'I’m sure my jaw would also drop if I witnessed some of the manifestations of faith described by the Quaker academic Mathew Guest in this new book.' Photo: Book cover of Neoliberal Religion: Faith and power in the twenty-first century, by Mathew Guest
Neoliberal Religion: Faith and power in the twenty-first century, by Mathew Guest
Author: Mathew Guest. Review by Simon Webb
As a Quaker pacifist, I’ve been shocked by the militarism of some Anglican spaces and ceremonies. Here in Durham, one sometimes encounters solemn processions inside the cathedral, led not by a bishop with a crook, but by a man carrying a large sword, just like Penny Mordaunt in the recent coronation. I’m sure my jaw would also drop if I witnessed some of the manifestations of faith described by the Quaker academic Mathew Guest in this new book. These include sermons and services delivered or inspired by what he calls ‘pastorpreneurs’: individuals who have applied a modern, hi-tech, entrepreneurial approach to preaching and church growth, sometimes with astonishing, world-beating results.
Use of new media and up-to-date marketing techniques need not compromise the central message of any faith (and Guest is careful to look at examples both inside and outside Christianity). A good tune is still a good tune, whether on a piano or a hi-tech synthesiser. What Guest is concerned about is not just how the message is put across in some mega-franchise-stadium-filling religious organisations, but how the message thus transmitted may reflect the neoliberal worldview that many of us feel is deluded and harmful.
Neoliberalism emphasises free markets, consumer choice, deregulation, competition, self-reliance, and personal achievement. Modern capitalism – an affectionate elder brother of neoliberalism – employs the same futuristic marketing techniques embraced by some of the faith organisations Guest describes. It’s all done to perpetuate a mirage of progress, prosperity, growth, freedom and success.
Success is not bad in itself. It is perfectly possible to run a highly-successful soup-kitchen. Guest observes, however, that the success sought for here is the kind reserved for the youngish, white, heterosexual, able-bodied, well-paid, married-with-children, employed, well-groomed and attractive among God’s children. And to be really desirable, it is implied, men must be men and women must be ‘complementary’; no one should have sex outside marriage.
To me, idolising the supposed winners of the rat-race is as alien as a willingness to hack somebody up with a claymore. The link between unfettered capitalism and violence is explicit: if your dogma dictates that you should be allowed to sell anything to anyone, you will be proud to sell guns to disturbed teenagers, and bigger guns to pariah states. Guest expresses concerns about some of this, too. In the last chapter he explores the ethics of studying organisations that may be causing real harm to certain people and groups.
Guest’s approach to these ethical questions is multi-dimensional: he advises observers to be aware of their own biases, as well as how they may manifest themselves and where they may come from. He also advises those involved in university settings to think about the weaknesses of their own institutions. Are their own values sustainable? Where did they come from? Among Guest’s conclusions is a very Quakerly emphasis on the truth – another thing that is mightier than the sword.
