Decrying the decline of “christianity” in Britain has come from various angles over the past year or so. Church attendance is diminishing, its membership ageing. “Unbelief” appears to be growing. Though I would argue that it was always there and only now is it getting better, perhaps more accurate, press. Fifty percent of people living in Britain today describe themselves as being of “no religion”. How many of those are believers (in a real or vague sense) is difficult to ascertain – only that they do not see themselves as a member of a particular church or denomination. Ninety percent of those who are raised not associated with a religious tradition, do not later join one, or identify with one. That last figure, is interesting, but not entirely unexpected. Religious practice is something that you need exposure to to get below the surface of watching a liturgy, reading a few patristic writers, or looking around a darkened medieval church. Christianity in Britain seems to find itself in a situation where it is no longer a force to be reckoned with. Politicians and social and public figures, according to Rowan Williams, see religion as a “problem”, an “eccentricity” practiced by fringe elements and ethnic minorities. This last point should come as no surprise. Consider for a moment what popular media covers when it reports on religious issues: radical fundamentalists, and other “fringe” groups. Sadly, we Indie folk get lumped in with the latter group. We are viewed as a novelty, even though we represent a 200 year old tradition within sacramental Christianity.

Are we getting an accurate picture? Thinking about the possible numbers of Indie OC/IC folk for a moment. I am unaware of any accurate figures detailing the number of OC/IC believers. The last such figure I know of is from the 1920 US census. When the surveys are conducted there is not a space for Indie folk. Many people in our “sub-group” will say that they are “catholic” simply to make things easier, or because there are no other options. By the way – I always pick “other” and then fill in the blank if one is provided. If we had an accurate statistic of our own numbers then we might not be asking – is Christianity declining – because we would be asking a different question: How is Christianity changing, such that we are observing people abandoning large parish buildings in favour of smaller more intimate groups? Why? For starters I think that the Indie movement is larger than we think. When you are only counting church membership in the big-tent denominations I think you’re not getting an accurate picture of the health of the faith.

Is it that Christianity is declining, or is it perhaps more accurate to say that the nature of Christian expression is changing? I have seen quite a few pieces over the past couple of years suggesting that people simply cannot identify “Christianity”. When you consider the statistic I mentioned earlier – that the majority of those not raised in a religious tradition will not then seek to participate in the life of one – it is no surprise that people are ill informed, or wholly ignorant of what “Christianity” is. Thus, if people are no longer seeing the church building as a part of their life, they are no longer learning about the faith and its praxis, we should not be surprised to see figures suggesting that Christianity is in decline in Europe. It is! I’m not being alarmist. This is only one feature, in a much larger picture. I actually think that there are more “believers” out there than the statisticians have found. I think that what we are seeing is that the nature and expression of Christian practice are changing. People are relying on their online interactions more and more. People are avoiding or abandoning the scandal and infighting of the “institutional” churches. What we are seeing is an absence of “brand loyalty”. That is to say that people are not committing themselves to a particular “christian” identity. A Pew study a year or so ago showed that in the US even those who openly identify themselves as Christian are picking and choosing elements of praxis and belief from a variety of religious traditions, and spiritualities. The nature and expression of Christianity is changing.

Where do we Indie folk fit in this picture? Because Indie communities are less likely to be your stereotypical parish, it is safe to say that we are a feature of this change. However, I wonder, are we in a leadership role giving shape to the change, or are we merely following the path of least resistance to gain a few followers here and there? Are we allowing old models of “church” to die out, while thoughtfully examining and testing new ones? I believe we should be – the shape and nature of Indie communities is such that we have the creative advantage that could strengthen existing communities, and bear witness to the life and faithfulness of the OC/IC tradition. We need to be careful not to fall into the trap that so many of us witnessed in the late 80s and early 90s of reform or change, simply for the sake of change and reform. Change is adapting to new circumstances, it has substance and meaning. Change is not successful, it does not build up the community, when it is done on a whim of an individual, or a community.

Below are some of my ideas. They are not novel in themselves, but in a context, in our context I think that they can bring something useful to the table.

