Cut-flower civilization: rediscovering the west’s Christian roots


We’re all familiar with Alastair Campbell’s retort to a journalist who asked then-PM Tony Blair about his faith: “We don’t do God”. This posture has been the backdrop to my entire career as a Christian in politics. Faith and politics don’t mix. If you have a faith, keep it to yourself and certainly don’t let it inform your politics.  

Increasingly this assumption is being challenged. Everyone has a world view, whether it comes from a religious faith or not, and our beliefs, values and views inevitably shape our engagement with politics and culture. 

But the idea that a non-faith outlook is neutral – and therefore somehow objective – has a strong grip on political debate in the UK. Indeed, the seeds were planted in the 18th Century Enlightenment. The New Atheists of the 2000s promoted the notion that faith was irrational, delusional and dangerous – an enduring view in British politics. 

In a recent column I wrote about the suspicion among some commentators of people of faith engaging with the assisted dying debate. Couching arguments in faith terms is seen as irrelevant and invalid. But if someone does not explain that their faith informs their views, they are accused of dishonesty and hidden motives.

But despite this lingering distrust, I sense that language and attitudes towards faith are starting to shift.  This is partly due to a growing recognition that our society’s values are based on the deep Christian roots of our culture.

As Western societies become more secular, people are increasingly unfamiliar with Christian teachings. Voices on social media are becoming more uncivil, ungracious and partisan, and we surround ourselves with those who believe similar things to us. We begin to find opposing beliefs incomprehensible and dangerous. 

This polarization has increased our uncertainty about where our opinions and beliefs are grounded. Theologian Os Guinness has written that the rejection of our Jewish and Christian foundations means we live in a ‘cut-flower civilization’. 

We still believe in the fundamental notions of human dignity, liberty and equality, but we disagree on where they come from and what they ought to look like.  

Our roots have been severed, so we no longer find their source in God’s great story of creation and redemption. Instead, some look to charismatic ‘strong leaders’ for answers in politics or to persuasive influencers for life advice.

Elizabeth Oldfield has pointed out that younger generations are especially open to a vague ‘spirituality’ that draws on a mixture of different beliefs. Much of this is brewing online. 

Others still, particularly many public intellectual types, are pondering our Christian roots afresh. Historian Tom Holland – not writing from a faith perspective – made a splash a few years ago with his magisterial book Dominion, which is clear about the Christian roots of our culture. “To live in a Western country”, he says, “is to live in a society still utterly saturated by Christian concepts and assumptions.”  

Evangelist Glen Scrivener sets out in his book The Air We Breathe, that the values we are fighting over – freedom, kindness, progress and equality – are all shaped by Christianity. And broadcaster Justin Brierley has been investigating the “surprising rebirth of belief in God”, highlighting an increasing willingness among people without faith to consider the cultural and social value of Christianity. 

And social media has been opening up the debate. Take the recent viral spat on X between new US Vice President JD Vance and former Conservative Minister (and my former neighbouring MP) Rory Stewart, debating whether it is a Christian concept to love and care for our families and immediate neighbours before thinking about those elsewhere in the world. 

Many people of faith and none weighed into the argument (myself included!). Augustine and Aquinas were invoked, as was CS Lewis. And the discussion made its way into mainstream news outlets, including The Telegraph and Spectator, with observers eager to adjudicate on who had the soundest theology. 

Of course it got swallowed up in the endless culture wars debate between progressive and traditional values, but the fact that ‘secular’ commentators were weighing in on what the Bible says about loving our neighbour, and what that means for political engagement, is a debate I could not imagine happening a few years ago.

Like many influences on Britain, this particular dispute originated across the Pond. The fireworks set off by Donald Trump and his supporters as he swept back into the White House have firmly focused our attention on US politics. 

Faith is a major political dividing line in the States in a way that it has never been in Britain. Years of increasingly tribal and divisive politics have trampled down the middle ground altogether, and politics has almost become a matter of salvation. In this election, people were urged to vote for the leader most likely to save them from the particular threats they feared were battering at the door.  

“Make America Great Again” has deliberately promoted a cultural Christian identity that supporters believe is under threat. Trump is presented as the strong leader who will redeem this identity. This view is gradually starting to be expressed in the UK by some on the right wing of politics.

This burgeoning debate is encouraging in that it offers great opportunities to share the gospel with those already attracted to cultural Christianity. However, the true gospel message will be disturbing to those who are looking to add it to a worldview ‘pick-n-mix’. It tells us we need a Saviour because we cannot redeem ourselves. It tells us that we are part of God’s plan and not the other way round. 

This is a stumbling block to a progressive culture that believes we can save ourselves by throwing off the shackles of authority and being true to our inner selves. It is also a stumbling block to traditionalists who long for Christianity to regain the status and establishment respect it once had. 

Jesus calls for disciples who are willing to follow his example and pick up their cross. That could mean difficult personal life decisions, or it could mean giving up public respectability. Let’s welcome the increasingly faith-curious language in politics today, but let’s not confuse it with actual faith.

But for those who want to look beyond the flowers to the roots of our faith, the story we have to tell is radical and liberating. Let’s pray that curiosity will become steps towards true discipleship to Jesus.

Tim Farron has been the Member of Parliament for Westmorland and Lonsdale since 2005 and served as the Leader of the Liberal Democrat Party from 2015 to 2017.

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