The Illusion of Liberation: Ethical Non-Monogamy and the Tragedy of the Human Heart

Behind the mask of fleeting pleasure lies emptiness; only in the embrace of God as Father does the human heart find security and joy.

Lifestyle journalism increasingly celebrates what it calls “ethical non-monogamy.” Readers are invited into the worlds of open marriages, threesomes, swinging, and even boasts of encounters with hundreds of partners. Such practices are presented as adventurous, authentic, and even virtuous when cloaked with the language of “consent” and “honesty.”¹

Yet the sadness beneath these glossy confessions is unmistakable. The very need to insist upon “ethics” reveals the unease of those trying to sanctify what conscience knows to be disordered.² The endless “rules” of aftercare, negotiation, and constant reassurance betray not freedom but fragility. In place of security there is anxiety: fear of being replaced, fear of being less desired, fear of being left outside the circle of intimacy.³

The Fathers of the Church understood this restlessness well. St Augustine admitted in his Confessions: *“Our heart is restless until it rests in Thee.”*⁴ St John Chrysostom warned against marriage reduced to passion alone, for it debases the dignity of both spouses.⁵ And Pope Pius XI, in Casti Connubii, taught that the true purpose of matrimony is the union and mutual perfection of husband and wife, a purpose impossible in transient liaisons.⁶

Modern psychology, too, bears witness to the wounds concealed beneath the rhetoric of liberation. Studies of “consensual non-monogamy” often report higher levels of jealousy and lower relationship satisfaction compared with faithful marriages.⁷ Relationship counsellors frequently note the unequal burdens carried by so-called “unicorns” (single women invited into couples’ encounters), who often feel objectified or disposable.⁸ Clinical psychologists have highlighted the correlation between compulsive sexual novelty-seeking and underlying issues of anxiety, attachment insecurity, or trauma.⁹ What is proclaimed as exploration is often, in reality, an attempt to numb wounds or to chase validation through endless repetition.

Even those who champion these lifestyles sometimes confess the emptiness. Many speak of the need for “aftercare,” long debriefs, or even counselling following encounters. This very vocabulary suggests not fulfilment, but recovery from an ordeal. The human heart craves intimacy, not performances; belonging, not variety. The psychologist Viktor Frankl observed that man cannot be satisfied by pleasure alone, but only by meaning and purpose.¹⁰ Where the search for meaning is absent, pleasure becomes compulsive and hollow.

The tragedy is not only personal but social. Children raised in homes where relationships shift and partners come and go may adapt outwardly, but often carry deep insecurity within. Developmental psychologists consistently observe that children thrive best in environments marked by stability and predictability.¹¹ Attachment theory, pioneered by John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth, demonstrates that secure bonds are formed when children experience consistent love and reliability.¹² When the family unit becomes fluid, with parental figures changing or introducing new partners, children may internalise the message that love is provisional and conditional.¹³

Clinical counsellors report that such children are more prone to anxiety, behavioural difficulties, and trust issues later in life, often struggling to form lasting relationships of their own.¹⁴ Adults may normalize instability as “flexibility,” yet for children, each new partner can feel like a quiet displacement, reinforcing the fear of not being truly chosen or secure.¹⁵ What society lauds as open-minded honesty, children often experience as uncertainty and confusion—an erosion of the very foundation upon which their identity and confidence are built. A culture that applauds such patterns undermines the bedrock of stability that allows not only trust and love to flourish, but also the healthy psychological development of the next generation.¹⁶

For Christians, the deepest tragedy lies in the distortion of what God created as holy. Man and woman, made in His image, are called to become His children.¹⁷ Sexual intimacy, ordered rightly, is meant to be a sign of God’s own fidelity—faithful, fruitful, exclusive, and life-giving. To scatter that sign in novelty and experimentation is to abuse the image of God within us. It is not freedom, but a travesty of love.

The Church does not gaze upon these lives with contempt but with compassion. She recognises the deep yearning that lies behind such stories: the hunger to be loved, to be seen, to be secure. These are not wrong desires, but misplaced ones. True liberation is not found in multiplying encounters, but in discovering the One in whom love is perfected. Christ offers what no encounter, no thrill, no experiment can ever grant: the adoption as sons and daughters of God, heirs to joy everlasting.¹⁸

To pity rather than condemn is to recognise the sadness behind the spectacle, the insecurity behind the bravado, the brokenness behind the smile. Only in God can the heart be healed, intimacy be secured, and love be made whole.

  1. Alice Garnett, “How threesomes and swinging went mainstream (and the rules to follow),” Telegraph, 3 Dec 2024; Carla Crivaro, “I’ve slept with nine men and one woman since my marriage break-up,” Telegraph, 8 Sept 2025.
  2. St Paul, Romans 2:15: “They show that what the law requires is written on their hearts.”
  3. Moors, A. C., & Schechinger, H. A., “Consentual Non-Monogamy: Attitudes, Desire, and Practice,” Current Opinion in Psychology 35 (2020): 76–80.
  4. Augustine, Confessions, I.1.
  5. John Chrysostom, Homilies on Colossians XII.
  6. Pius XI, Casti Connubii (1930), §23.
  7. Conley, T. D., et al., “The Fewer the Merrier? Assessing Stigma Surrounding Consensually Non-monogamous Romantic Relationships,” Analyses of Social Issues and Public Policy 13, no. 1 (2013): 1–30.
  8. Weitzman, G., “Therapy with Clients in Open Relationships,” Journal of Bisexuality 6, no. 1–2 (2006): 137–164.
  9. Grubbs, J. B., et al., “Self-reported compulsive sexual behavior: A meta-analysis of prevalence and correlates,” Journal of Behavioral Addictions 9, no. 3 (2020): 701–716.
  10. Viktor Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning (Boston: Beacon Press, 2006), 115–118.
  11. Amato, P. R., “The impact of family formation change on the cognitive, social, and emotional well-being of the next generation,” Future of Children 15, no. 2 (2005): 75–96.
  12. John Bowlby, Attachment and Loss: Vol. 1. Attachment (New York: Basic Books, 1969); Mary Ainsworth, Patterns of Attachment (Hillsdale, NJ: Erlbaum, 1978).
  13. Osborne, C., & McLanahan, S., “Partnership instability and child well-being,” Journal of Marriage and Family 69, no. 4 (2007): 1065–1083.
  14. Cummings, E. M., & Davies, P. T., Children and Marital Conflict: The Impact of Family Dispute and Resolution (New York: Guilford Press, 2010).
  15. Hetherington, E. M., & Kelly, J., For Better or For Worse: Divorce Reconsidered (New York: Norton, 2002).
  16. Amato, P. R., “Research on divorce: Continuing trends and new developments,” Journal of Marriage and Family 72, no. 3 (2010): 650–666.
  17. Genesis 1:27; 1 John 3:1.
  18. Galatians 4:7; Romans 8:15–17.


The Priest’s Prayers at the Ablution of the Chalice: A School of Reverence, a School of the Soul

The manner in which the priest purifies the chalice after Holy Communion in the traditional Roman Rite is no trifling detail, but a school of reverence and a daily examen of conscience. In the older form, the ablutions are solemn, careful, and doubled: the chalice is first washed with wine alone; then the thumb and forefinger that touched the Body of Christ are purified with wine and water. These actions are not performed in silence or haste but are accompanied by profound prayers, whispered by the celebrant as he consumes the ablutions.

In the modern rite, by contrast, the ablutions have been reduced to the level of functional housekeeping. The prayers are gone. The gestures are abbreviated, often postponed until after Mass, sometimes delegated to a deacon or acolyte. The priest may rinse a chalice as he chats with servers, as though dealing with ordinary tableware. And yet, at this very moment, he has just touched the Holy of Holies. What once was a moment of trembling compunction has been stripped of its meaning. The chalice is clean, but the soul of the celebrant may remain untouched. This is no minor alteration: it is emblematic of the desacralisation of the priesthood itself.

The First Ablution: A Dialogue with God
After Communion, the priest pours wine into the chalice and consumes it, praying: Quod ore sumpsimus, Domine, pura mente capiamus: et de munere temporali fiat nobis remedium sempiternum — “Grant, O Lord, that what we have taken with our mouth we may receive with a pure mind, and that from a temporal gift it may become for us an eternal remedy.”¹

This prayer is brief, but it pierces the conscience. The priest acknowledges that the Sacrament he has dared to consume is no mere food but a remedy against eternal death. He has touched Christ; he must beg that this not turn to his condemnation, but to his healing. Adrian Crogan, in his Liturgical Commentary on the Mass, explains that these hidden prayers of the priest are “an intimate dialogue with God, hidden from the congregation, which safeguards the reality of the Presence in every particle and deepens the priest’s own assimilation of the mystery.”² Even in purifying the chalice, the priest is being purified.

The Second Ablution: A Fire that Clings
The rite continues. The priest purifies the thumb and forefinger with wine and then water, saying: Corpus tuum, Domine, quod sumpsi, et Sanguis quem potavi, adhaereat visceribus meis: et praesta; ut in me non remaneat scelerum macula, quem pura et sancta refecerunt sacramenta — “May Thy Body, O Lord, which I have received, and Thy Blood which I have drunk, cleave to my inmost being; and grant that no stain of sin may remain in me, whom these pure and holy Sacraments have refreshed.”³

The prayer does not deny the cleansing power of the Sacrament, for by Holy Communion the priest has been touched and sanctified in both soul and body. In an incarnational sense, he has been made whole: the divine Food heals, elevates, and divinises. And yet, the priest acknowledges that the mystery of sin is not simply a matter of external acts, but of internal dispositions. Sin lurks most insidiously in the heart — in the tangled motivations of pride, vainglory, or negligence. He has received Christ, yes; but has he received Him with singleness of purpose? Has he offered the Sacrifice for the glory of God, or with self in view?

Peter Chaignon, SJ, in his The Sacrifice of the Mass Worthily Celebrated, warned that “every rite, every prayer is given to you that you may sanctify yourself even as you handle the Holy.”⁴ The ablutions are thus a merciful trap: the priest cannot pass them without being forced to ask whether his motives are pure.

