'1SAW RELIGION IN ACTION IN THE SHELTERS":

THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND'S EXPERIENCE

IN WAR-TIME LONDON, 1939 - 1945

Gregory Edwin Dochuk

B.A., Simon Fraser University, 1999

THESIS SUBMITED IN PARTIAL FLJLFUMENT OF

THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF

MASTER OF ARTS

In the Department

of

History

@Gregory Edwin Dochuk 20o\

SIMON FRASER UNIVERSlTY

May 200 1

Al1 cights reserved. This work may not be reproduced in whole or in part, by photocopy or other means, without permission of the author uisiaans and Acquisitions et raphii Services wtvices bibliographiques

The author has granted a non- L'auteur a accord6 une licence non exclusive licence allowing the exclusive permettant à la National Library of Canada to Biôlioth&quenationale du Canada de reproduce, lm, distriiute or seiî reproduire, prêter, disûibuer ou copies of this thesis in microform, vendre des copies de cette thèse sous paper or electronic formats. la fome de microfiche/film, de reproduction sur papier ou sur format dectronique.

The author retains ownership of the L'auteur conserve la propiété du copyright in this thesis. Neither the droit d'auteur qui protège cette thèse. thesis nor substantial extracts fiom it Ni la thèse ni des extraits substantiels may be printed or otherwise de celle-ci ne doivent ëtre imprimés reproduced without the author's ou autrement reproduits sans son permission. autorisation. Abstract The study of Britain during World War il often centers upon the effects of the war experience on the home front. Because the war reached Greater London through bombings, raiioning, evacuation, the threat of invasion, and the total mobilization of the population, many of the institutions that were integrai to traditional notions of community in British society were affected. The extent to which these institutions, and British society as a whole, were transformed irrevocably by the war, however, is the subject of much historical debate. The war certainly resulted in tangible changes such as the election of the Labour Govemment in 1945 and the Beveridge inspired refonns. However, the extent to which the war brought about radical change to the attitudes and ideas chat were inherent in the community in Britain is not as clear.

This îhesis will examine how one particular institution was affected by the war: the Church of England. The Church's role in the community has not been dealt with adequatety in social histories of Britain during the war, mostly because the generally accepted view has been chat Britain was a "secularized" nation. More recent historical ünalysis. however, has begun to argue that religion, and the Church of England, continued to play a part in the modem, urban British community during the first haif of the twentieth century. Moreover, while religious institutions are often viewed solely as conveyors of religion, there is also a sense of social responsibility through which these institutions connect with, and contribute to, the rest of society;

balancing the two was an important debate for members of the Church of England because it was the established church in Britain. Because of a demh of secondary sources on this topic, the use of primary sources becomes important in order for this thesis to outline how the Church continued to interact with the community. A combination of both types of sources also reveals how religious belief shaped the Church's social purpose during the war years, despite the difficulty the Church had in balancing both responsibilities. At the same cime, the Church continued to be shaped by the war and its experiences with the community, thus resulting in a graduai shift from the more dogrnatic perspective of the interwar period to an emphasis on a more consecvative focus on the practical aspects of Christianity after the war ended. Acknowlednements This thesis could not have ken completed without the encouragement and contribution of a nuhrof people, a few of whom 1 would like to acknowledge here. First, 1 would like to thank the archivists at London Mettopolitan Archives, Lambeth Palace, and Mass Observation at the University of Sussex for their assistance in loçating the prirnary documents necessary to make this thesis effective. At Simon Fraser University, ihanks must go to our Graduate Secretary, Nancy Bumham, for assisting me in the logistics of putting this work togeiher. 1 would also like to thank my second supervisor, Professor Martin Kitchen, and my external examiner, Professor Joy Dixon, for their assistance and feedback during the exarnination process. From an academic standpoint, 1 am great indebted to my prirnary supervisor, Professor John Stubbs, for his encouragement io pursue this topic to the furthest degree, and for ailowing me the oppominity to research overseas. As well, his tireless effons in looking over every Mt of every chapter carefully and thoroughly helped me to becorne a better writer and historian in the process. There are a number of people at Simon Fraser University that desewe acknowledgement here, primady those in the graduate student body that served as my office mates, my classmates, my fellow TAS, and who listened to me when 1 had frustrations or problerns. Of ihese, a few deserve speciai credit for making my Mastes' an enjoyable experience (for the most piut): Christian Nielson, my "buddy" Ursula Gurney. James Rosenzweig, Sebastian Lukasik, and Greg Elliot. 1 wish them, and the others who are too numerous to mention. al1 the best in their future endeavors. 1 would also like to acknowledge the encouragement and support of those in my family: my parents, George and Martha Dochuk, my in-laws, John and Susan Borne; my brother and sister in-law, Darren and Debra Dochuk, and my sister and brother in-law, Mike and Tetyana Klassen, who, despite being halfway across the continent, provided encouragement thmugh emails, phone calls, and the occasional visit to Vancouver; and my brocher in-law and sister in- law, Gary and Robyn Borne, who saw the process more first hand. Lm,but cenainly not least, much of the credit for the completion of this thesis must go to my wife, lanelle, who endured a two-year adventure with endless support and encouragement. It is safe to say that this thesis could not have been achieved without her assistance, and 1 cannot express my gratitude to her enough in such a srnall space as this. TABLE OF CONTENTS .. Approval Page ...... ,...... II

Acknowledgements...... iv

Introduction ...... U ...... 1 Chapter One "A WORLD WHERE MAN IS AT WAR WITH COD AND WITH EACH 0THER9': THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND'S RELIGIOUS APPROACH TO THE SECOND WORLD WAR ...... 19 Chapter Two b'R13LIGIONIN ACTION": THE CHURCH AND THE WEST LONDON LOCAL COMMUNITY ...... 46 Chapter Three "ARTER THIS. .. WHAT?": THE CHURCH'S PREPARATION AND FOST-WAR REALITIES...... 74 Conclusion...... 99 IntrmIucîion

On 3 September 1939, Britain entend the second major war in a generation against the

Gennans. Unlike World War One, however, the reception of the news that Britain had declared war against the Nazis was anticipated, and therefore more subdued than ai the beginning of the

First. The reality of ihe disruption of another war was a prospect few looked forward to. Since the declaration of war by Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain occurred on a Sunday, many people in the community heard the news from the pulpit of their locd church. with the news followed by prayers and the first air raid waming of the war. For many other regular churchgoers, however, the news was received at home in front of the radio set; it was far too important a tirne to be at church. The symbolism of this first day of war with regard to religion is indicative of the prevailing relationship that the churches, including the Church of England, would have with the community over the next six years. The disruptions and challenges for the

Church were imbued in the very first day of the conflict, and would not cease until it finished in

1945.

The influence that the Second World War had upon British society has ken a source of

intense historicd discussion since 1945. The debate over the extent to which society changed during and because of the war. and, in particular, the effects it had on the local population is also central to any smdy of post-war ri tain.' In many ways the dismptions and obstacles encountered during the war years changed perceptions and triuiitional definitions of what

constituted a community. In many ways, however, the war dso signaled a desire for a return to

traditional ideas of British society after the uncertainty of the interwar period.

This thesis contributes to, and is framed by, this historical debate. The focus in this work

is on the physical and spiritual duties of the Church of England in London during the Second

World War. It involves an analysis of how much the Church contributed to the maintenance of

society, and to what degree it changed at the local community leve1 because of its own war

I For more on the framework of this historiographical discussion see Chapter Three of his thesis. experience. Throughout its histoq the Church of England has been an institution that has ken an essential part of the comrnunity in Britain. It has been both a religious center in the community as well as a cultural and social institution that has interacted with the public in more than

"religious" or theologicai ways. This has occurred despite the perception that "churches are primarily concerned with something nmwly defined as 'religion.' something which can be distinguished readily from other things which are 'really social' or 'really political."'2 As Jeffrey

Cox explains, 'The Church of England has always defied such distinctions and assumed responsibility for much more than the maintenance of public worship and the encouragement of private de~otion."~As a result of its status as the established church, the Church's spiritual and temporal efforts in the community were a product of its perceiveci role as Society's religious authority. Conversely, however, these efforts were also influenced and shaped by ideas inherent in British society regarding the cole of religion in the cornmunity.

The struggle to rnaintain a balance beiween the religious and the social has not ken without its problems for the Church of England in its relationship to the community. Because society is constantly changing and redefining itself, every institution musc do so as well in order to maintain relevancy. The cornmon historical approach to the Church in the twentieth century is chat it has not been able to adapt to the new conditions in industrialized Britain. As a resuli, the historical study of the Church in twentieih century British society has ken disrnissed as unnecessary. Few social histories of the war, more specifically, give much recognition to the fact that the Church still played an active role in the local comrnunity. This in tum rnakes it difficult to study such a topic without the extensive use of pnmary sources. In ment years some

'Jeffrey Cox, The English Churches in a Secular Sociery: Lumbeth. 1870-1930, (Oxford: Oirford University Press, 1982), 48. The ierm "Church of England", it should be noted, is used specifically in this papa to refer to the social and cultural responsibilitiesof the Church. This follows the distinction between "Church of England" and "Anglican" made by Edmund Cusick: 'The organization is referred to as the Church of England when considering its place in the constitution or life of the nation, and as the Anglican Church when iu spiritual or theological ikntity is at sîake." Edmund Cusick, "ReIigion and Hericage," MiStony and Peter Childs, eds. British Cultural identities, (London: Routiedge, 1997: 277-3 14), 285. Thmughout this ihesis, therefore, the tenn used will be 'The Chuich of EngIand or the "Church." ' Cox, English Churches, 48. historical works have been produced that have helped provide models by which such a study like this cm be stnictured. The two most notable studies have ken done by Jeffrey Cox and Sarah

Williams, but they are useful only as models because they are concerneci with the situation before the war! Adrian Hastings has also undertaken some study of the local, religious experience that covers a much larger time frime.' in addition, a recent work by A.J. Hoover has provided additional background to the Church's religious approaches to the warB6It has proved, however, to contain problems that make it difficult to apply.7 Earlier works, most notably by E.R. Norman,

Roger Lloyd and Alan Wilkinson, have addressed the larger intellectual problems of this time. especially in regards to the relationship between "religion" and society, but they do not deal to a great degree with the local experience. Other secondary litenture is either focused on a specific theme, such as pacifism or appeasernent, or covers a large time frarne, such as the entire twentieth century (or even more).' What is especially difficult is that the emphasis these works put on the more senior leaders of the Church, and the "big" ideas prevalent in these upper echelons, does not allow for an adequate discussion of how these ideas are applied in the parish. The discussion and analysis of ideas about the role of the Church in society among such leading clergy like William

Temple and G.K. Bell, and prominent hymen like T.S. Eliot, can be very different from the redity that the local clergyman faced in West London.

While there are specialized works on the topic of Church thought during the war, there has been even less work done to identify it as part of the general social history of the home front

4 Cox, English Churches, and Sarah Williams, Religious Belief and Popular Culture in Southwark c. 1880- 1939, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999). AdRan Hastings, A History of English Christianity 1920-1990,(London: SCM Press, 1991). A.J. Hoover, Cod, Britain and Hitler in World War Two: The View of the British Clergy 1939-1945, (London: Praeger, 1999). 'The most dificult part of Hoover's study is the grouping together of al1 religious denominations in Britain without identifying the differences between them. Consequently, when a member of the clergy is rnentioned, one is left with a sense of confusion over their affiliation with the greater context. This is noted by Wendy Dackson in her review of this book as well. Wendy Dackson, "God, Briuin, and Hitler in World War II (Book Review)," Journal of Church and State, 42 (no. 4, Autumn 2000). 861-2. Other examples, other than those already mentioned, include Stephen Spinks, Religion in Britain since 1900, (London: Andrew Dakers, 1952); John Wolffe, God and Greater Britain: Religion and National Life in Brirnin and Ireland 1843-1945, (London: Routledge, 1994); or Kenneth M. Wolffe, The Churches and the British Broadcasting Corporation 1922-1956, (London: SMPress, 1984). in London. This is an element of history which this thesis seeks to address? The reason for this neglect has been the assumption that the Church, and religion in general, no longer plays a significant role in the life of the community in the twentieth century, and is therefore nota subject of value. There are a number of reasons for this oversight, al1 of them bound up in the greater theory of secularization. Simply put, secularization is "the gradua1 deposition of religion from almost every structure and dimension of society except, perhaps, the most private and personal."'O

The most tangible evidence cited for the apparent secularization of Britain in the nineteenth and twentieth century is the decline in church attendance over this period. Since the mid nineteenth century, al1 churches in England have experienced a significant decline in the number of people who regularly attend weekly services. Ross McKibbin notes that "as a proportion of the total popuIation which they recruited, both the Anglican and Free Churches declined almost without interruption during the first haif of the twentieth century."" David Martin notes that this has additionally affected the number of people who associate themselves with a particular denomination. He further cornments that this most notably affected the Church of England because of the influence it had held in earlier centuries." As McKibbin funher argues, while sixty percent of the population still claimed adherence to the Church of England during the period

Alm Gilbert, for example, notes that, in regards to general histones of Bniain in the twentieth century, "major contributions such as A.J.P. Taylor's English Histoty 1914-1945, C.L. Mowat's Britain Benveen the Wars, W.N. Medlicott's Contemporaty England, or even A. Marwick's Britain in the Century of Tora1 War, for al1 its special attention to social aspect of the subject. have alrnost nothing to Say about religion; and none suggesis that the decline of religion need be adduced to explain anything sufficiently imponant to warrant inclusion in an overview of the twentieth ceniury." Alan Gilbert, The Making of Post-Christian Brirain: A History of the Secularization of Modem Society, (London: Longmans. 1980), 2. A. Marwick, Britain in the Century of Total War. (Boston: Little. Brown, 1968); W.N. Medlicott, Contemporary England 1914-1964. (London: Longrmui. 1976); C.L. Mowat. Britian Between the Wars. (London: Methuen, 1968); A.J.P. Taylor, English Histo~1914-1955. (Hmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1975). 'O Lawrence Bamann, "Confronting Seculiuîzation: Otigins of the London Society for the Study of Religion." Church History, (1993,62 (1): 22-40). 22. l1 Ross McKibbin, Classes and Cultures: England 1918-1951, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), 273. l2A full discussion of the statistics of decline cm be found in David Manin. A Sociology of English Religion. (New York: Basic Books, Inc, 1967). 34ff. 1918-1951, this is misleading because "many of those who claimed a nominal Anglicanisrn for instance, had no effective relationship with the ~hurch."'~

The decline in church attendance was particularly felt in the uhan centers of Briiain, most notably London. This has led to the second significant component of secularization theories: the detrimental effect urbanimtion has had on religion. Clive Field, for example, argues that "rnuch of the historiography of nineteenth and twentieth century British religion has been premised on the assumption that urbanizrttion has ken inirnical to religious belief, and more especially practice."lJ Callum Brown also points out that "[tlhe pluralism of the urban economy, the breakdown of social consensus and the disintegration of religious rnonopoly in leisure and thought spell disaster for the churches. in the traditional explanation, urbanization leads to the decline of re~igion."'~In addition, cities with denser populations have led to a more secular approach to philanthcopic activities, thereby disassociating the Church from its traditional role as care giver. The Church, it has been assumed, has never ken able to adapt to its changing role in this new en~ironment.'~

The main argument regarding the theory of secularization, then, is that the Church, and

religion in general, is noi relevant to the modem person because it is steeped in the past and

unable to adript to the new, modem Britain. The Church, as a traditional institution, is often

described as being unable to met the needs of a population that was affected by modemization in

the forrn of urban and industrial growih. E.R. Nonnan argues that the Churçh "never caught up

" McKibbin, Cfasses and Cultures, 273. The relrtionship between membership and association with the Church is discussed hiriher in Chapter Two of ihis thesis. '' Clive D. Field, "Faith in Ihe Metropolis: Opinion Polls and Christiuiity in Post-war London", The London Journal, (24 (1) 1999: 68-84), 68. l5 Callum G. Brown. The Mechanism of Religious Growih in Uban Societies: British Cities since the Eighteenth Century", Hugh McLeod, ed., Eurupan Religion in rhe Age of Grear Ciiies 1830-1930, (London: RoutIedge, 1995: 239-2621.239. l6~ohn Gay, for example, argues that the system of?emtorid org;urizaiion" (the parochial system) that the Church employed was designed for a primarily niml and agricultural population. Conseqwntiy, he argues, ''the process of indusirialimtion and urbanization, coupled with transformation of the cmtryside resulting hmthe disappearance of itie self-sufficient village, have rendered the old patterns of pastoral care obsolete." This, he argues, has resulied in "a graduai movement away from ihe centre of national and social iife" for the Church. John Gay, The Geogmphy of Religion in England, ((London: Duckwonh, 1971). 80. with the demographic and econornic transformation of the nineteenth century world.""

Moreover, the development of an intellectual "plurality" chat developed in Victorian Britain exacerbated these changes. This is especially tme if one argues chat "intekcnid~are thought to act as the vanguard of popular beliefs", causing a "filtering down" to the masses by the twentieth century." As a result of these processes, the Church appeared to have no cohesive approach to facing this newly defined community. This led to the decline of its influence for, as Robert

Cume, Alan Gilbert and Lee Horsley argue, "[ilf the Church is to get, keep and recruit from a constituency," they state, "it must have proximity to, congmity with, and utility for that constituen~~."'~

This is the basis of the theory of secularization, which has resulted in the neglect of the

study of religion in modern British society. While there are some merits to such a theory, the

inevitability of the decline of religion that it presupposes overshadows the reality of the

community in twentieth century Britain. First and foremost is the problem of the usage of

statistics. After a large, extensive census in 1851, there has been no thorough collection of

numbers relating to religion. As Currie, Gilbert and Horsley point out, there has been a lack of

consistent information in England on "how and why churches get, keep and lose their

mernber~."'~ This suggests a problem in the usage of such statistics that are available. In

addition, the problem of attendance is furthet hampered by the undermining of the relationship

between the Church and those who simply "associate" with the Church but are not regularly

involved in it. In a November 1937 Gallup Poll, for example, seventy-eight percent of

" E.R. Norman, Church and Sociefy 1770-1 970: A Historical Study, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976), 5. '' The idea of a Victorian plurality, and its effects on twentieth century Briiain, is argued by Cox, English Churches, 8. l9 Robert Che,Alan Gilbert, Lee Horsley, Churches and Churchgoers: Pattern of Church Growth in the British Mes since 1700, (Oxford: Clarendon Press. 1977). 7. " Cunie, Gilbert, Horsley, Churches and Churchgoers, 4. Gay dso notes that "tilt is difficuit to find accurate criteria which relate to the strength of the Church of England's influence. Mer the publication of the 185 1 Census results there was a dearth of diable information right up to the present decade. Gay, Geography oflleligion, 78. respondents still claimed to be "a member of a church."" These people, it has been recently argued, would still have recognized the importance of the Church as a social and cultural institution." in fact. such an affiliation would emphasize that particular responsibility of the

Church more than its spiritual role. For example, Field notes that "in 1960 sixty-one percent of

Londoners interviewed for Associated Rediffusion described religion as playing a very or rather important part in their ~ife."~Expanding on this observation, Stephen Spinks argues that "what appears from the statistical point of view to be a period of catastrophic decline, appears, when

viewed from the social and intellectual angle, to be a period wherein religion becarne more conspicuously interested in every-day affairs than at any tirne since the refor~nation."~~An explanation of secularization based on declining numbers, therefore, does not adequately explain

the various "dimensions of religiosity" and the role the Church and religion continued to have in

the life of the comrnunity."

The second major criticism of the theory of secularization is the assumption that

urbanization does not support institutionalized religion. While this is to some extent me,

scholars such as Field, Brown and McKibbin have questioned the rnerit of such an extreme view.

Brown argues that "recent decades have seen the slow but steady collection of evidence which, rit

the minimum, engenders niggling doubts about urbanization's inexorable capacity to secularize,

and which, ai the maximum, suggest that modem cities have been and remain venues for rapid

growth in religion."26 McKibbin also points out that "regular church attendance was much higher

in the South of England than in the North," mostly because of the higher rniddleçlass population

" In addition, Gallup polls found that in January 1939 sixty-eight percent attended a place of worship "regularly" or "occasionally." George H. Gallup, ed., The Gallup International Public Opinion Polis, Grear Brirain 1937-1975: Volume One 1937-1 964, (New York: Random House, 1976), 3, 13. Nonnan similady argues that even in 1960s Bntain an "astonishing" sixty percent of the population still claimed affiliation with the Church of England. He notes that ninety-five percent of the population ovedl holds some type of religious affiliation. Norman, Church and Society, 10. " McKibbin, Classes and Cultures, 290-291. See also Norman, Church and Society, 10. Field, "Faith in the Metropolis", 80. 24 Stephen Spinks, Religion in Brirain since 1900, (London: Andrew Dakers Ltd., 1952). 8. Gilbert. Cmie. and Horsley, Churches and Churchgoers. 19. 26 Brown. "Mechanism of Religious Growth", 239. A similu perspective is presented by Field, "Faith in the Metropolis", 80- 1. in the south? As a result a contmdiction arises in the theory of secularization: while clairning that the parochial systern is obmlete due to urbanization, it must dso acknowledge that there is a predominantly middle-class demographic within the Church which is pri~narilyurban in

The final criticism thai brings secularization into question is its notion that the Church has not ken susceptible to social change. This is perhaps the most crucial issue for thesis, as the war bas been synonyrnous with such ideas. However, this idea, too, ha been called somewhat into question by ment historiography. Addressing the idea that the Church had no social teaching and could not keep up with changing intellectual ideas, Nonnan argues that this is a

"distortion" of the complexities of the religious e~perience.~Cox further argues that this view, as a "top down" idea, is based on a "simplistic view of social change" by implying that the general public automaticaily accepts al1 ideas that ociginate from intel~ectuals.'~ While the

Church's responsibilities as a religious institution were paramount to its role in the community, it was willing to adapt to changing conditions in Society. Moreover, as the established church, it can be argued that the Church's social policy cannot, despite its wishes, be completely separated from the social developments of the rest of the community. As Norman points out, "the social attitudes of the church have derived from the surrounding intellectual and political culture and not, as churchmen themselves always seem to assume, from theological ~earnin~."~~E.L.

Mascall, an Angfcan theologian active during the war, similarly recognized this codependency in the post-war era: "Christians thernselves, however well instmcted and thoughtful they may be, inevitably share in the intellectual climate and perspective of their tirne, even if they are conscious that it is, in one way or another, uncongeniai to their Christian beliefs."" Because of

" McKibbin, Ciasses und Cultures, 274. 'B Norman, Church and Sociery, 10. 29 Cox, English Churches, B. Nomian, Church and Society, 10. 3' E.L. Massail, The Secdarizaiion of Christiuniry: An Analy~isand Critique, (New York: Holt, Rhinchart and Winston, 1%5), 2. the Church of England's position as the established church, the intricacies of its interconnation with the community cannot be dismissed so readily.

What these criticisms suggest is a need to reevaiuate the Church's social role in the community. Acknowledging the problerns inherent in the theory of secularization does not eliminate it altogether. However, the connections between the Church and the community had

not disappeared to such an extent that Britain could be labeled a "post-Christian" society?* Yet the firm manner in which secularism is used to dismiss religion altogether needs CO be replaced with a more realistic analysis of the role of religion in Britain during the twentieth century. The

best explanation is the suggestion put forward by some authors that British society in the first half

of the twentieth century was becoming "dechristianized and that the role of the Church in

society was changing, but not disappearing a~to~ether.~'

The purpose of this study, then, is to view how these new ideas can be examined in the

content of the situation in London during World War Two. In order to understand the

complexities and challenges that the Church of England experienced during the war in London, a

bief overview of the Church's structure is needed. The Church of England is divided into two

provinces - York and Canterbury - which are presided over by the two Archbishops, the most

important being the Archbishop of Canterbury. The Archbishop does not hold finn power over

the Church, as the Pope does in the Roman Catholic Church. Rather he presides over a fairly

independent system, in which ideas are spread through General Church Conferences. These are

presided over by the Church House, which is split into two houses, the upper house consisting of

the Bishops, and a lower house which consists of local clergy and some laymen. The House ricts

much like a Parliament, accepting resolutions, including those on social policy, and deciding

-- - - '' Gilbert, The Making of Post-Christian Brituin, 4ff. 33 McKibbin. Classes and Cultures, 294. He further points out that "there was usudly a grey area between active worship and active disbelief where îhe majonty were probably to be found .... the real distinction was not between the religious and the unreligious but between active and passive Christians." McKibbin, Classes and Culrures, 289. The distinction belween de-Christianitation;uid Seculiuization is expounded in Edward Royte, Modem Britain: A Social Hisrory 1750-1985, (London: Edward Arnold, 1987), 338ff. whether or not to pass them to the parishes as "suggestions." The result is a system that laves the choices of social policy largely up to the local diocese, or even the local parish.3J

The independent style of goveming was especially feit in the Diocese of London. the most important diocese in England, becriuse of its location, its si=, and the fact that its leadership was often directly involved with al1 aspects of Church life. The Diocese at the outbreak of the war was comprised geographically of the area of Greater London north of the Thames River, encornpassing parts of the counties of London and Middlesex. In total, the Diocese contained

599 parishes, ranging across the spectrum frorn those ihrt were wealthy, as in the West of London, to those that were very pwr and located for the most part in the East ~nd.~'The influential position of the Diocese was also expressed in terrns of individual leadership, for the Bishop of

London, at this time Geoffrey Fisher, was traditionally the third most powerful figure in the

Church hierarchy, subordinate only to the two Archbishops.

Despite its importance, the Diocese of London was also perhaps one of, if not the most,

diverse and complicated dioceses in the nation for three distinct reasons. First, and most

important, was the presence of notable economic diversity. The Bishop and those in authority

were forced to ded with more wealthy parishes in the western half of the Diocese as well as the

poorer, working class parishes of the East End that had very different needs than thosc in the

West. Consequently, the Diocese was known to be one of the hardest to govem, even though its

Bishop held one of the more prestigious positions in the Church hierarchy. Coupled with the

economic disparity was the fact that the Diocese also embraced great diversity in belief, and was

notorious for king the home of ecclesiastical contro~ersies.~%e most vivid example of such

diversity was impaned by the Anglo-Catholics, who often created problems for those in power in

terms of doctrine, liturgy, and social pnctice. As Bishop Fisher's biographer, William Purcell,

1 am gnteful to Andrew Pike, an Anglican Minister, for providing a brief ovewiew of the Anglican

?%tics come hmCruc&f'ordBs Clericd Direetory. (London: Oxford U.versity Ras 194 1). U38. 36 William Purcell, Fisher ofhbeih: A Portrait From L$e, (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1969), 79. points out, "[tlhe Anglo-Catholic group had a very firm hold (in the Diocese). Its leaders were perfectly good in helping with the political administration of the diocese. But when it came to questions of doctrine, or the conduct of public worship, there was a fortress inside which no bishop was allowed."" The third issue that made the Diocese distinct was the presence of the political center of the United Kingdom within its boundaries. This resulted in the Diocese king forced to be fully aware of, and involved in, both local and national issues far more than any other diocese in the Church of England. As a result, those in charge of the Diocese, especially the

Bishop, faced a three-pronged chailenge: to corne to grips with the econornic disparity; to deal with the conflict in liturgy and practice; and to maintain contact with the political attitudes and practices of many different facets of British society. All three of these problems were, in mm, aggravated by the realities of the wartirne experience in London itself.

The most important figure in the Diocese of London during the war was Geoffrey Fisher who was appointed Bishop of London in the summer of 1939. The situation that confronted him as he assurned this role was daunting enough considering the above challenges, but it was made worse by the condition in which his predecessor, Arthur Foley Winnington-ingram, Bishop from

1901-1939, had left the diocese, Winnington-lngram, as Purcell observes, "had ken an outstanding character in his day: in terms of personal appeal and evangelistic power a very great bishop."" However, by the end of his tenure, it was clear that he lacked the administrative determination to maintain a sense of order within the Diocese and to adapt to the changing position of the Church of England in London. As a result, "the situation left by him was such as

to confront Fisher with acutely difficult problems frorn the ~tart."'~

Despite the fact he was relatively unknown, Geoffrey Fisher was an able replacement of

Winnington-ingram and, as a more than capable administntor, was able to handle the challenges

37 Purcell, Fisher, 94. j8 Purcell, Fisher, 80. 39 Purcell, Fisher, 80. of wartime on don.^" His correspondence also reveals the personal connection Fisher had with those on "the front line", the vicars and congregations of the local parishes?' Fisher was also a more consemative rnember of the Church's leadership, and preferred to emphasize the dities of the Church's social responsibilities rather than the philo~o~hical.'~Thus, his desire to bridge the gaps between the various groups within the Diocese during his tenure were rooted in his strong belief that the traditional. hierarchical fom of leadership present in the Church of England should not be undermined. Fisher's approach was, however, not entirely rigid, as he was also able to adapt during the war in order to maintain a close connection to the community.

