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Coffee House

Camp vicars and smug gossips: is this really the Church of England’s best look?

14 February 2017

1:13 PM

14 February 2017

1:13 PM

I have mixed feelings about ‘the Reverend Richard Coles’, whose new
memoir I have just read. It’s great that a vicar has such high
 visibility – and why shouldn’t there be one or two luvvie-priests, who
 mix smoothly with celebs? And I have no doubt that he combines this
 with being an excellent parish priest, preaching great sermons,
 patiently attending to the needy (in a way that the rest of us don’t).

And yet…how shall I put this? It’s not totally ideal that the most
 famous vicar of our day represents the camp-smug-gossipy wing of the church. His love of vestments and incense and saucy humour is in a 
long and venerable-ish Anglican tradition. And he is a nice, gentle,
 wise face of this tradition: he’s well aware of its potential
 ghastliness. And yet, he exemplifies its air of complacency. He gives 
the impression that the C of E is fundamentally in fine fettle – for
 look what a fun existence it can support! Look what old-fashioned 
larks we clergy (we in this particular clique) have! Look what a rich 
flavour of gossip we enjoy!


Am I having a go at gay clergy? Partly: there is an air of 
self-righteousness in this subculture, which overlaps with gay-rights
 culture in general. At one point he relates being at a wedding at
 which the bride’s father ‘made a speech expressing the view that life 
came down to this: the bringing together of man and wife in holy
 matrimony, for the begetting of children, in the turning circle of
 life. I was sitting on the gay table and a friend whispered in my ear,
“It’s not really for the likes of us, is it?”.’ For me this sums up 
gay chippiness. Is it illegitimate to celebrate heterosexual love
 these days?

My wider niggle is that he is too comfy in the culture of high-church
Anglicanism. I suppose this niggle stems from my own ambivalence. I 
admire this tradition, but in an anxious way. I see it as a glorious 
thing that is failing to renew itself, that needs radical reinvention of some sort. For these old forms are inadequate communicators of
 Christ to our culture – they are not working well enough. Should we
 not strive to reinvent them, rather than rejoice in their quirky
 beauty? I approve of priests who are committed to these old forms, but 
I particularly approve of those who, while serving them, are uneasily
 aware of how alienating they can be.

As it happens I have also just read an excellent new book of essays in
 which vicars do reflect on exactly this: on the uphill struggle of 
their calling, and the need to admit that certain inherited forms are
 dying (For God’s Sake, edited by Jessica Martin and Sarah Coakley).
The best of these essays are written by vicars who cheerfully affirm 
their tradition, but refuse to find it a comfy little niche.

Subscribe to The Spectator today for a quality of argument not found in any other publication. Get more Spectator for less – just £12 for 12 issues.


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