This post is a direct response to the Occupy protest that took place within the walls of St Paul's Cathedral today (I'm writing this on Sunday night). I wasn't going to write this, because the whole thing made me so angry, and I didn't want to post something I would later regret. I certainly don't want to hurt anyone, although I know it is inevitable that at least one person might not understand where I am coming from. Those of you who know me, or who read this blog with any regularity, know that I stay away from political discussion in this space - not because I do not care, but because I have always wanted this to be a place of peace. On this occasion however, I had such a visceral response to the story that it was impossible for me not to say something.
I am not going to proffer an opinion as to the "right-ness" or "wrong-ness" of what the Occupy movement stands for. What I do have a problem with is the way in which they have chosen to make their protest in this specific instance. For those of you who have not been near a television, newspaper or the internet in the last day or so, on the evening of Sunday the 14th of October, four women from the Occupy movement chained themselves to the pulpit in St. Paul's Cathedral. During Evensong. According to a statement from St. Paul's, the women interrupted the service, shouted a list of grievances and read from the Bible. The service then continued as the women remained chained to the pulpit, and they received communion, with the priests taking the service coming over to the pulpit to give it to them.
What offends me about this, what I think is wrong, is the fact that these protestors interrupted a service to make their point. Were the big banks present? No. Was much of the church hierarchy present? No. Who, then, was probably most affected by what was happening? I think that it was probably the members of the congregation. The people who are the church, the people who need the church. People who had come to worship, people who had come to praise, people who had come for solace, or for a million other reasons we cannot know.
There have been times in my life when the only thing that has stood between me and the abyss was the church. I have been at the end of my tether, despondent, not knowing where to turn - but I knew I could go to church, and find comfort in the presence of my God. I knew there was one place I could find peace, forgiveness, love, solace. There have been times when the noise in my head was almost too much to bear, when so much was happening in my life that was beyond awful. And always, always, I knew there was somewhere I could be safe. There was somewhere I could go to talk to God, or not talk to Him. To just be in His presence, to let the words and music of a service wash over me even if I could not participate because I was in so much pain.
So to think that I could have gone into a church, any church, looking for calm, peace, comfort, or whatever else it is a soul may be yearning for when they step into God's house, and I might have had it taken from me in the name of a political agenda, however worthy, makes me furious. It fills me with rage. It's not even about respect, although I do think there are more respectful ways to make a point. It is about forcibly taking something from someone when you have no idea what that time might have meant to them. Even thinking about it feels like a violation.
If, on any of those (numerous) times I had been sitting in church, trying to get something from the service or just trying to feel God with me, and this had happened to me, it could easily have pushed me over the edge. When the church, her worship and the people in it have been the only things giving me hope, I cannot begin to imagine what it would have been like to have that whipped out from under my feet when I most needed it. There have been moments when but for the church, but for certain good, kind, loving, giving people within her, but for the glimpse of peace vouchsafed me by an Evensong or a Eucharist, I might have ended my life.
So, I hope the protestors think about this the next time they are planning something like this. I hope they ask themselves whom they are really hurting. Is it Wall Street? Goldman Sachs? The church hierarchy? Or is it more likely to be, here and now, in this moment, someone who just needed the church to be there for them, to give them the strength to keep on living, just one more day.
Hello,
ReplyDeleteI'm not sure whether 'a list of grievances' is a good day to describe what was really read. It was, in my opinion, a balanced and quite beautiful statement, you can read it here - http://christianityuncut.wordpress.com/2012/10/14/statement-read-by-christianity-uncut-and-occupy-london-women-activists-st-pauls-cathedral-14-october-2012/
Were the banks there? No and yes. St Paul's Cathedral accepts money from HSBC and Goldman Sachs. Would Jesus take that money? This question is a faith issue, and a bloody important one. Faith communities have an important moral voice, and an essential one I think. Jesus threw the money changers out of the temple and it probably was chaotic and confusing at the time, but it is the story we pass on to show how angry Jesus was about economic inequality.
I'm really sad to hear that you are so upset about this protest, and I too have sat in church seeking solace, but there are more people than just those inside cathedral at evensong, many of whom were inspired by the action. There are people who have been turned away from Church, Christians have been dragged away from the cathedral in prayer while staff looked on. More importantly, there are people hurt by economic injustice while the church says so very little when our voice could be so so big, they are distressed too.
In terms of the people sitting in the Cathedral, lots of people went to thank the four women. The sermon continued, services continues, organ recitals continues. I don't understand your sentence about the priests having to go over and give communion, that kinda is their job in a service.
