Humanism and Me: Celebrating World Humanist Day in the South West of England

Welcome

My name is Anastasia Somerville-Wong, and I am one of the Chaplains working for Somerset NHS Foundation Trust in Community and Mental Health. I am also a Humanist Chaplain at the University of Exeter, and am accredited with the Non-Religious Pastoral Support Network (NRPSN), a membership organisation of the Network for Pastoral, Spiritual and Religious Care in Health (NPSRCH).

Welcome to this celebration of World Humanist Day here in the South West of England. I have invited some guests to contribute to this article in order to create a collection of personal understandings and approaches to Humanism, and to showcase the broad range of our Humanism-inspired work in the region. We invite you to read and reflect, as we explain what Humanism means to us, both individually and collectively, and share with you the ways in which it inspires us to build a better world.

Before we start, we want to express our solidarity with Humanists and the nonreligious around the world, especially with those who are persecuted for their beliefs or the lack of certain beliefs, and with all those of minority faith or belief around the world who face oppression, discrimination and violence. We want to express our shared hope for kinder and more reasonable societies, for stable and accountable governments, and for peace and cooperation between nations.

Humanism and Me

Anastasia Somerville-Wong

NHS and University Chaplain, Devon Faith and Belief Forum Executive and Trustee, Member of the Humanist Dialogue Network and Humanist Climate Action

For me, Humanism means having eyes wide open to the beauties and horrors of the world and facing this reality with honesty and courage. It means having the humility to accept that we cannot claim to know more than can be proven or demonstrated with reason and science. It means striving to live an ethical life driven by empathy and compassion for all. It means championing human rights, human flourishing and the wellbeing of the earth and all its creatures. Humanism means engaging in a life-time of responsible free-thinking, critical scholarship and the examination of our own assumptions and unconscious bias. It means engaging in the messy reality of human affairs with the determination to build a kinder, more reasonable society.

As a Humanist Chaplain, my particular passion is for making the highest standards of inclusive spiritual care available to all, equally, everywhere. Our institutions are often good at meeting our basic physical needs, but they have less time and fewer resources to address our higher needs for meaning and purpose. The latter are often considered a luxury once our basic needs have been met, but the reality is that it’s our higher needs that motivate us to get out of bed each morning and attend to our basic needs in the first place. Spiritual care is about helping people, often when they are in difficult and painful circumstances, to connect to the things that give their lives meaning, purpose and joy, and we facilitate this by listening, by being non-judgmental and compassionate company, by creating space for people to speak and to reflect on their own situations, by offering the perspectives of other minds (our own and the insights of other thinkers), by signposting and advocacy, and by facilitating reflective, creative and therapeutic practices, rituals and ceremonies.

The humanistic spiritual care I provide looks at the universal aspects of spirituality that are common to all humans whether we are religious or nonreligious. The essence of spirituality is the creation and renewal of meaning in life. Growing in spirituality is about attending to the inner life; our innermost thoughts and feelings, our personal stories and character, and our collective stories, identities, heritages and cultures. It is about connecting meaningfully with one another using wisdom and empathy. It is about expressing and refining our creativity, ingenuity and art-forms, and taking inspiration from the works of others in turn. It is about appreciating the awe-inspiring beauty and complexity of the universe and understanding our place within it. It is about finding purpose in a vocation, and in causes far greater than ourselves, such as social justice, human rights and environmental repair. It means remaining faithful to core beliefs and values while also being willing to question them and allowing them to evolve. Being spiritual requires that we maintain a growth mentality, and a life-long commitment to truth-seeking, through open-mindedness, openheartedness, critical scholarship, reflective practice and mindfulness. Indeed, spiritual growth is about harmonising our beliefs, values, behaviours and experiences so that we can live with integrity.

In addition to inclusive spiritual care, I am also passionate about equality, diversity and inclusion, and building relationships of understanding and respect across faith and belief groups based on common values. This is an important part of my work, not only as a Chaplain, but also as an Executive and Trustee of the Devon Faith and Belief Forum, and as a member of the University of Exeter’s Faith and Belief Equality Group and the Humanists UK Dialogue Network. I am also helping to set up NHS Humanists, a network to stand alongside the existing Humanists UK networks for defence, teachers, students, youth, LGBT Humanists, the Humanist Climate Action network and the Faith to Faithless initiative, which provides support for apostates. Many Humanists get involved with political campaigning in order to defend and promote equality and human rights. It is common to find Humanists sitting on a variety of Ethics Committees, and we are increasingly included on Standing Advisory Councils on Religious Education (known as SACREs), where we promote understanding and respect for nonreligious, as well as religious worldviews, in schools.

Let’s hear now from some other Humanists in the South West about what drew them to Humanism, and about what motivates them to work for Humanist causes.

Tim Purches

Humanist Schools Speaker, Plymouth Humanists Organiser, Member of the Humanist Dialogue Network and Humanist Climate Action

I have been a Humanist for around 20 years now. Before that, I fell into the non-religious category, but in a rather vague sort of way – I had never really thought through what I believed. Then, at around 40, for the first time in my life, I did start to think seriously about those big questions that both Humanism and religion try to answer – questions about how we understand the world around us, how we find meaning in our lives, how we work out what’s right and wrong. For me, Humanism gave the best answers, it made the most sense to me. Whatever ideas about the existence of god and life after death that I had had in my childhood had faded away over the years, so religion was never really an option.

I get a lot from being a Humanist, but if you were to ask what the most important thing is, I would say that it makes me think. It makes me examine what I believe and make sure I can really justify holding those beliefs. Of course, what I have ended up with is a very Humanist worldview but it is one I have thought about very carefully, and I like to think I am always open to alternate points of view.

It is fundamental for me that being a Humanist must be more than sitting around debating the existence of god or whatever. It must be about actively trying to make the world a better place. A lot of what I do to try and achieve that does not fall directly under the banner of Humanism, although there is often a lot of overlap between my concerns as a Humanist, and broader issues that I and many other people, Humanist or not, campaign about. The most obvious of those is climate change. It’s such a significant issue that Humanists UK have a specific network of volunteers, which I am part of, that supports and encourages Humanists to take action in this area.

As for specifically Humanist activism, there are a couple of things that, over the last ten years, I’ve been involved in in Plymouth. We have a local group here that I help organise, and we put on a variety of events – talks, a book club and various social events. These are always open to all, regardless of their beliefs. That is particularly important to me – I believe we should be as open and inclusive as possible. By doing all this we are trying to provide a community for local Humanists, something which, I have to be honest, Humanism tends to be poor at.

I have also been a volunteer school speaker for five years. That has been a really rewarding experience.  Of course, for the children, having a real live Humanist in front of them who they can talk to and ask questions of is a great way to help them better understand what Humanism is, what Humanists believe and how they live their lives. But I also gain a lot from it.  The children ask such insightful and demanding questions, and that makes me think more deeply and broadly about my beliefs and how to best to communicate them.

Jacqueline Watson

Humanist Celebrant, NHS Chaplain, Healthcare-volunteer Trainer, NRPSN Regional Coordinator, NPSRCH Representative

For me, Humanism is a way of giving identity to non-religious people and joining us together, to share and debate our views about humanity and our place in the world.  Humanists take a naturalistic approach to life, celebrating humanity’s achievements, especially in science and medicine, while recognising our weaknesses and using reason to try to address these.  The notion of a ‘life after death’ does not offer comfort to me, but rather the acceptance of life and death, and the importance of living the best life we can, offers a solace and optimism that works for me.

Humanists UK enables non-religious people to hold essential ceremonies – for weddings, funerals, and namings – that reflect their own personal spiritual beliefs and feelings, and their ethical values, giving meaning to their journey through life.  As a Humanist celebrant, I am hugely privileged to carry out such ceremonies, giving families the opportunity to have as meaningful a ceremony as religious people.  We often hold weddings outdoors to recognise and celebrate the natural world and our place in it.

More recently, Humanists UK, through the Non-Religious Pastoral Support Network, has championed non-religious volunteers in chaplaincy teams, in hospitals and prisons.  The Network trains non-religious volunteers and some of us have gone on now to become NHS employees, as non-religious chaplains working alongside our religious colleagues.  As a chaplain myself, I find that patients and staff see a value in having non-religious members of chaplaincy teams to give support to people who are struggling with their experiences in healthcare settings.  We will support religious as well as non-religious patients and staff, but always hand over to religious chaplains where there is a specific need.

As well as being a Humanist celebrant and a non-religious hospital chaplain, I am also the coordinator of the Non-Religious Pastoral Support Network (NRPSN) in the South West, and I am also a member of the national Network for Pastoral, Spiritual and Religious Care in Health (NPSRCH).  This organisation seeks to increase diversity in healthcare chaplaincies, to include more people from minority religions and beliefs.  I am also the lead tutor on this Network’s course for volunteers, called ‘Exploring Healthcare Chaplaincy’, as well as a trainer on the Non-Religious Network’s training programme.

Keith Denby

Independent Advisor to Devon & Cornwall Police and Humanist Representative on Devon SACRE

Humanism is a positive worldview. If everyone used reason, evidence, experience and above all empathy to guide them then the world would be a much better place. But people do harm to one another, to other creatures and to the planet itself. A Humanist cannot ignore this harm and has a duty to engage and to bring a Humanist approach to bear on these problems. My own particular engagement has been in the area of harms that humans do to their fellows. People commit crimes and the rational response of society that has evolved over many centuries is to create a police force and to provide its members with strong powers to gather evidence about crime and to detain those that the evidence shows to be responsible. Giving people strong powers risks abuse and discrimination so those powers need to be carefully monitored. Police forces in the UK invite independent members of the public to advise them, to scrutinise their activities and to act as ‘critical friends’.

I have been an Independent Advisor to Devon and Cornwall Police for 14 years. The role has been very demanding at times but also very rewarding. At the outset I said to myself that if I didn’t see any change as a result of my advice then I would resign … and years later I’m still an advisor. I have been upskilled in understanding a wide range of police activities and been granted remarkably open access to many aspects of police work. I work mostly around equality and diversity and have specialised in helping to combat Hate Crime and latterly with the considerable effort to eliminate violence by men against women and girls. I have also joined the force Ethics Committee which debates ethical dilemmas submitted by any member of the police officers and staff.

In all my work I try to just be a Humanist. I think that is much appreciated by the police, who themselves have long valued reason and evidence but nowadays also strongly value empathy and emotional intelligence. The personal experiences of police officers and academic research has shown that mental health problems and early life trauma lie at the root of the majority of criminal acts. Policing is evolving to take account of this more and more and the involvement of independent advisors in helping them to understand the communities they police is a vital part of this process.

Graham Kennedy

Chair of Taunton and Somerset Humanists

I was brought up in a Christian family in Northern Ireland during the community strife there. It’s fair to say that the societal and religious environment was several decades behind that of England. Homosexuality was illegal. Racial discrimination was the norm. All religious pictures showed white Europeans and the “curse of Ham” justified the commonly held view that black people were an inferior race. All my extended family were practising Christians. I attended the Methodist College Belfast. However, during my teenage years I became disillusioned with the Christian god. I’m a logical thinker and I couldn’t subscribe to the view that (religious) faith superseded reason.

Unusually, my school taught us about other religions. Even atheism was – briefly – examined. The question of morals in atheism was discussed and I was enlightened by the concept of humans developing their own laws based on what is best for the human race. My life progressed incrementally from Christian to non-religious to anti-religious to agnostic.

One day, while browsing on the internet, I came upon a quiz entitled “How Humanist Are You?” I took the quiz and was informed that I was 100% Humanist. So I was a Humanist without wanting to be one! After more research, I could see that, yes, I’m a Humanist. And now I wanted to become an activist. I sought out my local Humanists group and found a small group who met monthly in a Taunton pub. I felt that the group could become larger and more outward looking and found wide agreement. In particular, our group felt that living a non-religious life was a topic rarely discussed in Somerset education establishments and this needed addressing. We used social media to raise awareness of our existence and our membership is steadily increasing. When our group leader decided to retire, I was elected chairman. Since then our group has become affiliated to Humanists UK.

There is an a generally accepted assumption that Humanists have no beliefs. This is untrue. Humanists believe that the world can become a better place through the actions of humans. It can become more empathetic, more equal in opportunities, more harmonious; a happier place with ethics based on reason. It is this vision which inspires me as a Humanist.

Closing Reflections

It’s really inspiring to hear how much my fellow Humanists are doing to improve and enrich society here in the UK!

While Humanism has no creed, there are several manifestos and declarations outlining the values and principles which the majority of Humanists have in common, and these are useful for explaining, reflecting on, and developing the humanistic worldview. The most famous is the Amsterdam Declaration of 1952, updated in 2002. Humanism has a long and rich history dating back to the early ethical societies of the nineteenth century, with threads going back to the agnostic, atheist and other progressive movements of the Enlightenment, and even further back, through the scholarship of the Renaissance Humanists, to the sceptical and secular philosophies of ancient Greece, Rome, China and India. Humanist thinkers and activists have always been at the forefront of progressive social movements, including the abolition of slavery, women’s suffrage, the civil rights movement, the first anti-racism movement (indeed Humanists organised the first global races congress in 1911), anti-colonialism, the drafting of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and much, much more.

Humanists come in many shapes and forms, including members of Secular, Sceptical, Humanist and Free-Thinking groups, non-affiliated individuals identifying as Humanist, and members of humanistic ‘religious’ or ethnic groups such as the Humanistic Jews, Secular Buddhists, and Non-Theistic Christians. It is possible to have a Humanist worldview while remaining culturally religious. A significant number of Unitarians, Unitarian Universalists, Quakers, Quaker Universalists, Religious Naturalists and others also identify as Humanists. Therefore, Humanism embraces a range of individuals and groups whose approach to knowledge is based on reason and science, who live ethical lives based on empathy and compassion, and who strive to build kinder, fairer and more reasonable societies. Many people today are Humanists without even knowing it. Maybe you’re reading this article right now and are surprised to find that Humanism describes your worldview!

While Humanism does stand in stark contrast to conservative religious and fundamentalist worldviews, the reality is that in many cases, especially in liberal democratic societies, secular and religious worldviews have a lot of overlap in terms of values and goals. Humanism can learn a lot from the reflective practices and rituals of the religions, in order to build cohesive community, while religious communities can learn a lot from humanistic philosophy and practice, in order to overcome tribalism, dogmatism and superstition. It is vital we build bridges in these times of division and polarisation, and Humanists are keen to work as part of a progressive alliance, in order to address our global challenges and ensure a better future for us all. Prominent religious leaders have acknowledged that it is ‘practical humanism’ that has enabled the various faiths and denominations to begin to see past their differences and come together to celebrate common values grounded in our common humanity. It is practical humanism, which can bring an end to religious rivalry and sectarian violence, and which supports ecumenical and interfaith initiatives.

We acknowledge that humanity has some serious weaknesses and flaws, but humans are also capable of great empathy and compassion, and this capacity for kindness, combined with our ingenuity, will help us to create a peaceful and sustainable future. Whether members of a faith or belief group or not, we all have a responsibility to develop our better natures. All humans start out with an innate capacity for empathy, compassion and reasonableness, which can either be stifled or nurtured by the cultures and traditions in which we are raised. The only way our species can survive and flourish, and prevent political and environmental catastrophe, is to make continual efforts to grow and develop our finer feelings and nobler aspirations, and to nurture them in our children and young people. With this in mind, I would like to share a quotation from Mengzhi (better known by the Latinised version of his name, Mencius), who was a philosopher and political adviser in China in the 4th Century BCE:

“All human beings have a constitution which suffers when it sees the suffering of others… If people catch sight suddenly of a child about to fall into a well, they will all experience a feeling of alarm and distress… Because we all have these feelings in ourselves, let us develop them, and the result will be like the blaze that is kindled from a small flame, or the spring in full spate that starts with a trickle. Let these feelings have a free rein, and they will be enough to give shelter and love to us all.”

Mengzhi

Frog and Toad, 20 stories written and illustrated by Arnold Lobel: These are some of the greatest stories of empathy and friendship ever written for children (and their parents!).

“I am happy. I am very happy. This morning when I woke up I felt good because the sun was shining. I felt good because I was a frog. And I felt good because I have you as a friend. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to think about how fine everything is.” 
― Arnold Lobel, Days with Frog and Toad

Paganism: An Interview with Steve Davies

It is really important in these times of political and religious polarisation, to fully understand and appreciate the full range of liberal, progressive and humanistic expressions of spirituality, from the more secular and atheistic, to those that embrace a lot of ritual, devotion, imagery and mythology but nonetheless stop short of the harmful forms of dogmatism and superstition that are all about control and exploitation. It is why I started Secular Liturgies back in 2018 as a network for progressives of all sorts, rather than just as a blog representing one particular group. I felt there was a real need for this because there is so much tribalism, group-think and a lack of mutual appreciation and understanding among religion/belief groups, even where there is a lot of overlap between values and goals. Indeed, even where groups have almost identical worldviews, they seem often to be mired in mutual suspicion and competition, rather than cooperating in the most effective ways to meet our spiritual needs and global challenges. This must surely change if we are to succeed in repairing our planet and ourselves!

So, in a spirit of cooperation, and in glorious celebration of the diversity among free-thinkers and progressives, I am delighted to be able to share another Secular Liturgies Network interview, this time with Steve Davies, a “Non-Theistic” or “Less-Theistic” Pagan and NHS Psychotherapist…

Anastasia Somerville-Wong

Steve Davies

1. What does it mean to you, to be a “non-theistic Pagan”, in terms of both belief and practice?

This is a great question! I’m not sure whether I class myself as fully non-theistic but I am certainly a “less-theistic Pagan” if that doesn’t sound too pedantic. Because many Pagans tend to have more animistic or polytheistic world views, we are already into the realm of questioning what we mean by the word “god” and how my valuing of certain mythic figures or archetypes may fall outside easy categorisation.

My own current perspective is that I am largely agnostic about the objective existence of either God or Gods. Rather, as a Pagan, I tend to see them as principles that have been given form throughout human history in an attempt to embody an aspiration or ideal. Such expressions can be archetypal in their mythic expression of human longing and are also subject to change and evolution via the communities creating them. Like great art they are expressions of human wonder in encountering the mystery of existence.

I think that these symbols have a reality and psychological potency but that this doesn’t rely on them creating or upholding the universe or directing human existence. My own practice has many parallels to some schools of Buddhism in which the images engaged with can become lenses for considering an issue or attaining a goal in my life. Any ritual drama enacted doesn’t for me rely on such a being objectively acting on my behalf, rather it calls forth those principles from within myself.

My own path makes overt use of Buddhist forms of meditation practice, but I choose to describe myself as a Pagan because I centralise my reverence for the natural world and the profound lessons learnt via its cycles, evolution and impermanence.

2. What was the ‘journey’ that led you to non-theistic Paganism? 

Well my earliest spiritual explorations (about aged 11) involved experimentation with Hatha Yoga and Buddhist forms of meditation that tended to focus more on practice rather than metaphysics. I then became very involved in some fairly Evangelical forms of Christianity during my mid-teenage years and eventually undertook an undergraduate degree in Theology with a view to entering the Anglican Priesthood. I had a major crisis of faith over a couple of years during my mid-20’s as I struggled with both the exclusivity claims of Christianity and the Churches’ overall attitude towards LGBT+ people. My yearning for spiritual meaning eventually led me to explore more earth focused traditions such as the Druid and Wiccan traditions as well as reconnecting to Buddhist forms of meditation practice.

In engaging with these paths I found myself feeling increasingly uncomfortable with depictions of deity that often seemed little more than the transference of forms of monotheism that relied on sentimentality and a view of direct divine involvement that didn’t feel congruent with my own experience. Over the past 20 years I have been involved in working together with a small group of friends in Pagan meditation group that tends to use non-theistic ritual and meditation practice during the 8 major festivals that most Pagan traditions tend to celebrate in acknowledging the movement of the seasons.

3. Which thinkers, writers or other figures have inspired you most and why?

I really like the work of the historian Dr Ronald Hutton who has helped understand the very human origins of contemporary Paganism (Triumph of the Moon especially), I love the work of Matthew Fox and how his Creation Spirituality centralised the Cosmos across religious traditions. I find great value in theologians from the Sea of Faith and Process theology movements such as Don Cupitt and Alfred Whitehead in that they emphasise the place of reason and emergence in our creation of religion.

I still spend time reading primary texts from the Gnostic tradition such as the Nag Hammadi Library as they tend to emphasise the way in which the religious journey can become a means of greater personal and psychological freedom in a way that resonates strongly with Buddhist practice. I really enjoy the works of Buddhist teacher Pema Chodron such as When Things Fall Apart and my favourite book on Zen is Most Intimate by Pat Enkyo O’Hara.

4. How compatible is the humanistic/non-theist worldview with the broader stream of Paganism (or how does it fit in)?

I think it would be very much down to the individual humanist and how able they feel to tolerate much of the theistic and potentially magical imagery of many Pagan paths. Personally I am happy reframing much of the ritual drama and practices as being potentially valuable and life enhancing psychological processes but I might also have difficulty participating deeply in a community where folks are conceptualising very literally about the metaphysical dynamics at work.