Fisher's administrative capabilities were also recognized beyond the boundaries of the

Diocese, as he was involved in a number of cornmittees during the war. This is another indication of the powerful position that the Bishop of London held, for he was not only known and respected in the community of London, but in the Houses of Parliament. and at Lambeth

Palace, the headquarters of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Fisher's connection with these various institutions, and the community, allowed for a sense of unity in policy that can assist such a study

as this. Perhaps Fisher's most important role during his tirne in London was as the head of the

Bishops War Cornmittee, set up by the Bishops to oversee the workings of the Church of England

" Very little has been written on Fisher, even though he was to become the Archbishop of Canterbury in 1945. The only work, alrcady referenced, that is of any value is Purcell's biography. In this book, Purcell notes that, despite his abilities. Fisher did not want to leave Chester to become Bishop of London because of the inherent problerns that Diocese faced. Nevertheless. he felt it was his duty to do so. Purcell, Fisher, 79. ". Evidence of this can be found in letters written from local parîshes in West London to Fisher upon his appointment as Archbishop of Canterbury in January 1945. One such letter, from the Vicar of Si. Luke's, Chelsea, acknowledged thai "1 shall ever be gmteful to you my Lord, for your kindly interest in the work here and the confidence you have shown in me." Vicar of St. Luke's to Fisher, January 1945, Fisher Papers, Lambeth Palace Library, London (henceforth LPL). A similar view was shared by the Vicar of Islingron: "[wje of the rank and file clergy have warmly appreciated your Lordship's gifts of leadership and adminisaaiion. but &O, and very specially, of your unfailing friendliness and courtesy.. ..te have felt that you understand our point of view, and indeed that you shiwed in a considerable degree our distinctive convictions." Vicar of Islington to Fisher, January 1945, Fisher Papers, LPL. " Paul Welsby notes that Fisher "brought order out of administrative chaos. spending much time in dmwing up rules and regdations which were duly presented to each clergyman ....Others might concern themselves wih national issues and world affairs; Fisher devoted his energies to the particular job that he was called CO do." Paul A. Welsby, A Histoty of the Clturch of England 1945-1980, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1984), 9. during the war. It dealt with such crucial issues as war damage to buildings, maintenance of the parochial system, and acted as a liaison with the govemment departments administering the war effort in a ri tain." This was just one of the mycornmittees and councils in which Fisher played a prominent role.

While Fisher encouraged the maintenance of a more traditional administrative structure

in the Diocese, there was still diversity in parish experiences and practices. This wris intensified

in London by the various types of parishes situated there. Such a localizing effect was especially felt when combined with the individualistic nature of the war experience. The war experience in

London from 1939-1945 wiis not uniiorrn in any way. In fact, the pervasive therne throughout

social histories of Britain during this time is the problem of attempting to identiiy comrnon characteristics in the public's experiences. Before the war, and most notably the Blitz, occurred

no one, in the Church or the rest of Britain, could really accurately ascertain the effects of this

new style of warfare on the comrnunity. And those drarnatic predictions about the effect of

bombing on London that were made in the pre-war context were grounded in inaccunte statistics

or predisposed assumptions about how the public would re~~ond.~The experiences of the Blitz

were therefore marked by diversity and variety rather chan uniformity.

Thus, no amount of organization could address the entire cornmunity's experiences in

London. Some parishes in London were hit especially hard, while others, even those bordering

these, were barely touched. As Fisher observed:

[tlhis Diocese is unequaily affected by war damage and disturbance. Though there is scarcely a parish which has not had its share of dislocation, suffering, wounds and scars, yet there is great difference

"3~ishop'sWar Cornmittee Minutes, various entries noting Fisher as head, Fulham Papers, LPL. %e fear that, as Consecvative party leader Stanley Bddwin proclaimed in 1935, "the bomber will always get through," was fairly widespread. and led to extreme assessments of the effect of mass bombing. One such example was the perspective of Lbow leader Clernent AUlee, who surmised that "another world war will mean the end of civiiimtion." Using data from a relatively minor German air raid on London in July 1917, it was estimated that one massive raid of 350tons would pmduce 175,000 cmualties, at a nie of fifty casualties per ton. In realiiy, the figure of 175,000 was four times the actual number of casudties incurred in the entire ten month span of the Blitz. Tom Hmisson. Living Through the Blin. (London: Collins, 1976), 23-24. between parishes in the outer parts which opetate almost normally with hl1 life and activity and full churches, and those in inner London wherc evacuation, dislocation and destruction are at their highest.JS

This mates the need to define an even more specific setting in which to view the

Church's relationship to the community. The focus of this thesis will be limited to west, and northwest London, defined for the purposes of this paper as the ôoroughs of Chelsea, Kensington,

St. John's Wood and hddington.16 To help explain this local situation better, the use of pcimary sources musc be emphasized. Even wiihin these areas, however, because each parish had a different experience, it is necessary to Iimit oneself to a specific focus on four parishes in the area, with primary sources from other parishes complimenting the study. The parishes in question - St Mary the Bolton's; Holy Triniiy, Chelsea; St. John's Wood; and Christ Church,

Lancaster Gate - were al1 parishes of a simila size and sirnilar nature." Each had an average

population of W, with the church having an average rnembership of around 200.4 All of these

parishes were individunlly wealthy before the war, and were key contributors to the London

Diocesan Fund, which provided assistance to less well off parishes.* ù would also appear that

the general rnembership of these parishes were middle class. who still supponed the benefits of

General Leiter from Bishop Fisher to members of the Diocese of London in The iundon Diocesan Leaflet, July 1941. London Metropditan Archives, London (henceforth LMA). 46 or the purposes of this thesis. and to avoid confusion, the term 'west London' will be used IO describe the iuea defined in this introduction. "'St. John's Wood pnsh was acturtlly ihe administrative cenier for three different parishes during the wu: St. Stephen's, Christ Church, and SL Marks. While it was technically a "chape1 of case", these three parishes were essentidly being run by those ai St. John's Wood, most notably O.H.Gibbs-Smith and J.W. GriffithS. tt was not until after the war was over hat this area was amaigmted into Si. John's Wd arish. Crockfurd's CIerical Directory, 1758. Also indicated by St. John's Wood Parish Records, LMA. 'kts about the individual parishes can be found in London Diocesan Book 1W0,(London: Church of England. 1941). Holy Trinity, Chelsea. for example, encompassed an area with a population of 6053,while St. Mary ihe Bolton's a population of 5860. Christ Church, Lancaster Gate covered a somewhat larger ma, with a population of 7575. London Diocesan Book. 1940,34ff. The Vicar of Christ Church, Laacaster Gate. for empte, noted that in 1942 the parish gave oves f7ûû 10 the Fund, placing them among the top three contributors to the Fund throughout the Diocese. Holy Trïnity, Chelsea was noted as also king one of the top three. Chnst Church, Lancaster Gate Parish Magazine, January 1943, LMA. Chnst Church acwally gained a reputacion in the laie nineteenth and eariy twenueth century as being quite a wealthy church. As The London Encyclopedia notes: "Many of the Parishioners were wealthy and for many yem on Hospital Sunday over f 1000 w;is collected ai matins: Christ Church conseqwndy became known as 'the Thousand Pound church."' Ben Weinreh and Christopher Hibbert, eds.. The LDndon Encyclopedia, (London: Macmillan, 1995). 160. religious a~sociation.~~Each parish dso appeared to be of a more traditional "high" church nature, which stressed a more stmctured style of worship and practice, and also suggests an

Anglo-Catholic leaning.

Another conunon characteristic of the parishes in question was that each of the vicars in these parishes were also more senior, many of them holding other positions within the Church of

England infrastructure. The Vicar of Christ Church, Lancaster Gate, for example, was Richard

Beresford-Peirse, who was also Rural Dean of Kensington and Prebendary of "Portpool in St.

Paul's Cathedral." He was also head of the committee that adrninistered the London Diocesan

Fund, sût on the executive committee for the Diocese of London, and was a member of the War

Damages Cornmittee during the The Vicar of Holy Trinity, Chelsea, Christopher Cheshire, was also well established, serving as the Honorary Chaplain to the Archbishop of York from

1928, and as the Rural Dean of Chelsea from 1932." In addition, the background of these Vicars indicated a strong upper class background that made them well suited for these parishes.

Cheshire, for example, was educated at St. John's College, Oxford (as was the Vicar of St. Mary the Bolton's, George Bosworth), while Beresford-Peirse obtained his education at Trinity

Callege, ~xford.~~These sirniluhies in education would ultimtely lead to similar interpretations concerning the role of the parish in the local community.

The definition of the community in which these parishes were located needs to be addressed. In such urban settings, it is difficult to set absolute parochial boundiuies. Therefore,

McKibbin argues, for example, that "church membership, broadly speaking, correlateci closely with social class: the higher the class the higher the church attendance." McKibbin, Classes and Cultures, 275. It should also be noted that none of these areas, in particulv Chelsea and Paddington, were wholly middle- class. However, the common characteristics of these parishes in those boroughs indicate that they were primiuily middle-class, and ministered to a very local community that was also middle-class. The similarities mentioned above also indicate the connection between these parishes and those such as St. John's Wood, which was in a slightly different geopphical location in Greater London. '' Christ Chwch, Lancaster Gate Parish Magazine. May 1941, LMA. Data also cornes kom Cruc~ord's Clerical Direcrory, 102. 5;! Crocsford's Clerical Direcrory, 235. " Crockford's Clericol Direcrory, 134, 102,235. In addition to being educated at such institutions at Oxford, these Vicars also had ties to the upper classes in other ways. Beresford-Peirse, for example, was married to the thii daughter of the Ead of Cawdor. Who's Who, (London: A. & C. Black, 1942). the focus must be on a broader definition of the "parish" comrnunity. unlike the more particular nird emphasis, encouraging more cooperation with other parish churches. What results is two levels of community: first. there is the very localized experience in which the parish chmh deals with thosa in the immediate vicinity, including both members and non-members. This is where the localized difference in experience cornes to the forefront. Second, however, is the more general interactive relationship with the greater borough community Chat spanned a nurnber of parishes. As the Rural Dean of Kensington, Cor example, Vicar Beresford-Peirse of Christ

Church, Lmcitster Gate was in touch with other vicars from surcounding parishes. As has ken also noted, the parish of St. John's Wood was technically three parishes drawn into one administrative center, which allowed the activities of the Church in a larger ma to be coordinated; this, consequently, allowed the Church to overcome some of the localizing nature of the parochial systern. The implication for this smdy is that it is therefore possible to suggest broader conclusions about the state of the Church in parts of West London.

Findly, in regards to the choice of parishes examined, the presence of a wide range of parish experiences among those discussed here is important because it provides for a diversity of examples. SI. Mary the Bolton's represents an example of the extrernely destructive nature of the wuexperience; it was to lose most of its buildings, its congregation, and its entire clergy for most of the wu. Consequently, its experiences were centered upon the simple need to survive and to work much more outside the triditional parochiai framework. Si. John's Wood represents the opposite end of the spectrum. While chere was some upheaval in the community, very little darnage was done to the buildings, the vicar remained throughout the war (despite bad health) and the congregation remained relatively strong. As a result, its focus was on ministering and assisting the community within a more uaditionai framework. These differences also had implications for the pst-war Church as well. Such a spectrum of parochial expenences allows one to identify general characteristics of the experience of the parish during the war in West

London. The stmcture of this thesis is reflective of the predominant themes and relationships examined below. Such an approach also utilizes the chronological progression of the changing relationship between the Church of England parish and the local, West London cornmunity. The first chapter deals with the period from the beginning of the war in September 1939 - ;ifter establishing the interwar context - to the evacuation of Dunkirk in May and June 1940. Very little actual militiu-y activity occurred during this tirne, giving the comrnunity time to comprehend the realities and significance of the wu. The major focus during this period was thus on the religious aspects of war and the need (on both the Church's and govemment's part) to justify the war on religious and moral grounds. It was felt that if the war could be justified on religious grounds. there would be a greater contribution to Britiiin's war effort from the people of the nation. The initial emphasis on the religious is also reflective of the orthodox nature of the Church in the interwar period as it focused more on theological and theoretical issues than on its physical contribution to the community.

Once the religious idras about the war have ken established, it is necessary in Chapter

Two to analyze how they manifested themselves in the activities of the parish church. This is where much of the primary material cornes into focus, for the themes of this chapter are the rnost overlooked in social histones of the war. Because those in the Church firmly believed in the war cause, they did everything they could - despite their own difficulties and the long tem implications - to contribute in some way to the maintenance of the comrnunity. This included efforts from both the clergy and the congregations, as well as yielding what was traditionally sacred space and tirne (the church structure and the traditional Sunday) to the secular pressures of the state. The short-term difficulties had longer term implications for both the Church and the rest of British society, and this is the focus of the thud chapter. The piuish church suffered from the war, and in many ways was forced to make changes to its infrastructure, most notably in its administration of education and in parachial reorganization. However, many of these changes paralleled changes in the rest of the society, and represented a return to the more vaditional definitions of the Church's role as upholding a more pragmatic style of Christianity within the community. This, in turn, reinforced traditional ideas of Englishness that were king emphasized within the entire community.

The main purpose of this thesis, then, is to contribute to the greater histoncal study of

British society, and in particular London, during a challenging time in the twentieth cenniry.

Despite views that the Church of England, as a traditional institution, was unable to adapt to social change brought about by modernization, recent criticisrns have noted the influence religious institutions still had on shaping community in London ai this time. Conversely, the shape of British society has largely influenced the social role of the Church as well. in many ways, it could be argued that the Church was more of a social institution than it was a religious one in terms of its importance to the social frarnework of British society. The issue is then one of ascertaining how this relationship progressed over the war years, and how the emphasis on social responsibility evolved during this period. Chanter One: ''A World wbere Man is at war with God and 4th eaa oîher": The Chu- of Endand's ReiiPloius Ap~rop~hto the Second Wodd War

On 3 Sepiember 1939, Britain declared war on Nazi Germany, marking the beginning of the Second World War for the British. in the concluding remarks of his broadcast speech announcing the declaration of war, hrne Minister Neville Chamberlain declared, "now may Gd bless you al1 and may He &fend the right. For it is evil things that we shall fight against. bmte force, bad faith, injustice, oppression and petsecution."' [II British Church society the war was viewed in a similar fadiion. 'The thing we feiued has corne," one parish magazine stated, "the stonn that has threatened us for years has broken. The forces of evil have been unleashed. We are once again in a world where we shall see human nature reveaied ai its worst and at its best."'

From the very beginning it was apparent that members of the Church of England, from senior leadership to local clergymen, considered the war to be more than just a battle of material dimensions. It was also a deeper spiritual and mord struggle between right and wrong. Arnong churchmen in London, in particular, there was an increased perception that the Nazi aggression

was a threat to the very ideals that British society was based upon: a belief in Christian morality that granted the cornmunity religious freedom and, consequently, the liberty to live without undue

interference in their [ives. While the focus was on the external threat 10 Britain, there was also an

increased awareness among Church of Englmd leaders that the war was aiso caused by the sinful

nature of al1 mankind, including Britain. As a result the war was interpreted in a dual manner in

Church of England circles: it was both a stmggle against the evil, Nazi aggression, but was also a

stniggle against problems that were increasingly visible in British society which were the result of

a society drifting away from religious belief and solid mords. While these two views appear to

be in direct contradiction with each other. both views were frequently combined to create a

singular interpretation of the causes, and effects of, the war. Church of England leaders, clergy

' Quoted in Harold Macmillan, The Blasi of Wac 1939-45. (New York: Harper and Row, 1%8), 3. 'Mass-Obsewation Archive: TC Religion, 2/D, PivÏsh Magazines, March 1940. and congregations felt that the priority in the wac effort was for British society to reestablish its

Christian roots and moral uprightness. This would, in tum, lead to a more efficient and effective national effort that would be able to defeat the Nazis, the ultimate manifestation of secular evils, on both the temporal and spiritual level.

For most of the senior Church leaders the evolution of beliefs about how the Church wouid define the war, and its own role in British society during those years, stemmed from the challenges to its theology throughout the interwar period. in particular, the study of the state of rnankind and whether human nature could influence its own spiritual, and consequently social, evolution underwent a change that affected the Church's traditional roles in ~n~land.~

Throughout the 1920s the preaching and writings of church members still revolved around the concept of liberal Protestantism, which had its roots in the nineteenth century and had managed to survive the war. Such libed views emphasized a more optimistic view of society, as man was portrayed to have a closer connection to God. It supported "a confidence in the power of hurnan reason guided by experience; a belief in freedom; ri belief in the social nature of human existence; and a faith in the benevolence of God and the goodness of crea~ion.'~Such belief also called for the establishment of the Kingdom of God on earth, for it was within man's rational sensibilities to accomplish such a feat.' Such an affirmative view of humnature, coupled with the desire to see society improve, led therefore to a greater emphasis on the social application of the gospel through practical means. Religious leaders argued that it was within mankind's power to improve the quality of life on earth through the existing system, and it therefore became necessary to put every effort into the improvement of social conditions for al1 classes in Britain.

' It must be noted that the theological debates mentioned here are limited in scope to how they applied to the Church of England's views of the war ûnd their subsequent application in the comrnunity. Thece were many other. more complicated, theoiogical debaies thai are not mentioned here for they do not apply Io this topic. 4 "Liberai Protestantism," in Hexham 's Concise Dictionary of Religion, http:/letext.virgini;i.edUletcbin/otî Kenneth C. Barnes, Natism, Liberalism and Christianity.-Protestant Social Thought in Gemzyand Great Britain 1925-1937, (Lexington, Ky: University of Kentucky Press, 199 1). 16. See aiso Horton Religious belief is constantly related to, and in rnany ways a product of, the historical context in which it is produced. Such a relationship was evident in the interwar period, as the tension resulting from the events of the interwar period influenced the way that senior leaders and the clergy in London responded to the war in 1939. With constantly new and developing problems to face during this period, such as the lingering impact of World War 1 and the

Depression, a new approach to religious thinking began to influence Church of England members

- both laymen and clergy - and ultirnately led them to rethink their position on the state of British society. These challenges to traditional, Edwardian theology were in large part a result of the devastating effects of World War 1, and ran parallel to the nse of war memoirs and anti-war literature that was popular in the late 1920s. The Church was also forced to corne to terms with the unqualified patrioiism that it showed at the beginning of the First War as the horrors of that experience came to ligk6 It twk some time for the people who had experienced the Great War to determine the impact of such a disaster on their psyche, including religious belief; thus it was not until the end of the 1920s that a more pessimistic view began to dominate the previously more positive view of the state of rnankind and society as a whole. These challenges originated from the continent, in particular Germany, and found their way to England through developing ecumenical channels.

At the forefront of this new approach were the beliefs of the Gennan theologian Karl

Barth, who presented a new approach to religious thought labeled "the theology of crisis".'

Davies, Worship and Theology in England, Volume V: The Ecumenical Century, (Cambridge, UK: William B. Eerdmans, 1996), 176. Keith Robbins, "Britain, 1940 and 'Christian Civilization," in D. Beales and G. Best ed., Hisrory, Society and the Churches: Essays in Honor of Owen Cl~adwick,(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985: 279-300), 287. Stephen Spinks also argues that the criticisms of the Church's pairiotic enthusiasm for the First World War can also be tnced IO iheir support for the Boer War and its jingoistic qualities. Thus, the need to re-evaluate the Church's position of the Church in 1939 was even more complicated and deep rooted. Stephen Spinks, Religion in Britain since 1900, (London: Andrew Dakers Ltd., t952), lûûff. As a result of the war, Adrian Hastings argues, "there was at the starî of the Second World War a marked restraint on the side of English clencs. The cmading fever so characteristic of the mdof 1914 was almost wholly absent." Adrian Hastings, A History of EngIish Christianiry 1920-1990, (London: SCM Ress, 1991). 383. ' Davies, Worrhip and Theology in England, 178. Barth's view of society rejected the notion that the Kingdom of God on Earth - established through the inherent, benevolent nature of mankind - could t~lybe achieved. There was simply too great a gap between God and an extremely sinful mankind. For more liberal thinkers. Barth's ideas were "perplexing", for he denied that "we can know the nature of God by starting with man's psychic or historical e~~erience."~There was, in Barth's view, no "direct continuity between the divine and the human," and thus "the Divine revelation was not accommodating, nor superficially comforting, but cruelly critical of m's egotismn? Such an emphasis on the sinfulness of man necessarily presented a more negative view of society at large, for society - as an assembly of humans - could not be based on a more positive, benevolent plane; nor, as a result, could it improve its own social condition^.'^ Organized institutional Christianity, Barth argued, "is aware that it is in no wise the crown and fulfillment of true humanity; it knows itself rather to be a questionable, disturbing, dangerous thing."I1 As a result, Christian belief could not have any viable impact on the social and political spheres of society, for they were completely disassociated from belief, and were therefore incapable of king significantly improved.

Such a negative view of religion and society had a relatively lirnited impact directly on

British institutions such as the Church of England. Horton Davies points out that "Barth's theology did not receive an inunediate welcome, and his impact on English theology was never widespread."I2 Church of England theology, as Alan Wilkinson argues, "by its very nature and history, was unlikely to be hospitable to Barth's theo~o~~."'~The reason for this, perhaps, was

the unique relationship the Church of England had with the political sphere of British society; this

J. Livingston, "An Introduction to Karl Barth". www.fàithquest.comltheologi;1ns/barthlindex.hl.5. Further discussion of Barth's views of the politicai role oFChristianity in society, in particular the Weim Republic. cm be found in Martin Kitchen, "Kriri Barth and the Weimar Republic," The Downside Review (Ju~Y1991: 183-201). 'J. Livingston, "An Introduction to Karl Barth," www.faithquest.comliheologimslb~ind~,5. Also uoted From Davies, Worship and nieology in England, 177. 'Davies. Worship and TheoIogy in EngIund, 178. Quoted in Davies, Worship and Theology in England, 177. l2 Davies, Worship and Theology in Engtànd, 178. l3 Alan Wilkinson, Dissent or Conform? War, Peace adthe English Churches 1900-1945, (London: SCM Press, 1986). 200. would make any belief in a complete division of Church and state difficult to accept.IJ However, this does not mean that Barth - and those on the continent who supported such views - had no impact on religious perspectives on the relationship between Church and state in Bntain.

Wilkinson puts it best by observing that while "very few Anglicans were interested in Barth's theology as such.. .my[churchmen] underwent a theological and religious ~hock."'~This more pessimistic view challenged the more traditional, and often assumed, theological positions

recognized by the Church of England, which, in tum, created a dialectical tension within its

circles. Coupled with the historical context of the Great War and an economic downturn, such

tension was beneficial in theological discussion, for it forced the Church to confront important

questions about the state and direction of British saciety, and its role in that society.I6 "Liberal

optimism" in the Church, as Wilkinson labels it, did not transform into a wholly negative and

pessimistic perspective - as it did on the continent - but was at best reduced to a tempered

optimism about the present and future course of society. Organized Christianity could play a role

in British society, as a critic that operated both in the traditional mnner, as a part of the existing

framework, as well as outside it by recognizing the need to radically alter its structure.

The result of this dichotomy was that Church of England churchmen -bath senior leaders

and local and clergy - did incorporate both new and old perspectives into a more conciliatory

view in the 1930s. While Anglican theologians and clergy leaned more towards the "supportive"

approach to the debate, they were more realist in tone than pre-World War One theologians ever

were. A good example of the presence of such a position in Britain was evident in the

widespread appeal of the ideas of Reinhold Niebuhr, an American cleric who supported many of

Barth's ideas without taking them to their ultimately negative extremes. Niebuhr was one of the

14 There were discussions concerning disestablishment during the interwar period. most notably afier Parliament turned down a proposal to revise the Anglican Prayer Book in 1928. G.I.T. Machin. "Parliament, the Church of England, and the hyerBook Crisis, 1927-8," Parliamentary History (2M)O. 1911): 131-147). '' Wilkinson, Dissent or Conform, 201. l6 J. Livingston. "An Introduction to Karl Barth," 5. first to make a distinction between the sinfulness of some societies over others, as manifested in his arguments about Nazism. He argued, as Wilkinson demonstrates, that "it is part of the function of Christianity to deflate moral pretensions and to keep before the human race the sharp and disturbing polarities of human existence: man is suspended between glory and wretchedness, between freedom and limitation."" Such a position would become important in shaping the views of the Second World War as a battle of moral good against absolute evil.

The most prominent indication of the end of a more liberally optimistic view was a noticeable shift in many Church leaders' approach to dealing with problems in society. Such a dialectic as the one mentioned above exacerbated the already existing "basic tension within

Christianity itself, Chat is between accepting and legitimating the existing order, or rejecting it."'8

Those who were members of the Church of England - with its direct connections to the rest of society - particularly struggled to move away from the traditional position, which "assumed an

harmonious relationship between Church and Society rather thm one of oppo~ition,"'~to a

position of social criticism. An emphasis on social criticism leaned more towards the argument

that to achieve any sense of the "Kingdom of God on earth, the system musc change, and

therefore must be approached from "the out~ide".'~A renewed emphasis on social criticism

resulted in, for example, the prominence of Christian Socialists like William Temple, the future

Archbishop of Canterbury. Such socially critical groups, however, still adhered to a more

positive view of society in the sense chat British society rnight be going in the wrong direction but

that it was still within man's power to change chat direction?' It was also possible for Church

leaders to cake this type of attitude further because of the changing status of the Church in its

------

l7 Wilkinson, Dissent or Conform, 207. la Elizabeth Spencer. "From Mord Welfare to Social Responsibility: Organisationid md Ideological Change in the Church," in The Annuul Review of the Social Sciences of Religion, Volume SÙ, (New York: Mouton Publishing, 1982: 79-106), 83. l9 Spencer, "From Moral Welfare to Social Responsibility," 85. " Barnes, Nazism, Libemlism, and Christianity, 17- 18. " For more on this pupsee, in pa~icular,Alan Wilkinson, Christian Socialism: Scott Holland to Tony Blair. (London: SCM Ress, 1998). relationship with the cest of society. Secularism argues that the Church was so far removed and out of touch with British society that it was rendered insignificant and, while this has been shown to not entirely be the case, it was true that the influence of the Chwch had waned. However, it can be atgued that this was a positive step for the Church, because it could now take a more removed and less cautious approach to responding to the moral implications to society of events such as the war. The Church - iuid the clergy - was thus able to approach the problerns of society with a more redistic and critical view, which, in mm, allowed them to play a more effective role in the improvement of British society."

The desire to prevent the tngedy of the First World Wiw €rom repeating itself mentioned above also led rnost Church of England clergy to support the policy of appeasement in the interwar period. The main driving force behind such suppori was the judgment mde by many of hem that the Treaty of Versailles was both "immoral and unChristian"; this conveyed a suang sense that such an opinion was "centered upon mord rather than political or strategic c~nsiderations."~At the center of this criticism wis a cal1 for the repudidon of the war guilt cause, which was considered "morally a task of paramount importance."" The apparent moral indecency of the Treaty thus led to an almost overwhelrning support for appeasement early on among clergy and congregations aiike. As Wilkinson notes, "to most people of the Christian tradition appeasement seemed the embodiment of the gospel - penitence for past sins by the allies and the offer of reconciliation and forgiveness to the outcast.""

