemic Matthew supported local food provision; packing and delivering food parcels in his local community, acted as a trustee of his local church and was a team member delivering UK wide COVID research. Matthew has led work scoping responses to Net Zero in the north west, and is continuing this work through ecological change projects within churches in the north west. Matthew completed his PhD at Goldsmiths University of London, which discerned and defined Spaces of Hope, offering the basis for new work developing intra – communities dialogue and local leadership.
Matthew Barber-Rowell reflects on Hilary Cottam’s recent call for a revolution in social policy akin to the post-war welfare state, and proposes that faith-based organisations have an important role to play.
‘[A] fundamental rethink … a new Beveridge … [this is] a moment for revolution, not for patching and mending’.
These were the words of Hilary Cottam—social entrepreneur, author of Radical Help, and proponent of Welfare 5.0—on Newsnight on 5th March. When Cottam makes this kind of call, it is worth reflecting on.
I have followed Cottam’s work with interest in the last couple of years and I respect the revolutionary move that she is setting out in terms of how the state might relate to and support people and communities in the twenty-first century. Cottam’s approach is rooted in what matters to people. She focusses on the power of personal relationships and aims to ascertain how people in communities might live the good life. Cottam calls for a shift away from managerialism and ‘sticking people back together’, towards a mutual flourishing that is rooted in our own capabilities. Cottam’s revolution is seeking to overcome common critiques of what the welfare state has become, since its inception.
William Beveridge’s famous report in 1942 set out a plan for social policy in post-war Britain. The report set out a road to recovery that would continue on after the end of World War II and move away from Victorian era philanthropy. The revolutionary changes it offered addressed five giants of the time: want, ignorance, disease, squalor and idleness. The outcomes from the new welfare state were designed to change the way people live, for example, through wide ranging housing construction and development of more comprehensive programmes for health and education. The impact on quality of life for all, was substantial.
Beveridge was also heavily influenced by his longstanding friend and colleague William Temple. Temple is a revered figure, and his influence on twentieth century life has been heralded as akin to Winston Churchill and Bertrand Russell (Dictionary of National Biography, 1995, p. 68). Temple’s so-called ‘consultative methodology’, set out in Christianity and Social Order (Temple, 1942), was rooted in public theological engagement, laid out in a way that people ‘get’, and delivered via a prophetic vision which influenced what we know today as the ‘welfare state’ (a term Temple coined).
So, on hearing Cottam’s call for a new Beveridge, I wonder where the tools akin to Temple’s consultative methodology might come from? Whilst I do welcome the voices of learned and senior clergy in public debate, I do not think they are the whole story this time around. We need other sources to cut through in the way that Temple did. Leadership looks different today, and to honour that we need a paradigm shift rooted in stories of hope from people in our communities, who, for a long time, have been overlooked.
Temple’s enduring influence came from his reimagination of the role of faith in society. He looked outside the limits of the church to produce his consultative methodology. Yet one of the triumphs of the Beveridge Report, according to Temple, was that it was offered a ‘Christian Ethic in an Act of Parliament’. Today, this seems a bit far-fetched. But it meant that the faith that people lived by and shared together could be understood to contribute to policy and practice in ways that served everyone.
But the public sphere has changed beyond recognition since Temple and Beveridge’s day. We are in the midst of ‘the single biggest change in the [faith and belief] landscape of Britain for centuries, even millennia’, say Charles Clarke and Linda Woodhead. This is most clearly expressed by the ‘rise of the nones’ (people of no religious affiliation), who are now a statistical majority in the UK—52% of the population according to British Social Attitudes research.
However, this does not mean that understanding different faiths and beliefs is no longer important. Far from it. Rather, a far more complex picture of the role of faith and belief in policy and practice emerges. Any new welfare settlement must be aware of the diverse sources of motivation for different participants.
This point has become especially clear during recent parliamentary debate about the response of faith-based organisations during the pandemic. As Eddie Hughes, Conservative MP for Walsall North, stated:
‘During the pandemic, churches, mosques, gurdwaras and temples have opened their doors wide to provide essential support for the most vulnerable people in their communities, and not just those of faith. This year we have seen with our own eyes how faith groups have an ability to mobilise resources that some other civil society actors simply do not. The APPG’s report “Keeping the Faith” rightly picked that up. It is fair to say that that has surprised some people.’
Whilst the Keeping the Faith data is only a snapshot, it highlights the unique contribution that faith-based organisations can make. A new ‘consultative methodology’ fit for the twenty-first century could mobilise these resources in a way that incorporates different faiths and none, such that policies and practices open up the potential offered by faith-based organisations for the good of all in society.
