Life on the Breadline: Theology, Poverty and Politics in an Age of Austerity
Chris Shannahan
SCM Press, 2025, 226 pp., pbk, £26.00.
Review by Dr Joseph Forde, Honorary Research Fellow in Historical Theology, Urban Theology Union, Sheffield.
Drawing on detailed in-depth empirical fieldwork across the UK, ‘Life on the Breadline’ was as a three year (2018-2021) research project that analysed the nature, scope and impact of Christian engagement with urban poverty in the UK, set in the context of the austerity drives stemming from the 2008 financial crash. It was also the first academic, theological analysis of Christian responses to UK poverty during that period. [1] Chris Shannahan was a core project team member and the project’s lead researcher. In this book, he provides an authoritative, accessible and illuminating exposition of the theological influences that shaped the project, and that he argues have sown the seeds of an austerity-age theology of liberation. He also provides a summary of the project’s core findings.
In chapter 1, he analyses the, ‘nature, causes and impact of contemporary poverty’ (p. 4). Chapter 2 focuses on the project’s methodology; what Shannahan describes as, ‘the ‘nitty-gritty’ grounded approach to hermeneutics’ (p. 5). In chapters 3 to 6 he analyses four approaches to Christian engagement with austerity age poverty. The first, is what he calls the ‘Caring’ approach, which emphasises the Church as being a servant community, motivated by a theological vision of the common good and human flourishing as central to meeting the needs of those experiencing poverty. The second, is what he calls the more politicized ‘Campaigning and Advocacy’ approach, which he connects with God’s ‘preferential option for the poor’ and, ‘the framing of the Church as a liberative movement called to speak truth to power’ (p. 6). The third, is what he calls ‘The Self-help and Enterprise’ approach, which emphasises self-reliance and aspiration as being key motivators necessary for transcending poverty. The fourth, is what he calls the ‘Community Building’ approach, that sees the Church as ‘a companion community’ and that emphasises ‘grassroots solidarity and relational Incarnational spirituality as the building blocks for a holistic engagement’ (p. 6) with poverty and its causes. In chapters 7 and 8, he draws on the arguments he has developed to begin to shape what he calls, ‘the methodological and thematic foundations for an austerity-age theology of liberation’ (p. 6).
A key theological theme running through his analysis is that poverty is structural; hence, systemic in its origins and causes. This is in line with the way Gustavo Gutiérrez, the father of Roman Catholic liberation theology, in his seminal work of 1971:‘A Theology of Liberation’, described it as being a result of structural sin. Thus, while Shannahan acknowledges, ‘As individuals we are accountable for our actions and decisions’ (p.18), he argues we are not accountable for, ‘the structural injustice that limits our opportunities and the choices we make’ (p.18). Therefore, from his perspective, in an age of austerity, a credible theology of liberation must, ‘move beyond flawed analyses that divorce poverty from its structural roots and apolitical visions of the common good’ (p. 18). Hence, for Shannahan, poverty is political, and, for an austerity-age theology of liberation to be credible and effective, it must be a political theology, capable of speaking truth to power and of bringing about changes that address the structural causes of poverty. Shannahan sets his analysis in the period of austerity that began in the UK in June, 2010 with the austerity budget, passed by the then Chancellor of the Exchequer, George Osborne, that saw significant cuts to public expenditure, including to the funding of the Welfare State. This, and later legislation, such as the Welfare Reform Act of 2012 that brought in cuts to welfare benefits, resulted in a deepening of inequality and a consequential rise in poverty levels. From Shannahan’s perspective, ‘such policies rupture the social fabric of British society and a shared commitment to the common good’ (p. 21). Indeed, he sees poverty as, ‘an insidious form of violence that can suffocate the life out of us.’(p. 22). In the struggle to overcome and eliminate poverty, Shannahan is unambiguous in his view that each of the four theological approaches to tackling poverty which he examines, have a role to play in shaping our response to it; hence, a role ‘in the forging of a new austerity-age theology of liberation’ (p. 199). However, he is more sympathetic to the ‘Community Building’, ‘Caring’, and ‘Campaigning and Advocacy’ approaches, than he is to the ‘Self-help and Enterprise’ approach, seeing the latter as being capable of deepening, ‘inequality by addressing individual poverty without challenging the structural injustice that causes it’ (p. 120).
Shannahan’s analysis is particularly strong in the skilful way in which he handles the historical contribution that Christian theology has made to tackling and reducing poverty. In this regard, his summaries of the contributions that traditions such as Catholic Social Teaching, the Social Gospel Movement, Christian Socialism, Christian Realism (of the kind espoused by Reinhold Niebuhr and Archbishop William Temple, Ronald H. Preston and John Atherton), and, more recently, the Christians on the Left movement, are informed, accurate and relevant. Again, he is of the view that all of these traditions can and should contribute to sowing the seeds of an austerity–age theology of liberation, and offers suggestions for how this might be achieved. He also touches on the British Liberation Theology tradition developed by Revd Dr John Vincent at the Urban Theology Unit (later renamed as the Urban Theology Union) in Sheffield, though with important contributions from Professor Chris Rowland and others. I would have liked to have seen more on the contribution that urban theology has made (and can make) to the alleviation and reduction of austerity-based, urban poverty. However, this does not in any way reduce my admiration for the comprehensive way in which Shannahan’s analysis covers so much ground, in ways that are clear and apposite.
Shannahan concludes the book by identifying a number of challenges he considers are essential for developing and sustaining a ‘rigorous and contextually authentic austerity-age theology of liberation and [to] ensure its traction within and beyond the academy’ (p. 199). These cover inter alia the work of the theologian, the church, the role of charities, the need for theological reflection, the need for a more proactive and sustained commitment from all participants in poverty alleviation by engaging in the political arena and with political purpose, and a need for solidarity to become a key feature of this movement for change. Roman Catholic values that place an importance on every person’s dignity, agency and the capacity for achieving solidarity in the field of human endeavour, feature prominently, in what is a call for action. As he puts it: ‘For the sake of all whose lives have been lost to the slow systemic violence of austerity-age poverty there can be no more delay’ (p. 206).