Catherine Cline ais0 points out that new perspectives were provided by a "large turnover on the bench of bishops" during the 1920s. This Ied to the development oia generaiional difference on such perspectives as the Church's role in socieiy and the effets of World War I. Most prominent among this younger group were William Temple d George Bell, who were io play a large mle in the Church throughout World War il. Catherine Ann Cline, "Ecumenism and Appeasement: The Bishops of the Church of England and the Treaty of Versailles," Journal of Modem History, (6 t ,December 1989: 683-703), 688. Cline, "Ecumenism and Appeasement," 683. Such a view was also fuelled, once again, by direct pressure lrom German Christian leaders, Iike Barth, upon Church of England leaders like Bishop George Bell, through the connections made by the ecumenical movement of the interwar period. Cline, "Ecumenism and Appeasement," 69 1. '5 Wiikinson, Dimtor Confonn, 139. Although the Church of England in the interwar pend supported appeasement under the auspices of a Christian pacifist view, it must be noted that such a reference to pacifism does not necessarily equate with what is considered pacifism today. Martin Ceadai, in his work about interwar pacifism, explains that only radicd pacifism adhered to a policy of "non-resistance"; traditional pacifism, or "pacificism" as he labels it, saw "the prevention of war as its main duty and accepts that, however upsetting to the purist's conscience, the controlled use of mdforce may be necessary to achieve thi~."~~TO establish this definition of pacifism as the manner in which Church leaders perceived it, is crucial to any understanding of how the Church could move from support for appeasement to support for the war. In an article published in The Times conceming Temple's view on the impending Sudeten Crisis in 1938, he was quoted as stating that

"[tlhere are, as it seems to me, two methods open to the Christian citizen and statesrnan. One is the method of complete pacifism ....for this 1 have a profound respect, though 1 think it is

mistaken. if it is proposed as a fundamental principle 1 think it rests on defective heotogy.""

E.L. Mascall, writing in the journal Theology a few months later, argued thai most Chriscians

were not, in fact, absolute pacifists, for "many who think themselves absolute pacifists are

probably relative ~nes."'~

The conciliatory position concerning the role of religion in society that the Church of

England presented also meant that "pacificism" was quite compatible with such a belief structure.

Ceadai points out that, overall, "'pacificism' flourished in inter-war Britain because of its

prevailing blend of nineteenth century optimism and twentieth century pessi~nism."~~The

Church's "pacificistic" support for the policy of appeasement was further strengthened by ihe

notion that the ultimate goal of such beliefs "has ken to build bridges between utopian thinking

and effective action in the world as it is." "Pacificism", thereforc, provided the Church of

" Martin Ceadai, Pacifism in Britain 1914-1945: The Defining of a Faith, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1980), 4-5. The Tintes. 3 Iune 1938, p. 15. EL. Mascall, 'The Christian and the Next War." Theology (January 1939: 53-58), 56. England with the opportunity to find ways to occupy a religious position that was both critical and supportive of interwar British society, and to rnake religious thought more relevant in the political sphemJO

The desire to avoid the hardship of war and achieve a total peace, which manifested itself through the condemnation of the Treaty of Versailles, continued through the difficult years leading up to the war. Alan Wilkinson points out that "in the inter-war period Christian leaders often reiterated the message that CO-operationrather than competition, arbitration rather than conflict, were to be the guiding principles in international and industrial affair~."~'The desire to see peace at any pnce sometimes even came at the risk of an apparent contradiction of their own moral beliefs; such was the case with the Church's view of the Czech Crisis of 1938. Che points out that "when the issue of the Sudetenland began to loom. ..churchmen attempted to find a moral basis for furiher concession^."^^ Some, such as Temple hirnself, went one step further and proclaimed in an interview published in The Times, "[tlhere is a strong moral case to be made for the avoidance of wiu even at great cost - even at great moral co~t."-'~In essence the "pacificistic" desire to preserve peace outweighed the reasons for going to war; if there was to be a war, they argued, it rnust be over more than a country in Eastern Europe. Archbishop Lang, in a speech in the House of Lords, emphasized "it was incredible that the world should go to war over events in

------

'9 Cedal, Pacifsm in Britain. 6. 30 James Hinton, Protests and Visions: Peace Politics in Twentieth Century Bniain, (London: Huichinson Ress, 1989), x. Facifism in the sense of compleie non-tesistance was not institutionally connected to the Church of England. Wilkinson points out that such strong beliefs were often mtters of "individuid dissent"; and while there those who did support more radical forms of pacifism in the Church of England circles, they were often not those in positions of prominence. The leaders and clergy of the Church of England did not necessarily condemn those who believed this, but as war came they came to view these individuais as insunicient contributors to the national cause. It should also be noted that because of the rather eclectic structure of the Church that made it possible for differing opinions to exist within Church circles, it was possible for such beliefs to be present and even preached from the pulpit. Generally, however, he view of the leaders, and clergy, of the Church was "pacificistic", manifested most vividly by a support for appeasement. Wilkinson, Dissent or Conform, 128. -''Wilkinson, Dissent or Conform, 140. 32 Che, "Ecumenisrn and Appeasement," 700. 33 The %es 23 September 1938. 14. a 'small district of ~urope."'~"Peace, after dl, was their goal," Cline surmises, "and their contacts with the German church had persuaded them that there would be no peace until Gem demands were met."3s When Chamberlain retumed from Munich with an agreement with Hitler in hand, therefore, the reaction among Church leaders was one of thankfuiness. However, when the agreement began to break down, and the threat to the remainder of Czechoslovakia, and soon

Poland, loomed, churchmen from senior officiais to parish clergy began to evaluate how they as

Christians would approach the coming threat.

Despite the desire to preserve the tenuous peace of the 193% churchmen were not oblivious to the developing realities of the Nazi threat. A more sober view of the situation was noted in an interview with Temple in The Times in 1938,

Dr. Temple said that the general situation in the world was a source of profound anxiety and disquiet. It was not only an anxiety concerning what the future might bring, but a restlessness of conscience. He did not see how any Christian could contemplate the recent record of Europe, and especially in relation to Abyssinia, without shame and dis~na~.~~

At the height of the crisis, in another Times article on 23 September 1938, Temple criticized appeasement for its long term effects, and observed: "[iln Europe we have watched the

tearing up of treaties, clause by clause, without protest, but also with acquiescence. It may be

arguable chat the policy adopted may on each of these occasions have been the best possible in

the circumstances, but the cumulative effect of the process is morally calamitous.""

A foreshadowing of what was to corne for Britain was funher indicated by a heightened

religious perception at this time. The urgency of September 1938 led to a renewed emphasis on

prayer and belief by the public, as it appeared that God was the only thing standing between them

and a war. Mass Observation noted:

At the time of the Munich crisis, churches were packed with people pnying for peace, and the religious atmosphere of cursing and praying that surrounded the

Quoted in Cline, "Ecumenism and Appeasemen~"701. IS Che, 'Ecumenism and Appeûsement," 702. j6 The Times, 3 June 1938, 15. " The Tinter, 23 September 1938, 14.

28 whole of the negociations (sic) came over clevly in al1 the channels of propoganda (sic). After this breathing spitce, the religious tensions dropped - as counts on various churches indicate - to be revived with the Danzig crisis and the ~ar?~

Such a view of the long phase before the war was tempered by a religious "exhaustion," as expressed in an interview with a London vicar who, when asked about the initial spiritual reaction to the war in 1939, responded: "Off hand, 1 can't say very much about the spiritual effect, because 1 think the war has grown on people gradually. It didn't corne as a shock as expected,"" The long lead in to the ww, coupled with the existing feeling that war would corne eventually anyways, consequently diminished the shock to the nation in September 1939.

It was under such conditions that the Church leaûers and clergy responded to the declaration of war on 3 Septernber 1939. When considering the context both religiously and historically, it is arguable that Mass Observation's labeling of the Church's approach as

"confusing" should be qualified. There were. indeed, two apparently different general approaches to the war. The reasons for that, however, and the manner in which they were communicated, indicates that there was more of a unified perception of what the war represented

religiously, and what the Church's spiritual role was to be. in addition, while the Church's

support for appeasement as described above appeared antithetical to supporting the war, it is

possible that there was no contradiction present in the opposing views. Members of the Church

leadership, as has been noted, supported the policy of appeasement and urged that peace must be

achieved whatever the cost. These bdiefs had not changed, but the cost of a meaningful peace

had; the only solution appeared to be violent conflict. Support for appeasement dso provided to

churchmen, and those looking to criticize the Church for supporting the war, the justification that

Britain had done dl it could to prevent war fom happening, and was therefore devoid of any

moral responsibility. Bntain was therefore a victim, not an aggressor, putting it in the position of

38 Mas-Observation Archive: FR 23 "Church, Religion in War-Tirne," Januvy 1940, p. 6. 39 Reverend Welch quoted in Mas-Observation Archive: TC Religion, 1/C, Interviews with London Reverends, November 1939. king able to justify the use of violence as a "reluciant defendef' of al1 that was good and morally right.

With Hitler's insistence on constantly breaking agreements and threatening the moral fnmework of what was considered still a "Christian" Europe, it became apparent to such men as

Archbishop Temple and Bishop Bell that the only means for achieving me peace would have to be through war. in his 1940 Penguin special Chrisriani0 and World Order, Bell argued: "Men are searching for Order. The agony of the war is part of the cost of that search ..A is clear that while war is raging Order cannot ise secured. It is also plain that while the Nazi regime continues it is impossible to make &der.'* He further stated thac, "the Christian, whether he be combatant or non-combatant, has a funher duty. He will still seek, through the very tomnt of war, the establishment of order, and with order, peace."J1 Temple viewed the corning of the war in much

the same manner. "No positive good can be done by force; that is true," he proclaimed in a radio

address to the nation, "but evil cm be checked and held back by force, and it is precisely for this

that we rnay be called upon to use it.'" For churchmen like Temple, the war was perceived to be

a lesser of two evils; in general they were of the opinion that "in a fallen world the rightness of

most acts is measured in relative terrn~.'*'~In a letier written in November 1939, Temple pointed

out that "when 1 Say that in the circumstances killing is right, 1 am not denying chat it is sinful; but

we are in a position, as indeed we frequently are in other relations, where the choice is between

two evils.'* C.S. Lewis, an intellectual and active lay member of the Church of England,

perhaps stated it best when he maintained that "love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish

for the loved person's ultimte good as far as it can be obtained. it seerns to me, therefore, that

when the worst cornes to the worst, if you cannot restrain a man by any method except by trying

a George K.A. Bell. Christianiry and World Order, (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books, 1940). 88. '' Bell, Christianity and World Order. 85. 42 William Temple Broadcast address 1939, in F.A. ircmonger, William Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury: His Life and Leners, (London: Oxford University Press, 1948). 229. Iremonger. William Temple, 23 1. " Iremonger, William Temple, 23 1. to kill him, then a Christian musi do that.lAs Because religious leaders felt a moral obligation to rid the world of the pure, Nazi %vil", therefore, "[tlhe end justified the means.. .and the end was seen very sirnpiistically as the defeat of the enemY.'*

The two predominant perceptions and interpretations of what the war represented to

Church of England leaders incorporatecl two viable threais that were an extension of their attitudes in the intenvar period, one addressing the extemal threat (the Nazis), and one criticizing the intemal problerns of British society. The mner in which the extemal threat was ultirnately to be overcome, many clergy believed, was through fint dealing with the problems inherent in the current structure of British society. it was thus necessary to emphasize the interconnectedness of these two seemjngly opposite views to the congregaiions and the people outside the church.

In addressing the international threat to British society, Church leaders portrayed the war as the ultirnate religious bile between good and evil, a new historical "cmsade" of sorts. The

Nazis were viewed as the perfect manifestation of evil that resulted from the ilcceptance of secularism. while the British were a Christian nation, fighting "from 1940 a sort of everyman's cnisade" against such evil." The church historian Roger Lloyd argues that such a viewpoint of the war was not difficult to accept, because "spiritual wickedness in high places reached such a pitch of sheer diablerie chat it sprerid wirh the velocity of a forest fire, and none could pretend that it was other than it seemed to k."*Such a picnire of good versus evil was more acceptable in discussions on the Second World War because there was a distinctly "evil" enemy that had provoked the wu: the Nazis. A.A. Milne, a fmus "converted pacifist", noted: "in fighting

Hitler we are tmly fighting the Devil, Mi-~hrist."" Hastings argues that "most people accepted

------'' Lesley Walmsley. C.S. Lewis: Essuy Collection and Other Shon Pieces, (London: HarperCollins, 2000). 318. a Hastings, A History of English Christianity, 380. 47 Hastings, A Hisrory of English Christianiry,382. '' Roger Lloyd, The Chrrrch of Ertglud 1900-1965,(London: SCM Press, 1966), 457. " Hastings, A History of English Chrisrianiry, 382. The title of "converted pacifist" is Hastings description of Milne. The labeling of Hiiler as the "Anti-Christ" is dso present in The Church Tintes who criticized those who were not critical enough of Nazism. In response it noted, "if it is recagnized that Hiilerism, the war simply enough as a moral obligation and the more they learnt about the Nazis, the more certain they were."' In a sense. such an argument was more persuasive in its support for the war because it identified it with a higher purpose by basing it on spiritual principles. Those who believed this included the more conservaiive leaders of the Church, such as the Archbishop of

Canterbury, Cosrno hg. In a public statement, published in the press on 15 Septernber 1939,

Lang declared chat:

The real issue concerns the new found doctrine that 'might is right'. If it were allowed to succeed ...the peoples of the wodd would be kept in the bondage of fear, and al1 hopes of settled peace and of the securiiy of justice and liberty among the nations would be ended .... It is to this high crusride that 1 now summon my peo le at home and my people across the seas who will m;ike our cause their own. R

The cal1 for such a crusade was thus nor divided dong national or ethnic lines, but on religious beliefs that transcended such divisions. Geoffrey Fisher, the Bishop of London, made this distinction in a sermon preacbed to a group of Americans éy arguing:

this war belongs to another series of wars in which the contlict is not between homogeneous nations, but between starkly opposed spiritual principles.. ..We believe that we fight for the spirinid principles of Freedom, Religion and what 1 will cd1 for a Iack of a better word, Hopeful Creaiion. ...If you ask the ordinary Englishman what we are fighting for he will probably Say, 'to smash Hitler'; and that is indeed the first necessity. But he knows chat as your President has said, this is a war between Religion and godlessness. "

In the opinion of most churchrnen, the enemy was clearly defined as the Nazis, ternpered with the acknowledgement that there were some Gennans who had fought for the very ideals established by cruelty and persecution, regardless of justice, fair play or any son of decency, is an atiempt io destroy the teaching and practice of Christianiiy. To whitewitsh Herr Hitler is to whitewash antiChristW Th Church Times, 12 Ianuary 1940,19. Hastings, A Hisrory of Aglish Chrisrianiry, 373. 51 "Statement at Outbreak of W;ir by the Archbishop of Canterbury", Lang Papers, Lambeth Palace Libriuy, 26 August 1939. hg'scd1 10 a religious "crusde" was met by criticism hmother Church leaders, most notably from the Manchester Diocese Clergy, who on the 28" September 1939 sent a leiter to the Archbishop stating: "in particular we deplore the spirit of nationaiism which pervades (your message); there is very iitile stress laid on !he undoubted fact that the sins of our own country and of our Ailies have had a large share in causing this war, which your Gnce says, 'has ken ihnist upon us by the action of one m."'Manchester Diocesan Clergy !O Archbishop Lang 28 September 1939, Lang Papers, LPL. within Germany that the British were now fighting for. Bell noted that just because the Nazis were Gennan did not necessarily implicate al1 Gemsas evil; "this does not rnean there are not rnany good men in Gerrnany silently opposed to Hitler," he argued.s3 Temple, in the pre-war context, had also declared that "the Church itself must exhibit the spirituai fellowship which sunnounted al1 dividing barriers, Christians in different nations, even in waning nations, must be united in cornmon intercession."" The war was consequently a battle against a specific group, the

Nazis, which embraced the absolute evils of rnankind and was not necessarily against the entire

A logical argument based on the premise that the Nazis were the embodiment of evil would necessarily appew to require that the British be perceived as the defenders of good and, therefore, of anything " Christian." Concepts of freedom were rooted in the principles of

Christianity, and thus it was reasoned that fighting for freedom was equivalent to fighting to maintain a Christian civilization. Fisher himself pointed this out in a sennon after the war by observing that "the world thought we were lost; and if that had been so, there would have gone this gracious way of life which has grown up here through the centuries and which, for al1 its faults and sins, bears the marks of Christian faith and ~irtue."~This was not to say chat Britain was understood to be much better than Nazi Germany in tenns of the secularization of its society,

'' Sermon by Geoffrey Fisher, Fulhiun Papers, Lambeth Palace Library. The date and origin of this semn were not noted in the collection of documents, but it would appear - through various references - that Fisher was indeed addressing a group of Americans. '' Bell, Chrisiianity and World Order, 84. It should be noted that Bell was a prominent supporter of the ecumenical movement between German and British churches. Therefore, his view of the German gopulation should be seen within this viewpoint. The Times, 3 lune 1938, 15. '' The distinction between Nazis and the rest of the German population was not a sentiment shared by ihe entire Church population. In The Church Times the question of who exactly Britain was fighting against wns addressed: "We have said before that we regard the suggestion thai the Allies are fighting Hitler, and not Germany, as a misleading sentimentality. For reasons that are perfectly easy to understand. Hem Hitler is still the misted and revered Fuhrer of the Reich. A correspondent of the Brussels newspaper, La Libre Belgique, reports that the German people are not in the lest discounged by the hardships hmwhich they are suffering, and are convinced that defeat wouid mean a pmition of Gerrnany and a 'new slavery.' Their loyalty to Herr Hitler will probably remain, unless his aggression leads to military or economic disaster. or both." The Church Times, 19 January 1940,39. " Sermon by Geoffrey Fisher. Fulham Papers, Lambeth Palace Library. but that on a relative scale it was better and thus was a "not entirely worthy" defender of good.

Lang's qualified view of the virtues of British society are found in a letter from the Archbishop's chaplain to Oliver Quick, the well known Canon of Christ Church, Oxford which stated that the

Archbishop, "on many occasions asserted his belief that this is a struggle between right and wrong, however unworthy we may be to be the champions of righteousness."" Bishop Bell wrote that even though Britain was called upon to be the defender of a Christian society, this

"daes not rnean that the just State is realized on the side of Britain.. .or there are men in Britain unworthy of their cause. But it does mean that the direction in which the British are stnving is towards that end, in contrast with the opposite direction taken by the ~azis."~~At the very least, those who held to the view that the Second World War was a struggle of "religions" viewed

Britain, despite its secular nature, as the lesser of two evils, as it was still rooted enough upon the religious principles of Christianity to be a worthy defender of Christian values.

The attitude that the war was some type of spiritud crusade to be fought by a Christian nation was not just simply the view of the senior leaders of the Church. Such perceptions reached down to the parish level as well, and translated into one way in which to encourage support for the war in the congregations. In the January 1941 issue of the Christ Church, Lancaster Gate

Parish Magazine, the Vicar, Prebendary Richard Beresford-Peirse, proclaimed:

[i]t is a sense of grim determination which possesses not only the sou1 of London, but that of our Empire, a resolution free €rom the spirit of vindictiveness that we will never sheath Our sword until the world has been delivered from this threatened tyranny. if ever a people were called to a crusade, England is summoned today. We fight for our English freedom; but we fight no less for the freedom of men's bodies and men's spirit in dl nations; we fight for a Christian civilization, for Christian principles, for the Christian faith itself - 'And this is the victory that overcometh the world, even Our fai~h.'~~

The communication and acceptance of this theme at the local parish level was further

enhanced by its inclusion in sermons and other piuts of the service. Overall, Church of England

Archbishop of Canterbury's office to Oliver Quick, Christ Church, Oxford. 17 July 1940, L;mg Papen, LPL. Bell, Christianiry and World Order, 84. services changed very little structurally during the war, but there were some subtle inclusions chat encouraged the connection between God and country. in a study of Church of England services,

Mass Observation found increased references to the war in sermons and in hymns. Ministers made fairly frequent connections between the spiritual and the temporal, as one sermon pointed out that they lived "in a world where men are at war with God and at war with each ~ther."~'

Mass Observation also observed Chat "hyrnns with war-like language were frequent" and the perception of a "British God mifested itself in prayers "for King and ~overnment."~'ApYt

from Mass Observation very little evidence of the dynamics of Church services during this tirne

has been located, but there is enough collected to ascenain that there was sorne - albeit probably modest- change in the content of services in order to encourage the congregation to support the war effort.

The net effect and purpose of establishing such an approach to the war was to instill in the people who listened a sense of duty and a cornmitment to the national cause. Because Britain

was seen to be a Christian nation, it necessarily became the responsibility of the British people to

become committed to the fight for the preservation of spiritual freedom in Britain and the rest of

the world. This would result only with the total defeat of the Nazis. The connection was

therefore established to a national cause that was much purer than any political or material

prernise. Such an argument was made by Fisher in the London Diocesan Leaflet, which was

distributed to al1 pürishes in London. In the October, 1940 edition, he wrote chat "dedication is to

a cause, seen afar off as a cause to be served with al1 that one has, dearer than life. Every day we

see Our cause more clearly. It is entmsted CO us by ~od.'*' Vicar Beresford-Peirse of Christ

Church, Lancaster Gate, similarly appealed in a parish council meeting "to al1 to serve in sorne

s9 Christ Church, Lancaster Gate, Parish Magazine, January 194 1, LMA. Mas-Observation Archive, TC Religion. lm, Church Service, St. John's Parish Church, Wdham Green, July 1940. 6' Mass-Observation Archive, FR 362 "Spiriid Report", August 1940, p. 2. 62 Geoffrey Fisher in fandon Diocesan kapet October 1940, LMA. way to help out Country and our Church in this Cime of danger and distre~s."~~Such a blending of nationalism and Christianity was a good way to equate such religious principles with practice by relaiing the spiritual to the temporal. The perception of the war as a spiritual crusade was - in whole or in part - a comrnon elernent of the Church of England's attitude to the war. There were also other, equally vaiid, ways in which the war was perceived chat were internally focused. There were many clergy who felt that the war was a judgment by God upon mankind - including Britain -for its disassociation with a Christian moral base. Mass-Observation, for example, pointed out that many clergymen

"regard the war as a very great evil that we must blame ourselves for."6J Such a perception is notable in a sermon by a priest in London in early 1940, who asserted: "let us at al1 times rernember chat the War which has been forced upon us is not of God's doing: it is through the sin and evil that is in men that this evil is come upon 'These quotations," Mass-Observation concluded, "indicate the feeling of those who think. ..that man is fundamentally weak and liable to go wrong: the war is to be blamed on that elementary flaw in mankind."66

This more critical view of the war, as E.R. Norman argues, was especially predominant in the lower levels of the clergy; those who were more in touch with the local parish c~mmunity.~'

However, in a city like London where senior authorities were frequently in charge of parishes as well, such delineation is difficult to maintain. In addition there were those in higher positions of authority, like Fisher and Temple, who frequently associated with parochial clergy in West

London. As a result to some extent almost al1 clergy in London referred in some manner to this perspective chat the war was the result of a lack of cornmitment to religious ideals. In a letter to

" Christ Church, Si. John's Wood Parish Congregational Commiitee Minutes. 15 Miuch 1940, LMA. Mass-Observation, FR 23 "Church and Religion in War-Tirne", Jmuary 1940, p. 28. 65 Mass-Observation, FR 23 Thurch and Religion in WY-Tirne". January 1940, p. 29. 66 Mass-0bsew;ition. FR 23 'Church and Religion in War-Time", January 1940, p. 29. '' ER. Norman, Church and Society in England liïO-197O: A Historical Study. (Oxford: Clvendon Press. 1976), 10. Temple, Professor Clay from the Board of Trade expressed such an opinion that appeared to be mirrored by Temple himself:

1 believe this war is the outcorne of and punishment for our materialism; and 1 feel that social reformers like ourselves are to btame. We have encouraged people to concentrate on economic reforms to the forgetting of ultimate values to which econornic refom must tre s~bordinate.~

Contrary to those who took a more positive view of British society - as the bbcnisaders" did - those who believed in the war as a jjudgment viewed ii more realistically as having forsaken its Christian roots almost compleiely. Therefore, they argued, a return to such a moral and ethical base, to the "ideal Britain" of the past, wris needed if the nation was to survive the war and beyond. in this way, there was a convergence of the perceptions chat the greatest threat was from the Nazis and the feeling that the problems that caused the war were inherent in British society, for both views simultaneously instilled a sense of duty based on a nostalgie view of a historically idealized Briiain. Both views very much advocated the survival of Britain, although their perceptions of the threais to its survival were different. However, both believed change from society's existing fom was necessary. As a resufi the desire for a "revival" of sons was strong.

The cornmitment to a spiriiual revival redefined the Church's cornmitment to its national duty by focusing on the fundamental interna1 issues and problems conceming British society, which at the same tirne would provide a better defense against the external enemy, the Nazis.

One Parish Magazine assened that "there must be a great revival of the faith which has been the backbone of this country's history, and it is for the Christian people to show by the calm and serenity of their lives that the faith of our Lord means everything to Religious belief was accordingly expected to take on an outward manifestation so it would spread to others. Efforts to encourage such a revival of faith were also made through the often-scheduled "National Days of

Prayer" in which political and spiritual leaders came together to encourage the public to pray for the war effort. Perhaps more than any other event, the National Days of Prayer indicated the

b8 Rofessor Clay, Board of Tde. to William Temple. 23 Febtuary 1942. Temple Papers, LPL. connection between the spiritual duties of the church and the national cause. In one parish these

Days were seen as "not so much an occasion for private prayeis at home as a call to the whole nation to rnake a public act of allegiance to God and to put ourselves into his hand~."~~

The call for a religious revival by Church leaders was not entirely an indication that they believed that British society had completely forsaken its religious roots. It is intecesting to note that there appeared to be a sense among church leaders, from those at the senior levels to chose in the parishes, that a religious revival of sorne sorts was indeed happening because of the war, and that the Church of England was getting left behind. in SC.Mary the Bolton's Parish magazine, Sr.

Mary's Mirror, the vicar noted that "the world is discovering what it was aiways professing to disbelieve, what we - in Our stupidity - allowed ourselves to disbelieve: that there was a great depth of inner life in Our country. We can be confident; it is there - and we are finding it again!"" Fisher, when observing the effects of the National Days of Prayer, noted in The London

Diocesan Leufiet that, "there was made evident for al1 to see, in ovefflowing churches ûnd in other ways, a real turning io God and a real trust in him."" He expressed belief that "inside and outside the Churches an increasing number of people is looking towards (the ~hurch)."~~Despite these strong opinions, other organizations, like Mass Observation, expressed serious doubt about the idea that Britain was becorning increasingly Christian:

The idea of religion is still vety active and dws occur in many varying circumstance. But whether the war has ken responsible for, or will in the future be responsible for, a religious 'revival' must be a matter of a certain arnount of doubt ....little clairn can justly be made that the war has already brought about ri rebirth of religious feeling in this country."

There are problems in accuntely determining the extent to which ihere was a turning

back to the churches, and, on at least one level (church attendance), Mass Observation was

69 St. Barnabas. Dulwich, Parish Magazine, Apnl 1940, LMA. Chfist Church, Lancaster Gate, Parish Magazine, September 1940,6, LMA. " Sr. Mary's Minor. St. Mary the Bolton's, October 1940.6, LMA. * hndon Diocesan Leajier, July 1940, LMA. GeoMey Fisher Sermon, Fisher Papers, LPL. '' Mass-Observation, FR 23 "Church and Religion in War-Time", January 1940, p. 76. correct. But, as with most religious ideas, it is difficult to quantify the expeciences of those in the congregations, and those outside the church iis well. Whether or not there was a tme revivd is difficult to determine, but it is important to note that - on a more spiritual level - Church of

England ministers and leaders did perceive a growth in religious feeling. The implication was that there was a direct correlation between a comrnitrnent to the cause of reinstating Britain as a moral and upright nation and the war itself. If the spiritual climate of the nation was better, so, too, it was believed would be the rnaterial commitment to the cause against the Nazis. Thus. the idea of a military "cnisade" against the Nazis converged with the idea of a moral, religious movement within the nation itself.

