Amidst the mirk of the spending cuts, David Philpott concludes that faith is the light that will guide the charity sector through.
Why should the devil have all the good music? So said General Booth, founder of the Salvation Army – or words to that effect. I was reminded of this lyrical phrasing when on Wednesday last week, I found myself at Westminster Central Hall and remembered that the last time I was there it was to listen to rock legend Larry Norman. Who, I hear you asking? Just a man that shaped the way a lot of us were thinking in the late 1970’s. He’s dead now but left a musical legacy that I am sure General Booth would have approved of.
I was at an event as the guest of an Irish faith-based charity that I have been working with recently. They have rather remarkably built 100 schools and sunk 150 bore holes in East Africa in the last few years – yet I doubt you would have heard of them. They are understated, reserved and a little backward in coming forwards when it comes to shouting about their own success, if you know what I mean. Now, I was with them at the Funding Christian Churches and Charities Conference which had been organised by sector leaders Action Planning.
Maybe it was because I had prepared myself for a possibly awkward happy-clappy time - interspersed with the occasional prayer – that I left feeling both relieved (no laying-on-of-hands at this event) and uplifted, by the professionalism of the event. Gathered here were four hundred people who wanted to address the issues of knife crime and gang rape in London, poor healthcare on housing estates in Oldham and debt counselling across the nation, among other things. And a platform positively groaned with the sheer metaphorical weight of the movers and shakers who delivered the goods as the day went on – Lady Susan Sainsbury and Lord Robert Edmiston among them.
The day had started with a rallying call from Steve Chalke – founder of the Oasis Trust. Since the 1980’s, Oasis Trust has developed into a grouping of charities that now works on five continents and in 11 countries around the world, delivering housing, education, training, youth work and healthcare. As he came to the end of his speech I leaned over to the stranger on my left and said, “I remember seeing Steve Chalke busking with a ukulele in Earls Court when he was a skinny twenty-something college student”.
My new-found acquaintance gave me a “yeah right,” unbelieving look.
As I left Westminster Central Hall I was overwhelmed with a feeling of warmth and hope. The economy may be in tatters and this seems to be contributing to donor attrition; statutory funders may be slashing budgets and services are being cut back left and right, but all the time we have people who have a faith – whatever faith that may be – the work will go on because it is their faith that drives them ever forward.
As I boarded the 16.48 at Charing Cross, I accidentally muttered out loud "I wonder if it’s too late to learn the ukulele?"
