Postmodern believers want to use all of their senses, stressed Hall.
They want smells and bells. They want to see icons and statues, as well
as drama and digital clips from movies. They look for God in nature, as
well as scripture.
Geoff Thomas writes, "I am a Celt, born and bred in Wales. We Welsh,
along
with the Scottish, Irish, the inhabitants of the Isle of Man, the Cornish
and Bretons make up the living remnants of the Celtic civilization which
dates back 2,000 years. The Christians amongst us look in surpise at what
is claimed to be 'Celtic spirituality' which has developed a cult status
amongst such groupings as the Southern Baptists in the USA. For example,
the following article of Terry Mattingly describes one such church":
The first thing people do after entering the quiet sanctuary is pause
at a
table to light prayer candles for friends and loved ones, the tiny flames
adding to the glow of nearby candle trees.The ministers wear oat-colored,
hooded robes tied at the waist with ropes and guide their flock through
ancient prayers, a litany of confession and silent meditations marked
by a
series of bells. Hymns are accompanied by an ensemble that includes fiddle,
acoustic guitar, wind chimes, pennywhistles, a Bodhran, and even
bagpipes.
This coming Sunday is the day before the feast of St. Patrick.Thus,
worshippers at Rivermont Avenue Baptist Church in Lynchburg, Va., will
sing
the great prayer of Ireland's missionary bishop:"Christ with me,
Christ
before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above
me. ... I arise today through a mighty strength, the invocation of the
Trinity, through a belief in the Threeness, through a confession of the
Oneness of the Creator of creation."
This is not your typical Southern Baptist service. Nevertheless, this
Celtic service is held every Sunday at this historic church. The goal
is to
use ancient rituals to touch postmodern souls."Postmodern people
- like
Baptists in general - like to take some of the old and mix it up with
some
of the new and then put it all together. We're comfortable with the unusual
juxtapositions that may occur when you do that," said Karen Swallow
Prior,
who selects and reads many of the rite's Celtic prayers. She is an English
professor at nearby Liberty University."We don't think that what
we're
doing is getting back to the ancient ways. We think that we're using
elements of the past in ways that make sense to people who are alive today.
The goal is to create something new."
In the lingo of Southern Baptist life, Rivermont is known as a "moderate,"
or even progressive, congregation. In addition to the Celtic service,
it
also offers the plugged-in, energetic contemporary worship common in
"seeker-friendly" congregations across America. The bottom line:
Different
kinds of people worship in different ways.The contemporary service is
larger and the pews are
filled with Baby Boomers who have become the established, middle-aged
core
of the congregation. For them, pop praise choruses and a chatty atmosphere
have become normal. What was once "modern" is now strangely
"traditional."Meanwhile, said Prior, the Celtic service is attracting
a
unique blend of young adults, who are drawn by its beauty and mysticism,
and the elderly, who appreciate peace and quiet.
Church leaders refer to this as a gathering of the "pre-moderns
and the
postmoderns." What was once "traditional" is now strangely
"innovative.""How will the postmodern church worship?"
asked Chad Hall of
the Baptist State Convention of North Carolina, writing at
www.coolchurches.com. "One thing we know about postmoderns is that
they are
extremely experiential.That is, they learn, grow, develop and commit based
on their own experience with truth not according to someone else's
encounter or someone else's retelling of an encounter."
Postmodern believers want to use all of their senses, stressed Hall.
They
want smells and bells. They want to see icons and statues, as well as
drama
and digital clips from movies. They look for God in nature, as well as
scripture. They want to encounter God, not mere words about God.But this
doesn't mean they want to change their beliefs.
The faithful at Rivermont Avenue remain steadfastly Baptist, said music
minister Wayne Bulson. While they use elements of ancient liturgy, they
believe that the Irish Bannock bread is still bread and the grape juice
is
still grape juice. They are embracing symbols, not sacraments."People
want
a sense of the ancient, but they still want something that they feel is
appropriate to their lives, today," said Bulson. "I mean, we're
still
Baptists. We're not Catholic or Orthodox or anything else. . . We're not
pushing for Baptist monasteries. What we're trying to do is find out what
will be meaningful to our people, what will help them experience God
in their lives."We're not proud. We're willing to borrow things from
all
kinds of traditions, as long as they work for us."
By TERRY MATTINGLY Scripps Howard News Service March 12, 2003.