Doctrine Confirmed by Miracle
The De defectibus in the Missal insists that every fragment, however small, must be treated with utmost care, for Christ whole and entire is present in every particle of the Host.⁵ The Eucharistic Miracle of Lanciano confirmed this doctrine. In the eighth century, the consecrated wine coagulated into five globules of blood, unequal in size yet equal in weight whether weighed singly or together.⁶ Later forensic study confirmed the Flesh as myocardium and the Blood as human type AB, remarkably preserved across twelve centuries.⁷ Laurence Hemming has argued that Catholic worship is “tangible theology, a live epiphany of God’s self-disclosure.”⁸ The miracle of Lanciano was precisely such an epiphany. The ablution prayers are another: outward acts that disclose divine truth.

The Fathers: Medicine, Fire, Transformation
The Fathers proclaimed the same truths. St Ignatius of Antioch called the Eucharist “the medicine of immortality.”⁹ St Augustine declared that unlike ordinary food, which the body assimilates, in the Eucharist it is we who are assimilated to God.¹⁰ St John Chrysostom urged that those who receive the Body of Christ should go forth “like lions breathing fire.”¹¹ The ablution prayers, whispered at the altar, echo these patristic themes. The priest begs that the medicine truly heal, that the fire truly burn, that the transformation be real.

For the Modern Celebrant: A Severe Admonition
The absence of these prayers in the reformed liturgy has had grave consequences. The chalice is rinsed, but the conscience is unexamined. The vessels are set aside, but the heart may remain unpurified. No prayer compels the modern celebrant to ask whether he has celebrated for the glory of God alone, or with pride, routine, or self-interest.

The Fathers would not have been silent. Chrysostom warned: “If anyone unworthily draw near, he perishes.”¹² Ambrose declared that the impure celebrant “draws down not grace but judgment upon himself.”¹³ Durandus explained that the washing of fingers signified the need for purity of intention.¹⁴ Aquinas taught that although the sacrament itself cannot be corrupted by the minister’s unworthiness, it may bring his condemnation.¹⁵ The Council of Trent confirmed this with anathema: “If anyone says that it is not necessary for one receiving the holy Eucharist to confess his sins beforehand when he is conscious of mortal sin… let him be anathema.”¹⁶

Here, then, is the tragedy: priests today who treat the Host as though it were a wafer, who neglect to genuflect, who chat idly while purifying vessels, who tolerate sacrilege in Communion lines. The chalice may be polished, but their motives remain tarnished. The outward act may be tidy, but the inward reality is neglected.

If the modern celebrant would recover reverence, he must recover these prayers — not as antiquarian curiosities, but as the medicine of his soul. For it is not the rinsing of chalices that saves, but the cleansing of the heart; not the outward order of vessels, but the inward ordering of love. Without them, the priest risks standing at the altar with vessels purified but heart defiled, lips sanctified but motives corrupt. And what then has he gained? Only this: to have touched the Fire of God, and to have let it pass him by unheeded.


Footnotes

  1. Missale Romanum (1962), Orationes post Communionem.
  2. Adrian Crogan, The Mass: A Liturgical Commentary (London, 1948), p. 219.
  3. Missale Romanum (1962), ibid.
  4. Peter Chaignon, SJ, The Sacrifice of the Mass Worthily Celebrated (Paris, 1859), p. 143.
  5. De defectibus in celebratione Missae, X.5.
  6. Inscription, Church of St Francis, Lanciano, 1574 investigation.
  7. Odoardo Linoli, Quaderni Sclavo di Diagnostica Clinica e di Laboratori (1971).
  8. Laurence Hemming, Worship as Revelation (London: T&T Clark, 2008), p. 67.
  9. St Ignatius of Antioch, Epistula ad Ephesios 20.
  10. St Augustine, Confessiones VII.10.
  11. St John Chrysostom, Homiliae in Matthaeum 82.5.
  12. Ibid.
  13. St Ambrose, De Sacramentis IV.4.
  14. William Durandus, Rationale Divinorum Officiorum IV.54.
  15. St Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae III, q. 82, a. 5.
  16. Council of Trent, Session XIII, Canon 11 (Denzinger 1661).


Flags and Ironies: National Identity, Ideological Symbols, and the Battle for Public Space

The United Kingdom today finds itself in a paradoxical struggle over symbols. The Pride Progress flag, widely promoted as an emblem of inclusivity, has been adopted by councils, schools, and even police forces, while the Cross of St George and the Union Flag—historic banners of national unity—are increasingly treated with suspicion. The irony is stark: national flags are the rightful and legally protected emblems of shared belonging, yet they are sidelined, while a partisan movement flag is raised in their place.

Civic Neutrality and the Law

In Smith v Chief Constable of Northumbria Police [2025] EWHC 1805 (Admin), the High Court ruled that Northumbria Police acted unlawfully by marching in uniform at Newcastle Pride 2024 while displaying the Progress Pride flag. The judgment concluded that this was not a neutral act of civic engagement but a partisan endorsement of a politically contested ideology.¹ The ruling is a landmark: it confirms that public authorities must maintain impartiality and refrain from appearing to endorse controversial causes, echoing the long-standing prohibitions of the Local Government Act 1986.

A Movement to Reclaim the Flags

Amid this debate, the grassroots campaign Operation Raise the Colours has sought to normalise the everyday display of the Cross of St George and the Union Flag from homes, businesses, and civic spaces. Its aim is straightforward: to restore the ordinary, unifying presence of national flags in daily life, free from the unfair stigma of extremism or xenophobia with which they have been associated. It is, at heart, about reclaiming our flags. Yet it is a sad commentary on our times that cynicism and bigotry so often obscure this purpose. Critics denounce the campaign as divisive, even while unthinkingly cheering the same national colours at sporting events.²

Controversies Over the Pride Flag

By contrast, public enthusiasm for the Pride Progress flag has embroiled councils and institutions in bitter disputes:

  • In Matlock, Derbyshire, a Pride flag was removed after Christian complaints, only to be reinstalled by order of the town council.³
  • Warwickshire County Council witnessed internal conflict when its Reform UK leadership ordered Pride flags down, but the chief executive insisted such decisions were administrative, not political.⁴
  • The county’s planning authority went further, noting that the Pride Progress flag requires advertising consent to be lawfully displayed, unlike national flags.⁵
  • In Camden, a judicial review challenge has been launched against a transgender-coloured road crossing, with the claimant arguing that local authorities must not promote partisan causes under the 1986 Act.⁶

These incidents underscore the ideological preference given to movement banners over the neutral emblems of civic identity.

The Double Standard

Government guidance makes plain that national flags—including the Union Flag and St George’s Cross—are legally privileged: they do not require planning consent and enjoy protected status.⁷ Yet national banners are often criticised as “provocative” or “exclusionary.” A Reuters report on Operation Raise the Colours suggested that widespread flag-flying might embolden far-right groups, casting suspicion on what was once the ordinary language of civic unity.⁸

This double standard reveals a deeper malaise in public life. National flags have historically served as rallying points in times of joy and grief alike, whether at coronations, jubilees, or memorials. They speak not of one party, ideology, or faction, but of a people bound together in a shared story. To stigmatise them while championing movement flags is to turn reality on its head: it is to call “inclusive” what is divisive, and to call “divisive” what is unifying. The result is cultural disorientation, where loyalty to nation and heritage is mistrusted, while allegiance to fluid and transient causes is celebrated.

The irony becomes sharper when one recalls that even the Pride Progress flag itself is not stable but constantly altered to reflect the ever-shifting politics of identity. By contrast, the Cross of St George and the Union Flag remain fixed symbols, transcending ephemeral trends. The selective suspicion directed against them, then, is not about design or visibility but about the deeper rejection of national identity in favour of ideology.

Conclusion: The Banner of the Cross

The High Court has reminded public institutions that neutrality is a constitutional duty. Yet neutrality is persistently undermined by the preferential treatment of ideological symbols over national ones. The task of Operation Raise the Colours is, therefore, not merely aesthetic but civic and cultural: to reclaim the ordinary right of citizens to take pride in their flags without fear of stigma.

This is not only about patriotism but about principle. If public space is surrendered to partisan banners, the state itself becomes captive to ideology. National flags stand for all citizens equally—believer and unbeliever, traditionalist and progressive, immigrant and native-born. The Progress flag, by contrast, stands only for those willing to assent to a contested worldview. To elevate it above the Union Flag or the Cross of St George is not inclusivity—it is exclusion.

For Christians, the deeper lesson is clear. The Cross, borne on the banner of St George, is the truest and most universal standard of unity, for it signifies not transient politics but eternal salvation. Scripture itself declares: “Vexilla Regis prodeunt”—“the banners of the King go forth.”⁹ St Augustine contrasted the two cities: the City of Man, marked by pride and self-assertion, and the City of God, gathered under the standard of the Cross.¹⁰ And Pope Pius XI, in Quas Primas, reminded the world that “nations will be reminded by the annual celebration of this feast that rulers and princes are bound to give public honour and obedience to Christ.”¹¹

To reclaim our national flags, then, is more than an act of civic assertion; it is a reminder that no people can endure without symbols of common belonging, and that the highest of these is the banner of the Crucified King. To despise that heritage while enthroning ideological emblems is not only civic folly but spiritual blindness. True unity will not be found beneath the shifting colours of identity politics, but beneath the immovable standard of the Cross. For in Christ, patriotism is purified of faction, and love of country becomes an act of justice: pro patria et pro Deo, for country and for God, in whom all citizens may rediscover their common home and higher unity.

  1. Smith v Chief Constable of Northumbria Police [2025] EWHC 1805 (Admin); The Guardian, “Uniformed police officers were wrong to march in Pride event, high court rules,” 16 July 2025.
  2. The Sun, “Reform councils ban LGBT Pride flags from flying on council buildings,” 17 July 2025.
  3. The Guardian, “Dismay as council removes Pride flag in Derbyshire after Christians complain,” 19 June 2025.
  4. Local Government Lawyer, “Warwickshire chief exec defies Reform council leader’s request to remove Pride flag,” 21 June 2025.
  5. Local Government Lawyer, “Flying Pride flag needs advertising consent, says planning authority in Warwickshire row,” 21 June 2025.
  6. Local Government Lawyer, “London borough facing judicial review threat over road crossing painted in colours of Transgender Pride flag,” 24 June 2025.
  7. UK Government, Flying Flags: A Plain English Guide (updated 2023).
  8. Reuters, “England flags spark pride and concern amid anti-immigration protests,” 27 August 2025.
  9. Hymn of Venantius Fortunatus, Vexilla Regis prodeunt (6th century).
  10. St Augustine, De Civitate Dei, Book XIV.
  11. Pius XI, Quas Primas (1925), §32.


