Is England (Still) a Christian Country?
Some reflections by Ian Wallis
The recent London-based ‘Unite the Kingdom’ rally on 13 September convened by Stephen Yaxley-Lennon (aka Tommy Robinson) and attended by well over 100,000 people elicited a vociferous and varied response. Among the critics are church leaders who object, as they see it, to the hijacking of Christianity to champion causes contrary to Christian profession – many protestors carried or wore crosses, displayed biblical verses, such as ‘Jesus is Lord,’ sang Christian hymns and recited the Lord’s Prayer. Although some speakers advocated a more tolerant attitude towards asylum seekers and members of other religions, the tenor of the rally was alarmist. England is a Christian country. It is in mortal danger of being swamped by illegal immigrants and conquered by alien ideologies. It is time for Christians of all persuasions to make a stand.
Apparently, many of those who were brandishing Christian identifiers readily admitted that they were not regular church attenders nor were they practising Christians. One assumes that they counted themselves among a growing number of ‘cultural Christians’ – a category recently embraced by the strident atheist Richard Dawkins in an interview aired on London based radio station LBC on Easter Sunday. Cultural Christians are often atheists or agnostics who appreciate some of the fruits of Christian belief permeating the English way of life. What are we to make of all this? Let me offer a few preliminary considerations.
Firstly, there is nothing new here. In fact, the appropriation of Christianity to serve political goals reaches back to the much-contested ‘conversion’ of Emperor Constantine after emerging victorious over his rival, Maxentius, to take control of the western Roman Empire at the Battle of Milvian Bridge in 312 CE. According to the ecclesiastical historian Eusebius, Constantine and his soldiers experienced a vision of a cross in the sky on the eve of the battle, bearing the inscription In hoc signo vinces – ‘In this sign, conquer’ (Life of Constantine, I.26–32). Another ancient source claims that Constantine was instructed in a dream to inscribe the Chi-Rho symbol on his soldiers’ shields to secure victory (Lactantius, On the Deaths of the Persecutors, 44). Following this ‘divinely-facilitated’ military success and consolidation of power, Constantine both legalised and privileged Christianity (Edict of Milan, 313 CE), while a successor, Theodosius I, determined that Nicene ‘orthodox’ Christianity would be the official religion of the Roman Empire with heretical forms condemned along with other religious cults (Edict of Thessalonica, 380 CE).
In fact, historically-speaking, there is no shortage of cases of Christianity being ‘adopted’ to promote political goals contrary to Christian teaching and practice. Obvious examples include the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, European Colonialism, the Slave Trade, Apartheid, Christian Nationalism in Nazi Germany and, more recently, in Russia and the US. Nor should we overlook Henry VIII who declared himself Supreme Head of the Church England after Pope Clement VII refused to annul his marriage to Catherine of Aragon, thereby vesting divine legitimacy in his reign which was, in certain respects, far from Christian in character.
Secondly, the ‘Unite the Kingdom’ rally raises two interconnected questions. How is it that England has become so diverse, embracing many different cultures, ethnicities, ideologies and religions? And, why is it that atheists and agnostics have felt the need to remind us of the perils of forgetting our Christian roots? These questions are related at least in the sense that the answer to the former is supplied by the latter. England didn’t accidentally become so diverse; rather, the conditions were in place for it to be possible in a way that would be inconceivable in, to offer an extreme example, modern day Afghanistan. These conditions consist of both hard and soft constituents, including systems of law and justice, democratic governance and a free press, universal access to education, welfare and healthcare, but also qualities and values such as tolerance and consideration, service and public mindedness, compassion and responsibility. Although none of these are exclusive to Christianity, within English history, Christianity has supplied the rationale for their development and a value-giving framework for their pursuit. And one of the issues raised by the rally is what would happen to English diversity if our roots in Christianity were severed and replaced by a different ideological driver, such as secularism or Islam. Whatever we think of the proceedings of 13 September, this merits serious consideration.
But how can England continue to be Christian when the majority of its citizens do not identify accordingly? This objection initially sounds convincing and has some force, but not as much as many proponents claim because it fails to distinguish between two key factors, national constitution and individual opportunity. Let me offer a comparable scenario to clarify this distinction. Currently, England is constitutionally a democracy in which citizens of a certain age are afforded the opportunity to influence which political party should govern over them. Imagine a General Election in which only 10% of the electorate exercised that right. If that was to happen, would England have ceased to be democracy? Clearly not, because our democratic constitution secures the opportunity to vote, even when the majority of the electorate declines to do so. In fact, even if no one voted, England would remain a democracy and would only cease to be one if there was constitutional change, say to a republic, oligarchy, theocracy or dictatorship. Would any of these improve individual opportunity? I doubt it.
It is in this sense, then, that England remains Christian and would continue to do so even if no one attended church. It is constitutionally Christian as our Christian monarchy affirms, with parliament governing under God at the will of the people who benefit from the opportunities such constitutional arrangements afford, including the freedom not to practise Christianity or any other religion for that matter. I wonder how many alternative constitutions would extend such liberties to its citizens?
