Steps in Faith

A book, a letter and a photo

In early 1958 I was serving as a soldier in Germany and thinking hard about the Christian faith. One of the books I read was Aldous Huxley’s The Perennial Philosophy. This suggested that the great faiths had in common the idea of losing yourself to find yourself, of giving yourself away. And it struck me that if this is at the heart of reality what could be a more sublime example than the incarnation, when God gives himself to humanity. So it was that through a non-Christian book the central claim of Christianity was reinforced for me.

Also in the regiment was Lance Corporal John Haliburton with his baggy battle dress and waddle walk. But there was little in the regiment than went on without him. He ran the orderly room and being fluent in German was the regimental interpreter.  He organised the chapel, the jazz band, played the organ and ran a bible study group. In between he sneaked into the officer’s mess and in response to my sherry talked theology to me. God rest him. Many books have influenced me, but The Perennial Philosophy affected me in a surprising, unpredictable way and made me see that the incarnation is congruous with our deepest spiritual insights.

In 1972 I was the first and last Warden of Wells in the newly merged Salisbury and Wells Theological College. One day a letter arrived from Robert Stopford, the Bishop of London, asking me if I would be interested in being Vicar of All Saints, the old parish church of Fulham. Three years earlier I had been looking for, and the Bishop had remembered, that this was the kind of parish in which  I wanted to serve.  It was  the only time in my life when  I knew just  what I wanted. I did not want to worship what E. M. Forster termed the great suburban Jehovah and I did not want an eclectic inner city congregation. I wanted a socially mixed congregation in London but not too far out. Nothing was available. Several unsuitable jobs failed to materialise, and then I saw the Wells job advertised and although I had not originally thought I wanted to be on the staff of a theological college, it has turned out to be hugely important to me. The discipline of lecturing on doctrine and ethics laid a foundation for much of what I have done. Not finding what I wanted earlier, and as a result doing something which later  turned out to be so fundamental for my ministry, seems to me now a providential ordering.

When I retired as Bishop of Oxford in 2006 people often used to say to me ‘Do you miss Oxford?’ but I could not think of anything I missed. I began to wonder if I was normal not missing anything. Then some years later I realise I did indeed miss something-being part of the senior staff team with its shared sense of purpose and much humour. We  met every month but once a year we went away for a weekend together at a retreat house where we would worship, plan strategically and share convivial meals. On the Saturday afternoon we went for a long walk in the beautiful Oxfordshire countryside. What I came to miss was never again being part of a small team which combined seriousness and laughter, mutual support and respect for difference. I think for many people it is in a small group that they first discover the reality of Christian community.  I discovered this at Wells Theological College, where we all had to be part of a house group. In Fulham, I encouraged the development of house groups and where once a year we took 30 or so people away for a weekend together. That weekend did more for church life that a whole year of church going. Another important group for me was my episcopal cell which met residentially twice a year. It is through such opportunities for sharing at some depth that we discover what it is to be the church, part of mystical body of all Christ’s faithful people. This photo of our senior staff team on one of our walks is a reminder and symbol of this.  

Richard Harries. His autobiography is The Shaping of a Soul: a life taken by surprise, Christian Alternative Books