Groups vary greatly and while many non-theists may find the amount of God-talk restricts their involvement, networks such as Green Spirit https://www.greenspirit.org.uk/   focus on Eco-spirituality and the cycle of the year while using very little theological or esoteric language.

5. What are the greatest highlights and opportunities for Paganism in Britain today (or what do you think Paganism has to offer secular and multi-faith/multicultural societies like ours more widely)?

For me Paganism is a path that honours and values the Earth, the material realm and the human body. In contrast to many theistic paths it seeks to work with our joyous experience of these things rather than trying to view them as corrupted or needing to be escaped from. I believe that this is both appealing and something we desperately need.

Many of us are involved in activism around climate change, racial equality and inclusion more generally and in that work many of us struggle with potential burn out and compassion fatigue. I would argue that we need creative, ritual and psychological tools for nourishing and sustaining this work and that the deep, dynamic and playful approach embodied in many Pagan paths is a potential means of accessing such sustenance.

6. What are the greatest internal and external challenges for Paganism in Britain today?

From my perspective the very individualistic and broad-umbrella approach of Paganism as a religious descriptor means that we are taking about potentially everything from a very gentle non-theistic creation spirituality group to a culturally focused form of “hard” Polytheism where the Gods are viewed as very real beings. It asks us to be adults in discerning what we want from our potential involvement and also listening to our own needs regarding boundaries and consent and how vital political consistency is in participating in a community.

Because many Earth-focused traditions have their roots in specific cultural/historic and even ethnic contexts, the Pagan community is having to think hard about maximising inclusion while at the same time listening to concerns about cultural appropriation and ensuring that the (often White) people exploring indigenous traditions are doing so respectfully and seeking the counsel of those communities from which these traditions are emerging. The way that much of the New Age community has co-opted Native American spiritual traditions is a cautionary tale in how not to do it!

7. Do you use liturgical forms / scripts in your religious practice, and if so, can you give me (or link to) any examples? 

Here’s something that I wrote that we use at the beginning of our Pagan Meditation Group:

We come seeking gnosis
And the wisdom to apply it.
We come seeking the Old Ways
That we might truly live now
And become the future.

We come seeking the three realms
And the three treasures
Sky, Earth and Sea
The transcendent, the immanent and the Ancestors.
We seek the World Tree as the realm of practice:

Our Minds, our Bodies, our Lives.
We seek to take up the Runes 
Fragments of mystery
As we see sense and nonsense
On the road we travel.

We give thanks to the heroes of practice
We give thanks for the complex Web of Truth
We give thanks to those who sit like mountains together.

Steve Davies

8. As you are interested in chaplaincy, how do you think the inclusion of Pagan Chaplains might enrich the work of chaplaincies at institutions?

Many forms of Chaplaincy are still dominated by a Christian perspective that no longer reflects the diversity of our society or its spiritual needs. We need a more diverse perspective that also prioritises the people we are seeking to support rather than evangelisation or the imposition of moralistic positions. 

Personally I think that humanist, Pagan and Liberal theistic traditions are vital in promoting spiritual curiosity and also ensuring that issues around equality, diversity and access are seen as central rather than merely paid lip-service to. Like you, I am interested in supporting young people as they face the major transitions of their life and I think that intellectually informed spiritual exploration can provide them with highly helpful resources and community.

9. What are your plans for the future in terms of religion/belief related matters?

I continue to write and think about all these things, and as I work as a Psychotherapist within the NHS, I am always interested in how issues around belief and spirituality are explored and supported in my work with both individuals and families. I think that the tools of analysis and deconstruction that an open humanism promotes are also helpful in ensuring that we use the best of evidence based medicine in our work.

I also enjoy teaching and am hopefully delivering some mental health awareness training for a cohort of trainee Pagan Chaplains this year. This is a really exciting opportunity, and I hope to continue helping the Pagan community think about how it develops its Chaplaincy and pastoral ministries.

Reflecting on the Past and Planning for the Future: Humanist Chaplains in 2020

An Introduction

A Humanist is someone whose knowledge is acquired through reason and science, who lives an ethical life based on empathy and compassion, and who strives to build a kinder, fairer and more reasonable society. We are champions of human rights and human flourishing, and promote the well-being of the earth and all its inhabitants through sustainable development. Humanism isn’t a faith. We don’t have a creed, though there are several manifestos and declarations outlining the humanistic worldview. There is a wide range of philosophical thought within Humanist communities and we are proud of our diversity. We embrace uncertainty and respectful dialogue, and draw from a long and rich history of humanistic thought going back to ancient times.

In this vein, thousands of Humanists are working across Europe (and increasingly in North America) in ‘secular ministries’ as Non-Religious Pastoral Carers and Humanist Chaplains in hospitals, prisons and universities, as funeral, wedding and naming celebrants, as leaders of humanist communities or ‘congregations’, as ethical business consultants and as advisors and speakers in schools and colleges. However, in many countries this work is still in its infancy or adolescence and there is much still to do to develop and establish these roles and to meet the needs which they seek to address.

It seems an ideal moment therefore to take stock and reflect on how far we have come (both individually and collectively) and on what we hope to achieve. Thus, I decided to send out a call for answers to ten relevant questions, initially to fellow Humanist Chaplains. Below are the first few sets of responses, with my answers in the mix as well (brief bios at the end). Whether you are involved in this kind of work or not, I hope you find our stories intriguing, uplifting and inspiring!

 Anastasia E. Somerville-Wong

 

1. What were your childhood and adolescent experiences of belief, religion, philosophy and spirituality?

James Croft (US)

I grew up in a nonreligious household. However, my school had a Christian foundation, and as a member of the chapel choir I sang regularly in church services throughout my teenage years. I enjoyed the ritual and the sense of significance church services offered, while never believing in any of the specific religious claims being made.

Gerardene Douglas-Scott (Scotland, UK) 

I was born in the west of Scotland into a Roman Catholic family of Irish origin. My family were not particularly religious but I adopted it seriously from the age of 11, when I decided to become a missionary nun. My whole life was full of it. I loved the rituals, the smells, the symbolism, singing in the choir, leading the singing, going to the obscure services like ‘Devotions”. I loved it all. When 16 I set up a meditation prayer group and then attended “One World Movement” weekends which were great fun as a teenager. Shared prayer, walking meditations, dancing and of course ‘heavy petting’…

I went to Stirling University to study Religious Studies and Spanish. I became the chair of the parish council and led the singing and played the guitar in true ‘Kumbaya” style for 3 years.  Then I went off to the convent in Dublin called the Sacred heart of Jesus and Mary sisters, a teaching order. I knew within a few weeks that I had made a mistake. The three vows of poverty, chastity and obedience were never going to sit well with me (LOL!). Poverty: the nuns were spending piles of money on ‘lay’ clothes, discarding their habits at that time. Obedience: well, no one will ever be able to tell me what to do I’m afraid! Chastity: well, if the church was to be believed my hands would have fallen off, never mind my head, having had an affair with a catholic priest for 5 years!

I became the first Catholic RE Specialist in Scotland, married the physics teacher and had three children. I lasted 2 years teaching – I did not believe a single thing I was saying to the teenage girls especially. My wonderful children went to a catholic school. I knew it was wrong for them and they were bullied badly for their LGBT sexuality. Then there was the poverty thing again – we had very little material possessions and certainly couldn’t pay money to the church every Sunday.

One day (around 1985), I knelt down in my living room and said “God, that was good in the main, but no thanks”. I never looked back, though I did miss the ritual and the community (though not the community of nuns of course).

Tim Maguire (Scotland, UK)

I was raised a catholic, sent to fee-paying schools run by Christian Brothers and Benedictine monks. Both Scotus Academy and the Abbey School Fort Augustus have since been implicated in the abuse of children – other than being regularly beaten often for the most trivial of offences, I can’t remember that happening to me. I do however remember intensely hating being at both schools and resolving on leaving that I would never again allow myself to stay anywhere I was unhappy or be forced to do things against my will. On the upside of the ledger, I am grateful for my understanding of Latin and Greek, and I enjoyed singing in the choir, not least because once a year it gave me the chance to meet girls of my own age.

Anastasia Somerville-Wong (England, UK)

I was brought up in a non-religious home in West London and moved in very multi-cultural and multi-faith circles. My schools were Roman Catholic and Anglican but I was never satisfied with their ‘arguments from authority’ – this or that is true because I’ve told you so or the church says so or because it’s written in this or that book etc. I was always very ‘deep’ for my age, questioning everything (which sometimes got me into trouble!), and interested in what could be learnt about the world and about practical wisdom from science and the world’s philosophical and faith traditions. I was an agnostic, until in later childhood I decided the evidence for a god just wasn’t forthcoming, and since I wasn’t agnostic about the existence of fairies, I decided the rational thing to do was to commit to atheism.

However, in my late teens I experienced severe anxiety, and when I hit ‘rock bottom’, I had a sudden and life-changing ‘mystical’ experience of overwhelming love and the promise of healing, which at the time I attributed to some kind of divinity. I began avidly reading religious literature and soon after that I became a devout Christian, albeit a very ecumenical one. I remained so until my mid-twenties, when I became rapidly disillusioned with orthodox faith; with its lack of evidence, its inconsistencies and the cognitive dissonance required to believe in its dogmas on the one hand and navigate the real world on the other. I found it extremely liberating and far healthier when, for the sake of intellectual and emotional integrity (sanity, even), I chose to stick to reason and science alone and also to follow my heart – my compassion for all those human beings who do not fit the norms and requirements of religious orthodoxy. I began a PhD in historical theology, which gave me the time to research the history of Christianity, and religious traditions, texts and contexts more broadly, and to test their claims at much greater depth. This accelerated my journey to a Progressive Christian position, and soon after that, I settled in what was effectively Humanism with a Christian flavour.

I still maintain close associations with the Humanist-embracing groups that have emerged from orthodox Christianity such as the Progressive Christians, British Quakers, Quaker Universalists, Unitarians and Unitarian Universalists. I have also been engaged since childhood in aspects of Secular/Philosophical Buddhism, and in more recent years, I have developed an interest and connection with Humanistic Judaism. Having been a bit Stoic for many years, I have also enjoyed the renewed interest in this area brought about by Modern Stoicism. While Humanism is the best fit for my beliefs and values, I continue to take inspiration from the insights and practices of many of the world’s faiths and philosophical traditions.

2. What led you to Humanism and then to Humanist Chaplaincy?

James Croft (US)

I started self-identifying as a Humanist in my late teens, after reading the Humanist Manifesto 2 in university. I found in that Manifesto a clear expression of the values by which I already lived my life.

Gerardene Douglas-Scott (Scotland UK) 

In 2002 I went to a funeral. It was Joe Hughes RIP, one of the first Humanist celebrants. Never had I wanted to do something so much in my life. Until that point, I had been a Public Health Specialist but latterly was NHS Adviser to the Scottish Government in involving people in the design, delivery and monitoring of care. I called it “Involving People”. The government called it “Public Involvement”. I decided that the change in perspective was not what I wanted. I very much enjoyed providing the secretariat to the Spiritual Care Guidance developed in the government at that time. The MEL (Management Executive Letter) of 2002 that I was part of developing, has become a beacon for many to differentiate and highlight spiritual care (and religious care within that). I left the government in 2003 and completed the two weekends of training to be a Humanist Chaplain. A few months later, I undertook a full-time Post-Graduate Diploma in Person Centred Counselling – a humanistic approach to therapy.

I wanted to speak my truth and decided that life was too short for anything else. I wanted to walk alongside people at the transition times in life. Funerals and celebrating and ‘marking’ peoples’ lives became my passion.  I belonged to the large Humanist organisation and was probably one of their busiest celebrants. I was around the 13^th celebrant to be trained. I remember them hoping they would get to 30 and then aim towards 50. Since then many humanist organisations have sprung up in Scotland and there are many hundreds of celebrants in here now.  My partner trained in 2008 to be a humanist celebrant and we were the first women to be married in Scotland at midnight on 31/12/14. (It was a Registrar and not a humanist sadly – but that is another story that involved humanist mal-politics and hurt us very much).

We set up Celebrate People in 2019 after a few years with a different Humanist organisation to provide humanist empathy, compassion, love and equality to all. We embrace pluralism and spiritual care as part of our humanist approach to life.  (www.celebratepeople.co.uk). Our statement of belief is on the website.

Tim Maguire (Scotland, UK)

I was married in a humanist ceremony just before they became legal in 2005 and the celebrant suggested I train. I thought about it for about 40 seconds and agreed. Until stumbling across humanism because I wanted a meaningful ceremony, I had associated the word with Erasmus and the Renaissance. On discovering that humanism offered a moral and ethical framework for a good and worthwhile life without god, I stopped being what I called a Recovering Catholic and embraced humanism with all the enthusiasm of a convert.

Anastasia Somerville-Wong (England, UK)

I seem to have explained already how I came to Humanism! Humanist chaplaincy was a natural progression from my previous work. I’ve always felt my particular suite of skills and talents was well suited to ‘ministry’ of some kind but unless you are an orthodox religious believer that path is closed to you in the UK. Even the so-called ‘broad churches’ are not welcoming to progressives/humanists when it comes to ordained ministry, and I hadn’t been a member of a Unitarian Church so there didn’t seem to be anywhere where I could fulfil my vocation. Academia, with its focus on research, education and pastoral care was another great fit. I undertook several post-doctoral research and teaching fellowships but as you may have heard, academic career paths have been completely undermined by the actions of previous generations and successive governments. It’s pretty much impossible to get a secure academic position at a university, especially if you are a woman and primary carer of young children. I can’t just drop everything every six months or so to take up whatever fixed-term post happens to come up somewhere or other in the world. Also, these posts are on professors’ projects and do not develop upon one’s own work. They are often exploitative and lead nowhere. It’s really sad to see our universities lose out on so much younger talent because of the greed of a few but there it is!

It was exciting to discover that Humanists UK was training people in pastoral care and enabling them to become Humanist Pastoral Care Volunteers in hospitals, prisons and universities. Even though there are currently no paid positions for them at universities, I hoped that this might change in the future. The broader ministerial role of chaplain appealed to me even more. I had many years of experience as an educator, mentor and pastoral carer in higher education and other settings, and I knew there hadn’t yet been a Humanist Chaplain at the university near where I lived, so I began negotiations with the Multi-Faith Chaplaincy there. Its full-time Anglican chaplain had been hostile to Humanism but she had recently left and the chaplaincy had come under restructure with the appointment of a Chaplaincy Co-ordinator and greater university supervision. It turned out my approach was perfectly timed! I had already undertaken the assessment and training in pastoral care with Humanists UK and was an accredited member of the Non-Religious Pastoral Support Network. I became the first Humanist Chaplain at the University of Exeter on 30^th January 2020, and was just getting stuck in when the pandemic and lockdown struck!

3. What books, authors, thinkers, activists or previous chaplains have inspired you and why?

James Croft (US)

Carl Sagan, probably the greatest communicator of the Humanist worldview ever, with a capacity to express the wonder of the universe in a quasi-religious way without supernaturalism. Philip Pullman, the Humanist novelist par excellence. Kate Lovelady, senior Leader at the Ethical Society of St. Louis, where I work, who has taught me so much about being Humanist clergy. Robert Ingersoll, the Great Agnostic, for his rousing speeches and ability to sway people to freethought at a time when it was almost unknown.

Gerardene Douglas-Scott (Scotland, UK) 

Carl Rogers and the core conditions: Empathy, Unconditional Positive Regard and Congruence is my main influencer.

Tim Maguire (Scotland, UK)

None specifically in terms of Chaplaincy. I often quote AC Grayling when I’m conducting funerals, and Stephen Law when trying to give a short and coherent account of what humanists believe. I’m a fan of both Philip Pullman and Jim Al Khalili – again someone whose view of what humanism represents chimes with me. These two quotations encapsulate it:

“My view is that if you focus on what’s bad about religion that doesn’t serve any purpose. For a lot of people religion is vitally important, it creates social cohesion in communities and offers comfort. As long as it doesn’t affect me or offend me it’s fine. Get on with it.”

 “…I think, that humankind’s fate and future is in its own hands. The reason why we strive for a better world and to be good is not because some old scripture or mythology tells me that I’ll be rewarded if I’m good and punished if I’m bad. But because being good defines me as a human. Anyone who wants to be good because they think they should be, not because their religion tells them to be, for me is a humanist.”

https://newhumanist.org.uk/articles/4070/facing-the-future-an-interview-with-jim-al-khalili

Anastasia Somerville-Wong (England, UK)

There are too many books and authors to mention. Rather than bore you with lists of books, talks and articles that have been meaningful to me over the years, I’ll just mention some of my favourite people when it comes to various aspects of contemporary Humanism. These include scientists like Biological Anthropologist Alice Roberts and Astrophysicists Carl Sagan and Neil deGrasse Tyson, Historians like Yuval Noah Harari and Karen Armstrong, the psychologist and broadcaster Margaret Knight, behavioural psychologists/economists like Daniel Kahneman, Richard Thaler and Cass Sunstein, Philosophers like A. C. Grayling, Alain de Botton and Sam Harris, Activists like Greta Thunberg, Malala Yousafzai and Yasmine Mohammed, ecologists like Rachel Carson, Stephen Kellart and Arvay Clemens and humanist creatives like Gene Roddenberry and Phillip Pullman.

I’ve chosen these people because their thinking, values and goals resonate with my own and I admire their work. I’m rather too independent-minded to call myself a fan or follower of anyone, and I haven’t had the experience of one particular book or author changing my life. My children are young and demanding so I don’t get much time to read for pleasure. I do a lot of sneaky skimming of short articles and reviews and listening to interviews in the background while I’m working or keeping my kids busy! I tend to spend any precious free time doing more focused research into areas that have not been thoroughly explored yet. As an academic historian by training (and in some sense by nature), I am researching the history of humanistic ‘ministries’ and the history of chaplaincy more specifically. History, especially applied history relating to aspects of my current work as a chaplain, is an important part of my reflective practice.

Over the years I have also taken inspiration from progressive Buddhist thinkers and I welcome the contemporary Secular Buddhism movement led by Noah Rasheta. I have also admired the work of Progressive Christian ministers I have known personally and worked alongside in the churches. The latter were mostly people who had moved to a more humanistic position later in their career, having already established themselves in ordained ministry in various denominations. A few were trained in more progressive and universalist traditions.

4. What studies, training, qualifications and accreditations do you have, which help or are required for the role of Humanist Chaplain?

James Croft (US)

I am an Ethical Culture Leader (Leader is the formal title of clergy in the Ethical Culture movement), and that requires a number of years of academic and practical training akin to ordination in other traditions. I also have an EdM and EdD from the Harvard Graduate School of Education, where I studied Human Development, which informed my work in numerous ways.

Gerardene Douglas-Scott (Scotland, UK) 

BA in Religious Studies, PostGradDip in Counselling, Celebrate People accreditation, currently studying for Diploma in Pastoral Care Supervision and Reflective Practice…

Tim Maguire (Scotland, UK)

I’m an honorary unpaid chaplain at the University of Edinburgh. I was appointed to the chaplaincy team in 2013 and I was an unpaid ‘belief contact’ for five years before that. My honours degree from the same university has no direct relevance to my work as a chaplain: I’d like to think that having been in post for seven years without complaint, I must be doing something right even if I’ve had no training, but I’m sure there is more I could learn.

Anastasia Somerville-Wong (England, UK)

I have a PhD in Historical Theology from the University of Aberdeen and an MA (Hons) in Philosophy and Politics from the University of Edinburgh. I have also completed postdoctoral research fellowships at the Universities of Exeter and Plymouth, and an associate lectureship at the University of Aberdeen. Most of my work has been on inter-disciplinary projects covering a wide range of subjects including heritage studies, digital humanities, law, English literature and environmental studies and all have shaped my current approach to humanistic philosophy and practice in some way or another. In 2019, I underwent an assessment and training in pastoral care with Humanists UK, a membership organisation of the Network for Pastoral, Spiritual and Religious Care in Health, and am an accredited member of the Non-Religious Pastoral Support Network.

My experience in research, education, pastoral care and mentoring probably counts as much as my qualifications and accreditations when it comes to this work. In terms of pastoral care and mentoring, I have provided this not only in higher education but also in hospitals, care homes, schools, youth clubs and community centres in a variety of volunteering roles over the years. I have also worked in child protection social work and on community projects for areas of deprivation, which were very enlightening.

5. What are the particular needs of those people and institutions you serve and of people in the UK/US more generally, and how do you endeavour to meet those needs?

James Croft (US)

I don’t primarily serve university students or staff – I serve a whole congregation of people of many ages – although I am part of the Interfaith Campus Ministers’ Association at Washington University. My general sense is that college students who are not traditionally religious often lack any structured way to explore the spiritual, existential, and ethical aspects of life, and I think it’s our role to provide ways for them to do that which parallel the resources religious students have at their disposal.

Gerardene Douglas-Scott (Scotland, UK) 

As humanist and secular chaplaincy takes hold in Further Education and the NHS, there is a need for more Pastoral Care courses or accredited courses in chaplaincy recognised by UKBHC.

