Meeting: 10th July 2011

On Sunday evening, we invited Garry and Ellen Duguid, authors of "Where are all the Men?", to come and speak to the group. Unfortunately, the RAFA Club was closed, so no beers - sorry gents! We relocated to the church hall, which proved that it's not the best environment for a relaxing meeting.

So, where are all the men? I was disappointed to find that the question wasn't answered convincingly. The thrust of the message seemed to be that men have two paths to follow: one of satanic temptation that leads us away from our wives and families and to certain damnation, or one of salvation. The first path was presented as the path of our weak human history and the second as a path of God's divine intervention, accessible through the person of Jesus. On the face of things, this was generally a traditional demonstration of the options facing fallible humanity.

But there were a number of issues I had with this polarised view. Firstly, this choice of paths is not something to be faced only by men. To live as a Christian is to understand that we all have daily choices that influence where we spend eternity, regardless of our gender.

Secondly, the path of human history and the path of God's intervention are not two separate and incompatible entitities. God made us as physical beings to inhabit time and space and so we work out our salvation within these parameters. We experience our fallen humanity through our own, personal history and through the painful events of world history in the brutality and suffering caused and endured by our fellow beings. We also experience the love of God through our physical interaction with others and with our environment: the abundance of the natural world, the love and forgiveness of others, the inspiration and pleasure of art and culture. It's no coincidence that we receive Jesus each week through the senses of taste and touch in the very tangible manifestation of bread and wine. So, to suggest that our choice for right or wrong involves a separation of the physical and the spiritual is misleading. Our spirituality is moulded by our humanity; our humanity is infused by our spirituality.

Finally, I felt that the message was weakened through a lack of consideration of the audience. Garry and Ellen were talking to a group of men very evidently not absent. Simply by being present we challenged the central tenet of the book and so the message lost much of its impact. Here we were on a Sunday evening not drinking, womanising or committing random acts of violence - and, what was more, quite happy to balance our humanity with our spirituality. In this respect, our attitudes as men were, and are, way ahead of those considered in the book. Any committed Christian man or woman reading the book will find very little that they don't already know from the wider world, or will have considered for themselves in the way they choose to live their lives.

To be fair, the authors have tried to tackle an issue that has huge ramifications on today's society. However, their message is a little heavy on doom and rather light on optimistic and practical solutions. It is also not clear whether their book is for Christians who haven't understood the extent of the problem in the secular world, or whether it is for non-Christians who are looking for a Christian solution. Either way, I can't see it really satisfying the needs of any of these groups.

Why a church group for men?

There are two things that have become increasingly difficult to express in this day and age: a valid sense and meaning of masculinity and a belief in God and Jesus Christ.  It’s hard to strike a balance between the views of men as either posturing, macho alpha males or the androgynous new men, overly in touch with their feminine sides. Throw religion into the mix and you start to ask some tough questions: “How can I live out my faith as a man and still feel that I retain my integrity in the face of the world?”

So why a group for men? The idea arose entirely from looking around the church at Mass on Sundays and seeing you – men. I know for myself why I go to Mass on a Sunday morning, but looking around I thought “Why are all these other men here? Do they come for the same reason as me? Do they also want to know God and consciously live out their faith?” It struck me as absurd that, if this were a football match, we’d be coming up to each other afterwards going, “Great game, wasn’t it! Did you see that goal?! What was the ref thinking?” Yet in church we barely give each other the time of day. Not that I’m suggesting we stand around after Mass going, “Great Mass! Did you hear that homily?! What was the priest thinking?” But we are social beings, and it seems strange that we all come to Mass as part of the family of God and yet cannot find the wherewithal to share that with one another.

But that’s where it’s hard for men. We don’t naturally reveal things that seem to make us vulnerable. A few of us have already been meeting as a group and it’s evident that expressing how we feel about faith doesn’t come easy. We’ve not been used to it as we’ve grown up; we have our doubts about things; we’re not clear on exactly what the Church teaches or why. But what we have appreciated is a quiet, private environment where we feel comfortable enough in each other’s company to open up about things that are important to us.

We meet on the second Sunday of each month at the Bedford RAF Association Club opposite the railway station. We book it out exclusively for ourselves. There is a bar. We spend some time catching up with one another, building up our friendships (which is important for a sense of trust when it comes to talking about deeper things). Then we have some specific input about the faith, which gives us some stimulation for discussion. Feel free to join us, and keep an eye out on this blog for what is coming up over the next few months.