An Apology for a Parish Church

The word "Apology" has changed meaning. In ye olde days it simply meant "a defence", or "an argument supporting". Below are my last sermons on 4 January 2026, thanking St Margaret's for their confidence in my ministry and partnership in the Gospel and praying for their future flourishing.

I would like to begin by sharing the vicarage's favourite joke:

There are three cows in a field: pardon, pardon-pardon and pardon-pardon-pardon. Pardon-pardon and pardon-pardon-pardon leave the field. Who is left?

[Pardon!]

There are three cows in a field…

This is the state of the Church of England. Firstly, it’s involving people who are misunderstanding each other – sometimes deliberately. Secondly, it involves people saying sorry a lot, but not always meaning it. Sorry/not-sorry. Thirdly, it’s a joke that has the potential to go round and round for ever. And it takes a long time to change anything in the Church of England. Fourthly, it’s missing the point. That being – two thirds of the cows have already left. The attendance of the herd is dropping and no one has so much as filled out a safeguarding report.

But I don’t want to talk about the Church of England. I want to talk about what it means to be a parish church in the Church of England, and that’s quite different.

The Church of England is blessed with great variety. We’re a broad church here at St Margaret’s and that’s a good thing. Although Mr Christopher Oldham is very quick on any suggestion of incense in church. I lit incense once, quite harmlessly, in a children’s talk and I could see him out of the corner of my eye reaching for the fire extinguisher. But it strikes me that there are two things that really matter to all churches, and they are quite simple and not at first sight very religious. They are CONFIDENCE. And SERVICE.

Let’s start with confidence. In 2001 I was in Sydney at a Church called Hillsong which had a great band with professional levels of production. I was struck that in the service they had three collections, in the last of which they “challenged” the congregation to empty their wallets. This was in my 2020 Mission Action Plan, but sadly Covid killed cash. If people emptied their wallets it would just be vouchers for The Telegraph and double points at Tesco. The other thing that stayed with me, along with my cash (which I’d moved to a different pocket), was the opening line of the preacher, a very smartly besuited man, who quoted Mark Twain: ‘A man with no clothes has no influence.’ It’s a funny line to start with. To me it felt like he was justifying the discomfort of coupling being a sharp dressed man and the constant requests for money. I also thought it kind of demeaned his congregation – suggesting that they only respond to the trappings of success – but also his preaching, his influence coming not from his message or the Spirit, but from money and some nice threads.

I could try it. Tonight Brutus is wearing some lovely silk from Watts, a company featured over Christmas in the Financial Times. If you’re looking for something sparkly that’ll make you stand out in a crowd…. Oh, and, whatever you were gonna put in the collection – Double it. And add a zero. We takes cards – just, uh, touch the screen at the back. [And they said tele-evangelism is dead.]

This isn’t confidence. But it does by contrast throw a light on the lack of confidence in British churches today, Religion is on the list of banned British subjects. You will kindly restrict your conversation to the state of the roads and the weather. I’m really letting myself go in this last sermon – That’s a line in Sense and Sensibility, the film, that’s not actually in the book, but it was written by Emma Thompson and delivered by Kate Winslett, so we’re still in national treasure territory.

But we don’t have confidence speaking about our faith, or even telling people we go to church. I heard some good new year’s resolutions recently and I liked resoluting not to apologise for your job, You know when you say “I’m an accountant but…” or “I’m a lawyer, but…” I’m a vicar, but I’m not a regular vicar.: I’m a cool vicar.” [Just think, when I’m gone you’ll no longer have to put up with quotes from Mean Girls and Taylor Swift.]

But we don’t need to apologise. It’s so British. Let’s get rid of pardon pardon pardon. And let’s not apologise about being Christian, or St Margaret’s. I’m proud of our community – I hope you are. We should invite people to come here because it’s fun; Because we recognise that there’s something important going on. something that makes a difference. Something that makes life fuller, more meaningful, that gives purpose and hope; That has the power to change us.

So really, when you get down to it, confidence is about faith. Faith that God is in this place. and that people need to know they are loved and have a great community at their fingertips. That is confidence. And it’s faith.

But churches also have to have faith in what they’re about. At the end of my first year here we opened a Glass Door shelter for people affected by homelessness. There were people who thought it was a bad idea. We wouldn’t have enough volunteers. It wasn’t fair on the nursery. It would bring trouble into the area. But it was a great success. We made a real difference and Glass Door and our guests reported how much they liked it here and how well they were treated. The volunteers came from St Margaret’s but also St Simon’s and wider, forming connections and friendships which persist to this day. Lucy was happy and were it not for the pandemic we would still be hosting today.