Tim Maguire (Scotland, UK) 

There is a very small (and declining) humanist and atheist group at the University of Edinburgh. They ask little of me other than to talk to them once a year. As a chaplain most of my one-to-one sessions have been with students and staff who don’t identify as humanist but who are not religious. Having said that, I have been asked for help directly by religious students, so it’s hard to generalise about student or staff needs other than that they need to be listened to and helped.

Anastasia Somerville-Wong (England, UK)

The needs of students and staff at universities are many and complex. Students frequently look for general life guidance, mentoring, signposting, a reassuring human contact and someone who will listen.

The issues we tend to come across include mental health problems, relationship problems, loneliness, isolation and a lack of belonging, fear and uncertainty about the future (due to economic issues, increasing inequality, Brexit, the pandemic etc.), a lack of clarity of purpose/vocation, a lack of opportunities for ethical and spiritual growth and development, financial problems like student (and other) debt, political polarization and conflict (e.g. between LGBTQ+ and orthodox/evangelical religious groups on campus), more general issues of fundamentalism, political extremism and radicalization, the marginalization of vulnerable groups, issues of consent, abuse/discrimination against women on campus, drug and alcohol addiction/abuse, issues around free speech (some students call for ‘safe spaces’ and the ‘no-platforming’/censorship of speakers whose views offend them), and a lack of religious/worldview literacy including a low awareness of Humanism and all it can offer.

There is also an increasing need for secular or Humanist ceremony/ritual on campuses. Some humanist chaplains are trained funeral, wedding or naming celebrants but the events are different at universities. There is a need for greater input from humanist chaplains in predominantly secular ceremonies such as graduations and memorials, and in ‘inter-faith weeks’ and other celebrations of diversity, and there is much scope for creating new events and rituals around a Secular/Humanist Calendar.

6. What are the different aspects of your role and how would you weight their importance? (Is a Chaplains role primarily one of pastoral care, nurturing spirituality in young people, community building, the creation of rituals, seasonal events or habits of reflective practice, educating and improving knowledge of humanism and comparative religion and philosophy, presiding over secular ceremonies such as memorial and graduation services, policy development, advocating for vulnerable or oppressed individuals/groups or political and social activism?)

James Croft (US)

I do everything in the list you provide, though some with more energy than others. I am the Outreach Leader at the Ethical Society, meaning I’m more focused in growing the community and expressing our values in public – I’m the evangelical one =P. We also create many educational programs to help people better understand our tradition.

Gerardene Douglas-Scott (Scotland, UK) 

All of the above!  The most important is empathy.

I live in Glasgow with my wife, Susan. We are both celebrants and non-religious family chaplains and have been together for twenty years. After a year together, we exchanged vows and rings privately, then in 2006 we had a civil partnership, and then we were the first women to be married at the stroke of midnight on the December, 31, 2014. We feel very blessed because we have always been very close, but we understand that’s because we’ve always made the effort to work on our own personal development and on our relationship. We also married two other couples, who are women, on that night. We had our family and friends around us and it was a night that made us very proud to be Scottish.

We both trained to become authorised humanist celebrants, but our work has evolved to encapsulate so many other aspects of caring and compassion. Whatever we do that’s the two things it boils down to – it’s how we live our lives, with lots of fun too of course. To describe ourselves as humanist celebrants doesn’t cover everything we have come to do, but in our celebrant work we conduct weddings, funerals and naming ceremonies, and that brings so much life through our door. We encounter every walk of life, and deal with every kind of situation, and it’s not always straightforward. It’s very important to be sensitive to what people are going through and to support them with love. For one family we might perform weddings and also their family funerals. The relationships we build with people are very intimate, every day we get to be up close with the very things that life is about. We think the work that we do has made us realise what’s important in life. We also get to spend a lot of quality time together in our work and in supporting each other.

What we do reaches out to everyone, regardless of who they are, where they come from or what they do. Susan takes that forward in her other work where she’s instrumental in influencing public policy around disability, equality and health and social care. It’s been a thread throughout her career and it’s hugely important to her. I am also a person-centred counsellor, and it’s a therapeutic extension to my other work.

We have five grown up children together, who we raised in our family home where we still live. We are very proud of them. They are all good people and it’s wonderful to be able to say we are friends with them. We are incredibly privileged in our work and in our personal lives. We never take each other for granted and we work really hard to live in the moment, to continue this wonderful journey together. Today’s the day we know we have.

Tim Maguire (Scotland, UK) 

Pastoral care, community building, the creation of rituals, presiding over secular ceremonies such as graduation, memorial and other services, policy development, advocating for vulnerable or oppressed individuals/groups, political and social activism, educating and improving knowledge of humanism and comparative religion and philosophy, seasonal events or habits of reflective practice, nurturing spirituality in young people: and like Gerrie, I believe that empathy is the well-spring of all of this.

Anastasia Somerville-Wong (England, UK)

The role of Humanist Chaplain is very varied. In addition to pastoral care, which is primarily about listening and using ‘counselling-type’ conversation skills, it includes advocacy and signposting for individuals and groups who are vulnerable or in crisis, and the wider nurturing of ethical engagement and reflective practices. It involves organising social events that deepen human connections and build community. As Humanist Chaplain, I will be responsible for the creation and leadership of secular services, rituals and celebrations.

Education is an important aspect of the role, especially as I have an academic background and am engaged in related research. I aim to improve knowledge of Humanism, its history and variety of expressions, and to improve knowledge of comparative religion and philosophy. Chaplains are often sought after by the media for their views and guidance when there are traumatic events, disputes and ethical controversies on campus. We also play a significant role in policy development at our hosting institutions. My role will also be to support student societies and work collaboratively with academic staff and other chaplains.

Those who have an existing understanding of what a chaplain is and what a humanist is (many do not!) are often struck with the impression that the term “Humanist Chaplain” is an oxymoron. Indeed, chaplaincy grew out of the Christian tradition and I appreciate this heritage. However, there is a great deal of continuity between Christian Chaplaincy and Humanist Chaplaincy, since the role has long been developing in a humanistic direction due to the influence of secular/humanist ethics in wider society and the progress of liberal theology in the mainstream churches. Indeed, right from its inception, chaplaincy was a means for the church to take a more humanistic, compassionate approach to people in the midst of real-life crises.

Chaplaincy involves putting aside one’s own agendas and prejudices to meet the immediate needs of real people in real-life situations that are often messy and complex. Empathy and compassion for other humans, whoever they are, is essential, along with respect for people’s individual beliefs and values. There is no room for dogmatism and proselytising when confronted with physical and mental health crises, with the consequences of crime and abuse, with bereavement and poverty, and in the case of military chaplains, with the realities of war. What could be more Humanist than a person-centred tradition with the humility to listen and learn from the evidence in front of you? Not all chaplains live up to this example but it has been the aspiration of many.

There are Humanists who prefer to be called Pastoral Support Volunteers or Humanist Advisors but these titles do not encompass the full breadth of the role. Something vital is lost when we cut ourselves off from our history, even if there are elements of that history we want to leave behind. I myself take inspiration not only from Humanist thought and practice but from the insights and practices of many of the world’s faiths and philosophical traditions. I appreciate their stories, music, art, architecture and practical wisdom, even while I do not subscribe to their dogma. Some Christian groups wholly embrace Humanists, such as the Quaker, Unitarian and Universalist traditions, and the Progressive Christianity movement. Other faiths also have progressive and humanistic streams, for example, Secular Buddhism and Humanistic Judaism. I myself have been a regular at Quaker Meetings and Buddhist meditations on and off over many years.

Since recently joining the Multi-faith Chaplaincy at the University of Exeter, I have been working on creating a library of humanist/humanistic literature on campus. I am on the regular duty rota for pastoral care, and post-Covid-19, I am hoping to starting a regular ‘Talk and Walk’ where people can meet and get to know each other while enjoying some fresh air and exercise. I’m also developing a new Secular/Inter-Faith Calendar, which is inclusive of humanists, progressive/non-theist religious and nonreligious people more generally, as well as publishing chaplaincy-relevant articles at www.secularliturgies.wordpress.com. I am an advocate for Humanists and non-religious people at Multi-Faith Chaplaincy meetings, and am enjoying getting to know the local Humanist community and the student and staff societies I hope to support. I am also developing a course on Humanism, writing a book, hoping to establish a Pluralism Centre or Pluralism Project at the university and trying to find ways of funding my work in the longer term so I can bring all these plans to fruition!

7. What are the other roles and affiliations you have regarding Humanist work? For example, in addition to being a Chaplain, are you also a Celebrant, or a campaigner, board member, broadcaster etc. and how are your roles integrated or complementary?

James Croft (US)

I create classes for the American Humanist Association’s Center for Education. I am also a celebrant and conduct tons of weddings, and am broadly involved in the Humanist movement in the USA and abroad.

Gerardene Douglas-Scott (Scotland, UK) 

I am a Director of Celebrate People.  We run retreats, provide counselling and are chaplains to 300k women travelling in the world (Girl Gone International).  We frequently speak at workplaces, interest groups and charities e.g. Rotary. We campaigned for Equal Marriage for over 20 years and our Marriage Certificate is displayed in the Scottish Parliament as a symbol of how ordinary people can influence the law.  We were also the face of the Scottish Human Rights campaign with the Equalities Minister. Our current campaign is with the Funeral Industry with the aim of planting trees to offset the carbon produced by cremation.

Tim Maguire (Scotland, UK) 

I’m a celebrant of 15 years standing, a campaigner and a writer:

https://timmaguire.co

I’ve had several articles published by The Guardian and other newspapers.

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/belief/2011/oct/04/humanism-the-h-factor

I also campaigned to open up Thought for the Day to humanists and – in partnership with the Guardian – created a series of podcasts called ‘Another Thought for the Day’

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/series/another-thought-for-the-day

I have addressed the Scottish Parliament,

https://timmaguire.co/2015/09/my-take-on-happiness-time-for-reflection-at-the-scottish-parliament.html and delivered three Remembrance Day ceremonies for the Scottish Government

https://www.heraldscotland.com/news/15654357.first-non-religious-remembrance-day-service-held-by-scottish-government/

I was a board member of the Humanist Society Scotland (before it became a company with professional management).

Anastasia Somerville-Wong (England, UK)

I am Founding Editor of the Secular Liturgies Network and Forum (SLN), a professional knowledge-exchange network, research initiative, publisher, think-tank, creative hub and events pioneer for humanists, progressives and non-theists. Its mission is to enrich societies with secular ethics and reflective practices, informed by the latest research, and expressed in original creative, scholarly and journalistic publications and events. The work has strong themes of well-being, sustainability, cultural enrichment and community building. The SLN, founded in 2018, is a culmination of my previous work as a published writer of liturgies and poetry, and my knowledge of history, theology, philosophy and comparative religion. It publishes original creative works of poetry, fiction and creative nonfiction, incisive journalistic articles including interview-style articles with experts and practitioners in relevant fields, and original research papers (which aim to be shorter and more widely engaging than traditional academic publications).

My research with the SLN is on secularism, humanism and other non-theist philosophical and faith traditions (and on chaplaincy itself!) so it’s very relevant to my role as Humanist Chaplain! I have a special interest in the impact of human belief and unbelief on our wellbeing, in terms of religious, non-religious and political world-views. I am also interested in the development of secular ethics, secular community, reflective practices, ritual, pastoral roles, and comparative religion and philosophy. I am currently researching the emergence of progressive religious reform movements, and the development of secular, humanist and inter-faith/universalist models of community. My paper entitled ‘Secular Liturgies’, was published in Secular Studies (Volume 1, Issue 2, October 2019), an international peer-reviewed journal (Brill).

I am also developing a course on the History of Humanism for students in higher education (with an adapted version for use in high schools). Training as a Humanist Funeral Celebrant may also be on the horizon, in part because I would like to develop the liturgical and ceremonial aspects of my role as chaplain and to be able to offer humanist memorials and other events to students and staff at the university.

8. How are Humanist Chaplaincy roles supported in the UK/US? (Are you sponsored? Are you funded/paid and by whom (or are you a volunteer)? Are you full or part-time? How secure is your post? Does your host institution provide you with training and oversight or is this provided by Humanist organisations?)

James Croft (US)

I’m a full-time employee of the Ethical Society, which is funded through the membership pledges of our members.

Gerardene Douglas-Scott (Scotland, UK) 

I am employed by the NHS in Scotland.  I am also a Pastoral Care Volunteer in a Hospice.

Tim Maguire (Scotland, UK) 

I am a part-time volunteer and have no sponsorship. As to how secure my post is, that’s a good question! Neither my organization nor the university provide training and oversight.

Anastasia Somerville-Wong (England, UK)

I am a part-time volunteer and an associate member of staff. I am sponsored by the Non-Religious Pastoral Support Network and Humanists UK but I receive no funding. Currently, the only paid university chaplains are those salaried by their faith denominations. By far the majority of Humanist Chaplains (in all settings) are volunteers and rely on other sources of income from humanist work as celebrants, from writing books, public speaking and sometimes from ethical business consultancy but more likely from other kinds of paid employment altogether.

There are increasing numbers of Humanist Chaplains in paid roles in hospitals and prisons in the UK, and at least one of our number, Lindsay van Dijk, leads an NHS chaplaincy team (I interviewed her previously – An Interview with Lindsay Van Dijk). Eventually, educational institutions will have to follow suit, since we are proving just how useful Humanist Chaplaincy and Non-Religious Pastoral Care can be. We need to make sure our roles are clear, professional and justifiable, providing evidence of their effectiveness in order to be accepted and valued by institutions and in order to secure the financial backing required to further develop this work. There is also the possibility that in the future, the universities and schools themselves will offer paid opportunities that are open to humanistic and inter-faith chaplains!

9. What are the key challenges for Humanist Chaplaincy in the UK/US, and relatedly, how is Humanist Chaplaincy received by your hosting institutions? (Including staff, service users/patients/students, faith Chaplains, religion and philosophy departments and wider society?)

James Croft (US)

I think on many campuses it is simply a challenge to get a foot in the door. Convincing campuses that humanists and nonreligious students have the same needs as religious students can be very difficult. I was recently kicked off a campus interfaith chaplaincy team specifically for being a Humanist, so I know how difficult it can be to make the case!

Gerardene Douglas-Scott (Scotland, UK) 

People are very receptive in Scotland. They are so familiar with Humanist Funerals. I often hear people say “That’s brilliant, most people in this hospital/ward are not religious.”

Interestingly the situation for Chaplains in NHS Scotland is different. Chaplaincy is generic and not denominational, so strictly speaking there is no such thing as a “Humanist Chaplain” or a “Sikh Chaplain” etc.

The key challenge I believe is to build up a body of evidence for chaplaincy in general and a body of work that underpins that. It is all still too “fluffy” and set in the past.  Modern Chaplaincy needs good academic and evidence-based acceptability and standing and needs to be worthy of support.

Tim Maguire (Scotland, UK) 

The key challenges are funding and persuading institutions that it’s time to change!

I would say Humanist Chaplaincy is received very positively by the university, in the sense that I think people feel that the appointment of a humanist chaplain gives parity of esteem. I was (and remain) the first ever to be appointed at the University of Edinburgh, and it’s encouraging that Napier University (also in Edinburgh) reached out to me when looking to appoint an honorary humanist chaplain there last year. That role is being performed by my Celebrate People colleague Sharon Campbell.

Anastasia Somerville-Wong (England, UK)

There is lack of understanding of Humanism at institutions and sometimes a reluctance or slowness to change procedures in order to accommodate non-Christian and nonreligious groups who do not have local church structures and congregations. However, universities as secular institutions themselves, are increasingly becoming aware and open to the idea of nonreligious and humanist pastoral care, reflective practices, rituals and celebrations.

My greatest challenge is to find ways of engaging with a wider body of students and staff. Among my own generation but more-so among the generations that follow, people are very often reluctant to subscribe to a particular worldview or join a ‘faith and belief’ group. Others embrace a multi-layered identity, rather like I have done, but I think we are in a minority. Meanwhile, a much smaller number of young people find themselves drawn to the religious fervour and dogmatism of the orthodox and evangelical/fundamentalist traditions.

I see my task as primarily reaching out to the former two groups, the ‘nones’ and what I’m calling the ‘multiples’, in terms of participation in humanist activities, not because we are concerned with numbers but because these activities encourage reflective and critical thought, deepen ethical understanding and practical wisdom, encourage and inspire creativity, support many noble and urgent causes including human rights and sustainability, and have the potential to contribute hugely to student and staff well-being. As a Duty Chaplain, however, I am of course available to provide pastoral care for all, regardless of their beliefs and affiliations. We are not interested in conversion like a faith group would be but we are interested in being useful by helping individuals to live more meaningful, ethical and fulfilling lives and by building communities at universities and schools where young people can really grow and flourish and feel they belong.

10. What is your vision or hope for Humanist Chaplaincy moving forward both at your institution and more generally? (e.g. Humanist Chaplaincy in schools, prisons, hospitals, the military, workplaces etc.)

James Croft (US)

I think it is essential that on every campus there are resources for all students to engage with the spiritual, existential, and ethical aspects of life. Since these aspects are deeply tied to one’s religious view, I think that means there has to be resources both for religious students of all types, and nonreligious/Humanist students as well.

Gerardene Douglas-Scott (Scotland, UK) 

My vision is that everyone has a choice of who they want to support them at the challenging times in life – when they are questioning their meaning, purpose or values.  I believe in the amazing potential for Humanist Spiritual Care Chaplaincy to offer what people need at the right time, in the right place, and for the right reason. This is a point in time where there are so many possibilities.  We have to work toward a body of evidence to make it stick!  In the meantime, it is wonderful just to walk with people wherever or whoever they are.

Tim Maguire (Scotland, UK) 

My hope is that humanist chaplains will come to be accepted more widely: the example of Northern Ireland’s prison service is especially encouraging as is the appointment of Gerrie Douglas-Scott as the first paid humanist chaplain in the NHS in Scotland. Being a full-time chaplain would be rewarding and I am sure that there are many eminently suitable candidates waiting in the wings to take on that role.

Anastasia Somerville-Wong (England, UK)

I would like to see the role of Humanist Chaplain better established at universities and would like to see it take root in colleges and schools as well. Funding is the biggest factor determining whether or not we will achieve our aims, since we cannot rely only on wealthy and retired people who can afford to work as volunteers. We must create paid opportunities for mid-life and younger people who have sufficient relevant experience and qualifications for the pastoral care, educational and other demands of the role. I am constantly aware of how much more I could be doing if only my work was remunerated and I could arrange for childcare and better support my own family. I do occasional/seasonal paid jobs as a speaker, writer, tutor and examiner but my situation is far from ideal and very precarious!

With both my academic and chaplain hats on, I am hoping to establish a cross-disciplinary Pluralism Project or Pluralism Centre at the University of Exeter, a bit like the one at the University of Harvard but better suited to the European and British contexts. It will go beyond tolerance or relativism to encourage respectful inter-faith/philosophical dialogue, with the aim of reaching mutual understanding, strengthening common values and achieving common goals for the betterment of society. With continued secularisation – brought about not least by generational replacement – and the steadily increasing interest of secular institutions in appointing Humanist Chaplains, the future for us looks promising.

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Dr. James Croft (USA)

James Croft is Outreach Director of the Ethical Society of St. Louis, one of the largest Humanist congregations in the world. In that capacity he represents the Ethical Society and Humanism in the St. Louis community and beyond, speaking on panels, giving workshops, and taking to the streets in defense of Humanist values.

James is also part of the Interfaith Campus Ministers’ Association at Washington University. He holds an MA from the University of Cambridge and an EdD from the Harvard Graduate School of Education, where he studied Human Development. He is an in-demand public speaker, an engaging teacher, and a passionate activist for human rights. James was raised on Shakespeare, Sagan and Star Trek, and is a proud, gay Humanist.

Gerardene Douglas-Scott (UK, Scotland)

Gerardine is a Health and Social Care Chaplain (NHS Ayrshire and Arran), Person Centred Counsellor and Marriage Celebrant.

Website: http://www.humanistweddingscotland.com

FaceBook:  www.facebook.com/humanistweddingscotland 

Twitter: @humanistscot

Tim Maguire (UK, Scotland)

Tim is Honorary Chaplain to the University of Edinburgh and a Marriage Celebrant authorised to conduct legal weddings in Scotland.

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/humanistweddingsinscotland
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/humanisto

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/humanisttim/

More about Celebrate People: http://celebratepeople.co.uk

Dr. Anastasia E. Somerville-Wong (England, UK)

Anastasia became the first Humanist Chaplain at the University of Exeter in January 2020. She is also Founding Editor of the Secular Liturgies Network and Forum and an Assessment Specialist (Examiner in History) at the University of Cambridge. Anastasia has a PhD in Historical Theology from the University of Aberdeen and an MA (Hons) in Philosophy and Politics from the University of Edinburgh.

