A Catholic Point of View

Over the years I have been to a few Catholic churches. One on holiday in Portugal, for a meeting so packed that I had to stand outside the church itself because the congregation was literally spilling out of the church. Another time when I was visiting a relative in Ireland and I went to the local Catholic church, curious to see what it was like – it was very much like a local community hub. I’ve been to the Vatican, but at the time I wasn’t a believer and was more interested in the array of often esoteric items being sold in the street leading up to the Vatican.

If the figures are to be believed, then it seems that many new Christians are becoming Catholic. I remember writing a report on how believers were portrayed in film and I found that most of the negative stereotypes concerned Catholic fictional characters, especially priests. Despite the child abuse scandals (which have got to be the worst sins that people from within both Catholicism and Protestantism have ever done), there seems to be something about the Catholic church which attracts many. Possibly it may be the claim that it is the true Church, with the legitimate successor to the first Pope, St Peter. But the Orthodox Church also claims to be the true, original church, so it can get pretty confusing. Especially when you are Protestant (which has absolutely no evidence of being orthodox when it all comes down to it (and has splintered into many groups)).

There is still a lot of misunderstanding and discrimination between some Protestants and Catholics, further evidence of our current lack of unity. For example, they don’t usually pray TO Mary and the saints. They ask Mary and the saints to pray for them in the same way that you might ask a church leader to pray for you. Because they believe that death is not strong enough to block prayers. Yes, they do some things wrong, but they also do a lot right and are as Christian as any other church which holds to the creed.

Archbishop Mark O’Toole of Cardiff prayed in his homily on the 2nd December 2024:

“Help us to come to you as Kyrios, as Lord, as the one who is the source of our joy, of our energy and our life. And to ‘Go’ forth in your name, not go ‘from you’ but to go forward in the power and strength of your presence to those who do not know you, who have not had the beauty of an encounter with you.  To go to those who are furthest away. 

Lord, help us to do this in communion with one another, walking together, assisting each one to be able to participate more profoundly and deeply, so that all may have their voice and their part in bringing others to you.  This is our Mission.”

And about the quiet revival he went on to say that it was being led by young men and laypeople.

Beth Przybylska, strategic project director at the church's Catholic Youth Ministry Federation told OSV News:

"If a mass revival occurs, I'm sure it will find great leadership. But for now, with local priests and parishes preoccupied with their own daily hardships, it's up to youth groups like ours to keep a wider momentum going."

There is speculation that young people are attracted to the traditions and ritual within many Catholic churches. And let’s face it – if you have suddenly become a believer, it is a logical choice to join the largest, least fragmented church in the world… If only just to be safe with ‘you know who’.

The Pandemic (continued)

 

Whether or not the pandemic was the catalyst for what seems to be an increasingly likely ‘quiet revival’ remains a moot point.

2021 (From my diary)

‘Is there a revival now?

It’s supposed to be defined in history as having common elements - people becoming believers, even the occasional miracle. Crime decreasing etc... What has happened before can happen again (for good as well as bad). Many believers seem to hope for a worldwide revival - but that has never happened before. It isn't impossible, I suppose. But all of the many books written about revival are lacking, because not a single person knows how to actually start one. Usually revivals start with the preachers, the Christian leaders. Just a few of them. Some say that before any genuine revival, things get really bad. The consensus is that prayer is hugely important. Then everyone has to decide whether they will help or hinder it.

If this, now, is a revival, I'm thinking we have been hugely fobbed off. But it is in God's gift and timing. How can people repent without a revival? And how is there a revival without people repenting? It is Catch 22. It is entirely in God's hands. The only thing we can do is cry out to him. To soften our hard hearts.’

 

Notably, if a revival happens, afterwards, many of the leaders are then neglected, after being used. Like Oskar Schindler was after saving many people. Evan Roberts, a significant leader of the Welsh revival also received the same treatment; despite everything he did. He was left to stew (or perhaps marinate) in his old age.

