Niall Ferguson on the decline of Christianity in Britain.

He has no answers, being, as he says, a "materialist" himself, but it concerns him nonetheless. He begins by alluding to a conversation between one of the London bombers and a neighbor, related by her, in which the bomber asked her what religion she was, and she said she didn’t believe anything:

Miss Scott’s recollected conversation with Said-Ibrahim is fascinating because it illuminates the gulf that now exists in this country between a minority of fanatics and a majority of atheists. "He said," she recalled last week, "people were afraid of religion and people should not be afraid." I am not sure that British people are necessarily afraid of religion, but they are certainly not much interested in it these days. Indeed, the decline of Christianity – not just in Britain but right across Europe – stands out as one of the most remarkable phenomena of our times.

{snip}

Chesterton feared that, if Christianity declined, "superstition" would "drown all your old rationalism and scepticism". When educated friends tell me that they have invited a shaman to investigate their new house for bad ju-ju, I see what Chesterton meant. Yet it is not the spread of such mumbo-jumbo that concerns me half so much as the moral vacuum our dechristianisation has created. I do not deny that sermons are sometimes dull and that British congregations often sing out of tune. But, if nothing else, a weekly dose of Christian doctrine will help to provide an ethical framework for your life. And I certainly do not know where else you are going to get one.

Over the past few weeks we have all read a great deal about the threat posed to our "way of life" by Muslim extremists like Muktar Said-Ibrahim. But how far has our own loss of religious faith turned this country into a soft target – not so much for the superstition Chesterton feared, but for the fanaticism of others?

Also in the Telegraph, this very odd piece.