There was one other general approach to the war that was taken by the Church that is worth noting. Anglican Christianity is based on a sense of moral and ethical justice, but it also contains an element chat is much more peaceful in the sense of God king a "cornforter" in tirnes of trouble. The cal1 CO rely on God became especially important during the Blitz. when

Londoners faced the most difficult episode of the war. The invocation of God as a comfort was also more common when Church leaders related directly to the community; those in charge at the parish level could indeed preach such a message more emphatically because they themselves needed to believe it as weil. Mass Observation noted "rnost parsons who did not, in some way, identify God with the Nation's war effort offered him as an ~scape."~~In the SI. Mary's Mirror

July 1940 edition, the vicar wrote, "the Lord Christ can drive away fear, or give such courage that the forces of fear are held at bay."76 The most natural rnanner in which such an idea was communicated in services was through the use of various Psalms that extolled God as a comfort in times of trouble. Portrriying God as a cornforter revealed a more personal perspective of religion. Yet by providing a sense of calm in the individual, such a view also created a more

75 Mass-Observation Archive, FR 362 "Spiritual Report", August 1940, p. 1. Emphasis is in the original. 76 S. Mary's Mirror, St. Mary the Boltons, July 1940, LMA.

39 emotionally stable community and therefore a more easily manageable situation for those in charge of both the Church and the state.

Ian McLaine, in his book on the Ministry of information, uses the Webster Dictionary's definition of morale as "a confident, resolute, willing, often self-sacrificing and courageous attitude of an individual to the function or tasks demandeci or expected of him by a group of which he is a part."n He further explains, "morale was, and was seen to be, linked with social and political questions," and that "morale is maningless unless it promotes a~tion."'~in terms of the Church's contribution to the greater effort of maintaining monle arnong the gened population, it is difficut to determine fully what connection existed between such a cornmitment arnong the population to a united national cause and the belief that the war was, in one of the previously mentioned ways, "spiritual." When considering morale in this rnanner, though, it does appear chat the Church did indeed contribute to the maintenance of morale in the first half of the

~ar.7~The three major themes presented above prornoted action, a sense of duty, and encouraged

loyaity to the greater cause. it aiso provided hope by presenting the war as motivated by a higher purpose, establishing British society in the process as the defender of freedom and al1 that was

"right." The war was also anticipated as a battle ultimately for order, which is analogous to the general sociological definition of the dereligion plays in any society. As Clifford Geertz and

Peter Berger - two sociologists of religion - point out, "religion entails a cognitive ordering of concepts of self, of society, and of the supernatuml ....Therefore, religion is both a model of

reality and a model for ac~ion."~Consequently, the role that the Church played in the context of

the Blitz and the early war years does not necessarily constitute anything unusuai. However, in a

tirne of crisis, the purpose of religion (in this case Christianity) becomes rnagnifred, and can often

Ian McLaine, Ministry of Morale: Home Fronr and the Ministry of Information in World War II, (London: Allen and Unwin, 1979),8. Mcbne, Ministry of Morale, 3.8. l9 A discussion of the activities of the Church oiEngland in the community in London. and the challenges to its effectiveness, cm be found in the following chapter. SO Bames, Nazism. Liberalism and Christianity,6. Italics are his. be identified as sirnply another effective channel for the dissemination of government propaganda.

The use of religious institutions as simply an extension of the government propaganda system is noticeable in Britain during the early years of the war. However, it must also be noted that in some aspects the Church, dong with other religious institutions, was fundamental in defining the religious grounds for the war. This is most noticeable in the diffusion of the belief that the war was a greater spirinial battle, as it extended beyond Church circles and was recognized by those in power as a crucial therne. Moreover, such an idea amplified many British leader's perspectives that the war was indeed "total" and al1 encompassing. One example has previously ken noted: when Neville Chamberlain announced the declaration of war on the radio he concluded by referring to the spiritual dimension of the irnpending struggle. Winston

Churchill was also one who used such rhetoric in describing the war. as he asserted at the outset of the Battle of Britain: ''The Battle of Britain is about to begin. Upon this battle depends the survival of Christian civilizaiion."" These types of appeals indicate the culiivation of a perspective of the war that was inherent in much of British society, and transcended normal propaganda channels. It also placed the purpose for the war on a much higher level. As the

Ministry of information pointed out: "Religion inevitably cakes a very important place in the present situation. It is essential to preserve the conviction that this war must be carried through because it is right, not merely because it is e~~edient."~'By refemng to a spiritual purpose, therefore, British leaders felt that the public's resolve in the face of conflict would be strengthened.

To assist in the communication of the belief that the war was a greater stmggk for the preservation of Christian ideals, the government established a Religions Division within the

Ministry of Information. Its purpose was defined as:

"~obbins,"Briiain, 1940 and 'Chisuan Civilition,"' 279. Robbins points out that "such domtic langunge. however, carne from an undogm;itic mind," for Churchill was not typically a religious person. to ensure that the spiriniai issues at stake in war are understood at home and abroad; to see that spiritual and religious forces are brought into full play in the stmggle; to remove so far as possible war-time difficulties confronting the churches; and to facilitate and widen the influence of the churches as factors in steadfastness and morale.8'

While such a Division was under the control of the govemment, it made clear that "the work of the Division is done in coopention with the leaders of the churches and so far as possible through existing ~r~anizations."" A direct correlation was thus made between religious belief and institutional religion, for they were "natunlly the focal points for this conviction, and should help to spread it among the community generally,"85 However, the Division also mcognized the unique position of the Church, and its reluctance to be simply another channel for propaganda. in a meeting between those in charge of the Division and the leaders of the various churches

(including the Archbishop of Canterbury), Mr. Maclennan, the Director of the Division, noted, "1 reaiize that the Christian Church cmnot be used as an organ of propaganda. ...[ b]ut 1 trust that as individuals you will be ready and anxious to help In an intemal merno it was also noted:

the Christian Churches cannot be overlooked in any survey of channels of publicity, but delicate questions arise in regard both to Protestant and Roman Communions when the rniitter is considered in relation to the work of the Ministry of Information. The Christian movernent in the world is ecurnenical and supra-national in its conception, organization and aims.

'* "Religious Propaganda," 8 March 1941. iNF 11414, Public Record Office, London (henceforth PRO). Ministry of Information, Religions Division M.O.I. to Assistant Committee Officer. S.W. Region No. 7, 23 June 1943, INF 11402, PRO. While ihe Division was cenainly focused on the local effort. its most pressing priority seemed to be communicning übroad through established church channels the situation of Britain during the war. In particular the focus was on Arnerica - until it entered the war in 194 1 - and the occupied territories in Europe. This purpose was also defined in the memo above: "to make known overseas, and especially in America. ihe unmimity with which British churches support ihe war, and their reasons for doing so; to make use of religion in enemy-occupied counuies as an invaluable link with, and ground of appeal IO, large sections of the populaiion. This applies also in pan to Germany and Italy." Bishop Fisher also noted that "the work of this division is mostly abroad. in making known the point of view of British Christians to Christians in other lands ...A is intended to be primarily informative and factual rather than inspirational. It consists largely of news of the effects of the war on church life not readily accessible to the ordinary reader." "Notes on Religious Division," 4 Mach 1941, Fulham Papen, LPL. " Hugh Manin (Director of Protestant Section of Religions Division) to Mr. Thurtle, 16 February 1943, INF 11402, PRO. L'Religio~~Propaganda" [NF 114 l4,8 March 194 1, PRO. Meeting with Church Leaders, iNF 1/403,7 September 1939, PRO. Its objective transcends national racial and cultural differences; and it appeals to an ultimate loyalty that is above the tat te.'^

It was apparent that the churches had as much control over how such a message was defined and how it was communicated to the general population as the Governrnent had in controlling such a message.88 The relationship was, therefore, a cooperative one rather than the Ministry telling the

Church what to Say and how to act.

There are some historians - especially on the left - who have argued that such a relationship ôetween Church and state as expressed above has encouraged inactivity among the population, and has not promoted action or awareness of social questions; such a philosophy, they argue, continued into the twentieth century and the wars. An extreme example has ken advanced by the Socialist historians G.D.H Cole and Raymond Postgate in their book The

Common People, in which they argue that the Church of England used its position as the religious establishment in society to act as "an arm for the ruling interests" and to keep the lower classes out of such power relations that were present in society even in war-tirne." However, as E.R.

Norman points out, such an argument is too simplistic: '"ïo the extent that it contains tmth," he argues, "it is such an abridgement of the complicated realities of Christian experience that it constitutes a distonion valuable only for the polemical purposes it is used to serve."g0 The

Church, as mentioned previously, was aware of the social questions of the tirne, and used the war as an opportuniiy to address them under the auspices of a need for Britain to return to its Christian mots. At the same tirne, the recognition that the war was a greater moral and spiritual stmggle was felt by many in society not just the Church, and was therefore a more fundamental part of the

" "Minisiry of Information Memo. 293," INF 11414, Date Unknown, PRO The Church of England, in particuiar, appeared at times to be of the opinion that it did not have enough input into the workings of the Division. At one Bishop's War Committee meeting, 'The Bishop of Gloucester drew attention to the lack of representation of the Church of England in the Ministry of Inforniion. The Religious Deparunent appeared to be run by three Free Churchmen and their knowledge of ûrthodox affairs was nrininlly not extensive ....The Archbishop of Canterbury agreed that the Church of England was apt to be overlooked because it was not in the habit of making a row." Bishop's Wiu Committee Minutes, 16 October 1940, Fulham Papers, LPL. 89 Quoted in Norman, Church and Society, 3. Norman, Church and Society, 3. purpose for war. The mie of feligious beiief in saciety, therefore, especially in tirnes of crisis, while pmmoting a sense of order, is far too complicated to simply be a means of control of the general population.

When considering the contrasting approaches to religion rnentioned above, an analysis of the role an institution such as the Church of England played in the maintenance of morale, and in influencing a sense of coopention arnong the British population, therefore, is much more complicated. While there were tangible and material side effects from such a view, and a renewed cornmitment to support the nation in the war effort, the sincerity and intentions of churchrnen in conveying views necessitates a more cornplex analysis. [n addition, it could be suggested that the perceptions of the Church - most notably the idea of the war ai a judgment - were detrimenial to the construction of a propagandic "myth" conceming the unity and unconditional support of the British people for the wiuq9' Drawing attention to the deficiencies of the British system in a lime of crisis, while at the same time encouraging cornmitment to the cause, does not necessarily fit into the concept of ihe Church of England chat Cole and Postgate present.

The war, for churchmen in London. thus took on a dualistic quality: it called for a cornmitment to the war on the grounds on the basis that the war was about the tïght for religious

freedom and moral gd;and it looked inward and viewed the wuas a judgment on society as a

whole, including British society. These ihemes prevailed throughout the first three years of the

war, as the citizens of London directly bore the brunt of the wu. Churchmen both dailenged and supported the perception chat Britain was united, not because it necessarily was so, but because

there was a common spiritual enemy that had to be defeiited on two fronts. This extended beyond

1942 as the Church (as other institutions) began to look philosophicaily to the future. The desire

to prevent the tragedy of the First World War extended to include a prevention of a similar result

9' The most extensive description of the concept of a "myth concerning the uniting of British society as a result of the war cm be found in Angus Cdder, The Myih of the Blitz, (London: Cape, 1991). at the end of this particular war, and was coupled with the desire to sustain some of the religious intensity in Britain during the war. This led the Church to look forward in an effort to continue the religious "revival"of British society. Chaoter Two: "Relidon in Action": The Church and the Local West London Community

During the first two years of World Wu Two Britain rernained as the main defender against Nazi aggression in Western Europe, and as a result bore the brunt of its attacks. The most vivid example of this was the Battle of Britain during the latter half of 1940. a series of German aerial attacks in preparation for the invasion of the British Isles following the evacuation of hnkirk in May 1940. After a small British raid on Berlin in late August 1940, the focus of the

Gerrnan aggression moved from strategic militacy points to the bombing of the local civilian population in London and some provincial cities. On 7 September 1940, London experienced its first major raid, beginning the period of the war known as the Blitz. Until the Nazis invaded the

Soviet Union in June 1941, London underwent intense aerial bombardrnent that inflicted approximately 86 000 casualties, including 40 000 killed, and physical damage chat was virtually immeasurable. The Blitz also disrupted life as a whole in the city. The evacuation of portions of the population, the ntioning of supplies, the mobilization of troops, and the stationing of the military within London ail severely affected the everyday lives of people who were left in the community .

The disruption of everyday life in London also had an unsettling effect on every social institution in London, including the Church of England. One of the more important components of the Church of England has been the parochiai system, which has been the main source of connection between the Church and the individual within British society. While other communal institutions have been studied in social histories of Britain during the war, there is relatively little discussion of the Church of England's physical contribution to the conununity during the war years. in most cases, any mention of the Church in these studies has centered on two extreme

assessments. The first is the assertion that the Church of England and its members acted

heroically in a tirne of stress, and ministered to the wounded and dying faithfully despite the

threats they faced because of the bombings. Typical of this is the following: "with hardly an

exception, they stood fast and took whatever came, and they faithfully tended their swicken people at the moment of their greatest need."' The other extreme viewpoint, and the more

persistent argument presented by historians, concludes that the Church's contribution to the

maintenance of society during the war was virtuaily nonexistent. Those who make this argument

assume that vicars and other clergymen did not care about helping anyone else, attendance at

religious services declined to virtually nothing, and church buildings were closed to the public.

This caused, they argued, a lack of connection between the Church and the community during

this time?

While both of these assumptions have some validity, neither of them offers an accurate

description of the parish experience during the war. The effort to rnaintain social ties to the

comrnunity and to physicaily support those affected by the war, continued to be a major focus of

the Church, both at the senior and local levels. The motivation to maintain such connections was

funher sustained by the religious beliefs justifying the war. Churchmen both believed in the need

for war against the Nazis and also desired a change in British society in order to prevent it from

happening again. The relationship between religious beliefs and social efforts, consequently,

became even more important in a tirne of conf kt.

' Roger Lloyd, The Church of England 1900-1965,(London: SCM Press, 1966), 458. A.J. Hoover, in the one book specifically about the churches during World War Two, refers to the local experiences of the church as a social institution in only one pangraph, without any references. He argues, "[The clergy] suffered like everyone else in the bombing, and ihey helped in the afiermath of aerial attacks. No longer could you charge that they did not contribute to front-line action. Clerics opened their churches and homes as bomb shelters and helped minister to ihe wounded and dying after the attacks.... Bishops left their palatial residences or moved into one section of he residence. Som gladly allowed their mansions to be used as shelters for evacuees. The public in genenl fell that he clergy did its fair share of the work during the war." A.J. Hoover. Cod. Briiain and Hitler in World War II, (London: Praeger, 1999). 19. A similar example is found in Philip Ziegler, Lonhn ut War 1939-1945, (New York Alfred Knopf, 1995), 81. 'Norman Longmate, in his narrative on the w, points to his assurnption by describing one vicar who welcomed the bombings because hey allowed one to spend an entire evening "likely free From any interruption Save that of the anti-aircraft and an occasional bomb." Norman Longmate. How We Lived Then: A Hisrory of Everyday Life During the Second World War, (London: Hutchinson and Co., 197 l), 391. Tom Hamisson of Mass-Observation also argues dong these lines, stating that "churchmen regularly failed to respond, in public myway, beyond the necessities of their own narrow groupings; frequently hey failed these too. ...it could be said that for churchrnen, with so few administrative responsibilities, the blitz brought new, great opponunities. a major challenge. The challenge was not taken up." Tom Hdsson, Living Through the Blitz, (London: Collins, 1976),310. Despite its best efforts, however. the Church was faced with an increasing number of challenges chat undermined its contribution to the community. Som of these. such as evacuation, taiioning, and an increased military presence in greater London were shared with the rest of society. Other obstacles, however, were unique to the Church's experience. The growing infringement of "secular" aspects of society on traditionally religious areas of British culture - sucb as Sundays, education, and on religious space itself - coupled with administrative challenges within the Diocese of London, including a cmcial rnanpower shortage, helped create the impression that the Church was indifferent to the plight of the people.

Through an analysis of the three major components of the parish system - the clergy, the congregation, and the space and time important to the Church - it is possible to present a more accurate picture of the status of the parish in wartirne West London. All three components were severely disturbed by the war, hampering the Church's efforts in the community. However, its

influence did not diminish to the degree that is often assumed by historians who hold a more

"secular" view. Despite the apparent decline of participation in religious practices, the war

revealed a desire among the population to maintain a religious presence in the community. As

weil, the Church's association with the rest of the community was actually strengthened rhrough

the shared obstacles and experiences during this cime.

As the leaders of the parish, the vicar and his fellow clergy have played an important role

ûs caregivers and administrators in the infrastructure of the community throughout British history.

And while that role had diminished considerably during the first decades of the twentieth century,

it was apparent during the war that it had not wholly disappeared. While the primary role of ihese

men was, as the Ministry of Information interpreted it, to work towards "the preservation of the

mode of the nation and for the dissemination of a crue point of view", there was also a practicai

side in which the clergy were seen to contribute to the ministry of "those in nee~l."~

As the Bishop of London, Geoffrey Fisher pointed out to Herbert Momson, the Home Secretary: "al1 of them have responsibilities to do al1 that can be done in helping to rninister to the physical and spiritual needs of the people at these times.'"'

The need to minister to the physical needs of the local public placed a great deal of responsibility upon the vicar. Moreover, the war produced distinct problems chat created funher pressures on this group. Fint and foremost, there was a shonage of clergy that exacerbated al1 the other problems the clergy faced. There had been fewer men drawn to the ministry before the war and this had an enormous impact on the role the Church could play in the comrnunity. Soon after the war began this existence of a shortage of clergy was enhanced by new concems. As in other wars, the need for chaplains to support the armed forces became a concem of those in charge of the clergy, and the Second World War was no different. In a 1941 letter to Bishop

Fisher, the Chaplain-General indicated that his

inunediate need is for clergymen young enough and fit enough to cake up appointments as chaplains, who will be ready and willing to serve anywhere and candidates in the thirties and fonies would be most welcome. Our requirements for overseas are heavy and for this purpose chaplains of such ages are welcome.'

Generally, vicars were exempt from active service because of their "own essential role in the cornrnunity", unless they chose to go, and gained the permission of the Bishop in charge.6 As a result, many clergymen were called up or volunteered for active duty as chaplains in the different divisions of the armed forces overseas, something miuiy, especially the younger ones, were willing to do. In one report in October 1943, it was noted that of 1202 clergy in active

' A.R.P. Depariment Circular 119, Ministry of Information INFI1414 and H0186/1450, 1939, PRO. 'Fisher to Momson, 1 1 September 1941, Fulhm Papen, LPL. War Office to Fisher, 4 October 1941, Fulham Papen, LPL. "isher to Bishop Worcester, 17 May 1940, Fulham Papen, LPL. Longmate, How We Lived Tlien, 387. He gws on to state that "some suspicious Anglo-Catholics had wamed against any attempt by Low Church bishops to seize this opportunity to rid their diocese of High Churchrnen." service, 144 were from London; this was, by a large ma@, the largest number from any diocese in ~n~land.~

Because of the steady departure of young clergymen from the local community to serve in the forces, the need for more clergy in both the arrned forces and at home was never resolved.

On a local level, the question of how to achieve a balance between how many could serve as chaplains without jeopardizing the needs of the community in London incited much debate during the war. The simple tmth was that there were not enough clergymen to go around. While the

War Office acknowledged that "the Govemment has urged the Bishops to maintain in the parishes the parochial life for the sake of national morale," and that "when men go as chaplains their place has to be filled by retired worn-out men, and of course the parochial life suffers in every respect," it also felt that the primary duty of the Church was to supply the armed forces abroad with enough ministem8 The future of Britain was at the front, not at home. One commandant in the School for Chaplains, Frank Woods, who strongly supporied this notion, wrote to Fisher, stating "it seems to many of us in the forces that the Church of England will

'miss the bus' unless it conscripts 4 its clergy below the age of 46." The reason for this, he argued, was that "CO continue to allow so many of them to minister to a generation which will be old after the war, and to Christians who will rernain Christian anyways ...when the male

population of England is king thrown at our feet for evangelisation and instmction, seem to us

nothing short of ~uicidal."~

A good example of the problem noted above is evident in one West London parish. St.

Mary the Bolton's, in the borough of Chelsea, was to lose both its Vicar and its priest-in-charge

' "Diocesan Contribution of Chaplains", October 1943, Fulham Papen, LPL. The proportional represeniation of London clergy would stay at around this percentage throughout the war, but the acnial number ofclergy leaving to serve as chaplains would steadily rise. a War Office IO Fisher, 4' Octoôer 1941, Fulhm Papers, LPL. 9 Frank Woods, Commandant, to Fisher 7 May 1943, Fulham Papen. LPL. In response to such a letter, the Bishop's War Cornmiltee "made the suggestion that the basis of selection of Chaplains should be changed and that in future al1 clergy who had ken three years in Orders and up to the age of forty-five should be duhg the war, the former to cal1 up and the latter to a lack of funds and ~ongre~ation.~~

Consequently, the running of the parïsh was left to the churchwarden, a member of the congregation responsible for the administration of the parish. Such a challenge to the parish's infrastnicture severely hampered the Church's attempis to fulfill its duties in the cornmunity.

During the Second World War a unique situdon also developed to complicate the pcoblem of balancing between providing chaplains and rninistering to those at home: the front moved to London itself. Consequently, not only were the clergy of London confronted with the issue of participating in armed conflict if invasion did occur, they dso faced an increased responsibility over and above their regular duties. With regard to anned participation by the clergy, Fisher was not against preventing them €rom fighting if it wu necessary, despite the apparent "inconsistencies" with Christian doctrine. '"i'here is a strong feeling of sentiment against the clergy fighting," Fisher wrote in the dark days of the spring of 1940, "but [the

Bishops' War Cornmittee] felt that the matter my be so critical at any moment that sentiment was not a sufficient guide."" This reasoning was based in large part upon the belief that the

British were moraily "right" in engaging in rirmed conflict against the Germans.

Perhaps a greater issue was the provision of chaplain services to local forces in London, most prominently the Royal Air Force. The local vicars were thus forced to rnaintain a double

responsibility: while ministering to the needs of the civilian population, they also had to contend

with providing for the local forces, including enteminment. religious observance, and moral

issues associated with the presence of various rnilitiuy units. In addition there were the local,

------eirpecied io go as Chaplains unless reiained by the Bishop either for essentiid wok al home or because they were unsuited." Bishop's War Commiüee Minutes. 19.20 January 1943, Fulham Papers, LPL. 'O At ihe 26 June 1940 Parisfi Council meeting, it was noted thal "Mr. Josselyn [the church warden] reported that ihe vicar expected to be called up as a chaplain to the forces early in October." In the Pakh Magazine for November 1940, it was noted îhat the Viau had indeed left on 10 October 1940 to assume bis duties with Eastern Command. At a similar Parkh Council meeting on 9 Febmary 1941, it was also noted ihat ihe oniy priest left, Mr. Watts, was diimissed because of the "serious Finmial position of the parish." This left Mr. Josselyn, a lay member, as the most senior mernhr of the church administration. Parish Council Minutes, Si. Mary the Bolton's Parish Records, LMA. 11 Fisher to the Bisbop of Worcester, 17 May 1940, Fulham Papers, LPL. civilian "forces" such as the Home Guard and the Fire Services chat required an "officiai" chaplain. in one parish magazine, a Vicar noted the strain this put on the parish priest:

[elvery priest worth his salt will gladly respond to these additional calls to the best of his ability. None the less the drain on the energy and power of the clergy imposed by this additional work cannot but react on their primary responsibility, namely the care of their parish church, its services, and the manifold parochial activities connected with it ...A is al1 a matter which the laity should note and watch with attention and a little anxiety.'*

in addition to adrninistering to their congregation and acting as chaplains to the Home

Forces, the average clergyman in both east and West London served as a minister to the wounded

and to those in the bomb shelters. In a repon entitled "What the Voluncary Bodies are Doing" in

the East End, Mass-Observation noted chat clergy were assisting in shelters for the homeless and

working alongside the efforts of other voluntary ~r~anizations."In West London specifically, the

clergy assisted in hospitais, in bomb shelters, and in the streets. For many people, the presence of

a churchman was additionally a sign of comfort, given the continuing superstition held by many

chat the German bombs could not hic them while in his presence.'J

While the clergy in London were put under a tremendous amount of pressure because of

the various chailenges they faced, cooperation with the local authorities did allow them sorne

extra freedoms that the general public did not have. The ability to travel more freely during air

raids was provided to them by Air Raid Precautionary officiais and the Home Office so that they

"should not be hampered €rom moving about the streets in air raid conditions to fulfil (sic) their

spiritual function~."'~This was done by providing each clergyman with an annband of a simple

design - a blue backing with a white cross - which distinguished them from the general

" Holy Triniry: A Parish Puper, January 1944.2, LMA. The responsibility of ministering to those ouiside their normal congregation also placed greaier pressure on the entire Church infrastructure. In ri repon presented by the Bishop's War Committee, it was noted, "the Bishop, through the piuish priest, is responsible for the spiritud condition of every camp and aerodrorne in his diacese." Bishop's War Committee Minutes, Fulhm Papen, LPL, 5 Apnl 1940. l3 Mass-Observation, FR 43 1 "Survey of Voluntruy/Officid Bodies during Bombing of East End," September 1940, pp. 58-60. " Longmate, How We Lived Then, 387. I5 "Notice of Deputation Received ai the Home Office," Thursday May 25 1939, HO 18611450, PRO. population, thus preventing them from king bothered by officiais as they rnoved about. in a press telease early in the war, the Home Office pointed out that "the privilege which the wearing of the arrnlet is intended to confer is that of liberty of movement whilst air raids are in progress for the purpose of attending casualties and ministering to those in need."I6

The effectiveness of the clergy in assisting the community during the early years of the war - and in particular during the Blitz - was augmented by their relationship to the congregation of the parish. Members of the congregation were the second major component of the parochiai system and played a major and obvious role in connecting the parish church to the community.

Ultimately, the leadership in the parish church manifested itself not through the power of the

Archbishop or the Bishop, but from the local priest and his congregation. As the Vicar of Christ

Church, Fulham avowed, "in any parish church it is from the whole congregation, and not from the vicar alone, that the redemptive grace of God should go out."17 This role was to be enlarged during the war years because of the shortage of clergy available to run the parish. As noted in the case of St. Mary the Bolton's, the church lost both its priest in charge and its vicar, leaving the administration of the parish up to the churchwarden, a layman from the community.'' 1n Holy

Trinity, Chelsea, a parish that was relatively unaffected by call-ups or physical damage, there was still only one clergyman, the rector, to handle the affairs of the community. Thus it became more important for the congregation to be involved." As a result, those churchmen who were 1eft

16 "For Press and Broadcast," 31 Octobcr 1939, HO 18611450, PRO. In addition to ihe armlet. offcirils had planned to provide each clergyman with a helmet and respirator to keep them safe. However a Iack of supplies prevented the provision of these to the clergy. A letter from the Ministry of Home Security to the Bishop's War Committee, stated: "It should be noted that the mgements mentioned in ARP. circuliu 289/1939 for the purchase of steel helmets and respirators from Govemment stocks have been suspended owing to temporary shomges and urgent demands on supplies, and ministers who are not already supplied may now be unable to acquire this equipment for some tirne." 15 October 1940, Fulham Papers, LPL. Also found in "For Press and Broadcast," 3 1 October 1939. PRO. 17 Christ Church, Fulham Parish Magazine, Jmuary 1940, LMA. The changing dynamic of the leadership in St. Mary's cm be traced hrough boih the Parish Council Minutes of the wiu years, and the notices present in the Parish Magazine. St. Mary's Mirror, Octoôer 1940, LMA. l9 Noted in Holy Trinity Parish Magazine, NovemberIDecember 1942, LMA. appealed to their congregations to "see to it that Our contribution to this comrnunity is not

While congregations were beset with a greater responsibility to manage the affairs of the parish and minister to the rest of the comrnunity, they, too, were faced with challenges caused by a change in their population. Statistics concerning church attendance do indicate that those who went to church regularly declined significutly. Mass-Observation, for example, found in the

Paddington area that the average congregation size declined from 131 in early 1941 to only 5 1 in

June of the sarne year. The average congregation size during the Blitz hovered around 72." The changing complexion of those who attended also created the appearance chat the Church was apparently catering only to those who were old and female, because they were often the only people left in the church."

The use of attendance figures atone, while helpful. is somewhat problematic. There were a number of factors that contributed to the dedine of church attendance, many of them affecting the makeup of the entire comrnunity. First and foremost, evacuation played a major part in the disruption of both communal and parish life. The overail dispersion of "so many members of most of its congregations as the result of the kind of war it hüd ben" was a very serious matter."