Similarly, when a revival happens there is almost always opposition from both outside and inside the church. In Birmingham, The Church of England drowned out the preaching of the Wesleys on the streets with church bells. That is illustrative of the entire antagonism which is ongoing towards any kind of awakening, even within the Church.

But the benefits of a revival are true enough. Historically it’s said that the entire atmosphere changes. There are huge numbers of people who begin to support charities and causes which have not received help or support before. In that sense it is the cause of causes - if a revival happens then more people support existing causes. It is said that people become more loving. There is not usually a push for governmental power. It isn't about that kind of power. It’s the power of God. Domestic violence, violent crime, drug use, all of these things historically decrease in revivals (before Government takes credit for that). There’s a positive aspect because people are said to be more conscientious and more loving. But the crime rates are not currently decreasing according to the stats. The pandemic didn’t result in a worldwide revival.

The worst of all worlds.

The only thing that can reach us after all this time is God’s love. It’s a cliché but true love never goes out of fashion. In an AI age where so many of us who are (slightly) older can feel left behind, let that be a comfort.

Revivalists do have a vision. It is not quite the same as the vision of the politicians, which tends to be about maintaining the status quo. The vision of revivalists is that this country will act as a resource to other countries and that the people within it will thrive rather than simply survive. And that the people within this country will live life to the full and prepare things for the future. That there would be hope for all of us and for the children.

The trouble is that opponents of awakenings often take their stances because of miscommunication and misunderstanding. But also, sometimes out of spite and fears of resulting losses in trade and employment.

 

At the start of Autumn in 2021 I saw the small-town street preachers again. They hadn’t changed. They prayed in the middle of the street. They carried boards reading ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery’ and ‘Babies are murdered here’. Whenever anyone approached them, people were sent away shaking their heads. The last I heard from them was when they were packing up and the particularly nasty street preacher said ‘Get away from us.’ They hadn’t changed at all. I did not confront them this time, I just witnessed.

 

August 15th August 2022. (Diary. Heaven knows what day of lockdown.)

‘Still no sign of the promised revival. Not that God had made the promise, but you would think that hundreds of thousands of believers in the UK praying for the same thing might persuade him a little. ‘Ask and you shall receive’ and all that.’

 

I spoke with my ex-parish vicar, Richard, on what he thought about revival.

“What do you mean,” he asked back, “about historical revival or revival now?”

“Either.” I replied.

He went on to talk about some of the historic revivals in the past.

“So, it could happen again?”

He seemed to agree and talked about how he believed that any modern-day revival would be different to the revivals of the past. I asked him if the Church of England was prepared for such an event. He skirted around the issue, but didn’t say ‘no’.

He spoke about how many Christians were already active in areas such as climate change.

And then I asked: “Do you think there is a way of uniting liberal and conservative Christians?”

“Yes,” he replied. “Because there is common ground between the two.”

“Like the creed?”

“Yes.”

Up and down the country there are an array of perspectives among Christian leaders, even within denominations. But it was refreshing to hear from one who seemed reasonably open minded to the possibility, even if it could mean a lot more work for him.

 

But at this point in time, the divisions between liberal and conservative Christians showed no sign of abating, even though we largely lost the freedom to go to physical churches. If believers are united in the communion service and affirming the creed (the common statement of faith shared by all denominations) together, we still show no sign of that unity when it comes to online communication. The UK church may have largely been learning online skills because of the pandemic, but we were still as divided as ever. And isolated. 'Close every door to me (and let’s have a flame war).'

Some even found the fringe issues more important than the core issues of the creed and the command to love. This was not just about views on LGBT+ issues. It encompassed views on climate change and even political preferences. Many wanted to make these core issues. Shibboleths. But the fact was that within both the Church of England and other denominations in Britain and worldwide, these were only core issues insomuch that those with opinions on either side wanted to make them core issues. I was to encounter a few believers who wouldn’t even accept the creed. They said that this was an added document and was extra-Biblical, but those with this view were very much in the minority. Although the subject of revival, I had to admit, was also not in the creed. It was an issue which an individual could have any kind of view on, even though it encompassed the words of the Lord’s prayer – namely, ‘Your Kingdom come…’ There was no mention of believing in revival in the Nicene or Apostles Creed. What there was mention of was believing in God and believing that Jesus had been crucified and resurrected, as the gospels relate. And in believing in invisible things.