•        We live in a mobile society; people want to take it with them. I wonder if the decline in church membership is a product of our mobile society. Generally, we no longer live in the same geographic location for as long as we once did. You no sooner move to a place, settle into the life of a faith community and you move – again. I seem to recall once seeing a statistic that in the US people don’t stay in the same job for more than five  years on average. Jobs being a main cause of people moving from one place to another. It is easy to see how this can be disruptive, it is no wonder that many people have turned to less stationary sources for spiritual growth and communion. Our increased ability to be, and remain interconnected, wherever we are through such things as social networking, the internet, mobile phones, video phones (e.g. SKYPE), allows us to participate in an active, engaged community scattered over a wide geographic region, that may only meet in a given place quarterly, or once a month. Outside of that physical meeting however, the conversation, and the relationships within the community continue wherever individual members might be in real time. This reality – and it is already a nebulous reality in the Indie community, may mean that we develop further adaptations consciously managing issues related to this new way of being in communion, being church. For example, we might find it necessary to continue the oft maligned practice of ordaining more people than is traditionally deemed necessary – if it means that an increasingly mobile membership can easily “take it with them”, sharing with others the OC/IC tradition, introducing them to our expression of sacramental Christianity. This would mean however, that we have a much needed conversation within the movement about ordination, what it means, how it works. It also means that we will need to take serious steps to reign in the abuse of the office, laying out broad principles of quality control, that heretofore have not existed in any real or consistent manner.
•        Who are you? A lack of understanding or knowledge about the basic shape of Christianity is certainly a contributing factor to the notion that the faith is in decline. “They devoted themselves to the teaching of the Apostles. . .” Luke’s idealised image of the post-Ascension community in Jerusalem is not pure myth. Surveys have shown that a congregation that has a clear understanding of who they are and what they are about thrives. This is not to say that Indie communities ought to take on the Fundamentalist perspective of everything is a black and white choice. We are after all sacramental Christians and that means we are those who revel in the grey. We stand in the tension between black and white, and celebrate it. Can you put your finger on a few lines to give a total stranger an idea of what Indie Catholicism is? Indie communities tend to “assume” a knowledge of sacramental christianity, of the historical OC/IC ethos, and “Christian culture”. I think that this is a mistake – we are missing an opportunity here to not only empower and breathe new life into our existing communities, but to reach out to nones. We need to have the conversation about our core identity from one bishop to the next, one community to the next. More importantly however is the very real need to empower individuals within the community to own that identity and put it into action. Only then will we find our communities adapting well to new circumstances, weathering trials, and flourishing.
•         Make resources, and make them accessible. Home grown Indie resources (such as this, this, this, this, and this) designed for individual and communal use are sorely lacking. Just as we “assume” an understanding of Christian ideas and culture, we tend to “borrow” (or continue to use) the resources of other churches without adapting them to a new situation, a new setting – an Indie OC/IC setting. If we are to see stronger communities within the movement, people need to have access to clear useful resources. Prayerbooks are one of the most popular Apps for phones and tablets. Books, blogs, and pamphlets covering a wide variety of topics of theology and praxis from an Indie perspective not only aide existing members in their participation in the community, but they can also be an effective way to reach out to new people. People may not necessarily participate in a specific community, but they are seeking moments of solitude, reflection, engagement, nourishment. I have on more than one occasion heard someone describe their path to conversion from one tradition to another. A common thread through them all is how reading one book, one essay, hearing a talk, or watching a video or documentary inaugurated the process. I have met many others who, while never setting foot in a church, regularly read or view resources from a particular set of writers, artists, creatives within a given tradition. These resources feed their hunger for spirituality and engagement with God. Who is my neighbour – the one I will never know.
•        Its all about “attitude”. A group’s attitude colours everything they do. Indie communities have a number of historic attitude challenges, for example some communities are reactionary, others look to the idealised past, rather than the now, and the future, still others emphasise a particular issue almost to the exclusion of all others. I have discussed these and other elements of OC/IC communal life throughout the blog. A community’s attitude can have the effect of narrowing its ability to adapt to the changing landscape. Attitude can greatly strengthen the community’s ability to adapt, develop, and grow – not just in terms of numbers of members, but more importantly, in terms of its engagement with the active life of a sacramental believer. What is the overarching attitude of your local community? What is the tone, the approach to change, and issues of bishops, clergy, and laity in your community? Is the boundary set too close, or is there plenty of room to expand into the unknown, the unexpected?
•        Be visible. There are no accurate numbers on the size of the Indie community. One reason for this is that it is difficult to create a clear “category” for OC/IC ISM and “other related, but not related” groups. The reasons are relatively unimportant, however, it does mean that we have no idea if the tradition is growing, declining, or static. Nor do we know more nuanced demographic data such as the age range, the continuity of Indie adherence within families etc. This lack of statistics says a great deal about the nature of Indie Catholicism, and how we are perceived by outsiders. It means that if we are to be, or continue to be leaders of adapting to the modern sacramental Christian landscape, we must actively seek to engage, befriend and learn from one another. Moreover, those conversations held in appropriate forums can expose nones and others to the living OC/IC tradition, challenging or dismantling historic stereotypes some have about OC/IC communities.