Shannahan has produced an important book on poverty, especially poverty caused by austerity, and the consequences for those who experience it, as well as on possible ways of overcoming it. It is a book that is based on a considerable amount of qualitative and quantitative research, which has benefited from a project group methodology that has been characterised by a multi-disciplinary approach to its information gathering and analysis. I have no hesitation in recommending it to all who share an interest in poverty, its causes and consequences, and possible ways of overcoming it.
Notes
[1] ‘Life on the Breadline: Christianity, Poverty and Politics in the 21st Century City, a Report for Policymakers in the UK’, is available for download via a Google search.
Hospitality Vulnerability and Resilience. The foundation has recently launched an online course to help people of faith to engage reflectively with community work among asylum seekers, refugees, and other migrant communities. This blog reflects on some of the issues covered in the course.
Immigration, asylum seekers, and small boats continue to make the headlines. Opinion polls suggest that immigration, especially the trafficking of people across the Channel is one of the most salient issues for the electorate. No one would deny that uncontrolled immigration, and the concentration of new arrivals in particular localities leads to tensions and issues around resources ( housing, schools, health service etc.), and over integration and learning English. However, it is possible to make the case that over the last half century these have been tackled successfully and many people would argue diversity has enriched our society.
Sadly, the narrative has been fuelled by misinformation, in the right wing media, amplified by social media and populist politicians. The public has fallen for the nativist narrative. Two thirds believe immigration is rising, when there has been a substantial fall, and most overestimate the numbers of people involved. In reality Government statistics show, that of 81600 long term visas issued, asylum claimants (110.00) represent a small proportion of immigrants, and with small boat arrivals at 46,000, over half of claimants are people already here on other types of visas. Undoubtedly there are asylum claimants who have little or no valid reasons to support their claim, who are using the (dysfunctional and chaotic) asylum process as a way of extending their stay in the UK following the expiration of student or work visas. There will also be a proportion of claimants who are in reality economic migrants, although the fact that over 60% are eventually found by the Home Office to have a well grounded fear of persecution or oppression in their home country suggests the numbers are small.
The politics around the issue are toxic, and intertwined with racism, Islamophobia, English (and now Christian) nationalism and the understandable discontent of working class people in “left behind” communities. In 2024 there were violent disturbances following the murders in Southport, falsely attributed to a Muslim asylum seeker, and in 2025 there were demonstrations outside hotels where asylum seekers were being housed, generally in miserable conditions. In the summer and autumn of 2025 a campaign to fly the flag led to union jacks and St Georges flags festooning lamposts in many parts of England. Reform under the leadership of millionaire racist Nigel Farage, advocating extreme policies hinting at Powellite style repatriation of long standing legal immigrants, appeared to be polling high, especially among white working class men. The toxic narratives were further enflamed by propaganda flowing from across the Atlantic, endorsed by the White House and the plutocrat who controls the social media channel X.
The Labour government rather than standing up to the racist narratives has followed populist policies of tightening immigration control and enforcement of rules about overstaying and illegal employment. They have suspended family reunion processes and made the routes to permanent settlement and citizenship more lengthy and more difficult. Income thresholds for bringing dependents and spouses into the UK have been significantly raised. They are making slow progress at reducing immigration numbers, and closing asylum hotels, but have neither sorted out the chaotic and slow bureaucratic system in the Home Office, nor convinced the public they are achieving their aims, nor provided an effective deterrent that convinces people wishing to enter the UK to turn back. In fact the harsher regime may have reduced the number of overseas students applying to UK universities, and the number of foreign doctors, and health and care staff willing to apply for, or extend contracts, jobs in Britain. The result is an institutional crisis in Higher Education, and a staffing crisis in the NHS.
Similar issues around immigration have fostered a rise in populist and nativist political movements across Europe, and in other countries such as Australia and the Gulf states. Perhaps the most frightening example is the USA under the democratically elected neo fascist MAGA regime of Trump. For people of faith the Christian nationalist underpinnings of this abhorrent politics present a profound theological challenge.
To satisfy my own curiosity I asked Chat GPT to produce a blog by artificial intelligence about a Christian approach to asylum seekers and refugees in the UK. These bullet points summarise what it said, and I hope we can all agree with most of it.
Radical hospitality and welcome is the norm and a spiritual issue for Christians
In 2024, more than 120 million people worldwide were forcibly displaced due to conflict, famine, or persecution.
The UK receives a lot of asylum seekers: many find themselves facing new challenges: navigating a complex asylum system
They come from countries such as Afghanistan, Syria, Ukraine, South Sudan, and the Democratic Republic of Congo—places where violence and instability have made ordinary life impossible.
Thousands of refugees and asylum seekers are currently living in temporary accommodation such as hotels or hostels. These environments are often isolating, and individuals may remain in them for months or even years while waiting for decisions on their asylum claims
The UK Church has a unique opportunity to respond with practical hospitality.
Hospitality is not an optional add‑on to Christian life—it is woven into the very fabric of Scripture. Hospitality was not merely about offering food or shelter; it was about recognising the image of God in every person and creating space for them to be seen, known, and loved.
A network of Welcome Churches help in navigating the complexities of building a new life in the UK. Without community, the journey from survival to flourishing becomes even harder.
Despite the challenges, churches across the UK are stepping into this space with creativity, compassion, and courage. A recent report from Theos Think Tank highlights the “distinct and crucial role” churches play in helping refugees integrate into British society.
Some churches are becoming official “Churches of Sanctuary,” part of the wider City of Sanctuary network, which encourages congregations to stand in solidarity with those seeking refuge and to challenge injustice wherever they see it.
Christian hospitality is not simply social work. It is a spiritual discipline that shapes both the giver and the receiver.