University profile: https://www.exeter.ac.uk/chaplaincy/humanist/

Secular Liturgies Network and Forum: www.secularliturgies.wordpress.com

Progressive Christianity: An Interview with Adrian Alker

Progressive Christianity has a long and rich history rooted in liberal theology and the humanist ethical perspectives that have shaped modern secular societies. It was a pleasure, therefore, to interview Adrian Alker, Chair of Progressive Christianity Network (Britain) on his experience and contribution to the growing progressive movement in the UK.

Dr Anastasia E. Somerville-Wong (Interviewer)

Adrian Alker, Chair, Progressive Christianity Network

What were your early experiences of Christian faith and practice?

I grew up in Lancashire in the 1950s when the Christian church, of all denominations, was very accepted and well attended, and when most of the kids at my grammar school were, if they were C of E, confirmed at about the age of 12. There was little evidence in the suburb where I grew up and went to the local church, of any other religion. Indeed a ‘mixed marriage’ meant that between catholic and protestant.

The local church had strong community links, big Sunday schools, youth clubs, organisations for men and women etc. We didn’t discuss much theology in those days. We just accepted the liturgy and the words of the Prayer Book without thinking. There was little talk of being an atheist (God forbid!), and church was just an accepted part of the rhythm of life, with its festivals, rites of passage and place in the community.

It was mainly at university, studying history, that I began seriously reflecting upon the nature of sacred books, and began a life-long search for the ‘truth’ about God, Jesus  and all those particular tenets of belief. I think it would be fair to say that until I was in my early twenties, I just went along with what the church taught, sang the hymns and said the creeds, albeit with a growing sense of scepticism, and I went on with my career in education and my social life! I felt a strong sense that the church was a force for good and that Jesus was a superb exemplar of goodness.

How did you become involved with the Progressive Christianity movement?

During my twenties, I was increasingly attracted by those more liberal voices, which dared to ask more critical questions about God and Christianity – figures such as Bishop John Robinson, who had written Honest to God back in the 1960s but also people like Bishop Jack Spong, David Jenkins, and theologians like John Hick. I decided to train for Anglican ministry because I still felt the parish church was doing good things! Bishop David Sheppard, whom I greatly admired as my bishop at Liverpool, suggested I go to Ripon College Cuddesdon and it was there in the late 1970’s that I was influenced by critical thinkers and writers, and I came out of college as a defined ‘liberal’. During my ministry I allied myself to liberal causes such as the ordination of women. But it was whilst I was vicar of St Marks church in Broomhill Sheffield, that I sharpened up in a progressive way! The church served the university area and was a hub of ideas and progressive thinking.

During this time – the 1990’s – the progressive Christian networks in the USA  had developed and their ‘guru’ Revd Jim Adams, rector of St Marks Capitol Hill in Washington, came over to the UK. Having met with him and with Bishop Jack Spong, the PCN network here was born. So I was in at the outset and can remember one of our initial gatherings at St Faith’s Church in South Dulwich London.

What does it mean to you to be a Progressive Christian in terms of both belief and practice?

Wow, that’s a big question! I think many PCN members, including me, would say that belief is not so important if, by that, we are talking about a kind of ‘enforcing’ religion. Marcus Borg has much to say about this. For two thousand years the church has codified its beliefs and expected conformity and obedience to them, despite the fact that so many elements, say in the creeds of the church, have very dodgy truth claims (for example, virgin birth, physical resurrection and ascension etc.)

I would want a progressive faith to be able to ask all the big questions about faith and belief, to have the ability to read the Bible intelligently, to seek for historical truth and to allow our experiences to speak to our faith. So orthopraxis rather than orthodoxy is important to me, as it was, I am sure, with Jesus of Nazareth! I want to hold a faith which is credible in this 21^st century, a faith which allows doubts and questions, is empathetic to other religions and searches for truth, and one which tries to make sense of our lives and our experiences of good and evil.

Which progressive (Christian or otherwise) writers and thinkers have inspired you the most and why?

I have already mentioned the likes of Robinson, Spong and  Borg. As a historian, I have been particularly interested in the work of the Jesus seminar in the USA and the many thinkers associated with that; people such as Dominic Crossan, Robert Funk and others. A lot of progressive theology comes to us from the USA, and from Germany. We can think today of younger people like Robin Meyers, Brian McClaren and others but in the search for the historical Jesus, one can go back over 200 years, and trace this line of critical thinkers back to people like Reimarus, who was writing in the eighteenth century, to Albert Schweitzer, then Kasemann and onwards.

Today there is much more emphasis of spirituality, on inter-religious writings, on meditation and wellness, and I think this is also important.

How compatible is progressive faith with becoming/being a priest in the Church of England?

Another tough question! Times change. The Church of England is still very much an hierarchical institution, especially when it comes to matters of belief, with bishops still very much on top of the pile, as it were! You swear obedience, as a priest, to the canons of the church and its forms of services, and all this implies an acceptance of doctrines etc. Some bishops are and have been more liberal than others, and you could be lucky and be in a diocese where the bishop is laid back if you are more liberal – even ‘heretical’ at times!

On the other hand, there have been notable instances where clergy have lost their licence because of what they have written or the type of services they have conducted. I have written about the need for a more radical and open minded church and for less conforming to stated beliefs but bishops, in the main,  are afraid of asking those bigger questions. However, they are on a loser because truth and honesty will and must rule the day! I think organisations like PCN are often seen as hostile to the church and clergy such as me as being the ‘enemy within’.

What have been the greatest highlights and challenges of your career as a progressive priest and leader within the movement? 

I have a lot of years to look back on! Certainly my most fulfilling years as a parish priest were at St Marks in Sheffield, where we were able to set up a Centre for Radical Christianity, organising conferences and inviting speakers from all over the world to come and address enthusiastic radical-thinking folk! The challenge was in marrying this to the important and more bread-and-butter work of a parish cleric, seeking to reach out to all and sundry, helping to make the church an open minded, welcoming community, and offering liturgy which was far from dull and which could speak to people at different stages of life.

It has been good to be part of a movement which enabled like-minded people to come together and to find friendship, and often solace, whereas for many liberally minded churchgoers, they could face isolation and hostility from the more conservative elements in their church. It has been of some comfort to see how, in some respects, the churches have become more inclusive and willing to rethink their position, eg. on gender and sexuality matters, on the ordination of women and on the social justice agenda.

Where do you stand in the debate among progressives on the continued use of religious language e.g. words like God, worship, prayer and so forth? Do such words still have meaning and value or are they too much associated with old dogmas and superstitions?

You’re right that the word God is a real problem in that so much of the discourse about God is wrapped in anthropomorphic language. The central prayer of the church talks of ‘our father in heaven’ so we have struggled in this modern age with issues of gender-infused language in regard to God and this basic image of a masculine/human-characterised God affects everything, including belief and doctrines.

And so, in the course of my ministry, when it comes to liturgy, I have tried to gradually widen our understanding of what ‘God’ might mean, using a multitude of images, many of which are already there in the scriptures and the Christian tradition. So in relationship to ‘prayer’, one can begin to get away from the idea of petitioning a sky -God with endless requests, and think of it more as entering into a silence and attuning one’s self to others, becoming aware of their needs and seeking to act.

Do you still use liturgical forms and/or scripts in your personal life or church setting, and if so, can you give examples?

I think you might want to look at some of the weekly liturgies being produced by churches like St marks Broomhill or St James Piccadilly or All Hallow Leeds, to get a grasp of what is possible, whilst still being part of the Anglican liturgical tradition.

Among Christian progressives, has social justice and reverence for the natural world become the new religion?

It used to be that many evangelical Christians thought that the ‘social gospel’ was not the ‘proper’ good news but more of an add-on to the conversion language, which is the hallmark of evangelicalism. I think the problem for many progressive churches, is that it does at times feel as if talking about social justice or the environment need not be grounded in Christian ethics and theology, which is a mistake.

How do you plan to continue contributing to the progressive movement?

Bishop Jack Spong continued to write, to tour and attract large crowds to hear him speak when he was well into his eighties, so I have plenty of time yet….

What do you see in terms of growth (or decline if relevant) in the progressive movement?

There is a clear difference between membership and the total activity of PCN. We have averaged about 700 members, which is quite large for a religious organisation like ours. Most members are middle-aged and upwards, and I think that is because many younger people don’t choose to join or belong to organisations. However, there is a great deal of activity via our social media and soon, probably, in our production of short films. Conferences are well attended, again in general by an older demographic. Visits to our website and our cooperation with other progressive agencies gives me, in general, cause for optimism. I think time and the argument is on our side!

What does progressive Christianity have to offer secular and multi-faith/multi-cultural societies going into the future?

The desire to dialogue, to truly get into other people’s shoes, to continue the honest search for truth. For example, we have recently held a successful conference on Religion and Atheism and are to have science and religion conference in the early summer. In all these ways we want progressive ideas about Christian faith to be aired in public and we want to face the tough questions.

Spirituality in Education: An Interview with Jacqueline Watson

I am delighted to share with you an interview with Jacqueline Watson, an Honorary Research Fellow at the University of Exeter, on her many years of research on the subject of spirituality in education, including connections between spirituality and Religious Education (RE), and the inclusion of Humanism in RE in the UK.

Jacqueline retired in 2014 and is putting her academic interest in spirituality into practice as a Humanist Celebrant and as a Humanist member of the Royal Devon and Exeter Hospital chaplaincy team. For more information about Jacqueline’s research and publications see Jacqueline Watson University of Exeter Research Profile.

Dr Jacqueline Watson

1. Who or what inspired you to forge a career in religious education?

Good question!  After 8 years looking after children (around 1989) I thought I’d do a PGCE but didn’t know what subject to choose (I had a philosophy degree) and a friend who was already doing a PGCE suggested RE.  I said I couldn’t teach RE as I wasn’t religious but she said she’d met PGCE RE students who were not religious and I found out that it was a multi-faith subject and it sounded fascinating.  Also, I’d just been reading Rushdie’s Satanic Verses which had sent me to the library to find out about Islam as I didn’t know why Muslims were burning the book in Bradford!

2. How has the teaching of religion changed over the course of your career?

Sadly, it has become more restrictive because, when I started in 1991, I taught a very multi-faith curriculum and now there tends, I think, to be more of a focus on 2 main religions one of which is Christianity and the other is often Islam.  I don’t know how true that is, and it presumably varies across the country, but that’s the feeling I have.  I actually stopped teaching RE over 15 years ago.  Also, of course, Humanism has been introduced into RE since I stopped teaching, although how much it is actually being taught in schools I don’t know.  I very recently contributed to a multi-faith conference for 3 schools locally – in my case, talking about Humanism – and none of the pupils from the 3 schools had studied Humanism or knew what it was.

3. What are the challenges faced by those with nonreligious (including humanist) and minority religious world-views in education?

There is no space to properly engage in discussion and exploration of their beliefs and values.  My feeling is that pupils will just switch off as RE will be seen to be irrelevant to them.  This also means they haven’t had the opportunity to consider their own spiritual journey.

4. In your view, should RE focus on improving objective knowledge of religious and philosophical traditions, beliefs and practices, or should its primary purpose be to nurture children’s spirituality?

Very much both.  We need basic information about religions and beliefs but we also need space to explore meaning and values for ourselves.

5. How is spirituality (or spiritual development) in children defined by professional bodies and what is your preferred definition?

I’ve written a lot about this.  I think it’s very important to keep any definition for professional purposes simple, broad and open.  There is a constant danger that people try to define it as they see it and not realising this is their particular view.  People’s spirituality is highly diverse today.  I say, spirituality means how a person develops meaning and purpose, beliefs and values, for their life.  It’s essential to listen to an individual because they will have constructed spiritual meaning and beliefs highly individualistically.

6. In what ways could the spiritual needs of children be better met in schools and at home?

Listening.  Giving space for open discussion.  Making sure RE isn’t just about teaching facts about specific religions.  Making sure Humanism is included as well to explore and challenge atheism and materialism/naturalism.

7. In what ways could religious and philosophical literacy be improved among children and the population at large?

More space for and respect for a broader RE.  Better media!

8. What are the most important or surprising things you have learnt from your research on the connections between spirituality and religious education?

That it is important to have a solid subject – currently RE although sometimes given a better name – where this area can be explored.  The idea was that opportunities for spiritual development could be provided in all subjects but I have come to think that it is vital to have a dedicated subject as it is a complicated topic.

9. What inspired you in more recent times to become a nonreligious pastoral carer and humanist celebrant?

Retirement partly.  And I’d spent about 25 years thinking about spirituality and non-religious spirituality academically, and I wanted to put that study into practice.  I feel that I do have some understanding of the breadth and individualism of contemporary spirituality which prepares me for listening to people who want a ceremony or pastoral care.  Having been a teacher and lecturer I had the confidence to be a celebrant and I love writing ceremonies.  I find it fascinating to take on the role of chaplain/pastoral carer which is a challenge in so many ways and – because we’re breaking new ground as non-religious carers – feels a bit like action research.

10. What are the main challenges and rewards of your current work?

Being a celebrant is rewarding – it’s wonderful to present a ceremony that engages people and makes them laugh and cry.  It’s frustrating that not enough people know about Humanist ceremonies and that we still can’t conduct weddings legally.  Being a chaplain/pastoral carer is very rewarding when people appear to have benefited from the opportunity to talk about their experiences, although it can be challenging not knowing whether I have been of benefit or not.  It’s very frustrating that Humanists and nonreligious chaplains are still not accepted across the board and the battle for recognition is a slow and frustrating one – but hugely vital as over 50% of the population are now ‘nones’!

Secular Buddhism: An Interview with Noah Rasheta

As someone with a life-long interest in Buddhist philosophy from a secular perspective, a leading figure of the Secular Buddhism movement was high on my list of prospective interviewees. I am delighted, therefore, to have had the opportunity to interview Noah Rasheta, a Buddhist teacher, lay minister, host of the podcast Secular Buddhism and author of a book with the same title.

Noah studies, embodies, and teaches the fundamentals of Buddhist philosophy, integrating Buddhist teachings with modern science, humanism, and humour. Please enjoy this audio and transcript and add your questions and comments below. The transcript includes extra material from our email exchanges so do have a read as well as listening.

I would like to mention here that Buddhism has a great deal to offer in terms of secular liturgy in the more literal sense, with its many stories, sayings and analogies. Many Buddhist teachings are presented in poetic, repetitive, reflective, and therefore liturgical, including those regularly used in their original or modified form by Secular Buddhists. I don’t think Noah thought of these as liturgy at the time of interview, which explains his answer to my question about liturgy but they certainly count as far as I am concerned. I’m sorry Noah if that wasn’t clear!

I am very grateful to Noah for taking time out of a very busy schedule to do this interview, and I hope my readers enjoy and engage with the content.

Best wishes to all, Anastasia

Noah Rasheta

Recording of Noah answering the questions

Transcript

Anastasia: What makes Secular Buddhism different from religious forms of Buddhism?

Noah: Well, good question. From my perspective, I don’t necessarily see Secular Buddhism as an off-shoot or an entirely different form of Buddhism, compared to religious forms of Buddhism. I see Secular Buddhism more as an approach that people can take to studying Buddhism, whether that is any form of religious Buddhism. The secular approach is essentially the secular minded person who’s digging in and saying well I want to find what is at the core of these practices or rituals or beliefs, and I think Buddhism offers a lot of rich and valuable concepts and teaching and ideas. The secular approach is just to explore that, without the need of entertaining any form of supernatural explanations, whether that be demons, or ghosts, or realms or things of that nature.

Now Buddhism, in and of itself, is quite secular in nature as far as the doctrines that are taught in Buddhism are concerned. However, Buddhism usually adapts, and it takes the flavour of whatever culture it gets spread to. You have schools of Buddhism from certain parts of the world that might seem very different from other forms of Buddhism, like Zen Buddhism as compared to Tibetan Buddhism, as an example, and in the West you have a secular population exploring Buddhism, and Buddhism has taken on a secular approach in that environment. In the same way, it takes on a less secular approach in a less secular environment. So, in that sense, Secular Buddhism is just another flavour of Buddhism, teaching a lot of the same stuff.

I only express caution there because I don’t think that we do it justice when we try to separate Secular Buddhism as its own form of Buddhism and say that it’s probably more accurate than this other form of religious Buddhism because I think that is missing the point. I think that for a secular Buddhist who thinks their interpretation of Buddhism is more accurate than a religious form of Buddhism, they are making the same mistake as a religious form of Buddhism might make by saying that a secular form of Buddhism is not accurate. It’s not about one being better, more correct or more accurate than the other. It’s about the fact that as Buddhism spreads there will continue to be forms of it that adapt and evolve just because that’s the nature of how ideas work.

All ideas whether they be political, or languages themselves, do this. Languages spread from one place to another and the flavour of it changes, with certain slang, the accent etc., and if someone were to ask what the difference is between British English and American English, it’s not about playing out the differences it’s about recognising why there are two different forms because that’s the nature of how languages evolve over time, and I think Buddhism is the same. It’s the nature of how ideas morph and evolve over time and take on the flavour of a specific time and place, and Secular Buddhism is one of those flavours just like every other form of Buddhism.

Anastasia: What are the key sources of Buddhist philosophy and practice which have inspired Secular Buddhism (and you personally)?

Noah: Well, I’d say the key sources of Buddhist philosophy and practice which inspired Secular Buddhism are any of the key sources that have inspired Buddhism in general, which is any of the schools of Buddhism, whether we’re talking about Theravada Buddhism and the collection of works that they use and read from or the Mahayana schools of Buddhism and the Sutras that they use. All of them are sources of inspiration, or, just current Buddhism leaders, thought leaders like Thich Nhat Hanh and the Dalai Lama.

Then, there’s a movement with scholar and former Buddhist monk, Stephen Bachelor, whose name is very much associated with Secular Buddhism, whose goal is to go back and re-read and re-translate a lot of these ancient writings and say, oh here’s a more accurate way of translating it, or a more accurate way of explaining this specific teaching or concept, and a lot of his work has inspired Secular Buddhism. He’s been at the forefront of this Secular Buddhism movement.

And for me personally, it’s been a combination of all of that. I find a lot of value in a lot of the religious schools of Buddhism, and their texts and their writings and their leaders, their current works and past works, so I think it comes from everywhere.

Anastasia: What are the key networks (and communities if relevant) that make up the Secular Buddhist movement?

Noah: I don’t know that there really are many yet. I’m trying to build one around my podcasts. The podcast has grown and it’s a pretty relevant community in the Secular Buddhist movement but there were podcasts that were out before mine like The Secular Buddhist podcast. Mine is called called Secular Buddhism. Stephen Batchelor does workshops and has a large following of the books that he writes, and his books serve as a way of introducing people to Secular Buddhism. I’d say those were some of the main ones right now. I’m not aware of any specific key networks or even communities and I think there’s a demand for it, and I think a lot of Secular Buddhist practitioners just find their sense of community among other already established forms of Buddhism, or mindfulness groups and meditation groups, and that’s how it is for now as there’s not a specific Secular Buddhism community.

(There is a Facebook group called Secular Buddhism which is a form of online social media community.)

Anastasia: What was your own journey to Secular Buddhism, and then to lay ministry and teaching through your podcasts and book?

Noah: That’s a good question. So, my journey into Secular Buddhism started as I exited another form of organised religion, a form of Christianity, and my beliefs were evolving and changing, and I was seeking some other way of understanding the universe, or life. When you have a belief system that has all the answers for you, and when that foundation you stand on starts to crumble, it’s really scary because that’s the way you understand yourself and the relationship you have with the universe, and that left a big void as I was trying to sort out how I make sense of all of this. I attended a couple of religious seminars that were presenting the meaning of life through the five major world religions of Christianity, Judaism, Hinduism, Islam and Buddhism and something stood out to me when the presenter was talking about Buddhism.

Up until this point it had been, who am I, why am I here, what happens when we die, and this is what Christianity says, and here are their answers, and this is what Islam says, and here are their answers, and when I got to Buddhism something that stood out to me was that the presenter said Buddhism doesn’t necessarily have answers to these questions. They’re going to flip it around on you and say that more important than knowing who am I or what happens when I die is the question, why do you want to know? And that really fascinated me. I realised it was very much a path that wasn’t about the answers but about exploring the questions themselves and that attracted me to Buddhism as a way of thinking.

The more I read – I started devouring books and listening to great courses and just everything I could about understanding this way of thinking – and by that time, I had a lot of friends and other people who were disaffected with religion, wanting to know what some of the other alternatives out there were to help you to understand life, and I started sharing what I was learning from Buddhism and found that a lot of people were really interested in hearing about it, so that’s what sparked the podcast. The podcast just grew and grew and grew and that led to the book.

Simultaneously, I wanted to formalise my practice and that led me to a lay ministry programme as a way of cementing and formalising the goal that I had to teach Buddhism and to I guess put a little bit more authority behind the things that I was sharing. So that’s what led me down that path, and the more I’ve studied it the more it made sense to me. Ironically, the more I study the more comfortable I get with just not knowing the answers to all of those big existential questions that led me down this path. I haven’t answered a single one but the desire to answer them has virtually disappeared. I’ve become so enthralled with the question of where did that yearning to know come from in the first place, why did I feel the need to know these things? All I gained in all of this, is a greater understanding of myself and my need to feel security in an insecure world – to feel some sense of permanence in an impermanent world – and that’s why I feel it’s a very good path for me, for my personality and the way my brain works.