Gen Z and the Latin Mass: Beauty, Statistics, and a Quiet Revival

In recent months, secular media outlets that once predicted Christianity’s decline have begun to notice a different story. Fox News reported a “major resurgence among Gen Z,” the New York Post spoke of conversions “en masse,” and CNN launched a podcast entitled “Catholicism Is So Hot Right Now. Why?” The shift suggests that a quiet revival may be underway, though its depth remains uncertain.

Statistical Signals
New data have helped fuel this narrative. Pew Research reported in February 2025 that the decline of Christianity in the United States had slowed and may have stabilised. The Harvard Cooperative Election Study showed an increase in Gen Z Americans identifying as Catholic, rising from 15 percent in 2022 to 21 percent in 2023. In Britain, the Bible Society reported that 41 percent of Gen Z now identify as Catholic, compared to 20 percent as Anglican.

While striking, these statistics measure identification more than conversion, and cannot by themselves prove fidelity to Catholic teaching or sacramental life.

The Attraction of the Latin Mass
A key feature of this revival is the attraction of youth to the Traditional Latin Mass (TLM). Codified by Pope Pius V in 1570 and eclipsed after 1969 by the Novus Ordo Missae, the old rite has experienced remarkable growth.

The annual Chartres pilgrimage, centred on the TLM, drew 19,000 participants in 2025, with an average age of 20 and thousands placed on waiting lists. Traditional parishes, especially those served by the Priestly Fraternity of St. Peter (FSSP) and similar institutes, have reported congregations doubling in size, with young adults and families leading the way.

The attraction lies in the ritual stability, silence, Gregorian chant, and eastward orientation of priest and faithful. These elements embody transcendence and permanence in a world marked by fragmentation and chaos.

Beauty as Evangelical Power
Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger observed that beauty is not a superficial adornment but a piercing truth that “wounds man and opens his eyes.”¹ Romano Guardini, whose thought shaped much of the modern liturgical movement, emphasised that liturgy is not mere ceremony but the engagement of the whole person in worship.²

Dr. Peter Kwasniewski has underlined that the qualities which modern critics dismiss—length, silence, formality—are precisely those that form souls, offering “time for the mysteries to be absorbed.”³ For a generation immersed in digital noise, such contemplative worship offers healing and depth.

A Question of Depth: Gen Z Morality
Yet the decisive question remains: does this attraction to traditional liturgy correspond to conversion of life? Survey evidence is mixed.

  • Abortion and Assisted Suicide: In the United States, 65 percent of Gen Z men and 71 percent of Gen Z women support legal abortion.⁴ In the UK, nearly one-third of Gen Z respondents considered suicide “justifiable.”⁵
  • Honesty: Only 34 percent of Gen Z strongly agree that lying is immoral, compared with 61 percent of the oldest generation.⁶
  • Marriage and Modesty: 67 percent of Gen Z are indifferent to premarital cohabitation, and fewer than 40 percent affirm marriage as lifelong between one man and one woman.⁷
  • Family and Integrity: Family remains a strong personal value, often alongside honesty, but usually framed individualistically rather than sacramentally.⁸

The evidence suggests that while Gen Z is drawn to the beauty of Catholic worship, many remain shaped by secular relativism. Without catechesis, sacramental confession, and formation in moral truth, this attraction risks remaining at the level of aesthetics rather than maturing into conviction.

The Peril of Marginalisation
There is further danger in the ecclesial context. Traditional communities are often treated with suspicion by the mainstream hierarchy, restricted or marginalised under modernist policies. A Church controlled by bureaucratic hostility to tradition cannot hope to form a generation capable of resisting the world’s pressures. Communities reduced to mere enclaves, tolerated at best, are unlikely to engender the holiness and conviction necessary to withstand persecution or cultural collapse.

The lesson of history confirms this. During the English penal times, Catholics worshipped secretly in domestic chapels and barns, preserving not only the old Mass but the full moral vision of the faith. During the French Revolution, priests risked their lives to offer the sacraments in forests and private homes. In both cases, fidelity required more than aesthetic preference: it demanded conversion, sacrifice, and courage.

The Old Roman Apostolate (ORA) stands in this tradition. Born of the Catholic resistance to modernism, it has preserved both the traditional liturgy and the fullness of Catholic doctrine through decades of hostility. Like the underground priests of penal England or revolutionary France, the ORA insists that beauty without truth cannot save; only fidelity to the perennial magisterium can produce saints.

Conclusion: Beauty Must Lead to Conversion
The attraction of Gen Z to the Latin Mass is a hopeful sign. It reveals a generation longing for transcendence, permanence, and beauty. But beauty alone is insufficient. Cardinal Ratzinger reminded us: “The true apology of Christian faith … are the saints, and the beauty that the faith has generated.”⁹

To move from aesthetic attraction to authentic conversion, the Church must provide more than permission for isolated enclaves. It must preach moral truth, provide sacramental confession, restore ascetic discipline, and resist the corrosive influence of modernism. Only then will today’s “quiet revival” become a true restoration of Catholic faith—producing not cultural tourists, but saints.

The Old Roman Apostolate: Continuity Amidst Persecution

The attraction of Gen Z to the Traditional Latin Mass cannot be understood in isolation from the broader history of Catholic fidelity under persecution. In every age, when the dominant ecclesial or political powers sought to suppress the fullness of Catholic tradition, it has been small, marginalised communities that preserved both liturgy and doctrine intact.

Historical Parallels

  • Penal Times in England: Catholics deprived of churches maintained the Mass in manor houses, barns, and secret chapels. These gatherings were not social clubs but lifelines of grace, uniting fidelity to the ancient liturgy with courage to endure fines, imprisonment, or martyrdom.
  • The French Revolution: Priests risked execution to celebrate Mass clandestinely in forests or private homes. Here again, the faith survived not through accommodation but through heroic perseverance.
  • The Communist Era: In Eastern Europe, underground churches and hidden seminaries trained priests, preserving the sacraments against relentless hostility.

In every case, survival demanded more than aesthetic attachment. Fidelity to the Mass was inseparable from fidelity to Catholic moral truth, even at great personal cost.

The Witness of the Old Roman Apostolate
The Old Roman Apostolate (ORA) stands in this same line of witness. Originating in the rejection of modernist innovations, it preserved both the Traditional Latin Mass and the perennial magisterium through decades of marginalisation and misunderstanding.

Like the recusants of England or the confessors of Revolutionary France, Old Roman clergy and laity have endured the suspicion of mainstream ecclesiastical authorities while maintaining sacramental life with reverence, discipline, and doctrinal clarity.

The ORA insists that the liturgy cannot be severed from the fullness of Catholic moral teaching. It is not enough to be drawn by incense, chant, or solemnity; beauty must form souls for fidelity, for the daily carrying of the Cross, and for resistance to the spirit of the age. As the Apostolate has repeatedly emphasised, sacraments celebrated in continuity with tradition are efficacious only when accompanied by conversion of life.

A Model for Gen Z
For Gen Z Catholics newly discovering the TLM, the history and witness of the Old Roman Apostolate offers a model. The ORA shows that beauty and truth must be safeguarded together, that tradition without moral courage degenerates into aesthetics, and that authentic Catholic revival will always attract hostility from the world—and often from compromised churchmen.

The challenge is therefore clear: to ensure that the current “quiet revival” does not fade into cultural trendiness, but deepens into the kind of fidelity that produced martyrs, confessors, and saints. In this task, the ORA provides both example and encouragement: a living proof that amidst persecution, Catholic tradition endures.

  1. Joseph Ratzinger, The Feeling of Things, the Contemplation of Beauty (Rimini Meeting, 2002).
  2. Romano Guardini, The Spirit of the Liturgy (1923).
  3. Peter Kwasniewski, Reclaiming Our Roman Catholic Birthright (Arouca Press, 2020).
  4. Pew Research Center, “Public Opinion on Abortion” (2022).
  5. King’s College London, “UK now among most socially liberal of countries” (2021).
  6. Barna Group, The Gen Z Morality Report (2018).
  7. Pew Research Center, “Marriage and Cohabitation in the U.S.” (2019).
  8. Global survey data, Generation Z Values (2019).
  9. Ratzinger, The Feeling of Things.


“Though Unworthy…”: The Placeat tibi and the Priest’s Examination

It is a striking paradox that one of the most important prayers of the Roman Mass is never heard by the faithful. After the dismissal Ite, missa est and the final blessing, the celebrant bows low before the altar, hands joined, and silently whispers the words:

“Placeat tibi, sancta Trinitas, obsequium servitutis meae; et praesta ut sacrificium quod oculis tuae maiestatis indignus obtuli, tibi sit acceptabile; mihique et omnibus pro quibus illud obtuli, sit, te miserante, propitiabile. Per Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen.”

The very positioning of this prayer is itself a lesson. It comes after all is completed, after the visible work has been done, after the blessing has been imparted. The priest remains bowed in silence, as if to say: “I have done what was commanded; yet I am nothing. May it please Thee, O Holy Trinity.”

Here the Roman Rite exposes the heart of the Catholic doctrine of the priesthood and of sacrifice. What has been accomplished is objectively perfect, for it is Christ’s own Sacrifice made present upon the altar. But the minister is not perfect. He is unworthy. He has carried the chalice of salvation with trembling hands, and now he lays it down again, begging that the Trinity may accept the homage offered through him.

The hidden examen of the altar
The Placeat tibi functions as an unspoken examen for the priest. It confronts him with questions he dare not ignore:

  • Have I offered Mass for God’s glory, or have I sought my own?
  • Have I been solicitous for the salvation of souls, or careless, indifferent, distracted?
  • Have I remembered that I am an instrument in the hand of Christ, and not the centre of attention?