To include this would be to honour the roots of the original Beveridge Report and add strength to the arm of Cottam’s revolution today.
Matthew Barber-Rowell examines how the practice of mask-wearing might reveal precisely the sort of attitudes we need to shape society for the better over the coming years.
Last week, Boris Johnson used his conservative party conference speech to set out his ten year vision for the country saying, ‘after all we have been through, it isn’t enough to go back to normal… we have been through too much frustration and hardship just to settle for the status quo ante, to think that life can go on as before the plague’. Johnson said that events of this magnitude—war, famine, pandemics of the past—are triggers for much wider social and economic change. The kind of change that we need will respond, not only to the ruptures created by COVID-19, but also to the 2008 recession, Brexit, and the environmental crisis.
In my forthcoming Temple Tract, I argue that the building blocks for the change we need can be found in our day to day lives. Unearthing differing and creative potential informs both local leadership and emergent shared values that shape communities, social policy and economic growth. Rishi Sunak paints a bleak picture for our creative economy, but this is not to say that we cannot or should not rely on our gifts and creativity to shape our environments. Far from it. The recent report by Conservative MP Danny Kruger, looking at levelling up communities, has highlighted the need for greater engagement at a local level, greater power-sharing, and greater emphasis on people and organisations that are embedded in their communities and the networks and institutions that support them.
In this blog, though, I want to hone in on one of the symbols of our times—the face mask—and the way that it exemplifies the kind of personal responses and shared resources that we will need to manage social and economic change over the next ten years.
Wearing a face mask symbolises our response to the uncertain times we are living in. For some it is a symbol of the extent to which we care about others. Yet, whilst stepping out of hospital and into the White House, Donald Trump removed his mask as an act of defiance, seemingly ignoring the deaths of more than 200,000 US citizens. Face masks are not there to protect the wearer; they are there to protect the other. As part of his Late Late Show monologue last week, James Cordon criticised Trump’s act of defiance, singing ‘maybe I don’t wear a mask because I don’t care about others?’.
An emerging theory even suggests that face masks can reduce the severity of the virus and increase immunity. ‘Variolation’, as this effect is known, sets the foundations for hope in the period before answers are clear, opening up spaces from which responses to the ills of an uncertain world might be emerge. In this sense face masks can be symbols of hope.
So, to wear a mask is to consider others, to express values which are rooted in relationship, and to recognise that we have a shared existence and responsibility for the common good. The mask economy is also thriving. I recently bought masks from a charity that supports a children’s home in the Congo. Our purchasing power can make a huge difference as we seek a ‘new normal’ post-COVID-19.
The face mask provides us with a means of reducing the spread of the virus as part of a mixture of measures including social distancing and hand hygiene. But mask wearing can also express something deeper about our creativity, our values and our resourcefulness. Mask wearing creates spaces of health and connection with others in vulnerability and recognition that we cannot overcome the virus on our own. In which case, how else can our lives open up public expressions of service to the other? It might be that we simply wear a mask. But it might also be that there are other significant things we can do too.
In my forthcoming Temple Tract, I will be picking up this conversation about how our different and creative potential can shape local leadership and emergent shared values as part of a post-COVID-19 ‘new normal’. I draw on the inspiration of William Temple’s social principles of freedom, fellowship and service to encourage these spaces of hope in uncertain times. The Tract will set out how simple acts such as mask wearing, and other elements of our personality within the context of a mixed local economy can be expressed through local leadership and can help us to discern emergent shared values that shape the social and economic change we need in the future.
In this week’s blog, William Temple Scholar Matthew Barber reflects on both the disorientation and the opportunities presented by life in lockdown and urges us to see local leadership as a vital resource moving forward.
Lockdown has changed the way we live. I have moved in with my fiancée in Liverpool (a new city for me). We have begun to come to terms with the cancellation of our wedding and the reality of married life in all but name, without the chance to commit to it before our friends, family and God. I have celebrated my birthday over Zoom. As a freelancer I have had multiple pieces of paid work cancelled in recent months, leading to tough personal circumstances. And last week, I submitted my PhD.
I have been hit by conflicting emotions of fortune—I have sufficient space and support to live safely and securely for now—and frustration—I want to do more to support people and communities around me. It has been a difficult and disorientating time. However, in coming to terms with new circumstances, we can also open ourselves up to new possibilities produced by the passage through liminal spaces of hope.
