Dear England

For a good few years – while he was Bishop of Chelmsford and I was Moderator of the United Reformed Church’s Eastern Synod – Stephen Cottrell was a good colleague, part of the group of Essex church leaders with whom I met regularly for prayer and conversation (and, pre-pandemic, breakfast).

I have learned to value his insights and wisdom, and so was interested to read Dear England, even though I should now probably have rejected it purely on the basis of the title. However, in fairness to Stephen, he does explain why it is specifically for England, and indeed why some of the differences in Scotland make that the case. Of course, that does not mean that those of us who are north of the border have nothing to gain from reading the book.

It is typical of Stephen that a chance encounter on a railway station would get him thinking as to what he really would like to have said, at length, to the young lady who interrupted his coffee buying. Indeed, I am reminded of a similar encounter on a train from York to London. Not wearing a clerical collar, and so, unlike Stephen, not identifiably Christian, I, after a while, responded to the conversation started by the young man sitting opposite. It turned out that he was interested to discuss spiritual matters, but it was a short conversation, as he was leaving the train at the next stop. I wished we had spoken sooner – but who knows the effect of such passing conversations?

Bishop (or now, Archbishop) Stephen uses his experience to reflect on how we relate to each other and the contribution that Christians can and should make to that. He recognises that much is possible. “We know that love is not a finite resource. You can give it all away completely and still have every bit of it left to give again. We know that there isn’t a limited supply of love. You don’t need to ration it. You don’t need to give just a small slice of love away so that there will be enough to go round. I can give you all of my love, the whole caboodle, and still have all of it left to give to another. And another. And another. Love replenishes itself by being given away. So God is constantly giving and receiving and overflowing, because God is love.”

Do we let our faith, and the love that spills out from it make the difference that it should? – “the Beatitudes are a set of values and attitudes by which we can inhabit the world differently and through which we can begin to see what matters in the world and what must be done. The Beatitudes describe what it means to live as a child of the God who is love and in God’s commonwealth of love in action. They are anchored in Jesus’ own life and ministry.”

He points out that “God does want to change me, but not into someone else (which, on reflection, seems to be the message of the world, forever trying to sell me a highly idealised version of what humanity could be if, clambering over the backs of others, I were the one with the fast car and the beautiful body). God wants to change me into something of more lasting beauty: the person I am meant to be.”

Indeed, God wants to make a difference to our lives, but to make us who we were meant to be.