Minister sets out in search of the soul of city’s new urban neighbourhoods

Some of the balconies with river views boast bijou aluminium tables and chairs, hinting at relaxation and a cappuccino-fuelled Sunday morning enjoyment of city life; others seem merely to be handy places to dry the washing; a few abodes have all their blinds unfurled, shutting out the world. This smartly regenerated area is a thousand per cent easier on the eye than the crumbling riverside warehouses that fringed the river a couple of decades ago. And yet, at this time of day at least, it feels soulless.

Threading through the jungle, it’s difficult to find what might be called a hub, but then maybe the largely transient 14,400 population of these city centre developments is not looking for community with a central core in the traditional sense of the word. It finds its life and soul in favourite pubs, bars, restaurants, theatres and clubs down town. For most, living in the centre of the city is about convenience – a modern, low-maintenance home, work and leisure on the doorstep, no hassle of running a car – and these positives may counterbalance the fact that you know very few of your neighbours.

Not much chance of doorstepping these city dwellers, what with the high security doors, entryphones and, in some places, electric gates. In many ways the 20-and-30-somethings who live here are impenetrable to anyone who doesn’t have an appointment. The culture here is the opposite of a Brooklyn or Barcelona, where friends bump into each other on the steps of the building, at one of many late-opening local coffee shops or while walking the baby or pooch in the park.

Three months ago 34-year-old James Barnett – the Reverend James Barnett, to give him his proper title – left his job as a vicar at St George’s Church in the city centre, to take up a role that has no attachment to any particular parish. He is the pioneering Minister to New Communities, with a pastoral role to those who have come to live in the centre of the city and along the banks of the River Aire in recent years. No dog collar (“I detest them”), jeans, chunky zipped sweater, sturdy shoes, shaven head... he looks like a trendy flat-dweller himself, but no, he and his wife Clare and their three young children live a little distance out of town. His new turf is an area of the city seen as untouched by the Church, and much of his early work centres on finding out what exactly the culture of the community is, as well as finding bridges into it via intensive networking.

Barnett suspects that, despite the ostensible liveliness and the many distractions on offer in the city centre, for some who go home to their convenient units with rooftop or river view, loneliness may be a fact of life. He makes no bones about “always feeling passionate” with regard to recruitment, but sees his job as one of mapping out what’s happening in the city centre, offering pastoral support, signposting people to the churches nearby, and where appropriate, building a “new expression of the church” for those who won’t turn out for services on a Sunday.

By this he means meeting, talking, arguing – and of course praying with those who may wish to pray with him at home. After we met, he had several one-to-one meetings with residents, some of whom simply wanted to talk. One man meets Barnett regularly for Bible readings. His appointment, coming not long after the Church of England appointed a vicar to the local business community, seems to be part of a realisation in the light of dwindling attendance at churches across the land, that the clergy have to do more to take God on the road and market him.

“The falling off of congregations has slowed down, but the trend is still downwards”, he says. “But at St George’s numbers went up during my five years there, with a growing number of young families, students and young professionals showing an interest. Six or seven hundred would come on Sundays, and I think that was down to simple, relevant communication of messages, use of contemporary music, the linking of the work of the church to the problems of the world and a desire to make God relevant to people’s life and work, asking questions such as ‘what does it mean to be a lawyer and a Christian?’”

He was born in Halifax to a family where Christianity was “part and parcel of everyday life”. He dropped out of a physics degree at Sheffield University to study theology. “I have two equally useless theology degrees, but I became certain that God wanted me to be a vicar.” After ordination he worked for four years on a council estate in Bolton. “I felt called to work among the disadvantaged and disempowered, real people struggling with life.”

James Barnett makes regular reference to books spiritual, philosophical and scientific (“I’d really like to meet Richard Dawkins...”) and even management theory. Nuggets of the latter find their way into his his lively, engaging conversation: “It (Christianity) is a good product. We just have to market it clearly and well. I’m not about meeting people and five minutes later trying to drag them down the road to church. I believe in provoking conversations that interest people, that help them to question what’s happening around them, and even having arguments about the existence of God. I don’t mind meeting them again and again and continuing the same conversation. I’m open to listening, but so long as we keep talking I hope one day to convince them of my way of thinking.”

His business card has the three simple words FAITH HOPE LOVE set in white against a rich purple background. Those are the underpinnings of his life, but he feels the wider church has lost sight of how it should be spreading these messages in favour of political navel-gazing. “We’ve become a freak show, talking about ourselves. But that’s no use to the world around us. The Church exists to bless the world and love the world and transform it into the world it should be.” Clearly not a traditionalist, James Barnett’s networking through city centre organisations has led him to meet many people who’ve said: ‘You’re not at all how I thought a vicar would be...’ He’s ready to take on (almost) any subject with his potential flock of urbanites.

“The Church is in the business of forgiveness but is slow to say sorry about some of its own actions. (Where gays are concerned) all we’ve managed to do is exclude a section of society by being unloving. We get lost in theological arguments rather than seeing someone, gay or not, as another person to love. My job is not to judge but to help each person in their relationship with God. As for the issue of women bishops, it’s important to the Church but not to the world around us. As I see it, the only issue is not someone’s sex but how good they will be at the job”.

If anyone can make the message of God accessible it is James Barnett. He has the calling and a gift for clear thinking and expression. No doubt he will be a very good friend to the city.

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