The Missale Romanum itself underscores this perspective in its decrees De defectibus, printed at the front of the book. The priest is reminded that defects of matter, form, or intention gravely compromise the Sacrifice. Thus, “If any of the necessary words are omitted, or changed into others of different meaning, the consecration does not take place” (De defectibus in consecratione verborum, V.20)¹. And further: “If the priest does not intend to consecrate but only to perform a kind of show, he does not consecrate. If, however, he thinks falsely that the Host already present before him is consecrated and for that reason does not intend to consecrate, he does not consecrate” (V.24)².

Even lesser defects are treated with gravity. For example, if the celebrant is not fasting, or is conscious of grave sin and dares to ascend the altar without confession, he sins mortally, even if the Mass itself is valid: “If anyone is a mortal sinner and dares to celebrate without confession, he sins mortally, yet he consecrates” (De defectibus in ministris, II.1)³.

The severity of these warnings is not clerical scrupulosity but priestly realism. The Placeat tibi is, in a sense, the subjective mirror of De defectibus: where the rubrics give objective law, the prayer gives interior humility. Even if all has been done correctly, the minister confesses: “Though unworthy, may my sacrifice be acceptable.”

The theology of propitiation
The key word of this prayer—propitiabile—is the word most absent from the postconciliar liturgy. The Council of Trent solemnly teaches that the Mass is a true propitiatory sacrifice, offered not only in praise and thanksgiving, but “for sins, punishments, satisfactions, and other necessities” of the living and the dead⁴. Here the priest acknowledges it directly: “Grant, O Trinity, that this sacrifice may be propitiatory for me and for those for whom I have offered it.”

What humility, and what comfort! Humility, for the priest admits that he, too, is in need of propitiation; comfort, because he knows that the Sacrifice he has offered is indeed sufficient for himself and for all. This is no empty self-examination, but a confession of faith in the propitiatory power of the Sacrifice of Calvary, renewed in an unbloody manner upon the altar.

A rebuke to modern liturgy
The disappearance of this prayer in the Novus Ordo is not accidental but symptomatic. It reflects the shift away from priestly humility, away from sacrificial language, away from propitiation. In its place we find a perfunctory dismissal—“Go forth, the Mass is ended”—which, while not false, lacks the depth of what came before. The priest is not invited to examine himself, nor to bow low before the Trinity, nor to beg mercy for himself and his flock.

The Roman Rite had preserved this final bow for nearly a millennium. It was the last safeguard against clerical presumption: you are not the master of this Sacrifice, you are its unworthy minister. Its suppression weakens the fabric of liturgical catechesis. Priests and people alike are deprived of that whispered lesson.

A lesson for every priest
Yet the prayer can still teach. Even priests who celebrate the reformed liturgy can adopt the Placeat tibi as a private examen. They may ask: Was my celebration today truly for God’s glory? Did I diminish myself so that Christ might increase? Or did I seek the approval of men?

The priest who takes the Placeat tibi to heart will never ascend the altar casually, nor depart it complacently. He will know that the Sacrifice is Christ’s, that his ministry is unworthy, and that mercy alone makes it fruitful. He will prepare with recollection, celebrate with reverence, and give thanks with humility.

Conclusion
The Roman Rite is wise to leave the Placeat tibi unspoken. Its silence teaches more than words could: the last word belongs not to the priest but to God. This prayer is the final bow of the servant who has done what was commanded. It is the whispered confession of unworthiness, the plea for mercy, the hope of propitiation.

If we priests allow this prayer to frame our approach to the altar, we will be saved from negligence, presumption, and pride. And if even those unfamiliar with the ancient liturgy take its lesson to heart, the celebration of every Mass will be deepened. For at the end of all things, after all our labours, one question remains: Has the sacrifice been offered for the glory of God, or for ourselves?

  1. Missale Romanum (1962), De defectibus in consecratione materiae et formae, V.20.
  2. Missale Romanum (1962), De defectibus in consecratione verborum, V.24.
  3. Missale Romanum (1962), De defectibus in ministris, II.1.
  4. Council of Trent, Session XXII, Canon 3; Denzinger-Hünermann 1753.
  5. St Augustine, On Baptism, Against the Donatists, Book III, ch. 10.
  6. Pius XII, Mediator Dei (1947), §§68–70.


The Rising Generation and the True Revival

From Surveys to Sanctity: Britain’s Youth Called to Resist Idols and Embrace the Cross

Britain’s religious landscape, long marked by decline and indifference, may be entering a period of remarkable renewal. New data suggest a profound shift among the nation’s youth, whose openness to the Gospel is reshaping public assumptions about faith in a post-Christian society.

The statistics are striking. According to YouGov’s biannual tracker, belief in God among 18–24-year-olds has nearly tripled in just three and a half years—from 16% in August 2021 to 45% in January 2025¹. Monthly church attendance among UK adults has risen from 8% in 2018 to 12% in 2024², an increase that translates into nearly two million additional people. Bible sales, too, have doubled since 2019, rising from £2.69 million to £5.02 million in 2024³.

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The growth is not uniform. The Church of England continues to lose ground, its share of churchgoing Christians falling from 41% to 34% since 2018. By contrast, Catholic attendance has risen from 23% to 31%, and Pentecostal attendance from 4% to 10%⁴. Among young adults, Catholics now outnumber Anglicans two-to-one.

What explains this shift?

Fr Damian Feeney of Holy Trinity, Ettingshall, points to a “desire for structure, shape, and routine… and a renewal of interest in traditional, liturgical worship among young adults.” He notes that beauty in language, colour, music, and ceremony exerts a growing appeal at a time when “secularism seems too one-dimensional and beige”⁵. This accords with the Catholic understanding of the liturgy as fons et culmen—the source and summit of the Christian life, where divine truth is mediated through sacramental signs.

Emma Buchan of the Church of England’s Networks Support Team interprets the trend differently: young people are “not primarily returning for tradition, but for an encounter with Christ that is transformative,” she argues, citing initiatives like The Way UK, a digital evangelisation project with a significant social media following⁶.

Both perspectives highlight something undeniable: the younger generation is spiritually searching. More than half of 18–24-year-olds report engaging in some form of spiritual practice within the past six months, while nearly a third express curiosity about learning more about the Bible⁷.

Yet questions remain. Is this revival durable, or a fleeting response to post-lockdown instability, economic anxiety, and political disorientation? One young woman told GB News that her faith, fervent in adolescence, dissolved at university when “Christianity’s rules” came to feel like “chains.” Such stories caution against triumphalism.

The Catholic tradition recognises both the fragility and the hope inherent in such moments. St Augustine warned that “the human heart is restless until it rests in God”⁸, yet Our Lord also warned of seed that “fell upon stony ground” and withered for lack of depth⁹. Revival statistics must therefore be weighed against the deeper question: are souls being truly converted to Christ and His Church, or merely drawn to a temporary sense of meaning?

From a doctrinal perspective, the present moment underlines two truths. First, the insufficiency of secularism, which Pope Pius XI described as a “conspiracy of silence about the problems of human life” that leaves man adrift without God¹⁰. Second, the perennial truth that authentic renewal in the Church always springs from fidelity to Christ, the sacraments, and the perennial magisterium. As Pius XII warned, “If the Church were to accommodate herself to the fleeting forms of modern life… she would betray herself”¹¹.

The opportunity is immense. Britain’s youth, once thought irretrievably secularised, are turning in fresh numbers toward Christ. Whether through the appeal of tradition, the witness of digital evangelists, or the simple human hunger for stability and truth, many are rediscovering the faith that built their nation. But revival cannot be sustained by statistics alone. It requires authentic catechesis, sacramental life, and the bold proclamation of the Gospel “in season and out of season”¹².

As Bible sales climb, churches fill, and young men and women step once more into the life of grace, the task of the Church is clear: to ensure that this moment of curiosity becomes a generation of conviction.

Yet revival cannot remain superficial. Numbers in a survey do not sanctify. The true test is whether this rising generation will resist the idols of their age, as St Agapitus resisted the idols of Rome¹³.

Those idols are no longer stone statues, but they are no less real. The world demands that we treat human nature itself as malleable, to be reshaped according to passing desire. Revival would mean young Catholics daring to affirm that “male and female He created them” (Gen 1:27), that the body is not an accident but a temple of the Holy Ghost (1 Cor 6:19).

The world glorifies promiscuity, parades vice as pride, and enslaves millions through the poison of pornography. Revival would mean a generation rising to embrace chastity and purity, showing forth the beauty of the body ordered to love, not to lust, and of marriage as a covenant, not a contract.

The world has made a golden calf of autonomy, sacrificing the most vulnerable—the unborn, the weak, the elderly—on the altar of convenience. Revival would mean young Catholics refusing to be silent, confessing with their lives that every child, every life, is a gift of God, never disposable.

The world demands conformity to slogans and ideologies, shaming those who dissent and silencing voices that speak the truth. Revival would mean youth willing to endure exclusion, ridicule, even persecution, rather than deny the Kingship of Christ.

And the world tells us that comfort is the highest good, that possessions and pleasure make us free. Revival would mean young men and women choosing sacrifice, fasting, prayer, works of mercy, and even martyrdom, rather than bowing before the idol of ease.

This is what revival looks like. Not vague spirituality or fashionable interest in religion, but radical conversion, public courage, and holy resistance. It is confessionals crowded, not survey answers ticked. It is Eucharistic adoration, not vague sentiment. It is vocations to the priesthood and religious life flourishing once more. It is families formed according to God’s law, not the world’s passing fashions. It is a generation of saints, unafraid to be mocked, ready to be martyred, who live as lights in the darkness.

Published on Selsey Substack! This post is public so feel free to share it.