Anastasia: A criticism often levelled at Secular Buddhism is that it is merely an individualistic applied philosophy and therefore lacks cultural richness, rituals and community (including the monastic tradition). Is this something you are addressing as a lay minister/Secular Buddhist leader, and if so, how?

Noah: I think this is a valid criticism. Secular Buddhism is very new. It is very much an individual journey. Most people who encounter or come across Secular Buddhism, they’re attracted to it because it is individualistic, because there’s no community, because there are none of the cultural attachments. So that cultural richness that you find in other traditions, we just don’t have it because it’s just a very new very sterile environment where people are often practising on their own.

I think the beauty of some of that cultural richness, well, it can be found in those other traditions and I think that’s why for me it’s been nice to blend my Secular Buddhist practice with some of the other traditions. The lay ministry programme I did was through a form of Buddhism that’s rooted in some of the Japanese schools of Buddhism and which has a lot of the cultural richness and rituals, which I don’t personally practice – I mean I did in my induction ceremony and some of the things I do from time to time with them but that’s just not me.

I’m not looking for any cultural richness. I’m not looking for any rituals. I’m not even looking much for the community aspect of it. However, I recognise the importance of community and that’s why building a sense of community around the podcast has been important because people want to stick with other people who are like-minded and talk about these things and so I’m finding that whether it’s through Facebook groups or the newest thing I’m building up with my Patreon podcast community, people enjoy having the companionship and the ears of other likeminded people to talk about these things. But almost all of us in the communities that are emerging are not interested in the cultural richness, we’re not interested in having any rituals and it’s becoming our cultural richness that we don’t have cultural richness, and our ritual that we don’t have any rituals. So, you give that enough time and it becomes its own set of problems but for now that seems to be working. A sense of community is out there but it’s not at all like these other communities that you find in other traditions.

Anastasia: What might Secular Buddhism bring to secular ‘liturgical’ scripts and events (e.g. annual, seasonal, lifecycle events) and so forth?

Noah: I don’t know. I haven’t given that any thought. I’m not entirely sure what if anything we could bring to that. Again, these are area that are pretty well established by some of the other schools of Buddhism and that’s part of their culture. With the Secular Buddhist approach it doesn’t seem like there’s a demand for annual, seasonal or lifecycle events. As that need grows, if it does, I’m sure things will pop up but for now I really don’t see that.

(Anastasia: I would like to add here that Buddhism has a great deal to offer in terms of liturgy, with its many stories, sayings and analogies. Many Buddhist teachings are presented in poetic, repetitive, reflective, and therefore liturgical ways, including those used in their original or modified forms by Secular Buddhists. I don’t think Noah thought of these as liturgy at the time of interview but they certainly count as far as I am concerned. I’m sorry Noah if that wasn’t clear!)

Anastasia: We often hear about the benefits of mindfulness meditation, which have been backed up by peer reviewed research and recommended by institutes such as NICE (National Institute for Health and Care Excellence). Are there other Secular Buddhist beliefs (or philosophical approaches) and practices which can help us to live mentally and/or physically healthier lives?

Noah: Well, Secular Buddhist beliefs is a kind of misnomer because what we’re trying to do through Buddhist practice in general is to analyse our beliefs, and if anything, to deconstruct them from the perspective of, there is reality as it is, and then there are the stories we construct around this reality, and those could constitute as beliefs. So, rather than having a new set of beliefs, Secular Buddhist beliefs, what we are trying to do is say, what if we are unattached to all of our beliefs? Sure the belief can be there, but if I feel the need that is has to be there, that is a form of attachment.

So what we’re trying to do in this approach is to understand ourselves, understand our beliefs, where these arise from, why do we have them, what kind of comfort does it provide, and could it be that it is actually providing more discomfort than comfort, and in that way, have better, healthier physical and mental lives. It piggy backs off everything that we’re finding in psychology, so whatever these other institutes are finding in terms of mindfulness and the benefits of mindfulness we go off a bat and say yes, that makes sense to us. I wouldn’t say that there’s anything additional outside of whatever Buddhism is already teaching; the concept of no self, the concepts of interdependence and impermanence. Those are the big key ideas in Buddhist philosophy that are being pushed through the Secular Buddhist lens as well.

Anastasia: Can Secular Buddhism help us to live more sustainably and meet our global environmental challenges?

Noah: I think it can but not more than any other thing helps us. Secular Buddhism and Buddhism in general are trying to help us to understand the nature of interdependence, the fact that everything we do affects everything else, and in that sense, I think what we’re producing is people who are more self-aware and who feel a greater sense of responsibility for how we live in the environment that we live in. So, in that’s sense yes, but I don’t know that Secular Buddhism is doing something beyond that. It’s trying to make individual people be more sustainable and, in that sense, if enough individual people are living more sustainably then yes, as a society we’ll be living more sustainably as well.

Anastasia: How do you view the dogmatic and superstitious religious traditions? Are they more harmful overall than they are helpful, or do they still have a place?

Noah: I think they still have a place. Everything has its place. I think we can become dogmatic and superstitious against dogmatism and superstition and then we’re in the same boat. I think any time a dogma becomes harmful it’s because its excluding every other way of thinking and that can be harmful in the sense that it’s blinding us to other potential ways of seeing things.

The analogy that’s often used in Buddhism is the five blind men describing the elephant. So, there’s nothing inherently harmful about one of the men describing the front of the elephant but how much more limited is the view, if that man describing the front of the elephant isn’t willing to listen to the person describing the tail of the elephant. So, I wouldn’t say that dogmatic and superstitious religions are necessarily harmful. Sure they can be to some degree if the specific belief and view that is held is harmful to other people who don’t hold that view, and the extreme obvious example here is of the suicide bomber who feels justified in taking the life of a nonbeliever because they believe the world is better of without the heathen in it. That’s a very harmful view but that’s and extreme view, and there are lower degrees to that and you could argue that can be found such as the views some religions have about homosexuality or other things like which that can be harmful but to just blanket say that dogmatic and superstitious religions are harmful, I don’t agree with that. I think it can be just as harmful for a non-dogmatic, non-superstitious religion to emerge and to become the very thing that it is fighting against, with its dogmatic non-dogmatism and its fight against any form of superstitions.

So that’s just something that we need to be careful of, and I think from the Secular Buddhism approach, the idea is always to expand the view, it’s never to restrict it and say that it is the right way, but to say, this is our way, and are there other ways, and trying to understand every single possible description of this elephant that’s here before us, which is life. Any possible explanation that may give me more insight is going to be welcome and if it’s harmful then I’m going to stay away from it, and if I see that it’s harmful for others then I may voice my concerns about that harm, but that’s how I view that, to that extent.

Anastasia: How do you balance the equanimity, which comes from a Buddhist approach to reality, with the need for activism and a prophetic voice which ‘speaks truth to power’ by calling out social injustices etc? Or, put in another way, how should Secular Buddhism respond to harmful human behaviours and harmful religious and political ideologies?

Noah: This is a very important thing right, in our day and age, because we have this culture of wanting to call out anyone who doesn’t hold our specific worldview or our specific political view and I don’t think that that’s right. There was a recent video which was circulating with president Obama talking about the harm that we’re doing with this call-out culture (see link below), and I think, regarding how Secular Buddhism should respond, I think it would be in a similar way, highlighting that first and foremost, life is complex, everything is interdependent, and what you would call, this good, and this evil thing, they’re interdependent because without good there is no evil and without evil there is no good.

That’s not to say then that we leave things the way that they are but what I’m trying to get at is that the world is a messy place. It’s very complex in nature – there are good people who do harmful things and bad people who love their families and who are doing good things in their community – there are drug dealers who pay for orphans to go to school while at the same time killing their enemies and causing all kinds of havoc. It’s just incredibly complex, so I think it’s dangerous when we try to put ourselves in the position of saying, I have it right and you have it wrong, and that we need to do things the way that I’m doing them.

So, we need to be careful about doing that in our voice of activism, and rather than specifically putting down the thing that we disagree with, put on a pedestal the thing that you do stand for, the thing that makes sense to you, and live by example. I think that’s a very important thing to do. I cannot recall a single instance where someone was shamed into changing their world view or changing their political view because they were shamed into it. It just doesn’t work that way.

I think the more we can just talk to each other, using rational discussion and communication tools, the more we can understand ourselves. So, I think from the Secular Buddhism approach, what we’re trying to do when we stand for something is just to highlight more understanding. I want you to understand how I view things not to agree with me. You don’t have to agree with me but I would want you to understand why I view it this way. And if you were to do the same thing back with an opposing view and help me to understand your view, then now we’re actually on to something because our goal is to increase our understanding of each other’s views, not to establish which view is correct, or which view is right.

Obama on Call-Out Culture

Anastasia: I totally agree with you about focussing on the positives about one’s own values and work rather than focussing on opposing or calling out others. I have been trying to do that with the Secular Liturgies Network from the start, though I have found that most people who contact me are far more interested in controversy and the ins and outs of what I do or don’t believe regarding religion, rather than the work I am trying to do in secular ethics, reflective practices and pastoral care!

I suppose what I was really searching for with my questions about activism was for an answer to the criticism that in my experience has been most often levelled at Buddhism – that is so much about personal growth and so pacifist and tolerant of other viewpoints that it cannot help in situations where there is a determined aggressor, whether than be a group with a harmful religious or political ideology. Activism can and should of course emphasise its own positive agenda rather than slagging off its opponents but it also needs to take a stand at times, which cannot help but be opposed to the views of other groups, even while it may listen to and respect the opposing views of individuals. There are individual, private interactions and then there is the public, political sphere.

This is of course very relevant today in many places. I suppose I was seeking a bit more of a response to that. The example most often brought up in discussion is Nazi Germany of course – what should a Buddhist have done in the face of the rise of National Socialism? This may seem like an extreme example, and as you say, there are many degrees to this sort of thing but in reality, in human history, violent and harmful ideologies and actions do happen all the time, and sometimes force of some kind is required to stop them. I suppose I was looking to explore all that a bit more.

One Buddhist teacher once told me years ago that under those circumstances a Buddhist should just submit, and in essence, die as a martyr for his/her cause but this doesn’t sit quite right with me. Another Buddhist teacher used an example of a violent mentally ill person in a village, saying a good Buddhist community would be able to restrain such a person in chains and yet also keep him happy and fully included at the same time – again that seems extremely implausible to me. I suppose I struggle with the way that some Buddhist teaching suggests we can always avoid conflict with others, when even for the most mild and gentle of people this is not possible all the time. We can avoid actually saying someone is wrong and we are right but isn’t saying politely that we don’t agree with them, and following a different path, pretty much the same thing as saying that we think they’re wrong and we’re right?

Noah: Thank you for clarifying the question a bit. I believe that one of the core practices of Buddhism is to act skillfully. I think the 4th noble truth is entirely about that and activism would certainly fall within that. I like to use the analogy of a bear coming into a campsite and terrorizing the campers. As a camper, I must do what is skillful to protect my family and my tent etc. It may be skillful to call the park ranger and have them shoot a tranquilizer to move the bear or if I sense more imminent danger, I may need to even shoot the bear. But it all depends on so many circumstances that will determine the most skillful course of action. This is how I view life from the Buddhist lens. Would I sit by while the Nazi’s invade my country? I personally would not.

I would fight when it makes sense to fight or run underground operations if that made sense or even subversion and sabotage if that made sense. I don’t know exactly WHAT I would do because it would depend entirely on all the circumstances that I might find myself in and I would hope that my Buddhist practice would allow me to me more aware and skillful in my specific course of action. I hope that clarifies my stance on that a bit more?

Anastasia: Thanks Noah, that’s helpful. It shows there is a wide range of perspectives among Buddhists as with most other groups. Some may be pacifists of a rather extreme sort but groups will vary. I grew up with a lot of Theravada and Tibetan Buddhist influence, which was essentially secular in its philosophy so I’ve long been a secular Buddhist of sorts. I’ve always found it very helpful but have not yet found a local community that takes that secular approach or a realistic/skilful enough approach to the very real challenges of life. The Secular Buddhism network is a very useful addition to the Buddhist schools and movements.

I still go to meditations at our local centre nonetheless, as I find them helpful, even though I ignore the supernatural and extreme pacifist elements of their teaching. There is still beauty in the imagery and stories, even if I don’t believe the magical beings are real, and of course, the core teachings are all the same.

Anastasia: How does the Buddhist understanding of suffering and attachment help us to empathise with and have compassion for other humans and nonhuman animals?

Noah: Well, I think that the biggest way that it helps is that it reminds us that we are all in this together. We’re all going through the same experience of being alive and experiencing suffering and of the difficulties that arise because we are alive. I’ve found that in my own personal journey the more I’ve understood this reality the easier it is to empathise and have compassion for others, regardless of how they view the world because however they paint their picture of, oh I’m so happy because I believe this or I’m so happy because I’ve go all these followers on Instagram or whatever, the picture is you can start to see through that and be like, no, I know that you, deep down inside, you experience difficulties in the same way that I do when things don’t when things don’t go the way that we want them to go and when things aren’t the way that we want them to be. We experience suffering and that’s universal.

By recognising that we’re all experiencing that from time to time to different degrees, I think that empathy arises naturally. It’s not, I’m supposed to be nice, why, because I was told that I’m supposed to be nice. It becomes natural to be nice because you realise, you’re are no different from me, and I have fears, and I have insecurities, and I have all these things that I try to hide about me, well, I don’t have to hide them anymore and now can see that you have yours too. I may not know what yours are but I know that you have them and that allows me to approach people differently, and I think that’s one of the big benefits of this very key teaching of Buddhism of Dukkha, the concept of suffering.

So, I think that’s how he Buddhist understanding of suffering helps us to empathise with others and more importantly here, it allows that empathy to arise naturally, not forced, because you’re not compelled and in the Buddhist tradition there are not commandments, right. You are told, hey be kind to your neighbour. There’s no reason to, you don’t have to be, so if I don’t have to be kind so I’m left with the option of then why does that still feel like the right thing to do and I can look into that and realise, oh because we’re all here and we’re all suffering and we’re all trying to make it better and to me that seems like a much more authentic way of feeling empathy than just saying, well, I’m going to be nice to you because that’s what I’m supposed to be doing, so I pretend to be nice but deep down inside, I’ll judge you, and I’ll feel angry that you don’t do this and that you do do that. So, that’s how I view that concept of suffering in relationship to Buddhism.

Anastasia: Secular Buddhism seems to have a lot in common with the Secular Humanist approach (and that of the Secular Liturgies Network and Forum*). Indeed, it has the potential to enrich Secular Humanist perspectives, ethics, reflective practices and models of pastoral care. Do you currently collaborate or have links with humanist organisations or other progressive faith organisations e.g. progressive Christianity, humanistic Judaism etc.?

Noah: No, I personally don’t. I’m not aware of the other people who are talking about Secular Buddhism if they have relationships with any of these organisations or institutes or movements but I think they’re worth looking into. I don’t really read or study their perspectives. I’m not entirely sure. I would assume we have a lot in common because the secular approach seems to be very similar to other secular approaches.

I’m very fond of the work that people like Sam Harris are doing, and the work that people like Neil Degrasse Tyson are doing to promote secular ethics and yes, I can see similarities with some of those approaches. I’d love to be more involved or know what some of those things are but now I’m not really aware of any or of Secular Buddhism trying to jump into something more than just what it is right now which is an exploration of ideas.

Anastasia: What are the greatest rewards and challenges of your work?

Noah: The greatest rewards are knowing that these concepts, these ideas, these teachings, really change lives. People send me messages all the time about how, whether its dealing with disaffection of religion or dealing with some kind of relationship conflict with a spouse or a partner or between parents and children. I see it all the time that these concepts and ideas are healing. They’re healing peoples’ relationships with themselves, peoples’ relationships with their loved ones and peoples’ relationships with their overall community and the environment that they live in and that they were raised in.

And that’s the biggest challenge by far, and that’s what I’ve experienced also in my own approach to all of this is that it’s a greater sense of peace. I feel like for so long I was on this trajectory of, I have to know things, I have to find the truth, the right path, have the right answers…and that’s slowly morphed into, now the journey is the journey of having more peace and more contentment, more joy and more peace and not even searching for answers anymore. I’m not interested in the answers. I’m still interested in the questions and the source of the questions but I’m not interested in the answers, and I feel that that’s been a great reward of this specific work and this specific path.

The greatest challenges, not entirely sure, I think I’d have to think about that a little bit. I think some of them are about being misunderstood. When you live in a community that has very similar sets of views and beliefs and you don’t share those, it can be challenging because you’re perceive to be an outsider. Or, even worse, in my case, if you’re still somewhat ‘in’, it’s like well, now you’re not really one of us. You’re not really an outsider because you’re not against us but you’re not really one of us because you don’t believe what we believe, so you’re kind of stuck. You’re not with us or against us, and I guess that’s a better place to be than against us.

And then there’s some of the push back I’ll get from other Buddhists, for example, like you’re bastardising Buddhism, I’ll get messages like that from time to time and I just respond with, I’m not changing Buddhism at all, if anything, study it a little bit more closely and you’ll realise that what I’m doing is the same, this is all the same stuff. We’re just presenting it with different approaches, different lenses, and also just the time that it takes to dedicate to constantly preparing new topics for the podcast episodes, taking the time to respond to emails and to the messages I get and things of that nature but it’s not really challenging, it’s a very rewarding work for me.

(*With its Nine Themes, the Secular Liturgies Network suggests that the focus of progressive faith and applied philosophical movements going into the future should be on improving the following: health and wellbeing, compassion and empathy, sustainability, social justice and equality, community-building, critical thinking and a rational/evidenced based approach to knowledge, personal development/growth, and cultural diversity, creativity and enrichment.)

Why Unitarianism? Three Ministers Reveal All

Photograph courtesy of New Unity, a nonreligious Unitarian church in London, whose congregation is one of around 170 congregations belonging to The General Assembly of Unitarian and Free Christian Churches

1. Personal Inspiration

What personal experiences, authors, speakers and so forth, inspired you to train for ministry with the Unitarians?

Maria Curtis

I discovered Unitarianism in my mid-fifties, having been an atheist for most of my adult life.  I was familiar with my local Unitarian church as a concert venue where my singing group had rehearsed and performed. I started to look at the information leaflets and writing on the walls, noticed the absence of crucifixes, and thought, “What sort of church is this, where ‘all are welcome regardless of beliefs’?” At the time a difficult long-term relationship had come to an end and I was experiencing a sense of freedom. I had always been interested in spiritual approaches to life but was intellectually unable to adhere to irrational beliefs. The Unitarian church aroused my curiosity and I felt I had nothing to lose by attending a service. The service was led by a female minister who managed to combine a sense of irony with a prayerful seriousness; what she said was interesting, inspiring and uplifting.

I was hooked and have never looked back. I very quickly got involved in the life of the church, doing readings, setting up for services and making teas and coffees etc., and became a member and sat on the Committee. When the minister left, a group of members kept the church going. I was an experienced teacher and was working as a psychologist in education. I co-led some education programmes (engagement groups) and started taking services. There was no particular moment when I felt a calling – it was more a feeling that I was already ministering and wanted to train in order to make a better job of it. It was the ethos of the church that inspired me –  the fact that it was congregational; that the community was based on shared values rather than shared beliefs; that it was open-hearted and open-minded.

Claire MacDonald

Ministry mediates between the world of everyday experience and our hopes and dreams. It’s very cognisant of desire and disappointed hopes. I came to it through my childhood experience in a deep way, a way in which I also felt called to transformative theatre work in groups and with communities, which I did for many years. I was an eldest child in a fragmented, cash strapped family in which my siblings and I had to care for a dying parent in a family in which the other parent had left. That kind of experience brings the exigencies of life very close and invites you to ask big questions.

As an adult the calling was expressed to me by Rev. Elizabeth Birtles when I took a course in how to lead a service with two impressive Unitarian women — Sarah Tinker and Jane Blackall. Liz Birtles articulated for me the way in which a minister operates in a space between, a place where energies can be called forth, ragged hems mended and hearts stilled — through a practice of doing and being. That just called me to it. Unitarianism and Unitarian ministry has been the only ministry wide enough, deep enough and liberal enough to hold me personally. It has allowed me to draw on the Christianity of my childhood and deepen it with other religious and philosophical insights and a political commitment to justice and equality across race, class and genders.

In terms of who has inspired me as writers and thinkers — that too goes a long way back — Ivan Illich, the great Catholic liberation theologian and social thinker in his book Tools for Conviviality, which I read first in the 1970s has always been a spiritual presence, as has the theologian Mary Daly, brave, wild, radical, feminist, wordsmith and counter cultural thinker that she was. Karen Armstrong’s diligent attention to religion’s history, Nicola Slee’s Christa imagery and ritual sensitivity; Kwame Anthony Appiah’s commitment to conversation’s centrality to human flourishing; Mary Wollstonecraft’s prophetic imagination, and, personally, the great Unitarian speaker, minister and hymn writer Rev Andrew Hill, as well as Rev Andy Pakula who mentored me in ministry at Newington Green, Rev Ana Levy Lyons, my minister in Brooklyn, composer Meredith Monk who asked the great question for me as a performer — what is the difference between an audience and a congregation? Letty Russell for knowing the value of a round table — when I think of it there are just so many thinkers, writers, encounters, friends whose spirituality and political theology has informed me I can’t list enough of them here.

