The thought that the church is too respectable has crossed my mind more than once. Jesus seemed unconcerned about risking his reputation, as he did not hesitate to speak and act in ways that outraged the respectable people of his day. A good many of the saints cared nothing for their reputations. In fact, a number of the saints would likely be labeled mentally ill today. I remember reading the first biography of St Francis of Assisi as an adult in Butler's Lives of the Saints, and I thought, "Francis was insane!" (Butler's version of the saint's life would not be my first recommendation. I liked Julian Green's God's Fool.)"Reputational risk" was a phrase often used at St Paul'sCathedral, and in the City generally, and one that a number of us especially disliked. What would the man who was attacked for hanging out with prostitutes and tax-collectors have made of "reputational risk"?
Surely he would have had no place for it. Indeed, he was the stone that the builders rejected, and yet became the cornerstone. So how is it that the Church built in his name has become so concerned with its own reputation? In a sense, if the Church does not have a bad reputation - or, perhaps better still, if it were indifferent to the fact that it might - it would not be doing its job properly.
Giles recently visited the US to give a speech, and he says:
I was invited to preach in the United States recently, and I suddenly realised how difficult it must be to be a Christian in a culture that continually applauds you for being one. I guess it might be a bit like Pavlov's dog: soon you might begin to think that the applause and the Christianity were connected.Giles didn't stay long enough to know what it's like for the "heretics" amongst us, who seldom hear applause from unbelievers, nor from certain of our Christian brothers and sisters, some of whom declare us not to be Christians at all.
Anyway, I urge you to read Giles' entire column in the Church Times. It's not long, and it's good.