Footnotes

  1. YouGov, Belief in God Tracker (August 2021–January 2025).
  2. YouGov Polling Data, 2018 vs 2024, UK monthly church attendance.
  3. Nielsen BookScan UK, Bible Sales 2019–2024.
  4. GB News summary of YouGov denominational data, 2025.
  5. Interview with Fr Damian Feeney, GB News, 15 August 2025.
  6. Emma Buchan, quoted in GB News, 15 August 2025.
  7. GB News citing YouGov survey on spiritual practice, 2025.
  8. St Augustine, Confessions, I.1.
  9. Mark 4:5–6 (Douay-Rheims).
  10. Pope Pius XI, Divini Redemptoris (1937), §6.
  11. Pope Pius XII, Address to the Roman Clergy (1949).
  12. 2 Timothy 4:2 (Douay-Rheims).
  13. St Agapitus of Palestrina, a Roman martyr of the third century, who at fifteen years old refused to sacrifice to the idols and was tortured and killed for confessing Christ. Martyrology, August 18.


Can Christianity Save the West?

Faith, Politics, and the Revival of a Civilisation in Crisis

Across the West, a growing number of voices—from disillusioned liberals to estranged conservatives—are reluctantly but urgently acknowledging a truth once mocked and now missed: only Christianity can save us.

This is not merely the cry of theologians or bishops, but the sober analysis of cultural commentators and political theorists who see clearly what many in the Church have forgotten: a civilisation cannot survive without a soul.

These voices come from different quarters—cultural, political, and theological—but their analyses increasingly converge. They are not simply listing grievances or indulging nostalgia. They are identifying the spiritual vacuum at the heart of our crisis, and pointing, however reluctantly, toward Christian revival as the only hope.

Some, like Douglas Murray, speak from a culturally secular standpoint, recognising the structural collapse of meaning in post-Christian Europe. For Murray, the moral infrastructure of Western civilisation—its laws, liberties, and social instincts—cannot survive the erosion of the Christian narrative that once animated them.¹ His diagnosis is sociological, not evangelical, but it reinforces the urgency of restoration.

Likewise, Tom Holland, the historian, has shown that even the secular West is inadvertently Christian in its moral reflexes. In Dominion, he traces liberal values such as human rights, dignity, and compassion for the weak—not to Enlightenment rationalism—but to the scandal of the Cross.⁹ Holland’s thesis is not a call to belief, but it demolishes the illusion of moral neutrality. Our political ideals have Christian roots.

Jordan Peterson and Ayaan Hirsi Ali, meanwhile, represent the conversion of conscience. Peterson, while not doctrinally Christian, insists that the Bible forms the meta-narrative of the West.² His popularisation of Christian ethics and anthropology has drawn millions toward the faith’s intellectual and moral foundations. Hirsi Ali, more dramatically, has converted—not only from Islam, but from atheism—to Christianity, declaring it the only serious bulwark against both secular meaninglessness and religious extremism.¹⁰

Where these thinkers highlight the civilisational implications of Christianity, others—Patrick DeneenMary Eberstadt, and Bijan Omrani—trace its concrete social and political consequences. Deneen critiques the incoherence of liberal democracy when severed from religious purpose.³ Eberstadt, through rigorous cultural analysis, links identity politics and societal disintegration to the collapse of Christian family ethics.⁵ Omrani appeals to British historical memory, demonstrating how our liberties emerged not in spite of Christianity, but because of it.⁶

Politicians like Danny Kruger MP and Nick Timothy MP have attempted to translate these insights into action. Kruger, invoking the Christian moral law in the House of Commons, urges the nation to rediscover the spiritual foundation of its laws.⁷ Timothy’s defence of free religious expression is grounded not in clericalism but in constitutional fairness, arguing that Christianity must have the same rights to public expression as any other worldview.⁸

Even Rafe Heydel-Mankoo, focused on cultural heritage, sees the loss of Christianity not merely as a decline in faith but as the dissolution of national identity.⁴ For him and others, to restore Christianity is not only to save souls—but to save the civilisational coherence of the West itself.

Together, these voices illustrate that revival cannot be a purely private event. If Christianity is true, then it must speak to the whole of life—not only the heart, but the home, the courtroom, the classroom, and the legislature.

And so we return to the central question:

Can a Christian revival be political?

Yes—but not in the way many imagine.

A true Christian revival will have political consequences—but it must never be reduced to political goals. If revival becomes a banner for partisanship, it is already lost. If it merely seeks to “restore the culture” without conversion of the heart, it is counterfeit. Christ did not die to make Britain moral again; He died to redeem the world.

Yet, if revival is real, it cannot help but reshape public life. The Gospel is not a private comfort. It is a public claim: Jesus is Lord—not just of heaven, but of earth; not just of the soul, but of society.

As such, a genuine revival will not be a Christian nationalism of flags and slogans, but a Christian reordering of life itself. It will begin in the confessional, but it will not end there. It will form saints—and saints change history.

What Revival Looks Like in the Political Sphere

  1. Moral Clarity in Law and Policy
    A revived Christian people will no longer accept laws that kill the unborn, mutilate the confused, or punish those who speak the truth. They will demand a political order that protects life, marriage, conscience, and religious liberty.
  2. Public Witness and Cultural Confidence
    Revival will embolden believers to act publicly—with charity but without compromise. It will inspire parents to challenge school indoctrination, professionals to live their faith at work, and citizens to reclaim Christian time and space: from Christmas to Sunday rest.
  3. Conscience-Formed Citizenship
    A true revival will raise up a generation of Christians who are in the world but not of it—informed by Scripture, guided by the natural law, and equipped to resist the tyranny of relativism. They will vote, legislate, and lead not as culture warriors, but as servants of Christ the King.
  4. Sanctifying the Institutions
    A revived Church will not seek power for its own sake, but will sanctify the institutions of society from within: law, education, media, medicine, politics. This is not dominionism—it is discipleship in public.

The Limits of Political Engagement

And yet, revival cannot be political first. It must be spiritual. No society was ever saved by legislation. Only grace changes hearts.

That truth is precisely what today’s political ideologues have forgotten. Whether they idolise the state or weaponise morality, their attempts to engineer utopia through law alone are doomed. They have inverted the order of renewal—attempting to remake culture without conversion, and power without penance. The result is always the same: disillusionment, division, and decay.

Today’s ideologues—whether radical progressives or reactionary authoritarians—are engaged in precisely this doomed effort. They believe that law can save society, that coercion can produce virtue. They pass laws to define identity, control language, and mandate belief. But they do not heal the soul. The crisis of meaning is a spiritual crisis, and politics alone cannot mend it.

The danger of politicising revival is not theoretical—it has happened before: in the moralism of post-war Britain, in the hollow civil religion of American conservatism, and in failed efforts to baptise party platforms. Without true conversion, Christian language becomes camouflage for worldly agendas.

Revival must come from below, not above: from the sanctuary, not the state. From the family, not the parliament. It will be led by ordinary saints, not special advisers. It will be slow, costly, and quiet. But it will bear fruit—if it is real.

Conclusion: The Gospel Is Public

We live in an age of cynicism and collapse, where even the idea of truth is contested. But a true revival will not accommodate that darkness—it will confront it with the light of Christ. The Lordship of Jesus is not a metaphor. It is a claim on every aspect of life.

And so yes, a Christian revival must shape the political realm.
But it will do so as salt and leaven—not through coercion, but through conviction.
Not through shouting, but through sacrifice.
Not through triumphalism, but through testimony.

To reclaim the West, we do not need a Christian party.
We need a Church on fire with the truth, beauty, and authority of Christ.
That alone can save the soul of the nation.

Published on Selsey Substack! This post is public so feel free to share it.

Footnotes

  1. Douglas Murray, The Strange Death of Europe, Bloomsbury, 2017.
  2. Jordan B. Peterson, 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos, Penguin, 2018.
  3. Patrick J. Deneen, Why Liberalism Failed, Yale University Press, 2018.
  4. Rafe Heydel-Mankoo, interviews and commentaries archived at The New Culture Forum and Winston Marshall Show, 2023–2025.
  5. Mary Eberstadt, Primal Screams: How the Sexual Revolution Created Identity Politics, Templeton Press, 2019.
  6. Bijan Omrani, interviews and commentary, 2024–2025.
  7. Danny Kruger MP, Hansard, House of Commons, 17 July 2025.
  8. Nick Timothy MP, Ten Minute Rule Bill on Religious Freedom, July 2025.
  9. Tom Holland, Dominion: The Making of the Western Mind, Little, Brown, 2019.
  10. Ayaan Hirsi Ali, “Why I am now a Christian,” UnHerd, November 2023.


No Special Treatment: How Nick Timothy’s Free Speech Bill Challenges Britain’s New Blasphemy Laws

A bold defence of liberty, conscience, and Christian witness in the face of rising legal intimidation and the creeping enforcement of Islamic blasphemy norms.

Nick Timothy MP’s Freedom of Expression Bill confronts the misuse of public order laws to suppress criticism of Islam, effectively reintroducing blasphemy law by stealth. His speech calls for equal legal treatment of all religions, protection for proselytism, and a rejection of intimidation. The Bill seeks to safeguard public discourse, Christian witness, and free speech rooted in conscience, resisting the rise of two-tier justice and affirming Britain’s constitutional liberties.

In one of the most forthright parliamentary interventions in recent history, Nick Timothy MP (West Suffolk) introduced the Freedom of Expression (Religion or Belief System) Bill on 17 July 2025 under the Ten-Minute Rule. The speech and the Bill together represent a watershed moment in the defence of liberty, confronting a growing problem in British public life: the de facto reintroduction of blasphemy laws, not through statute but through the misuse of public order and communications legislation.

Rooted in a firm commitment to both liberal legal tradition and Christian moral clarity, the Bill reasserts the principle that religious ideas must be open to scrutiny, criticism, and even ridicule. In a climate of increasing institutional timidity and cultural appeasement, it offers a legislative line in the sand: no belief system—especially Islam—shall be given special treatment in law.

“I do not believe that Mohammed was a Prophet sent by God. I do not accept the instructions he said he received from the Archangel Gabriel. I do not accept that the Sunna, or body of Islamic laws, has any relevance to me.”¹

Timothy went further, affirming that while he respects the beliefs of others, he “does not mind if Mohammed is satirised, criticised or mocked”, and—importantly“does not think anybody should be prosecuted for satirising, criticising or mocking Jesus either.”