In September 1939 alone, approximately 1,440,000 people were evacuated from the London area on a voluntary basis." Moreover, the very nature of urban, middleçlass London in the twentieth cenniry has been unsettled; such a setting makes the establishment of a strong parish ptesence

" St. Barnabas, Dulwich Parish Magazine, October 1940, LMA. 21 Mass-Observation Archive TC Religion, IF, Paddington Church Counts, June 1941, p. 4. The same report also noted a "steady drop in Church of England membership from 1934- 1939." " In the same report as above, Mass-Observation found hrt, on average, only twenty-one percent of rttendees were male. In addition. forty percent were over fifty, and a further 35 percent were between the ages of 35 and 50. Mas-Observation Archive TC Religion, IF, Paddington Church Counis, June 1941, p. 1. It should be noted that these figures were the result of head counts done by observers. The churches themselves made no accurate counts. As a result attendance figures from this time pend me somewhu confusing. Roger Lloyd, The Church of Englnnd 1901)-196.5, (London: SCM Press 1966), 483. 24 Titmuss notes that 'lhis number is considerably less than the number of people who actuaily left these areas, owing to the remmovement between the 3d and 29' of November 1939." Richard Tianuss, difficult even in normal conditions. Greater London was already undergoing an "outward migration" that created a constant change in the dernographics of the city.= The evacuations. therefore, merely exacerbated an existing problem, causing an upheaval in the parish's infrastructure. It also translated into a lack of a solidly loyal base of members that could help the

Church be involved in the community. Vicar Cheshire of Holy Tnnity, Chelsea, for example, noticed such a characteristic in his own community:

[tlhe war has unmasked the tmth of London, certainly West London. Now we can see how very little down our roots run; how very thin our ties with London really are; how easily many of us can pack up and clear out and be very little the worse for it. London has been show up. And small wonder, for its vastness, its restlessness, its impersonality, has more and more in recent years corne home to us.26

As a result of this transience, Cheshire argued, "for a long tirne past the advancing inclination to escape from London has tembly hampered the growth of sustüined church life; every Sunday has been a son of recumng gamble - from a parson's point of view!"" As Roger

Lloyd points out, "for a Church still parochially organized a chronically mobile population is a very serious n~itter."*~Because the population was not completely stable, there was really no communal attachment existent in West London upon which one could build a strong parochial foundation. The war was merely the cataiyst for exposing and amplifying the situation to the point that it was almost unmanageable for the parishioners and the clergy.

Pmblems of Social Policy, (London: His Majesty's Siationery Office and Longmans. Green and Co., 1950), 543-544. There are no statisiics available that ded specifically with West London. The change in the demopphics of London has been discussed on two levels. First was the constant change in the numbers of the population, with some people migrating out of the ;uea while new people moved in from 0thports of Europe and England. Second was the change in the complexion of these new people, in temof class and nationdities. Dov Fnedlander argues that "since 1901 London becarne an area of population dispersai on a massive scale. In ierms of net migration streams, London lost nearly 400, 000 migrants per decade, 1901-193 1 and lost half a million migrants per decade, 193 1-195 l....beginning in 1901 the rate of population concentration into the Home Counties gradually declined und it iurned into an area of population dispersai, 1931-195 1." Dov Friedlander, "London's Urban Transition 185 1-195 1," Urban Srudies, ( 1974: 1 1: 127-141), 136-137. Similar arguments cm be found conceming the process of suburbanization. Exarnples include Porter, Social Hisroty of iondon. 307, and Pamcia Giuside and Ken Young, Metropoliran London: Politics and Urban Changr. 1837-1981. (London: Edward Arnold, 19821, 173ff. 26 Holy Trinity: A Parish Paper, January 1940.2, LMA. Holy Trinity: A Parish Paper, Januiuy 1940,2, LMA. The parish churches in the middle class areas of Chelsea, Kensington, Fulham, and

Paddington did experience declines in attendance at weekly Sunday services. During the war years, however, specid events within the churches, such as religious holidays and National Days of Prayer, did attract significant attendance from the community; most church registers from the parishes in question record a large increase in attendance at these events. In addition, while membership in the churches fell dnmatically due to other obligations and evacuation during the period from 1940 to 1943, attendance in churches around this area increased soon after the Blitz was over. As noted in the Christ Church, Lancaster Gate Parish Magazine, however, this was due to "the fact no doubt that there have been more people in the hotels which remain open.

Many of out own people are away from London and will not return until after the ~ar."'~What this suggests is the need to qualify the different types of attachment to the Church by individuds.

First, there were those who were merely bbdemographicallyassociated" with the Church through

infant baptism, marriage, or other significant events. Second, there were those members who

were "duly qualified persons sufficiently active in the church" and would attend occasionally,

probably at the larger events. Finally, the third group was those who were fully active in the local

church, and devoted much of their tirne to church activities; this was the goup chat kept the

church operating in difficult circumstances like the war.'O Overall, however, while there were

many who expected to be ministered to, proportionaîiy speaking there were far fewer mernbers of

the church available to minister to them.

The lack of members during the war years threatened many of the program, especially

those focused on the children of the area, that the parish churches used to minister to the

community. Many, like Sunday School, were simply closed down because there was no one left

to make use of these services. The church felt the loss of children in the community due to

n Lloyd, The Church of England, 483. " Christ Church, Lancaster Gate Parish Magazine. January 1943,5, LMA.

56 evacuations especially deeply. As the Vicar of Christ Church, Fulham noted. "We begin our church life almost without children," he wrote in January 1940, "A situation that fills us with sadness; for the children and young people of the parish were more than half of our life and work."" The loss of children, coupled with financial problems, also extended beyond Sunday school to the closure or relacation of many of the parochial schools for the duration of the war.

Many of them, in fact, would remain closed even when the children returned and the war ende~l.~~

Other organizations within the parish were also hampered by poor attendance, but did manage to rernain operating throughout the war yeas. Those that did do this were often organizations that could contribute directly to the war effort. One example of such an organization was the Church

Lads Brigade, a type of Boy Scouts, which c~ateda structure in which teenage boys could contribute to the war. The leaders of the Brigade worked in CO-operationwith the local authorities and focused their efforts on physical training, community work, parades and social events that encouraged friendly compe~ition.~~

Not ail organimtions within the parish were directed at children. Som, like the

"Mother's Union" remained in operation and used the war to encourage changes in practical ways of living. The Mother's Union in St. Barnabas. Dulwich, for example, held talks on "Our responsibility as Church ~ernbers."~'These groups were also used to share ideas of how to better deal with challenges to everyday living brought about by the blackouts and, more significantly, rationing. They published articles in the piuish magazines geared towards "Women with Homes" which included tips on washing, cooking, sewing, nuning, and other day-to-day

'O This division of types ofchurchgoers is made by Robert Che,Alan Gilbert, and Lee Horsley. Chicrches and Churchgoers: Patterns of Church Growrh in the British Mes since 1700, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977). 13. " Christ Church, Fulham Parish Magazine. Jmuary 1940, LMA. 32 One example of such a closure was the school opented by St. Mary the Bolton's piuish, which, as indicated on 17 March 1945, "would not be re-opened as Dq Schools after the war." Parochiid Church Council Minutes, 17 March 1945, LW. The schools were also often used by other, secular organizations during the wiir. This is discussed later in this cbpter. 33 Various references can be found regardhg he Brigade. One explanation of the events planned by the CLB cm be found in Sr. Mary's Mirror, Febniq 194 1, LMA. 34 Si. Barnabas Dulwich Parish Magazine. March 1940,8, LMA. aspects of living. In the Christ Church, Fulham Parish Magazine, for example, the section

"Women with Hornes" pointed out that "worn out silk underwear and stockings can be tumed into rnost effective cushions." and explained "how to Save sugar when stewing Though these organizations were severely hampered by the war effort, they rnanaged to find a way to adjust. and become supportive of the war effort by providing options for a more efficient lifestyle

in otherwise difficult circumstances.

The most popular way for the congregations of the parishes to maintain connections

during the war was the pnrish magazine. These magazines served it twofold purpose: as one vicar

explained, they were "not only the means of bringing the church to the homes of the parishioners,

[but] also in days of War, a way of keeping in touch with our people who have been evacuaied or

who are on active service at home or ~verseas."'~The parish magazine thus served as a practical

guide to dealing with the war white at the same time acting as a source of spiritual comfort to

those in the community. Often it was the most viable way for the vicar to disseminate the

religious justifications for the wu, as services were difficult to attend. And in the Face of

declining congregations, it was reinforced as the foundation of the parochial system in West

London of London.

As with other aspects of religious life in the comrnunity, the parish magazine's survivai

was jeopardized by the war itself. The financial obligations to keep it running, coupled with the

need for people to produce it, meant that keeping it in operation during the war was very difficult,

Evidence of this is the fact that most parish magazines ceased to publish in the war years, and

'' Christ Chwch, Fulham Parish Magazine, September 194 1, LMA. St. Barnabas, Dulwich Parish Moguzina. Ianuary 1940. LMA. The importance of the magazine is aiso noied in Longmie, How We Lived Then, 386. Som of the magazines were so accurate in their description of home life that ihey came under the scrutiny of the Director oîcensorship, Admiral Usborne. Mass- Observation reponed that "the Parish magazine is now censonble since 'it might help the Nazis."' A circular was sent to the parishes suung: "it has been discovered that ivms of a nature which the editors of daily newspapers have stopped publishing in their columns are appearing without resmction in church magazines (sic), and many instances have ken seen of unwitting breaches of the defence notices. An urgent request is made that those responsible for the production of church magazines should scrutinize al1 editoriai muer frum the point of view of its vdue as intelligence to the enemy ..." Mas-Observation Archive, TC Religion 2/D, Parish Magazines, March 1940, p. 4.

their days in Chelsea. And not the least joy of it ail is the fact chat from the beginning it has ken a Church and parish ~ndertakin~.~

The parish church also organized more educational entertainment for the local population. St. John's Wood, for example, established a series of "Brains Trust" meetings "for

Religious and Social ~uestions.'~'Some of those who made up the various panels included C.S.

Lewis, chaplains from occupied Europe and other significant churchmen. Overall, these sessions were very popular, filling the church to ~a~acit~.~'

While the churches in the comrnunity provided some opportunities for leisure during the war years, these undertakings were also hindered by limited finances, a lack of manpower and restrictions placed upon such events by the authorities. Christmas celebrations, for example, were curtailed, and traditional New Year's wütch night services were cancelled beginning on

New Year's Eve 1940." Other, non-holiday related activities were also cancelled. One example occurred in Christ Church, Fulham. where the vicar and parochial church council attempted to hold a church bazar in the summer of 1941. As the vicar noted, "one would like to think chat we rnight not lose that happy social time we had at the Bazaar, and it rnight be possible to get together as a congregation, conditions permitting and have quite a happy aftemoon or e~ening.'~

Despite their best efforts, however, the event did not take place because such cornrnunity-oriented events were very difficult to manage and were often discouraged by the local authorities. a Holy Triniry: A Parish Paper, January 1940, MA. An exiunple of the recommended reading lists can be found in Si. Mary the Bolton's Purish Magazine, February 1940,5, LMA. The serial, 'The Evidence of the Rose-Pink Tongue" can be found in Christ Church, Lancaster Gaie Parish Magazine, beginning in January 1940, LMA. " The Guardian, 10 September 1943,299. While these sessions shared the name of a popular BBC program, the "Brain's Trust" at SI. John's Wood did not rippear 10 have a direct connection to the radio program. In fact, the Brain's Trust heard on the BEC did not dlow for the discussion of religion, for the Board of Governers did not think it was "the appropriate setting for the discussion of religious miter. This was Iiugely the result of the failure of C.S. Lewis io avoid king 'eaten dive' by [Julian] Huxley as [Director of Religious Broadcasting] LW. Welch put it." This was in spite of the many requests by the public to discuss such matters. An alternative radio prognm called The Anvil was established to deal specifically with religious matters, but if there is my connection to the sessions at St. John's Wood, it is not clear. Wolffe. The Churches and the British Broadcasting Corporation, 1922-1956, (London: SCM Ress, 1984), 206. " As noted in "St. John's Register of Services", 20 May 1943, LMA. '3 Christ Church, Lancaster Gate Paris11Magazine, Jmy1940, LMA. Another significant obstacle that the parish church faced in maintaining its duties in the community was bound up in the finances of the parish. Parish churches were highly dependant on congregational giving and when the congregations dwindled, so naturally did the financial situation. As well, the church was now required to allocate the funds to new obligations such as repairs to church buildings damaged by the bombings. Parish magazines and council minutes frequently refer to the financial difficulties faced throughout the war years, mostly because

"collections mn a low temperature.''5 The Vicar of Christ Church Lancaster Gate noted that

"there are many calls on Our reduced income and what is left to us after taxation."* The response to a decline in funds was to close church buildings - such as the parish hall, the vicarage, and sornetimes even part of the church itself - reduce the vicw's salary and, as noted above, discontinue organimtions and traditionai communication channels with the congregation and the rest of the community.

In addition to undermining its position in this manner, the church also was unable to provide adequate assistance to those in need because of its own financial weaknesses. While giving to charities did decrease relative COpre-war giving, donations to such organimtions as the

Royal Air Force Benevotent Fund, the "Soldiers, Sailors, and Airmen's Families Association", and the British Red Cross were much larger than giving to the local church? in addition, the

Diocese of London operated an interna1 system that provided for the equal distribution of funds throughout the Diocese. Cailed the London Diocesw Fund, its purpose was to amalgamate various funds into one central, financial system ihat would provide extra assistance to the less

well off east end parishes. The natunl flow of fuiids was thus €rom west London parisks to the

Chnst Church, Fulham, Parochial Church Council Minutes, 19 June 1%1, LMA. '' Ho& Triniry: A Porish Paper, May 1940, LMA. The vicar then goes on the give an example of the change in collections: "(before Ihe war) collections ranged from ESto £30. Today they averagc £7 to f 8 gr Suidqi moming." Christ Church, Lancaster Gate, Pa& Magazine, May 1941,s. LMA. 47 Reference to these organimtions are found in the Church Service Registers of viiiudly dl the parishes, especially SI. John's Wood and SL Mary the Boltons. LMA. east end parishes, which were even worse off during the war." Moreover, as West London parishes suffered from the effects of the war, the impact was felt even more in the east end parishes. The Vicar of Christ Church, Lancaster Gate, Richard Beresford-Peirse, who was also a part of the Church cornmittee that administered the Fund, labeled the Fund's well king in 1941 as "extrernely grave. These West London churches in normal times have been the main source from which the necessary funds have come to supply the rninisuy in poorer districts and to help parochial organizarion. These parishes are now unable to contribute on the same scale as they did in pre-war daYs.'"" Five months later, he noted: "the needs of the poorer parishes are greater than ever, while at the same tirne the parishes in West London, on which the Diocesan Fun depended for large contributions, find themselves denuded of the regular members of their congregations, now away from ond don."^ Such an administrative structure strengthened the Diocese in general, but it also created more interdependency among the parishes. Consequently, when one area of the Diocese was affected, other parishes were also affected, albeit to different degrees.

The third major cornponent of the parish that was affected by the war experience was a challenge to traditional concepts of religious space and tirne. The church building was the most tangible symbol of a religious presence in the community and was often the point where the parish members and the community came together. The parish typically consisted of a number of buildings: the church. the parish hall or church house, the vicange, and sornetimes a school building as well. And while the urban parish church was not as important a reference point as the rural parish church, it still maintained a masure of importance and mystique in twentieth century

London as the symbol of a religious presence in the community. During the war, however, the parochial network of buildings came to be used for diverse purposes, rnany of them secular rather

" A full description of the London Diocesan Fund can be found in the lDndon Diocesan Book for 1940, LPL, 31-33. '9 Christ Church, Lancaster Gate, Parish Magazine, May 1941, LMA. Christ Church, Lancaster Gate, Parish Maguzine, October 194 1, LMA. th;m religious. The religious symbolism of the church building was consequently overshadowed by more utilitarian considerations.

The darnage chat church buildings sustained was detrimental to the parish's contribution to the community, for the loss of such a meeting place undermined the congregation's efforts to rninister to the comrnunity. The darnage to church structures ranged from virnially untouched, as in SC.John's Wood near Regent's Park, to practically destroyed, as in St. Mary the Bolton's. The estirnated nurnber of church structures darnaged during the war was upwards of 15,000 and in

London alone it was estimated chat in the first month of the Blitz, "about 20 churches had been totally destroyed and a further 250 more or less badly darnaged."" in addition. those buildings that were not darnaged physically were often closed because of a lack of funding. In Christ

Church, Fulham, for example, the church was darnaged slightly, while the parish hall was closed

for financial reasons. As a notice pointed out, "[tlhe hall maintains itself alrnost entirely from

hiring charges to organizers of various social activities. Since the outbreak of war this revenue

has dwindled almost to n~thing."~'In the parish of Holy Trinity, Chelsea, an incendiary bomb

struck the church in September of 1940, setting the chape1 roof ablaze and damaging the organ.

A second blow came in May 1941, when "in one of the worst incendiq raids of the whole war

the main roof and gallery were set ablaze and cornpletely destroyed.. .when the fire officiais

reached Holy Trinity, the entire roof was already in ruins, and buming timber was crashing down

and filling the nave with debri~."~'However, as the Vicar noted in the Holy Trinity, Chelsea,

Parish Magazine of September 1940: "But our own trouble is as nothing on the background of

the many other and more dreadful griefs chat have fallen on the deanery, especially in that part of

it covered by the parish of SC.~uke."" One of those negatively affected was Si. Mary the

Heip to Churches Damaged and Parishes specially Affected by the Wor, Fulham Papers, 16 October 1940, LPL. "Christ Church, Fulham Parish Magazine, April 1940.6, LMA. Notice of damage was given in Parochiid Church Council Minutes, May 1944, LMA. 53 The Church of the Hoiy Triniry: 1939-1951. (London: The Press of Shield and Spring, 1951). 7. si Holy Triniry: A Parish Paper, September 1940, LMA. Bolton's, where the pacish stmctures were systematically destroyed or closed because of financial problems. The Amtual Repon in February 1941 explained the situation: "enemy action caused considerable damage to the Church House in September, and in the following month the Church, the vicarage and the Day Schools also suffered damage."55 The next month, a notice was put up in fmnt of the church, declaring, "[bly direction of the Bishop of London given in pursuance of these regulations this Church is closed for public worship until further ~rder."'~

Even such prominent sites as Lambeth Palace, the home of the Archbishop of

Canterbury, were affected by the bombings. Archbishop Lang's chaplain, A.C. Don, noted in his diaq that the Palace was hit on 20 September 1940." The issue for church officials was consequently one of how to assess and repair the damage done to church buildings both temporarily and on a long-term basis. To this end the Bishop's War Committee set up the

Reconstruction Committee to administer the distribution of compensation, and to work with the

Central Wiu Damages Committee set up by the govemmnt.s8 Church finances alone were unable to mage such financial need, and were thus forced to become more dependant on state resources that were also king stretched to the limit. Over the long tenn, such a situation forced the Diocese of London to reevaluate and reorganize parish boundaries, reducing the number of churches that would be repaired and put back in operati~n.~~

While darnage to church structures creaied obstacles for the parish to continue to rninister to the communities, a greater issue for church officials was the increasing encroachment of the secular ont0 "sacred" land. Because church buildings were often the most sturdy and some of the largest buildings in the community, civic officials saw them as perfect spaces for

'' St. Mary the Bolton's Parish Council Minutes, Annual Report, 9 February 1941, LMA. Sb RMished in Sr. Mary's Mirror. March 1941. 1. The report stated that the closure was due io a number of factors, including damage to the property, and because "so myof the congregation (were) obliged to leave the district." " Diary of A.C. Don, 20 September 1940. LPL. sa Wilkinson, Dissent or Confonn?, 275. Frequent references to coopention with the Wiw Damages Comrnittee are made throughout the Bishop's Wiu Committee Reports, Fulham Papers, LPL. establishing their own facilities to assist the community. And while the parish often cooperated, the concem arose that the right of the Church of England to decide how to use these traditional, religious spaces was king jeopardized. This encroachrnent included, somewhat symbolically, the requisition of the railings that surrounded the churches themselves in order to use the metds in them for war measures. While this was a comrnon occurrence throughout London, the loss of

these fences exposed church lands to hirther use by those in the ~omrnunity.~"

The use of church crypts as shelters appeared to have ken a common practice in West

London, but only after much discussion by church officials over whether to allow this. It was finally agreed that churches could be put to such use only if local authorities were given permission by the vicar. This was established in an August 1939 Air Raid Precautionary circular:

It is not intended that buildings regularly used for religious worship should be used for air raid precautions purposes, and local authorities should not rnake any use for this purpose of such buildings or designate them for use in war tirne without the full agreement of the authorities responsible for them.6'

It would appear that local parish churchmen were normally very cooperative with civic officials in providing shelters to the generat public. Even Lambeth Palace provided a shelter for approximately 200-300 people during the ~litz.~'On a local level those churches that were not darnaged,fi like St. John's Wood, built reinforced shelters in their crypts with the assistance of the

local borough counci~.~~Most of the tirne the vicar also took an active role in such shelters,

staying with the people during nids and even performing services. Though the shelters were

59 More about reorganization will be &d in Chapter Three. In the case of Si. Mary the Bolton's, for example, repairs to church structures in 1940 and 1941 done totded approximately E70. The compensation to the church, on the other hand, was only £24 10s. Church Ledger, Si. Mary the Bolton's, LMA. Reference to the requisilion of railing can be found in virtually a11 of the parish records, LMA. The same argument regarding the loss of rdings has dso been used by historians to explain the opening up of many arks in London that had traditionally been the sole domain of those in the community. Air Raid Precautionary Circular 1 l9/l93% Lang Papen. LPL. 62 Diary of A.C. Don, various references in September 1940, LPL. Purcell also mentions the use of Fulham Palace, the home of the Bishop of London. ;is both a shelter and first aid station. Purcell, Fisher of Lambeih, 96ff. b3 Weeds for Air Raid Shelter", St. John's Wood, 1 September 1939, LMA. The official deed read: 'That on or about the fmt September One Thousand Nine hundred and thiiy nine, the Mayor, Alderman. and often a source of frustration, the Vicar of St. John's Wood obsewed: "1 am glad [I stayed with the people in the shelter dunng the worst bombing in London], for 1 shall never forget the calm and courage of the people under fire. 1 saw religion in action in the she~ter."~~

Church structures were used for other purposes as well, often those of a rnilitq nature.

This intensified the problem over the secular usage of Church structures, for the presence of the aned forces contravened, to some extent, Christian beliefs. The infringement on church space was pennitted, but the Bishop's War Committee often cautioned state officials that the Church held the nght to control the usage of church propeny. in a memo to various govemrnent officials in December 1939, the Cornmittee stated: "it is not reasonable to treat Church buildings on the sarne basis as commercial or privately occupied buildings. There is a good deal of loss sustained by a parish which cannot be shewn by reference to the acco~nts."~~In a letter to the Secretary of

State for War, Anthony Eden, on 16 July 1940, Fisher reiterated this point: "[a] churchyard is consecrated ground set apart by law from al1 profane and common uses for ever. Their use for rnilitary purposes cannot but be repugnant to Christian feelings and also desthem military

objective^."^^ The feeling that secular authorities were jeopardizing the integrity of church lands sornetimes even spread to disputes over the use of church cemeteries to bury ca~ualties.~~

.- . - . Councilors of the Metropolitan Borough of Si. Maryleborne.. .in the performance of the function of civil &fence consmicted two Public Air Raid Shelters in the crypts of said churches." 61 St. John's Wood Parochial Church Council Minutes, 29 January 1941, LMA. Bishop Fisher was also known to frequent the shelters, often those in the Underground stations, and minister to the people during the Blitz, In contrast, Archbishop Lang often stnyed away from the shelter at Lambeth Palace, preferring Io remain in bed because "the people (in the shelter) frighten him more than he bombs!" A.C. Don Diq,7 September 1940. Reference to Fisher can be found in Wilkinson, Dissent or Conform?, 272. 65 Bishop's War Comrnittee Minutes, 5 December 1939, Fulham Papers, LPL. 66 Fisher to Eden, 16 July 1940, Fulham Papers. LPL. " This issue wu often confined to the rurai parishes, but is indicative of the tension beiween the Church and sute officials. In a letter from Fisher to the Bishop of Bristol, concerning this mtter for example, he wrote: 'The War Comrnittee came to this conclusion yesterday: if it is a question of a few Gemans or for that matter a few of our own soldiers, they should be buried in the churchyard. If there were many, an authority, military or civil, would be in charge of buna1 arrangements. They would probably be buried in r field and the question of consecration could be dealt with afterwards. So far as chutchyards wete concerned, we thought that the incumbent ought to have regard to the rights of his own parishioners in the churchyard and if there were danger of too much space being required for casualties, he should insist thai the auhoritics must make a special arrangement such as that 1 suggested above." Fisher to the Bishop of Bristol, 1 1 July 1940, Fulham Papers, LPL. Despite the presence of a feeling of infringement, more often than not the local vicar was more than willing to cwperate with local officials who often reciproçated this cooperation. The

Air Ministry, for example, agreed that "we are willing to undertake for the future that no buildings used for church purposes, such as rectories, vicarages and church halls, shall be requisitioned without prior reference to the Bishop of the Diocese c~ncerned.'~A directive published by the Home Office stated:

[blishops should rnake plain to their Clergy that there is no objection in principle to the use of Churches as temporary shelters, aid-posts, casualty clearing stations, dormitories for the houseless, etc., but that care should be taken to ensure that even if so used they remain available for the purposes of religion, and do noi, even ternporarily, become wholly secu~arized.~~

It could be argued that the Chutch of England was in no position to refuse access to secular, governmental organizations because of its dependency on the govemment for financial assistance and because of its position as the established church in Britain. However, it would appear that the relationship was less one of subordination to local officials than one of increased cooperation. The war was a cause, as pointed out in the first chapter, that the Church finnly supponed; as a result churchmen were willing to make sacrifices despite the danger they posed to the long term outlook of the relationship between church and state.

The result of this cooperative relationship was that church structures were used for a number of purposes in West London. Some vicarages and parish halls were used as first aid posts; this was the case in St. Mary the Bolton's, where the Wornen's Voluntary Service was allowed to use the Church Hall for first aid roorns." Others were used to house local troops, as was the case in St. John's Wood, where Royal Air Force rented the church house for accommodation and training purposes.7' Generaliy, it would appear that churches were successful in preventing the installation of amed troops or defense posts on their ptemises, but this was most likely because

Air Ministry to Fisher, 20 May 1941, Fdhiun Papen, LPL. Memorandum on The Clergy in Wartime, March 1939, Home Office 186/1450,6, PRO. 'O St. Mary the Bolton's Annual Church Meeting, 12 April 1943. LMA. " "Agreements belween Church and RAF' April 1944, St. John's Wood. MA.

67 the threat of invasion abated before that could happen. There were numerous other examples of the secular uses of church structures and property, but virtually al1 of them fall into the above noted categories. The demarcation between the secular and the religious thus continued to become increasingly ambiguous.

The debate over the increased usage of church space by secular authorities was further enhanced by the temporal challenges the Church faced. Even when there was a physical place to worship and rninistrr to the people, the cime available to perform such religious duties was difficult to obtain. This was the result of two major obstacles: the increased disruption to services caused by air raids and wiunings of air raids and the intrusion of new activities on traditional

Sunday rituals brought about by the increased demands on the public during the week.

