The discussion in the previous post about teenage Christianity has caused me to reflect on the experiences I went through at school and later. My boarding school took Christianity and chapel life seriously but there were no institutions like a Christian Union with links to summer camps. There was a small group called the Vivian Redlich society, named after an old boy who had died in Papua at the hands of the Japanese while serving as a missionary in WW2. This group did Bible studies and listened to talks. It did not meet frequently enough to encourage any form of over-excited enthusiasm in the participants. The school, nevertheless, allowed a steady respect for Christianity which was sufficient for me to leave to read theology at university without any expressions of surprise from masters or other boys. You could describe my school in the early 60s as an institution which provided a stable setting for emerging priestly vocations in several of its boys. It was not trying too hard to create that vocation through any form of hard sell Christianity.
My lack of any kind of hot-house Christian experiences as a teenager, was, in fact, something that served me well in later years. I arrived at university with a freedom and a keenness to explore what the faith was all about. I had at that point no strong preference for any expression of the faith which could claim my undivided loyalty. In spite of pressure from Christian Union types in my college to attend their meetings, I had enough understanding of the wider setting of Christianity to realise that Christian Unions were, in one way, just one expression of the faith among many. I wanted to experience many of these other manifestations of the faith. In this I was like a hungry person entering a room with a huge variety of foods available to sample. There were meetings of Quakers to visit, Orthodox liturgies to attend and glorious music to be heard across the city in various college chapels including my own. Those sucked immediately into the Christian Union vortex were being invited into one small room with only a single dish on offer. Though I attended such meetings a few times, I realised that to be in thrall to the notion that the meetings of the Christian Union presented the sole expression of Christian truth was not where I wanted to be. It would have been severely limiting to my early awareness of the huge cultural and theological diversity existing within Christianity. What my other discoveries of the faith were telling me was that the journey to find faith and truth was going to be complex and never totally complete. The beginning of adult life was certainly not the time to close any options down. There would always be this personal adventure of discovery, with perspectives to be explored, which would reveal the enormous variety implied in the word truth. Intellectually and aesthetically, the task of learning to be a Christian, as well as teaching others to share in it, is a life-long undertaking with many twists along the way.
Surviving Church began as a blog for individuals who, at an early age, had been ‘converted’ into a conservative form of Christianity. Subsequently they may have found it limiting for their ability to flourish as full human beings. I wrote short pieces which had a single underlying message. It was to say that the version of Christianity you follow (and this applies to me) can always be broadened and extended beyond what you have so far learnt and experienced. If any Christian leader tries to tie you to a single version of truth, theology or music style, you can be fairly certain that the narrowness they proclaim is their narrowness, not that of Christianity itself. I personally find it deeply disturbing to hear words like ‘the Bible teaches’, ‘infallible’ or the authority of the Word of God. Every time such words or expressions are used, we are witnessing a power manoeuvre. An attempt is being made to suck the hearer into the vortex I mentioned earlier. It is a place where there is no discussion or disagreement tolerated. It is a place that I dread the most – the position of being under the control of someone who is living in a place representing a sole version of truth. If he has deficits in his understanding (and that is is true of all of us), these same limits will be shared by all those under his control. Of course, authoritative statements will sometimes be uttered with the preacher’s learning and insight to back them up. Nevertheless, it will always be dangerous to root one’s entire Christian understanding on the fallible and incomplete grasp of truth held by a single individual. For me, Christianity is found, not in boldly proclaimed statements of doctrine; it is found along the journey of faith which is subtly different for each pilgrim. It does not allow any of us to say we have arrived this side of the grave. The best that a preacher can do is to explore and interpret the written truth of Scripture and share how these words have guided and inspired him/her along the path.