In these remarks, Timothy made clear that the Bill does not seek to privilege Christianity but to re-establish legal neutrality. If Christ may be mocked, then so may Muhammad. The law, he insisted, must not bend to the fear of violence, nor favour those who demand protection for their sensibilities while offering none to others.

Though England and Wales formally abolished the common law offence of blasphemy in 2008—and Scotland followed in 2021²—Timothy pointed to the resurgence of blasphemy logic through the application of sections 4 and 5 of the Public Order Act 1986. These provisions, originally designed to prevent violent disorder and harassment, are now being used to suppress religious criticism, especially of Islam:

“I have been advised not to refer to two high-profile cases of people being arrested, charged and prosecuted for causing harassment, alarm or distress to Muslims—or even, nonsensically, to Islam itself.”³

In one such case, the Crown Prosecution Service charged a man with causing “distress to the religious institution of Islam”—a phrase Timothy rightly described as “pretty much the dictionary definition of blasphemy.”

This creeping development, he warned, has created a two-tier system of justice: rough justice for law-abiding citizens who speak freely, and impunity for those who threaten violence in response to offence:

“This is the very essence of the two-tier policing row we have seen recently: rough justice for those belonging to identity groups that play by the rules, and freedom from justice for those belonging to groups willing to take to the streets and threaten violence.”

Timothy traced the original intent of the Public Order Act 1986, noting its context in football hooliganism and urban rioting—not religious protection:

“Nowhere in the Second Reading debate from 1986 did anybody raise the need to protect religions or followers of religions from offence.”

While Part III of the Act was later amended to include religious hatred (under the Racial and Religious Hatred Act 2006), it was paired with section 29J, a freedom of expression clause ensuring that nothing in Part III “shall be read or given effect in a way which prohibits or restricts discussion, criticism or expressions of antipathy, dislike, ridicule, insult or abuse” of religions or beliefs.⁷

However, that safeguard does not apply to sections 4 and 5 of the same Act, nor to communications law. The result is a patchwork of legal vulnerability, allowing authorities to suppress speech on religion without breaching Part III.

The Freedom of Expression (Religion or Belief System) Bill (Bill 257) seeks to close this loophole. It contains two clauses.

Clause 1 replaces section 29J with a revised version extending the freedom of expression protections across:

– The entire Public Order Act 1986, including sections 4 and 5
– Section 1 of the Malicious Communications Act 1988
– Section 127 of the Communications Act 2003⁸

The revised text affirms that nothing in these Acts:

“…shall be read or given effect in a way which prohibits or restricts discussion, criticism or expressions of antipathy, dislike, ridicule, insult or abuse of particular religions… or proselytising or urging adherents of a different religion or belief system to cease practising their religion or belief system.”

This is a remarkably robust defence of religious liberty in both directions: to profess, to reject, and to attempt to persuade others of the truth.

Clause 2 states that the Bill is to come into force immediately upon Royal Assent and applies wherever the amended laws apply, namely England and Wales.

At stake is not merely the right to “cause offence,” but the integrity of public discourse and the principle of equal justice. The law must not favour those willing to resort to threats. As Timothy noted:

“Twisting the law to make a protestor responsible for the violent reaction of those who will not tolerate the opinions of others is wrong; it destroys our freedom of speech.”

To allow such a precedent is to embolden the most aggressive elements of any community while silencing dissenters and truth-tellers. The Batley Grammar School affair, in which a teacher remains in hiding for showing a historical image of Muhammad during a lesson on free speech, stands as a grim example.¹⁰

A still more shocking case emerged in 2025: a man who publicly burned a Qur’an in protest outside the Turkish consulate in London was stabbed during the demonstration—and yet was later convicted of religiously aggravated public order offences and fined £240.¹¹ His assailant is reportedly scheduled to face trial in 2027.¹² The victim’s speech—not the act of physical violence against him—became the basis of legal sanction. Such an inversion of justice confirms that in contemporary Britain, the perception of offence can now outweigh the reality of harm.

From a Christian perspective, the Bill is vital. The freedom to evangelise—explicitly protected in the Bill’s wording—has been under threat for years, with Christian street preachers arrested under claims of harassment for quoting Scripture.¹³

If enacted, this Bill would provide a crucial legal shield for orthodox Christian witness, as well as for atheists, ex-Muslims, and others who face social and legal pressure to remain silent.

The Freedom of Expression (Religion or Belief System) Bill is not a radical departure but a necessary reaffirmation of Britain’s moral and constitutional inheritance. It declares, in law, that no religion is beyond critique, and that no threat of violence may determine the boundaries of public discourse.

Timothy’s closing words were unflinching:

“This country will not tolerate intimidation, violence or censorship, that there will be no special treatment here for Islam, and that there will be no surrender to the thugs who want to impose their beliefs and culture on the rest of us.”¹⁴

This is not hatred. It is the recovery of moral courage—and the defence of that sacred space in which truth may still be spoken.

For those who still believe that reason, persuasion, and conscience should govern our civic life, this Bill is not only necessary but overdue.

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¹ Hansard, HC Deb, 17 July 2025, Vol. 749, col. 271.
² Criminal Justice and Immigration Act 2008, s.79; Hate Crime and Public Order (Scotland) Act 2021, s.1.
³ Hansard, HC Deb, 17 July 2025, col. 272.
⁴ Ibid.
⁵ Ibid., col. 273.
⁶ Ibid.
⁷ Public Order Act 1986, s.29J, inserted by the Racial and Religious Hatred Act 2006, s.6.
⁸ Freedom of Expression (Religion or Belief System) Bill, Bill 257 [as introduced], 10 June 2025, Clause 1.
⁹ Hansard, HC Deb, 17 July 2025, col. 273.
¹⁰ BBC News, “Batley Grammar School: Teacher Still in Hiding,” 25 March 2023.
¹¹ Daily Mail, “Kurdish atheist fined for burning Qur’an,” 17 July 2025.
¹² Daily Record, “CPS confirms 2027 trial date for attacker in Qur’an burning case,” 16 July 2025.
¹³ Christian Concern, “Street Preacher Arrested for Quoting the Bible,” 2022–2024 case archive.
¹⁴ Hansard, HC Deb, 17 July 2025, col. 274.



When Christ Is Not King: Islam, Immigration, and the Collapse of Christian Britain

Britain’s transformation under mass Islamic immigration reflects a deeper spiritual collapse. With churches closing, mosques multiplying, crime rising, and cultural confidence eroding, the nation reaps the fruits of abandoning Christ. A truly Christian society—with strong families, moral clarity, and cohesive identity—would resist such decline. Without conversion and courage, Britain’s future is not multicultural harmony, but civilisational eclipse. Only Christ can restore what was lost.

The question is no longer whether mass Islamic immigration has changed Britain—it is whether anything remains capable of restoring what was lost. From grooming gangs to terror attacks, mosque expansion to church closures, rising welfare dependency to demographic replacement, the facts are available to all who have eyes to see. What is lacking is not evidence, but the spiritual courage to ask: How did we allow this?

This is not merely a question of public policy or border management. It is a question of religious failure. For when Christ is no longer King of hearts, homes, and nations, a vacuum forms—and something else always fills it.

A Post-Christian Culture Welcomes a Post-Christian Religion

In 2001, the UK’s Muslim population stood at approximately 1.6 million. By 2021, it had risen to nearly 4 million, a growth of 143% in two decades¹. Pew Research estimates the fertility rate of Muslim women in the UK at 3.0, compared to 1.8 for non-Muslims, both well above and below the replacement rate of 2.1, respectively².

These changes point toward a broader demographic shift. Political scientist Prof. Matthew Goodwin projects that the White British share of the population, currently around 73%, will drop below 50% by 2063, and decline to just 33.7% by the year 2100 if present trends continue³.

The answer lies in a culture of death. Since 1967, the UK has aborted over 10 million unborn children. Marriage has been undermined, contraception promoted, family life destabilised, and fatherhood devalued. The result? A demographic winter for native Britons—while those with stronger family structures and religious convictions fill the void.

In short: Islam expands because secularism contracts, and the Church sleeps.

What Happens When Christian Order Is Rejected

Once the moral framework of Christendom was discarded, society lost not just theology, but social cohesion and public virtue. In its place, Britain now faces statistics that would have once been unthinkable:

  • Muslims make up 18% of the prison population in England and Wales, despite comprising only 6.5% of the population⁴.
  • Between 1997 and 2013, over 1,400 girls in Rotherham alone were systematically abused by grooming gangs, with most perpetrators identified as Pakistani Muslim men⁵. Estimated figures nationally soar into the hundreds of thousands.
  • 2024 FOI request revealed £3.6 million was spent at just one NHS trust to treat 1,559 genetic disorders linked to cousin marriage⁶.
  • Sharia courts, currently numbering 85 across the UK, operate in defiance of English legal norms and often deny women justice⁷.
  • Estimates suggest as many as 20,000 polygamous marriages exist in the UK, celebrated in mosques but ignored by British civil law⁸.

In early 2025, Parliament debated the proposed banning of first-cousin marriages, prompted by mounting public health and integration concerns. Richard Holden MP introduced the bill, citing studies indicating that 40–60% of marriages in Pakistani and Bangladeshi communities involved cousins, with the rate of congenital disorders nearly doubling from 2% to 4%. While the Government delayed action, citing wider legal reforms, the public overwhelmingly supported the ban—with 77% of Britons and 82% of Reform UK supporters in favour. Yet Muslim MPs urged caution: Iqbal Mohamed MP warned the ban would be “unenforceable and stigmatising,” calling instead for genetic screening and education, while neurologist Dr Qurratul‑Ain Rehman described the proposal as “prejudiced,” noting that other comparable pregnancy risks like smoking or late maternal age are not banned by law.

Sharia courts, currently numbering 85 across the UK, operate in defiance of English legal norms and often deny women justice⁷.

Estimates suggest as many as 20,000 polygamous marriages exist in the UK, celebrated in mosques but ignored by British civil law⁸.These are not isolated phenomena.

They are the fruit of a culture no longer confident in its own moral foundation, unable to distinguish tolerance from surrender.