The disruption of church services and other religious activities began on the very first day of the war, Sunday 3 September, 1939, when many services were cancelled due to air raid warnings that occurred right after Neville Chamberlain had broadcast the Declaration of ~ar.~'

From this point forward, frequent references are found in the church service registers of the various parishes about the disruptive nature of air raid warnings and the air raids themselves. In coopention with government officiais, an official procedure was adopted by the Church and posted on Church bulletin boards and in parish magazines: "[iln the event of an Air Raid Waming during a service, one of the clergy should rit once infonn the people that they are free to leave the church if they so desire, without any fear chat irreverence is king shown ....If members of the congregation cannot reach home or a public shelter within Cive minutes, they rnay remain in the church, where the service will be continued if possible ....This instruction is issued after

consultation with the Home

While those who made it to church were looked after, the very task of getting to church

on tirne on Sunday was often difficult in itself. ûebris left over from ovemight raids and

" One such occurrence is referred to in Si. John's Wood Church Service Register, where it was noted, "service discontinued after prayer because of Air Raid Warning." 3 September 1939, LMA. restrictions placed on those moving about, including fuel restrictions, often made it hard to get to church. As one Mass-Observer found out, "Paddington, at church time, was a mass of hose- pipes. People were crowding at corners, gazing at darnage, at least one fire was still buming; many roads were impassable. Under these conditions this cannot be considered a normal n un da^."'' In addition to these difficulties, blackout restrictions often led to the cancellation of services or the rescheduling of others, especially in the evening. Knowing when church was actually going to start provided a further challengeq7'

In addition to the physical challenges of attending church services, the demands on people's time frorn other facets of society further undermined the opportunities to attend. In the same way that the religious was corning into contact with the secular in terms of spatial representation, tirne was also becoming a precious comrnodity for which different aspects of society, including the religious, had to compete. The challenge of motivating people to attend church services had its roots in the intenvar period, and was further complicated by the advent of the radio service during this time period. People could now worship at home, an attractive alternative when it was so difficult to get to the church itse~f.'~Moreover, the demands of war meant chat Sundays were not always days off, thereby undermining the British concept of a

"traditional Sundayl*which often included the incorporation of religious obser~ance.~The most frequent challenges to time came from Home Guard obligations, classes run by the London

County Councii and work requirements. This infringement was of serious concern to churchmen like Fisher, who engaged in frequent correspondence with govemment officials. In a letter to the

London County Council, Fisher expressed his displeasure that "the LCC institutes this endeavor

------St. Mary the Bolton's Parish Magazine, October 1939, LMA. 74 Mass-Observation FR 693 'Paddington Church Count', November 194 1, 1. '' Longmate, How We Lived Then. 386. "Henry Pelling, Britain und the Second World War, (London: Collins, 1970), 135-6. See also Kenneth M. Wolfie, The Churches and the British Broadcasting Corporation. Mass-Observation FR 1268 'The Traditional English Sunday," May 1942. to monopolize for their staff and students Sunday mmings and afternoon~."'~in a letter to the

Prime Minister's Office a few months later, Fisher noted: "we are disturbed by the increasing invasion of Sundays by various secular ~r~anizations."'~And while this was reluctantly accepted in the short term, the fear of church officials was that "once things established themselves, it would be difficult to reclaim Sunday as a &y of religion."80

While secular officiais were generally sympathetic towards the infringement of services on Sundays, the reality of the situation was that there was really no other acceptable alternative. in a reply to Fisher, the Prime Minister's Office noted: "(a] general appeal to the country about employers giving facilities for Sunday observance would have my syrnpathy, but there are inevitable difficulties in wanime and it is not an appeal which should be lightly launched without consideration of its form, nature and occasion."81 On a local level, classes and Home Guard parades continued to be held, despite the belief that "Sundays should be protected completely.""

Furthemore, as Home Guard officials argued in response to the criticism from the Church:

"perhaps it may be said too, that Home Guard church parades are very often held and have no doubt been instrumental in bringing men to Church who would not otherwise have gone the~e."~~

Overall, there appeared to be a consensus that although the current state of affairs was unfortunate, there was little that could be done to alter it. As a result, it became necessary for the

Church to accept these limitations on the time available for public worship, as it was in the best interest of the nation's war effort.

Although there were increased limitations on availability, there were those who continued to attend church tegularly, and mruiy who believed tbat religious observance was an integral part of the "traditional" Sunday. For those who went ta the service, the disruptions caused by air raids

Fisher to Mr. E.G. Savage, Director of Education. London County Cauncil 17 October 1940. Fulahm Papers, LPL. 79 Fisher to Prime Minister, 12 Mmh 1941, Fulhm Papen. LE%. " Fisher to Archbishop Lang. 27 Febniary 1941, Fulhm Papers, LPL. Prime Minister's OfFife to Fisher, 22 March 1941, Fulham Papers, LPL. 8Z Savage to Fisher. 8 April 1941, Fulham Papen, LPL. and wamings were quickly ignored. Church service registers, for example, indicate rhe transformation of people's attitudes towards the bombings. in St. John's Wood the registrar's observations progressed from "service discontinued", to "Air Raid - sorne people went home", to "Air Raid - nobody left the service." Air raids soon became just another disruption and were often equated with problems like the weather.@ The community learned to adjust to religious

observance, just like it learned to adjust to the changing environment.

It is also apparent that, despite the encroachment of secular activities, most of the

population did not wish to see a change in traditional notions of what Sunday representd.

Interestingly, Mass-Observation found that "the importance of religion in people's actual Sunday

routine now is slight, but the importance of religion in peoples' attitude to the tnditional Sunday

is much more considerable. The religious associations of Sunday, as opposed to the religious

observances, play an important part in peoples' feelings about Sunday no^."'^ The traditional

Sunday was steeped in routine and the feeling that it should somehow be different from any other

day; thus its association with religious observance. As a result, even during the war "there (was)

considerable disapproval of the present compromise-Sunday, particularly of the fact that cinemas

can open and theatres cannot and various similar apparent anomalies."" The report's conclusion

was that "[ojn the whole, the genenl inference is that the secularization of Sunday haproceeded

to about the most generally acceptable point, though there are many exceptions."87 This

contradictory position limited what the secular authorities could do, but also did not change che

compromised position of the religious institutions and their assaciation with a "speciai" day. The

result was one that neither could fully accept.

The situation by the end of the peciod 1940-1942 for the Church of England was

consequently a precarious one despite the virtual cessation of bombing by the Germans. The war

83 Directonte, Home Guâtd to Fisher 19 May 1941, Fulham Papers. LPL. * Various examples from Si. John's Wood Church Service Register, LMA. Mass-Observation FR1268 'The Traditional English Sunday' May 1942.2. 86 Mass-Observation FR1268 'The Traditionai English Sunday' May 1942'2. re-inforced the shift in power in the community to secular organizations and their activities, and placed the parish in a challenging position. However, it is an overstatement to declare the parish church as ineffective in the community during (and after) this time. Not unlike the rest of the community, it faced a number of difficulties during the first few years of the war, but continued to do what it could to assist those in society who were also affected by the war. The war exacerbated existing problems in the Diocese of London, while at the same tirne generating new ones that the Church would be forced to face in the final yeius of the war and after. The war also

revealed the traditional difficulties faced by the urban parochial system. such as the plurdity of

loyalties caused by the constant change in the people that it ministered to. Vicar Cheshire of

Holy Trinity, Chelsea, encapsulated the situation best early on in the war:

the congregation has practically vanished, the schools are void. our organizations are al1 closed down, and the parish has becorne for the most part one vast camp with troops quartered in many of the many hundreds of empty flats and houses. In the twinkling of an eye. chat is, the fonner order of things has come abiuptly to an end.R8

New relationships had developed, and the Church of England was forced to face the

changing dynamics between Church and State and Church and community. The assertion of

mysociologists and historias, however, that the community in London during the war was

entirely secularized is not a completely accurate description of the situation. The parish church

maintained an attachrnent to the cornmunity, and the local population, if not as fully committed to

religious observance as it once had ben, appeared to rit least recognize the valuable role that the

Church of England could play in maintaining a sense of order and assistance in society. Further,

as E.R. Norman points out, the war forced the Church to cake a new, more realistic approach to

social problems in the Church, which my have further strengthened its identity with the

comm~nit~.~~Many of the consequences and effects of the war on both religious belief and the

* Mas-Observation FR1268 'The Traditionai English Sunday' May 1942.3. " Holy Triniry: A Parish Paper, October 1939,7. 89 E.R. Norman. Church and Society in England 1770-1970: A Historical Study. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976),364. Church of England's social practices in the cornrnunity had a long-tem impact on the relationship between the parish church and the community. Throughout the Second World War, a focus on the character of post war society was on the minds of rnany throughout British society.' Many contemporaries identified a need to radically redefine the implications and consequences of the war experience. Whether radical change occurred and to what extent, however, has been the focus of lively historical debate. In the context of that discussion, the contrast between intellectual expectations and the reality of the post war years has been a crucial issue in contemporary British social history. Traditionally, the idea has ken advanced by historians such as Arthur Marwick and Angus Calder that Britain underwent a "revolution" because of the war, ushering in an age of consensus among the classes.'

This argument has been challenged by more ment historians who point out that white the war effort promoted change in post-war Britain in terms of political change, the attitudes and

traditional frameworks of British society ~rnainedfirmiy in place. Jose Harris and David

Cannadine, for example, have argued that the war brought about an increasing desire by many in

Britain to see society return to normal after the war was over. The level of change, therefore, did

not meet the expectations of those who had planned and hoped for a more positive future.'

' While thinking about the future of British society existed throughout the war. it becme especially significant after the British victory at El Alamein in 1943. It was at that point that the focus turned from a "defensive" outlook to an "offensive" outlook, incorponting different expectations of the future. It was also the point, as Arthur Manvick poinis aut, that "the pend of discussion and convoversy gave place to a period of concrete government proposais, served up in the form of White Pauers." Arthur Marwick, Briiain in the Century of Total War, (Toronto: Atlantic Monthly Press, i%8), 3 14. Arthur Miuwick, Class: lmage and Aeality in Britain, France and the USA since 1930, (London: Collins, 1980). 213ff; and Angus Calder, The People's Wur: Britain 1939-1945, (London: Jonathon Cape, 1969). Marwick describes the process as "the rnix of real change from klow engendered by the war. with attitudes and images at the top rooted in the past." Marwick, Class, 220. Calder has since reevaluated his approach in The Myth of the Blitz, (London: Jonathon Cape, 199 l),in which he argues that the idea that the war brought unity to the people of Britain is not an accurate picture. Raiher, he argues. it was a myth developed by media and those in charge in order to maintain order in society. ' One of the best ovewiews of the hisioriography of this debate is found in Kenneth Morgan, The People's Peace: British History 1945-1989, (Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1990). Chapter One. The most common theme that pervades this argument is the effect that the war had on the traditional clas system in Britain. David Cannadine, for exiunple, sepantes redity from the maintenance of existing perceptions in this regard. He argues that any change visible in the post-war enwas "in substance, not in perception. How far the popular ways of looking at it and thinking about it (class) changed is open to question." David Cannadine, Class in Brirain, (London: Yale Univesi~yPress, 1998), 144. A similac argument is found in Jose Harris, "War and Social History: Britain and the Home Front during the Second World War," Conremporary European History, I(1992): t7-35. Tom Hartisson of Mass-Observauon argues that "the The purpose of this chapter, then, is to analyze the ideas conceming the refonn of the

Church of England and the realities of preparing for post-war reconstruction, within the context of this greater argument. The changing dynamic between the Church and the community in West

London will be analyzed using two examples: parochial reorganization and the refom of religion's role in public education. The Church had been affected during the first half of the war, particuiarly by the bombings of London, and, as a result, had ken forced to focus predominantiy on short-term issues. Historians and contemporaries have often xgued that because of this the

Church, despite its best intentions, was il1 prepared and too broken by the war to be tmly able to face the pst war world. Financial problems and the physical damage wrought by the war, combined with a lack of proper leadership and a manpower shortage, are the main points often advanced in support of this notion. In addition, it was argued, Britain had not undergone a religious revivd during the wu, but rather haâ becorne completely secularized because of the precarious position of the Church during the war. Consequently there was very littie desire and even less expectation by the community in general that the Church of England would be a key cornponent in the cornmunity &ter the war ended and normalcy returned.'

war changed some ideas and habits, in the long-term. ihough, probably no1 so many or so much as had been supposed. ... Socially, those changes made necessary by living ihrough thc Blitz were nearly al1 transitory, to meet inconveniences, tensions, suwival needs. Once the pressure pmsed, the survival value vanished, these were easily discarded." Tom Harrison, Living Through the Blitz, (London: Collins, 1976). 3 14. These historians do acknowledge thai the eiection of the Labour Party, and the war itself. wns indeed the sign of some type of4'politicalrevoiution*', but argue that it did not imply changes in classconsciousness, and the rise of n radical "revolutionary" phase in British society. Paul Addison, for example, argues that "World War II saw the reformaiion of Briiih politics for a generaiion io corne." However, he ad&, "it implied only very rnodest change in society itself." hul Addison, The Roud ro 19.15: British Politics and the Second World War, (London: Cape, 1975). Eric Hopkins also notes that the Labour Pany after the war was not prone t radical movements, and was additionally resirained by the economic situation. Eric Hopkins, The Rise and Decline of the Englislr Working Classes 1918-1990: A Social History, (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1991), 88ff. Kenneth Morgan, fînalty, also argues that the desire for socid change was as much "nastalgic" as it was forwmd looking; "[s]ociai change would result in the old order and shbiIiiy king retained. Morgan, The PeopkS Peace, 28. Also see Peter Clarke, Hope and Glory: Briiain 1900-1990, (London: Penguin, 1990), 197. 'Calder, The People's War, 550ff. Calder acmally iugues that the Church had already lost iis inftuence in the community, and thai the war simply "made matters wone than ever." Manvick follows a similar line by arguing that even before the war "reveaied religion had already been deihroned: it could fail no further." Marwick, Briin in the Century ofTotal Wor, 300. Mas-Observation found ihat "only one person in ten actuaHy visualized religion taking a big pûrt in the world iûter the war, but between iwo ;uui a half and three iimes that number would definitely welcome it if religion were to play a more important part in the While it was tme that the Church of England faced some cntical challenges to its infrastructure during the early years of the war that challenged its place in society, the evolution of the Church's preparation for the end of the war was still integrated with the efforts of the rest of the community. The war experience had not led to radical change of British society, but had reinforced traditional notions of what constituted the ided society in Britain. The Church of

England, as a part of this framework, was no different. The Church and its clergy, therefore, did not lose its connection to the community, therefore, but in sorne ways had that connection strengthened by the recognition that it needed to redefine its place in British society in order to maintain some measure of effectiveness. Moreover, both the clergy and lay members of the

Church did not neglect this aspect of society during the war, but were acuiely aware of the need to reevaluate and reestablish the Church's role in the comrnuniiy to ensure the tme meaning of what it was to be "English". important figures like William Temple, George Bell, Geoffrey

Fisher, C.S. Lewis and T.S. Eliot, for example, wrote popular works on the subject that reached well beyond Church of England circles. These were integrated into a more "popular" view of the future of British society as a whole that wris based on an idealistic retum to a society hedon the past while recognizing the new order of psi-war so~iet~.~As Alan Wilkinson argues, "the church thought about the nature of post-war society as well as acting as a guardian of national mernory.**

life of the community." Mass-Observation, "Religion and the People," Mass-Observation File Report Series, Mass-Observation Archive. I May 1943,9. The two most prominent examples are the Penguin Specials written by William Temple, Chrisriuni- und Social Order, (New York: knguin Books, 1942). and George Bell, Christianity and World Order. Middlesex, England: Penguin Books. 1940). Both held enormous rippeal ihroughout British society. ER. Norman, for example, noies ihat Chrisiianiry and Sociul Order's Unportance lay not in irs originality - for Temple offered nothing he had not been saying for years - but in its reservations and ciiutiousness, and in ils national appeal. Over 140,000 copies were sold, and the main assumpiions of 'Christian Sociology' were handed down 10 levels of the Church and of educated society they hnd not reached before." E.R. Norman, Chvrch andSmiery in Englond 1770-1 970: A Hhorical Study, (Oxford: Clvendon Press, 1976), 367. Alan Wilkinson, Dksent or Conform? Wur, Peace and the Ehglish Churches 1900-1945, (London: SCM Press, 19S6), 28 1. In addition to the anticipation of the wiu's ending within the Church, there also appeared to be a desire throughout the community, in various degrees, to reaffirm religion's role in society.

This was because many felt the moral framework of religion could provide the public with a conceptual framework with which to address postwar issues. In an editorial published in The

Times very early in the war, for example, the editor emphasized chat "more than before it lias become clear that the healthy life of a nation must be based on spiritual principles. For many years we have been living on spiritual capital, on traditions inherited from the past, instead of providing for the future."' in addition. Iay churchmen such as C.S. Lewis, T.S. Eliot and Dorothy

Sayers began to look ahead to a re-ordering of society, preferring to view the war as an opporhmity to "remake" British society with Christian principles king the foundation once

again.'

Thus. the Church of England's relationship to the community was bound up in a tension

between nostalgie views of religion's role in British society, and a recognition chat the old order

had passed? What appeared to have changed was the redefinition of what "religion" represented

so it could be more pragmatic in communal affairs and could better address the reality of the pst

war era. A more conservaiive church that reiterated the spiritual principles of Christianity under

the auspices of their usefulness had thus replaced the more liberal, theoretical nature of the

interwar and early war years.'O This newfound desire to reiterate the utilitarian position of

Christianity helped it maintain a relevancy in the cornmunity. This was the ovemding theme in

Church thought, as summed up in a staternent by the Archbishop of York, Cyril Garbett: 'The

- - - - 7 The Times, 17 Februyy 1940,9. This editorial resulted in a great deal of correspondence on this issue, most of it in suppan of the notion that religious ideds nceded to play a bigger role in post-wiu Brihn, as they did in the Britain of the past. Keith Robbins, "Brimin, 1940 and Christian Civilimion," Derek Beales and Geoffrey Best ed., History, Society and the Churches: Essays in Honor of Owen Chdwick, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985: 279-300), 281-282. This was noted in an article in The Church Times: "Wheneverand however the wu ends, the post-war world will be something very difierent from the world of 19 14 or the world of 1939." The Church %es, 2 Februiuy 1940.78. Church has not only a right but a duty to declare the principles of tnie social life."" Such statements reveal the principles chat motivated the Church of England churchrnen (and women) during the latter half of the war and into the immediate postwar years.

Perhaps the most symbolic event of the shift to a more traditional perspective within the

Church of England was the appointment of Geoffrey Fisher, Bishop of London, to the position of

Archbishop of Canterbury in early 1945. The previous Archbishop, William Temple, was arguably the most respected and well-known Archbishop of the twentieth century. He was also the most radical in his thoughts, a proponent of a left wing, socialist approach to society and the

Church's role within it. For many contemporaries, as Roger Lloyd argues, his untimely death in

1944 after only two years in office, was originally perceived as a disaster, for many within the

Church had "corne to rely on him, and aimost on him alone, to lead the Church into a better future. All of a sudden their world seemed to be empiied of ~omfort."'~The impact of his death was noticeable throughout the entire Church structure, right down to the parish church. in the

Holy Trinity, Chelsea, Purish Magazine for example, the vicar proclaimed his death as

"calamitous: not to the Church of England only, but to the nation, and to Christendom throughout

the world. Seldom, if indeed ever, bas England had a greater Archbishop of Canterbury, for

William Temple covered so great and so diverse a ground."'3

While the shock of his unexpected death was indeed a setback for the Church, the beneftt

of hindsight has allowed historians to speculate anew on the effectiveness of Temple in the post-

war atmosphere. While many moud the death of an individual more inclined to a radical

platfonn of Church reform, historians like Lloyd and E.R. Norman have argued that though his

death was unforninate, Temple's perspectives on British society would have been ill-suited for

'O Calder writes of a witer in a theological journal who "pointed out how paradoxical it was thar 'the older men are to a greater or lesser degree liberals, while the younger are demanding a retum to dogma." Calder, The People's War, 55 1. " Mass Observation, FR 1525 "Reconstruction V: Religion and the Future," December 1942, p. c. l2 Roger Lloyd, The Church ofEngiand: 1900-1965. (London: SCM hess, 1966). 460. 13 Holy Trinity: A Parish Paper, Novemberiûecember 1944, LMA. the tealities of the pst-war atrnosphere and the Church of England's resmcturing at the time; and this despite the Labour Party coming to power. Lloyd points out that "[tlhe passage of cime enables us to see now what could hardly be seen then, that in fact the train of his powers had already run into its natural terminus. He had already corne to the very edge of dl pos~ibilit~."'~

Norman elabontes on the "cleansing" effect Temple's death may have had on the Church in

1944. He quotes Hensley Henson, one of Temple's contemporaries, at the time of his death: "1 could not but reflect on the Archbishop's good fortune, on king called away precisely ai the juncture when popular hopes were fresh and full. before the chill of reaction had chastened enthusiasm. and the exasperation of disillusionment had replaced the exultation of succe~s."'~

Overall, Norman surmises, the prevailing tendency to retum to a more conservative outlook throughout British society meant chat "(Temple) died just as some of his ideas were about to be recognized as obso~ete."'~Such an argument is further developed by Adrian Hastings, who notes chat this turn within the Church of England was the result of the gradua1 realization of rnany of the radical churchrnen's goals, such as the publication of the Beveridge Report and the establishment of the welfare state. "If there was a clerical radicalism in previous decades," he observes, "its programme - other than chat of a handful of unrepresentative eccentrics - seemed now essentidly achieved."17 Furthermore, the lack of a "radical" position arnong churchmen was

"one of circumstance and mood. Clerical radicals had campaigned over the years for a massive attack on unemployment and bad housing; they had called for the nationalization of certain key industries and for better social security. These things were now king taken in band,""

'' Lloyd, The Church of England, 460. lSE.R. Nomn, Church and Society in England 1770-1970, A Hisiorical Study, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976), 37 1. l6 Norman, Church and Society in England, 370-37 1. " Adnan Hastings, A History of English Chrisiianiry 1920-1990, (London: SCM Press, 1991), 422. ''Hastings, A History of English Chrisrianity. 423. The left-wing perspective of clencal radicalism was also undetmineci by a new distrust of communism, due to the growing visibility of the Soviet Union, and the beginning of the Cold War. The effect of the "challenge of Communism abroad conuibuting "to a conservative hardening of the ecclesiastical line at home," is also found in Hastings, A History of English Christiunity, 424. The most poignant example OP the realimtion of Temple's, and many inter-war churchmn's, goals was the Beveridge Repon that was published in 1942. The Repon, which called for the greater provision of sociai services and full employment to continue after the war was over, was not the direct result of a greater, religious purpose, and was not "undergirded by any elaborate theological f~undation."'~However. it was indirectly connected by the premise that to give "the brocherhood and sisterhood of dl rnankind" purpose through the provision of a better life was to "lead to the fatherhood of ~od."'' There was a further, more direct connection between Beveridge and the Church: both he and Temple had gone to Balliol College in Oxford, and had developed sirnilar perspectives on the state of British society." Much of the platform that was developed by these men was fulfilled in the Beveridge Report, thereby transforming them into supporters of the government rather than in their normal position as critics.

When considered in the context of the war that was corning to an end, the appointment of the former Bishop of London, Geoffrey Fisher, does not seern so uncharacteristic. The process of

Fisher's appointment, however, was not without controversy owing to two factors: the lapse in

tirne between Temple's death and Fisher's coming io power; and the Prime Minister, Winston

Churchill, overlooking Bishop George Bell, a more radical figure in the Church, as a result of his

criticisms of the govemment towards the end of the war. Temple died on 26 Ocrober 1944, yet

Fisher was not appointed until 2 January 1945, a span of over two monihs, and not enthroned until three months later. For most churchmen, this was unacceptable, with rnany equating it to "a

l9 Robbins, "Briiain, 1940 and 'Christian Civilizalion,"' 298. ?O Robbins, "Briiain, 1940 and 'Christian Civilizalion,"' 298. Beveridge claimed to be of no religious fdh, but his upbnnging suggesis that he did have a Unimian background, and was thus familias with the principles of Christianity. Jose Harris observes that hughout his life "fBeveridge's] own inclination was for a religion ihat would combine scientific credibility with a philosophy of good works." He was also of the opinion that "Jesus Christ 'was one of the greatest personalities in human history - wiih a greatness the more impressive because it had to be seen through the eyes of very ordin;iry men'; and he rejected the certainties of dogrnatic atheism as 'untenable' and 'absurd."' Jose Hiuris, William Beveridge: A Biogmphy, (Oxford: Clarendon Press. 1997). 65. " This circle included Beveridge, Temple, R.H.Tmey, Richard Denman, Arthur Pickard-Cambridge, and many oihers. Harris, William Beveridge, 12. The greatest difference between Temple and Beveridge was that Beveridge did not "assume that 'every good man is necessarily and unconsciously a Christian"' as Temple did. Harris, William Beveridge, 65. Govemment without a Mme ~inister."~Historians have never adequately explained the Rasons why there was such a delay. Perhaps the most common reason given for the delay was that it was

"a moment in history when the Prime Minister might reasonably have felt d& by the amount of business which crowded daily upon him."" It is also likely that appointing a new Archbishop was not high on Churchill's list of priorities, partly because "he knew little about the Church of

~n~land.""More clear is the reason why Bell, the most prominent member of the Church after

Temple, was not considered for the job. Bell's contemporaries fidy believed thu it was his speeches criticizing the retaliatory bombing tactics of the Royal Air Force on German cities that did not leave him in good standing with the Prime Minister. Consequently, he was barely considered for the position.3

Whatever the circumstances, the enthronement of Fisher as Archbishop on 19 Apnl 1945 was a quiet, understated affair, and typical of Fisher's way of doing ~hin~s.'~While it was tme that Fisher was indeed more conservative, this is not to sriy that he was not suited for the job, nor that he did not desire refonn within the Church specifically and in British soçiety generaily.

Fisher was, in Hastings view, the "most Anglican archbishop of this century", for he was bom and raised in a rigid Anglican setting" He also entered office at one of the most unique moments in history. One of his biographers, William Purcell. argues that "tilt is surely doubtful if any of his predecessors had ever faced anything quite like the situation, at home and abmad, which

" Archbishop of York, Cyril Garbeit. quoted in Lloyd, The Church of England, 463. '3 Lloyd, The Church of England. 463. Lloyd, The Church of England, 463. Lloyd, The Church of England, 463-464.William Purcell, Fisher's biographer, notes "iliere is no doubt that (Bell's) speeches on the war had destroyed his chances of succeeding IO the Primacy (of Archbishop of Canterbury). Dr. A.C. Don. who had been Lang's chaplain at Lambeth, wrote in his diary, 'The Prime Minister admires courage and deplores indiscretion; and George has been both courageous and indiscreet in his speeches about the war." Purcell, Fisher of Lombeth: A Portrait from Ufe, (London: Hodder and Stoughton. 1%9), 109. l6 Lloyd, Tlie Church of England, 465. For more on the chmctenstics and views of Fisher see also the inuoduction of this Ihesis. His successor as Bishop of London, Henry Montgomery Campbell, labeled Fisher the "humble shepherd ....He had not lost a fnend (while in London), or made an enemy. That, all things considered, was in itself no sdlachievement." Quoted in William Purcell, Fisher oflanibeth, 11 1. " Hastings, A History of English Chrisrianiry, 436. Fisher had before him."m Fisher was well suiied for this experience, though, for he was adept at cornmittee work and enjoyed undertaking the mundane tasks that were necessary in order to cebuild the Church, both literally and figuratively. Alan Wilkinson points out that "Fisher distrusted emotion and saw life as a series of fascinating crossword puzzles awaiting solution.. ..Instinctively he identified with those in authority and therefore usually gave dissenten short ~hrift."'~As Hastings points out, "Fisher hdnther liitle interest in social or political issues and was clearly no radical; though he was capable on occasion of adrninistering a headmasterly rebuke to govemment - as he did over ~uez."'' Fisher was aiso already in touch with the major issues that the Church faced; his experience as the Bishop of London forced him to confront them before he came to be the Archbishop. This also may have contributed to his outlook, for he was forced in rnany ways to be more realistic about reform than the more philosophical Temple had been.

Fisher's more conservative perspective on reform both influenced and reflected the attitudes prevalent throughout the Church structure towards the end of the war. 'The social role of the Church in the age of Fisher," Hastings argues, became "confimtory, a very great deal more than it was c~nfrontatory."~'And it appeared that this was the appropriate path of action considering the climate of the postwar years. Hastings argues that, in hindsight, "it may well have seerned that the Church was right after dl to dodge any more radical masures of post-war reform. It had not been needed." The leadership of the Church, under the "unquestiontxi mastery which Fisher exercised in these years," hd rezstablished confidence quite effectively without it?*

It was under this new leadership with this new perspective that the Church met the end of the European war in May 1945. As London churches prepared for V-E Day, they took into

'' Purcell, Fisher of iurnbeth, 1 17. '9 Wilkinson, Dissent or Conform?, 308. " Hastings, A History ofEnglish Chrisrianiry, 423. 3' Hastings, A Hislory of English Christiunity, 424. consideration the secular celebrations chat were going on as well. To this end, the Bishops' War

Cornmittee began to draft confidential plms for a Post-War National Day to complemnt secular celebrations." Such a Day entailed "Victory Thanksgiving" services on 12 May, the first Sunday after the end of the war was declared, which many west London churches participated in.w The desire of churchmen was to both support and balance the perspectives presented by the more raucous celebrating of the general Church leaders, from Fisher to the local clergymen, however also emphasized that with the victory came responsibility; there was a need to take the consequences of the war very seriously. in a sermon a the Victory Celebration on 12 May 1945.

