Do you wear a cross? Do you believe doing so is an integral part of your faith as a practicing Christian? Is this a personal understanding or do you believe that our tradition obliges you to do so? These are only a few of the questions raised by a controversy here in the UK about the “right” of Christians to wear a cross or other religious symbols in the workplace or in public. I am finding that, while I am not a huge fan of the quarters from whence this controversy is being generated and sustained – it is making me ask some useful questions about the nature of symbols, and the relationship these symbols have to our practice and identity as sacramental Christians.

I find it curious that the more ardent conservative media sources are giving this issue the most space. Liberal and moderate media outlets are all but ignoring it. I cannot say as though I entirely understand why this imbalance exists. But it does raise some very interesting questions about how religion, more specifically Christianity, is reported in the media, questions that are for another post. Overall I find that religion reporting, like science reporting is extremely poor in the UK.

Is the debate surrounding visibly wearing crosses about real theology or, is it about fear? I actually think it is about fear, but I say that because of the source of the controversy – it is being backed by the likes of Lord Carey, Bp. Nizir-Ali, and the Christian Legal Centre, all proponents of the idea that “Christianophobia” exists in Britain today. That being a practicing Christian is increasingly under threat by Europe, radical Secularists, and Muslims. Their argument boils down to wearing a cross is a religious duty, a defence of Christianity against these forces aggressively marginalising the faith in contemporary British society. That this is grounded in reactionary fear rather than sound theology is further evidenced by the arguments individuals are setting forth in reports, and social media in support of openly wearing crosses. The overall content of the argument goes like this: Sikh’s wear turbans, Muslim women wear hijabs, and Christians are being penalised for displaying the cross. More than one commentor has written that while they did not previously wear a cross – they will now do so. Others have stated that while in the past they have worn their crosses discretely – now they will do so openly. Fifty years ago in Western Europe there was no compelling “need” to wear a cross openly – the running assumption was that the majority were practicing Christians. Now, in Britain at least, that assumption is being challenged – or it is felt that it is being challenged by very visible “alien” religions, the “New Atheists” and bizarrely, Brussels. This is not an argument grounded in solid theology, praxis, or faith – this is an argument grounded in fear, and reaction.

Back in 2006 we saw a similar controversy over the veil in the UK. At the time Tony Blair is reported as saying that the veil is a “mark of separation”. The controversy, it seems to me, is not really about defending our right to practice our faith (though Lord Carey and his band of not so merry men would like you to think that it is), rather it is about doing the very thing that many – conservative and liberal alike – accuse the Muslim community of doing, marking a clear boundary between “us” and “them”, between the “civilised” and the “savage”, the “saved” and the “damned”. This is not sound theology – it is a reaction born of anxiety and prejudice.

For this argument to be effective, however, the symbolism of the cross must be re-claimed from its current status as a fashion accessory, and re-asserted in the mind of popular culture as a religious icon. The history of its journey from icon to accessory is I think closely linked with the emergence of modern media – and I bet it would be a fascinating study to conduct. Think for a moment about the use of image of Buddha, Kali and Lakshmi in restaurants, handbags, and T-shirts: what is the “function” of these religious icons on consumer goods? Advertising for sure, but they have also become, or are increasingly becoming visual elements in our media culture. I’m using these examples first because their appearance on consumer products is more recent – and therefore more thought provoking than that of the cross, which was an established consumer product over 30 years ago. However, in the past ten years it has become fashionable for young people to wear plastic Roman Catholic rosaries – how do they understand this item and its imagery? Is it merely fashion, does it function as an impersonal talisman, or is it somehow devotional? I think I am not too far removed from the “history” to speculate that it is rooted not in faith, but in the culture of central American gang violence – which migrated to American gang culture, and entered the music industry (popular culture) and from there everyone wanted to be seen wearing this accessory because that’s what celebrity singers and rappers do. I’m willing to be proven wrong here – this rundown is purely speculative based on my own observation and guess work. The association between plastic rosary and wearer is not one of the wearer to God, and the mysteries of the faith, but of the wearer to his or her favourite popular celebrity. Here then we see how the cross has truly lost its meaning in the popular mindset. I have on occasion seen individuals wearing a rosary, or crucifix (either as a necklace, earring, or broach) while wearing a T-shirt imprinted with a Hindu God or Goddess. I cannot help but wonder about the symbolism and meaning of these images for the wearer. Do they have any at all – or is it merely a consumer choice of the most interesting and colourful accessories. Regardless of an individual’s interpretation, what is in evidence is how the meaning and value of these religious icons have been altered in a very short period of time. The point is that the cross has been a part of this process. Its meaning is no longer obvious. We cannot assume that because we see someone wearing a cross that that individual is a believing practicing Christian. Indeed I would argue that a quick survey of cross wearers would result in a very low number of believers, but a very high number of people giving other reasons for wearing it. Thus, if the symbolism of the cross no longer has meaning in the popular mindset then how can we expect that to wear it openly makes a statement about our religious belief?

What do you think: is wearing a cross a “requirement” of our faith? If you wear a cross openly and regularly why do you do it?

I’ve seen a few articles lately (such as this one) on the rise of interest in religious activity, and theological education attributed to the economic downturn. The reasons appear to be varied – one is that people have been forced to stop – look around them, and consider the possibility that their priorities were rather skewed. Another is less “optimistic” – they could not get into buisness school . . . yeah, theology is a “good gig” if you can get into it (sigh).

I wonder though – what long term effects will it have in our communities? Will those who complete degrees in theology then go into their communities and do something with it? Will we see an increased concern for valuable relationships with others, the poor, and the lonely? Call me cynical but while I applaud any disciplined search for spiritual awareness, does one necessarily need a degree to do it? Is the rise in interest in such programs merely a “good gig” at the moment; a way to pass the time, look good while doing it, and come out of it in a few years ready to jump back into the cycle that created the problem in the first place?