Terry Mattingly (www.tmatt.net) teaches at Palm Beach Atlantic University
and is senior fellow for journalism at the Council)
-------------------
In the recent Journal of Welsh Religious History New Series, Vol. 2:2002
published by the Centre for the Advanced Study of Religion in Wales,
Department of Theology and Religious Studies, University of Wales, Bangor,
LL57 2DG the following important review was published and is reprinted
here
by permission of both the author and the publishers:
Celtic Dilemmas: The Quest for Celtic Christianity by Donald E. Meek
A. M. Allchin
This is an important and valuable book for all those who are concerned
with
the study and understanding of the Christianity of the Celtic peoples
during the last fifteen or sixteen centuries, and also for those who are
concerned with the constantly growing interest in this subject which has
characterised the last twenty or thirty years. As the writer of the book
himself says, his 'work was stimulated by the wave of intense popular
enthusiasm for matters "Celtic" which began to emerge in the
British Isles
in the late 1970s' (p.1).
The book is written by a man who is in many ways exceptionally well
equipped to speak on this subject. He is a distinguished professor of
Celtic studies, and at the same time someone who grew up in a Gaelic
speaking family on the island of Tiree, where his father was a crofter
and
a Baptist minister. It is evident at once that the writer feels intensely
dissatisfied with the common interpretation of 'Celtic Christianity' given
in much of the popular writing which has been published on this subject
in
the last twenty years. As a scholar he finds it slipshod and superficial,
as a believer he finds it sentimental and subjectivist, and as a lover
of
his country he finds it insulting and neo-colonialist. We discover in
these
pages a man who sometimes feels angry at what seems to him the
falsification of things that are dear to him, at times pained by the way
in
which people with no right to these treasures, seem to have wanted to
appropriate and exploit them for their own ends.
As will, I hope, become clear in the course of this article, the last
thing
I wish to do is to present this book in a primarily polemical context.
It
is evidently intended to initiate a debate, but it is a debate which I
believe could easily have become a friendly and constructive discussion,
and that is how I think it needs to be read. But it is important to
recognise at the outset that at least from time to time the book has a
strongly polemical edge to it. I quote an account of a compilation of
'Celtic' prayers and devotions, published in 1994.
"The book bears as close a relationship to genuine Celtic tradition
(as
defined in terms of language and culture) as sand does to moon-dust, the
use of the word 'Celtic' here seems to denote no more than a haggis of
citations which defy definition by any other designation. Yet, in some
quarters it is nevertheless acceptable - and evidently profitable - to
slap
the term Celtic on hybrid complications of this kind, and to present them
to the unknowing public. In this way the term 'Celtic' is further emptied
of meaning, and rather than being strengthened, genuine Celtic culture
is
being undermined by covering it with layers of highly dubious
interpretation. This is a particularly obvious example of the manner in
which the more insensitive wing of the Celtic Christianity movement,
operating within a majority mass culture and under the cloak of religious
acceptability, adopts certain characteristics of a minority culture and
exploits them shamelessly for its own commercial ends." (p.11)
There is no doubt that the writer here is angry, though we observe that
he
has not lost his sense of humour! It seems to me that his anger has perhaps
carried him on to say more than he really meant to. I very much doubt
whether the compilers of the volume in question, or their publishers,
made
a great deal of money out of the project. I doubt still more whether the
two compilers of the book had commercial considerations in their minds
at
all when they first set to work on it. But if we want to understand more
fully the origin of Donald Meek's own point of view, then we can turn
to a
wonderful and very personal chapter of this book which he has given us.
The chapter concerned is the last; chapter 14. In it Donald Meek tells
us
of a day he spent as a school-boy in September 1965, on a day trip from
Oban to Iona via Staffa on 'The King George V, David MacBrayne's splendid
but increasingly elderly pleasure steamer' (p.245). He is there at the
invitation of the Captain, himself a friend of Donald Meek's father, and
a
fellow inhabitant of Tiree. As he describes his reactions during the day,
we begin to see how much it means to him to have grown up in a Hebridean
island where the Gaelic language was part of the bread and butter of daily
life and where the experiences of working on a small island farm introduced
him to the hardness and constraints of island life as well as to its beauty
and its deep sense of community. Moreover, he had known from childhood
the
assurance and support of a firm and articulate evangelical faith, and
though in the course of time that faith may have developed in some ways,
it
has never been rejected or fundamentally undermined. He tells us in this
chapter how after school he went on to University, to specialise in Celtic
studies, first in Glasgow and then in Cambridge; it was in Cambridge that
he had the opportunity of working with scholars of the calibre of Peter
Hunter Blair and Kathleen Hughes.