Churches Close, Mosques Multiply

While the State and Crown issue greetings for Ramadan and defend Islamic “values,” the quiet apostasy of Christian Britain continues:

  • More than 3,500 churches have closed in the past decade⁹.
  • Meanwhile, 800 to 900 new mosque facilities—including converted churches—have opened, many with State support¹⁰.
  • The White British population, now around 73%, is projected by Prof. Matthew Goodwin to fall below 50% by 2063, and to just 33.7% by 2100¹¹.

Nowhere is Britain’s spiritual collapse more visibly symbolised than in the transformation of its religious architecture. In the past decade alone, more than 3,500 churches across the UK have closed their doors⁹. Once the spiritual centres of towns and parishes, many have been sold off, demolished, or converted into private residences, art venues, community halls—or, increasingly, mosques. Some are stripped of altars and crosses, their baptismal fonts left dry while Islamic calligraphy replaces the Gospel on their walls.

At the same time, Britain has seen the proliferation of mosques, with a net increase of 800 to 900 new Islamic facilities over the same period¹⁰. These include purpose-built mosques, often funded with overseas money, as well as converted churches, synagogues, and civic buildings, now reoriented toward Mecca. In places like Bradford, Luton, Leicester, Birmingham, and east London, the skyline is now punctuated not by spires but by minarets.

This is not the natural result of multicultural harmony. It is the visible manifestation of a spiritual displacement. The Church’s eclipse in public life—abetted by secularism and doctrinal compromise—has left a vacuum. Where the voice of Christ once rang through choirs and bells, the muezzin now calls out in Arabic. And still the bishops say nothing.

Some defenders of this trend speak of “religious diversity” and “interfaith progress.” But in reality, the closure of churches and expansion of mosques is not religious pluralism—it is religious replacement. No Catholic can witness this inversion without mourning the loss of what these buildings once represented: the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the real presence of Christ in the tabernacle, the consecration of public space to the glory of God.

In earlier centuries, such a transformation could only have followed conquest. Today, it proceeds not by sword but by baptismal apostasyecclesial cowardice, and state-sponsored self-hatred. Where once there was a Christendom that built cathedrals, there is now a Britain that cannot keep its parish doors open.

A nation that refuses to honour its sacred places will inevitably be ruled by others who do. And yet, the cultural elite speak only of “progress.”

Economic Inactivity and Integration Failures

The collapse of economic participation among key immigrant populations is not simply a fiscal concern—it is a symptom of failed integration, broken anthropology, and a society that no longer knows how to cultivate virtue.

According to the 2021 Census, only 51.4% of working-age Muslims (aged 16–64) in the UK were employed, compared to 70.9% of the general population¹². Meanwhile, a striking 41.9% of Muslims were economically inactive—neither working nor seeking work. These figures reflect not only structural issues in the job market but also deeper questions about cultural values, gender norms, and spiritual formation.

In many Islamic communities, particularly among recently arrived or traditionally conservative groups, women are discouraged from working outside the home, and education beyond a certain age is undervalued for girls. Language barriers, parallel schooling, and poor civic formation contribute to long-term detachment from the economic and civic life of the nation.

But what makes this situation morally grave is not simply the disparity—it is the dependence on a welfare state funded by the very population being demographically displaced. A society that invites large numbers of migrants and then subsidises non-participation is not exercising Christian charity—it is committing cultural suicide under the banner of tolerance.

Catholic social teaching insists that work is a participation in God’s creative act (cf. Laborem Exercens, §25), and that idleness corrodes the dignity of the human person. St. Paul commands in no uncertain terms: “If any man will not work, neither let him eat” (2 Thess 3:10). A just society cultivates industriousness, self-reliance, and solidarity—not long-term dependency masked as compassion.

This breakdown of integration is also evident in the housing and immigration crisis. Between 2021 and 2025, over 178,000 illegal migrants largely from Islamic nations such as Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Syria, and Sudan arrived in the UK via small boats, with record highs in 2022 (45,774 arrivals) and ongoing increases in 2025¹³. The majority are young men from Muslim-majority nations—Afghanistan, Iran, Iraq, Syria, Sudan, Eritrea—most of whom bring with them no skills, no knowledge of English law or culture, and no inclination toward assimilation.

These arrivals are overwhelmingly settled in asylum hotels—at massive taxpayer expense—without consent from the local communities. Many of these hotels are located near schools, parks, and churches, creating understandable anxiety among the public, especially after multiple high-profile criminal incidents.

A Christian nation would insist not only on legal borders but on moral borders: the integration of outsiders into the natural law, the faith, and the civic duties of the host country. But Britain, having lost its own sense of purpose, offers nothing for immigrants to adopt. It welcomes them materially while abandoning them spiritually—resulting in neither peace nor prosperity, but paralysing fragmentation.

A policy of open borders and passive welfare is not mercy. It is an abdication of duty, both to the native poor and to the immigrant soul. Charity does not mean naivety, and mercy does not demand societal suicide.

Security: A State That Will Not Name the Threat

In any sane polity, the first duty of the state is the protection of the innocent. And yet, in modern Britain, this fundamental principle has been compromised by ideological blindness and religious relativism. When it comes to Islamist violence and radicalisation, the official response is not clarity, but cowardice.

Since 2005, the United Kingdom has suffered at least ten major Islamist terror attacks on its soil. These include the 7/7 London bombings, in which 52 were murdered and 700 injured; the Westminster Bridge attack (2017); the Manchester Arena bombing, targeting children; the London Bridge stabbings (2017 and 2019); and the Reading terror attack (2020)¹⁴. All of these were committed by men radicalised in Britain or welcomed to Britain—often by a system too afraid to challenge the very ideology that inspired them.

As of 2023–2024, over 800 live Islamist-related investigations were active in the UK, according to the Home Office and MI5. Security services continue to disrupt plots involving explosives, knives, vehicular attacks, and lone-wolf jihadists, often operating under the radar in mosques, online forums, and migrant reception centres.

And yet despite this clear and recurring threat, the government continues to treat Islam—not just Muslims, but Islam as a belief system—as a sacred cow in the public square. It is unacceptable to questiondangerous to criticise, and often legally risky to even publicly debate the doctrinal origins of Islamic violence.

Instead of forthright analysis, Britain’s institutions engage in elaborate denials. Islamist violence is labelled “random,” “mental health-related,” or “perpetrated by lone actors.” The police stage interfaith photo ops in the aftermath of bombings. Schools and councils are told to celebrate Islamophobia Awareness Month, but not to address the actual radicalisation of young Muslim men. While churches are locked and priests arrested for silent prayer near abortion clinics, jihadists are released early from prison, and mosques linked to radical preaching remain untouched.

This is not mere liberalism—it is state-sponsored delusion. And it has consequences far beyond security. It sends a signal to every citizen that their rulers would rather see them dead than be called bigots.

But more deeply, the failure to name the threat is rooted in a false theology of religious equivalence. The post-conciliar narrative that all religions are expressions of the same divine truth has crippled the West’s moral immune system. No longer confident that Christ is King, the modern state refuses to say that Islam is false, that its rejection of the Incarnation is heresy, and that its political ambitions are incompatible with a Christian civilisation.

The early Church had no such illusions. The Fathers called Islam a Christian heresy and a plague upon the faithful. St. John Damascene, writing from within the Caliphate, named Muhammad a false prophet. St. Thomas Aquinas declared that Islam seduces by the sword, offering carnal promises instead of spiritual truth. The Church’s martyrs died not for pluralism, but for the Gospel.

And yet in 21st-century Britain, the faithful are asked to treat Islam not as error to be converted, but as a “partner in dialogue”—even as it fills the prisons, dominates the terror watch lists, and continues to claim the lives of the innocent.

This is not just a security failure. It is a crisis of faith. A Christian nation would evangelise its Muslim population—not fear it, flatter it, or fund it.

Parliament Acknowledges the Cost—but Still Refuses the Cause

Even some politicians have begun to admit what the people already know. In July 2025, Chris Philp MP, former Policing Minister, told the House of Commons that Britain now faces a “public safety crisis,” citing over 23,000 illegal arrivals across the Channel in the first half of the year—a 52% increase on the same period in 2024. More damningly, 339 criminal charges were brought against illegal migrants in just six months, including rape, attempted rape, assault, arson, and theft, many of them committed in or around the very asylum hotels funded by the taxpayer¹⁵. Cases cited included the rape of a 20-year-old woman in an Oxford churchyard and the attempted rape of a woman in a nightclub in Wakefield. And yet, despite these revelations, there is no serious movement among party leaders to close the border, much less to restore the spiritual and cultural vision that once gave Britain unity, confidence, and peace.

What If Britain Had Followed Japan?
A tale of two nations: one that surrendered its soul, and one that guarded its borders

In reflecting on Britain’s transformation under mass immigration and Islamic expansion, it is instructive to consider what might have been—not in fantasy, but in practical policy. Take Japan, a nation that, though secular, has successfully preserved its identity through firm immigration control.

Japan’s approach includes:

  • No mass immigration: Foreign-born residents are less than 3% of Japan’s population, compared to 15% in the UK.¹⁶
  • Tight asylum restrictions: Japan accepts fewer than 100 refugees per year, even amid global migration crises.¹⁷
  • Controlled labour migration: Work visas are issued for targeted sectors under strict conditions.
  • No legal pluralism: Japanese law applies universally—no Sharia courts, no polygamy, no cultural exemptions.
  • Cultural continuity: Assimilation is expected; multiculturalism is rejected.
  • Zero Islamist terror attacks: Japan has had no domestic Islamist violence.

Had Britain adopted this model from 1960 onwards:

  • Churches would not be closing by the hundreds.
  • Mosque expansion would be minimal.
  • Grooming gangs and parallel legal systems would not exist.
  • Demographic stability would persist.
  • There would likely be no terror attacks, no burdened welfare systems, and no loss of cultural confidence.

Even without Christianity, Japan demonstrates what prudence, law, and national will can achieve. Britain once had all these—and more. She had the Gospel.

What Japan Preserves by Policy, Christendom Once Preserved by Grace

Japan is not a model of sanctity, but it is a model of seriousness. And it exposes Britain’s failure all the more. What Japan has achieved by natural reason and national pride, a Catholic nation could have done better—by grace, truth, and faith. But modern Britain chose neither God nor country. It chose multiculturalism, moral relativism, and managed decline.

