Monday, April 12, 2010

A. N. WILSON - A VOICE FROM THE PAST

From the Telegraph in June of 2003, when Jeffery John had been chosen as bishop-elect of Reading in England, but before he was pressed to step down by his good friend, Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams, comes this charming and quite moving piece by the writer, A. N. Wilson.

The Bishop Elect of Reading, the Revd Jeffrey John, has attracted a lot of notice, particularly in this newspaper. The reason is that he has been brave enough to admit that he is a homosexual. He lives with his friend, but tells us that he will in future be celibate.

I was asked recently whether I had been at the Oxford theological college St Stephen's House at the same time as he was.

As it happens, I think I'm a bit older than Dr John. In the mists of time, I remember meeting him, and I think he was chaplain of Magdalen College, Oxford. He asked me to give a talk to the undergraduates, and I seem to recollect a fairly earnest evening discussing religion and literature. He is certainly not the wild gay revolutionary depicted in the media.
....

At Staggers (as St Stephen's was known), they gave most of the students "names in religion". This meant that the young men called one another by girls' names. Young homosexuals of my acquaintance aren't camp in this way any more. That whole Colony Room, Francis Bacon tradition of calling one another a silly bitch has rather gone out, to be replaced by earnestness of one kind or another.

The quoted text does not at all do justice to Wilson's entire column, which is titled, "Tawdry Audrey, Bobo, Maud, Pearl . . . all better men than I".

If you recall, in my post on Bishop Barry Morgan's Easter sermon, the bishop quotes Wilson. Wilson grew up in the faith, grew out of the faith, and later returned to the faith.

Thanks to Lapin for the link to Wilson's piece.

Cathy sent me the link to the lovely story of Wilson's return to the faith in the New Statesman in April of 2009.

Here's a snippet from Wilson's story, which includes a reference to Bonhoeffer:

I haven't mentioned morality, but one thing that finally put the tin hat on any aspirations to be an unbeliever was writing a book about the Wagner family and Nazi Germany, and realising how utterly incoherent were Hitler's neo-Darwinian ravings, and how potent was the opposition, much of it from Christians; paid for, not with clear intellectual victory, but in blood. Read Pastor Bonhoeffer's book Ethics, and ask yourself what sort of mad world is created by those who think that ethics are a purely human construct. Think of Bonhoeffer's serenity before he was hanged, even though he was in love and had everything to look forward to.

5 comments:

  1. when I sent the link I didn't actually reread the piece about Wilson's return to the faith, but I have done so now and felt over again that it is a lovely article and he says what he means so well.

    When I think about atheist friends, including my father, they seem to me like people who have no ear for music, or who have never been in love. It is not that (as they believe) they have rumbled the tremendous fraud of religion - prophets do that in every generation. Rather, these unbelievers are simply missing out on something that is not difficult to grasp. Perhaps it is too obvious to understand; obvious, as lovers feel it was obvious that they should have come together, or obvious as the final resolution of a fugue.

    Exactly.

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  2. Wilson sure knows how to say what he has to say!

    That "Tawdrey Audrey" article brought tears to my eyes when I first read it. So poignant, so true!

    I'm very glad to hear A.N. has returned to / with an adult faith. He and all of us will be all the better for it....

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  3. Lapin, called to my attention the words in bold text in the paragraph below:

    As often happens when I meet one of my fellow-collegians, I momentarily forget his real name. One finds oneself going into a room and meeting an archdeacon, and becoming completely tongue-tied. One can hardly say: "Hello, Gladys." All one can remember, when seeing the portly, distinguished form of some Anglican cleric, is an evening that began with Solemn Benediction and clouds of incense, followed by a boozy dinner, followed, probably, by disco dancing in a gay club.

    Hello, Gladys.

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  4. I also enjoy the description of "Staggers" in the early 70's as a "Firbankian madhouse", Mimi, though some familiarity with the high-camp writing of the 1920's novelist Ronald Firbank is needed to appreciate it.

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  5. I use my imagination, Lapin. I've read other other English writers from the 20s.

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