All this he tells us, in telling us about that memorable day with its
first
visit to Iona. Certainly to be on that island could only be exciting and
even moving for this highly intelligent local boy. But the memory which
has
really stuck in his mind is not the memory of the abbey ruins but the
memory of the ship itself. 'She was so splendid on that particular day,
so
majestic in her black and red livery, with her rust-bespattered lower
plates and her two lofty funnels blowing oily smoke and damp steam. She
was
to me then, and ever will remain, the greatest ship in the world' (p.249)
For this impressionable teenager it was the ship itself which remained
the
'dream image' from that memorable day. 'Columba gradually lost much of
his
romantic spell, though never his attractive significance as a powerful
figure of history associated with an island that, on a clear day, seemed
almost within easy sailing distance of Tiree. I myself was ultimately
heading away from these islands, away from the Columba of boyhood dreams,
and into a world where the mind and the intellect were prepared for
rational enquiry' (p.249).
It is altogether natural that a boy whose childhood had been spent in
the
Hebridean islands should have this sense of intense identification with
the
ship which was taking him out into his first contact with the wide world
outside. But how equally natural that for the great majority of us, whose
experience of childhood has been one of urban and suburban sameness, our
first encounter with the incomparable grandeur of the highlands, and with
the unlooked for presence in such a remote place of monastic buildings
like
those of the Abbey of Iona, will leave very different memories and
impressions!
I must not give the impression that the whole book is made up of this
kind
of account of personal reactions and impressions. For the most part it
is a
cogently argued refutation of the understanding of 'Celtic Christianity'
which the writer has been studying with growing fascination and dismay,
in
a large number of mostly popular books, over the last twenty or more years.
But it helps us to understand his particular unease with what seems to
him
their English and Anglican tone of complacency, smoothness, compromise
and
at times sentimentality. Being myself responsible for at least one very
small corner of that large variegated tapestry, I think I know what he
is
reacting against!
Rather than attempt to give a systematic account of the book as a whole
which is filled with erudition and insight, I should like to give three
examples of particular topics which seem to me unusually interesting and
worthy of attention.
1] First, there is his discussion of the influence of Rudolf Steiner,
along
with Matthew Arnold and Ernest Renan, in the development of the whole
contemporary picture of Celticity in general and its spirituality in
particular. It is very typical of Donald Meek's careful observation of
things, that he has noticed the way in which the Steiner-influenced
publishing house in Edinburgh, 'Floris Books', has had a large part in
the
republication and distribution of the 'Carmina Gadelica', a text which
he
rightly sees as playing a fundamental role in the development of the
contemporary understanding of Celtic Christianity. As we might expect,
Donald Meek singles out that aspect of Steiner's fascination with the
Celtic past of our two Atlantic islands, which is most deeply unacceptable
to the rational, critical historical mind. That is to say he fastens on
its
links with the lost civilisation and continent of Atlantis.
'What happened in the vicinity of the Hebrides, in Ireland and Scotland,
in
ancient Erin, on the neighbouring islands between Ireland and Scotland,
as
well as in northern Scotland itself? It is there we must seek for the
kernel of those peoples of Celtic origin, who had most of all preserved
the
ancient Atlantean clairvoyance in its fullest purity. The others who had
wandered more to the east, having developed further, no longer kept their
earlier connection with the ancient gods. In contrast the Celtic peoples
preserved the capacity to experience the old clairvoyance, and therefore
they were fully immersed in the element of individuality.' (p.68)
The psychic gifts which often seem to characterise people from the
Hebridean islands, are here interpreted in terms of the last gifts
inherited from the lost civilisation of Atlantis. These speculations of
Steiner throw light on his interest in other places, such as Tintagel
and
Glastonbury, and help to account for some of the wilder and more esoteric
developments of legend around these places in the last century or so.
Donald Meek goes on to point out that George MacLeod was attracted to
some
of Steiner's ideas about the spiritual dimension of humanity and the
spiritual potential of the natural world. He points too to MacLeod's
admiration for the work of the Steiner communities with handicapped people,
an admiration which has been shared by some of those who have been
influenced by the teaching of Jean Vanier in relation to mental and
physical handicap. Is it perhaps possible that in the development of
Steiner's vast and all-inclusive system, there were at least some genuine
and indeed precious insights into some of the less obvious elements in
the
development of the human person? Insights which may yet prove worthy of
inclusion in a Christian understanding of the nature of the human person?
That at least is a question which deserves attention and where I and the
author might well come to different conclusions.
