What's left of Christianity

For an East German atheist, I spent a surprising amount of time this week thinking about religion — Christianity to be precise. I’ve just returned from a conference at Corpus Christi College of the University of Cambridge where we discussed the crisis of liberalism and what — if anything — might replace our current economic, political and social order now that so many voters in the West appear to reject the status quo. Some delegates believed that we should return to a firmer grounding in Christianity.

It became obvious very quickly that the assembled postliberals around me shared a sense that the current focus on the individual and freewheeling economics was breaking down social cohesion, leaving too many people exposed to poverty and fending for themselves. There was also agreement that how we live together as humans shouldn’t be driven by money but by some form of moral framework.

There wasn’t agreement over what such a moral framework should be. Some delegates argued for forms of living and working together that ensured mutual support like trade unions, clubs, associations and communal forms of housing like the settlement movement.

For other delegates, this was about reviving the West’s roots in Christianity with its values and moral teachings. Leaving the question aside as to whether this would be desirable to all or even most people in our societies, I think it’s unrealistic to turn the tide of secularism that is inexorably sweeping through the West — or Europe at least, the US is a different matter.

Of course, Christian traditions are about more than religious spirituality alone. Fewer people believe in God and even fewer attend church services on a regular basis, but Christianity’s physical, cultural and moral remnants are still central to life in the West, concepts such as charity for instance. But with some of the delegates of the postliberalism conference explicitly arguing for a return of spirituality, for allowing a sense of the supernatural to infuse our societies once more, I couldn’t help being sceptical.

It was the second time this week that I’ve been thinking about what’s left of Christianity in Europe. The first was when I was out walking and found a beautiful but abandoned medieval church in the middle of nowhere.

The old church door creaked as it slowly fell shut behind me. I stood still, listening to its echo whispered back by the medieval stone walls. Though it was colder inside than out, I took off my hat before I moved with quiet reverence through remnants of a world that no longer exists.

At this church in Norfolk, there is an ornately carved box pew from which the local nobility once listened to sermons while ordinary folk sat in bench pews behind them. Next to it, a barely legible brass plaque on the ground says that “Heare under lieth George Duke Esquyre.” It wasn’t hard to picture George sitting right there with his wife and children.

I looked around for information and found a leaflet that informed me I was standing in a “redundant” church. Redundant? That means no longer needed and yet the guest book was filled with sentiments of awe. The last entry was from a couple of hikers visiting the same morning I did: “What a beautiful building!” I added my name to the list of admirers and stepped back out into the winter sunshine.

The visit left me in a pensive mood. As I got ready to continue my walk, I turned around one last time and looked at the little stone church. It appeared forlorn amid the windswept fields of East England. Once, there must have been a small but tight-knit rural community here, and the church was woven into its social fabric.

Now only the occasional walker finds their way to a place that provided community, solace and spirituality for centuries. But does that make the church redundant?