Fisher stated:

And so we can cake the masure of the work and responsibility which victory brings to us. The warfare is not over, far from it. Man's nature king what it is, in a state of civil war between self and God, temporal desires and eternal truth - warfare remains. But we have corne to a moment when, if ever, men and nations can go for~ard?~

The subdued nature of the Church conceming the responsibilities of victory was further enhanced by the relative uncertainty of what the future held for Britain and the world alike. This was already king emphasized in 1943, and had its roois in the desire to prevent a repeat of the end of World War one?' In a Ministry of Information circular, on behalf of the

'' Hastings, A Hisros, of English Christianiry. 447. 33 Bishops' War Commitiee Minutes, 5'' 6' July 1944, LPL. One such service is noted in the Church Service Register of St. John's Wood, 13" May 1945. LMA. Other parishes to undertake such a service include Christ Church, Fulham and Holy Trinity, Chelsea. They dl appeared to be very well aitended. '' It should be noted that the majority of the population in Britain planned to celebrate the end of the war in a more subdued fashion. A survey by Mass Observation found that 34 percent of those questioned planned to stay home, 6 percent had to work, 27 percent made no plans, and only 27 percent planned to reaily celebraie. Conversely, only 6 percent planned to attend church. Mass Observation FR 2227, "Post-Easter Peace Questionnaire," April 1945, p. 3. In a Gallup poli in April 1945, the pollsters asked: "how do you propose to spend the first day of peace?Of those suweyed, only 18 percent responded that they planned to "celebrate" and "get drunk." 25 percent planned to "relax" and watch ihe celebntion. 19 percent planned to spend it "like any other day," 16 percent planned ro spend it "giving thanks," and 8 percent planned to spend it quietly with family. George H. Gallup ed., The Gallup Intemotional Public Opinion Polls Great Britain, 1937-1975, Volume One: 1937-1964. (New York: Riindom House. 1976), 108. 36 Sermon at Victory Celebration, 12" May 1945, LPL. " Morgan also notes that a prevention of the situation in the 1930s was aiso desired. In reference to the 1945 election, he argues: 'The election was fought in a mood of 'never again' amongst electors who sought Religions Division, it was noted that though there was a confidence in "uultimate victory", the

"uncertainty of the value of victory if and when achieved" created an "unfavavourable influence" on the general public. Some of the uncertainty, it was argued, revolved around the following questions: "[w]ill communism win in Europe? Are depression and unemployment inevitable?

Will harvest of hatred be unavoidab~e?"~~It was this type of war weariness, along with misgivings about the nature of the funire "peace", that encouraged a more reserved approach among the entire community to the end of the war and a recognition of the seriousness of the responsibilities of victory that came with it.

While the Church addressed the end of the war in more spiritual terms, it also was faced with tangible problems, including physical damage and the effects of demobilization. Churches throughout London, including in the western sections, continued to be damaged in the latter years of the war, mostly by "fiying bombs" (the V-1 and V-2 rockets specifically). Some examples of this are found in the church minutes of various parishes in the area: including Holy Trinity,

Chelsea; SI. John's Wood, where it was noted that "thirteen flying bombs fell near the church and that St. John's House was hit"; and Si. Mary the Bolton's, where casualties as a result of the

bombs were n~ied.'~in total, 2 416 V ls and 5 18 V2s stmck the city of London from 1944 to the

end of the ~ar.~

Even though much of West London was feeling the bmnt of the "little Blitz", plans were

already being drawn up for the temporary and permanent repair of those church structures already

damaged or destroyed. According to Hastings, "restoration was, quite inevitably, an important

activity of the pst-war Church," an activity that "took up a very great ded of time and mental

guarantees that the unemployment, stagnation and defeatism of ihe thirties would not return." Morgan, The People's Peace, 28. 38 ïNF 11414, "Home Policy." 1943, PRO. '' Al1 hree references €rom LMA. " Richard Tiunuss, Problem of Social Policy. (London: His Majesty's Smtionery OHice and Longmans, Green and Co.. 1950), 556. energy in the next fifteen years.'"" One might also add that it took a great deal of financiai hardship on the part of the parishes to do so as well. Much of the repair work was paid for through cooperation with state authorities, most specifically the War Damages Commission and the local borough councils, or by the borrowing of "a large sum of money." This was, obviously, not an ideal situation for the Church, but the only one seerningly available to it.J2 Such a problem also forced the issue of parochial re-organization (discussed later in this chapter), for the Church had to be selective in which buildings it would repair, and which it would do away with,J3

In addition to those church buildings that were physically affected by the war, there were others ihat were still inhabited by secular organizations; this rernained so even after the war ended. Right up to the end of the war, the use of these buildings was an issue, as noted in the minutes of the various Church and parochial committees." The overall effect of the loss of buildings, due to physical damage or otherwise, to the Church was noted in a Ministry of information memo:

[tlhe widespread damage to church property in Great Britain has affected the outward organization of the Church with a challenge perhaps greater than any since the industrial revolution. For the time being, ai least, the Church's resources in "plant" have been very seriously reduced, although even very disasters are leading to new experiments in CO-operationand adaptation which may bear fruit in the future.J5

In addition to the physical repair necessq in the parish, the influx of returning soldiers and others involved in the war. occasioned by demobilization and the return of rnany evacuees, created an additional problem. As life in the parish and the community returned to normal, the recognition that the Church would have to refocus to reintegrate these people back into the church

Hastings, A History of English Christianity, 424. St. Mary the Bolton's Church, for example. was not npaired until twelve yem after the wiu was over. David Gresham, The Story of Operation Restoratioti ublisher unknown, 1950), LMA. '*'Air Raid Damage to Church Property." Date unknown. INF 1î784, PRO. " A benefit to this process was rising property values during the immediate pst-war yeius, which provided the Church with maximum return on some of the property it sold. This also, perhnps, contributed to the process of selecting which buildings to keep, and which to sell. The effect of ~hewar on London's property values is explained in Roy Porter, London: A Social History, (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University F'ress, 1994), Chapter 15. " Noted in William Temple Papen, 1944, LPL. grew. It was also simultaneously forced to deal with the returning clergy from the amdforces, as they, too, retumed to the positions they held before the war. The Bishops' War Cornmittee recognized this problem in a confidentid merno dated 26 May 1944: 'There are some 2000

Church of England chaplains serving in His Majesty's Forces. the majority of whom are between the ages of 30-40. Their return to civilian life.. .is a matter of deep concem to them. as it is also to the Bishops in the staffing of their dioceses. It is bound, iherefore, to create a problem of some magnitude."* This two-pronged problem was addressed in different ways in the various dioceses. for there were different theories on how this could be best achieved. In terms of the clergy, the typical approach was to reinsute those vicars and clergy to their previous positions before they entered the service. Genenlly, those who had replaced them were not qualified, or had ken retired, so in most cases there was little difficulty. The effect that this had, coupled with the financial difficulties of many parish churches during the war, was the loss of more men from the ranks of the clergy. Calder notes that whereas there had been 4,554 curates in 1938, by 1948 there were only 2.189 in al1 of ~n~land,"

In regards to the general public, however, there were various approaches concerning reintegration into the Church. [n terrns of the spirituil well-being of these returnees a cornmittee on evangelism had been established in 1944 on the urging of Fisher, then the Bishop of London, at a Bishops' Conference, in order to "prepare clergy and parishes for the return of men from the

orc ces.'^ The findings of this cornmittee were presented in the book Towards the Conversion qf

England, with the intention to "stimulate evangelism, not directly to e~an~elize.'~~"in England," the report stated,

the Church has to present the Christian Gospel to multitudes in every section of Society who beEeve in nothing; who have lost a whole

45 "Air Raid Damage io Churcb Property," Date Unknown, INF 11784, PRO. a Bishop's War Committee Minutes, "Demobilisation of Temporary Chsplains serving in Her Majesty's Forces and Their Return to Civilian Life." 36 May 1944, Fulham Papers, LPL. '7 Cdder, The People's War, 553. 48 'The Ministry and the War: Demobilisation." 15 January 1944. Fulham Papers, LPL. '' Towards the Conversion of England, (Vtuicouver: JM. Dent and Sons (Canada). 1947). xi. dimension (the spintual dimension) of life; and for whorn Iife has no ultirnate meaning.. ..nothing matters more to the world and to the cause of the Divine Kingdom than that the Christian faith in England should again establish itself creatively at the heart of our people's daily life and intere~ts.~

Overall, the book sold well, but according to Wilkinson, had few tangible results. It was bas4 too much on theoretical approaches to the spiritual well-king of the population rather than on the practical applications that people desired?' Some parishes, such as St. John's Wood, did try pragmatically to reach out to the returnees in the community. in a discussion on the

"necessary lines of developrnent in the parish after the war", the general agreed line of approach

"to men retuming from the Services and to new people coming into the district lay through the promotion of study groups and to provision of entertainment that would foster some communal feeling.'"*

This suggestion indicates the overarching concem of the parish church: in what manner could they, if at all, maintain their represenution in the communiiy? As before the wuthe issue of balancing between social and religious responsibilities was again renewed after the direct threat of the war subsided. The difference was that there were expectations that society would radically change because of the war experience; consequently, the position of the Church of

England in soçiety would have to be reevaluated. Mass Observation pointed out that there were two schools of thought in this regard within Church circles: "[a] large group want the churches to produce a much more social and political point of view. On the other hand, an almost equd group feel that religion should remain a mystical experience, an unwoddly matter. These views conflict, but both differ from the present generai practice of the older denorninations, which lies somewhere in between the two.""

TuwardS the Conversion ojEngiand, 16. '' Wilkinson, Dissent or Confurm?, 3 17. * Parish Council Minutes, St. John's Wood, 14 Febniary 1945, LMA. 53 Mas-Observation Archive: TC Religion, 4/H, Religious Feeling 1944.

87 Tied into this issue was the question of whether or not there had been a religious revival during the war, and mst notably as a result of the Blitz. While Mass Observers found that "the influence of war has been to strenglhen the faith of the more thoughtfully and consciously rieligious considerably more than to weaken it," they also noted that there was no indication of a quantifiable rise in those attending ser~ices.~Beciiuse of the appearance of a ladc of growth within the Church, it would seem that there was indeed no merisurable revival of sorts in the comnity in terms of religious adherence. However, as Hastings argues, one can surmise that there was a religious "renewai" that was caused by "the war itself and a concurrent spiritual and inielkctual readjustment of so~iet~."~~Jose Harris also challenges the notion chat no quantifiable

"revivai" translated into a decline in religious influence immediately following the wu. 'The

role of the wiu in riccelerating the national slide in secularism," she argues, "musc be set against

evidence of widespread 'conversion' and 'revival' in certain and specific localized context~."~~

This view does suggest that there was a renewal in spite of, not because of, the Church's efforts.

This was supported by the findings of Mass-ûbservation. They suggested that "war has brought a

qualitative increase in religious faith, but there is little suggestion in any of the many

investigations conducted on the subject that there has been any significant quantitative increase."

This, they argued, was indicative of the notion that any aversion to religion was institutionally

based, and was "dmost entirely directed against or~anizedreligion. There is little anti-religious

feeling, much antichurch feeling."n

WhiIe there is sorne validity to the views of Mas-Observation, it could be argued that

any renewal of Christian belief in British society hiui to be fairly synonymous wiih identification

with organized religion. That association seerned implicit in Anglican definitions of religion's

- - " Mm-Observation Archive, FR 1525 "Reconstruction V: Religion and the Future," December 1942, p. a. s5 Hastings goes on to arguc ihat "the gened feeling of religious reMval or, perhaps better, or restoration, continued for about a dozen years." Hastings, A History of English Christianity.443-444. 50 Jose Harris, "War and Social History," 33. Mass-ûbservation Archive, FR 1525 "Reconstruction V: Religion and the Future," December 1942, p. b, Emphasis in the original. role in the community. The war had contributed to its rejuvenation in this way by an increased awareness of the benefits of religion, and consequently the Church, in the community. This religion was based more, however, on a practicaiity and social awareness than it was on the

"mystical" or orthodox quaiities of religion that the Church emphasized during the interwar period." In the Holy Trinity. Chelsea Parish Paper in 1942, for example, attention was drawn to letters recently written by 150 young men in the Service to The Times which "expressed a hope that steps will be taken to safeguard the clergy of the future from becoming too engrossed in the technicalities of theology. Frorn the same letters,..it is obvious how set these young people are on the establishment of a social order rooted in Christian princip~es."'~The supreme concem, the

Vicûr subsequently argued two years later, "was to give concrete expression to the ethical ideds inherent in the Christian belief, for it is not the Christian dogmas which are alienating the masses from religion but the moral impotence of the Church to combat a socially sinful ~ociet~."~'Mass-

Observation, in a study on attitudes towards religion immediateiy after the war, argued similarly that "many people look on religion primruily as good acts, the beliefs inspiring these good acts being of secondary importance."6' As one rniddle-class member of the community pointed out in

1942 "religion, to mean anything, musc have something to do with everyday life - it has no point if it's merely an outburst once a ~eek."~'

The emphasis on the social, practical and ethical usefulness of Christianity in the parish church towards the end of the war appears to be unique given the situation in the interwar period.

It could be argued, however, that such a shift in Church thought was a retum to, rather than a shift away from, the traditional role of the Church in the community. The retum to a more pragmaiic

See the fint chapter for more on the inter-ww context. 59 Holy Trinity: A Porish Paper, MaylJune 1942, LMA. Holy Trinity: A Parish Paper, FebmaryiMarch 1944, LMA. '' Mus-Observation, Pualed People: A Study in Popular Attitudes ro Religion. Ethics, Progress and Politics in u London Borough, (London: V. Gollancz, 1947), 78. In the same study. Mass-Observation found that in a survey asking the question, 'bhat is religion", "36 percent spontaneously define religion in tenns of belief, faith and Cod; 32 percent sponianeously define it in terms of conduct; 14 perccnt spontaneously define it by criticising il." Mss-Observûtion. Puzzled People, 72. style of Christianity was desired by those retuming to West London because it was synonymous with their traditional definitions of community, and the role of religion there. At the same

Bishops' Conference on dernobitization in January 1944, the Bishop of Southwark argued that

"the men he had met on his tour [of the Forces in Europe] did not want any new society in

~ngland,'*~Moreover, most desired the intemalization of personal religious belief, identifying it as an act of individual choice. Consequently, this left a more corporate style of Christianity as the focus of institutiondized religion. And while it appeared during the closing years of the war chat the absence of Church reform would hurt the parish, the evidence suggests that, as noted above, this was the most desired course of action by the Church as well as by those in the rest of the community. It should be noied, however, that the Church did not neglect the saving of souls that was cmcial to its mission in the community, but it separatecl this activity somewhat from the parish church by developing a "missionary structure for the Church's presence in a modem urban-industrial comm~nit~."~One such example was the creation of the "industrial Mission'' in

1944, which moved throughout urban centers in ~n~land.~While these organizations cooperated with the parish church, they were not tied by its boundaries, and therefore were less connected to one specific community .

Much of the "change" at the end of the war, therefore, wumoted in a retum to nomlcy, and to the traditional role of religion in the community as a practical and ethical guide. This does not mean thitt the Church of England did not experience change. Indeed, the financial difficulties, physical damage to buildings, and a problem with clergy resulted in a need to restructure the parochial system. This was especially so in an urban setting like London. These changes, however, did not represent a radical shift in the Church's dein the community. Rather, they were the tesult of a gradua1 process that was accelerated by the challenges of the war experience.

" Mas-Observation Archive, FR 1525 "Reconstruction V: Religion and the Future," December 1942, p.22. 63 Bishops' Meeting, The Ministry and the War." 15' 16' January 1944, LPL. * Hastings, A Hisrory of English Chn'stianity, 439. Early in the war (and even before) there was a recognition by churchmen, both lay members and clergy, that the existing parochiai system was inadequate to met the needs of the urban community. As Vicar Cheshire of Holy Trinity, Chelsea stated, "that it (the parochial system) has broken down today is c~nunon~lace."~~As early as 1939, prominent Church of

England hymen like T.S.Eliot expressed their agreement that "the parish is certainly in de~a~."~'

He argued that the main cause of this was "urbanisation - in which 1 am including aiso sub- urbanisation. and ail the causes and effects of urbanisati~n."~Unlike the rural setting, where the individual rnaintained fewer loyalties, the multiplicity of identification with different organizations (accelerated by the war) loosened the loyalty that was needed in order Cor a parochial system to work. As Robert Cume, Alan Gilbert and Lee Horsely argue, "war seems to have shaken certain loyalties permanent^^."^^ In addition. Lloyd argues, the decline of the parish was also due to a critical lack of clergy to manage parochial affairs?' Whatever the reason (and this was cenainly one of them) refon was necessary, as Vicar Cheshire affinned: "it is probably no rash prophecy to say that the Church will have drastically to re-order its existing method of multitudinous parishes and parish churches and concentrate on large central churches strongly and comprehensively staffed and working over far wider area~."~'The intent was "to secure more effective teaching of the Christian Faith, the Christian ethic and Christian wor~hi~."~'

In anticipation of this need, the Church of England established a parochial reorganizaiion codttee in 1941, which had the power to:

a) to survey the existing parochial organization of the diocese in relation to the need for spirituai and pastoral oversight and the provision thereof;

" Hastings, A History of English Christianity, 439. Another example during the wuwas the presence of the "Church Amy" in many West London parishes, helping the parish intemct with the community. 66 Holy Trinity: A Parish Paper, Holy Trinity, Chelsea, FebmaryiMarch 1944. MA. KI T.S.Eliot, The ldea of a Christian Society, (London: Faber and Faber, 1939),29. 68 Eliot, The Idea of a Christian Society, 29. 69 Robert Che,Alan Gilbert, and Lee Honley, Churches and Churchgoers: Patzenrs of Church Growth in the Brirish Mes since 1700, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977). 1 14. 'O Lloyd, The Church of England, 5 14. " Holy Trinity: A Parish Paper, Holy Trinity, Chelsea, 1940 Bulletin, LMA. '2 The Church Times, 27 December 1940,815. b) to decide the areas or groups of areas into which the pastoral oversight should be divided; c) to determine the order of priority of rehabilitation of the areas or groups of areas7'

Because of the disruptive nature of the bombings early in the war. this comrnittee was unable to begin any tangible reorganization until the war was almost over. And although this cornmittee would have the ultirnate word on reorganization, the process was set up so that there would be an immense amount of interaction with the parochial community itself. "It shall be the duty of the diocesan re-organization conunittee," it was noted, "to consider what reorganization of the pastoral supervision of each area in the diocese may be desirable and to consult thereon with every patron, incumbent, and parochial church council ~oncerned."~' That such a process was followed was fairly evident in West London and most notably in two parishes that have been prominent in this study. St. Mary the Bolton's wüs one parish community that was to be eliminated because of the extensive amount of damage to its infrastmcture and buildings. A parish meeting was set up where the opportunity was provided for "our parishioners to give expression to their ~iews."~'After much discussion and opposition to the plans, the parish was allowed to survive on the premise that it raise the majority of the funds itself to repair the church.

By contrast, St. John's Wood underwent a massive reorganization which saw its power grow from a informai administrative center of three parishes to an actual parish that amalgamated three older parishes: Si. Siephens, Christ Church and St. John's Wood. This also followed consultation with the parishioners of these various areas. 76

The net effect of the restructured parochial system is difficult to determine, but it did help the Church recover from the financial and clerical problems of the war. On a more critical level, it expanded the boundaries of each parist! so that it had to deal with more people in a greater area,

Measure Outline, April 1941, Fulham Papers, LPL. 74 Measure Outline, April 194 1, Fulham Papers, LPL. 7S Sr. Mary's Mirror, St. Miuy the Bolton's, Mach and April 1945, LMA. 76 The new parochial boundiuies were noted in the Piuish Council Minutes for Si. Stephens, 14 March 1945, LMA. distancing the parish church from the intimate setting and identification with the local community that it once had. Such was the continuing effect of urbanization on a system dependent to a large degree on loyalty . Overall, those within the Church who sought radical changes to the parochiai system were disappointed; the reforms were not as wide sweeping as many churchmen had hoped. Part of the reason for this was allowance for adjustments to the program in order to meet the needs of individually affected parishes like SC.Mary the Bolton's.

Such an apprmch was not exclusive to the process of parochial refonn, however.

Historians and urban geographers have noted that this type of process was typical in the rebuilding and reform of the entire Greater London region. The expectation of radical change in

British society, and in prirticular London, was underrnined by the survival of much of London physically. This instigated an aversion to radical refonn, and a desire to preserve the traditional structure of the city itself. As P.L. Garside argues. the rebuilding of London wris not abmpt and radical, but gradual and incremental; the Blitz simply did not bring about the expected radical results that many anticipated from the bombing of civilians. As a result, any far-reaching redesign of London was not possible, and "the belief that 'London shall remain London' gained gr~und."~In general, the entire process of reforming London was, as in the case of parish reform, "fragmented and subservient to the status quo."78

The second most affected ana of Church life was the religious education system. The dual system, in which state and religious schools co-existed and provided equal opportunities for a proper education had broken down duhg the war, in large part due to the financial strain already placed upon the Church and the loss of buildings during the war. Hastings estirnates that

"of the nine thousand Church of England schools remaining in 1944 only sorne two thousand

" P.L. Garside, "London and the Home Couniies," FML. Thompson ed., The Cambridge Social History of Brirain 1750-1950 Volume I: Regions and Commriniries, (Cambridge: Cambridge University hess, 19% 47 1-540), 534-535. '' Ken Young and Patricia L. Garside, Metropoliran London: Politics and Urban Change 1837-1981, (London: Edward Arnold, 1982), 229. A similar process is described in Porter, London: A Social History. were to survive as such (and at one time they had looked like falling to around five hundred)."?')

Kevin leffereys also notes that many of the Church of England school buildings were already old before the war, thereby indicating that the interwar period was actudly the beginning of the refonn of religious institutions' role in education.8' However, because the Church had so rnany schools, and was an integral part of the existing education system, it necessririly became a crucial player in any efforts at educational reform. This was to be the case in 1944.

Included in the discussion over the reforms put forward in the Education Act of 1944 was the question of what role religion was to play in the new system. Jeffereys points out that in the intenvar period the Church of England was not open to educational reforms of wy sort because they often did not result in any financial benefit to the ~hurch." Thus, no refonns of the dual system were undertaken. However, the situation in the latter half of the war had changed this.

First, the Church was in a very difficult situation finluicially, and could not provide for the upkeep of its remaining schools. Second, there was a growing awareness by secular refonners thot this situation had to be resolved before any plan of reform could go for~ard."~

Towards the end of the war, the desire rimong the public to keep some type of religious education in the schools dso persisted. A Gallup poll taken in Sanuary 1944, for example, found that fifty-six percent of those polled agreed that "religious education should be given a more defined place in the liie and work of the s~hools."~~One yex earlier, however, a poll had found

Hastings, A History of English Chrisfianify,420. Hastings defines the dual system in this manner: "England hiid developed a dual system of schools (quiie ripart from the top layer of fee-paying 'public schools') - roughly half king Church schools (four-fifths Church of Engiand. the other filth mosily Catholic), the oiher increiuingly preponderant hdf, those of the local educdon auhority." Hastings, A History of English Chrisrianiry,4 17. Kevin leffereys, "RA. Butler. The Board of Education, and the 1944 Education Act," History, 1984 (69(227): 415-43 l), 420. Jeffereys, "RA Butler, the Board of Educatition," 419. Jeffereys labels il the "most serious obsr;icIe to the formation of a plm for reform." From "R.A. Butler, the Board of Education," 419. 83 George H. Gallup ed. The Gallup international Public Opinion Pulls Great Brirain 1937-1975, Volume One: 1937-1964,(New York; Random House. 1976), 1944,88. that sixty-one percent felt that education should be the domain of local a~thorities.'~The question of rmonciling these two apparently opposing views was a source of much disagreement.

The groundwork for this debate had its roots early in the war, with the most vivid example a series of editorials labeled "Religion and National Life," which was published in The

Times beginning in February 1940. in the first of this series of articles, it was pointed out that,

"in a country professedly ChristUn, and a country which at the moment is staking its al1 in defence of Christian principles, there is a system of national education which allows the citizens of the future to have a purely heathen upbringing."" The Chirrch Times also emphasized this

point, and noted that "the Governrnent - and indeed the country - is almdby the decay of

mords, consequent on recent neglect of the Christian religion. The Board of Education is

therefore anxious to use Christionity as a buttress to suppon the social fabric."" It was of

pammount importance, therefore, chat any reforrns to the education system include the increased

provision of religious education. For most people in ihe comunity, the definition of such

religious education focused on the teaching of a proper mon1 and ethical base to Britain's young

people, so that they would be honest, upright citizens who contributed more to society. 'The

basis of good citizenship is chamter." Th Times argued, " and a man's character depends upon

his be~iefs."~'Such education did not necessarily have to entail the teaching of Christian

theology, although it usually did in one form or another. for that was the religious base in

~n~land.~As one contributor to the debate pointed out:

by 'religion' 1 do not mean history of doctrine but rather such tetiching as is to be found in the Sermon on the Mount. It is doubtful, for instance whether the children of this genention realize that dl lying, bad faith and

BJ Gallup, The Gallup lnrerna~ionalPublic Opinion Poils, 7 1. as The Times, 12 February 1940,9. 86 The Qurch Times. 14 Januuy 1944, 18. " The Times, 12 February 1940,9. There are inherenl problems in defining exxdy religion's role in eduçation, and what "teligious education" particulariy involves. Roblems in definition me pointed out in John Wilson, "'Mord and Religious Educalion: Notes for Would-Be Historians," in British Joumai ofEducarionai Sidies, (Vol. XXJUIï (No. 2), June 1985: 148-155). brutality, which are now harnmering at Our gates, springs from disregard of such religious ~eachin~.'~

The overall feeling was that religion resulted in good upstanding citizens, and education without religion created the exact opposite. As one contributor surmised: "Education without

God only makes clever devils, who are more dangerous than siupid one~."~

Educational refonners, then, sought to deal with the problem of the religious schools without dismissing religious education altogether. The eventud solution was to divide religiously run schools into two types: "voluntarily aided schools (the governors met half the cost of repairs, but appointed their own staff), and controlled schools (where local authorities Cook full charge of buildings, and had a greater control of ~taff)."~'This arrangement placed more emphasis on the secular system by giving the state more control over those religious schools Chat still existed. All schools, however, were required to include a compulsory course on religion, drawn from an

"'Agreed Syllabus' of Religious Ins~ruction."~This Syllabus was non-denominational, and was designed by a comrnittee consisting of rnembers from the different Christian sects. The result was a Syllabus chat supporteci a more "National" style of religious education, emphasizing the moral and ethical principles of Christianity over the theological; this suited the public's wishes

very well.

