Scottish Catholic Observer

MY career trajectory in Christian protest has been long and colourful. It all started, I think, with my parents on an anti-abortion march when I was 9 or 10 years old. And it was at a time when the Church was much more eager to man the barricades about this continuing evil than it is today.

What is most vivid about that occasion was the kindness of strangers and a sense that we were engaging with something that was vital. As well as giving me an early sense of purpose about church social teaching it also provided me with something equally as valuable; that the freedom to protest against any injustice is a privilege that the British political system, for all its iniquities, upholds more than any other nation on earth.

I have marched against the nuclear bomb, unemployment and the poll tax. And though I was firm in my opposition to each I would be lying if I said that my eagerness to get on the red kagoule was not unconnected with a day off and the prospect of a right good bevvy at the end of it all. The miners too received my support in 1984, and so did the Nicaraguans, black South Africans and the benighted underclasses of Namibia. I may even furtively have joined a sneaky wee gay rights march in the forlorn hope that it may have put me in good standing with an ardently Marxist young female in my tutorial class.

On each occasion I was marching as a Christian first and a socialist second. If it was anti-establishment, anti-American or anti Conservative, I was your man. I may as well have kept one of Fr Ted’s placards announcing “Down with this sort of thing.” I was a serial protester and especially liked those marches that started at the top of somewhere and wound its way downwards. Uphill marches I avoided.

Sit-ins weren’t really as popular then as they are now, but I certainly like the look of the set-up at St Paul’s Cathedral in London. The purpose, protesting against the greed and dishonesty of bankers and the supine compliance of our governments in allowing such evil to thrive is a good one.

I even entertained myself with the thought that the Lord had given these people his blessing by ensuring that they would eventually end up outside His home owing to its proximity to the business heart of the capital.

How naïve was I? For it appears that, according to the leadership of the Church of England, the Lord wants nothing whatsoever to do with these protesters… at least certainly not until they have spruced up their appearance somewhat and start drinking tea, holding prayer meetings and acting in a, well… in a more civilised manner.

You can tell why a certain type of Christian would hold their nose at the thought of being challenged by this rag-tag band. Many of them probably don’t believe in organised religion and might even be conducting a same-sex relationship or some other equally iconoclastic domestic arrangement.

What is more, why should regular churchgoers, who have spent all morning endeavouring to look their best for the Saviour, be forced to have their senses assaulted by these tree-huggers and Buddhists when they have higher things on their minds?

What a missed opportunity for the Christian church; what a massive own goal. The Church of England attracts derision for bending this way and that with every passing whim of the world, scared of its own shadow.

Yet here was an opportunity to join with believers and non-believers alike and show solidarity for a protest that is at the very heart of the living Gospel. What an opportunity to evangelise and invite these unkempt children of God (whether they know it or not) to come away in and sample the treasures of the Lord in His Holy place.

Instead, the officers of the church huddled together in crisis meetings looking anxiously over their shoulders lest the barbarians actually started coming up the steps for a closer look. I am not a fan of those who say that the Christian churches must strive to be ‘relevant,’ but this was a classic, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to show the world that what we believe in has a cutting edge and can change lives. But we’ve blown it.

For the Catholic Church too, had an opportunity to express support for the protesters and to minister to them but let is slip through our fingers.

There are five Catholic churches within walking distance of the protesters who have been gathering in George Square, Glasgow including our recently renovated, smoked glass and chrome headquarters down by the Clyde. How wonderful it would have been to have Catholic clergy mingling with the protesters and offering them the sanctuary and the gifts of the Church.

A little more than a century ago, senior Catholic clerics rolled up their sleeves and gave succor to another tribe of rag-tag migrant people just off the boat from somewhere…