I simply had to accept the fact that the most adamant, vocal opponents of revival, if they were Christian, could not be said to be non-Christian, because the creed only hinted at the idea of revival. And the same with the most conservative right-wing believers. But revival, by necessity, is entirely concerned with the gospel. You couldn’t really have a revival which didn’t focus on the basic gospel message of God being loving and giving his only son for you and I and anyone else who believes. The only condition being that of belief in Jesus according to the gospels. But maybe, I too, was trying to make all this a core issue?

And how could I continue to make something so interesting, so incredibly boring and religious, especially when there was effectively a plague?

The pandemic ended and we did get the worst of all worlds. One pandemic. A lot of death. And no revival. Good news was hard to find. And partly because of the mainstream media agenda setting. I remember asking one editor just how he knew where to place a story in news emphasis. He replied: “You just get a feel for it.” But maybe he should have said something like: “You just copy what all the other broadcasters and newspapers are doing.” 

That’s slightly disingenuous, but not that far from the truth.

The Pandemic in the UK

2020 Day 71 of first lockdown (from my diary)

‘The contemporary Christian prophets had predicted that Brexit would result in revival. Yet there is still no revival. After Brexit was decided I’d expected the prophets (who are a kind of obscure interest to a few) to state that the LORD (note the capital letters they often use) would be pleased about the Brexit decision. None of that happened. Not a single one gave a message to say that God is pleased with the country’s actions. They are all on to the next thing and back to telling people to repent. It is disheartening. It is downright depressing. What is the point of worshipping a God who cannot be pleased? And now look what has happened.’

The coronavirus happened. Worldwide.

If the prophets had predicted it then they had been oblique. The most misleading prophecies, I guess, were those which said that everything would just get better and better.

There are some who say that the surge in interest in Christianity in the West and Europe is because of the pandemic. But if that is the case – why hasn’t it happened worldwide?

I remember the pandemic beginning because I had the second worst night of my life in a kind of feverish, hallucinating state. I had left the radio on and in the morning, after a hellish night, the news began to talk of an ‘infection’. It was announced by the World Health Organisation. And this announcement prompted the biggest world crisis I have ever seen. There is always a crisis, but most outward crises do not influence day to day life quite as much as this one. Whatever your views on the origins and subsequent reaction to the pandemic, it caused major disruption for so many. For me it was all abysmal.

Once again Christians were saying that the crisis would lead to a humbling and that from that humbling there could be a revival. But I wondered how. And I wondered why the humbling was necessary. Historically, was this how it had always had to happen? If nothing is impossible with God then why was the ‘humbling’ necessary? Because the danger was that a lot of people would die and we would still get no revival. The worst of all possible worlds. Reports began to say that people really were falling to their knees and praying more than ever for help. But still no revival.

Unless I had missed something, unless I simply did not see it, there was no awakening. I thought back to when I first began witnessing and seeking evidence for it, back to when I examined those library books. Was I being too pessimistic? The voices varied. There were Jeremiahs around, both believers and non-believers, and I always took notice of them. There were others who continued to claim that good things were just around the corner. There were some prophets who frankly seemed… dodgy.

I didn’t just read the latest prophecies. If there was something important, or obviously misleading, I would try to question. Mostly I was ignored. It was a minefield anyway. Occasionally there would be a tweeted reply. One popular prophet memorably prophesied at the start of the crisis that the LORD was telling everyone to take communion together every day. I felt it misleading because of the virus. The prophesies were a little bit like the childhood game ‘Simon says…’ in which you have to discern what is a true message and what is not.

