I shouldn\u2019t have been too surprised. I encountered similar sensitivity in a previous attempt at a side career a few years ago: teaching Religious Education at a private school. The textbook contained Michelangelo\u2019s famous image of God creating Adam. I made a jokey reference to the childlike littleness of Adam\u2019s genitalia, despite his muscle-man physique. Big mistake. One of these 11- or 12-year-olds reported the comment to a parent who reported it to the head who hauled me in for a surreal conversation about the mentionability of Edenic pudenda. I bet science teachers are allowed to mention penises, I protested \u2014 why shouldn\u2019t humanities teachers, especially if the penis is actually depicted in the approved textbook?<\/p>\n
So are holy snowflakes smothering the C of E? I consulted the vicar of a north London church who had worked at a cathedral, where his role included commissioning works of art. \u2018What I\u2019ve noticed is that sensitivity has become more secular than religious \u2014 it used to be that people were nervous of doing or saying something sacrilegious; now they\u2019re more likely to worry about giving secular offence. And often they are not really offended themselves but are imagining other people\u2019s reactions; they are upset on others\u2019 behalf. So I sometimes have to persuade parishioners that something is not as problematic as they fear.\u2019<\/p>\n
A vicar of a central London parish told me that some of her parishioners are excessively worried that traditional Christian themes might seem illiberal. \u2018We were planning a series of Lent talks last year, and brainstorming for a theme. I thought \u201csin\u201d would be pretty uncontroversial, but the most vocal members of the group were dead set against it. That\u2019s the image of religion we want to get away from, they said; it sounds so judgmental.\u2019 But faith is controversial. There\u2019s no getting away from it, and that\u2019s no bad thing. Anything worthwhile is and should be challenging.<\/p>\n