Andy Pakula

I do not fit the mould. I never have. I grew up in a liberal and rather secular Jewish family in New York. We celebrated Hanukkah (mostly for the presents) and Passover (the celebration of freedom), but we also had a Christmas tree, and Santa came and filled our stockings every year! I did not take to religion as a young man. Indeed, I was vehemently atheistic and anti-religious. I am still an atheist and, depending on definitions, I might still be called anti-religious; at least I am ‘anti’ the kind of religion fosters homophobia, transphobia, and misogyny, that promotes ‘us vs. them’ thinking, that insists that it knows the right answer – as if there is just one – that tells us what we should think, believe, and do, and dangles rewards and threatens punishment to get us to behave.

I chose to study science, earning a PhD in Biology and a Master’s in Business, both at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT). I went on to have a rewarding career in the biotechnology industry. As a scientist, I wouldn’t entertain any ideas that couldn’t be proven in a well-designed, objective experiment. So, when I found myself in a Unitarian Universalist congregation in Lexington, Massachusetts, it was a bit surprising to those who knew me, and to me as well!  My wife Miriam and I had decided to give it a try, but only for our young son’s benefit – or so we thought. Over the subsequent years, ever so gradually, that congregation helped me to recognise the potential beauty and power of people coming together to create community and to make a better world. Indeed, it started me on a path that led me to leave biotech and become a non-theistic Minister.

I began studying for the ministry at Andover Newton Theological School in Massachusetts: several years of academic training, followed by a year-long internship under the supervision of an experienced Minister. I was in the late stages of setting up my internship at an American congregation when Miriam announced that she’d been offered an exciting job (as the CEO of an internet retail fashion company) that would be a great step forward for her. Naturally, I was delighted – until I found out that this new job was based in London. ‘London? We can’t go to London! I’m preparing for the American UU ministry!’ I feared that it would be impossible for me to transition my ministerial preparation to the UK. However, the expected barriers fell like dominoes before me. We packed up and moved to what we expected to be our very short-term home – London.

The London Unitarian congregations of Newington Green and Islington asked if I’d be willing to fill in for a year, upon the departure of their shared minister. I was told that it would be considered a success if the congregation numbers were maintained. Happily, the congregation grew that year, and the church Committees asked me to stay on a bit longer. Two more years passed, with continued growth, from 35 members to more than 100. In 2009, when I completed my British Unitarian ministry training, the congregation formally welcomed me as their Minister. It had become clear to me that even though I hadn’t foreseen the fascinating twists and turns my life path would be taking, I was in the right place, at the right time, in the right vocation; and so looking forward to the challenges and joys to come. I do not fit the mould, and I don’t think any of us are meant to be shaped and manipulated to fit a mould – of belief, perspective, sexuality, or ability. We’re meant to be treasured as the people we are, and to be accepted, loved, and supported as we grow as individuals and join together to create a more just society.

Perhaps the most important experience for me was of truly deep and vulnerable community. This took place in various settings in and around Unitarian Universalism (UU) in the US. This experience is to me the most profound and even perhaps ‘sacred’ of encounters. My disenchantment with the world of business inspired me in the sense that it provided a clear example of what I did not want to do for the rest of my life! There have, of course, been many other experiences.

2. The Meaning of Ministry

What does being a Unitarian minister and spiritual leader mean for you, in terms of your personal beliefs, values and goals?

Claire MacDonald

Being a minister and being a Unitarian are two related but distinctive things for me. Ministry is a practice and a calling across faiths and contexts. It’s not defined by denomination, it’s a practice, a way of doing and being. I try at it, I fail, I fall, I try again. It is at the same time deeply joyful and scarily uncertain — it calls me to find resilience and to learn to swim when no resilience is possible.  It’s without goals in its best sense. It feels very connected to caring for the earth, to countercultural ways of thinking and doing outside conventional notions of ‘success’.

I try to ask the questions, value experience and not depend on established narratives. And yet, I think we are looking for the best models to live by, models that allow for the most generative kinds of human flourishing. So I am not a liberal in the classic sense — not all paths are equal for me. Spiritual leadership is simply two things, one is always being prepared to say that the ‘buck stops with me’. I am the backstop. And I simply try to walk the path, to walk with, not to fix or solve but just to be there.

Andy Pakula

I am committed to creating more love and justice in the world. This begins with community and works through community, so building healthy, loving, justice-seeking community is my highest priority.

Maria Curtis

I spent years of my professional life putting labels on children with special educational needs as a route to acquiring resources. I am very much against labelling people. One of my fundamental beliefs is that we should encounter “otherness” with curiosity and compassion. It is important to me to acknowledge that we all have prejudices – we all project our perceptions onto others – then we can work to counter them in an attempt to see the other as a human being like us. I believe we are all “equal in the sight of God”, but we find it very difficult to behave as if this were the case; we are all guilty of valuing some people more than others. Through our spiritual community we endeavour to support one another in seeing the divine spark within everyone.

One of my tasks as spiritual leader is to acknowledge human frailty and still maintain hope. We are not in denial about human stupidity and evil, but we know that is not the whole picture. I support my congregation in avoiding despair and retaining their capacity for joy amid the gloom and doom. For example, we can easily experience despair in relation to climate change but despair does not lead to action; we need to tap the wellspring of joy and gratitude at simply being alive amid beauty and loving relationships. This is the world we want to preserve for future generations and it is our responsibility to act to make the world a better place, rather than being mere bystanders.

3. Study and Training

What did your training involve and how do you continue to reflect on and develop your practice?

Maria Curtis

We used to have a Unitarian college in Manchester which was part of a federation of colleges of other dissenting churches. I did a two-year full-time course in Contextual Theology, alongside Unitarian Studies, which was taught separately. Because I was academically well qualified, I was allocated to courses from the MA programme although I had no background in Christianity. I enjoyed the courses but felt uncomfortable learning in an academic environment where one’s Christianity was assumed. I do not identify as a Christian and soon realised that the sort of philosophical discussion I had anticipated was only possible with my Unitarian colleagues and not the other students (and only some of the staff). We have recently created a new Unitarian College which is completely independent and can tailor courses to individual needs, a much better model in my view, and I wish it had been available when I undertook my training.

By far the most significant aspect of my training was the placements, the first under the supervision of an experienced minister and the second where I was the minister-in-training. I learned so much about congregational life and was able to reflect on my practice through my contextual theology assignments. I continue to reflect on my practice through a covenant group (a form of peer supervision), my District support group for ministers and my own minister’s support group in my church. There are two national meetings per year when all Unitarian ministers in UK can gather to reflect on and develop their practice. We also have an annual General Assembly where we meet with the wider membership.

Claire MacDonald

My accredited training took several forms. Firstly, I took a course in how to lead a service which tuned out to be much, much more than that. It was an opportunity to reflect and connect in ways that were transformative and allowed me to bring my existing practice as a performer, teacher and writer into an emerging context and share with others the experiment and experience of allowing what ministry might be to change us. It stayed with me and the people who did it with me stayed with me. I have Sarah Tinker and Jane Blackall to thank for that. Secondly, I was incredibly lucky to be invited by Rev Andy Pakula to spend a year at New Unity in Islington as his assistant and trainee. It was a wonderful year. I learned from him about family systems theory, and about how to be in a congregation, where your role is to be slightly set apart. I took services there monthly and I loved and love that congregation. I then trained for two years at Harris Manchester College Oxford in ministry. The focus was on formation, in an intimate conversational setting in which we wrote essay length pieces of writing on a variety of topics and shared those, reading them aloud and then through discussion. The afternoons we spent in discussions were very deep indeed.

At the same time, I undertook a pastorate in Oxford and led services monthly as well as a book group. I also studied in London over two years for an MA in Abrahamic Faiths at Heythrop College, a Jesuit foundation, which was among the deepest and most challenging and interesting intellectual contexts I have ever taken part in. I already had a PhD in a different subject. I was a university teacher and was also running an MA while I was training but this was very challenging. The MA focused on the violent impact of modernity on the three Abrahamic faiths and the ethical, political, spiritual and cultural questions which emerged from that. I had teachers from all three faiths.

In terms of continuing reflection – yoga, prayer, getting myself out of the way, trying, failing, listening to God, finding God in the small things. There’s nothing special. My practice is everyday life. In a sense it’s the heightened awareness of life’s brevity, of that very short horizon, of living with insignificance. I am a yoga teacher and writer. I still work in the arts. It is very important to me though that the MA aspect of my training was so intellectually deep. It gave me strength and depth and connected me to the the writings of others through history. I felt as if I was being taken by the hand from somewhere very deep down and just hauled to the surface of the water, learning to swim.

Andy Pakula

I was trained both in the US and the UK. In the US, with the Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA), I was required to do a Masters of Divinity degree which was 30 modules. It covered theology, history, preaching, ethics, scripture, world religions, pastoral care, community systems, and much more. I was also required to undertake three hundred hours of Clinical Pastoral Education, which I did in a hospital, and to carry out a yearlong full-time internship in a congregation. In the UK, I was required to learn more about British Unitarian history and theology. Ultimately, as an atheist serving a non-religious congregation, I found much of the theology and history to be not very relevant to my practice of ministry. I have learned far more doing ministry than I did learning about it.

4. Liturgical and Reflective Practices

What liturgies, rituals and reflective practices feature in your church’s services and events?

Claire MacDonald

As I understand it, liturgy originates in the order of things, the way we do them. Simply meeting weekly for reflection and sharing is a practice that has become essential and which is at the heart of community and congregation. That Sunday morning hour is an expansive moment. It’s a pause between one week and the next, a collective breathing in and out, a point of recognition of who we are. We do some meditation, we sing at times, we read poetry, we light candles for the world and our own lives and we share the joys and hopes and losses and pain quite formally, and in a context that is confidential. We do that to recharge and support our commitment to change. That change is an essential aspect of ordering our daily life on ethical principles and values. Everyone matters, we commit to love and kindness, we admit to failure, we appreciate what we don’t know, we use and value reason, we accept and value difference.

At my own community meeting house in south London we embrace many paths to spiritual growth and we do it in a strong and questioning way. We experiment with ways of connecting through arts and poetry, song, meditation, story telling and practical work — gardening, cooking, sharing meals, going camping together. We also try to work/walk through the seasonal year and its festivals, which are often tied to the big Abrahamic faiths as well as older, earthier insights and practices. The road is made by walking, as the poet Antonio Machado said. This Sunday we are doing a water gathering service — using the bringing and mixing of waters to tell the stories of our summer and our hopes for what is next. Artist Amy Sharrocks, who created the Museum of Water, is joining us. Personally, I also lead and design rites of passage, and conduct weddings and funerals in which I help people to create those in appropriate ways for them. I am also interested in rituals as effective acts, or performative utterances. I am leading a weekend workshop at the Live Art Development Agency at the end of September on blessing and cursing for art practitioners. I like that cross-over.

Andy Pakula

We don’t do much in the way of liturgy to the extent that this is meant to mean a repeated set of words and phrases. We do have rituals. There are those (such as candles of joy and sorrow, lighting of a candle, and rising in communal song) that we repeat weekly. There are others that are infrequent and some that are devised for specific situations. Our meetings begin with a ritual check-in with the prompt ‘how is your heart.’ The meetings end with a check-in of ‘likes and wishes’ to express what each person liked about the meeting and what they wish could be different in the future. The meeting finally closes with a ritual where each person in turn takes the hand of the person to their left with the words ‘I place my hand in yours that we may do together what we cannot do apart.’

Maria Curtis

Services begin with the lighting of the chalice, the symbol of our free faith. I often incorporate candle lighting ceremonies in my services where individuals from the congregation can light a candle (tea light), offer a silent prayer or speak to the theme of the service. I sometimes have mini-discussions where people can share their experiences in small groups. We have very little in the way of a set liturgy, but my services generally follow a structure that I’m comfortable with, sometimes known as the “hymn sandwich”. Every service would contain hymns, readings, prayers and silence/meditation. I have also used film clips occasionally.

An example of a recent District Meeting that I hosted: A service – plus – workshop on a theme of Active Hope, based on the ideas of American Buddhist and eco-warrior, Joanna Macy. We sang, we prayed, we gave thanks, we lamented, then we discussed what we had done that had actually made a difference, however small, to the welfare of the earth.  Contributions took the form of lighting a candle and speaking and sharing in small groups. All who attended (about 35) made a contribution and I believe felt empowered by the end of the ceremony, which took about two hours. Once a year, I lead a service to which members of the local community are invited. A couple of years ago, this took the form of the Great Get Together on a theme of Unity to commemorate the life of murdered MP Jo Cox. This year, the theme is Food and we’ll be looking at the recent UN report on farming and climate change; food poverty; food waste; recycling, etc.

5. Matters of Identity

Would you describe your ministry as Christian? Or, in other words, how does the Unitarian church’s Christian heritage feature and inspire current Unitarian communities and yours in particular?

Andy Pakula

No, not Christian. My own background is secular Jewish. My congregation is mostly agnostic or atheist. We draw wisdom and inspiration from secular and religious traditions. Christianity is no more important in this way than other major world religions.

Maria Curtis

A small minority of my congregation would describe themselves as Christian; most would not, but there is enormous variation in theology and beliefs among Unitarian churches and chapels. Having come from a very humanistic church in the south of England, I had quite a shock when I went to train in Manchester and encountered congregations which were predominantly Christian. I certainly do not identify as Christian; I can make no sense of Jesus being the son of God.  I find some Christian ideas such as Original Sin and the Atonement abhorrent.  I am not interested in claims about Resurrection. However, I am attracted by the ethics of Christianity, as conveyed in the gospels.

I sometimes describe myself as a follower of Jesus –  the radical who stood against hypocrisy and was committed to social justice – but I am also inspired by the Buddha, Socrates and many other mystics, philosophers and poets who seek the truth. I cannot assume that everyone in my congregation believes in God. I regarded myself as an atheist for years but would not do so now.  I no longer find it helpful to think in terms of belief or disbelief in God. In the course of a service I may use many paraphrases for the concept of God, eg, the Divine, That which is of highest worth, Love, Creative Spirit, etc.  At the beginning of a service I would always explain our Unitarian stance, saying that we respect the Christian tradition from which we emerged, but glean insights from other faiths and philosophies, as well as from literature and science. Above all, we are open hearted and open minded, and that means we must be ready to change our minds in the light of new evidence.

Claire MacDonald

My ministry does not look for Christian answers, it doesn’t use the Christian story or the Christian message allegorically but it listens to what ancient stories have to tell us, and I am moved and creatively charged by them. I share with Christians a sense of the strange, essential, resilient mystery of Christianity. Christianity is a conversation, and a process, and a spirituality — the institution of church is quite another thing. Unitarianism began in a moment of political dissent from the established church and I value the way in which it has moved towards a conversation between reason, science, knowing and unknowing, and an embrace of wider spiritual traditions. I also appreciate its commitment to ministry as a dynamic practice though I see that as in a sense more a rabbinical role than a priestly one — since Unitarianism is non sacramental.

For me, it’s more a question of culture than belief. Being married to an American Jew I have spent many years as a participant in Jewish liturgies, seders and practices, which I have come to love and appreciate. I have also come to see more clearly the ways in which I remain culturally, and in my heart, Christian. It has me emotionally — I know its stories, I know its part in my personal development from childhood, I know its shape and its depths. I have also been affected and informed since my teens by liberation theology. That movement, to always walk towards the margins, to always side with the poor, to side with those for whom the world is in a state of collapse, that is Christian in ethical practice and it takes a deep, steady sense of the worth and value of Christian theology to go there, and I have also learned from women practitioners and theologians across faiths — Ana Levy Lyons, my Jewish Unitarian minister in New York, the writings of Jerusha Lamptey, who is a muslim theologian at NYU, and, very recently, from the Palestinian scholar and activist Liana Saif who is taking part in my blessings and cursings workshop. In recent years the beauty and insight of Islam has been instructive for me. That is an ongoing journey.

6. Building Community

How do you build local community and accommodate a range of personalities and beliefs?

Claire MacDonald

This is huge question. By doing, listening, modelling, respecting, embracing… Ministers have a place at the table that is unique. It allows us to take part in a very wide range of community activities and spaces. That is very important. I think we need to offer respite, space, pause, and I think we need to be very clear about our values. Building community in times like these is very challenging indeed. Accommodating people is not what I see community doing, its more to do with finding ways to allow and enable people to ‘just be’ but also providing a strong sense of what we side with and commit to — people can be with those values as process and engage with them as part of a journey.

I am reminded all the time that Unitarian communities and congregations are ecological systems and I am thinking about what the ecology of a community means in difficult times, how resilient a small system can be. Religious movements encourage people to bring all the baggage we carry with us into the space. We don’t just bring our dressed-up selves but ourselves in pain and need. I find that challenging and I find it breathtakingly honest at times. We bring our grief and upset to the table, and in the current political spiritual ecological crisis I have begun to see that they are not negative, they too are tools we have to work with. The trick is to keep breathing, to learn to step back, not to judge, to accept where we are. I don’t find it easy at all. I find it extremely challenging at times. I have to remind myself that failing and falling and making fools of ourselves is all part of how we find new growth in the world we live in. Religions accept that we are broken, and that we strive for wholeness. At times, in a mosque, in a synagogue, in a temple, in a church, I feel we can breathe, let down, as if we step into shallow water together with bare feet, just to be here. That’s the challenge, to be here. As Tich Nhat Hahn says, our true home is in the present moment. ‘The miracle is to walk on the green Earth in the present moment / to appreciate the peace and beauty that are available now. It is not a matter of faith; it is a matter of practice.

Andy Pakula

I came to the conclusion some time ago that it is better for a congregation – and especially a minister – to be one thing well rather than try to be all things to all people. The Sunday Gatherings at New Unity are non-supernatural. They don’t deny the existence of supernatural forces and entities but speak to the core religious message of love and justice. Our words and practices place responsibility for the world and for our relationships upon human beings. This is not to say that other people and views are not welcome or included. All are welcome. Many who hold supernatural beliefs find much that is inspiring and sustaining at New Unity and – since we don’t try to deny or disprove their beliefs – they feel free to read their beliefs into our message.

Maria Curtis

We are a welcoming community which offers hospitality to all. We model respect in our interaction with one another, including tolerance of difference in our relationships, which then radiates out to the wider community. What holds us together as a spiritual community is our shared values. These are reinforced through regular worship, where we gain strength from participating together, and through shared activities where we extend our hospitality and charity to other groups. Together we share our joys and sorrows, leading to cohesion as a community.

7. Rewards and Challenges

What are the greatest rewards and challenges of your work?

Maria Curtis

The rewards far outweigh the challenges. Compared to life as a professional in the public sector, my life as a minister is pure joy. I have the autonomy to focus on what I feel is most important without having to worry about resources or statutory deadlines; I used to be part of a bureaucratic special needs machine, whereas now I have considerable freedom. True, there are deadlines, and one loses weekends, but apart from the work around the Sunday service, I can prioritise where to focus my time and effort. It is a real privilege being able to serve a congregation and focus on what really matters in life; a big responsibility, too, as people share their deepest feelings with their minister.

I am very comfortable in the role of “holding” the congregation during services as well as holding individuals and small groups. I bring transferable skills from my experience as a teacher, psychologist and counsellor which I enjoy using, but, beyond expertise, it is the use of self, just “being there” for others, which gives me great satisfaction. I enjoy the intellectual challenge of coming up with ideas for services, choosing readings and structuring the service for maximum impact. I am someone who enjoys writing and researching but my perfectionist streak means that I probably spend too long on these activities. Too much time spent sitting at the computer is one of the downsides of this line of work but the pressure is coming from me, not anyone else.

This may seem a strange thing to say, but I really enjoy conducting funerals.  I feel at my most therapeutic when I am supporting people in coming to terms with their loss. I think it is very important to make the funeral ceremony a positive experience. By that I do not mean denial of the finality of death or sharing fantasies about the afterlife.  It’s all about acknowledging the pain of loss and working towards acceptance of death. I endeavour to convey the personality of the deceased in a way that rings true for the mourners so that they can celebrate a life and say goodbye to their loved one. It is such a privilege to conduct funeral services for people when they are at their most vulnerable and be able to offer them comfort and support.

If I had to summarise ministry, I would say it is about bearing prophetic witness – to injustice, dishonesty, hypocrisy, etc, – while acknowledging with gratitude and humility the sheer privilege and joy of being alive.

Claire MacDonald

There are so many kinds of rewards in community. Being in there, in what I call the dirty water of passionate commitment to human flourishing, connected to where people are in vulnerability and resilience is rewarding. There’s a lot of fun involved, a lot of letting go of what doesn’t matter, a lot of attention to where we are. The challenges are also very big. Some of them are the usual — funding, making our spaces beautiful and safe, offering gatherings that are connected and meaningful, not making it a to do list, not overdoing it, listening. There are others — patriarchy and unconscious sexism, the passing off of privilege as liberalism, the lack of real diversity in liberal congregations, the challenges of race and class, the need to meet emerging sexualities and identities with authentically and actively, all of that.

