Article

Belief

Creed

General Election 24

Politics

21 June 2024

3 min read

The one thing we won’t bet on

The election gambling row highlights an odd outlier.

James Sampson-Foster

James is a priest in the Church of England.

A cartoon depicts a slot machine opposite the Houses of Parliament

Nick Jones/Midjourney.ai.

I’m not a betting man, but I’ll wager you’ve seen a gambling ad recently.

In fact, I’d put good money on it – or at least somebody has.

If you’ve been watching football you’ll see ads for betting companies in the ad breaks, on billboards – sometimes on the kit itself.

And then there are the grinning celebrity endorsers, each advertising a wonderful world of chance-based amusements.

That’s a lot of money on billboards and sponsorships.

And on our high streets up and down the country, you’re never very far from a betting shop, each of them with windows guaranteeing the best odds and offering free bets on well, almost anything, really.

If you can think of it, you can probably bet on it.

Sports fixtures? The results of reality TV shows? The date of the next general election?

Can you bet on it? You betcha!

Betting is everywhere, though it’s fair to say there’s a bit more of it in some places than others.

Betting shops are 10 times more likely to be found in the most deprived areas of the UK than its most wealthy ones.

Still – even if you happen to find yourself without a betting shop in walking distance, with smartphone betting now there’s no need to even pop into a bookies.

The fun needs never stop.

All this proves is that gambling is everywhere and that people will put a bet on almost anything.

With such universal access, I shouldn’t have been surprised that people have been betting on the date of the next general election.

I have heard many people say that a little flutter brings a bit of excitement to things – and if anything is in need of a bit of excitement, it’s a general election.

Perhaps it was this need to alleviate the tedium which has led to the seemingly improbable number of people from the Conservative Party now under investigation by the Gambling Commission. At current count, there are two candidates, as well as the Tory director of campaigning and his wife. Oh, and one of the Prime Minister’s police protection officers.

By the time you read this – there may be more. And no, please don’t place a bet on that.

Am I disappointed that public officials may have been using insider information to gain an advantage at the bookies? I suppose so. But that’s not what I find interesting.

All this proves is that gambling is everywhere and that people will put a bet on almost anything.

And well, I already knew that.

No – what is interesting is that in our society people will bet on almost anything. Or more specifically – everything, except one thing.

When it comes to betting on whether England will score, or who will win at Strictly, a hunch is enough. A gut feeling is enough to separate us from our hard earned cash.

But when it comes to whether or not there is a God, nope.

We’re going to need hard evidence for that one.

We’re going to need absolute certainty, incontrovertible proof.

No margin for error.

We’ll bet on anything else – everything else. But not that.

Which, I have to say, strikes me as odd.

Why won’t we take out a bet that costs us nothing?

Most of us in Church are there because of a hunch. A gut feeling. We call it faith, and it’s a free gift.

Do you care for a wager?

Snippet

Belief

Community

Creed

10 March 2025

2 min read

Giles Coren dips his toe in the water - will he take the plunge?

In a disembodied digital age, he's made a decision to participate instead.

Jamie Mulvaney

Jamie is Vicar of St Michael's Chester Square, London.

A casually dressed man strides down the aisle of a church between the pews.

Danique Godwin on Unsplash

It takes a lot of courage to write about what you don’t know. Newspaper columnists and restaurant critics are paid to be omniscient, and Giles Coren is very good at channeling observation and insight into his articles in an acerbic and amusing way.

He recently wrote in The Times about what he does and doesn’t know about Christianity. He wrote with humility and humour, which amongst other things made me wonder how many of us who are part of the church would do well to be honest about what we don’t know.

The journey that Coren tells about his “not not believing” is staked along the way by the language of the church and its buildings. In other words: worship.

Belle Tindall recently wrote about the prejudice met by Kate in White Lotus when she tells her friends that she finds going to church “very moving.” To them it is “self-defeating”, but perhaps it opens us up the possibility that there is a greater centre of gravity than our own selves. Going to church has been associated with so many unhelpful divisions and distractions and often the church is to blame.

But believers and non-believers alike run the risk of missing out on so much of faith. We limit it to information and observation, when the full benefit is found in participation. Whether pilgrims, prodigals or someone else altogether, we can analyse and stand on the sidelines as much as we want, but Coren and his son are taking part:

“I gave up not going to church some time ago. Most Sundays I am there, praying and singing — another lapsed atheist hoping that the non-existent God he was brought up not to believe in doesn’t see.”

Perhaps this act, and writing about it in The Times, is even braver given our seemingly disembodied, digital, post-pandemic individualistic lives. A podcast may give you propositional truths you can accept or reject, but being caught up in worship is in a different order altogether. Coren writes:

“And I have a sense that God is there — in the tradition, the words, the 2,000 years of conviction, the imagination of all the people who came before me…”

God is the interesting thing about Christianity, and Christians believe that this God became human. Amidst all that we don’t know and don’t see, going to church makes tangible what can feel intangible.

Coren writes that the only moment he feels left out is in Communion, and that perhaps one day he will get baptised. The Greek word where we get ‘baptism’ from means to overwhelm. In an overwhelming world, more and more people are seeing the merit in being overwhelmed with God. If we are to experience this, it means that at some point we need to dive into the water.