ii.The power of good questions

One of the peculiarities of working in an Anglican Foundation University is that contributions on the part of the chaplain can, rightly or wrongly, be taken as attempts to bolster the Anglican hegemony. The content of what we say may not be heard, in such circumstances, for fear that we seek to impose an alien agenda that serves the interest of just one particular group. Whether this constitutes a valid position is questionable, but I shall let it pass here for the sake of making a different point. It is this: there are times when the best way to draw upon one’s Anglican (Christian) perspective is as a vantage point from which to open up a set of useful and powerful questions. Posing a question saves us from the perception of imposing an agenda, but may nevertheless open up the democratic exploration of perspectives we hold as important.

In just the same way, questions have the power to open up relationships and so serve the formation of community. Questions invite, and thereby respect, the views of others. Their openness serves the construction of common ground. Yet the well-formed question can also devastatingly trip up an apparently assures position. Questions serve the quest for truth.

In this regard the arts have a special place. An art installation of some form, a picture, a sculpture, a poem or a film, all of these can be forms of embodied question that challenge the status quo. Thus art can enable:

• Seeing aspects of the world we already see in a new way;
• Uncovering aspects of the world that have remained hidden or obscured;
• Imagining new possibilities and alternative futures;
• The making of experience meaningful and significant.

Within a Church Foundation university, there is much scope for collaboration between chaplaincy and art. Indeed, this can be one way of breaking the improper conspiracy of silence that sometimes holds sway concerning the viewpoints of faith. As Lucy Forster-Smith (2013) correctly observes, enforced silence in any form is an affront to the principle of academic freedom (pp.313, 317). Thus when such silence concerns the insights of the narrative held to be central to the identity of a Church Foundation it is thus a double offence against the determinative character of that institution.

Lastly, while no institution is perfect, every institution has a natural tendency to bolster its own self-image. Christopher Moody (1999) puts the matter well: “Every institution has the tendency to promote total explanations for its own purposes that exclude other points of view and sources of critique. In that sense, all institutions are naturally idolatrous.” (p.22). Permitting, even encouraging, the questions that follow from the observations and reflections of chaplains is one way in which our institutions can seek to build in a healthy capacity for self-criticism. Though a good deal of tact and diplomacy may be required, we should not shy away from fulfilling this role. Again, as in so much in chaplaincy, here everything depends on the quality of relationships we have been able to establish.