Singing the Lord’s song in a strange land

- A review of Jonathan Chaplin and Andrew Bradstock’s book ‘The Future of Brexit Britain: 

Anglican Reflections on National Identity and European Solidarity’ (SPCK, 2020).

In late 1997 I attended a book launch event at Waterstone’s bookshop in Croydon. The launch 

included two historians, Peter Hennesey and Brian Brivati in conversation. Hennesey had just 

published a book on the workings of the British Constitution, Brivati a biography of former Labour 

Party leader Hugh Gaitskell. The question under discussion was whether it is possible to write a true history of the present? I can’t remember what the outcome was, but as I read Chaplin and Bradstock’s book about Brexit and the future of Britain, I am left with the question as to whether 

one can write a theology of the present? In one sense one can, or one can at least seek to understand the present through a theological lens. 

The church calls this process theological reflection, though as has bben pointed out recently, theological reflection first requires the reflector to have some theological literacy and training. (It’s a truism that many theological colleges require their students to reflect theologically, without first providing them with the tools with which to do so.) But theological reflection is not the same as producing a theological response to something. The former responds to the moment, often in a pastoral fashion, the latter seeks to provide a longer term and potentially less pastoral view.

In their book Jonathan Chaplin and Andrew Bradstock provide us with a series of theological 

reflections on the future, in particular how Anglicans might reflect on Brexit and its outcomes. It is an interesting volume peppered with some interesting interlocutors, and some who clearly come to the table with an agenda in mind. As ever Bishop Philip North provides an interesting reflection on Brexit, using his experience as Bishop of Burnley to open up the human side of the debate, a debate which all too quickly became a rock throwing competition between ‘Liberal Urban Elites aka Snowflakes aka Remoaner’ on the one side, and ‘Gammons’ on the other. (I am of course being pejorative, hut the language used, particularly on social media shows how polarised the debate quickly became.)

However, the book doesn’t always remain as erudite but also as readable as +North’s opening essay is. There are some quite technical arguments used, arguments which tend towards the technocratic. (At least one of the essays left me scratching my head, it seeming to be not so much a reflection, as a thinly veiled rant against the EU.) But what is really missing is a proper sense of theological engagement by the essays authors, most of which feel they could have been placed into a secular book on Brexit without the need for much, if any editing. Thus there isn’t much of a sense of theological reflection in the text, despite the presence of a number of top-notch theologians, John Milbank among them.

But what I really missed was a sense of balance in the essays. Almost all of them treated Brexit as a done deal, something irrevocable which must be dealt with one way or the other. There seemed to be no space for lament or expressing loss. As an ardent Remainer I still feel a great sense of loss over the Brexit debate, not just a sense of loss over our no longer being part of the European political project, but also over the politically and socially liberal society we once had. (Too much of the book deals with questions of identity, but there’s hardly any engagement with the political fallout, in particular the resurgence of the Far Right, whose increased confidence has impacted on British political discourse, not least in the nasty and brutish side of Conservative politics, particularly in those chosen for high Cabinet office.)

Lament is an important part of theological reflection, and forms a distinct part of the Psalms, where lament is not a place of loss, but one from which new orientation is found. However, there seems to be no space for lament within these essays, or at least none seem to properly engage with lament, and this I find to be a real weakness in this text. (I am here drawing on the writings of Walter Bruggemann, whose own theological reflection cycle which uses the Psalms as a means of negotiating lament and new orientation has helped my own spiritual and theological development.) 

As a church we need to allow space for lament, and as a national church a place to allow that 40% or so who voted Remain to find their place alongside the Leavers with whom they share the Peace at Mass.

We also need to allow space for other, non-white voices. Anthony Reddie, an academic theologian whose work has been at the forefront of British black theology notes the paucity of non-white voices in the text. Brexit has within it the shadow of English exceptionalism and an implicit xenophobia he argues, there is a danger of racism in Brexit. That this text of 20+ essays includes only two non-white voices, one of which is Reddie's response to the essays, does not help this process of reflection. (Of course Prof Reddie puts it far better than I can, and its worth purchasing for his and +North's essays!)

To go back to my opening question I’m not sure one can write a true history of the present, nor can one produce a theology of the present time. It is not yet that time. What one can do however is to reflect theologically on an issue, and this is what this book has sought to do. However, theological reflection must allow space for lament to be named and heard. To allow the troubled and newly dispossessed to begin to sing a new song to the Lord in what is now a strange land.