There is also a fear of taking responsibility that is very challenging, a desire not to rock the boat, an aversion to risk, a narrow minded clubbiness. Shall I go on? Church hurts. I am in a ministry group across denominations and its the same everywhere. The trick is to keep breathing, to learn to step back, not to judge, to accept where we are. And yet to hold to values and principals. I’m also prepared for failing and falling and making fools of ourselves, in things not going well, and in tears and temper and falling out — because this is how we find new growth in the world we live in. We bring our pain, grief and upset to the table, and in the current political spiritual ecological crisis they too are tools we have to work with. I am reminded all the time that Unitarian communities and congregations are complex ecological systems and I am thinking about what the ecology of a community means in difficult times, how resilient a small system can be, what makes it special, what gives it shape, makes it distinctive, gives it life? Churches are very challenging places because we bring our whole selves, and that is really powerful. We don’t just bring our dressed up selves but ourselves in pain and need. I find that challenging and I find it breathtakingly honest at times.

Andy Pakula

The challenges are few and the rewards many. The challenges for me really come down to my own passion. I want to do more each day than can fit. This comes from the fact that the work is so rewarding and important. Ministry is the best possible job. My work is to help people and help them make a better world. It is to help people to love one another. It gives my life meaning and purpose and aligns with my personal mission.

8. Unitarian Visions

In your view, what should the Unitarian vision and practical emphasis be, going into the future?

Maria Curtis

Our priority should be to engage with others who share our values, with people of faith but also humanists and anyone else who takes life seriously.  There are so many big issues to confront that we need all the help we can get. I am less interested in putting energy into preserving Unitarianism than in gathering like-minded people of compassion together to make the world a better place before it is too late.,

Claire MacDonald

Living it. Caring about an enriching spiritual life as everyone’s right. Not worrying about growth. Not getting into bed with the remaindered business model that churches are finding so appealing at present but siding with ecological, counter cultural thinking, how to collaborate, how to let go of old systems, how to model in the way we work together the kind of society we would like to be.

Andy Pakula

I believe Unitarianism should be a diverse collection of congregations. These congregations will have distinct perspectives, approaches, and diverse beliefs. Each would be authentic and avoid the pitfalls of trying to please everyone. Each congregation would be outwardly focused – intent on meeting the world where it is and providing what the people of today need.

9. Working with Others

What organisations with similar values and goals do you collaborate with?

Andy Pakula

We collaborate with Extinction Rebellion, Citizens UK, Humanists UK, and dozens of small non-profits.

Maria Curtis

Local, national and international interfaith groups. Local ecological groups. We have created a South-East Climate Alliance group.  GreenSpirit, a national group of which I’ve been a member for a while, brings together people from a range of backgrounds who care about the earth. Society of Friends (Quakers). Ironically, the group we have least contact with in my area are Christian churches; Churches Together will not collaborate with us because we don’t believe in the divinity of Jesus. Greenpeace.  Amnesty International.  Local Refugees group.  Extinction Rebellion.  Local recycling/repair groups working against waste.

Claire MacDonald

I am committed to internationalism so I collaborate with, visit and partner with Unitarians across the world. That includes feminist Unitarians in Transylvania through my friend Reverend Eniko Ferenczi, and with friends and fellow Unitarian ministers Meg Richardson and Gabriella Lettini at Starr King College at Berkley, who teach counter cultural pedagogies based in transformative inclusive theologies. I am a writer and arts practitioner as well and am part of the Culture Declares Emergency movement working on the climate crisis. I am in LIF, the Lewisham Interfaith Forum. I am a committed arts activist and work with arts organisations such as the Live Art Development Agency. They are based in an old Unitarian mission in Bethnal Green and create collaborations across all kinds of groups. I work with SimpleGifts, the Unitarian social action centre, also based in the same building in Bethnal Green. Actually, I will pretty much collaborate with anyone. At the moment I am planning to collaborate with Magic Me, which is also an arts-based organisation in Bethnal Green.

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Rev. Dr. Claire MacDonald

Claire MacDonald is a Unitarian minister with Lewisham Unity in Catford, South London. She is also a writer, with a background in performance, who is committed to what she calls ‘writing beyond belief’ working in social change and art contexts to explore new ways of doing, being and meaning through conversation and collective practice. As an activist, she is committed to the idea that radical change originates in culture, and that art, like religion, operates at the moving edge of experience, always edging into what is just beyond what we think we know. Claire has recently joined the Secular Liturgies External Advisory Board.

 

Rev. Dr. Andrew Pakula

Andy is a Unitarian Minister at New Unity, a Unitarian congregation with two centres in north London. Under his leadership, the church has hosted a series of annual lectures by prominent public figures, to address “a topical or important aspect of liberty, reason and ethics”. The Richard Price Memorial Lectures have invited Evan Davis, the economist and BBC presenter, to speak on media and dishonesty; psychotherapist Susie Orbach, to describe “Frankenstein’s Bodies Today”; and literary critic Terry Eagleton, to analyse “The New Atheism and the War on Terror”.

It may interest readers that Andy was involved in a controversy when he was invited to appear on the Today Programme, BBC Radio 4’s flagship morning show, at the request of guest editor Sir Tim Berners-Lee, inventor of the World Wide Web and a Unitarian himself. Berners-Lee had wished him to present the segment within the programme known as “Thought for the Day” but the BBC hierarchy claimed this was not appropriate, since Andy describes himself as an atheist. Instead, he was allowed to deliver his message an hour earlier, as an “Alternative Thought for the Day”, with a theistic Unitarian minister appearing in the actual TFTD slot.

 

Rev. Dr. Maria Curtis

Maria has been Minister of Horsham Unitarian Church since October 2014, after training at Unitarian College, Manchester. Prior to ministry, she worked in social work, teaching and academic research, and for over twenty years as an educational psychologist.

Maria is shortly retiring from congregational ministry but will continue to serve the Unitarian movement with a focus on ministry training. As leader at Horsham Unitarian Church, Maria developed a Green Spirituality group, which is open to the community, with the aim of “bringing people together to celebrate life and consider how best to nurture the earth and all her creatures”.

Humanist Funeral Celebrancy: An Interview with Jenny Lloyd

I was delighted to have the opportunity to interview Jenny Lloyd on her work as a Humanist Funeral Celebrant (accredited by Humanists UK). As rapid secularisation in the UK continues, humanist celebrants like Jenny are leading the way in creating life-cycle events within a humanist framework. Jenny specialises in funerals, while other celebrants endorsed by Humanists UK specialise in weddings and naming ceremonies, or a combination of these three types of ceremony.

Dr Anastasia E. Somerville-Wong, Editor of Secular Liturgies

Jenny Lloyd

Jenny had a career in education from 1970 to 2006, with a four year break (1975-1979) to bring up her daughters – returning to work when her husband took on the role as primary parent. Jenny taught secondary English and media studies and was head of an English department before moving into the advisory service with Devon Local Education Authority in 1989. As an advisory teacher and then as an advisor, Jenny worked in schools alongside secondary teachers (and later primary teachers), writing and trialling materials, training teachers, and reporting to headteachers, the local authority and the DfE.  Jenny took leave of absence in the mid 1990s to do an MA in Children’s Literature, and returned to lead the National Literacy Strategy in Devon and then the Secondary English Strategy. On retirement, Jenny trained as a humanist funeral celebrant in 2007 and started practising in 2008.

Jenny Lloyd

1. What inspired you to become a humanist funeral celebrant?

Someone who I’d worked with on a community arts project suggested that I train in 1998 when the British Humanist Association (now Humanists UK) was looking for more people to become celebrants in Devon. I’d recently been appointed to a big job (leading the National Literacy Strategy for Devon Local Authority) so I couldn’t consider it but I knew that she’d given me the idea for what I could do in retirement (from 2006).  She did me a big favour.  I’d collected oral history from Exonions in the 1970s and knew I was able to give people a voice to tell their stories.  That oral history work was inspired by Charles Parker who collaborated with Peggy Seeger and Ewan MacColl on the BBC Radio Ballads – the central premise being that everyone has a story worth telling.  That was my inspiration.

2. What kind of training did you receive?

Five days, including two weekends, with BHA celebrant trainers. This involved practical exercises, including speaking, writing, listening, questioning, presenting; problem solving and exploration of tricky situations (e.g. ways of responding to requests for religious content); exploring the nature of humanism and our understanding of it; input on the scope of the work; practical guidance for family visits and leading funerals including music, readings, structures, language. The final weekend involved one day based in a crematorium for role play funerals with coffin, a behind the scenes tour of the Crematorium and a role play burial.

We also had four written assignments based on case studies with feedback, worked with a mentor (going on family visits; observing funerals), observed funerals by other celebrants, and were expected to do continuing professional development every year and be peer reviewed every three years.

3. What is your approach to funeral planning with a bereaved family?

I note the details of the person who has died (generally, though not always, received from a Funeral Director) and the main contact (generally a family member). I ring to make an appointment. I then prepare my blank page notebook with my checklist[1].I am there to listen. I need to be in a position to write a ceremony (or help the family write it) which captures the life and personality of the person and evokes the memories and stories for the assembled family, friends, colleagues as they say their goodbyes.  I want to help them have a point of reference so they will continue to share memories and tell their stories after the ceremony. People often assume I knew the person well.

I establish how involved the family/friends want to be; how much work they’ve already done.  I often start with a family tree to get a picture of the family in my head. I tend to ask whether the person who has died was ill for long, to give the family a chance to tell me the story of their death if they choose to.  Sometimes this is told in great detail and needs to be said before they can move on to remembering their lives.

Generally, I give an outline for the ceremony[2]but stress that there are no ‘oughts’. If I am doing the main ‘tribute’ or an overview of the person’s life (before contributions from family and friends) I ask open ended questions about the person’s life.  I need to get a sense of the kind of person s/he was; their life; collective family memories and stories.  There is always a story to tell but when the family/friends can’t tell me much, I ask more questions to trigger memories and as a last resort ask, “Did they have a dog?”  Several times I’ve been able to find an appropriate animal or nature poem when the narrative is sparse. In these situations, I also ask if there is anyone else I can talk to.

I also need to gauge the tone for the ceremony from the tone of the conversation with family/friends: what emotional dimension to convey; level of formality. If the family are going to do the main tribute I need to get a picture of the person first hand from our conversation (rather than wait for scripts from contributors) so I can write the opening and closing words and get the tone right.

I end the conversation by going through my checklist (unless things are covered earlier).  I want the family to visualise the occasion and think about how they want to go in at the start; whether the curtains are to stay open or close.  The final questions are about the important words I use: e.g. “We are remembering, saying goodbye. Are we celebrating, honouring, paying tribute to….?”  The dress code question also helps me gauge the family’s vision for the ceremony: all black, dark colours, range of colours i.e. degrees of formality.

Sometimes the ceremony evolves over the period between the family visit and the ceremony. There might not be a formal committal.  Sometimes I just do the opening, committal and the closing words. Sometimes the tone is conversational or even a conversation round the coffin (within a structure which acknowledges time constraints.) Sometimes the planning is done over the phone and via email – always more difficult to judge the tone with long distance planning!

4. Do you have a humanist liturgy or liturgies you use or a set form of choreography?

There is a structure for humanist ceremonies, which is flexible and often adapted to suit different families/groups of friends:

• Entry music (sometimes gathering music and then entry music).  Sometimes people choose to follow the coffin in; others choose to be in the chapel/hall before the coffin comes in and stand when it does.  In some chapels it’s possible to arrange for the coffin to be in position before people arrive.
• Opening words
• Thoughts about life and death(I generally don’t include this. I’m not there to preach.)
• Remembering X (my terminology; often known as tribute(s) or eulogy)
• Reflection, generally to music
• The Committal
• Closing words
• Music to leave by.

5. What resources would you especially recommend for humanist funeral planning?

• A collection of readings, poetry and prose, varied in tone and accessibility, from the popular to the more obscure, to offer families/friends, particularly for the committal i.e. short readings acting as words of farewell. Also useful to have (or to be able to find) are readings for particular interests e.g. gardening, wildlife, cycling, animals, sailing and the sea.
• A collection of readings suitable for burials and woodland burials.
• Some readings suitable for the deaths of babies and children and people who have killed themselves.

I was surprise in the early days that readings (apart from the one at the committal) are not generally of importance to most people.

• A collection of images for the front page of the script presented to the family. I mostly use a generic abstract motif but use favourite flowers or other relevant images.  The script for the family must be well presented.  I give the family a copy/copies after the ceremony is over.
• Knowledge of a range of music is helpful though not essential. I have often recommended a piece of music, particularly classical, when the family ask for guidance. I like to be in charge of the music and order it rather than the funeral director.  I can arrange edit points where needed and choose appropriate versions.  My musical knowledge has increased to cover genres I wasn’t familiar with before doing this work.

6. Do you carry out any secular/humanist rituals as elements of funeral services? If so, please describe them.

• Standing when the coffin is carried in; standing for the committal, the formal goodbye; the family approaching the coffin at the committal or after the closing words to touch it, for a private farewell, to place a flower on the coffin. Often just the immediate family but sometimes everyone as they leave.
• The committal is the most ‘solemn’ moment. I ask everyone to stand,  use a form of words and then read a short poem or piece of prose chosen with the family at the family meeting.  Then a pause before we continue.  I sit people down for the closing words.  Sometimes we play a piece of music instead of or as well as a reading.
• When I leave, which I do during the final music before anyone else leaves, I stand in front of the coffin with a very slight bow of my head. I think of this an act of respect and my last connection with the person whose life I hope I have captured so that people present have made connections, said their farewells.
• Greeting people before the ceremony and being present afterwards if anyone wants to talk to me. I don’t leave till the family go.

7. Since you do not offer hope of an afterlife, how do you bring comfort to bereaved relatives?

I emphasise the continuing bond between the dead and the living through shared memories and the stories the bereaved will tell about the person who has died. I talk about the ways people live on after their death through children, grandchildren etc; through what they have said, done, made, written (as appropriate); through the influence they have had; through their legacy e.g. of love and laughter; of passing on skills: DIY, gardening, cooking…..).  Pericles’ words from 5^thCentury BCE are useful: ‘what we leave behind is not what is engraved on stone monuments but what is woven into the lives of others.’

From feedback which families give me, I know that they find the process of talking to me in preparation and the ceremony itself a comfort. People have written to thank me for giving them the opportunity to reflect on a life, and on the wonder of that life.

8. Do you help the terminally ill to plan their own funerals or do you only work with relatives after a death?

I have done a number of such meetings and subsequent ceremonies with terminally ill people.  I have also done ceremonies for people who want to leave a script behind when they die (they may have no family; want a non-religious ceremony but don’t trust the family to follow their wishes).  The script is often attached to their wills to make their wishes clear.

9. What are the greatest challenges and most rewarding aspects of your role?

• Challenges:
  • The biggest challenge is when I discover that the person who has died was not liked or loved; this emerges during the conversation. It is very difficult to find the words to express such people’s lives.  I have found a form of words to do this.
  • Taking on the views of ‘combined’ or conflicted families. I share my draft script with the client (the person who has instructed the funeral director – sometimes a direct instruction from a client) but when they have shared this with others, coping with vetos on certain information is challenging along with negotiating a script which acknowledges and gives voice to a range of opinions.
  • Funerals for babies and children.
  • Funerals for people who have taken their own lives. I have to establish how explicit the family/friends want to be about what has happened (this has ranged from full acknowledgement of suicide; alluding to it; not mentioning it at all).
  • Murder: I have done one ceremony for someone who was murdered and for someone who murdered his wife.
• Rewards:
  • Building trust with a family/group of friends so they talk freely. Telling the stories of people’s lives.  Making connections with a person or a family at an intense level culminating with the ceremony.  Feedback from people who appreciate what I’ve done.  Knowing I have made a difficult experience rewarding for the family.  Helping a family recall the person and helping with the continuing bond between the living and the dead.

10. How do religious attendees of humanist funerals respond to their experience?

People who have said they were Christians have volunteered various opinions: that they found the ceremony moving, with a spiritual dimension, serious, rather beautiful. The most negative thing (so far) was a thank you followed by a statement that they were Christians. Was the implication that my ceremony wasn’t legitimate?

11. While your clients are those who claim no religious affiliation, do some of them nonetheless have unorthodox beliefs in supernatural things or superstitions, which influence their approach to the funeral?

I have done a funeral for a spiritualist. Her friends painted a picture of her life, beliefs and involvement in spiritualism in their tributes but this did not shape the non-religious framing of the ceremony.

I am currently writing ceremonies for a couple in their eighties who are pagans. That part of their lives is covered in the narrative but the ceremonies are non-religious and not shaped by paganism.  They approached me through my website and through conversation with me established that I would represent their lives in a non-religious ceremony. They don’t want a pagan ceremony.

12. How do you think we as a society could learn to better cope with loss and the prospect of our own deaths?

I think we should talk about death in conversation but also be practical and arrange both powers of attorney for health and welfare and Advance Decision Directives.  Just completing these leads to conversations about dying and death.

These documents should be better known.  Advanced Decision Directives come in various versions, some of which are very complicated.  I recommend the version published by Compassion in Dying.  I think these documents should be better known, perhaps through lawyers/Financial Advisers where people have them; through GP surgeries; through day centres; through secondary schools perhaps part of the Personal, Social & Health Education programme.

I think children should grow up knowing that people die and use the language of dying.  There’s some good practice of making memory boxes for children when a close relation is dying or has died.  Don’t cover death up with euphemisms. I don’t understand why ‘passed away’ has gained so much currency. I use the words “died” and “death” in my scripts. Occasionally the clients change this to “passed away” and “passing” when they review the script I send and I have to respect this.

My husband John’s death, two years ago, has given me a perspective on dying and death which I didn’t have before he died (discussed below). We had sorted out powers of attorney for health and welfare but hadn’t got round to Advanced Decision Directives.  I have since completed my advanced directive.

13. What are your thoughts on assisted dying?

I am in favour of assisted dying. I often think that there has to be a better way to die when I hear searing experiences of painful and difficult deaths from my clients.

I also realise that assisted dying is not without difficulties. John was in terrible pain while dying of prostate cancer (locally advanced when diagnosed). Neuropathic pain caused when cancer metastasised to the lower spine is very difficult to control.

When it came to it, John didn’t want to die, certainly not before it was unavoidable.  He had found it very difficult to move from treatment over 10 years to palliative care for the last 6 months of his life when death became a reality. He knew that the cancer would kill him and often said so when the cancer was under control.  After it spread, he felt that the oncologist had abandoned him when palliative care took over.  The cancer had spread to his lower spine so his mobility was restricted; his response was to ask for exercises to keep mobile (as he’d done in the past when recovering from running injuries). I think that having to follow the advice that movement would trigger pain so avoid unnecessary movement meant he no longer had control.  On the other hand, I found his extreme pain very difficult to witness.  Would I have wanted an assisted death in his situation? It would have shortened his life by perhaps 4 months.

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[1]Funeral Visit Checklist

Music

Tribute(s)

Readings

Coffin in e.g. follow in; seated before coffin comes in; coffin in position first

Reflection words (do the family want me to mention prayer here)

Committal: curtains (open or closed); reading/music

Thanks yous (if appropriate)

Donations (if any)

Gathering (if there is one)

Key Words

Dress Code

[2]Entry music; opening words; remembering X – i.e. tributes; music for reflection; the committal; closing words; exit music; readings may be interspersed throughout and more music.  Some ceremonies end with the committal.

Humanist Healthcare Chaplaincy: An Interview with Lindsay van Dijk

I am delighted to have had the opportunity to interview Lindsay van Dijk on her work as a humanist pastoral carer and senior NHS chaplain. With half of UK citizens no longer claiming a religious affiliation, demand is increasing for nonreligious pastoral care in hospitals, prisons, universities, schools, workplaces and the military. When human beings can no longer seek solace in their imagined gods, they must seek solace in one another.

Dr Anastasia E. Somerville-Wong, Lead Editor, Secular Liturgies

Lindsay van Dijk

Lindsay is a humanist pastoral carer and a member of the Non-Religious Pastoral Support Network. She is the first humanist in charge of an NHS pastoral care and chaplaincy department.

Lindsay trained to Master’s level in the Netherlands at the University of Humanistic Studies (in Utrecht) to provide humanist and existential counselling, coaching and pastoral care. She is a member of the British Association for Counselling & Psychotherapy (BACP) and the British Association for the Person-Centered Approach (BAPCA). Lindsay is accredited as a pastoral carer through the UK Board of healthcare Chaplaincy (UKBHC), the Non-Religious Pastoral Support Network (NRPSN) and as a humanist funeral celebrant at Humanists U.K.

