In my now-very-intermittent blog, the last place described finding a resting place at the University Church (St Mary's, SMV) in Oxford. Now, I find myself restless again.
Two things have made me feel less at home at SMV. One is that the pandemic was rather an eye-opener on how little connection I had really made with the congregation. Early in the pandemic I joined some zoom sessions in lieu of coffee after church, and it was good to stay in touch. After these waned, I felt quite disconnected: I was quite unwell at various stages (the dreaded 'long covid' seemingly) and for most of the time joined the service only via YouTube. No one got in touch for most of the two years (but, equally, nor did I).
And SMV also seems to have an increasingly political outlook. The biblical themes of care for the poor, care for the environment, care for refugees, and so on, seem to find a particular kind of expression very strongly aligned with one side of politics. This, I confess, is not to my taste, nor my conviction. One of the last straws was the (temporary) installation of a massive art piece --- a model of the globe, invoking the spirit of Gaia --- central to the church, in the crossing. The symbolism, and the potential for idolartry, seemed a little too great.
So, aside from dropping in on a variety of other services thanks to YouTube, I have begun to explore again. Quite a number of Sundays have found me at Oxford Cathedral. There, I found a style of worship not dissimilar to SMV, and so quite familiar by now. To the micro-fine observer of Anglican ritual there are points slightly higher on the candle, and others maybe slightly lower, but it's around the same place. I've not been so very connected, the service being a bit later and so post-service coffee being too late to stay for, but I began to hope that I might find a new spiritual home there.
Then, on Sunday, the Cathedral celebrated the feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Now, I have a bit of a reformed soul, but I've sung "Ave Maria" (the words of the angel, after all) often enough without bursting into flames. I am not, I would say, overly dogmatic, but I wondred what the service would bring. The sermon brought plenty to chew on. It was explained that whilst Christians have "direct access" to the Almighty, it was good and expedeient to ask Mary to pray for us, as one might ask a friend to do so. This theme continuned for a while. Once I was satisfied that the line was not a rhetorical device but a genuine exhortation, I walked out, ostentatiously down the nave. I regret not shouting "Heresy!" as I went.
Maybe a discussion of the necromancy overtones of asking the saints (and Mary in particualr) to pray for us should be the subject of another blog post. But as far as I know this is not in any sense Anglican doctrine. It is at best a marginal dogma, then: and in my quest for a Christianity without the mediaeval metaphysicas, it cannot possibly have a part to play. Maybe I should try to engage with the Dean and Chapter, but the preacher was a Canon, so my inclination is just to avoid the place.
So, once again, I find myself not sure what to do next. Maybe I'll go back to SMV sometimes, and see how it goes. But it's hard to see it as full of fellow-travellers. Maybe I'm in a small category; maybe I'm not really going to find like-minded people. Maybe I'm wrong, and need to revisit my thinking. This could take some time.