Thirdly, although a strong case can be made that England remains constitutionally a Christian country, it does not follow from this either that all English citizens must be practising Christians or that only English citizens can be Christian. Why? Because, fundamentally, Christianity is non-tribal. This was hammered out in the early decades, especially by the apostle Paul whose missionary initiatives demonstrated that Jesus was good news not only for Jews like himself, but especially for non-Jews. As a consequence, it soon emerged that Christian identity transcended all conventional categories of ethnicity, nationality, citizenship, gender, class, status and so forth to reach, potentially, all of humanity. I say ‘potentially’ because, whilst the graciousness of God embodied in Jesus is good news for all and offered freely to everyone, not everyone chooses to embrace this new identity and inhabit it through faith, where faith is essentially relational, rather than propositional: a trusting openness to God and living in the light of God’s gracious and reconciling presence embodied in Jesus Christ. And the ecclesial ritual by which this new identity is embraced has always been baptism, affirming that no one is born a Christian and everyone can become one. You may belong to a family of Christians, you may be a citizen of a Christian country, but you only become a Christian through baptism. Equally, you may belong to a Muslim family and grow up within a Muslim country and yet none of this prevents you choosing to become a Christian.
Following on from all this and thinking back to the ‘Unite the Kingdom’ rally, what many practising Christians found unacceptable was the insinuation, if not demand, that belonging to a constitutionally Christian country like England required all its citizens to be Christian, at least in a cultural sense. As I hope we have shown, this is a non sequitur. Equally objectionable was claiming to defend England’s Christian heritage, adopting its symbols and rhetoric, while acting and speaking in ways that are fundamentally incompatible with Christian teaching and practice. In particular, the othering of asylum seekers and members of different religious communities. Again, as we have indicated, there is no Christian in-group to include or exclude anyone, because Christian identity is a divine gift not a right, acquisition or reward.
Finally (for now), my understanding of the Christian Way requires us to be far more hospitable to those seeking to escape from oppressive regimes or life-threatening natural disaster than the ‘Unite the Kingdom’ rally demanded. However, in the face of a need that is likely to increase in a politically volatile international environment and as climate change continues to shrink the global landmass capable of sustaining human habitation or growing sustainable food, we would do well to heed the moral challenge framed in the Lifeboat Dilemma. In this thought experiment, consider a sinking ship. A number of lifeboats were successfully released before the vessel went down, but not sufficient for all the survivors. Privileged passengers found themselves onboard at the time of launch, while those who were physically fit were able to swiftly swim to a lifeboat and drag themselves out of the sea. Before long, the lifeboats were full and in danger of capsizing. What should those on board the lifeboats do? Should they rescue those in the sea, risking the lives of everyone? Should they throw overboard anyone, say, over 60 to make space for younger survivors? Should they prevent those still in the water from climbing on board a lifeboat in order to preserve the lives of those fortunate enough to have secured a place?
The Lifeboat Dilemma brings into focus the challenge that must be addressed by those responsible for the distribution of limited resources. And here it is worth acknowledging that reaching the limits when it comes to resources is, at some point, inevitable. Even if Theresa May’s magic money tree did exist and finance was infinite (itself, an impossibility), it could only be translated into assets or services or skills or energy or logistics at a certain rate.
In the case of the current immigration situation in England, the moral calculus is complex. For one thing, the Lifeboat Dilemma is only too apt an analogy with significant numbers of asylum seekers drowning as they attempt to cross the Channel in woefully inadequate vessels. Repeated governments have recognised this tragic loss of life and tried to dismantle the gangs supplying the wherewithal to make the crossing. However, this undertaking, even if it was possible, would do nothing to reduce the numbers seeking to come to the UK. In fact, a more effective way to reduce future cross-Channel fatalities may well be to allow those seeking asylum to register their claim outside of the UK or, alternativey, to issue visas enabling them to enter the country legally.
Yet the moral imperative in relation to immigration does not stop here. Self-evidently, the claim of those fleeing persecution or oppression is real, but is it absolute or must limits be set? In a democracy, the final arbiter of these questions is the electorate. And, if the ‘Unite the Kingdom’ rally is any guide, a significant proportion of the voting public is concerned about the impact of current levels of migration upon limited resources such as housing, education, healthcare and welfare, as well as upon national demography and community cohesion. And, yes, any elected government also has a moral responsibility to supply these provisions for its own citizens – a responsibility many would claim takes priority.
The moral calculus is, indeed, complex; but we are unlikely to live up to our Christian heritage so long as asylum seekers are viewed as an existential threat, rather than as human beings seeking security and a decent quality of life – the same aspirations that most of us would pursue should the tables be turned. There will always be limits to how many can be accommodated successfully, but surely we should err on the side of generosity.
Revd Dr Ian Wallis, Priest Theologian at St Mark's Broomhill & Broomhall.
Photo by balesstudio on Unsplash