During the pandemic every church was turned upside down. But you could either hole-up and sunbathe or realise that society needed a different sort of church in that moment. In two weeks we’d raised £10,000 and had a volunteer team of over 100. The work of St Margaret’s at that time had a lasting impact in serving our community, building relationships and our reputation, not least in our soup and cake run going to 80 houses, at a time when the cost of isolation was deeply felt. That has become our lunch on the lane, entirely volunteer run bringing together people of all ages in our community. It’s really easy to not bother. The Church needs Spirit. Perhaps the most outrageous development was to start a concert series in a pandemic. The first concerts were held without an audience, and in 2020 and 2021 all kinds of rules came and went. At one point, as with our services, we couldn’t have singing, so resorted to string players. One concert was held outside. For a long time everyone wore masks – which seems incredible now. But even when there was no audience and concerts were just streamed, people still gave and watched at home, and for self-employed musicians with no prospects it made a difference.

And that’s the working of the Spirit. That if you set out with courage, hard-work, and a plan, people will respond. Recently in just 2 months we raised seven thousand pounds for our sister church. Churches need to believe in themselves because the change the world needs starts in places like this. The Spirit is infectious.

We’ve tried many things in the last seven years. Not all of them have worked – at least as we’d planned. Some are for a short season, some endure and have become part of the fabric, some have been one off spectaculars – Whether it’s climate cafes, Balls, grief groups, music festivals, Christmas parcels, Christmas trees, a marriage course, Bible studies and lectures, any of the many spiritual, social and charitable endeavours begun by people across our community. If a church has the confidence, if it has the faith, then it will find the Spirit. But, as George Michael said, you gotta have faith.

Service is in my opinion the distinctive centre of the Church of England. Archbishop William Temple described the church as, “the only institution that exists for the benefit of people who are not yet members.” Outside the CoE most churches are about the membership. It’s the gift of Anglicanism that it sees its churches as being for the parish, the general public, not just the congregation. This will often come as a surprise to them. But it’s that surprising place where service becomes mission and transformation.

I said earlier how when the pandemic broke we had a team of over 100 volunteers. 90 percent were not church-goers but they knew that we were there to help this parish, their neighbourhood. At one point a young women took soup and cake to Anne East, our licensed lay minister, proudly declaring “I’m from the church.” Anne didn’t recognise her, and she may never have been to a service. But isn’t the point of the parable of the Good Samaritan that it’s often the unexpected person who’s doing the ministry? Just as today it is the immigrants from East who find the Baby Jesus.

A lot of people think they can tell the size of a church by the electoral roll or the average Sunday attendance. It matters, but the interesting place, a point at which people are changing, a place where the kingdom of God is most evident is the area around that. The place where the congregation and community meet is a place of encounter. And that is all about service. It’s about the church serving the community. It’s also about the church being a place where people can serve the community. It is also the church being the place where the community is found. And the Christian word for community is the Body of Christ. And the Christian word for serve is love.

Epiphany is about the extension of God’s people – a light to lighten the Gentiles, as we’ll hear at Candlemas. The Church is only the Church if it’s serving the world, which is why it must be open, inclusive and welcoming – it must serve Putney if it is to reveal the light of the world.

So as the former things pass away and all things are made new, I trust that you will remain confident in service: ‘steadfast in faith and active in service’ as the Collect puts it: Knowing that if we have faith and love then we will not lose hope; Or at least that two out of three ain’t bad. And on the subject of hope, we had good news this week in reaching our goal of achieving an eco church silver award, a testament to the work and improvements made to our buildings, our garden and in our worship and community. But, moreover, the vicarage family has clubbed together and bought the parish an apple tree. We were all very moved by Anne’s sermon in which she described hope as knowing that the world is ending tomorrow, but going out and planting an apple tree. Well brothers and sisters, that day has come. Or it has at least come for us here, but I hope the tree is an enduring symbol of hope for the parish and of our time here.

So as we leave, please keep this herd together, serving with confidence. Stop apologising. Thank you for giving me your confidence over the last seven years, And continue to be the Epiphany that Putney needs. Amen.