I spoke with a close non-Christian friend about revival again and he, exasperated, said, ‘It doesn’t matter what you think!’. Because he understood that if it did happen then there would be huge changes on a personal and societal level. I was the only writer writing about the socio-economic effects of a revival in the UK. That people would lose jobs. That was not a deal-breaker for me. The deal-breaker was if people would die.

I spoke briefly to God about it all. I wrote a blog. But I found that no matter how much I racked my brains, I simply had no agency to bring it about. Always, the best answer seemed to be that the only way to bring it about was through repentance and prayer. And repentance in the sense of loving others more rather than simply trying to stop sinning. Or at the very least simply giving God the apology in prayer some of us think he owes us (and is unlikely to ever give us).


Later from my diary

‘As I write, we seem to be slowly coming out of the crisis. The Government has been a nightmare, apart from furlough. It has felt, to me, like the end of the world. Almost as if an army of demons are persuaded that these are the last of the last days. But how would they know? Even Christ seemed to blindside himself to the date. The prophets have been largely unanimous in saying that it’s not the end of the world. After all, certain other things are supposed to happen first. The Jerusalem temple being rebuilt and a handful of other things. More than believers say. But as I write I’m fed up and the lockdowns have been difficult. I’ve been fed up for a long time.’

It all made my brain turn to mush and I still wanted to get out and about and get alternative perspectives on something which most people doubted could ever happen... I got sick of thinking and talking about it. I wanted to experience it…

I also got Covid…

A Snapshot

 

2020

I was glad at first to see the two street preachers in the centre of town on a rainy day. I had a little time to spare that day.

I sat on some steps listening to the first preacher. He was a man with a bag for life, possibly in his fifties. I thought I recognised him from another place as the preacher who had managed to draw a crowd once. That is still rare these days. He had the kind of megaphone which was so turned down he may as well have just shouted. We shall call him Dull Preacher, grey all over.

Dull Preacher not only preached badly, he was also a little nasty with it. Nearby signs railed against abortion and homosexuality. He preached what he said was the 'whole gospel', except he left out the part which says that God is love. He didn't say anything illegal but railed at the people of the town as 'wretched, vile sinners'. He took particular pleasure in telling everyone that they were spiritually dead (why tell us then? We're all dead, how can we listen, how did we even get into town?). And that we are on our way to hell. The usual kind of thing which puts people off street preachers.

"I was meditating on hell this morning," said Dull Preacher. What a life. Was this a regular meditation? Was it particularly motivational?

For some reason his version of hell involved spiders crawling over his body or everything a person fears but an infinite amount worse.

It was the middle of the Covid pandemic (which I will write about next week), with the town under tier three Government restrictions, with jobs and shops going and a people suffering all around. Dull proceeded to say, "You are all under the wrath of God!"

This in itself didn't bother me too much as I believe in free speech and I know it is often said. Many believers think it is true. But Dull was so smug with it all. The people of the town resisted or ignored him. A couple sat in wheelchair buggies, one vaping, looking like they were with their grandchildren, all trying to keep dry with hoods. Dull did the usual thing of railing against 'false religion' including Islam, Jehovah's Witnesses and Catholics. Standard stuff. Boring. And quite prejudicial.


He was helped by another man, who we will call Red Jacket Preacher, although I want to call him something worse. He had been holding up signs which read, 'Babies are murdered here'.

I thought that maybe Red would be better than Dull. Red was an elderly man. Nothing wrong with that, except he hadn't turned into a fine wine. He seemed to have turned to vinegar. Red had been circling the people handing out tracts while Dull told everyone that we were all dead. In the interim between the changeover of preachers I saw Dull with his arm around Red, first laughing and then praying in public. In the middle of the street. It is common these days. Public prayer. Virtue signalling. The town seemed disinterested.

Red didn't use a megaphone. But to my horror he was even worse than Dull. Everyone in the town, according to him was much worse than a vile, wretched sinner. And by God was he determined to let us all know. He seemed obsessed with railing against adultery in particular.