Last year on the Foundation blog, I discussed liminality as the new normal. I considered conflicting questions arising from living in uncertain times, empowering people and communities and doing so through embracing our differences such that we could build bridges and relationships, and renew a sense of shared values. I borrowed from Archbishop William Temple and his inspiration for the welfare state in post-war Britain:
“[O]ut of one of the darkest periods of our history also emerged health, hope and connection across our communities, inspired by Temple and his contemporaries. There are ideas and movements emerging [now], but the challenge is to connect them.”
How much more is this the case now compared to nine months ago.
In moving to Liverpool, I have been both humbled by the personal welcome and encouraged by the networks of care and collaboration that are flowing through communities. St Andrew’s Parish Church, in the community where I now live, is influencing faith-based expressions of welcome and care locally through St Andrew’s Community Network, an initiative that has grown out of the church and serves the north of the city through alliances with faith-based and secular partners alike. Their leadership has been exemplified through, in light of lockdown, receipt of crowd-funded donations of over £100,000 through their partnership with Fans Supporting Foodbanks to continue to ensure emergency food supply gets to the most vulnerable. After lockdown began the City Council put out a call for support for food security. The network picked this up along with multiple other local partners. As of 21st May, hundreds of people (152 new volunteers) had picked, packed and provided over 25 tonnes of food to 2000 people. And the support carries on.
There is authentic and relational work already being done, but in speaking to Reverend James Green, the vicar of St Andrew’s, the emergence of underlying stories of change become more apparent. Lockdown life has unearthed a ‘rebirth of local community’ characterised by multiple expressions of care and solidarity. ‘Clap for carers’ and WhatsApp groups, as well as church online are obvious examples, but James describes an emerging ‘trellis and framework’ that suggests a deeper connection. People are talking to their neighbours again and church members are responding in ways that were, frankly, unexpected. Whilst, food insecurity is going to be a big problem to come, it is being ‘hotwired’ now, through the launch of a Food Pantry and integration with ‘The Network’. Lockdown has revealed disorienting and liminal conditions that need a response. St Andrew’s and ‘The Network’, amongst many others, exemplify this.
As Temple before us, we are seeking local leadership for a liminal age that connects locally, regionally and nationally. In October 2019 a Spaces of Hope gathering in Stockport in south Manchester discussed the challenges for leadership in a liminal age. Building on data from the 2018 Hubs Network, community fieldwork with Winning Hearts and Minds in North Manchester and the 2019 Inquiry into the Future of Civil Society in England, practitioners and activists highlighted different characteristics for leadership in a liminal age. These included listening to local contexts, being values-led, acting with integrity and empowering others. In Stockport, as in Liverpool, there was an appetite to go beyond crisis support and open up new spaces of hopeful possibilities between people in communities.
A challenge raised by lockdown is whether local leadership will be acknowledged by new policy and practice developing at regional and national level. There is advocacy from policy leaders such as Professor Donna Hall from New Local Government Network who last week used Twitter to promote local shared values within local governance systems. An article in The Lancet highlighted the strengths of this approach too. Additionally, in last week’s House of Lords debate, the new Bishop of Derby (former Bishop of Stockport) Libby Lane used her maiden speech to highlight that it is the most vulnerable—children in poverty—who are facing increased insecurity as a result of this crisis. The Bishop noted that the next generation are picking up the legacy of how we respond to the issues of today, saying that ‘solutions need to be long-term and sustainable’.
Lockdown has been disorienting. But there are lessons to be learned. For the sake of each of us, we must develop leadership for the new liminal age to come, that listens, starts at a local level, and looks long term, unearthing shared values that shape new spaces of hopeful possibilities.
Prorogation of Parliament and the ensuing High Court challenges are the latest act in a Brexit farce that has been running for over three years. The government drive to ‘deliver the will of the people’ clashes with cries of #StoptheCoup, as thousands march, seeking action that curtails the undemocratic heist across, what is for now at least, our United Kingdom.
Our national identity crisis, brought into sharp focus by Brexit, is unprecedented since World War Two. Archbishop Justin Welby reminded us of this in his 2019 William Temple Foundation Annual Lecture, when he compared our present uncertainty to that faced by Temple, Tawney, Beveridge and others as they sought a new political settlement in the 1940s. Building on the legacy of his predecessor, Archbishop Temple, Welby proposed that a similar sense of imagination and holistic commitment could guide us now and galvanise us against the uncertainty we face. Temple was peerless in his combination of social, political and theological disciplines, typified by Christianity and Social Order (1941), offering principles of freedom, fellowship and service to one another, to guide deployment of our different gifts and competencies as a means of mobilising the welfare state. It goes without saying that our world looks very different nearly 80 years on, but synergies abound as we are challenged once again to work for the future of our nation.
