Review
Culture
4 min read

Most popular 2024: Graham Tomlin

From princes to politicians, Graham's top takes of the year.

Nick is the senior editor of Seen & Unseen.

A young man wearing a dark suit talks to a minister wearing regalia.
Prince William talks with the Dean of Westminster Abbey, 2019.
LPhot Belinda Alker, OGL 3, via Wikimedia Commons.

We’re wrapping up the year reviewing what articles were most popular with Seen & Unseen readers. Our first analysis is of Bishop Graham Tomlin’s takes on the year’s events. What did our editor-in-chief write about?

2024 was billed as the year of elections, so it’s no surprise to see two takes on the US presidential election. And back in the United Kingdom, Graham also commented on the age old tension between politicians and clerics.  Public scandals also caught his eye, from the  injustice meted out by the Post Office, to the pure evil of abuse.

Away from the politics of the public realm, Graham explored the perennial themes of the sacred and secular views of the world. However, this year, he also wrote on paganism. If your first image that comes to mind is of ancient cultures, think again. And in the very personal realm of belief, Graham’s take on Prince William’s doubts

Finally, could a 2024 review not mention podcasts? As a scholar of theologian Martin Luther, Graham, of course had views on The Rest is History’s episode about Luther – The Rest is Luther...

In reverse order...

10 - Did God tell Joe Biden to stand down?

His story teaches us to listen a little more intently to what comes our way.

Explore more articles on themes in this article: Ageing, Politics, Providence.

9 - The Church and the State need to disagree on asylum seekers

Politicians don’t always get how church and state relate, but both have a vital and different role to play when it comes to immigration.

The Church and the State need to disagree on asylum seekers | Seen & Unseen

Explore more articles on themes in this article:  Church and state, Politics.

8 - Are we Secular, Christian or Pagan?

After the Paris Olympics, Graham Tomlin wonders whether a full-on secularism could veer back towards a modern paganism. 

Explore more articles on themes in this article: BeliefPaganism.

7 - After the fall: the Post Office scandal and the search for justice

Falls from grace, like that of the Post Office’s CEO, prompt Graham Tomlin to dissect the problems of justice and mercy.

Explore more articles on themes in this article: Creed, Ethics, Justice.

6 - John Smyth: how evil masks itself as goodness

Be alert to the cloaked and warped wherever it occurs.

Explore more articles on themes in this article: Creed.

5 - Did God save Donald Trump?

In the aftermath of the assassination attempt, Graham Tomlin asks whether or not we can see the hand of God in it.

Did God save Donald Trump? | Seen & Unseen

Explore more articles on themes in this article: BeliefDeath & Life, Politics, Providence.

4 - The difference between Richard Dawkins and Ayaan Hirsi Ali

How we decide what is true rests on where we start from.

Explore more articles on themes in this article: Atheism, Belief, Epistemology.

3  - God in the garbage: Egypt's unlikely megachurch

Cairo's Church of the Zabballeen is the largest Church, and one of the most unusual in the Middle East. Graham Tomlin tells its story and that of the remarkable priest who inspired it.

Explore more articles on themes in this article: Coptic Church, Identity, Middle East.

2 - The Rest is Luther

Did 'The Rest is History' get Luther right? Graham Tomlin gives his verdict

Explore more articles on themes in this article: Creed, Faith, Justification.

1  - Prince William's doubt is normal - it's impossible to be certain whether there is a God

Our limited human understanding means we will never fully understand God in this life, writes Graham Tomlin.

Prince William's doubt is normal - it's impossible to be certain whether there is a God | Seen & Unseen

Explore more articles on themes in this article: BeliefDoubt, Faith, Royalty.

0  - A history of Israel and Palestine – 4,000 years of history in 2,500 words

First published in late 2023, this analysis remains the most popular Seen & Unseen article to date.

The land at the heart of the Middle Eastern crisis is at the centre of world attention again. For those whose grasp on the history behind the situation is hazy, Graham Tomlin offers a brief survey.

Explore more articles on themes in this article: Gaza, Israel, Middle East, Old Testament, War & Peace.

Browse all Graham's articles

Explore more than 80 articles.

