‘How much of the meaning of the words was lost when they were
produced with all the meretricious charm of melody!” declares Obadiah
Slope of Mr Harding’s beloved Barchester choir.
Slope is the villain of Anthony Trollope’s Barchester Towers,
and at the heart of his villainy is his managerial campaign to do away
with music in the cathedral. A sweet conceit for a Victorian novel, you
might think. Alas the spirit of Slope lives on.
Another week, another miserable story courtesy of the Church of England.
Winchester – where sung worship has featured since before the days of
Alfred the Great – has reportedly shown plans to its choral foundation
to “increase diversity of contribution” in line with its main priorities
of “reach and access” and “diversity and inclusion”.
(Note the
wishy-washy language, the lack of any mention of the worship of God.)
According to classical music magazine Slipped Disc, in management-speak,
this means replacing the cathedral choristers with a “variety of
singers from other parts of the regional demographic”.
Jargon becomes a
cover for what is, essentially, vandalism, the destruction of centuries
of beauty for no apparent reason.
All this has come to light via a
leaked PowerPoint presentation which the press and the people who
worship there were presumably not meant to see until the replacement of
choral singers became a fait accompli; a classic case of managers being
totally unaccountable to the people they purport to serve.
We
must hope this plan remains confined to the PowerPoint deck, but
similarly baffling decisions have become par for the course. St John’s
College, Cambridge recently disbanded its wonderful mixed-voice Anglican choir
St John’s Voices, which sings choral Evensong each week, in favour of
“more diverse musical genres”.
In 2020, Sheffield Cathedral sacked its
entire choir, supposedly to reflect “the exciting future of the mixed
urban community in which we live and work”.
At parish level, St
Margaret’s, Westminster quietly dismissed its choir midway through the
pandemic. Following a similar move, the congregation of Holy Trinity,
Sloane Square managed to raise enough money to fund their singers for a
few years; but what may work in affluent Chelsea won’t be a template for
all.
It is rarely entirely clear who is responsible for these
decisions, which is part of the problem, though it isn’t coming from the
people in the pews.
The organisational structure of ecclesiastical
bodies, both cathedrals and dioceses, is now so complicated that no one
can or will take responsibility for even major changes; which,
ironically, makes manifestly self-destructive decisions that bit easier
to execute.
Attendance at Evensong is one of the few areas of CofE
worship that is actually growing, so, beyond malice, there can be little
logical argument for dismantling world-beating cathedral choirs.
The
obvious conclusion is that the people running the Church of England
resent the Church in its current form, and everything that it most
excels at.
Trusting our national heritage with these people is akin to
handing over a Ming vase to a gorilla. Just because the gorilla happens
to be wearing a suit and carrying a clipboard, doesn’t mean he won’t
still chuck it against the wall.
The press – especially of the Right –
is often accused of mindlessly bashing the CofE. In fact, very few of us
hate it. Quite the opposite. It is loved but not, it seems, by the
actual people who run it.
Their efforts may even prove
self-defeating. For instance, if “diversity” is no longer seen as the
commendable idea of different groups coexisting peacefully, but
something that repudiates the culture that has shaped our common life,
then the public will be more likely to reject it. Then again, I don’t
see clamour for cultural vandalism coming from “diverse communities”
themselves, but from the faceless “wrecker” administrative class.
You
can trace this back to various roots, but the fundamental reason for
the total uniformity of managerial ethos in the Church goes back to a
relatively recent decision by Gordon Brown to abdicate all ministerial
influence over the appointment of bishops.
Assailed by Presbyterian
conscience, he became the first prime minister to give the Church a
pretty much free hand in appointing its own leaders.
This has allowed a
particular party of managerial evangelicals (with the odd token
managerial Anglo-Catholic) to occupy practically every single senior
position, both official and unofficial.
What is needed is a
government prepared to take this back and save our cultural heritage
from the zealous internal subset who manifestly hate it.
Everyone, not
just professing Christians, should fear the destruction of a rich
inheritance that belongs to us all.
Last week’s local elections
offered a glimpse of the tribal, sectarian future awaiting UK politics.
