“The people at the end of the bar think you are the strippergram,” the barmaid informed me as she came round collecting glasses. Apparently the last ‘vicar’ they had seen in the pub was a black man in a dog collar who took all his clothes off. One of the best things I have found since being ordained is being able to wear clerical clothes, because it means I can wear black all the time, (the colour which best conceals the middle-aged spread), and because it is a visible way of declaring that the church is very much alive and that it is perfectly acceptable for anyone to talk to me about God. I rejoice that the Anglo-Catholic wing of the Church of England, to which I belong, has not dropped the clerical uniform; I think priests should always be clearly recognizable when on duty.

I subsequently had a very interesting discussion with the people at the end of the bar about the existence of God, and some of the more problematical areas of faith. The English have a curious attitude that religion is a strictly private matter. I do not understand why religion should be regarded as off-limits when people are at their most relaxed. I find that my most interesting theological discussions about God often take place after nine o’clock at wedding receptions, after the guests have had a sherbet or two, and they feel a little less inhibited about a subject which they find interesting but seldom discuss. Some churches fix a time for chewing the religious fat over a pint in the local. I’ve heard of ‘Pints of View’ over near King’s Lynn, and ‘Beer ‘n’ Banter’ in South London. I suspect that Jesus also had some of his most interesting conversations about God over a cup of wine.

The pharisees of his day complained about him and his disciples feasting and drinking, and they deeply disapproved of the company he kept. He brushed off their criticisms. Jesus went to where the people were and talked to them about God in ways they could relate to. So if you see me down the pub know that I am happy to talk about the Christian faith, but rest assured that despite the need for fundraising, I will not be taking my clothes off, even if people might well pay double for me to put them back on again.  “The people at the end of the bar think you are the strippergram,” the barmaid informed me as she came round collecting glasses. Apparently the last ‘vicar’ they had seen in the pub was a black man in a dog collar who took all his clothes off. One of the best things I have found since being ordained is being able to wear clerical clothes, because it means I can wear black all the time, (the colour which best conceals the middle-aged spread), and because it is a visible way of declaring that the church is very much alive and that it is perfectly acceptable for anyone to talk to me about God. I rejoice that the Anglo-Catholic wing of the Church of England, to which I belong, has not dropped the clerical uniform; I think priests should always be clearly recognizable when on duty.

I subsequently had a very interesting discussion with the people at the end of the bar about the existence of God, and some of the more problematical areas of faith. The English have a curious attitude that religion is a strictly private matter. I do not understand why religion should be regarded as off-limits when people are at their most relaxed. I find that my most interesting theological discussions about God often take place after nine o’clock at wedding receptions, after the guests have had a sherbet or two, and they feel a little less inhibited about a subject which they find interesting but seldom discuss. Some churches fix a time for chewing the religious fat over a pint in the local. I’ve heard of ‘Pints of View’ over near King’s Lynn, and ‘Beer ‘n’ Banter’ in South London. I suspect that Jesus also had some of his most interesting conversations about God over a cup of wine.

The pharisees of his day complained about him and his disciples feasting and drinking, and they deeply disapproved of the company he kept. He brushed off their criticisms. Jesus went to where the people were and talked to them about God in ways they could relate to. So if you see me down the pub know that I am happy to talk about the Christian faith, but rest assured that despite the need for fundraising, I will not be taking my clothes off, even if people might well pay double for me to put them back on again.