THE relics of St Therese of Lisieux have been processed around the country, made a visit to Wormwood Scrubs and rested in Westminster Cathedral.

The atheists and secularists kicked up a mighty fuss – which is very understandable, for they are enemies of the Church and their aim is to banish Christianity from public life.

What is more difficult to understand is the opposition of some Christians to the procession of Therese’s relics.

Inevitably, such a procession invites accusations of superstition and the whole event gets dismissed as medieval. Personally, I am very glad that these relics are among us. I am attracted to dramatic and colourful outward observances. In the Algarve, they bring down the statue of the Virgin from its hill shrine every Maytime and there are marching bands and drums and fireworks and feasting for three days on end.

Once accused of being superstitious, Chesterton replied: “I love my religion and I particularly love those parts of it which are ignorantly described as superstitious.” I agree, and I think we should have more priest-craft as well. For the priest does have a craft. I am a priest and I try my best to practise it.

But really, why should someone living in our wonderfully progressed and modern 21st Century stand gawping at relics or, worse still, kneeling in their presence? The answer is simple: it is to show devotion to something.

These outward demonstrations of devotion, support, loyalty, commitment are not limited to Christians. Atheists and secularists do it. Are there any atheist Chelsea supporters?

I’m sure there must be a few. Fans of The Blues don’t merely support Chelsea “in theory”: they wear scarves and rosettes and on match day Stamford Bridge is like a raucous church full of heartfelt chanting and singing.

And if the body of Winston Churchill may be paraded on a gun carriage, then the remains of a Christian saint can be processed to Wormwood Scrubs.

The reason why Christians and atheists alike practise rituals which involve signs and tokens superficially resembling totems and fetishes is because we are not disembodied minds. We are bodies, parts and passions and so we relate not just to intellectual matters, to some impossible realm of pure spirit, but we employ visible, physical and material things in all we do. Ritual and drama are not savagery and primitive superstition: they are the embodiment of the poetic imagination.

Suppose there is a residential home for aged and decrepit members of the National Secular Society – the sort of place where Ludovic Kennedy and Polly Toynbee might expect to end their days. And suppose that two residents of this blissful temple to atheism fell in love and decided to get married. They wouldn’t merely sign a formal contract: there would be a wedding ring, a cake and glasses of Champagne for ritual toasting of the happy couple. Quite right.

I have been into the homes of atheists and secularists who have pictures on their walls.

Am I to regard this as a form of superstition?

For they do, in a sense, worship these pictures in much the same way as they adore paintings in the art gallery.

The barrier to a full appreciation of reality is not ritual, relics or symbols. It is crass literal-mindedness. I may say “My love is like a red, red rose”, but I don’t then spray her with insecticide in case she has greenfly.

■ Peter Mullen is Rector of St Michael’s, Cornhill, in the City of London, and Chaplain to the Stock Exchange.