Rev

Last week, at a social event, I was quizzed by a young female student about my job. Questions like 'Do you get paid?' 'Is it only on Sundays?' 'Do you do anything apart from services in church?' You can easily forget how little people know about church, from the outside. I was interested (and pleased!) that she was interested!

If you've been watching Rev on BBC2 you might have wondered how true to life it is. The producers have been surprised at its popularity, which is causing it to be franchised in other countries now. What started off as a gentle comedy has taken on a greater depth and realism than was apparent in the first series. The researchers and producers have done a great job. The penultimate episode, shown in Easter week, had streams of tears running down my face. I'm not quite sure why. Maybe it was the way the vicar (Adam Smallbone), having lost his job, walks in imitation of Christ, carrying a cross down a London high street, until on top of a hill he sings and dances to 'Lord of the Dance' until a 'ministering angel' (in the person of Liam Neeson) appears to comfort him. I found the pathos of the whole sequence almost unbearable.

What you realise from these several episodes is the almost impossible nature of the vicar's job, having to combine a number of skills (if you can) which might normally be employed by one person at a time. For example, you have to manage staff, take care of hundreds of thousands of pounds-worth of real estate, deal with some really messed-up people on the margins of society, perform in public several times a week, read and think clearly like a scholar, know the law (civil and ecclesiastical), fund-raise and balance the books, respond to the latest requests from the diocese, sit alongside people at some of the key moments of their lives, often at their most vulnerable, pray and be holy. And all the time being nice to everyone! Of course, you don't do it all yourself, and many of these responsibilities are shared, but the feeling of being ultimately responsible is unavoidable - as Adam is constantly being reminded by the Archdeacon!

It's not getting any easier. Adam's predicament is not unlike that of many actual vicars, particularly in inner-city churches. Most churches are now in decline, so financial and maintenance worries stack up. It's easy to blame yourself. At one of our annual meetings, I was asked what I was doing about our declining numbers; and I have since received a letter from someone in despair, who is convinced their church is dying. I said at the meeting we have to realise that what's happening locally is part of what's happening nationally, so beating ourselves up about it is no help. It's not our fault it's happening - but there is a challenge to be faced. I don't believe that challenge is 'how do we get more people to come to church?' Rather, it is to recover a sense of what the church is actually called to be: in word and action showing the Way of Christ, and inviting others to walk that way with him. As long as we are preoccupied with our own survival, we are doomed. And we are unfaithful to the spirit of Christ, who calls us to lose our lives for his sake and the sake of the Gospel (Mark 8.35)

One of the many positives of the Rev series is the way Adam continues his interior dialogue with God, and his faith remains. Although his church closes and he is in despair, the series ends with a tiny flicker of hope as - on Easter Day - a motley collection of parishioners, down-and-outs and diocesan personnel celebrate the Easter vigil together and Adam baptises his own baby. One senses that the Easter faith remains strong, though church-as-you-know-it passes away.

There is the message, it seems to me. We are to be a (motley?) community of the Resurrection, committed to each other as to God, bearing a message of hope to the needy, to neighbourhood and to nation in ways which reflect an authentic life lived in God.