The inclusion of this syllabus was what genenlly led the Church of England to agree to

this arrangement. At first glance, it appeared that the Church had lost its influence in education

because, as an institution, it had lost direct control of the schools. While nothing could be done

about this due to the financial situation a; the end of the war, historians such as Adrian Hastings

have argued chat the Church acnidly stood to gain from this agreement. He asserts that "the al1

89 The Times, 2 1 February 1940,9. The Times, 20 Febcuary 1940,9. 9' Eric Hopkins. The Rise und Decline of the figlish Working Clmes, (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1991). 83. * Hastings. A History of Eiiglish Chnktianity, 4 18. The "hgreedSyllabus" was a pro- of religious education agreed upon by a council inciuding the various denominations, and approved by the local education councils. round gain seemed to be more religious instruction, and worship too, than had ever been the case before in State schools." 93 E.R. Norman also points out that "the Act did establish religious teaching in the state schools, and this, from the Church's point of view, was its greatest advantage."" Hastings, moreover, refers to William Temple's argument that if the Anglican education system was in such a state of disrepair, the only option was to work within a newer state system: "[wlas it not far wiser, Temple asked, for the national Church to do its best to ensure a Christian atmosphere and improved standard of education throughout the national network than CO restrict its influence to what had long been a diminishing segment of that network and was in places little better than an educational s~um?"'~It appeared that the Church had established a new relationship with state sponsored education thai was beneficial to its desires to religiously influence the next generation. Despite this opportunity, however, Hastings points out chat "the Church's influence in the educational field rapidly diminished" because the Church did not take advantage of the situation. 'The Church's greatest avoidable failure in these years," he argues, "was probably in the field of catechetics, in not pioneering a new style of religious teaching in State schools and to keep pace with new educational approaches in other subjects."%

This was due, in part, to the increased identification with the moral and ethicd side of

Christianity at the expense of the spiritual nurturing of the younger generations. This, in turn, led

CO a greater separation between local churches - who were responsible for this nurturing - and religious instruction in schools, for there was now very little interaction between the churches and the schools at the local level. Some in the Church recognized this soon after after the Act was passed in 1944. In The Church Times,the editors argued,

[the Board of Education] attempts to divorce Christian principles from the religious pnctice observed by any actual Christian cornmunity. When

93 Hastings, A History of English Christianity, 419. a) E.R. Norman, Church and Socie~in England, 1770-1970: A Historical Stirdy. (Oxford: Clarendon Press. 1976),401. 95 Hastings. A History of English Chrîstianity, 420. " Hastings, A History of English Christianity, 438. This despite the fact. he argues, that at this time religion was playing a greater role in intellectuaiism than it had in the earlier part of the twentielh century. religion is thus separated from any kind of churchmanship one thing follows. It ceases to be religion and issues into an indeterminate humanism, rwted not in Gad but in man.... The result of such a plan on England will be just as disappointing as the effect of Christian ethics, without Christian discipleship, on Mahatma Gandhi. Any social system dependent on such a buttress will fa11 down?

The significance of the parish church within the community, therefore, has often ken overlooked in post-war British society. In sorne ways the Church lost its influence due to a loss of clergy and an expansion of parochial boundaries, thereby distancing it from the communities it once serviced. In addition. the effects of urbanizrition on religious culture incresisingly challenged its role and identity within the community. However, in other, equally credible ways. the Church became more focused on maintaining a practical role within the community that allowed for more interaction. Despite earlier historical arguments, it is perhaps more fitting to view the Church as undergoing the same process of graduai, conservacive change that was prevalent in the rest of British society towards the end of the war. This, in turn, indicates the increased interdependence of the Church of England and the community within traditional notions of British society. The Church was no longer effective as a social institution that worked outside the state frarnework; it was now forced CO reforrn its ideas of sovereignty that justified its existence as a more independent institution. Religious morals, moreover. were intricately tied

into conceptions of the traditional, ideal British society and were viewed as being an essential part of the process of educating its "citizens." [t could also be argued that it gained a greater role in

the education system, and mainiained greater contact with the civil system, albeit from a

somewhat secondary position. Because of this. the Church would continue to play a role in the

community until the end of the 1950s. It was really not until the 1960s chat the Church would

really lose its effectiveness in the comrnunity, and be forced to again redefine its role within

British society.

97 The Church Times. 14 January 1944, 18. Conclusion

The situation of the Church of England parish at the end of the war, therefore, appeared in one respect threatened, and in another potentially reestablished as an important part of the community. In one respect, the parish system had been severely challenged by the experiences of the war, thus undermining its role in the community of West London. The war years had revealed some crucial problems that the Church faced in the ma, including a shortage of clergy, a sense of dwindling commitment from congregations, and challenges to the traditional roles of the church building and the cime set aside to use it. It was not so much a case of new problerns however, but one of long-established challenges king amplified by the conflict. They were, therefore, pmblems that had already been recognized by Churchmen, who were in the process of addressing them even before the war started. What the war did do, though, was instigate a disruption in this pmess and a shift in approach by those in the Church regarding its interaction with the local West

London cornmunity.

The shortage of clergy was crucial to a loss of influence in the community. The local parish vicar had always played a traditional role in the British community. However, with the increased burdens placed upon the clergy because of the war, two problems resulted: first, vicars were forced to take on multiple responsibilities, forcing many to leave the area for the entire war; and second, the burdens of war left many parishes unable financially to support the amount of staff needed to maintain a presence in the area. The stress on the ranks of the clergy, as a result of the war, consequently exacerbated an aiready existing shorîage.

In addition to a loss of clergy, the role of the Church was hrther hampered by the changes underway in the congregations of the local parish. The nature of the urban setting was not conducive to the parochial system since conflicting loyalcies, and the transient nature of the population, lirnited the necessary commitment from a core group of rnembers. The war increased this problem with evacuations, displacement due to bombing, the influx of troops into the ma, and the loss of those called up for service; many of these people would simply fail to retum. The last crucial obstacle that put the Church in a somewhat precariws position was the loss of Church buildings due to physical damage, and the use of them by secular organizations.

In addition, the tirne traditionally set aside to perfom religious services, especially Sundaiy, was often lost due to the conswaints of the war. As a result, the traditional association of certain spaces and times with celigious belief and practice was undermined. This challenged the authority of the Church in the community, which was rooted in its role as a religious institution.

in the pmess.

These thcee key components of the parochiai system were indeed severely challenged by the war, resulting in the need for the Church to reevaluate its role in the urban London setting.

This was especially tme when those in the Church - both ctergy and layrnen - began to think about the future state of British society. Yet it should be noted that this recognition of the

problems with the urban parochiid system, and the desire to reform it CO make it more effective,

also indicated a recognition that religion needed to continue to play an active role in British

society. The identification of the war by Churchmen as a greater moral struggle between nght

and wrong, coupled with the persistent interaction between the Church and the community

revealed such feelings. The rest of British society, in tum, recognized the need for a religious

presence as well. Many still associated religious belief - and the religious institutions related to it

- with traditional notions of British society iuid viewed it as an important part of communal Me;

this despite the precarious state these institutions were in. This wu particularly apparent in the

desire to refom the education system with the provision for more religious teaching in state

schools.

The acknowledgment by Churchmen that the obstacîes they faced necessitated a need to

reform their approach to community must dso be analyzed within the context of the greater

histotical discussion regarding social change in British society as a result of the war. The Church

did indeed return to a more conservative view of its role in society, which tended to separate

evangelization and religious belief from the more practical interaction between the parish church and the community. The emphasis on a more pragmatic Christianity that was supportive of the existing structure of British society, as opposed to the more liberal views of the interwar Church that developed through a criticism of the social condition of Britain, is synonymous with the general historical argument that there was an overarching desire to maintain more traditional notions of British society. Definitions of community, therefore, were based to a fair degree upon ideiù notions of the past, in which the Church played an important part.

It should be emphasized, however, that such a return to a more conservaiive position within society did not constitute an abandonment of more progressive ideas; the election of the

Labour govemment in 1945 and the Beveridge inspired refonns, are evidence of that. All, including most churchmen who were strong advocates of such liberal ideas, welcomed these changes. The realization of these goals, though, should not overshadow the idea that the basic ideas that British society was based upon, did not disappear. The ideals of community - including a strong religious presence to act as a moral guide, and to assist those in need - continued to maintain a connsction to the past. The result was an incorporation of new, more progressive application with more traditional ideas about how British society was defined. The effect of this dichotomy was that change in post-war Britain was gradua1 and strucîural nther than abrupt and radical. The "revolutionary" argument regarding change in post-war Britain, therefore, should be viewed as sornewhat of an exaggeration.

The course of the Church during this time, therefore, was not antithetical to the rest of society, but related to the characteristics of change throughout Britain. Moreover, the realization within the Church chat the parochial situation needed change in order for the Church to mintain its connection with the community indicates that the Church was willing and able to adapt to its changing roles. Contrary to many historians' arguments, therefore, the situation of the immediate post-war Church reveals an institution that was adapting concurrently with contemporary ideas of social change, not against them. The desire for the presence of religion in the community also necessitates a reevaluation of the theory of secularization. The apparent contradiction in terms of the growth and decline of the Church's position in the community implies that the conunon interpretation that British society in the twentieth century was completely secular is far too simplistic a view to be accurate.

This does not mean that the Church's role had not diminished; the process of "de-

Christianization" had indeed undermined the Church's traditional authority within the local community. in addition. modemization and urbanization had caused a redefinition of the role of religion in the community. However, such change, as noted above, was recognized by the

Church to a great degree, and did not necessarily have to result in the "inevitable" end to religious emphasis in the community. Such a view implies that the Church was a static institution in an otherwise progressive society. As Stephen Spinks points out, however, such a view is not necessarily the case:

The story of religion in Britain during the last fifty years is the story of a paradox. It has been necessary to write of institutions which seem largely to have lost the power of attracting themselves popular support, and yet, such is the peculiarity of this half century, to remain vividly aware that certain aspects of the British way of life have been more deeply influenced by religion than has been the case in any previous qe.'

The war was one such example of the continuing role (albeit a changed one) of religion,

and consequently religious institutions within urban communities like West London. The Church

was severely affected by the challenges that the war experience brought; but so were most other

institutions in the urban community. in addition, the religious convictions which rnany used to justify the need for war against Hitler and Nazi Germany reveals a more ingrained religious

association than secularization indicates.

It could also be argued that many modem ideological platforms were also affected by the

war, in some ways undermined even more than traditional views of Christianity. "Modem"

concepts of selfdetermination, secular humanism. and nationalism were represented at their

G. Stephen Spinks, Religions in Britain Since 1900, (London: Dakers. 1952), 7

102 worst in the war, leading many in society to push for a retum to Christian principles, most notably through education. in many ways, the war could also be viewed as instigating a proçess of

"reverse secularization" in which the role of religious belief and, consequently, institutionalized religion was re-emphasized in British society.

While a retum to religious principles was present in the war experience, it is also important to note how that religion was defined. The desire to retum to religion that taught good moral and ethical principles, and encouraged the development of good British citizens, was not the kind of Christianity developed in the interwar period by theologians like Karl Barth. Rather than expounding on the Kingdom of God, as Barth and others did before the war, the aspects of religion emphasized as a result of the war dealt more with temporal practicalities rather than supernaturai ideas. As before, however, this retum to a more traditional style of Christianity must not be overemphasized. The situation in the post- war era could not allow for a complete retum to the past. What resulted was a Church that looked both to the future and to the past, even though at tirnes these views appeared to conflict.

The role of the Church in twentieth century London, therefore, merits more precise analysis. The assumption that Bntain was secularized by the tirne of the Second World War does not accurately address the continuing role of religion, and consequently religious institutions, in the community of West London, the focus of this thesis. The role of the Church of England had

indeed changed, and was challenged to reassess its main venue for interaction with the

comrnunity, the parish church, because of existing problems being accelerated by the war

experience. However, the Church was willing to change in the same way that the rest of society

was changing. The consequences of this were twofold. In one sense, the true position of the

Church as an institution that helps shape, while being shaped by, the rest of British society was

emphasized; this embodied the true definition of the Church as a cultural institution. By contrast,

however, the role of the Church as a spiritual institution, responsible for bridging the gap between the spiritual and the temporal, was underrnined by the redefinition of the role of religious belief in the community as a result of the war. Consequentiy, perhaps more than at anytime in its history the Church was more a part of the British cornrnunity than it was of the pater "heavenly" community. This does not mean that the Church had abandoned its spiritual responsibilities, but on a parochial level the emphasis was clexly on the pragmatic. Such an emphasis would strengthen the Church in the immediate post-war years, but would have consequences as British society continued to change in the decades following the war. 1. Pdmary Sources

London Metropolitan Archives

Al1 Saints, Fulham Parish Records Christ Church, Fulham Parish Records Christ Church, Lancaster Gate, Paddington Parish Records Holy Tnnity, Chelsea Parish Records St. Barnabas. Dulwich Pmish Records St. John's Wood Parish Records Incoporates records of Three Parishes: St. John's Wood St. Stephen's Christ Church St. Mary the Bolton's Prirish Records

Lambeth Palace Archives

Diary of A.C. Don, Chaplain to Archbishop of Canterbury Lang Fisher Papers - Archbishop of Canterbury Geoffrey Fisher Fulham Papers - Bishop of London Geoffky Fisher Lang Papers - Archbishop of Canterbury Cosmo Gordon Lang London Diocesan Book (London: Church of England), 1940. Temple Papers - Archbishop of Canterbury William Temple

Mas-Observation Archives, University of Sussex, Brighton

File Reports Senes Topic Collection 47: Religion

The Church Times The Times

Public Records Office, London

HO 18611450 - Home Ofice Files INF 11402,403,414,415,784 - Ministry of Information Files B. Publiihed Sources

Towards the Conversion of England. Vancouver: J.M. Dent and Sons (Canada), 1947. Bell, G.K.A. 'The Function of the Church in War-time," The Fomightly Review (November 1939): 638-645.

Bell, G.K.A. Christianiry und World Order. Hmondsworth, Eng.: Penguin Books, 1940.

Cochrane, Arthur C. The Church and the War. Toronto: Thomas Nelson and Sons, 1940.

Eliot, T.S. The ldea ofu Christian Society. London: Faber and Füber Ltd., 1939.

Mascall. EL. 'The Christian and the Next War," Theology (January 1939): 53-58.

Mass-Observation. Puded Peuple: A Study in Popular Attitudes to Religion, Ethics, Progress and Politics in a London Borough. London: V.Gollancz, 1947.

Mass-Observation. "Religion and the People," Mm-Observation File Repons. Brighton: University of Sussex, May 6, 1943.

Temple, ES. ed. William Temple: Sorne Lambeth Letters. London: Oxford University Pless. 1963.

Temple, William. Chrisriuniry and the Social Order. Harrnondsworth, Eng.: Penguin Books, 1941.

II. Secondary Sources

A. Reference

Guides to Sources for British History: Papers of Brirish Chchmen 1780-1940 London: Her Majesty's Stationiuy Office, 1970.

Creaton, Heather. Sources for the history of London 1939-45: a guide and bibliography. London: British Records Association, 1998.

Flindall, Roy Philip, ed. The Church of England 1918-1951: a Rocumentary History. London: Society for Pmmoting Christian Knowledge, 1972.

Gallup, George H. ed. The Gallitp International Public Opinion Poils, Great Brirain 1937 -1975: Volume One 1937-1964. New York: Random House, 1976.

Havighurst, Alfred R. Mudent Englarid 1901-1970. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1976.

Sheridan, Doroifiy. Mas Observation File Repons Inàex. Brighton: University of Sussex, 197 1.

Weinreh, Ben and Hi bbert, Christopher eds. The London Encyclopedia. London: Macmillan, 1995. B. Biographies and Memoirs

Baker, Canon. William Temple and His Message. New York: Penguin Books, 1945.

Carmichael, John D. and Goodwin, Harold S. William Temple's Political Legacy: A Critical Assessment. London: A.R. Mowbray and Co., 1963.

Colville, John. The Fringes of Power: 10 Downing Street Diaries 1939-1955. London: W.W.Norton, 1985.

Craig, Robert. Social Concern in the Thought of William Temple. London: Victor Gollancz, 1963.

Fletcher, Joseph. William Temple: Twentieth Century Christian. New York: Seabury Press. 1963.

Iremonger, F.A. William Temple, Archbishûp of Canterbury: His L& and Letters. London: Oxford University Press, 1948.

Jasper, Ronald CD. George Bell: Bishop of Chichester. London: Oxford University Ress, 1967.

Kent, John. William Temple: Church, Sure and Saciery il1 Britain 1880- 1 950. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1992.

Loçkhart, J.G. Cosmo Gordon hng. London: Hodder and Stoughton Ltd., 1949.

Lowry, Charles W.William Temple: An Archbishop for al1 Semons. Washington D.C.: University Press of Amencri, 1982.

MacMillan, Harold. The Bkast of War 1939-W5. New York: Harper and Row. 1968.

Purcell, William. Fisher of hbeth:A Portrait from Lfe. London: Hodder and Stoughton Ltd. 1969.

Thomas, Owen C. William Temple's Philosophy of Religion. London: Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge, 1% 1.

Walmsley, Lesley. C.S. Lewis: Essq Collection und Other Short Pieces. London: Harper Collins, 2000.

C. Books

Addison, Paul. The Rod to 1945: British Politics and the Second World War. London: Cape, t 975.

Bainton, Roland H. Chrisriun Attitudes Towurds War and Peace. New York: Abingdon Press, 1960. Barnes, Kenneth C. Nazism, Liberalisrn and Christianity: Protestant Social Thought in Germany and Great Britain 1925-1937. Lexington, Kentucky: University of Kentucky Press, 199 1.

Beardmore, George. Civilians at War: Journuls 1938-1946. London: John Murray Publishers, 1984.

Berger, Peter. The Sacred Canopy: Elements of a Sociological Theory of Religion. New York: Doubleday, 1967.

Calder, Angus. The Myth of the Blitz. London: Jonathan Cape, 1991.

Calder, Angus. The People's Wac Britain 1939-45. London: Jonathan Cape, 1969.

Cannadine, David. Class in Britain. Lundon: Yale University Press, 1998.

Ceadel, Martin. Pacifîsm in Britain 1914-1945: The DeJining of a Faith. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1980.

Chamberlin, E.R. Lift, in Wartime Briiain. London: B.T. Batsford Ltd., 1972,

Childs, Peter and Stomy, Mike, ed. British Ciiltirru1 Identities. London: Routledge, 1997.

Cowling, Maurice. Religion and Public Doctrine in Modern England. London: Cambridge University Press, t 980,

Cox, Jefiey. The English Chiirches in a Secular Society: Lumbeth 1820-1930. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1982.

Cume, Robert, Gilbert, Alan, Horsley, Lee. Churches and Chutchgoers: Patterns of Church Growth in the British Ides since 1700. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1977.

Davies, Charles Maurice. Unorthodox London; or, Phases of Religioiis Life in the Metropolis. New York: A.M. Kelley, 1969.

Davies, Horton. Worship and Theology in England Volume V: The Ecumenicd Centitry. Cambridge, UK: William B. Eerdmans, 1996.

Freedman, Jean R. Whistling in the Dark: Memory and Culture in Wartime London. Lexington, Kentucky: The University Press of Kentucky, 1999.

Garside, Paüicia and Young, Ken. Metroplitan London: Politics and Urban Change, 1837-1981. London: Edward Arnold, 1983.

Gay, John D. The Geography of Religion in England. London: Duckworth Pub., 1971.

Gilbert, Alan D. The Making of Post-Christian Britain: A History of the Secularization of Modern Society. London: Longman, 1980. Gill, Robin. The Myth of the Empty Church. London: Society for Promoting Christian Knowledge, 1993.

Harris, Jose William Beveridge: A Biography. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2" edition, 1997.

Harrison, Tom. Living Through the Blitz. London: Collins, 1976.

Hastings, Adrian. Church and State: the English Experience. Exeter, UK: University of Exeter Press, 199 1.

Hastings, Adrian. A History of English Christianity 1920-1990. London: SCM Wss, 1991.

Hawes, Gordon K. Atlas of Man and Relgion. Oxford: Religious Education Publishing, 1970.

Hinton, James. Protests and Visions: Peace Politics in Twentieth Centrrry Britain. London: Hutchinson Radius, 1989.

Hoover, A.J. God, Britain and Hitler in World War II: The View of the British Clergy 1939-1945. Westport, Connecticut: Praeger, 1999.

Hopkins, Eric. The Rise and Decline of the English Working Classes. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 199 1.

Jenkins, Daniel. The British, Their Identity and Their Religion. London: SCM Press Ltd.. 1975.

Kirkham, Pat and Thoms, David, eds. War, Culture, Social Change and Changing Experience in World War Two Britain. London: Lawrence and Wishart, 1995.

Lloyd, Roger. The Church of England 1900-1965. London: SCM Press, 1966.

Luckmann, Thomas. The Invisible Religion: The Problem of Religion in Modern Society. New York: MacMillan and Co., 1967.

Lynn, Vera. We 'Il Meet Again: A Personal and Social Memory of World War II. London: Sidgwick and Jackson, 1989.

Longmate, Norman. How We Lived Then: A History of Everyday Life During the Second World War. London: Hutchinson and Co., 197 1.

McKibbin, Ross. Classes und Cultures: England 1918-1951. Oxford: Oxford University Press. 1998.

McLaine, Ian. Ministry of Morale: Home Front Morale and the Ministry of Information in World War II.London: Allen and Unwin, 1979. McLeod, Hugh. Religion and the People of Western Europe 1789-1970.Oxford: Oxford University Press, 198 1.

Marwick, Arthur. Class: Image and Reality in Britain, France and the USA since 1930. London: Collins, 1980.

Marwick, Arthur. Britain in the Century of Total War. Toronto: Atlantic Monthly Press, 1968.

Mascall, E.L. The Secularization of Chrisrianis): An Analysis and Critique. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1965.

Morgan, Kenneth O. The People's Peace: British History 1945-1989. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990.

Norman, E.R. Church and Sociefy in England l77O-l97O:A Historical Study. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1976.

Oliver, John. The Church and Social Ordec Social Thoiight in the Chirrch of England 1918-1939. London: A.R. Mowbray and Company Ltd., 1968.

Pelling, Henry. Modern Britain 1885-1955. London: Thomas Nelson, 1960.

Porter, Roy. London: A Social History. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1994.

Pounds, N.J.G. A Histoty of the English Parish: The Cirltitre utReligion from Augustine to Victoria. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000.

Ramsey, Arthur Michael. From Gore to Temple: the Development of Anglican Theology between Lia Miindi and the Second World War. London: Longmans, 1960.

Royle, Edward. Modem Britain: A Social History. London: Edward Arnold, 1987.

Sinclair, A. ed. The War Decade: An Anthology of the 1940s. London: Hamish Hamilton, 1989.

Spinks, Stephen G. Religion in Britain since 1900. London: Andrew Dakers Ltd., 1952.

Sykes, Norman. The English Religion Tradition. London: SCM Press, 1953.

Titmuss, Richard. Problems of Social Policy. London: His Majesty's Stationery Office and Longmans, Green and Co., 1950.

Valery, Anne. Talking About the War. London: Michael Joseph, 1991.

Welsby, Paul A. A History of the Chirrch of England 1945-1980. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1984. Wilkinson, Alan. Christian Socialism; Scott Holland to Tony Blair. London: SCM Press, 1998.

Wilkinson, Alan. Dissent or Conform? War, Peace and the English Churches 1900-1945. London: SCM Press, 1986.

Wilkinson, Alan. The Church of England and the First World War. London: SPCK, 1978.

Williams, S.C. Religious Beliefand Popular Cdture in Southwark c. 1880-1939. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999.

Wilson, Bryan R. Religion in a Secular Society. Middlesex. Eng.: Penguin, 1966.

Wolffe, John. Cod and Greater Britain: Religion and Nationtif Life in Britain and Ireland 184.3-1945. London: Routledge, 1994.

Wolffe, Kenneth M. The Churches and the British Broadcasting Corporation 1922-1956 The Politics of Broadcast Religion. London: SCM Press, 1984.

Ziegler, Philip. London at War 1939-1945. New York: Alfred Knopf, 1995.

D. Articles

Beaven, Brad and Gnffiths, John. 'The Blitz, Civilian Morale, and the City: Mass Observation and Working-Class Culture in Britain, 1940-194 1 ," Urban History (vol. 26, iss. 1: 1999): 7 1-88.

Brown, Callum G. 'The Mechanism of Religious Growth in Urban Societies," Hugh McLeod, ed. European Religion in the Age of Great Ciries 1830-1930. (London: Routledge. 1995): 239-263.

Cannon, Chmain. 'The Influence of Religion on Educational Policy 1902-1944," British Journal of Ecclesiastical Studies (vol. XII: May 1964): 143- 160.

Ceadel, Martin. "Christian Pacifism in the Era of the Two World Wars," W.J. Sheils ed. The Church and War: Studies in Chtirch History Vol. Twenry. (Britain: Ecclesiastical Histocical Society, 1983): 39 1-408.

Chandler, Andrew. 'The Church of England and the Obliteration Bombing of Germany in the Second World War," English Historical Review (vol. 108 (429): 1993): 920- 946.

Chandler, Andrew. "Munich and Morality: The Bishops of the Church of England and Appeasement," Twenrieth Century British Histoty (vol. 5 (1): 1994): 77-99.

Che, Catherine Ana. "Ecumenism and Appeasement: The Bishops of the Church of England and the Treaty of Versailles," Journal of Modem History (vol. 61: December 1989): 683-703. Currie, Robert and Gilbert, Alan. "Religion," A.H. Halsey ed. Trends in British Society since 1900: A Guide to the Changing Social Structure of Britain. (London: The MacMillan Ress, 1972): 407-450.

Cusick, Edmund. "Religion and Heritage," Mike Storry and Peter Childs eds. British Cultural lndentities. (London: Routledge, 1997): 277-3 14.

Field, Clive D. "Faith in the Metropolis: Opinion Polls and Christianity in Post-War London," The London Journal (vo1.24, iss. 1: 1999): 68-84.

Eield, Clive D. "'It's al1 chicks and going out': The Observance of Easter in Post-War Britain," Theology (MarcNApril 1998): 82-90.

Friedlander, Dov. "London's Urban Transition 185 1- 195 1," Urban Stitdies (vol. 1 1 : 1974). 127-141.

Garside, P.L. "London and the Home Counties," F.M.L. Thompson ed. The Cambridge Social History of Britain 1750-1950 Vol. 1: Regions and Communities. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1990): 47 1-540.

Geertz, Clifford. "Religion as a CuitUrai System," M. Banton ed. Anthropological Approaches ro the Study of Religion. (New York: Frederick A. Praeger, 1966): 1-46.

Hannaford, Robert. "Anglican Identity and Ecumenism," Journal of Ecrtmenical Studies (vol. 32: Spring 1995): 195-206.

Harris, Jose. "Political Thought and the Welfare State 1870-1940: An Intellectual Fmework for British Social Policy," Past and Present (vol. 135: 1992): 1 16- 141.

Harris, Jose. "War and Social History: Britain and the Home Front during the Second World War," Journal of Contemporary Eitropean History, (1: 1992): 17-35.

Held, David. "From Stability to Crisis in Post-War Britain," Parliamentary Agairs (vol. 40 (2): 1987): 2 18-237.

Jeffreys, Kevin. "R.A. Butler, the Board of Education and the 1944 Education Act," History (vol. 69: October 1984): 4 15-431.

Kitchen, Martin. "Karl Barth and the Weimar Republic," The Downside Review (July 1991): 183-201.

Machin, G.I.T. "Parliament, the Church of Engiand, and the Prayer Book Crisis, 1927-8," Parliamentary History (vol. 19 (1): 2000): 13 1- 147.

Michie, R.C. "Insiders, Outsiders and the Dynamics of Change in the City of London since 1900," Journal of Contemporary History (vol. 33 (4): 1998): 547-571. Morgan, D.H.J.'The Social and Educational Background of Anglican Bishops: Continuity and Change," British Journal of Sociology (vol. 20: September 1969): 295-3 10.

Parsons, Geraid. ''There and Back Again? Religion and the 1944 and 1988 Education Acts," Gerald Parsons, ed. The Growth of Religious Diversiry: Britain frorn 1945 Volume II: Issues. (London: Open University, 1994): 161-198.

Robbins, Keith. "Religion and Identity in Modem British History," Stuart Mews ed. Religion and National Identity: Studies in Church History Vol. 18. (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1982): 465-488.

Robbins, Keith. "Britain, 1940 and 'Christian Civilization'," Derek Beales and Geoffiey Best ed. History, Society and the Churches: Essays in Honor of Owen Chadwick. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985: 279-300.

Spencer, Elizabeth. "From Moral Welfare to Social Responsibility: Organizational and Ideological Changes in the Church," The Annrral Review of the Social Sciences of Religion (vol. 6: 1982): 79- 106.

Toynbee, Arnold J. ''The Historian's Struggle with Religion," Horizon (vol. 3 (3): 1961): 57-65.

Williams, Sarah. "Urban Popuiar Religion and the Rites of Passage," Hugh McLeod, ed. European Religion in the Age of Great Cities 1830-1930. (London: Routledge, 1995): 2 16-238.

Wilson, John. "Moral and Religious Education: Notes for Would-Be Historians," British Journal of Educational Studies (Vol. 33 (2):June 1985): 148- 154.