Lines from David Copperfield came to me forty years after I might have used them

Growing up accustomed to the gentle tolerance implicit in the beliefs of people in rural Somerset, moving to Northern Ireland in 1983 came as a severe shock. Of course, we had all heard of the Reverend Ian Paisley and his ilk, but there was a tendency to imagine that the views he expressed were the rants of an extreme minority and that the majority of ordinary people were reasonable, attached to a rational view of reality.

There came the unpleasant realisation that entrenched prejudiced views and expressions of vitriolic bigotry were widespread.  There were people whose conception of the divine was of a malignant and spiteful deity who liked no-one but themselves.  There were people who asserted that their beliefs granted them a righteousness that those  who would did not share such beliefs could not possess.  There were people who claimed that anyone who did not share their vicious brand of religiosity were bound for eternal position.

It was a graceless religion, one that had its roots in sectarian politics and Nineteenth Century sects and one that bore little resemblance to Jesus of the Gospels.

Driving from work last night, I heard the lines from David Copperfield which captured a sense of the religion of Northern Ireland in the 1980s.

Copperfield visits the kindly old Mr Chillip and they discuss the religion of Mr Murdstone, the man who had brought much misery into the life of Copperfield when he was young.

‘It is not often that I venture to give a non–medical opinion, I assure you. Mr. Murdstone delivers public addresses sometimes, and it is said,—in short, sir, it is said by Mrs. Chillip,—that the darker tyrant he has lately been, the more ferocious is his doctrine.’

‘I believe Mrs. Chillip to be perfectly right,’ said I.

‘Mrs. Chillip does go so far as to say,’ pursued the meekest of little men, much encouraged, ‘that what such people miscall their religion, is a vent for their bad humours and arrogance. And do you know I must say, sir,’ he continued, mildly laying his head on one side, ‘that I DON’T find authority for Mr. and Miss Murdstone in the New Testament?’

‘I never found it either!’ said I.

‘In the meantime, sir,’ said Mr. Chillip, ‘they are much disliked; and as they are very free in consigning everybody who dislikes them to perdition, we really have a good deal of perdition going on in our neighbourhood! However, as Mrs. Chillip says, sir, they undergo a continual punishment; for they are turned inward, to feed upon their own hearts, and their own hearts are very bad feeding

‘A vent for their bad humours and arrogance.’ Mr Chillip’s description captures the mood of a remark made by a friend during days in theological college. ‘Ian,’ he said, ‘there is theological conviction and there’s bad manners – what we see is just bad manners.’