Once again he preached how the town was under the wrath and judgment of God. But notably he did not preach the whole gospel either, by which I mean he left out the actual good news that God is love as evidenced by the cross. Both preachers lingered on and remained with the bad news and deleted the good news aspects of the gospel, namely God's love and mercy. It was the last thing a people who were desperate for love in a plague needed.

"In fact," said Red, getting a kick out of his task, "God does not love you. He despises you." Except unlike the revivalist Jonathan Edwards, who said similar things, Red was ineffective and his small, Covid-fearing shopping congregation only shook their heads in anger and sadness. What with the pandemic, Brexit, the poverty and everything.

“Oh you haven’t suffered enough yet. You’re going to hell.”

“I’m already there!” shouted one guy who walked past… a sign of life.

Awful.

And then it happened. I had been listening and did not feel too incensed, although I recognised that the preaching was particularly bad. Before I knew it, I had approached Red and stood in front of him. This is what I remember of the following exchange. Dull sidled in then, to prevent violence I suppose, or film the exchange on his mobile.

None of us were wearing masks, but I wasn't intimidatingly or illegally close.

"Can I help you?" Asked vinegar Red.

"No, I don't think you can. I just wanted to say that I think you should also preach about the love of God as well as God’s wrath."

Sometimes I speak too quietly and I don't think Red heard.

"How can I help?" He said, showing no intention or likelihood of helping in any way whatsoever.

I had been sitting listening in the hopeless hope of some miracle - or to intervene if there was an arrest, to keep even these bad preachers safe.


"I'm here to protect you!" I said, exasperated.

My outburst seemed to amuse him.

"Protect me?!" He laughed "And how do you propose to do that?"

"Which church are you from?" I asked.

"None of your business!" Replied Red, still smug and unaccountable. And I looked deep into his eyes and could see that he couldn't care less about me.

It felt rude.

"I'm a journalist" I tried to explain, "I'm here to protect you..." But I was becoming increasingly upset at Red's arrogance. A rude smugness I have encountered before in some Christian circles. It is a kind of sanctimonious self-righteousness which states 'God is with me in everything I ever do or say and he is not with you'. Dull listened in, too close in my face.

"SO GO OFF AND JOURNAL THEN!" Shouted red preacher, still laughing. And that is how I am currently obeying him.

"You have no idea." I replied.

I don't remember much more of the exchange apart from their hard heartedness.


I walked away. But not calmly. I was upset. I cried, too sensitive as usual. I walked through the rain, which mercifully hid my public tears, up the street away from the incompetent preachers. I wondered if I should go back to confront them again. But I felt too fragile to do so. Instead, I made an attempt to write up the incident, before the usual attempts at forgiveness.

I went back later, intending to either film them or conclude the exchange in a more adult way, but they were gone. Thank God they had backed off. The town did not need them. And neither did I.

Red and Dull, Tweedledum and Tweedledee. Later I did dig and find out who they were and which church they were with - but I do not want to identify them or the church because not all believers are like that and besides, I was being oversensitive. Plus, knowing my luck and their characters I would get sued, even with the journalistic defence of truth.

And up and down the country, this pitiful exchange was symbolic of the spiritual state of the nation at the time. Not only were we in the middle of a pandemic, we were in the middle of a decline. The opposite of a revival. Known in the dictionary as a declension.

Yes, there are actually words for almost every spiritual state you and I might be in. Even, for some, conviction periods, an intense time when you begin to doubt many things you used to believe and believe many things you used to doubt...

Brexit and Revival

2016 (From my diary)

‘Some Christian writers are suggesting that the vote for Brexit has resulted in the start of a revival. I somehow doubt it. Believers are divided on which way to vote but the general consensus from those who say they know how God feels over news events, is that Jehovah wants Brexit to happen for some reason. I am undecided.’