2] The second point which I would like to look at comes from the second
part of the book where the author is examining the current ideas about
the
saints in 'Celtic Christianity' in comparison with a more exact view of
the
historical evidence for the period of the first millennium. His chapter
7,
'Between Faith and Fiction: the Profiles of the Celtic Saints'. Here as
in
other places the author argues strongly against what he sees as the
tendency to soften and sentimentalise the hard rugged edges of the Celtic
vision of holiness and Christian life. 'The lives of the Celtic saints
reveal a very robust spirituality, demonstrating forcefully that they
were
not soft-centred people, always making friends with paganism, or acting
gently when there was need to be strong. They were tuned to another
wavelength altogether' (p.175).
Donald Meek goes on to stress that the primary characteristics of the
Celtic saints are to be found in their devotion to Christ; in that light
he
seeks to understand their qualities as described in the traditional lives.
First among them he sees their power, shown above all in their power over
nature. In their use of that power they could sometimes be not only fierce,
but arbitrary and indeed vengeful. He stresses the elements of conflict
which we find in the lives of the saints, conflict with themselves,
conflict with nature, conflict with the powers of evil. I wondered whether
in this section the author had laid sufficient emphasis on the way which
the Celtic saints are depicted as men and women of prayer, people who
restore communion between heaven and earth, God and humanity, and therefore
who restore communion within the whole family of creation. Was it not
perhaps in this life of prayer, rather than in their feats of asceticism,
that the saints attracted their contemporaries to gather around them,
and
to find their own way towards God? Was it not also perhaps for their
friends and disciples, that the moment of death was not seen to destroy
the
bonds of prayer and affection which had grown up in their life together,
and which hence opened the way for the saint's name to be remembered and
cherished in that particular place, a memory which at least in some way
still exists today in so many small and remote places?
3] The third point which I should like to mention is one which directs
our
attention towards a later chapter of Donald Meek's book, in which he speaks
of the way in which the spiritual life developed in the Evangelical and
Protestant centuries of the life of the Scottish Highlands and Islands.
Here he treats in a preliminary way questions to which I hope he will
return later. There are whole areas here where the great majority of us
can
only wait in hope for the presentation of new material both in prose and
poetry, translated from the Gaelic language. Some elements of this largely
eighteenth and nineteenth century history, seem to be particularly linked
with Scotland. There are other elements where possible comparisons with
the
Evangelical movements of Wales immediately begin to suggest themselves.
One
feature in the story which particularly attracted my own attention, and
which I had found referred to briefly in other books, was 'the motley
band
of local lay leaders, known as "the Men"... known for their
depth of
insight, unusual utterances and otherworldliness' (p.221). Donald Meek
recognises that they have been thought by some to have a resemblance to
the
qualities attributed to the earlier Celtic saints, though he himself
believes that resemblance to be largely accidental. Here again there is
a
matter where one would long to know more. This twelfth chapter, 'Reforming
the Wild West: Protestant Perspectives on the Celtic Past' promises much
for the future.
I said at the beginning of this review that I believed that this book
would
make a valuable contribution to the ongoing discussion of the large and
complex issues which it raises. Donald Meek himself, in dedicating his
book
to the memory of his two teachers at Cambridge describes them as people
'who brought the past to life, and who would have enjoyed this debate'
and
in doing so points us in the same direction. Among the questions it raises
are, how do we in fact bring the past to life? What is the role of the
academic specialist here and what of the popular exponent of historical
themes? Why is it that religious traditions seem to need from time to
time
to renew themselves out of the stories from which they originate? Why
is it
that the changing conditions of today impel us to look back at the past
with new eyes, to ask fresh questions of our inherited tradition? Questions
such as these are also to be found in a more recent publication which
in a
different way covers much of this ground, the collection of studies 'Celts
and Christians: New Approaches to the Religious Traditions of Britain
and
Ireland,' edited by Mark Atherton of Regent's Park College in Oxford,
published by the University of Wales Press in 2002. Here, in an
interdisciplinary collection of essays, containing contributions from
historians and philologists, theologians and students of literature, many
of the questions raised in this book are examined again from a variety
of
view points and with a variety of conclusions. A reading of it might make
an interesting sequel to the reading of Donald Meek's remarkable and
thought-provoking work. We seem to be embarked on a process here which
may
lead us further than we had expected.
The Quest for Celtic Christianity by Donald E. Meek was published in
2000
by Handsell Press, Edinburgh. ISBN 1-8718-2851-1, pp.viii + 273,
illustrated, £9.95.