My list is not about “getting bums on seats”. It is about a much needed conversation about how Indie communities can and in some cases are already adapting to the changing expression of sacramental Christianity we see around us. I think it is better that we use the existing shape of OC/IC communities to be proactive, to lead, rather than to follow (or struggle to keep pace). I believe that any adaptation we undertake ought to focus solely on strengthening existing communities, and empowering Indie believers. Growth in any given community is perhaps a beneficial by-product, but faithfulness is the first objective.

We live in a world of noise. We are surrounded by noise created, projected by others. We make and project our own noise. Years ago, when the Walkman was the iPod of the moment, I had an anthropology professor who talked about wanting to do a study on the effect of the Walkman. He wondered out loud if the increasingly pervasive presence of earphones would have an effect on how people related to one another. Our Christian tradition is all about relating – relating to God, and relating to one another as icons of God. We are surrounded by noise, and we envelop ourselves with noise of our own choosing. What does it say about our individual willingness to participate in communion with one another?

Music, and by this I mean generally other peoples’ music, has become an invasive wall of noise here in the UK. It falls into two categories. The first is public music, the second is pseudo-private music. It is rare to go into a shop, cafe or restaurant and not be bombarded with loud music. This is public music is intended to suggest a mood, or an atmosphere in the establishment. When done well it really does accomplish the task, and can be mildly enjoyable. Often it is not done well, and simply becomes another layer of unpleasant noise. Pseudo-private music is the noise generated by individuals wearing (or not wearing) ear phones. Their music is meant to be private, but often is blasting at a level that allows everyone in the same train carriage to sing along. And it is this phenomenon that attracts my attention. Pseudo-private music is a statement by the user to everyone else. “I’m in my own world,” it says, “stay away, you do not exist here!”

When Moses met God on Sinai he passed through tremor, cloud, and smoke, and spoke to God as “one man speaks to another”. Elijah stood at the entrance of a cave and waited to experience the true presence of God. Wind, crushing rocks, earthquake, fire, none of these elemental phenomena was God. But when he heard the quiet whisper, Elijah knew he was in the real presence of God. Both of these are manifestations of God – that is, they are “theophanies”. In each an individual penetrated the barriers between God and man, in order to relate to God “as one man speaks to another”. The feast of Theophany is different. It is a celebration not just of the manifestation of the Trinity, but also of the elimination of barriers between God and Man. Not just for particular individuals, but for all baptised people.

The noise we make, and surround ourselves with; the noise we create to get attention, or even to deflect attention away from ourselves is a cloak, a barrier. The noise is not me, it is not who I am. What constitutes “me” is hidden underneath the layers of noise. Just as what constitutes you is hidden, underneath your layers of noise. Or more often – behind the ear phones. As practising Christians however, we are challenged by the example of God – to do away with the barriers, to be prepared to relate with openness to “the other” who, like us, is an icon of the Incarnate Logos. If we are to speak of communion with one another, and with God, then we must do so understanding that it means dropping our cloak of safety, allowing others to see the real person while we actively penetrate their barriers and speak to them as one man speaks to another: as friends of God.

If you’re not already a fan of Retronaut – I cannot recommend it to you enough – it is one of the most interesting, quirky sites on the net.

In a recent edition are these pictures of an abandoned church in Buffalo, looking through them I started “feeling” a sense of loss, mourning even, for the many individuals who contributed to the life of that place.

Then I started thinking about the two churches my own family were associated with – one Old Catholic, the other Roman – both now defunct.

Nothing we do is permanent – but it is rather unsettling to view a place with so much individual and collective “spirit” invested in it – even during your own lifetime – as you would a Roman temple, or Egyptian tomb.