Hospitality also disrupts fear. In a cultural climate where refugees are often portrayed as threats,
Moreover, hospitality is transformative. Many churches report that their communities have been enriched by the presence of refugees.
Personally I have been involved now for over 50 years, starting with community work and informal English classes for East African Asian refugees who arrived in East London in the early 1970s. Through the 1980s and 1990s community work included campaigns offering support and sanctuary for people threatened unjustly with deportation. In the last decade with Preston City of Sanctuary (see history document) and churches offering support and community English classes. I and most of the Christians, Muslims and people of other faiths, and none take this approach for granted.
However, faced with the current hostile environment, this feels somewhat out of date. A much graver crisis is upon us. The international toxic politics needs a political and a profoundly theological response. We must become combative, fearless and prophetic in what we say, write, and do to oppose the harsh narratives and policies that dehumanise our brothers and sisters. In the USA Christians are divided, but some are taking a stance against the heresy of Christian nationalism and even putting their bodies in the way of the armed terroism of ICE and the Federal government, in order to protect the strangers who have become their neighbours. Pope Leo is providing a significant lead in this battle and sanctuary type resistance has a long history in the USA
In the UK we may yet be able to affect the outcome and bend the arc of history towards justice by democratic means. . Krish Kandiah leads the way with many graciously but pointed Christian critiques of the right wing narratives about sanctuary seekers in various media channels.
Today we must always be aware of the dangers of fascism and racism, and should a populist and racist movement ever come to power in the UK, the Church, Christians, other people of faith, and all progressive democrats will face a profound political and theological crisis, a Kairos moment. What will we then do?
The Foundation has long entertained the idea of reconnecting with its roots and re-building its programme of lifelong learning as a ‘College without Walls’ to address the challenges of contemporary world.
The original ‘bricks and mortar’ version of the William Temple College was founded in 1947. The theological college trained lay men and women to relate Christian faith to the realities of the secular world. As we launch this month our online platform for the William Temple College, the following passage from a letter by E. M. ‘Mollie’ Batten (she was a principal of the College and a key contributor to the syllabus) offers an imaginary bridge between the past and the present.
‘[…] Lay folk are called to lead their fellows in thought and action, both in Church and in society, and they must have opportunity to undertake such studies […] for the length of time and at the level which will help them to carry out their responsibilities as well as be persuasive to their fellow men. When the Church of England and other churches take this modern situation seriously, we believe that William Temple College will be seen to have ventured to some purpose and will be found ready to fulfil the tasks‘ (Batten, Letter to Dr Vidler, November 1964).
In 1971, the College became the William Temple Foundation – focusing on training programmes, research and publishing in the field of Christian social ethics. Since then, the Foundation has widened its contribution to public debates within an increasingly diverse and multicultural public sphere, bringing in a wider range of perspectives. Its main objective – to connect faith in the public square with the realities of the secular world through education, research, and dialogue – has remained unchanged.
The College without Walls – like Abraham’s Tent open on all sides to welcome strangers – offers an ideal environment to experiment with pedagogical approaches, to test new ideas and explore interactive formats. Building on the launch of the Virtual Festival of Theology in the summer of 2024, we continue this work with the development of online courses.
In today’s world marked by divisions and hostile attitudes towards sanctuary seekers, there is little time or space to reflect on practices of refugee welcome and support. We invite you to join our first cohort of participants to learn together, strengthen your impact and examine case studies and practical strategies from the City of Sanctuary UK, HIAS+JCORE, Preston City of Sanctuary, PAN Intercultural Arts and William Temple Foundation.
Drawing on William Temple’s ecumenical approach to associational life – where diverse groups, perspectives and beliefs collaborate, co-exist and flourish – the course will equip you with tools for critical reflection and inspiring examples of faith and civil society activism, empowerment and social justice. It is a perfect opportunity to exchange ideas and find new partners for innovative projects. Each week, you will engage in individual learning and collaborative work – you can complete each module at your own pace and in your own time.
Hospitality has become a widely-used, though contested concept (Farahani 2021). And yet both theological and secular accounts of ‘welcoming the stranger’ emphasise the relational aspect of engaging across different faith traditions, cultures and communities. These narratives are also shaped by personal and collective accounts of migration and humanitarian motivations to alleviate injustices of the asylum system and welfare provision.
As we welcome newcomers, we are reminded of the need re-negotiate the boundaries between hosts and guests to create more reciprocal and dignified relations. It is about recognising sanctuary seekers as experts by experience and celebrating their individual and collaborative contributions to local communities.
This work calls for collective welfare support and campaigning to re-imagine hospitality and integration as a two-way process, rather than a two-tier model – one that too often prioritises those considered ‘deserving’ of our hospitality.
The William Temple Foundation will be bidding a fond farewell to its Director of Research for the past 24 years, Professor Chris Baker who will be leaving his post this Easter. Whilst continuing to work as the William Temple Professor of Religion, Belief and Public Life at Goldsmiths, he is also moving on to take up a new role as Visiting Professor at the Helsinki Institute for Social Science and Humanities, University of Helsinki and will be moving into public policy consultancy in 2026.
Chris Baker started his first day at the Foundation as its Information Officer on the 11th September 2001 – an inflection point in geo-political change that has continued to define a restless and anxious millennium. The role of religion and belief was a key component in the events leading up to 9/11 and has been a key component in its aftermath, helping to shape our current global and national order in ways that are both profoundly regressive and progressive.
Under Professor Baker’s direction, the Foundation has tracked these seismic shifts and attempted to identify new trends and trajectories in the world of religion, politics and culture through a sustained output of research, books, articles, roundtables, conferences, Temple tracts, Temple books, podcasts and blogs throughout this entire period. It has attempted to do so in way that address theological and policy audiences, grassroots, academic and institutional settings, increasingly across all faiths and none.
In doing so it has sought to capture the vision, and model the practice of, Archbishop William Temple whose leadership helped create the postwar welfare state. In the process, Temple galvanised a national debate at the time as to the sort of society, or social order, we want to build in England and the wider UK. That debate continues with even greater urgency than before, and the Foundation will continue to make a vital contribution to it in the months and years ahead.