 

2017

In 2016 the UK gave its notorious vote for Brexit. It was a strange time and it was not a time when religion kept out of politics. Believers were divided on it. But for some it seemed as if God would only be pleased if we left the EU. Donald Trump earned similar favour with a certain kind of believer. There seemed to be such a deep-seated sense of alienation in society against both the media and the establishment. So, Brexit and Trump seemed to offer some kind of hope to many. Farage was having the time of his life yet again.

The idea was that Brexit would disentangle Britain from a corrupt EU and possibly, eventually, a one world government. But for many it was more about the free movement of others into the UK. Was that discrimination and prejudice or was it about nationalism? Or both?

Many US believers felt that Trump would speak up for believers and for Christian issues, including the issue of termination. But there was no unity in Christian circles on these things. Donald Trump polarised people, there were few on the fence. Even in Britain he had many supporters and opponents.

Brexit, according to some of those commentators, was supposed to result in revival. The LORD would be pleased and this was supposed to create an atmosphere for revival and open up the floodgates of Heaven. But by the start of 2017 all it seemed to have done was create an atmosphere for jingoism. Voices which had never been heard (or tolerated) began to be heard. There were strange winds of change, but that change was not a revival, it was a strange kind of limbo, a vacuum in which the loudest and proudest would have their agendas pushed to the forefront of the consciousness of society. Most of the noise came from the shallow end of the pool. The meek did not push to the front of the queue and were drowned out by the shouts in the confusion in Britain at the time.

 

An incident I witnessed in a town in the Midlands in February 2017 seemed to sum up the whole thing. In the town centre, next to the market place, a street preacher began to preach in the jaded old morning. He said, “Repent. God is loving, God is good. Surrender to Christ. It doesn’t matter what you have done, he will forgive you. These are the end times.”

And he repeated this message to the people on a kind of loop, sometimes changing the order of the sentences. I listened for a while, as was my habit at the time. Then I saw one of the market traders conferring with a security guard who seemed to be linked to the market stalls (it was market day). And the guard, a tall, well-built man with a wispy beard, went across to speak with the preacher (a much more vulnerable looking man). I filmed the incident on my phone, expecting trouble. After a few minutes the man was moved on. The market stall holder had given the security guy his orders and he had succeeded in moving on the preacher, even though he was doing nothing wrong and had not even been using anything apart from his voice. His voice was most likely drowned out by the market stall holder who felt that he was bad for business.

The security guard walked across to me aggressively, smiled as if he had done some deed I should be pleased with (or else the smile said something more sinister) and then suddenly swerved off centimetres from me. I followed the street preacher briefly and he walked out of town, preaching as he went. To him, of course, it was the end times, and such things were to be expected.

The reason this story summed up the times was because the incident was happening on a much larger scale in society – and not just to street preachers.

Traders of all kinds felt that Christianity was not good for business. And their voices were the ones that were heard. And maybe, for some businesses they were right. In the town market there was a resident fortune teller – she, a grey-haired lady who claimed to be the seventh daughter of a seventh daughter had been there for years. She actually seemed quite nice, had a right to be there and I considered going to her if things got really bad, although these days I rarely even read my horoscope. What would a revival mean for new age traders? Other market stalls sold drug paraphernalia, poppers and the usual. But even the more legitimate market traders seemed to fear that the preachers were bad for business. Bad for mobile phone cases. Bad for fabrics. Bad for all kinds of things. It was not as if many people stopped to listen anyway. And that, essentially was the trouble. As the idol makers in the book of Acts in the Bible objected to Paul’s preaching, knowing that his message would result in a loss of their jobs and trade, so the modern-day preachers (even when they preached outside the traditional marketplace) seemed to be a threat to the jobs of many. To those who manufactured arms. To the payday lenders and those who dealt in drugs. These voices seemed to prevail at that time. For the sake, of course, of freedom of choice. And on a macro level, those who criticised or who preached a message which reduced their trade, would be thrown out by the security guards. Guards who would smile as they intimidated and moved on the voices and witnesses in broad daylight.

In the false dawn of Brexit.