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Graham Tomlin

Editor-in-Chief

Column
Books
Character
Culture
Time
4 min read

The true myths we tell about how we got here

Memoirs are the stories that make us who we are

George is a visiting fellow at the London School of Economics and an Anglican priest.

A jumbled pile of old photographs.
Jon Tyson on Unsplash.

I’ve been asked to write a memoir. It’s because I’ve been an Anglican priest for 20 years and it’s been quite a ride – deployed to a tube station when the terrorist bombs went off on 7 July 2005, served the Archbishop of Canterbury as the child-abuse catastrophe unfolded, been the religion editor of a national newspaper and helped countless people to die and to marry as a rural parish rector. 

So, I suppose it meets the minimum criterion that a memoir shouldn’t be about me so much as the events through which I passed. But it also raises questions about what a memoir is for, as well as what it’s about. I wonder about its purpose and that leads to choices of style. 

I had in mind a hybrid fiction model, in which the only made-up character was me, heightening the drama of it all by being maybe bisexual and a cokehead (neither of which I have been) who encounters all the real and interesting people that I have. That might at least make it a bigger challenge for libel lawyers. 

A publisher at lunch this week persuaded me that this is a very bad idea. Commercial fiction is where the action is and literary fiction (even if I could do it) is dead. It has to fit in one of the silos that people will buy – crime, romance, fantasy and so on. And I’m an old, white man, to boot. 

But memoir is a good stable, she said, and it didn’t need to be a dull, linear narrative. In fact it mustn’t be that. I’m beginning to think it must be a drama and, as such, as creative an act as fiction. 

So, not history. Or maybe, like history, it depends on how you look at it and how we remember. As someone quite famous remarked recently, recollections may vary. And we all have an agenda in relating them. Memoir is not a record, it’s about experience, emotion, interpretation and score-settling (I’m looking forward to that last bit). 

The most obvious exemplar of this is the political memoir, which lately has ticked towards being written by the spouses of politicians. Salacious revelation seems to be the currency here, all the better if a former prime minister is alleged to have said he’d like to drag you into the undergrowth and give you one. 

Memoir is also the embarrassing uncle of autobiography. It amounts only to what we remember, as we wave a glass about in the pub. 

One rather hopes, for reasons of aesthetics as much as decorum, that this indicates that memoir is as much about what times were like as about being a simple record of them. This makes sense as I face the prospect, for example, of relating being with a 26-year-old mother of two as she died. 

If it’s such an essentially subjective exercise, then memoir is a poor country cousin of history. Some have made it consciously so in their titles – Clive James’s Unreliable Memoirs and Python Graham Chapman’s A Liar’s Autobiography come to mind. 

Incidentally, memoir is also the embarrassing uncle of autobiography. It amounts only to what we remember, as we wave a glass about in the pub, rather than the marshalling of peer-approved facts. This is what makes it so sensationally subjective. I remember standing alone in a boorish institution, heroically speaking truth to power. You remember a blithering idiot. The difference is I’ve got a publisher. 

In this sense, memoirs are the stories that make us who we are. Or, naturally, who we’d like to be, or like to be seen as. In ancient Greek terms, we deploy our mythos rather than our logos, our allegory rather than our empirical reality. 

But, again, these stories make us who we are. And not just the stories we tell. The stories of our nations are similarly formative. The stories that the world’s major faiths tell also define us, whether we believe them or not.  

The Christian gospels are memoirs. The first three of them attempt to describe what happened. The fourth, John, is rather more allegorical. But they all, in the Jewish tradition of storytelling, in one way or another seek to describe what it was like to be in the insurgent Nazarene movement, as much as what actually happened. 

Matthew, the tax-collector, writes for his audience of Jews. Luke is concerned with what it all means for the poor – and not just those economically so. Mark, first out of the trap, wants to consider what it all means for non-Jews. Their recollections may vary. But it’s reckless to suggest that this invalidates their testimony. 

My memoir will contain no gospel truth. But there’s no point in embarking on an exercise that is only about what happened over 20 years of priesthood. It has to be about what it was like too.  

I think that its epigraph may read: “Nothing in this book happened. Everything in it is true.”