In his letter of resignation Professor Baker writes: ‘It has also been a complete honour and privilege to have journeyed and collaborated with so many amazing colleagues from whom I have learned so much. The Foundation has been a home to me for so many years. Temple’s thought will continue to inspire me and inhabit every fibre of my being. I wish it every success and look forward to seeing it flourish in the next phase of its incredible history.’
Professor Simon Lee, Chair of Trustees writes, ‘The trustees are most grateful to Professor Chris Baker for his sustained, pioneering and distinguished service to the William Temple Foundation and to the Temple Tradition over all those 24 years. The country needs such research more than ever into the invaluable role of diverse faith communities in the public square. Chris Baker’s insightful research and public engagement have put us in a strong position to celebrate our Foundation’s 80th anniversary next year as we move towards living out the Temple Tradition as a virtual college.’
A response to the launch of “Towards the Conversion of the Church of England by the Rest of England”
As necessitated by its name, a lot of the discussion surrounding the William Temple Foundation’s “Towards the Conversion of the Church of England” project has been focused on the difficult position the Church of England is in. Falling congregation sizes, internal debates, impending national irrelevance if the Church does not act soon. The Church faces imminent threats to its survival.
However, in recent months we have also seen a degree of hope emerge about the Church’s future. The Bible Society’s infamous “Quiet Revival” report showed a growth in Church attendance, albeit not yet for the Anglican Church. As Professor Linda Woodhead referenced in her reflections on the project, many people are becoming more open to spirituality in England. In these changing times, and with a new Archbishop, the Church needs to look to the future with initiative and action. Yet the question remains: what action does the Church of England, in all its diversity, need to take?
Professor Woodhead, in her response on the “Towards the Conversion of the Church of England” series, rightly cited the importance of parishes in the future of the Church of England, as well as the fact that there is no one-size-fits-all solution due to the varied and multifaceted nature of each congregation. Local parishes best know how they can serve their own communities, in ways that the national Church couldn’t imagine. If we want to see a Church of England that is thriving, perhaps we need to let local parishes do more of the talking.
In my own reflection on “Towards the Conversion of the Church of England”, I have found myself turning to the Letter to Diognetus – an ancient depiction of the early Church. The writer describes Christians as not being
“distinguished from other men by country, language, nor by the customs which they observe. They do not inhabit cities of their own, use a particular way of speaking, nor lead a life marked out by any curiosity… Instead, they inhabit both Greek and barbarian cities, however things have fallen to each of them. And it is while following the customs of the natives in clothing, food, and the rest of ordinary life that they display to us their wonderful and admittedly striking way of life.”
The early Church of the New Testament existed in their own communities, testifying to their own faith through actions and service. They were distinct, set apart, in their lifestyles. The writer goes on to reproach against Christian complacency:
“The soul is dispersed through all the parts of the body, and Christians are scattered through all the cities of the world. The soul lives in the body, yet is not of the body; Christians live in the world, yet are not of the world.”
It seems that the Church of England has forgotten its missional call to be set apart, and in doing so has become a cultural chameleon, blending in to the backdrop of modern society. As the national Church, intricately entwined with the state, complacency is an easy trap for the Church of England to fall into. Yet its established role within institutions of government also affords the Church one of its greatest opportunities. In the reflections he shared at the book launch for “Towards the Conversion of the Church of England”, John Denham discussed the role the Church can play nationally in shaping the values and direction of our country. The beautiful dichotomy of the Anglican Church, he reflected, is that it is parochial, but it is also national. It can be invested in local communities whilst also playing an important role in providing firm guidance and hope during a period of deep political turmoil.
But crucially, that would require the Church of England to become much more purpose driven. In recent years, the Church seems to have lost its distinctiveness. This is an argument that has been popularly made by the historian Tom Holland, who has frequently argued that the Church needs to be “weird” again. The Bible Society’s “Quiet Revival” report found that growth was seen mostly in Pentecostal and Roman Catholic churches. Whilst they are two drastically different traditions, they are both united by passion and drama. They unashamedly believe in mystery and spirituality, something beyond the physical world.
We are standing at a pivotal time for our country. In our postmodern society, we have deconstructed value and truth down to a meaningless oblivion. The result, as we are seeing up and down the country through the so called “Quiet Revival”, is a country that is crying out for purpose. This is the moment the Church needs to step up and embrace its strength as a purveyor of guidance. The Church needs to remember its purpose: to serve the world and share the good news of the gospel, and to not be ashamed of what it believes.
As I think about the future of the Church of England, I’m reminded of a Church I’ve recently visited in South London. Balancing two markedly different Church services and congregations, the Church has managed to grow and serve its local community. The first service is a more traditional, “high Church” Anglican service, featuring liturgy, robes and processing the Bible. But if you were to return a few hours later, you would find the same vicar and same sermon, but a much “lower” Church affair – charismatic worship and, dare I say, a few ripped jeans. Both services are thriving, and congregations mix in house groups and church events, as well as through serving the needs of the community together. Perhaps this can be a source of hope for the future of the Church of England, in all its variety and diversity. Many parts, united into one body by shared purpose. Living distinct lives that share God’s love with their communities.
By Abigail King, journalist and Parliamentary Assistant in the House of Lords.
The William Temple Foundation is a broad church. The first of these Temple Takes by fellow trustee, Dr David Shaw, anticipated the Coronation with a pre-emptive strike against the monarchy. Now it is my turn to offer a different take.
This Foundation explores faith in the public square. Coronations have been a prime example of this in action, over a thousand years. This month’s Coronation was more inclusive than its predecessors of diverse denominations and faiths.
While conceding that the monarchy is ‘a good show’, David Shaw notes ‘that ermine and gold braid costs an awful lot of money’. He was not alone in this approach. The Coronation was dismissed as a ‘pantomime’ of ‘obscene lavishness’ by the journalist Suzanne Breen, writing in the Belfast Telegraph.