But how do we occupy uncertain spaces whilst staying within the law? How do we equitably broker power rather than mirroring the behaviour of our oppressor? How do we embrace the differences that exist at the heart of each of our lives? How can we build bridges and broker peace, to renew the relationships at the heart of civil society, and our nation?
Baker’s, Crisp’s and Dinham’s 2018 work offers a place to begin with these questions, presenting landmark interdisciplinary perspectives on how holistic commitments can shape the public space through policy and practice. A key finding is that ‘liminality’—a term developed by Arnold van Gennep and later by Victor Turner—is emerging as the new norm. Liminality means ‘disorienting and non-binary conditions, where old certainties and hierarchies are suspended until such a time as new resolution and clarity of identity is reached’ (p.30). In the context of Parliament being prorogued and comparisons with World War Two, language of liminality as the new norm conjures a spectre of fear, as darker periods of our history are foregrounded once again. However, out of one of the darkest periods of our history also emerged health, hope and connection across our communities, inspired by Temple and his contemporaries. There are ideas and movements emerging, but the challenge is to connect them.
My own work, Spaces of Hope, combines the personal struggle of growing into our world, with the work of Temple, Baker, Dinham and others, within a new organisational paradigm framed by liminality, curating differences at the heart of shared spaces. By reflecting on the laws that govern spaces, power dynamics and social relations Spaces of Hope understands how different beliefs and values, at different scales, expressed through different practices, into different spheres of society, shape spaces, places, people, policy and practice. In the last three years, a quiet revolution has been building in the northwest of England, sharing stories, weaving networks, and curating over 30 gatherings. According to the Inquiry into the Future of Civil Society in England, Spaces of Hope has enabled and emboldened the development of deeply authentic networks and relationships, the drawing out of meaning and values shaping the spaces people are engaged with, before identifying and acting on what this means for community practice.
The Spaces of Hope Hubs Network in the Borough of Stockport in Greater Manchester might be our most significant contribution. The network curated liminal spaces, using dialogue tools to address questions in local communities. Afterwards, we found that 73% thought differently about their own work, with 67% saying that they shared their differences in an open and productive way. 33% said Spaces of Hope had either directly or indirectly enabled them to establish new work. We shared stories about wellbeing and hospitality; weekly intergenerational drop-ins; connection through the pioneering Alvanley Social Prescription programme; and humble refuge, with reciprocal support offered between the homeless, asylum seekers and refugees at a local church. We also asked, what does Spaces of Hope mean to you?—contrasting answers with perceived barriers. Nearly 300 responses revealed that 65% think it is about personal vulnerability, connection and freedom. Conversely, 39.6% saw perceptions of or scepticism towards different cultures, beliefs, values and worldviews as the biggest barrier. 24.8% said they lacked confidence that anything would change. These insights resonate with the divides we are seeing nationally, whilst also revealing the contradictions at the heart of our communities. 90% of attendees found the gatherings helpful and were confident that the Spaces of Hope approach would make a difference over time.
These are just seeds, but they will need a generation of nurture if they are to fully inform a hopeful future for our nation. These seeds include contributions from public institutions, such as the Diocese of Chester, the William Temple Foundation, the Royal Society of Arts, and Stockport Council, alongside people from communities across Cheshire and South Manchester now numbering over 500. What we have found is that Spaces of Hope means different things to different people, but by harnessing differences in liminal spaces we are hearing voices unite and guiding practices that are seeking hope for the future of our communities.
Spaces of Hope dialogues continue during October 2019. Key events coming up include:
A research colloquium called Grassroots Movements and Partnerships of Hope at Goldsmiths College, where Spaces of Hope will inform dialogue with other emerging movements – 16th October – Free
Guest blogger Matthew Barber is a PhD student, Researcher for the Centre for Faith and Public Policy at Chester University and Director of Faith Sector. His interests include faith in the post-secular public sphere, the evolution of faith based organisations, and spiritual capital.
Reimagining Religion & Belief for Public Policy & Practice is an AHRC funded initiative that is seeking to understand more about religion in the public sphere. Prof Luke Bretherton is one of the global thought leaders in this and related areas of enquiry and was asked how he would characterise the current debate? Prof Bretherton said,
“The metaphor I use is the shift from being in a shower to being in a jacuzzi … everything was moving in the same direction and the bath would gradually fill up with secularity and thereby become a less religious space … I think in reality the context is more like a jacuzzi in that everything is bubbling up from everywhere.”
