The Day I Realised I Wasn't a Catholic!

I was raised in a Catholic family and attended RC schools until I was 18. Three of my Grandparents were Irish who moved to Bradford in the north of England before WW1, but I never knew them because they had all died before I was born. So to say that I come from an Irish Catholic family is a bit of a stretch because we had no links with the old country, and if asked I would have said I was from Yorkshire. In fact the only Grandparent I did know was a true Yorkshireman. Bradford was a boom town in the 19th Century and attracted Irish people looking for work. My Irish Grandfather, Patrick, had several brothers who emigrated to the USA. Bradford obviously had its attractions, with a sizeable population of Irish descent, even having its own soccer team, Bradford Park Avenue with its Celtic-like strip. Bradford City Football Club being its protestant counterpart.

If my ties to Ireland were tenuous my connection to the RC church was little better - I did the stuff required by the Catholic school system but had no personal attachment or sense of belonging. At primary school it was expected that all the lads would serve as altar boys in the parish church on a Sunday. I refused point blank, not that I was making any courageous sort of 'statement' by it, I just felt it looked daft! I gathered later that the Head-Sister (we were taught by nuns) spoke to my parents about this; 'doesn't he realise what an honour it is?!' In fairness to my parents, who were regular church-goers, they never pressed the issue and when I was 13 they allowed me to decide if I still wanted to go to church. I did not.

Despite going through a 'raving atheist' phase in my teens, in one respect being Catholic did remain with me. In the late 1960's when I was 10 or 11 years old 'The Troubles' started in Northern Ireland and I vividly recall the parish priest coming to our house and speaking to my mother about the possibility of the violence spilling over to the UK mainland. My mother was in genuine fear and even though I didn't understand all that was said, being of a sensitive nature too I registered that sense of foreboding. Occasionally school would finish early and I recall that we would be told to go home directly when rumours circulated that gangs were planning to target Catholic kids - often in response to some IRA bomb outrage. Looking back now it may seem far-fetched that 'The Troubles' should affect us but the fear was genuine enough at the time, even if it never came to anything.

When I was 17 I started attending an Evangelical church and it grieved me that some people I knew felt a sense of betrayal far more acutely then than when I had ceased to attend Mass.

Later when I left school, in 1976, my first job was working in the Criminal Litigation department of a firm of solicitors in Bradford. The senior partner was an amiable gent called Desmond Joyce who, as this story will go on to relate, was a pillar of the Irish Catholic community, a point I had completely failed to register. One day I took a phone call for Mr Joyce from his golf partner arranging a game, I wrote down his name phonetically having asked him to repeat it a couple of times. Later I passed on the message to the Senior Partner, 'an Italian bloke called for you' I said. He looked mystified, slowly I read out the name, 'a Signor Roncelli'. Mr Joyce looked at me in despair, 'that should be Monsignor Ron Kelly, stupid boy!'
That was the day I realised that I really wasn't a Catholic!

"The Handmaid's Tale" by Margaret Atwood.

As soon as I started reading this it immediately reminded me of an earlier novel by Robert Heinlein called "Revolt 2100", the basic plot is the same; a theocratic regime takes over the USA. Even some of the key characters such as "The Commander" in THT is similar to "The Prophet" in R2100, "The Handmaid" in THT has a similar role the "The Virgin" in R2100 (it is a purely honorific title of course!) Neither story is great literature but "The Handmaid's Tale" has been praised out of all proportion to its merit. I can only think that this is because it is ideologically 'right on'. Personally I found the plot implausible, but that may reflect the author's paranoid worldview. By all accounts this was written as a serious warning about the threat Christian Fundamentalism poses to democracy; which has to be either paranoia or a cynical attempt to use fear to manipulate the reader. What is certain is that no Christian I know of would feel comfortable with the Republic of Gilead and its activities. I don't think the plot has been well thought through, there are several internal contradictions - a puritanical regime forcing someone to work in a brothel? It doesn't sound likely. The book is a bit of a blunt instrument if it is genuinely meant to make a serious point. But then again I don't believe the polemic is aimed at anyone with a background knowledge of the Bible - it is aimed to confirm the prejudices of the ignorant.

Human, Humane, Humanity.

Incomprehensible actions comfortingly described as "inhuman" turn out, on reflection, to be all too human.

The Injustice of Liberalism.

This morning I was listening to BBC Radio 4's "Start the Week" hosted by Andrew Marr discussing national identity. One of his guests was Maajid Nawaz who used to be a leading figure within an Islamist group called Hizb ut-Tahrir. The BBC website says of him 'from Islamist extremist to champion of democracy' and describes how he became radicalised as a young man by the racism he personally faced in the UK and then by the Bosnian conflict of the 1990's.

The discussion was largely insightful and helpful but hit a sour note when Maajid was presented with a leading question about whether Islamic Extremism was a response to the rise of  "Christian Evangelism" (sic). [The terms in which the question was couched betrayed a shameful ignorance of the meaning of the words employed!] Maajid concurred with the view expressed by one of the other panellists.

How convenient. So the line being presented on national radio is that Islamic Extremism is ultimately the responsibility of Christians. In this meta-narrative the secular, liberal, humanist dumps the responsibility for terrorism into the laps of an innocent community because they want to believe the illusion that no-one could possibly take issue with the virtues they feel they alone represent. The meta-narrative they want to impart to the listener is that all conflict is fuelled by "others" and if only they would conform to the secular, liberal, humanist position the world would be a happier place. It is that claim to a 'helicopter perspective' and moral superiority which jars.

By condemning the innocent with the guilty this sort of Liberalism discredits itself - it is not concerned about justice, it is more concerned about pushing a particular ideological interpretation of the world. And that ideological interpretation places a Liberal elite as the sole moral judge. The word 'liberal' is one we all aspire to; to be open, caring, generous etc are wonderful things but these virtues are not the exclusive preserve of those who parade themselves as 'Liberal'. In fact it is my contention that the Liberal is not liberal as this morning's discussion intimated. Someone who is liberal would seek to get their facts straight first, nor would they rush to judgement, nor would they issue a blanket condemnation by association. However a Liberal would, so it seems, happily do all these things.

What do people mean by 'the rise of Christian Evangelism'? If they mean 'the Christian Right' is it really fair to attribute Islamic terrorism to this? Surely an Islamist is just as likely to take offence at secular humanism and its values as to Christianity! This notion that Christian Evangelism and islamic Extremism are two sides of the same coin is a quack diagnosis clutched at by fearful individuals who desperately want a simple explanation of the world they find themselves in. Unfortunately in the process they condemn the innocent with the guilty.