At the very beginning of Mark’s gospel, the text speaks of the good news, the euaggelion. What is the good news? It is not a new idea, a system of beliefs or a political system. It is the announcement of the Kingdom of God drawing close. Even Jesus was pointing his hearers beyond himself to the activity of God in the world. While he himself was the means of God drawing close, the invitation at that moment was not to believe something but to become part of something, a new reality breaking through. Over the centuries the Church has forgotten to see that the task of teaching and preaching is never about the preacher him/herself. It is about what is being revealed through the words used. The picture that comes to mind is the showman who stands up and pulls back a curtain to show some visual wonder. The thing seen is to be the centre of attention, not the puller of the curtain. The existence and creation of so-called celebrity preachers to me is a kind of blasphemous take on the task of preaching. It focusses on the person doing the preaching and not on the message being shared. The Idea of celebrity in a pulpit is also likely to cause the kind of dependency culture that is so unhealthy for the growth to maturity that each Christian should be engaged in. Although I no longer practise the ministry or preach, the question I used to have for each of my flock was not: are you sound? But are you growing in understanding and depth? Are you becoming more and more the people you are capable of being? In looking at the dynamics of a sermon, the focus should be on the relationship between the message and the would-be recipient, not between the preacher and his/her audience.
At the risk of repeating myself I want to reiterate my point about the dangers of focussing on a preacher, when the emphasis should normally be on the task of the healthy growing of Christians. Even dead preachers, like Billy Graham, John Wimber or David Watson can sometimes trap individuals in an endless cycle of dependency so that they, because of their attachment, can never grow beyond a certain point. If the people who introduce us to the ‘glorious liberty of the sons of God’ do their job properly, they leave the scene quickly after pulling back the curtain. What is then remembered is not the preacher but what was shared on a crucial life-changing occasion. I am also fortunate that in spite of the limitations of my school Christian education, I was never trapped by a system of belief and thinking which wanted me to accept or reject a system of thinking and belief in one great indigestible lump. Rather, I was allowed to take on examining the claims of the Christian faith over a lifetime. The faith has many facets, and it needs copious amounts of time to examine them. It cannot be done in one brief emotional moment by a vulnerable, possibly manipulated, teenager trying to identify his or her adult Christian identity.
Today’s blog is somewhat personal, but I sense that at least some of my readers are also ready to revisit their experiences, good and bad in their Christian pasts. I regard myself as fortunate to have had many experiences of exploring the Christian faith through travel and one-time links to universities in Switzerland and Greece. My good fortune was not just the things I learnt and places I visited but the in the fact that, even at an early age, my education had not closed me down to being able to learn and experience new things within the sheer variety of Christian culture and witness. The influence of places like Iwerne camps and the many centres of ‘sound’ conservative Christian teaching may represent where many Christians wish to be, but I sense that some may come to regret that they believed it possible to limit their experience of God to one cultural manifestation. God seems to be found in so many places and we should rejoice in that.
Don’t forget “The Bible clearly says”!
And I have to disagree that you no longer have a ministry!
But I was brought up in a very shall we say, definite style of belief. So the idea that perhaps most people were taught a much more indefinite set of beliefs was new to me.
The simplistic nature of bibliolatrous conservative evangelicalism makes it powerfully effective for many teenagers .. it’s how I came to faith, like many others. But for most, it’s a stage-of-life thing isn’t it? And my faith broadened as I matured emotionally.
I’m not sure, as a self-professed atheist that I’d have responded to a more liberal theology at that stage of my life .. though the reverse is true now.
John, that’s a good point. Personally, I’m not sure. Maybe many people are more grown up than I was!
Thank you Stephen for this open, honest retelling of your experience. What came to mind was the title of the Book of sermons and prayers of Peter Marshall, one time Chaplain to the US Senate in the 30s and 40s, it was “Mr Jones, meet the Master”. It’s title surely tells the role of not just the Cleric but also of the Christian in general, we are to be people like John the Baptist, introducers to the “Main Man”.
The Holy Spirit is the advocate who persuades, we are the witnesses whose role is to answer the questions and “tell it like it is”. The danger lies when the witnesses step out of the witness box and try to take over the role of the advocate and persuader. So tempting but so wrong.
Wasn’t Peter Marshall later accused of plagiarising his sermons? I seem to remember his widow Catherine got into trouble for publishing a book of them. There are references to the story online, but behind paywalls.
If true, it does highlight the problem with focussing on the preacher rather than the message.
