BEFORE the pandemic, about one third of church leaders across the denominations had never used email or newsletters to communicate with their congregation, and most had never used Zoom, a new survey suggests.Half had never used the phone to keep in touch with their flock before the national lockdown forced churches to close.The online survey of 1132 respondents from Anglican (508), Baptist (147), Independent (114), Methodist (110), and Roman Catholic (39) churches, among others, was carried out by the Bible Society in May. It was commissioned by the church insurers Ecclesiastical and seen by the <em>Church Times</em> this week.More than 90 per cent of respondents (1059) said that they had used at least one way of communicating with their congregations which they had not used before March 2020 — most commonly: Zoom (986), phone calls (505), Facebook or Facebook live (364/272), email (443), and a physical or electronic newsletter (422).Other methods of communicating adopted by churches during the pandemic included meeting in-person from a safe distance (266), video chat (142), Twitter (48), and Instagram (35).Most of these channels of communication were used for the first time between March and June 2020, when churches were closed to worshippers and the public (News, 23 March 2020). A small proportion were introduced during the second or third lockdowns (between November 2020 and April 2021) when new rules permitted church buildings to reopen for worship (News, 23 June 2020).The Rector of St Edmund’s, Taverham, in Norfolk, the Revd Paul Seabrook, has been live-streaming informal worship and communion services since 22 March 2020. He said on Tuesday: “At the height of the pandemic, we were getting over 100 visits to our Facebook page a day, ten times as many as beforehand. We’ve had people tuning in from all over the country and even as far away as Arizona.“By using social media, we’ve been able to reach many more people than ever came through the actual church door each week; so it’s definitely something we’re looking to continue offering.”Out of the 1108 people who responded to a question on the impact of these new methods on service attendance, 172 said that they had seen a significant increase; 310 had seen a slight increase; 217 had seen no difference; and 186 did not know what the impact had been.Mr Seabrook has also used Zoom to host weekly coffee mornings and Bible-study sessions, besides providing for people without internet access through printed orders of service. “We’ve seen how effective online services can be, and we’ve invested in some new equipment to help is offer a higher-quality experience for everyone tuning in — but we haven’t lost sight of the fact that our church is for everyone, and not everyone can access the internet.”More than half the respondents (599) had invested money in implementing new forms of communication: for most, this was spent on live-streaming technology (358), cameras (325), or sound equipment (298). Most (738) said that the equipment would continue to be used when the restrictions ended; 87 said that it wouldn’t; and 315 said that they hadn’t thought about it.Most people who said that they would continue to use the technology would do so to stream live services (705); of the 105 who said the opposite, most (59) said that this was because the congregation wanted to resume in-person worship.Out of a set list of activities, which did not include live-streaming services, the newly adopted technology had mainly been used to hold PCC meetings (918 out of 993 responses). Other popular uses listed included hosting public events such as carol services (388), remote choir practice (141), or fund-raising activities (129).Of the 57 people who said that they had not adopted any new forms of communication during the pandemic, 16 gave a lack of expertise as a reason. Others reported a lack of experience (15) and equipment (11), and having a congregation that was not “tech-savvy” (19).The church-operations director at Ecclesiastical Insurance, Michael Angell, said: “Even though many churches are now open again, it is encouraging to see that they plan to continue with these new channels and in doing so welcome their audiences, both new and old, back into their churches.”
Every morning during the 1966 World Cup campaign, Norbert Peter Patrick Paul “Nobby” Stiles would rise early and walk the short distance from the England team hotel in Hendon to St Edward the Confessor’s church in Golder’s Green to attend mass. It’s said that on the morning of the final itself he made his Confession and was therefore in a state of grace before locking horns with Wolfgang Overath and Franz Beckenbauer on the hallowed turf of Wembley.Stiles was a product of the working-class Irish suburbs of Manchester, and became a fixture in the great United teams managed by Sir Matt Busby – another daily Massgoer and son of the Irish diaspora (who held a Papal Knighthood alongside the “K” he received from Queen Elizabeth). There were several more players of Irish extraction in England’s 1966 squad: Gerry Byrne, John Connelly and Ian Callaghan (not to mention Peter Bonetti, whose family were Swiss Italians) and the Irish immigrant backgrounds of many of the current England team are striking: Kalvin Phillips’ mum is Irish and Harry Kane’s dad is from Galway, Harry Maguire’s grandparents come from Northern Ireland, while Declan Rice’s come from Cork – and not only did Jack Grealish (like Rice) represent Ireland in his youth, but he was a talented childhood GAA player too.If anything, Stiles’ religiosity was more unusual for a footballer then than it is now (although Jack Charlton seemed to offer up thanks at the final whistle, and his boss at Leeds, Don Revie, would surprise his roommates by kneeling in prayer at bedtime). For not only have football matches become increasingly liturgical – barely a week goes by without a minute’s silence, or a minute’s applause, black armbands, rainbow laces and compulsory poppies, and now the players actually genuflect before every game – but the faith of the players themselves is more obvious too.Raheem Sterling, Bukayo Saka and Marcus Rashford are all practising Christians – recalling a time when muscular Christianity sprouted football teams across the country, including Everton, Southampton, Manchester City and Bolton Wanderers; and in Rashford’s case his effective campaign to provide