Yet the Guardian’s exhaustive investigations concluded that the Coronation cost each UK taxpayer about £1.50. If we had been saving up since the previous Coronation, that would have been just over two pence each per year or, if we think instead of creating a sinking fund for the next one, perhaps ten pence each per year.
Since the last Coronation seventy years ago, the USA has held 19 inaugurations for 13 Presidents. These too have an oath, a ceremony, a prayer, a cathedral service the next day, and there are many inauguration balls. Some of the funding in the USA comes from individual supporters, which might be welcomed here, but some of those donors become ambassadors, which would not be. I would like the Prince of Wales, when his time comes, to adopt the model of Edward VII’s Coronation instead, for which the King opened and personally contributed to an appeal which funded a free Coronation Dinner for half a million of the poorest Londoners. William V would ideally extend its reach throughout the UK, realms and territories. The meals went ahead that summer, in hundreds of locations, when the Coronation itself had to be delayed because of the King’s poor health.
William Temple attended that 1902 Coronation as a gentleman-in-waiting to his father, who was then the Archbishop of Canterbury, and played his own part as the Archbishop of York in the 1937 Coronation of George VI. Temple enjoyed three enthronements of his own at Manchester, York and Canterbury, or four if you count the double enthronement in Canterbury as bishop of that diocese and as Primate of All England. Despite it being in wartime, the Canterbury enthronements saw him in what the Church Times described as a ‘magnificent cope and mitre’. There was gold aplenty. None of this stopped him being one of the founders of the Welfare State.
The other point where I beg to differ from David Shaw is when he imagines that defenders of the monarchy would argue that it only has a ceremonial role whereas it is more than that. The second part of his claim is correct, although he only gives examples of what he sees as self-interested interference by the royal family in the political sphere. There are many positive and practical (as opposed here to ‘ceremonial’) contributions by the contemporary constitutional monarchy which celebrate our charities and the arts, which have been prophetic in warning of the climate crisis, which give voice and opportunities to some of the otherwise voiceless on the margins of society, as in the work of the Prince’s Trust, and which bring all faiths into the public square.
Nevertheless, there is nothing necessarily wrong with ceremonial roles and nor is there anything necessarily wrong with ceremonies. Ceremony itself has its place in the public square. Religious ceremonies in particular merit serious study. Yet a pillar of the British establishment, former editor of The Times, Sir Simon Jenkins, now writing for The Guardian, is more outspoken than David Shaw: ‘Is Britain completely mad? Trying to read meaning into such events is completely hopeless.’
In contrast, Juliet Samuel in The Times, writing in the week before the Coronation, had argued that critics of King Charles III miss the point: ‘What they don’t grasp is why the institution at the centre of this weird ritual, the monarchy, has lasted on and off for more than a thousand years… Where the sceptics see a fuddy-duddy infatuated by new-age nonsense, I see traditional religion informed by modern pluralism.’
Rachel Cooke, in The Observer, could see the pageantry as a ‘preposterous vision’ but considered that, ‘Only a stone-hearted person could fail to have been moved by the multifaith parts of the service, and if you felt nothing when the choir sang Handel’s Zadok the Priest at the king’s anointment, you are either an algorithm or half dead.’
She was also impressed by the military processions’ ‘precision that was unbelievable in a country where nothing works.’ A question for a faith foundation is whether the religious ceremony worked that well. Was it sacramental or quasi-sacramental? Did the anointing bring grace? The sacred music was varied, plentiful and uplifting. Does that make a difference? Was the ritual right? Was the emphasis on service authentic or was it, so to speak, lip-service? Almost nobody approved of the formula in the oath, perhaps not even the King. Nor was the attempt to inveigle us into paying homage well received. When asked if that was his idea, the Archbishop of Canterbury claimed he honestly could not remember. When asked about the gold robes and coach, he did remember that the former were borrowed and that the latter was paid for centuries earlier. He told his interviewer, Julie Etchingham, that there was no need to be miserable about all this.
In all its aspects, each Coronation needs to be reviewed in timely fashion. Meanwhile, if you cannot bring yourself to ponder the faith dimensions of what we have just witnessed, then there are secular rites of passage which have some instructive parallels, such as university graduations. When Queen Elizabeth II was crowned in 1953, fewer than 4% of the UK’s school-leavers had the opportunity of university education. Nowadays, the figure is more than 50%. With their family members in attendance, this means that more than half the country experience graduation ceremonies. Some of these are in sacred spaces and others also draw on religious liturgies and forms but even the most secular have lessons in understanding the religious Coronation. Some staff might remain, or affect to be, miserable when asked to dress up or otherwise attend but nowadays almost all students, their families and friends find joy in graduations.
It does not need a degree in pageantry to understand the significance in graduations of the medieval gowns, the hoods, the headgear, the university regalia, the music, the formalities of wording, the processions, even in some cases the ermine on a hood or gown or the gold braid on a Chancellor’s gown. Students are burdened by the cost of the degree but only marginally more by any extra cost of graduation tickets for family and friends. They know that gowns and hoods are mostly recycled, as at the Coronation. Those attending can readily understand the concept of a Chancellor, a university’s equivalent to a constitutional monarch, even though they know that the executive power lies elsewhere. Families appreciate the effort to respect a university’s place in the history of education and all their students’ contributions to that community. They value the chance to meet staff, to give thanks and to be thanked for their support.
A Coronation is not just a graduation for the monarch. In a sense, we are all graduands as one era gives way to another. The Coronation was a rite of passage but it was also a leap of faith. Far from it being ‘hopeless’ to read meaning into the Coronation, the meaning was already there. A more charitable reading of our shared experience is that the Coronation extolled the virtue of hope for faith in the public square.
