Cover star
ONE of the best parts of the book-writing process is when it’s all over (or, at least, the hard work is done), and you are presented with the cover design. That is to say, this is one of the best parts if you like what your publishers’ designers have come up with.
In my case, I am thrilled with the cover of my upcoming book Unmaking Mary: Shattering the myth of perfect motherhood. After much expectation and months of months of sheer grind in writing the book in the early hours of the morning, at weekends, and late at night, it was wonderful to see the beautiful cover.
It reminded me a little of meeting my children after giving birth. After months of hard work (I did not enjoy pregnancy), in which I imagined what my little ones would look like, it was a lovely moment finally to meet them. Neither the book cover nor the boys were what I had imagined — but they were stunners; and they were mine. I would not, however, recommend that anyone writes a book around a more-than-full-time job, juggling family, and trying to find the occasional moment to sit down and take a breath.
Imposter syndrome
THERE are many times in the course of my work that I feel like an impostor. Leading the afternoon retreat for the College of Bishops at their annual residential meeting in Oxford last month was one of those times. After the retreat, I also preached at the eucharist, at which the Archbishop of York presided. I wondered what I could possibly have to say to these anointed men and women of God — especially on one of the most often quoted passages in scripture: Micah 6.8.
In the weeks beforehand, I was given good advice: that bishops, too, need space for reflection and silence, room to breathe. Rather than think that I could impart new wisdom to them, I exhaled in the comfort that maybe they just needed reminders of what they already knew.
The meaning of life
I FELT like an impostor again when I took part in a panel conversation to launch new research by the Explaining Atheism project, which claims that we are now living in an atheist age.
I was honoured by the invitation, sitting alongside academics in atheism, as well as the BBC’s Head of Religion and Ethics for TV, Daisy Scalchi; and the comedian and actor Cariad Lloyd, who hosts the podcast Griefcast. Actually, I felt like Daniel in the lions’ den — which in this instance was the Conway Hall, London, run by the (former South Place) Ethical Society, which now champions humanism.
Although atheists are the people that we at Theos would most like to convince of religion’s value, I rarely get to speak to a room full of them. I was surprised by how much of the conversation was taken up by talk of death, and how we deal with it: how people mourn, and how we live with grief and bereavement.
Despite feeling like a fish out of water, and our differing views about God or not-God, I realised that we all long for meaning, we all need hope, and we all benefit from the rituals that help us to cope with the randomness, chaos, and beauty of life.
Library reminder
THERE are moments when — despite my impostor syndrome — I am reminded that I am exactly where I should be. It is a privilege to have a sense of vocation, especially when it is a niche one. I knew long ago that my calling was to communicate the good news of the Christian faith to a world that no longer understood it; and it is a privilege that, as director of the think tank Theos, I now have this in my job description.
I often forget how long this calling has sat with me: this drive to talk about religion and spirituality in the mainstream — facing outwards, not inwards at the Church; but I was reminded of it recently, when I delivered a Thought for the Day about St Francis of Assisi on Radio 4. A few days later, the librarian at my old school emailed me to tell me that she had heard it.
She had also, that week, been clearing out neglected books, including The Oxford Dictionary of Saints by David Hugh Palmer. Inside the cover, she had seen that, as a teenager, I had taken out the book 22 years ago. I was the only borrower of that book in the library’s history.
It was a reminder to me that I am — and have always been — a religion nerd; and that I am right where I was always meant to be.
Mistaken identity
I HAVE now been delivering Thought for the Day for nearly eight years, but there are still times when I feel like an impostor in the green room of the Today programme. Sometimes, there are other people who remind me that I don’t look as if I belong there.
Take the time that Bill Gates was in. He and his entourage swarming around him assumed that I was the tea lady, and informed me that he would take his coffee in a mug. I found it hilarious and mortifying in equal measure, but couldn’t muster up the words to correct their mistake. Instead, when 7.45 a.m. came, I picked up my script, walked into the studio, and delivered my words — because that was where I was supposed to be.
Chine McDonald is Director of Theos. Her book, Unmaking Mary: Shattering the myth of perfect motherhood, will be published by Hodder & Stoughton in March 2025.