free school meals had echoes of the <em>Poor Children’s Dinner Table</em>, a charity in Glasgow founded by an Irish Marist brother, which became Glasgow Celtic FC.Both Rashford and Raheem Sterling have spoken movingly about the grinding childhood poverty that shaped them. Sterling’s experiences were almost Dickensian, for after his father was murdered in Jamaica, his mother brought the family to England to find a better life. This entailed working several jobs simultaneously to make extra money to pay for her degree, and the England midfielder has written that “I’ll never forget waking up at five in the morning before school and helping her clean the toilets at the hotel in Stonebridge. I’d be arguing with my sister, like, “No! No! You got the toilets this time. I got the bed sheets.”But the boys of 1966 were no stranger to hardship: Martin Peters had been evacuated from the East End of London during the Blitz; Ray Wilson had “Egypt never again” tattooed on his arm after an unhappy spell in the army in the 1950s; and Gordon Banks’ brother was mugged and killed when he was a child, and Banks himself built his upper strength through the hard graft of coal-heaving and hod-carrying before he turned professional.It’s noticeable that the geographical spread of English footballing talent is now more evenly spread than it was 55 years ago (eight of the starting 11 in 1966 had been born in the North; compared to six northerners in the 2021 final side), but I’ve been pleased to see that the Great Northern Coalfield is still represented, as it always is in great England teams: in 1966 it was via the Charlton brothers from Northumberland, and in 2021 we have two Jordans from Sunderland, Pickford and Henderson (with the ‘Gateshead Guardiola’, Graeme Jones, pulling the strings on the training ground).Although the class profile of football supporters has changed a lot since the 1960s, the team itself seems as resolutely working-class as it ever was – there was no space in the squad for the genuinely posh Patrick Bamford of Leeds United (of the JCB digger dynasty), a public school footballer in the mould of Frank Lampard – whose A* in Latin GCSE probably made him the most accomplished Latinist to play for England since C. B. Fry.Class still marks out the parameters of English sport in a way that doesn’t pertain in the rest of Europe. (Indeed, appearing in the Italian dugout on Sunday night was Gianluca Vialli, a man who grew up in the Castello di Belgioioso, a 60-room palace outside Cremona.) And this brings us to the England managers of 1966 and 2021. Both Alf Ramsey and Gareth Southgate are the products of new towns in the suburban South East, growing up in the modest suburbia of Dagenham and Crawley respectively. Alf Ramsey was famously up-tight about class signifiers: taking elocution lessons, and digging out a bowler hat for the visit of the Queen to Ipswich Town when he was manager there.Gareth Southgate seems more comfortable in his own skin, and has handled the task of managing England amid an all-consuming culture war with rare adroitness. It’s hard to imagine what Sir Alf would have thought about taking the knee, although Southgate was careful to cite his grandfather “a fierce patriot and a proud military man, who served during World War II” – just like Quartermaster Sergeant Ramsey himself in fact – as the wellspring of his values.As well as their obvious patriotism, both men share a talent for meticulous man-management that have moulded great loyalty and fondness among their players, even if Southgate’s side were unable to win their final. For Ramsey was far from the aloof and detached figure of caricature, in fact, many of his players spoke of the respect and even love they felt for Sir Alf. This generation of England players and fans have found a figurehead who inspires similar esteem and affection – a man who may yet become Sir Gareth, and who all England fans hope will go the final step at next year’s World Cup in Qatar, and bring it home again.
Read Reverend Rutton Viccajee's reflections on the lessons we can learn from the Euro 2020 football finals.Also, the breaking news about a special Messy Church session taking place at Hascombe Village Hall on Wednesday, August 25. Find out how you can sign up to take part in an afternoon of fun.
The Bishop of Bristol, Viv Faull and the Bishop of Ramsbury, Andrew Rumsey, will jointly take over the role - held most recently by the Bishop of Worcester, John Inge.The Archbishop of York, Stephen Cottrell said: “We are delighted that Bishop Viv and Bishop Andrew have accepted this invitation. Their combined experience will be a blessing to those who care for and uphold our places of worship as beacons of faith in our communities, and in their important civic, heritage and educational roles.”“We also wish to take the opportunity to thank Bishop John Inge for all he contributed to this role.”The Church of England has around 16,000 church buildings and 42 cathedrals of which more than 12,500 are listed. The lead bishops support those who care for these buildings by speaking on relevant national issues and engaging in dialogue with Government and partner organisations. Bishop Viv was Dean of York prior to her appointment as Bishop of Bristol. She is a Church Commissioner and a member of the House of Lords. She said: “I am delighted to be given this formal role in leading the Church of England’s thinking and planning as we continue to develop these glorious assets and support the outstanding work of the local communities who pay for them and pray in them. “The experience of the last 18 months includes our buildings being closed, being used to feed and support the most vulnerable in our communities, and becoming more environmentally sustainable as well as monuments and artefacts being noticed and debated.”Bishop Andrew, who is Bishop of Ramsbury in the Diocese of Salisbury, is also an author whose writing centres on themes of local & national identity. His last book, <em>Parish: an Anglican theology of place</em>, is published by SCM press.Commenting on his appointment, he said: “I am honoured to share this new role with the Bishop of Bristol. Our church buildings are a priceless legacy, close to the nation’s soul. I look forward to championing their vital place in public worship and community renewal, and to working with church, government & heritage bodies to assure their future.”
