There’s a series on ITV at the moment called “Grantchester”. It features a handsome young vicar, the Rev Sidney Chambers, who is regularly seen in the pub smoking like a train and enjoying more whiskey than he should. He’s having a sexual relationship with a young mother who’s awaiting a divorce from her husband.
His young curate is gay, and in desperation tried to get engaged to a woman which ended in disaster.
The vicar regularly helps his policeman pal, Geordie, solve crime cases.
Considering it’s set in the 1950s, this might all seem very unorthodox, but of course we all identify with the characters simply because they are on the side of decency, fairness and justice.
In a recent episode, the clergyman and detective were foiled in their attempt to solve a case by their own police chief, who not only promoted a young constable over their heads, but protected a businessman involved in the crime.
To their annoyance, they noticed the chief, the constable and the criminal engaged in secret Freemason handshakes. Interestingly, the duo accepted there was little they could do, such was the sinister power of the Masons back in that decade.
One would imagine that in these days of openness and accountability, the power of secret societies is much diminished.
But as we approach an election, one wonders where the real power lies. Power to the people, as TV’s Wolfie Smith might have said. If only it was that simple.
Consider the influence that many forces in society have, and ask if they’re using this power for the good of others, and indeed whether they are in any way accountable to the people.
Does the press and media have too much influence, or power (there is surely a fine line between the two). The Daily Mail was recently accused of too negatively dictating the public mood – to the point of another paper’s columnist asking if the Mail’s editor was the “most dangerous man in Britain.”
Freedom of the press means that the Mail is entitled to use dark headlines such as “Enemies of the people” to describe judges who made a legal ruling on Brexit. But it was their role in the debate in Britain before last year’s referendum that I found particularly disturbing, with phrases such as “tsunami of migrants flooding across Europe” and headlines identifying “EU killers and rapists we’ve failed to deport.”
This wasn’t a one-off, either. It’s a startling fact that in the 23 weekdays before Britain’s EU referendum, the Mail led with immigration on 17 of them.
You may well argue that a newspaper isn’t able to sway public opinion to that extent, but there can be no doubt in my mind that fear of migrants was a major factor in the English vote to leave the EU.
Recently, Arlene Foster complained that the Nolan Show in particular had acted as judge and jury over the RHI scandal. It’s nothing new for the DUP to complain about the BBC, some of it coming from regular contributors who attempt to intimidate legitimate journalism.
It is part of the role of journalism to hold the powerful to account; in my opinion, the press and media in Northern Ireland robustly, but correctly, went after the heating story in that regard and while the Mail crosses the line regularly in abusing its power, the media here stayed on the right side of the line in its reporting.
They were asking questions which people wanted answered. Speaking truth to power is essential in a democracy.
While you can see how powerful an irresponsible media could be, and how sections could abuse their position bear in mind that it’s often only media exposure which stands between politicians and the abuse of their power. At all levels.
With power, surely, comes responsibility – whether that be media, the authorities or anyone who wields it.
Dig deeper, and we wonder who really influences power. Money is power for some, and you look at how the wealthy have a dark hold on power.
I said recently that the partition of this island created two parts dominated by opposing cultures; in the south, Catholicism unduly influenced the State to the point whereby we saw Protestantism dwindle as many left. The other side of the coin is that Northern Ireland was described as a Protestant parliament for a Protestant people, or an Orange state.
With partition heading for its centenary, this is all in the past, no? Well, it’s certainly true that in today’s modern Republic, the Catholic church is much, much less influential than ever, certainly in towns and cities. And in the north, the Orange Order doesn’t have the same hold on people that they had years ago when I heard stories of local lodges dictating Church of Ireland policy by threatening to get their senior members to leave and go to another parish.
But as we approach the General Election of 2017, surely it is pertinent to ask if parties of all sides have truly shaken off the shackles of the past. Especially as we see the big power blocks lining up against each other in Fermanagh-south Tyrone.
In this context, enter Church of Ireland Rector, Canon Mark Watson, whose much-publicised remarks in an Orange Hall have caused much consternation. Standing up to pray, of all things, the Canon referred to the controversy over Arlene Foster’s “blonde” comment about Michelle O’Neill. As Mrs Foster listened, he made some crack about being glad “they” are using hydrogen peroxide instead of making bombs with it. 
He says this was a joke. Far be it from me to advise a man of the cloth, but may I suggest he doesn’t head for the stand-up circuit any time soon. This remark was crass and tasteless, especially as he was prefacing a time of prayer. But in my opinion, he compounded his error by praying for victory for the Unionist candidate. (And I wonder what God will do if the other church-going candidates also pray to Him for victory.) What does this say to his parishioners, or other church folk, who would like to vote for another candidate? Is God not on their side?
I have nothing personal against Canon Watson, and he is after all entitled to his political viewpoint as a private citizen. But I found his intervention of Church into party politics distasteful, with the added distraction of him giving critics of Christianity more material to ridicule us. I found his behaviour appalling, unworthy of his calling. 
I’d have thought the Canon would better spend his time considering the greater power of God, and promoting peace, reconciliation and the love of Christ’s forgiveness. I know some people agree with me, others no doubt have played it down. For me, though, even more disturbing was the fact that this man, pictured in the press wearing an Orange collarette, was speaking in an Orange Hall. 
The Orange Order has faced something of a crisis over the years, not least because of the antics at Drumcree and has faced unbearable pressure from people who would deny them their parading tradition. I know of many decent members of the Order; indeed many of them were disgusted by some of their own at Drumcree and elsewhere. 
Others struggle with the Orange Order identity; is it a cultural, religious or political organisation? 
Orange folk are entitled to their beliefs and the freedom to express their culture. But they’re not entitled to wield political power. 
Let’s not go back to those days; or have we really left it all behind?