Simon Lee is Professor of Law & Director of Research, Aston Law School; Emeritus Professor of Jurisprudence, Queen’s University Belfast; and Chair of the Board of Trustees of the William Temple Foundation
‘Doing God is often messy and controversial, but the social benefits far outweigh the negatives’ would seem to be the gist of this much-anticipated review by Colin Bloom into how Government engages with faith which was published this week. The delay (three years in the writing) is partly explained by COVID but also in fairness, to the sheer amount of data the report received. Over 22,000 submissions and a million pieces of data later suggests that the issues surrounding religion and belief and its practice is still incredibly live and important. As the review correctly observes:
Faith in England and Wales is alive and well, and the abundance of detailed and passionate responses to this review across many faith and belief communities highlights the importance of the topic to many in contemporary British society. Faith is a diverse and evolving force which government cannot afford to ignore. (p. 30)
It is also the first review of its kind ever undertaken and is linked to the government’s Levelling Up agenda. The connection between religion and levelling up is not developed in report (perhaps because there is little consensus on what is meant by Levelling Up in the first place). But it perhaps betrays a sublimated wish on the part of Government for religion to act as both a moral legitimator for a rudderless policy term, and the hope that the activities and motivation of faith groups in upholding and developing their local communities (often the poorest and the most deprived) will give much needed meaningful content to the idea.
The report frames its understanding with a typology of true-believers, no-believers and make-believers. Increasing numbers of people in this society may baulk at such a simplistic binary narrative as true believer or no believer on the grounds that their religious and spiritual beliefs are deeply felt but complex and nuanced in their public expression. Make-believers refers to those who distort religious ideas into fundamentalist national and identity politics. The report is at pains to stress that these are a minority but that their activity needs to be more tightly regulated by government for the sake of safeguarding and freedom of speech.
This typology is necessary for understanding the rest of the report; i.e. that government needs to support and understand religion and belief in the round, and strategically support good religion and belief as a vital resource for promoting social wellbeing, equality and participation. To this end the report advocates firm policies on religious literacy for all public sector bodies, increased resourcing for RE in education and for those key areas where religion intersects with public provision in prison and health care, and the appointment of a national independent Faiths Champion.
But the report is equally clear that it is the role of the state to crack down on bad (or make-believe) religions linked to forms of nationalist and religious extremism. All the main religious faith traditions in the UK (including Christianity and its co-option by some far-right groups) have clear links with banned international and domestic terrorist organisations. Bad religion also rightly includes the practices of forced marriage and spiritual abuse in its list of things that Government needs to actively prescribe. However, the uneven and disproportionate way these sections are treated – issues outlining Sikh extremism occupies twice the length of discussion than all the other faith groups out together – is likely to raise accusations of potential tarring whole communities in ways that the Prevent programme has done for the Muslim community. The repeated observation that freedom to practice Christianity in the UK is now perceived to be under threat (perhaps the point could have been made just once or twice) is likely to fuel the toxic culture wars rhetoric of right-wing media and far-right groups.
Ultimately, the Bloom Review, is something of a missed opportunity to move the debate on religion and belief in England in a ground-breaking way. The research I undertook for the APPG on Faith and Society analysed the pandemic as a ‘permission space’ that allowed us to talk about religion and belief in a new way that also led to innovative and effective partnerships with secular agencies. The anxieties that secular groups usually feel about working with faith groups (for example, proselytization safeguarding, a lack of accountability etc) were suspended for the sake of effective working together. Stereotypes were largely disproved in the relationships forged in the crucible of the pandemic. Instead of difference this crucible highlighted shared values and therefore the possibility of achieving shared outcomes through co-creation of policies rather than co-production.
I hope the Bloom Review will be a landmark document that brings about lasting and positive change to faith and secular relations. What is missing is a step-change in re-imagining the role of religion and belief in British society that is commensurate with the unprecedented nature of the challenges facing this country. Most of the report’s recommendations see religion more as a problem to be managed, rather than highlighting, for example, the potential of religious ideas to profoundly shape the overall policy framework that delivers the sort of society we want to create. There is a reference to round tables. Where, however, are the structural opportunities to devise and shape policy, as well as deliver policy? William Temple did that 80 years ago from a Judeo-Christian perspective in his book report – Christianity and Social Order, which was published in1942 and paved the way for the post-war Welfare State. Levelling Up is a policy in desperate need of that sort of envisioning now, and it would be a multifaith and postsecular endeavour, not purely a Christian one.
As we negotiate the legacy of the pandemic, the ongoing cost of living crisis and the horror of climate disaster, religion and belief could – indeed should – be a real force for social renewal through this re-envisioning of levelling up, rather than applying sticking plasters and bandages to systems and policy plans that are already deeply broken.
In early 2022, I was the inaugural recipient of the William Temple Foundation Postdoctoral Award. Twelve months on, I am writing to share some of what has happened following the award. There are a number of strands to what is now an established postdoctoral agenda. Here I will share one strand, which covers work that is emerging with the Dialogue Society in Liverpool, beginning with a community Iftar in April.
The Fellows’ Award has been developed using a legacy from Len Collinson, former Deputy Lieutenant of Merseyside, Honorary Professor of the University of Central Lancashire, and business leader in northwest England. Collinson recognised that enterprise and interdisciplinary partnerships were central tenets of a flourishing society. Prof. Simon Lee, Chair of the William Temple Foundation, said of the award:
“A core part of the Foundation’s work has been supporting William Temple Scholars as they pursue their doctoral studies at Goldsmiths, University of London. Trustees have now committed to encouraging Scholars, once they have been awarded their PhD, to apply their research in society.”
In this spirit, I have begun to utilise the award to explore how dialogue can inform leadership and shared values in Liverpool, in uncertain times. The full project is set out in three blogs, the first of which can be found here. Following a call for participation, a connection with the Dialogue Society was established, which then connected me with volunteers who had recently moved to Liverpool.
For those who have not heard of it, the Dialogue Society is an international network that supports local Branches to establish associations in cities and to gather interested parties together to share. This is often done over food using an Iftar as a basis for a gathering. The Dialogue Society has drawn on the inspiration of the Hizmet Movement, a Turkish Muslim inspired approach to dialogue. Where a Branch is present it will convene meetings outside of the Iftar. In Liverpool there is not a Branch at present, but there is interest in establishing one.