It seems particularly poignant that the custodians of our history are
busy destroying the heritage they are supposed to defend just when we
most need things that bind us together.
Thanks to the false god of
“outreach”, the Church of England is severing them.
Slope is the villain of Anthony Trollope’s Barchester Towers, and at the heart of his villainy is his managerial campaign to do away with music in the cathedral. A sweet conceit for a Victorian novel, you might think. Alas the spirit of Slope lives on.
Another week, another miserable story courtesy of the Church of England. Winchester – where sung worship has featured since before the days of Alfred the Great – has reportedly shown plans to its choral foundation to “increase diversity of contribution” in line with its main priorities of “reach and access” and “diversity and inclusion”.
(Note the wishy-washy language, the lack of any mention of the worship of God.)
According to classical music magazine Slipped Disc, in management-speak, this means replacing the cathedral choristers with a “variety of singers from other parts of the regional demographic”.
Jargon becomes a cover for what is, essentially, vandalism, the destruction of centuries of beauty for no apparent reason.
All this has come to light via a leaked PowerPoint presentation which the press and the people who worship there were presumably not meant to see until the replacement of choral singers became a fait accompli; a classic case of managers being totally unaccountable to the people they purport to serve.
We must hope this plan remains confined to the PowerPoint deck, but similarly baffling decisions have become par for the course. St John’s College, Cambridge recently disbanded its wonderful mixed-voice Anglican choir St John’s Voices, which sings choral Evensong each week, in favour of “more diverse musical genres”.
In 2020, Sheffield Cathedral sacked its entire choir, supposedly to reflect “the exciting future of the mixed urban community in which we live and work”.
At parish level, St Margaret’s, Westminster quietly dismissed its choir midway through the pandemic. Following a similar move, the congregation of Holy Trinity, Sloane Square managed to raise enough money to fund their singers for a few years; but what may work in affluent Chelsea won’t be a template for all.
It is rarely entirely clear who is responsible for these decisions, which is part of the problem, though it isn’t coming from the people in the pews.
The organisational structure of ecclesiastical bodies, both cathedrals and dioceses, is now so complicated that no one can or will take responsibility for even major changes; which, ironically, makes manifestly self-destructive decisions that bit easier to execute.
Attendance at Evensong is one of the few areas of CofE worship that is actually growing, so, beyond malice, there can be little logical argument for dismantling world-beating cathedral choirs.
The obvious conclusion is that the people running the Church of England resent the Church in its current form, and everything that it most excels at.
Trusting our national heritage with these people is akin to handing over a Ming vase to a gorilla. Just because the gorilla happens to be wearing a suit and carrying a clipboard, doesn’t mean he won’t still chuck it against the wall.
The press – especially of the Right – is often accused of mindlessly bashing the CofE. In fact, very few of us hate it. Quite the opposite. It is loved but not, it seems, by the actual people who run it.
Their efforts may even prove self-defeating. For instance, if “diversity” is no longer seen as the commendable idea of different groups coexisting peacefully, but something that repudiates the culture that has shaped our common life, then the public will be more likely to reject it. Then again, I don’t see clamour for cultural vandalism coming from “diverse communities” themselves, but from the faceless “wrecker” administrative class.
You can trace this back to various roots, but the fundamental reason for the total uniformity of managerial ethos in the Church goes back to a relatively recent decision by Gordon Brown to abdicate all ministerial influence over the appointment of bishops.
Assailed by Presbyterian conscience, he became the first prime minister to give the Church a pretty much free hand in appointing its own leaders.
This has allowed a particular party of managerial evangelicals (with the odd token managerial Anglo-Catholic) to occupy practically every single senior position, both official and unofficial.
What is needed is a government prepared to take this back and save our cultural heritage from the zealous internal subset who manifestly hate it.
Everyone, not just professing Christians, should fear the destruction of a rich inheritance that belongs to us all.
Last week’s local elections offered a glimpse of the tribal, sectarian future awaiting UK politics.
It seems particularly poignant that the custodians of our history are busy destroying the heritage they are supposed to defend just when we most need things that bind us together.
Thanks to the false god of “outreach”, the Church of England is severing them.