A part of the afternoon service was interrupted for a couple of minutes but services carried on throughout the day, people came and they worshiped. I know it is a blessing to feel stay safe in church (and the women did nothing threatening at all), for it to be something that we go to and feel comforted and thank God we can do that because oh how we need it sometimes. I want to be careful of staying too safe though, too offended by anything upsetting my comfort because that Jesus was an amazing guy and he shook up a lot of things and he got in fair bit a trouble for it too.
XX
Dear Anonymous,
ReplyDeleteFirst of all, I wish you had posted under your name. Secondly, When I described what the protestors read as "a list of grievances", I was quoting the BBC story and frankly using it as a form of shorthand. I felt ok about doing this because, as I hoped I made clear (but if not I will do so now), that my opinions have nothing to do with the political content of the protest.
I stand by your right to protest, but I also stand by my feeling that there are better ways to go about it. I would feel this way no matter what the content of the protest, whether it was for or against something I was personally particularly passionate about or not. My point is that a church should always, above all else, be a place of safety and of refuge. This, to me, is one of the core "goods" of the church, and I don't think there is anything worth trading that off for - but that is very much just me.
The sentence about the priest giving communion was just that, a descriptor, and was intended to contain no value judgment. I take it that was an accurate statement of what happened? I agree, it is their job, and it heartens me that they did it, because I believe that no matter what is going on, no one should be excluded from the Lord's table, including people who are disrupting communion, who disagree with the church on any matter etc.
Of course we are allowed to question the church, of course we should speak up in the face of injustice. Jesus did, as you very rightly pointed out. I'm not saying the protestors should have kept silent on the issue. I am saying they should not have disrupted a service to make their point.
It is wonderful that there were people at Evensong who came up to you and thanked you, supported you etc. My concern is for the one person who might not have been in that place, who could have been adversely affected by what happened. I know, we don't know that there was such a person there yesterday; but then again, we don't know that there wasn't. And if having the tranquility of Evensong taken away, if having Evensong politicised made even one person feel unsafe, or unable to find peace, or whatever else they were feeling, that is one person too many.
There is "staying safe", and I understand the need to make an impact in order to make a point. I do think that especially when one is speaking out on such an important issue, one has a duty to think very hard before one acts.
I will say again, this has NOTHING to do with the political agenda on the table, and you will notice that I made a point of not getting drawn into that discussion. Not because I don't think it matters, but because that is not the point, right here and now, of this piece. It's not about the women being "threatening", it's about their disruption of a sacred time that a lot of people need.
I think that need, the need of the person just trying to get through the day, trumps whatever political agenda any of us might have. So, protest outside the church by all means. Protest within it, having giving people some warning so they could decide if they wanted to be part of it, however indirectly (actually I need to think this one through). But don't make the unilateral decision to enter a place of worship, at a time of worship, and politicise it, regardless of the human cost. If no one got hurt yesterday, that is a blessing. The point is, we don't know, do we?
Martha
I can totally see where you're coming from in terms of church being a refuge. It's a safe place for so many people and rightly so - what could be more comforting than knowing that you're always welcome in God's house? But I'm just not sure that the protest disrupted much - it was, after all, peaceful; the ladies were even wearing white as a visual symbol of this.
ReplyDeleteI do think, though, that the church isn't just there as a safe, quiet, protected space. Christians have a responsibility to make sure that the people who are making decisions on our behalf are speaking for us, having listened to us. I feel that, had I been feeling in need of support and strength, that seeing these people putting their necks on the line to give people a voice, I might have felt empowered and as though someone did give a damn about me and my concerns. I wouldn't like to pretend that I've been in a situation where I'd have been at risk if I'd felt unable to pray - I've been lucky! - but, personally, I don't see this as a thing which would make someone feel less cared for rather than more?
Having said that, I can imagine your fear for the people who might have been there at points as critical to them as you have described from your own experience. Just recently, I've imagined with terror how things would have been if they'd happened at certainn points in my life rather than at a time when I felt more able to stand up and hold it together against something or someone.
I just think that the action was peaceful and respectful and informed - most of them were Christians, half of them Anglicans. Not to mention, the positions some of them hold within Christian organisations - representing a group and being their spokesperson puts even more pressure on someone to think about what they're doing and how it might look.
Didn't the services carry on as usual? I think this says a lot for how unthreatened the ladies made people feel. As well as their fantastic sermon, they stayed there quietly talking to people, showing how much they deserve a decent dialogue withe the Dean. Business was able to continue as usual - and not in the British, stiff upper lip, let's pretend nothing's happening, way - but in the way afforded by people calmly pointing out something in the last possible way available to them.