Queen's Speech

Lord Bishop of Guildford Excerpts

Thursday 3rd June 2010 Lords Chamber

[The Lord Bishop of Guildford]

My Lords, I must first express my sincere gratitude for the personal welcome that I have received from all sides of the House, especially from the Minister this morning—and especially now that our respective wives have been sorted out. To this, I add my most sincere thanks to the officers and staff of the House. I thank especially Black Rod, who briefed me just a day before his tragic illness, which I know your Lordships' House most deeply regrets.

It is, however, with a certain sense of surprise that any Bishop of Guildford stands before this House, as an examination of Hansard for July 1927 would reveal. The creation of my diocese of Guildford out of the ancient diocese of Winchester, together with that of Portsmouth, had been discussed for many years in the earlier part of the past century. The creation of a separate diocese of Guildford, comprising the county of Surrey excluding its eastern corridor but including north-east Hampshire, was aimed at what was interestingly called at the time “better shepherding” and “spiritual efficiency”. The church, like the constitution of the realm, continually changes and develops as circumstances require. After its safe passage through the Church Assembly and the other place, the then Bishop of Winchester, Theodore Woods, newly translated from Peterborough, introduced the Church Assembly Measure into your Lordships' House. But an unexpected and eloquent ambush was executed by the then Bishop of Durham, Hensley Henson, which would have had fatal consequences had not the swiftest tactical action been taken by the then Archbishop of Canterbury, who successfully proposed an adjournment. Two weeks later, after a long debate and with powerful support from the Archbishop of Canterbury, your Lordships' House was “Content”, but only by a margin of 10 votes, that there should be such an entity as the diocese of Guildford. I stand before you.

I begin here because a debate concerning culture should take into account the importance of knowing our history. I know that the Minister, originally a historian, will support that—in a different vein, I refer noble Lords to the earlier comment of the noble Lord, Lord Baker. To understand who we are and where we are to go, we need to know where we have come from. This is true of communities and society as well as individuals and indeed a diocese.

The diocese of Guildford includes within its boundaries two excellent university establishments, the University of Surrey and Royal Holloway College, the latter a pioneer of women’s university education, with particular strengths today in the creative arts and in interfaith relationships and chaplaincy. The University of Surrey—I speak not only as a member of court but as a personal friend of the former and present vice-chancellors—has recently rejoiced in the opening of its Surrey Sports Park with world-class facilities, not least for swimming and pre-Olympic training. It includes training and sports facilities for the disabled, including world-class sportsmen and women with disability. It is an important development. Another recent development there has seen the association of the Guildford School of Acting with the university. At the University of Surrey, we are further engaged in an innovative, multi-faith centre where people of all faiths will be able to pray in their distinct sacred spaces but also to meet together, eat together, discuss together and work together—faith and academy working together to enhance social capital and cohesion. At Woking, incidentally, also in the diocese of Guildford, we have the oldest mosque in the country. In Guildford, there flourishes a fine school of contemporary music; at Oxshott, at the other end of the musical scale, is the Yehudi Menuhin School; and at Farnham there is the University for the Creative Arts. Guildford’s Yvonne Arnaud Theatre is well known, and Woking’s New Vic Theatre hosts National Theatre productions and Glyndebourne on tour. Also in Surrey, uniquely for this country, is the Wintershall Passion play.

I must also mention fine museums throughout Surrey, particularly the awardwinning Lightbox in Woking—presently offering a Walter Sickert exhibition—and the Watts Gallery at Compton, where Jeremy Hunt, the Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport recently graced its restoration “topping out” ceremony. I particularly commend the Watts Gallery’s community outreach programme, as befits the memory of the painter GF Watts, who had a very serious social conscience.

One of the most interesting observations that I made when I moved to the diocese of Guildford five and a half years ago was of the Surrey social conscience. In the cathedral there is a memorial to the Jarrow marchers of the depressed 1930s and the Surrey collection for them. In fact, Surrey and north-east Hampshire were relatively poor before the coming of the railway. That, I know, takes a little bit of believing. There was of course a vein of prosperity running through the county: the wool trade. As I stand in your Lordships' House, I am reminded that the arms of my see include no fewer than 12 woolsacks. With the railway, Surrey, in the words of Arthur Mee, became London's nearest neighbour and we became commuter-land for Waterloo and the City of London. Today, we lie between the airports of Gatwick and Heathrow, and Surrey has become a global, multinational commuter-land. This does not mean that there are no pockets of deprivation within Surrey and north-east Hampshire. Researched evidence of this can be found in the report, Hidden Surrey, commissioned by the Surrey Community Foundation, of which I declare I have the honour and responsibility to be a member.

In this debate, I would be remiss if I did not draw your Lordships’ attention to that considerable heritage of which I as bishop, with the clergy and lay people of my diocese, have some responsibility for: the parish churches of Surrey and north-east Hampshire. Guildford's cathedral, by Edward Maufe, has been unduly neglected, but no longer do people speak of it disparagingly as akin to a power station—in any case, cathedrals ought to be power stations. Pevsner rightly speaks of the cathedral’s interior as “luminous”. In that interior sings a cathedral choir of national excellence and space is also regularly inhabited by local musicians such as the Guildford Symphony and Philharmonic Orchestras with their choruses, as well as national orchestras.

Pevsner, it has to be said, spoke of Surrey as “doubly unlucky”. He meant by that its contemporary proximity to London and its ancient remoteness from anywhere else, thus its comparative paucity of grand architecture. But he rightly excepted its ancient village churches and surrounding houses. In networks today made up largely of metropolitan and global commuters, the village green and the parish church, not to speak of the disappearing pub and post office, are important icons of human continuity and community. They are for all the community. But such a precious built heritage is enormously costly to maintain—I speak now of the parish churches rather than the pubs. About £110 million a year is spent annually simply by the Church of England on keeping up listed places of worship, to which local congregations contribute two-thirds. This is a good working partnership. Nationally, as well as in Surrey, the Listed Places of Worship Grant Scheme, which refunds the cost of VAT on repairs to all such buildings, has been enormously important in maintaining the fabric of these churches, open for all. Three recent grants in Guildford diocese were concerned with additional community facilities. The scheme is due to end in March next year, with no replacement in sight, which seems like a curious blindness to the contribution of faith communities to the wider culture and well-being of society. Some years ago, the bishops in the West Midlands were invited to scrutinise a draft regional description of cultural activities. Church buildings did get a perfunctory mention, but its drafters had forgotten the Three Choirs Festival, the oldest cultural festival in the country. I urge Her Majesty's Government to avoid such partial blindness in respect of a continuation of the Listed Places of Worship Grant Scheme.

In conclusion—and speaking of seeing—I offer four ways of seeing the diocese of Guildford. There is the magnificent view of Surrey and north-east Hampshire from the Hog's Back, but do not stop too suddenly on the dual carriageway. There is the extraordinary view of the North Downs from Newlands Corner, with range after range of hills beautifully composing themselves like a Claude landscape. Alternatively, although I am not sure that I can recommend this, an excellent view can be obtained, if only momentarily, at 200 feet up on the rollercoaster at Thorpe Park. My recommended choice is from the top of the tower of Guildford Cathedral, with views over the downs as far as Epsom to the north-east and Hampshire and Sussex to west and south. This last vantage point I shall be happy to arrange a visit to, should any noble Lord so desire.

Should today’s debate overrun its scheduled timing, I beg the indulgence of your Lordships' House and the Minister if I leave in the early evening to be at an engagement leading a service of worship for Corpus Christi at one of my parish churches.