EPILOGUE (given at Evensong):

There are many things I have still to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. So used to say the Bishop of London to his clergy quite frequently, quoting St John quoting Jesus. But now, at this time, I feel I understand more their original context. How at the last there is so much to say, but it becomes increasingly difficult to say anything. How there is everyone to thank but it is impossible to thank anyone in the way that you would like. How there are so many memories and people you would like to bring to mind, but there is not time or the words to justify it. So now, on the cusp of leaving, there are things I wish I had done, wish I had said, wish to be remembered, but the truth is that it is all done – for better and for worse. Helen last night remarked that you could see the toll of the last seven years. It might be the children, it might be the pandemic, it might be the church, but our lives are written on our bodies and I feel the physical toll of these years – In pushing and pulling pews, in wrestling children in the work of leading a church through 7 years – which have been at times hard, and at times years of plenty.

And so, finding all alternatives too difficult, and with an eye to the future, I thought it made sense to finish with a SWOT analysis of St Margaret’s. For the uninitiated SWOTs identify Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities and Threats. Probably passe, or at least retro, but it gives us a place to begin.

So strengths.

St Margaret’s is friendly. When there are reports done on what makes churches work, the welcome is always the first thing that’s talked about. St Margaret’s has always been friendly, it’s in its DNA.

Midweek services. We often think of churches in terms of Sunday but the centre of community is often found in those who meet in the week for Bible study and Communion. This is really strong in St Margaret’s and those people are the jewels of the parish.

The commitment of people here is admirable. It’s often felt that Churches Together in Putney and Roehampton is basically an off-shoot of St Margaret’s and we’re always the best represented church at Deanery. Our PCC meetings are usually fully attended – When people here say they’re going to do something they do it.

We are now a well-resourced church. I was chatting to the vicar of All Saints Kingston and we’re in a better position than them – and they’ve crowned kings! Resources matter – it’s how this church will stay independent and have its own vicar for the foreseeable future.

And you look after your vicar. Especially Andrew, who brings me coffee between services every week but also in so many other ways leads the parish in its care for the people who work here. And also the Stewards who are good at seeing when we’re struggling.

Weaknesses.

Well you’ve lost your vicar.Which is careless. But you do have a curate who is ready to take on her own parish but is stuck here a little longer. Sarah is great – she’s kind, she works hard, she wants to try new things, and we’re lucky to have her here at this time. And there’s just better support all round now – with two readers, a full time administrator, Sarah Witney and a family of vergers. We have boots on the ground.

Then there’s the Church of England, which as someone seems to say in the news most weeks is in the worst state it’s ever been. I think the best thing at present is just to ignore it. The Church of England is essentially parish churches like us who are for the most part doing a good job in difficult times.

Final weakness is that we’re still on gas. On the other hand the church we’re going to is on gas only it’s not been working for a month which must have made it a very bleak midwinter Christmas.

Opportunities

Well it’s a moment of change.New vergers, new director of music, new vicar. There’s a parish profile to write – learning about who you are as a community and having a say in how you see the future of this community. My only suggestion is to think big. When I arrived I was interviewed by 3 members of the parish and the archdeacon. The next vicar will be faced with the Archdeacon, the Bishop and the Area Dean, as well as the parish reps. But as a parish you want to be clear about what sort of person you want coming here next.

Finally Threats.

Change always means people will leave. The new vicar may be too catholic, too liberal, too low, too high, too young, have annoying children. One of the things I’m most proud of is that even though some people talked about leaving when I first arrived, they by and large stayed. A parish church has to hold everyone together – it makes its spirituality richer.

The roof is always a threat and at some point it will need replacing, but we have weathered the moment of financial peril and with good stewardship, we will have time to prepare. We also have in Jonathan Crane the best churchwarden who’s not a churchwarden in the diocese. And a great team of churchwardens and ex-churchwardens to rely on.

The biggest problem and a new problem churches are going to face across the country is the rise of nationalism and their adoption of Christianity as a front for attacking other religions and ethnicities. I was disappointed to be at an evangelical church in the city at Christmas that held a Reform party carol service, and to be clear I would not be comfortable holding services for any political parties. But it’s the Tommy Robinson shoe horning Christ into racism that is most troubling. What started as a quiet revival may become for the church a hostile takeover. I trust that St Margaret’s will remain a place of social justice, and will fight for the soul of the Church of England by being an inclusive parish church for all.

But enough of the future. Thank you for our partnership in the Gospel, which has grown these seven years like a budding partnership between Joe Root and Harry Brook. Thank you for being the wonderful warm community into which my children have been born and baptized. Thank you for supporting Rhiannon and I through hard times and good times. We leave you in faith, hope and love, trusting God for your future. I will diminish and go into the West and remain Brutus. But I have been, and shall always be, your friend. Amen.