In May 2022, I convened a dialogue in Liverpool. We met using Zoom, attracting attendance from Turkish muslim asylum seekers who had moved to Liverpool during the pandemic. The dialogue lasted for two hours and we explored questions of hope, barriers to hope and what might be done to overcome these barriers in the city. In response, themes included the safety and education of their children, loss of loved ones, the limitations created by a language barrier, and the stress and insecurity of being in an unknown city in an unknown country.
One respondent noted that this was the first time they had been offered space to reflect on their journeys and the difficulties they faced. One attendee noted that they would want to say a great deal more than their English could allow them too. They asked for the opportunity to write down their feelings and their experiences and to share these with those gathered with the hope that it could develop an opportunity for further reflection. Those gathered expressed a deep resilience to overcome barriers and to connect with people in the new communities they were part of. The small actions of others, a phone call from a friend in turkey, a cup of tea from a fellow community member in the city they have moved to were significant.
What had become clear is that through the transition into the UK the group gathered had found a new appreciation for the role social connection plays in their lives. They noted that they had lost work (in business and science and education) but gained a sense of togetherness and common humanity. This offered the basis for gatherings to continue, exploring a common humanity with others in the city to which they have just moved, not limited by their own preconceptions and worldviews per se, but finding common and shared ground with those communities that had welcomed them in to contribute to the place in which they now live.
This dialogue has become the basis for further gatherings that are taking place in 2023. The first of these is on the 12th April, when Dialogue Society and Spaces of Hope will convene a community Iftar at the Pal Multicultural Centre in Liverpool. We will continue to develop the dialogue we began in 2022, exploring the theme of hope and whether it would be a fruitful thing to do to establish a Branch of the Dialogue Society in Liverpool. Our focus on hope is a response to the many uncertainties we live with today. These include the cost of living crisis, the energy crisis, the pandemic, climate change, and many more. The goal is to facilitate resilience in the city, with people from across different communities, with different beliefs, values, and worldviews in curating a more hopeful place to live.
If you are in Liverpool and wish to attend the gathering, you are welcome to RSVP to Matthew at matthew@spacesofhope.co.uk by 31st March 2023.
Anthony A.J. Williams, The Christian Left: An Introduction to Radical and Socialist Christian Thought (Cambridge: Polity Press, 2022), 211 pages ; 23 cm; ISBN: 9781509542819.
Dr Matthew Barber-Rowell, Research Fellow of the William Temple Foundation
As a Temple scholar and research fellow, my position is informed by and shaped by the Temple Tradition, that is, the deployment of Temple’s ‘consultative methodology’ as a means of brokering across difference (Spencer, 2017). So my view is not limited only to the historical references made by Williams. This is a blessing in terms of drawing on the wisdom and prophetic impact of a giant of the 20th-Century, but also a hindrance, in that Temple offers us only one way to examine the relationship between Christianity and politics. With this consideration in mind, I am grateful to Anthony A. J. Williams for his survey of 150 years of the Christian Left, which takes us on a journey from the Guild of Saint Matthew in Bethnal Green (1877), through the emergence of Christian socialism in the early 20th-Century, through an exploration of the different political and theological facets to the contemporary Christian Left and the challenge going forward.
The opening pages challenge us to consider how contemporary politics is related to Christianity. An image is used of Donald Trump holding a Bible whilst appealing to his political base in the United States. Although a few years old now, this image speaks to the zeitgeist in terms of polarisation, extremism and division, often inspired by, some claim to Christian faith. Is this coercive and controlling behaviour characteristic of Christianity? Williams does not think so. And if not, is there a coherent alternative on offer? This is the challenge Williams sets out, and which he seeks to find answers in The Christian Left.
There is, Williams’ suggests, no one single tradition that can be categorised as the Christian Left. Rather, there are multiple different influences on a movement characterised by concepts of brotherhood, justice, liberty, equality and cooperation. Of these, I found the concept of brotherhood to be most prominent. The foundational influence of the brotherhood of F. D. Maurice, Charles Kingsley and John Ludlow (1848 onwards) on Christian Socialism, was set out at the beginning of Chapter One. With the final words being given to brothers from Balliol College, R, H. Tawney, and William Temple (culminating in 1944). The influence of Stewart Headlam, the founder of the Guild of St Matthew, is used to good affect.
Although, I did not know of his impact, Headlam is given credit for carrying the message of Maurice et. al., and influencing those who shaped the vision for the post-war Labour Government. Through Headlam’s activism, the concept of brotherhood becomes rooted in both a high Anglo-Catholic Christian, and a Socialist worldview. William’s analysis is helpful in understanding that whilst Headlam and his contemporaries are a driving force, they are also deemed to be somewhat esoteric in their approach. It appears that the Christian Social Union (CSU) was set up by Scott Holland and Charles Gore in part at least to avoid Headlam. These details are interesting historically, and become pertinent later in the book, as part of the overarching challenge facing the Christian Left. How are differences dealt with and what does this mean for the Christian Left as a whole? I am left with the understanding that the concept of brotherhood underpins, but this does not mean that it is easy to adhere to.
Williams’ develops his account by exploring the oscillation between questioning of what the Christian Left is and the context of ideological milieu. Following the impact of the post-war Labour Government, building on the vision of Temple and Tawney, groups within the Labour Party and the Christian Left took divergent paths. Different groups later emerged: Christian Socialist Movement (now Christian on the Left), William Temple Foundation, Ekklesia, Jubilee, and latterly Blue Labour and others. Williams account suggests that the boundaries between these groups had been blurred. On the one hand this allowed for the movement of prominent leaders between the groups, which galvanised support, but on the other hand led to confusion around what it meant to be on the Christian Left and indeed a Christian on the left.
