ANOTHER VOICE
On first reading the Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion
AUBERON WAUGH
Since 1865, Church of England clergy have not been required to affirm their acceptance of the Thirty-Nine Articles of Religion, sometimes treated as the defini- tive statment of Anglican doctrine. They are merely required to declare that the Articles are 'agreeable to the word of God'. Many Anglicans do not realise this, imagining that they can be invoked like Queen's Regulations in the army by barrack-room lawyers to confound a recal- citrant clergyman and bring him to heel or, best of all, have him denounced as a heretic, drummed out of the Church and forced to earn his living as a traffic warden.
Similar, although not identical, consid- erations apply to belief in the physical resurrection of Christ at Easter, which St Paul described as the touchstone of the Church's credibility (1 Cor. xv 3-17). In case St Paul might be thought to have fallen into disrepute as a Roman by the time of the English Reformation, the Articles of Religion spell it out in the most unequivocal terms of which the English language is capable. Article IV reads in full: 'Christ did truly rise again from death, and took again his body, with flesh, bones, and all things appertaining to the perfec- tion of Man's nature; wherewith he ascended into Heaven, and there sitteth, until he return to judge all Men at the last day.'
The Bishop of Durham, by contrast, is prepared to proclaim his theory that this resurrection may refer to a migration of the soul, at most, or be intended symbolically — in the sense that John Brown's body lies a-mould'ring in the grave but his soul is marching on — at the least:
I cannot cheat or conceal on this because the whole matter is too important for cheating or concealment or pretending to beliefs that one does not find sufficient reason for holding.
This notion of sufficient reason as a requirement for the profession of faith would be a pleasing theological novelty, disregarding as it does the operation of will, or grace, let alone any submission to the authority of tradition, if it had not been advanced by a bishop of a supposedly Christian Church. One may reasonably ask on what he bases his authority to teach anything, since the New Testament is as unequivocal on the point as words can make it, and Christian tradition is even firmer. The answer is that he bases his authority to teach on a perception of his superior powers of intelligence or reason.
Perhaps he would shrink from words like
'authority', suggesting that his function is merely to contribute towards a general debate in the search for some central truth among the superstitious debris which has accumulated over the centuries. But a bishop is essentially an overseer (Greek epi-skopos, Latin episcopus, Old English (e)biscopus, Wheatcroft: 'bishop!') rather than a member of any vulgar debating society. The rage of Anglicans over the behaviour of this bishop — and in Somer- set, at least, 'rage' is certainly not too strong a word — is explained in very large part by the fact that after four and a quarter centuries of prancing around and congratulating themselves on their toler- ance, their open-mindedness, their Middle Way through everything, they now find them's-elves hoist with their own petard. Having joyfully submitted themselves to the pleasures of the Reformation like so many foolish virgins, they missed out on the rigours of the Counter-Reformation. They have quite literally no protection against Bishop Jenkins, who makes a mockery of everything they believe, or half-believe, or would rather like to be- lieve. It is all very well for laymen to have their own private reservations but when a paid-up bishop tries to get in on the act the whole edifice crumbles. Where, in effect, are their sufficient reasons for believing anything beyond their own intuitive, opti- mistic perceptions of a greater good?
When`one gets to Article 38, one realises that the Thirty-Nine Articles are well and truly foutus as a guide to the Middle Way: 'The Riches and Goods of Christians are not common, as touching the right, title and possession of the same, as certain Anabaptists do falsely boast . .
I say, I say, I say. Does this mean you can't be Christian and Anglican? What about dear old Tom Driberg?
In a more robust age than our own, the Thirty-Nine Articles appeared with a pre• face called 'His Majesty's Declaration', the majesty attaching to Charles I, the Martyr King. King Charles invoked no commina- tion against those who would dispute this constitution of the Church of England from the pulpit, only in the universities: That if any publick Reader in either of Our Universities . . . shall affirm any new sense to any Article, or shall publickly read, determine or hold any publick Disputation . . . if any Divine in the Universities shall preach or print anything either way other than is established in Convocation with Our Royal Assent, he or they the Offenders shall be liable to Our Displeasure . . . And We will see there shall be due Execution upon them.
This Declaration was ratified by Royal Warrant on. 12 June 1953 by our present
Queen and reaffirmed by R. A.. Butler, on her behalf, on 16 July 1958. We maY debate the most appropriate form of ex' ecution upon Dr Jenkins. Obviously, there is no room in our prisons for him. In a convent school which two of my sisters briefly attended, delinquent girls were made to wear a huge, floppy bonnet. That may not he the perfect solution. No doubt the Bishop of Durham would contrive to wear his booby's bonnet in an especially irritating, holy sort of way. Dante sug' gested that two Popes of whom he dis- approved — Nicholas III and Boniface VIII, in admittedly rather different cir- cumstances — should be buried in the, ground upside down and their feet se' alight. Perhaps this would be an adequate expression of the violent anger which 0, many people feel. In the army, we had punitive kit inspections. Perhaps the Bishop should be required to prepare h1s vestments for inspection every half-hour. It is Mrs Thatcher who should be blamed for promoting this clown from the murky depths of Leeds University, but it is the Queen who bears the responsibility for sorting out the problems created by MIS Thatcher's curious choice. If the Quail does nothing, Somerset folk might reason' ably complain that she is reneging on her Coronation oath. When one starts brood' ing on a suitable punishment for that, one realises that history has only one precedent — in the Martyr King.