If you noticed I focussed on the title not the man. My subsequent remarks might have highlighted the point I wanted to make..
I didn’t mean to accuse you of idolising Marshall. I was thinking more of Catherine, who wrote a biography of her husband presenting him as a spiritual hero.
Re early Christian formation, according to Wikipedia, David Watson noted: “Undoubtedly the most formative influence on my faith during the five years at Cambridge was my involvement with the boys’ houseparties, or ‘Bash camps.’
After reading this blog post, I looked up David Watson. I met him a number of times in the last four years or so of his life. He died in 1984 just short of his 51st birthday, so would have been 88 had he been still living.
I remember him as a small-c charismatic itinerant preacher and very personable. Years later, I wondered how he managed to spend so much time on the road while being the Rector of St Michael le Belfrey.
I attended a bogstandard comprehensive school and went on to a Poly, so this is my only connection to Iwerne.
David Watson’s autobiography, ‘You Are My God,’ gives a fairly detailed account of the stresses imposed on himself and others – especially his wife Anne and their children – by his many absences.
HIs travelling ministry was made possible at all because of his encouragement of many lay ministries, and because he had a succession of very able curates. Latterly one of them, Graham Cray, became vicar.
I never met Watson but I was curate at the Belfrey from 1989-92, so I heard a lot about him from people who knew him very well. Anne was around, too, and I met here several times. I would really like to see a good analysis of Watson and his work at St. Mike’s by someone able to give it an informed evaluation.
‘Hot house Christian experiences’ were of course a distinct allure to many adolescents and young adults.
Warned off these by a strict con-evo church upbringing, I was nevertheless drawn into making my own mind up about them. Was there any validity in the experiences others related? Did the Holy Spirit move in power here today, rather than just in New Testament times? Was I shut off from God as suggested to me by a friend at university? Was I closed down emotionally? Was this really a bad thing?
Music was always the snare for me. I started life classically and this is really the only thing I enjoyed about school. School Christianity was Anglo catholic with its traditional harmonies and Cantatas. All good as far as I was concerned. But faith there was impersonal and inconsequential. Hardly anyone changed anything about their lives as a result. And I wanted change.
Con-evo Christianity was presented as a whole-life-system, not the bolt-on-for-Sundays-occasionally stuff of school life. I gave con-evo everything I had but ultimately found the belief system deeply flawed.
Fast forward decades and tentative toes into water of Charismatic experiences. Over the years I began to evolve into a sort of New Wine Christian. I certainly embraced the music. Open to potential experiences of God in the present, in reality very little happens. Again it’s presented as a whole-life type of system with the goal of personal peace and happiness with healing added. I lived it full on. Again there were many flaws in the way things were supposed to work, as compared with how they actually did work, or rather didn’t. In the end, in the place I was then, I found the church I was attending incompatible with my mental health.
Perhaps I’ve come full circle into a less intensive, more realistic expression of faith with only occasional actual engagement in church community. For certain, I’m still on a journey.
Hmm. We’re all different. Surely we all should be able to enjoy a church community, the company, the friendships. And we can enjoy music to our own taste without it’s having to be only through church. I’d find it difficult to be in a church if the music was really bad! I think perhaps we tend to take different things from different parts of our lives. Do we need to commit every moment to our church? But we need to commit everything to God, which is not the same. Faith should suffuse every moment of our lives. But church doesn’t have to.
Yes, we’re all different.
We’ve just had a global experiment where meeting in a physical building was largely prohibited due to Covid-19. I wonder how many haven’t returned. Of course most have and enjoy good friendships.
I found in a large church a paradoxical paucity of actual friends. To be fair, a few pillars of the church had died or left.
Regarding music, if you’ve a good ear for example, it can be very distressing if the standard drops significantly.
I was a committed member of the large music team for many years, and recall just completing the rehearsals for evening worship with a prayer, exiting the main building to wash my hands, and to be greeted on one of the exits and asked if I was new? I found this funny and appreciated the enthusiasm of the rookie welcome team member, but did reflect that really, in a large place, you disappear.
😀! Bless!