The chapters that follow share informed accounts of the different camps that we can understand as being part of the Christian Left, from the Social Gospel, to Catholic Social Teaching, to Lutheran, Reformed or Methodist traditions, to a plethora of liberation theologies, including Black, Womanist, LGBT+, Feminist, and others. There is not space here to engage with these in a way that does them justice, so do pick up a copy for Williams chapters on these topics. However, I will flag the helpful theological question mark that Williams offers in the final chapter. In terms of the positions that different parts of the Christian Left take up, and in terms of the views that underpin those positions. Does the worldview inform the theology or the theology inform the worldview? This question is present in the early movement, highlighted by the focus on Headlam and returns as a constituent theme throughout the movement.
Foundational to the Christian Left and therefore to this volume is the concept of brotherhood. Williams makes clear that brotherhood is contested at least in terms of its foundations, its grammar, and therefore its universalism. Williams’ use of the term allows for exploration of the Christian Left historically and ideologically and also allows for recognition of the imperfections of the movement. However, Williams’ conclusion leaves me with mixed feelings. This is not due to Williams’ writing, but rather his realistic critique of the Christian Left as things stand: the Christian Left is in danger of experiencing alienation from others within the Christian faith and, it appears, also from other none Christian actors on the left. I hope this does not transpire, but Williams volume leaves me with an understanding of how and why it could.
The Trumpian imagery used to open the volume shows that there is a challenge that the Christian Left can meet. The political trajectory in the UK in 2023 indicates the rise of the Labour Party – the removal of the Labour Party from special measures by the EHRC is the latest sign of this. The danger presented by Williams is that the Christian Left might maintain the milieu and it’s alienation from itself in a way that hastens the hopeless descent heralded by Trump. We may hope instead is that the Christian Left can manoeuvre itself into an altogether more hopeful movement characterised by lucid clarity seen previously on the Christian Left. Time will tell. With this in mind Williams’ work has helped to set out the precedence that exists for this oscillation toward opportunity.
Nonviolence, Just War, or Peacebuilding? Catholic Ethics and the Russia-Ukraine War
2023 is a year of notable anniversaries in the Roman Catholic Church. April sees the 60th Anniversary of the promulgation of John XXIII’s Pacem in Terris written as the Cuban Missile Crisis terrified the world, whilst May brings the 40th Anniversary of The Challenge of Peace published by the United States Bishops’ Conference in response to the continuing threat of nuclear war that overshadowed the years before 1989.
One would hope that in commemorating the anniversaries of these publications, we would be living in a very different context – a context in which nuclear arms were no longer a threat but rather a topic that allowed people the chance to reminisce about nuclear warning drills at school and the relief they felt at the resolution of the Cuban Missile Crisis. Sadly, we do not. In the past year, whenever people have heard that I am a Christian ethicist who works on matters relating to war and peace, they inevitably ask me in worried tones: ‘do you think that Putin will launch a nuclear missile attack on the West?’ To which my usual reply is ‘probably not, but there’s no point in worrying about it because if it happens, we’ll all be dead anyway.’
My dark sense of humour aside, the events in Ukraine over the last year have been a sobering reminder that we are, as Pope Francis frequently reminds us, ‘fighting a third world war piecemeal’ and there is something about the invasion of Ukraine that has really brought this home to us, in a way that the fighting in Yemen and Syria for instance hasn’t. Whether this is a result of the renewal of Cold War hostilities or collective guilt regarding the West’s role in destabilising the Middle East and colonisation, remains to be seen and I’m sure will be endlessly debated in the years to come.
Responses within the Roman Catholic Church, the tradition from which I write, have been similarly intense. This is particularly because, as paragraph 2309 of the Catechism teaches, self-defence is one of the few categories of Just War teaching remaining and it rapidly became apparent that both Ukrainian forces and society would be able to withstand this invasion. A Temple Tract written with Professor Tobias Winright of St Patrick’s Pontifical University, Maynooth, explores these debates in the light of the invasion of Ukraine by Russia. In it, we show how the concepts of just war, just peace, and peacebuilding have been brought to bear in moral analyses of this war, as well as how the war has impacted these ethical perspectives.
Debates on matters relating to war and peace have been a key feature of the so-called ‘culture wars’ that dominate Roman Catholicism in the US, and which sadly seem to be making their way over to the UK. In broad brush strokes this means that conservatives advocate for ‘just war theory’ and liberals are ‘absolute pacifists’. Pope Francis’s advocacy of nonviolence (which is not the definitive declaration campaigned for by the Catholic Nonviolence Initiative) is seen as either dangerous or something to be celebrated rather than for what it is: a continuation of the past 60 years of papal teaching. Neither side are as bad or as naïve as the other side likes to think, but, in public at least, they aren’t conversing with one another.
This form of either/or thinking is damaging. It allows for the maintenance of a state of negative peace in which the threat of violence is always present and sees positive peace as utopian rather than the hope offered to us by Christ’s kenosis. The nature and form of the debate allows Roman Catholics to abdicate responsibility for peace, because, so the logic goes, war and peace are matters of international relations and are something that we can’t do anything about. Most worryingly though, it leaves no space in between for the kind of thinking that comes from ethicists, such as Tobias Winright, Lisa Sowle Cahill, and myself, and activists, such as women religious working in conflict zones, who seek to reconcile the two into a position which accepts that violence can and will happen, but that it should be mitigated, and that we all ought to be working towards creating a state of positive peace both globally and locally.
We have a saying in Irish ‘leagfaidh tua bheag crann mór’ literally ‘a small axe can fell a big tree’ which is helpful when one is overwhelmed by the scale of the task facing us. We can build peace in a myriad of ways, we can as Cardinal Matteo Zuppi suggests create a zone of ceasefires around our hearts which will ripple outwards like a pebble thrown into water; we can pray for peace; we can educate ourselves on the ways in which nonviolent activism works and implement its teachings into our everyday lives; we can campaign for as much money to be spent on humanitarian assistance as on arms. What we can’t do is remain silent in the face of the suffering caused by war.
