FCCU
James Porter gives his own interpretation on matters
John dashed the last dozen yards to the meeting of FCCU. He was late as he had just been speaking to a friend he hadn’t seen for over a year (as he had spent the last year in America). A low rumble of what sounded like chanting echoed from the lecture hall. He quickly pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The lecture hall was packed with people, few of whom he recognised, each wearing a distinctive white T-shirt. On the front of each T-shirt was written “our way” in large letters and below that two stick figures were celebrating; on the reverse “your way” was written and below that what appeared to be a stick figure burning at the stake, or perhaps he was just burning in a fire — John wasn’t sure.
The chanting stopped as he entered and hundreds of eyes focused on him. A few whispers went round the room, and John was sure he saw someone pointing at him. Jane, one of the few he recognised, hurried over and pulled one of the T-shirts out of her handbag for him to wear. “Put this on,” she whispered, “quickly.” The look on her face bordered on panic.
John fumbled with the T-shirt, noticing that everyone was still facing him. He pulled it on quickly over his own T-shirt. A few people looked away, seemingly satisfied, but most still focused on him.
“Sit down here,” Jane instructed, pointing to a seat near the front. John took a quick glance at the door, but then sat down. Jane sat down beside him, blocking his exit. John glanced round behind himself, only to see dozens look quickly away. He turned and focused on the empty lectern as a man in his mid thirties, presumably tonight’s speaker, headed up and began talking.
“I think we’ve recited the Basis of Belief for long enough now. We’ll need to work on subsection seventeen of section four a little bit more — but it’s getting there.” He paused and took a sip of water from a glass that had been hidden inside the lectern. “I see we have a new member. What’s your name?” The room silenced and John shifted about uncomfortably, before saying his name in a faltering voice.
“Everyone welcome John,” the speaker instructed. The room spoke as one: “We welcome you to the Fellowship of Correct Conversion and Union. We urge you to accept our way in all things and trust that you will come to see that our way is the truth.”
Was he meant to say something? John looked desperately at the speaker who said nothing. Whispers went round the room again. Jane nudged him in the ribs. What was he supposed to say? Jane nudged him again, this time painfully. “Th-thank you,” he said, wondering if it would be enough. The whispering intensified — obviously it hadn’t been.
The speaker took another sip of water, a disapproving frown on his face. “Tonight we’re going to do something a little different. I’m going to call out a reference from the Word and you are to say it. John you are welcome to join in.” His eyes homed in on John’s. John looked away. “Okay second Timothy threesixteen.” John was relieved — he knew this one.
“All Scripture is G-,” John stopped as he realised everyone else was saying something different. The speaker asked everyone to repeat it and John listened intently. “All Scripture is the inspired and infallible Word of God and is essential for teaching, rebuking, correcting and salvation.” John shifted forwards in his seat, ready to object, when Jane shook her head and pushed him back.
“That’s not…”
“Shut up John.”
“What’s going on here?”
Jane stayed silent, and then joined in the rest of the room with the next scripture quote.
“I need to go to the toilet.” Jane seemed to be thinking.
“Are you going to let me out?” Jane reluctantly got to her feet.
John stood up and exited the row of seats, only to find two members of FCCU blocking his path. Should he scream? Run? Try to push through? He looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the speaker shake his head. The two blocking his path moved aside.
John hurried out of the room, not daring to look back.
One of the problems with satire is the difficulty of clearly and convincingly stating serious points, so I’ve decided to include a few extra points and a little clarification in a more direct form. What follows is not intended as a coherent argument, but as a series of points for consideration and clarification.
For those familiar with the UCCF organisation, the title of the story is an obvious reference. For those not, it is a meaningless acronym. UCCF, or the Universities and Colleges Christian Fellowship, is a conservative evangelical Christian organisation based in universities and colleges, of which York University CU is a part. The story is an attack on certain aspects of it.
The York CU recently produced T-shirts with the words “one way” on them. I have to assume that the interpretation from those outside the organisation would have been “our way” (as in the story).
The apparently dogmatic and doctrinaire attitude of the organisation can be seen in the reliance on the Doctrinal Basis (parodied as the Basis of Belief in the story). To sign this is a requirement for post holders within and speakers to the group. It is a reliance that amounts to little more than idolisation, a removal of God from matters of salvation or faith and replacing Him with a mere creed; however, UCCF are hardly the only organisation to tend towards such a way of thinking.
One problem with a specific doctrine in the Doctrinal Basis is raised in the story through a misquote of 2 Timothy 3:16 (“All Scripture is God breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness”). This misquote was included to raise the issue of interpretation within an infallible system — there is a very big difference between infallibility of scripture and infallibility of interpretation. And if UCCF is forced to consider their interpretation and thus their creed fallible, then how can it be a requirement to sign it for any purpose?
The overarching theme of the story is one of secularisation, as can be seen through the absence of any reference to God, except for the one scriptural misquote, in the entire story. This secularisation is, I believe, the ultimate result of a doctrinaire attitude to faith. Faith cannot be summed up in a few lines of creed, cannot be modelled using three intersecting triangles and a circle, and cannot be genuinely understood in an intellectual way. Any attempt to do so will fail, and to make the adherence to such an attempt (and a poor one in this case) the requirement for becoming a post-holder or speaking to an organisation is, in my opinion, simply unacceptable.