CofE bishops - doing the right thing (at last)

Watching the Church of England do the right thing can sometimes feel like watching a dogged oil tanker reverse into a tight parking space at night, with no wing mirrors and an upside down map. It'll get there eventually but its not clear how and it can take so many different attempts arrival seems unlikely.

This week a platoon of bishops signed a letter to the Observor calling on the government to pass a series of ammendments to its proposal to cap benefit payments to families. About time, of course, and the church has not been silent on the government's work so far, but this still marks a significant departure. This is partly because it includes a series of additions to improve the proposal, highly specific and drafted with the help of a major charity. They all look eminnently sensible. It is also partly because 18 bishops signed the letter, a rare and impressive show of unity, although one which does you wondering why on earth the others didn't.

And what a joy it is to see the right wing papers have to cope with a sensible, thoughtful and intellectual reproach from the heart of establishment England against an extremist government. In the wake of the St Paul's protests (ongoing) which saw an out pouring of bile from the Sun, etc, it is nothing short of delightful to find that the church is not fearful of doing the right thing in the face of bigotted unpopularity.

Should we forget?

My Spanish friend told me of his mother's reaction when she heard about Britain's two minute silence to observe the war dead on 11 November. "That," she said, "is a civilised country." There is something much more humbling about a silence than there is about a cheer, or a trumpet blast, or a "hell yeah".

A few days earlier a German friend had told me how much he liked the red 'poppies' the British wear to mark Remembrance Sunday; the ambiguity of the symbol, he argued, gave a suitably de-politicised badge which the whole country, regardless of political affiliation, could rally around. More attractive too, he argued, than any equivalent in Europe.

Buying a poppy can almost be done on auto-pilot for most of us at this time of year but it also brings on soul searching - many in 1919 thought we should forget, not remember. The line between commemoration and valorisation is surprisingly thin. At my church the two minute silence began with the playing of the Last Post, the beautiful, haunting military bugle call. 'For the Fallen', the poem read to commemorate the day, is only steps from noting 'dulce et decorum est pro patria mori'. But to refuse these rituals on the grounds that they glamorise would be to throw the baby out with the bath water. Far more dangerous that we forget the horrors of war than that in remembering we also do so with some pride in the sacrifice. Sometimes we inherit traditions; sometimes we choose them.