Conclusion: Not an Immigration Crisis—But an Evangelisation Crisis

Immigration is not the root cause of Britain’s transformation. It is the consequence of our own apostasy. A truly Catholic people, united in the faith, obedient to the Gospel, and confident in truth, would not be overwhelmed by those who believe otherwise.

But having abandoned Christ, the nation now bows to every foreign altar and calls it progress. The answer is not racial nationalism or secular populism. The answer is conversion—to Christ, to His Church, to the Catholic order that once made Britain great.

Unless we repent, the mosques will continue to rise, the churches will continue to fall, and the kingdom once dedicated to Mary’s Dowry will become a footnote in history.

Only Christ can save Britain. But He will not save a nation that refuses to be His.

First published on Selsey Substack. Visit today and subscribe!

  1. UK Census 2001 and 2021 data on religious affiliation.
  2. Pew Research Center, Europe’s Growing Muslim Population, Nov 2017.
  3. Prof. Matthew Goodwin, projections, 2023–2025.
  4. Ministry of Justice, Offender Management Statistics, 2022–2023.
  5. Jay Report (Rotherham), 2014.
  6. FOI response, Birmingham Women’s and Children’s NHS Trust, July 2025.
  7. The Times, “Inside Britain’s Sharia Councils,” Feb 2024.
  8. House of Commons Briefing Paper: Polygamy and the Law, 2023.
  9. National Churches Trust, “Church Closures,” 2024.
  10. Muslim Council of Britain and Building Mosques UK data, 2015–2024.
  11. Prof. Matthew Goodwin, cited above.
  12. UK Census 2021; ONS Labour Force Survey.
  13. UK Home Office, “Irregular Migration to the UK,” July 2025.
  14. MI5 and Home Office counterterrorism briefings, 2022–2024.
  15. Hansard, HC Deb, 18 July 2025, col. 901–903; Chris Philp MP; The Sun crime figures report, July 2025.
  16. UN DESA Migration Report 2022; UK ONS.
  17. Japan Ministry of Justice, Immigration Services Agency Annual Report, 2023.


Erased for Believing: What the Smith Judgment Means for Me

After signing a letter defending pastoral freedom, I was quietly excluded from civic roles in Brighton. No vote. No process. Just erasure. The High Court’s Smith judgment confirms what happened to me was wrong—and likely unlawful. Equality must not mean ideology..

How the misuse of the Public Sector Equality Duty erased my voice—and why the courts now agree it was wrong.

As someone who has spent decades serving the common good in civic and interfaith life in Brighton and Hove, the recent Smith v Chief Constable of Northumbria Police High Court judgment stirred something deeply personal in me. It affirmed a principle I’ve long held but which, until now, had no formal legal footing: public authorities have no right to exclude or marginalise individuals simply because of their legally protected beliefs.Subscribed

The ruling is a landmark for freedom of belief in Britain. Mr Justice Swift ruled that “public authorities must remain neutral as between competing political or moral positions”¹. This includes religious and philosophical convictions, even those that others might find uncomfortable. No public body has the right to punish a citizen for lawful, sincerely held beliefs.

This matters to me because in 2022, I was effectively excluded from civic representation in Brighton & Hove on precisely these grounds.

I had served as a long-standing community leader, having chaired both the Brighton and Hove Faith Council and Brighton and Hove Faith in Action (BHFA), a recognised partner in the city’s Third Sector Investment Programme (TSIP). In fact, I am the only individual to have chaired both organisations—roles to which I was elected by peers from across faith traditions, not political allies². I was also elected by the members of Community Works—the city’s umbrella network for voluntary and community sector organisations—to represent faith communities on their Representative Committee³.

The catalyst for my exclusion was my decision to sign, in late 2021, an open letter to the Government expressing concern about its proposed legislation on so-called “conversion therapy.” This term—ill-defined and ideologically loaded—was being used to describe a wide spectrum of activity, from coercive and abusive practices (which I wholeheartedly reject and condemn) to consensual pastoral conversations, prayer, or the teaching of biblical doctrine on sex and identity.

My concern, shared by many respected clergy and legal professionals, was that the proposed law could criminalise the freedom of individuals to seek help in living according to their faith and conscience⁴. The letter was co-signed by more than 2,500 clergy, rabbis, imams, and other religious leaders, representing a broad and diverse interfaith coalition united in their concern for freedom of belief and pastoral care⁵. I believed, and still do, that to forbid prayer, pastoral care, or spiritual counsel offered freely and without coercion would not only breach religious liberty but violate common sense and compassion. I signed the letter not as Chair of BHFA or the Faith Council, but as a Christian bishop acting in a personal and representative religious capacity.

Nonetheless, BHCC officers demanded meetings with BHFA trustees and expressed concern about my continued leadership. At those meetings, council officers not only criticised me personally but also made broader criticisms of mainstream religious doctrine—including the notion of sin. They cited the Public Sector Equality Duty (PSED) as justification for their concerns, implying that the presence of someone holding my views might place BHFA in breach of equality expectations. On that basis, they suggested that the organisation’s eligibility for TSIP funding might be subject to review if I remained in post⁶.

My fellow trustees, anxious about funding and reputational damage, began to feel the pressure. Though there was no formal allegation, vote of no confidence, or challenge to my elected standing, I stepped down as BHFA Chair to avoid causing division—citing health and time commitments. But the truth is, this was a courteous act in the face of real coercion⁷.

What followed was more disconcerting. Though I had been re-elected by Community Works’ membership as Faith Representative, the organisation refused to ratify or publicise my appointment. I was delisted, emails went unanswered, and I was excluded from all activities—without explanation, consultation, or even a conversation. At a private meeting, their then-CEO disclosed that an LGBT-identified faith group had raised objections to my views, and that CW was informally reviewing my position. That process was never explained, nor was I ever given an opportunity to respond. My removal was silent and total—an erasure⁸.

This case also draws attention to a broader and increasingly well-documented problem: the misuse of the Public Sector Equality Duty (PSED) by ideologically motivated activists embedded within public bodies. Originally designed to protect individuals from discrimination, the PSED is now often interpreted expansively and subjectively by equality, diversity, and inclusion (EDI) officers to suppress dissenting views—especially traditional religious or conservative beliefs. Critics have warned that the duty is being applied not with neutral procedural intent, but as a tool to enforce political conformity. This includes instances of compelled speech, censorship of alternative moral or philosophical positions, and the institutional marginalisation of those who dissent from prevailing ideologies concerning gender, sexuality, or race⁹. A Policy Exchange report specifically highlights how the PSED has been “instrumentalised” to sideline religious or conservative perspectives under the guise of inclusion¹⁰. It is a striking irony that a law meant to ensure equality is now being used to undermine pluralism and civic impartiality.

The Smith judgment has now made clear that public authorities and those acting on their behalf must not discriminate on the basis of lawfully protected beliefs. The High Court has affirmed that impartiality is not optional. In my case, BHCC acted improperly in pressuring BHFA trustees over my Christian views. Community Works, in turn, acted improperly in excluding me from the faith representative role to which I had been duly elected¹¹.

Unfortunately, the legal time limits to bring a formal claim under the Equality Act 2010 have now expired. Nevertheless, I have instructed legal counsel to write once again to Brighton & Hove City Council, Community Works, and BHFA requesting a public apology and formal acknowledgment of the wrongdoing I suffered. I do so not for personal vindication, but in the hope that future acts of exclusion and quiet discrimination may be prevented¹².

The Smith judgment has implications not only for local councils but for national government policy. The original consultation response to the proposed conversion therapy ban, like the behaviour of Brighton & Hove officials, seemed more responsive to activist pressure than to reasoned and representative religious voices¹³.

What happened in Brighton is not isolated. It reflects a broader trend in British public life: the narrowing of acceptable opinion under the guise of inclusion, and the ideological capture of civic institutions once committed to impartiality.

Faith representation, especially in a city like Brighton and Hove, should not mean conformity to a narrow ideological script. It should mean real diversity, robust dialogue, and equal dignity for people of all sincerely held beliefs.

The Smith ruling gives fresh hope that this may one day be true again.

It is now imperative that a proper and principled understanding of the Public Sector Equality Duty (PSED) be restored and consistently applied across all institutions and public bodies. The PSED must not serve as a pretext for ideological enforcement, but as a genuine safeguard for fairness, impartiality, and lawful pluralism. Unless this corrective takes place, the Duty risks becoming an instrument of coercion rather than protection, accelerating the damaging and disruptive advance of harmful ideologies—particularly within schools, councils, and civic spaces—where genuine diversity of thought and belief ought to flourish.

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  1. Smith v Chief Constable of Northumbria Police, [2025] EWHC 1782 (Admin), para. 95.
  2. “Concerning the Minister’s Consultation Response,” Selsey.org, 16 Sept 2023, https://selsey.org/2023/09/16/concerning-the-ministers-consultation-response/.
  3. Community Works coordinates the faith sector and manages Brighton and Hove’s Third Sector Investment Programme (TSIP).
  4. Ibid.
  5. The open letter was submitted to Rt Hon Elizabeth Truss MP, then Minister for Women and Equalities, by the Christian Legal Centre and a coalition of religious leaders.
  6. Correspondence and trustee accounts confirm BHCC officials invoked the PSED during meetings with BHFA in early 2022.
  7. “Concerning the Minister’s Consultation Response,” section: Unlawful discrimination in civic society?
  8. Ibid., section: The erosion of civic neutrality.
  9. See e.g. Joanna Williams, How Woke Won (2022), and recent EDI audits critiqued in The Critic, March 2023.
  10. “Fair Equality or False Neutrality? The Misuse of the Public Sector Equality Duty”, Policy Exchange, 2020.
  11. Smith, paras. 79–96; also Equal Treatment Bench Book (Judicial College), February 2021, on impartiality and freedom of belief.
  12. The limitation period under the Equality Act 2010 is three months less one day from the last act of discrimination, subject to discretion of the Tribunal.
  13. Selsey.org, ibid., final section reflecting on institutional neutrality and ideological capture.