I was interested to see that the trial Sunday opening of An Lanntair, the arts centre in Stornoway, has made at least the local pages of the BBC website. The question of Sunday opening is a major trial for our northern cousins up on Lewis and Harris and the issue has been extensively chewed over recently on the blog of Hebrides Writer (a post on which I also commented directly last week). (Interestingly, Katie’s post on the An Lanntair trial got a lot more reaction than her excellent post a year ago on the LGBT History month exhibition at the same venue.)
Katie’s views on the issue were set out at length and she makes a number of points, among them that the consultation has been poorly handled, not least with regard to the concerns of staff working at the centre; and on the potential damage to the link between art and faith.
As a committed trade unionist, you’ll find no argument from me on the need for consultation on issues affecting staff to be handled properly – and I too remember Usdaw’s involvement in the ‘Keep Sunday Special‘ campaign in England and Wales (Scotland has no such laws on Sunday trading) in the 1980s. Usdaw’s involvement was founded on the specific concern that Sunday opening was a threat to workers’ rights not least in terms of undermining Sunday working premia – an issue on which, I suspect, it will have been proved substantially right, at least outside Usdaw-recognised workplaces.
On the issue of the link between arts and faith, I’m not so sure. Artists surely want to get their work out and, in the example to which Katie points, potentially refusing to collaborate with an arts organisation looks a spectacular example of cutting off one’s nose to spite one’s face, aside of the issue that a publicly-funded organisation ought to be there for all the community, including those of different faiths and, of course, none at all. But, more than that, we see things a little differently down here at the southern end of the Hebrides. A predominantly Catholic island, South Uist has no problems with the Co-op being open on a Sunday (right up until 10pm), and we have a swimming pool and a gym (on Benbecula – an island where religious affiliations are mixed) that are open, too (and, judging by the noise coming from the pool today, people were having a whale of a time). But no-one is going to tell me either that my hard-working crofting neighbours who take the time away from their sheep and cattle to pack out the local church on a Sunday are not properly Christian; or that South Uist doesn’t produce music worth listening to, as evidenced by Ceòlas Uibhist’s plans to build on these traditions with a new venue celebrating Gàidhlig music, dance and cultural heritage. I doubt – although I don’t precisely know – that the issue of Sunday opening of Cnoc Soilleir has been much debated within Ceòlas as it finalises its plans (and I fully expect it to be open). And neither is it about Gàidhlig itself, South Uist having a slightly higher percentage of Gàidhlig speakers than everywhere on Lewis other than Barvas – itself an important point in terms of the challengers to customs and traditions.
So the link between art and faith is not as simple as all that, and, while we should always be sensitive around issues of cultural heritage, the issue up at An Lanntair is really about a rather narrow version of interpretations of the Christian faith. I don’t think I’m missing the point here – the culture is (very) different on these two islands but Gàidhlig psalm singers sing from the heart and from an expression of their personal faith in their God: and I don’t believe that, were the arts centre, or the swimming pool, or the shops, to be open on a Sunday up on Lewis and Harris, that this will make that singing or that faith burn any less brighter.
The picture of today’s An Lanntair pickets on the BBC website story is illustrated with a biblical quote (from the Book of Exodus) about keeping the Sabbath Day holy, written in the pre-Christian era and for people for whom the Sabbath would have been (and still is, of course) Saturday, not Sunday. There’s an irony there which is not lost in the shift to Sunday as the holy day for Christians. Despite being a non-churchgoer myself, Sunday still seems to me to have a different character, and to be a day of rest, regardless of whether the shops and the swimming pool are open or not, and that’s been true regardless of when I lived right in the centre of Perth or here in a remote South Uist community. Sunday opening doesn’t define faith – your God does. And there is surely time and room for both, even on a Sunday. Or, indeed, a Saturday.