Lindsay van Dijk

1. What inspired you to become a nonreligious/humanist pastoral support worker?

I was always interested the the philosophical questions of life – ever since I was a child. I would ask myself why we were here and how to lead a life with purpose and how to create meaning, or why we can be so mean to one-another.  When I was younger I didn’t yet know that there was a whole university dedicated to such questions – namely the University of Humanistic Studies in Utrecht, the Netherlands. When I discovered that I could learn about humanism, philosophy, sociology, psychology and much more – while training towards my MA degree for humanist pastoral care – it was a no-brainer and I instantly felt at home.

2. What kind of training is most helpful for the role?

Any background of counselling and psychology, or communication skills would be helpful. There are programs for humanist and existential pastoral care within London and the Netherlands, or specific healthcare chaplaincy courses. Anyone working within pastoral care or chaplaincy work would, however, need endorsement from their faith or belief community. In the case of humanist pastoral care, the individual concerned would need to follow an accreditation course through Humanists U.K.’s non-religious pastoral support network (NRPSN) in order to receive endorsement for the humanist belief group. This would need to be pursued regardless of a counselling, psychology or even an MA in humanist and existential pastoral care course.

3. Which thinkers, writers or philosophers have influenced your perspectives on life, death and pastoral care the most?

Many writers and thinkers such as John Rawls, John Stuart Mill, David Hume, Epicurus and Steven Pinker, but also Jan Hein Mooren (who describes the practice of a humanist pastoral carer and its difference to psychotherapeutic practices) and Greg Epstein’s book called ‘Good without God’, where he describes morality from a non-religious perspective.

4. What methods do you use to help patients and their families cope with physical/mental suffering?

With humanist pastoral care we stay in the moment of what the person is experiencing, which can indeed be physical or mental suffering. I try to stay alongside the experience of that person, which includes their thoughts and feelings but also their values and worldviews with regards to their experience.

The difference between humanist pastoral care and psychotherapeutic practices can be described through two frames of reference: the first frame of reference for the humanist pastoral carer is the person’s worldview, which includes their values and morality (codes or rules they live by). The second frame of reference is the method that accompanies this, which includes lending an empathic, non-judgemental listening ear, and to provide enough space for the person to share his or her story while staying in that precise moment in time.

Psychotherapeutic practices have this the other way around, where the first frame of reference is the method, may that be existential, integrative, psychoanalytic, CBT etcetera. The second frame of reference might include the worldview of the person along with their values and morality. On top of that, psychotherapeutic practices also try to link the past and the current situation to each other in order to hopefully work towards a different outcome in the future. The entrance to psychotherapeutic practices is usually the point at which a ‘client’ describes an issue he/she would like support with. This is followed up by a set amount of sessions of a certain length of time, and these usually take place in the same location.

A humanist pastoral carer needs to stay in the moment because their encounters are bedside or on a prison ward, where there isn’t a specific time to talk to the individual or a set location. Due to the unpredictable environment of a hospital or prison, you’re not always sure if you’re seeing the person the week after. Therefore, the contact is open ended and a specific issue isn’t required to enter the service. It is immediate support, provided for that specific moment in time.

5. Since you do not offer people the hope of an afterlife, how do you help them to make the most of the time they have?

Humanists or non-religious people do not believe in an afterlife, and therefore, wouldn’t require any ‘hope’ or ‘salvation’ for this. It can still be scary to near the end of your life, however, and most of my encounters have been around voicing concerns they have, if any. I’ve also noticed that most people would like to reminisce about their lives and share what they’ve seen or done. People also often talk about the relationships they cherish with friends, family or even with pets. With nonreligious funeral ceremonies, family members often refer to the deceased living on through their memories, in contrast with  religious funerals, where they might believe in a heaven.

6. Do you carry out any secular rituals or preside over any secular liturgical gatherings as part of your work? If so, please describe a few of these.

Part of my work is to provide funerals for those who are humanist or non-religious. I also provide baby naming services for the parents and their families. Once a year, I provide a baby memorial service, and on a monthly basis, I provide baby funerals, which are organised from the hospital. Humanist services are often personalised according to what the person would like. Therefore, there isn’t a prescribed way of doing this. A good example would be humanist funerals, where the tribute is the heart of the service. The tribute is written in as personal a way as possible, with the family including those special memories of the deceased, which ensure a very personal ceremony.

7. What are the most common questions, expectations and requests that patients make of you?

Most of the time, people just want to share what they’re going through while in hospital. This could be a scary and emotional time for people. Even people who have a supportive network still like to speak to someone like me. Often friends and family members are too close to the person and it gets harder to show worries, fears, sadness or even anger. I remember one time, when I was asked to support a patient in hospital who was non-religious, I walked into the bay and noticed her husband was with her, so I mentioned to her that I could come back at a later time so they could enjoy their time together. The woman told me that wasn’t necessary and asked cheerfully whether her husband could entertain himself elsewhere so she could speak to me. Her smile changed rather quickly when he turned the corner of the bay and she started to burst out in tears. I sat next to her, letting her cry. It felt like there were a lot of feelings she had accumulated, which she needed to express. When she looked at me after a while, she told me she had always been the head of the family and that she didn’t wanted to worry anyone. However, she was scared as her condition was deteriorating and her time on earth was running out. We spoke about her fears, worries, hopes and dreams. She then realised herself, at the end of our talk, that she wanted to write down her life story to leave behind for her family after she passed away – just to leave something physical of herself behind.

8. Do you speak only with humanist, atheist and other nonreligious patients?

At my Trust we provide ‘generic chaplaincy’ which means that anyone of our multi-faith and belief service can respond to referrals of any background, ethnicity, faith or belief. With the encounters I’ve had, it mostly revolves around the relationship you build with the person. I remember when I supported someone who was Roman Catholic. When I asked her whether she wanted to speak to someone of her own worldview, she said she wanted to continue seeing me, as she felt able to share her feelings with me. When she was discharged from hospital, she wrote me a lovely card thanking ‘Lindsay the humanist’ for the support she had received from me. However, there are times when people are able to share more when they speak to someone of their own worldview, and we can then refer them to someone else in the team. The team works, therefore, very closely together. We also provide specific support when requested by the person. The service is firstly and foremost person-centred.

9. What are the greatest challenges of leading a pastoral care team composed of people with very different world views?

Shattering assumptions… When I first started as humanist lead, a lot of people had assumptions about what humanism entailed. Many people thought it was the same as just being an atheist, or that I wanted to secularise the department. I urged them to ask the ‘difficult questions’ in order to foster an open and transparent work environment, and to shatter these assumptions (which we all make). When we make assumptions, it can shut down our curiosity, and with this our own learning process and understanding. I therefore organised a multi-faith and belief day, where we all shared about our faiths and beliefs to understand each other better. It was brilliant to see how this helped towards creating a warm, caring and open culture. It was the Roman Catholic sister that summarised adequately that we all share a love for what we do and that we all have compassion for people.

10. How would you like to see nonreligious pastoral care work develop going into the future?

We’ve had humanist pastoral carers in the Netherlands since the 1950’s, and this is now rapidly developing in the U.K. within healthcare and prisons. I would love to see it develop further in the armed forces and police service, as people working within these settings encounter very challenging situations. It might help support them to talk to someone of a likeminded worldview.

Spiritual Direction (Ignatian tradition): An Interview with Elizabeth White

While the focus of the SLN&F is on secular liturgies and liturgical events, as opposed to religious ones, we nonetheless take inspiration from the insights and reflective practices of many of the world’s religious and philosophical traditions, especially from the more progressive and inclusive streams and schools of thought.

With this in mind, I approached Elizabeth White, a Spiritual Director in the Ignatian tradition and Pastoral Supervisor, to learn about her approach to spirituality, reflective practice and pastoral care. I hope you will appreciate, as much as I did, her thoughtful responses to the questions I sent her.

A small group of us within the SLN recently adapted a Buddhist text on compassionate speech to make it a Secular Buddhist text, and then we applied a modified version of Lectio Divina (a Benedictine practice of scriptural reading) to study it, meditate upon it and engage creatively with elements of it. Similarly, many of the pastoral concepts and reflective techniques Elizabeth uses, such as the imaginative approach to a text inspired by Ignatious of Loyola, are inclusive, or can be adapted for use in a secular context.

Dr Anastasia E. Somerville-Wong (Interviewer and Editor of Secular Liturgies)

 

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Elizabeth White is a spiritual director, trainer and senior accredited pastoral supervisor. She previously coordinated the adult learning programme for the Diocese of Edinburgh (Scottish Episcopal Church) and now works freelance under the umbrella of Reflective Spaces, with a variety of individuals and groups, in person and via her online platform.

https://www.reflectivespaces.org.uk

Elizabeth White

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What are the personal reasons and experiences which led you to your work with Reflective Spaces?

Growing up in church, I became unwell in my teens and in my twenties began to meet with a spiritual director – an ancient way of being accompaniment on our inner journey. At a time when my own life experience and my experience of church did not connect, I greatly valued the companionship of another as we talked and listened together. It was a safe place to hold on – however fleetingly – to the things I still wanted and believed in, and to let go of others; to slowly rebuild my relationship with myself, others and God and to redefine my experience of faith and community. 25 years later I have more sense of being enabled to hold together my experiences of what I might call brokenness, grace and gratitude. And out of this I offer various ‘Reflective Spaces’ to others who come with their very individual ‘spiritual’ stories.

What methods do you use in your Reflective Spaces work to facilitate reflection and spiritual exploration?

Having received spiritual direction for several years I trained to accompany others and this contemplative listening undergirds a lot of my work in Reflective Spaces. Spiritual ‘direction’ is a bit of misnomer; the image I like best for accompanying is that of a midwife helping to birth what is already seeded and emerging within us, rather than the instructional teaching we might see in some faith traditions. Also in spiritual direction, people can bring anything to the (usually monthly) space, it can encompass all things, not just the ‘spiritual’. The ‘direction’ does not come from the director, but is in the direction your life has the potential to take at its fullest and most free. And it lies with ‘Spirit’, the true director of all. So we listen together for how people experience their soul; their deepest, truest self – perhaps experiences which are already within a person but they may not yet know it. Together we notice where Life, Spirit, Kindness, God etc is in all aspects of life, and what that might mean for the person.

Later, I completed a diploma in Creative and Pastoral Supervision and added this as a resourcing support to my portfolio of Reflective Spaces across helping professions, often one-to-one but also in small groups. I sometimes use cards, images, objects, somatic/body awareness and various other ‘tools’ to go ‘behind the scenes, beneath the words’ – it’s amazing what we become aware of when our heads gets out of the way! There is more about my supervision and reflective practice work on my website www.reflectivespaces.org.uk/supervision

What ideas, traditions and people inspired the Reflective Spaces work?

My spiritual direction training was in the Ignatian tradition and I had also previously made the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius – a series of mostly scripture based meditations, often using ‘imaginative contemplation’ (See the short article included below entitled ‘Praying with Scripture’). Together with the Ignatian guidelines which offered me a revolutionary approach to discernment and how I could make good decisions those years were a really formational time, which offered a different framework to hold alongside my evangelical roots. www.ignatianspirituality.com/what-is-ignatian-spirituality

Around 2003 I set up a fortnightly reflective prayer group with a friend, which I was involved with for six years. Writing and learning how to ‘hold’ 45 minute meditations was a large part of what formed my way of being with others – because I came to see that I could only offer what I had just lived that week; it’s the only authentic way to offer reflective material I think, so I was processing a lot of my own relationship with God, self, contemplative journey as well as my vulnerabilities by writing material with a very immediate theme for those who came to the group. We found a real hunger for stillness and ‘a different way of seeing’ in those who came over the years, and it’s absolutely true that what you give out is actually your own teacher. On a practical basis I enjoyed networking and began to send out news to this group of other reflective or spirituality events in and around Edinburgh which I was involved with or had links to. This email list still exists for new sign-ups today, and as my work has grown with individuals and groups it is all now hosted under the umbrella of Reflective Spaces.

On your website, you use terms such as ‘soul’, ‘spirit’, ‘God’ and ‘prayer’. What do these words mean to you personally, and how do you approach your work with clients who have different views and understandings of these things?

l’ve just spent this weekend listening to a webinar conference with the Center for Action and Contemplation: “Incarnation is the oldest Christian Story; through Christ, God is pouring God’s self into all of creation. To be a Christian, then, is to see Christ in every one and every thing” (Richard Rohr). I’m still digesting this, but I think it says something of the shift in me from coming at life via the lens of who is in and who is out, who is right and who is wrong, gay or straight, subject and object, heaven or hell, Christian and non-Christian. If I’d been born in India I would probably be a Hindu or a Muslim; I happen to have had a strong Christian upbringing and have moved away from a more black and white belief system to an experiential sense of ‘the other’. This is mediated to me most often through the familiarity of Christian symbol and story as well as nature, dance, relationship etc. At the same time I often ‘don’t know’, and I’m much more OK with that – living with not knowing, mystery, and paradox. It concerns me much more when poor church teaching or other influences leave people trapped in a ‘system’ of oughts around belief, prayer, behaviour and especially in unhelpful images of god etc.

I suppose I’m motivated as a personality by truth and freedom – so, truth in terms of starting with where people actually are not where they feel they should be (and sometimes that truth is buried under quite a lot of layers and takes gentle love and compassion to reveal), and freedom in terms of each of us being utterly loved, reconnecting with our ‘original goodness’, being freed slowly from old patterns that hold us back towards fullness of life. It’s the quiet, compassionate yet transforming contemplative traditions of different religions or philosophies where people can most happily and supportively ‘meet’ – whether that’s Christian or Buddhist meditation, Sufi practices, a deep yoga etc. We have much to share and offer each other,  I love to work with people who are searching, self-reflective and open to exploring whatever their ‘faith’ is – or isn’t. Language is often limiting and misunderstood which is maybe why I gravitate increasingly towards the wisdom of the body work and the use of more creative ‘ways in’ to what some might call our ‘spiritual’ lives. But I hope I can both show a face of ‘Christ’ to those I work with and meet ‘Christ’ in them, however they name or imagine the divine; we meet through experience rather than definition.

What are the key principles and methods of spiritual direction and supervision, and how do they differ from mainstream therapies such as counselling?

I’m not formally trained in theology or psychology; the principal of a theological school once told me that my theology was ‘sound and profound’, in the sense that I ‘speak of the things of God’ most days of the week – in my inner self, and for and with others. And having received personally from many gifted therapists over the years I work in a therapeutically-rich way. Good Spiritual Direction can at times be as deep as the best of theology and the best of therapy. A book written by a colleague ‘Psychotherapy and Spiritual Direction: Two Languages, One Voice?’ puts forward the perhaps contentious question of whether Spiritual Direction is really ‘just’ another psychotherapeutic method. Whatever the answer to that, I think the key principles are initially similar – establishing a working alliance, building trust, confidentiality, inclusivity; my original direction training was person-centred so unconditional positive regard, empathy and congruence as well as awareness of transference issues and unconscious process are all important.

The methods differ slightly in that direction (and supervision) happen usually every 4 – 6 weeks whereas counselling might more likely be once a week. Also direction often continues for many years, sometimes a lifetime, whereas counselling takes the time it needs until the ‘problem’ has resolved, or the client has built enough of their own resources for them to move on from sessions. Spiritual direction doesn’t so often use the relationship that is in the room in the same way that counselling might to work with issues (this does depend on the counselling tradition too) but it points more to the relationship with ‘the other’, the ‘more than’, with ‘God’.

So, overall good therapy can be ‘spiritual’ and spiritual direction can be ‘therapeutic’, it largely depends on who you work, how much of their own spiritual or therapeutic journeys they have engaged with and also what the person comes seeking as a directee or client. Perhaps one topical  distinction to note – which I have a particular interest in currently – is that there is more of a culture of accountability around counselling and therapy i.e. accreditation systems, insurance and CPD as ‘expected norms’ whereas Spiritual Direction is just beginning to grapple with these questions, perhaps where therapy was 40 years ago. Some training course and local groups have codes of practice and most (but not all) directors will now be supervised. But there is far less of a ‘professional’ culture around direction, which is linked to its roots growing up through religious communities, and because it is seen as ‘ministry’ which for some people is not compatible with professionalism. I’m involved in a fairly new project looking at the possibility of a national accreditation organisation for spiritual direction www.reflectivespaces.org.uk/consultation. The Association for Pastoral Supervision and Education already exists in this role for pastoral supervisors   www.pastoralsupervision.org.uk. Accreditation is an issue which raises very strong feeling for people in all sorts of ways, yet as our society changes and becomes more accountability-conscious perhaps even this ancient ministry needs to develop in new ways to support and enliven best practice. Watch this space!

What benefits do your projects bring to individuals and to wider society? Or, put in another way, what problems do they help to solve?

This reminds me of a story from Anthony de Mello (Jesuit priest who lived in India www.demellospirituality.com) about a spiritual seeker who came to him asking for a definition of spirituality, and de Mello answered with the word “awareness”. The seeker, said “oh you’ll have to give me more than that”. And Anthony de Mello replied “awareness, awareness, and awareness”. If my work can be a small part in helping people become more aware of their own inner lives and how they choose to live that out wisely and lovingly, whether related to how they pray, or in work, relationships with others, as a parent or activist, then the world – their world and the butterfly effect around them – will be changed. As soon as we become aware we have choice. And choice in wise hands can be a huge power for good.

Ignatious of Loyola

Praying with Scripture by Elizabeth White

‘Tradition is large. It is crammed with a wonderful range of pictures of God – as seamstress sewing clothes for Adam and Eve, as architect designing the ark and the temple, as a dinner party host, as wind, as fire and rock and water. We need such storehouses of images to elaborate our own views.’

~ Ann and Barry Ulanov: The Healing imagination ~

A Bigger Story Meets Our Own

In a society of high stimulation, moving images and rapid change, how can we pray in a way that also brings colour, creativity, surprise and is an anchor in our lives? I have found that ‘Imaginative Prayer’ opens doors to new experiences of myself and of God. When I think prayer ‘should’ be quiet and holy but my being yearns for a more obvious life-impacting connection, praying imaginatively with Scripture has brought something visceral or yet deeply intimate.

Let’s take Jacob, for example (Genesis 32:22–32), locked in a battle with an angel? With God? With himself? I’ve prayed with this story many times when I’ve felt tossed about by life, wrestling with myself or others. I’ve found companionship with Jacob who ‘wins’ – in terms of keeping his life – but who is wounded. I have come through alive, but changed forever, and bearing the scars. And like Jacob I have been touched by God.

Blind Bartimaeus (Mark 10:46–52) calls on Jesus passing by and, in imagination, I have heard Jesus’ same question to Bartimaeus echoing in my own life: ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ Surely Bartimaeus’ answer was obvious, with his unseeing eyes? But as I imagined this character from long ago I have discovered come to some unexpected responses of my own. What it is that I reallywant of God?

And Mary, oh Mary, the womanly ally and motherly friend I have come to know through imaginative prayer using various passages: a small cosy stone house, baking bread in the kitchen, Jesus popping in occasionally, a stone window seat and a carpenter’s rocking chair, places I return to talk and find comfort ‘when all else fails’ (and why not sooner?). I know this place well.

Scripture is full of symbol and metaphor: Jesus’ sermons, parables and life stories often bring unexpected images – a camel through the eye of a needle, pigs flinging themselves over a cliff, a bleeding woman. Imagination, like our senses, is a gift from God. Used reflectively with discernment, it leads us to insight and ongoing revelation of self and of God.

St Ignatius, in particular, encouraged the use of imagination in his 16th-century ‘Spiritual Exercises’, a series of prayerful and deepening meditations around the life of Christ. Rediscovered by today’s spiritual seekers and pilgrims, you can ‘Pray Now’ using this same imaginative method in simple steps:

• Choose a passage – narrative stories from the Gospels are often a good place to begin.
• Find a comfortable yet attentive place and allow yourself to simply arrive. I often light a candle and take a couple of slower breaths, beginning to touch in to wherever I find myself on the inside and to the sense of ‘the more than’.
• Take a few moments to consider what you hope for as you begin this prayer. Ask God for what you most desire in your heart: what is the gift you are seeking today?
• Read the passage several times until you are familiar with the story. Don’t try to make anything happen, but just listen to the story as a content child might listen at bedtime.
• Then slowly allow the scene to arise within you, taking your time. What initial images comes to mind? What do you see? Is it hot or raining? What do you smell, touch, hear? Use all your senses to ‘see’ the story.
• Who is there? And begin to notice where you are in the story: one of the characters, or someone looking on. Which part of the story do you identify with or see yourself in? Let the story unfold, without consciously directing it. Don’t worry if things surprise you, or if the story develops a little differently from what you expect; God can come to us in many ways.
• What happens next? Is Jesus there? What do you find yourself saying or doing? How are you feeling as you are part of all this? Stay with the story as long you want to, waiting as it evolves.

In my own praying, I sometimes find surprising things strike me, and sometimes not much at all. But in either case, often a shift comes as I close the imaginative prayer and speak with God about what has just happened– or not happened! The more honest I am with God, the freer I feel, and then a new awareness may come; I am met by God – and Jesus’ story meets my own.

(‘Praying with Scripture’ first appeared in Pray Now: Word of Life, Copyright © Resourcing Worship Team, Mission and Discipleship Council, The Church of Scotland 2017)