Bretherton’s metaphor is nuanced yet accessible. It conjures ideas of being washed clean and locating a sense of wellbeing and relaxation, as well as turbulence and contestation. There are myriad contested issues and spaces that define our public engagement and in turn there are differing views on how and where to engage. These contributions are the jacuzzi jets, the spectrum of which I will try to outline.
The political zeitgeist has generated debate around centrist, One Nation ideology. During party conference season, George Osborne articulated the need for us to live within our means. A message that dovetailed with Jeremy Hunt’s call for the removal of tax credits as an incentive for a new culture of hard work. David Cameron captured the Conservatives’ agenda to address poverty that builds upon the cuts, reforms and culture change saying, “if you want a lecture about poverty, ask Labour, if you want something done about it, come to us, the Conservative party”. Labour wants to install “a kinder politics, a more caring society”. Jeremy Corbyn argued that we should not be “[reduced] to believing in anything less … [he said] don’t accept injustice and stand up against prejudice … let us put our values, the people’s values, back into politics”. This rhetoric captures the difference between austerity and progressive politics, but between these poles, people are searching for something that they can believe in. The election of Jeremy Corbyn is a recent example of this in the political sphere, not because people knew Corbyn, because they didn’t, but because what he represents resonates with a movement for change.
People are looking beyond, the established framing and are locating a sense of what is missing. Last week Justin Welby spoke at St Aldates Church in Oxford and located Jesus in the margins, with the lost, with those in need. He said “Jesus Christ was not one who got on well with the people of power. He was not an easy person to have to supper if you were in a position of influence.” The Archbishop was saying that Christ shared truth and loved his neighbour even when institutionally speaking, it was uncomfortable. Christ called people in faith to mirror this in the world. In a context of institutional reform and austerity, faith should be seen in the margins and exhibited through intentional acts of care and love wherever there is need. Christ’s call spoke into, but exists independently from the constructions that make up the world in which we live today. This engagement dovetails with the centrist ideology of our political parties and introduces an organic aspect that requires a suitable metaphor to help locate it, along with 3 short case studies I will offer to finish.
Instead of a shower, we have a meandering river, slowly shaping the topography, flowing in a clearly defined channel. Rather than a jacuzzi, we have springs welling up into cracks and gaps formed as the ground shifts. Religious groups represent abundant aquifers, full of physical, social and spiritual resources that can lie latent for prolonged periods, but when the terrain shifts, are open and accessible and flowing. Religious groups are embedded in our communities and their networks permeate below and between the political structures that we are having to revise.
Geological mapping has helped us understand the terrain and the role of religious groups in Local Authority areas. Link Up operates alongside Cheshire West and Chester Local Authority, auditing and sharing best practice and facilitating forums for local leaders. I want to share two examples of work Link Up has supported, which illustrates how religious groups are working at the margins and within the gaps that have been created by public service reform.
Elsie Ever After is a bereavement support group that has been set up in memory of Elspeth Georgie Lyons, who passed away at a very young age. Elspeth’s parents found themselves in need of support, but due to geography and the cause of Elspeth’s death, found that there was no bereavement provision available to them. With the help of their local church, Elsie Ever After was born and EEA is now on a mission to ‘link all existing services and plug the gap where services are lacking’.
Project Andrew is facilitated by The Church Army and based at Ellesmere Port boat museum. They are working with young men and Youth Offender Teams, to help restore a narrow boat. The projects aims are to engage with young people as they restore the narrow boat to help them restore a sense of purpose in their lives and to give them self-worth.
Religious groups are uniquely located to support and feed those who have suffered loss, are seeking self-worth, and those who are in need of hospitality and a safe space, as per the case studies I have shared. The springs that produce and nourish in the cracks and gaps are flowing with potential and are able to facilitate flourishing through organic and sustained growth. Geological exploration and mapping is unearthing rich resources all the time and through partnership and coproduction, Religious groups such as Link Up are able to enrich and facilitate vast and varied groundswells of growth in our society and are an asset as we engage with the current reform agenda.
In November, Chester University, Link Up Faith Forum and Cheshire West and Chester are hosting a strategic summit with public and faith sector professionals from across the north of England to broker understanding of the possibilities for religion in the public sphere and specifically Local Authorities and faith based organisations in the context of public service reform. Follow the hashtag #ProgressiveLocalism for more.
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