There has already been a golf course in Rochester’s Cathedral. A helter skelter in Norwich. A Star Wars display in Peterborough. A Silent Disco was held in Ely Abbey. And now the mother church, our nation’s most significant religious building, Canterbury Cathedral, the seat of the Most Reverend and Right Honourable the Lord Archbishop, Justin Welby, is to follow suit.
Either Welby is ignorant of what is planned by his dean, David Monteith, or he is aware of it and supposedly happy for it to happen, which would make him ignorant of his job. The Rave in the Nave, as it shall probably be known, will take place over two nights in February and is a strictly 18+ event, featuring plenty of alcohol and the music of the ‘90s: Britney, Spice Girls, Eminem, and the Vengaboys.
The usual pitiful arguments are given to justify this latest embarrassing sacrilege: “It will get young people visiting the Cathedral who wouldn’t normally, bringing them in touch with Christianity.” I’m sure.
Profound exhortations such as the Real Slim Shady’s “My bum is on your lips, if I’m lucky you might give it a little kiss” as well as his theological musings that “if we can hump dead animals and antelopes, then there’s no reason that a man and another man can’t elope,” will be beamed into the headphones of intoxicated ravers while they contemplate the ancient architecture and 14 centuries of Christian history that they have stumbled into. A life-changing experience, which the dean must be sure will yield many Damascene conversions.
“But it will raise money for the maintenance of the Cathedral!” Entry price is roughly thirty pieces of silver (£30.95 actually—even Judas is vulnerable to inflation), and a thousand ravers are expected each night. Kerching! Let’s do Casino Night next—perhaps we can roll dice for the bloodied garments of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Strippers’ night would be a hit as well: imagine the cash that could be generated by nubile dancers sliding down the Anglo-Saxon Reculver columns! “Navels in the Nave”—a sure money spinner. “Hot Tubs in the House of God” has a nice ring to it too.
Actually, I don’t want to give the dean any more ideas. Because based on the logic that the Cathedral needs to entertain, increase young footfall and rake in the denarii, there really is no red line which cannot be crossed. He is perfectly happy to break his own laws, as the Anglican Canons of the Church of England explicitly command that churches not be “profaned by any meeting therein for temporal objects inconsistent with the sanctity of the place” and any secular music played must be “consonant with sound doctrine, and make for the edifying of the people.” Hit me baby one more time!
Honour the sacred
The gaping vacuum that clearly exists in the minds of Welby, Monteith and their fellow progressive clerics is the lack of any sense of the sacred. Which is ordinarily sort of a big deal in religion. Profaning sacred spaces for a quick buck is one of the few things which caused Welby’s ultimate boss, Our Lord Jesus Christ, to unleash His righteous fury, which upset the corrupt priesthood enough to call for crucifixion:
Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the money changers, and the seats of them that sold doves, And said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but ye have made it a den of robbers. (Matt 21:12-13)
I understand that appealing to something as passé as Canons or Scripture might not be sufficient to persuade Welby and Monteith of the seriousness with which sacred spaces ought to be treated, so let me try to explain in secular modern terms. For the sense of the sacred still exists, even for atheists, in institutions and sites where worldly power is invested or intense human experiences have been shared.
Would it be appropriate for the Speaker of the House of Lords to hold a rave in the Chamber which scrutinises our laws and hosts our noble parliamentary traditions, to raise a few quid for the repair fund?
Would it be appropriate for the health service to announce discos in intensive care units, where so much human anguish and healing is palpably concentrated, to raise funds for more ventilators?
Would it be appropriate for the Commonwealth War Graves Commission to open up their vast cemeteries for youth to dance among the ivory tombs of men their own age who gave their tomorrows for our ungrateful and ignorant todays?
If the answer to these is a resounding no, then what makes us think that the most important religious building in our country, the site of the martyrdom and relics of Saint Thomas Becket, the repository for the mortal remains of kings, princes and bishops, the destination of millions of pilgrims for centuries, the inspiration for our greatest early work of literature, and most importantly, the site of countless prayers and sacraments—the House of God—should be treated with any less respect?
How dare Archbishop Welby and Dean Monteith, as custodians of this monumental site, betray the communion of innumerable Christians, both living and dead, of their own denomination and beyond, who treasure this place and would see it treated with the honour it deserves.
By cheapening and profaning Canterbury, they do nothing to transmit the truth, beauty and goodness of the Christian faith. They simply declare that they are unserious about their religion, that its history and message are unimportant, that the church is flailing around for a sense of relevance, and should be disregarded in favour of those who have confidence and are serious about the alternatives they offer.
Silent discos are fun. But Canterbury Cathedral is more than fun. It is sacred.
What would Jesus do?
So what should concerned Christians, and those who treasure their heritage, do about this latest embarrassment? Shall we shake our heads and ignore it, as we have done with countless other desecrations in other important sites? Or scoff that it’s just the Anglicans, you know what they’re like!
Read it all at the European Conservative