Stepping away from the physical building for a moment I find I’m more interested in the loss of community, identity, and with it belonging. My grandmother lived through the change of her local parish church slowly shutting down, its community dissipating, people she’d sat with and visited in church for years no longer there – having had to find another parish – and there feeling like a stranger no doubt. She often commented on how she felt the loss, how sad it was, and how odd it felt.

Indie communities have an unfortunate tendancy to be highly fluid and very impermanent. It is perhaps one of the more difficult aspects of being active in the movement; you no sooner get settled in the life of a community when it shifts or dissipates.

I’m not merely talking about change – change is a natural part of life, and to think that it would not not also be reflected in our faith communities is naive (I guess this is perhaps one of the most effective arguments against “Traditionalists”?).

Some changes are more than that however, they quickly, dramatically alter the nature of a thing. The priest moves and the community dissipates because there is no replacement. A clique within the community “makes its move” and fractures the whole. A dispute with a bishop, or within the wider synod throws everything into chaos. Many of us in the movement have seen this, or lived through this at least once.

What if we were to reflect on the images of hollowed, empty, abandoned church buildings from a generation earlier and use these as a point of reference?

Consider how people, individuals and groups, invested their time, creative talent, hard earned money, and most importantly their spiritual activity and alliance in making this “place” (community) their spiritual home.This community was an integral part of their personal and collective identity. This community was an expression of their faith and devotion. These are only a few of the points we might reflect on.

Now put it in the context of our own Indie setting. For most of us the “building” can be little more than a metaphore – an “icon” if you will – drawing our conscious thinking to bear on our actions. If we kept in our mind’s eye the most haunting shadow of a former community – such as one of the images in this photo essay – asking some of these questions not only of ourselves, but those within whom we have each invested our own time, talent, and relational energy – would we then find that we have more creative ways to overcome the challenges of the historic fluidity and impermanence of our Indie communities?

The spirit of a place, the shadow of the soul of the community that called it home, can I believe be a moving “icon” for Indie folk seeking to invest in their long-term relationship with one another, and within the tradition.

“Don’t you think that Jesus is the solution to the problems in the Middle East – that it is only through him that peace will come to the region?”

This is a question posed to me by a door-to-door evangelist a few years ago. It is a question that irritated me at the time, and has remained with me ever since. It is a question, which to my mind, cuts to the very heart of our theology of the incarnation, our role in it, and how we have somehow, over time, surrendered that role.

We Christians describe the person of Christ as “God and Man”, “God with us”. The Patristic writers describe the process of the incarnation as one that required the cooperation both of God and of Man. At the very core of our understanding of the nature and mechanics of the incarnation is the idea that we humans had a function and a responsibility in the process of redemption, and the outcome of salvation. But somewhere along the way – I’m not sure where – we surrendered our active role in this very important process and became passive observers, fatalists. If God wills it, it will happen.

There is another problem with this all too pervasive model – Christianity focuses on the relationship between God and man, and in the context of our sacramental Christian tradition, the relationships shared between people. So if we have surrendered our role and function – our responsibility – in the ongoing process of realising the fullness of salvation, then this essential relationship is broken. That should be a very uncomfortable realisation for all of us.

A consequence of the broken relationship is that the “conversation” is over and all that is left is to obey, or to become a meek, hopeful supplicant. Since many who have joined or converted to the Independent Catholic life, did so in part because they rebelled against “un-thinking Christianity”. That is to be “told” to accept and obey the teachings and decisions from the hierarchy without question – wondering if there might not be a better way to conceptualise, even realise the significance of the idea within the life of the community.

In this broken model there are no active believers, no “Christians” there are only followers, numbers, bums on seats passively absorbing the dictums of an “elect” few. Here, it is easy to see how our broken relationship with God has seeped into our relationships with our “community” and its constituents. With this model – all catholicity is lost because only the hierarchy is in a position to actually do anything. The fullness of the “body of Christ” is not realised – the talents and effort of each constituent member goes uncultivated, uninvited.

The grace of baptism is the gift of empowerment to be participants in the conversation, to initiate creative theology and praxis, to relate both to God (who through the incarnation underwent the most extraordinary expression of his desire to be in relation with us) and one another. In our OC/IC context we are blessed with small communities, and if you’re lucky a decentralised hierarchy where the bishop is a teacher, a guide, a fellow sojourner, one who points the way and serves as a point of reference and unity rather than a “monarch” or “magestrate”. This ecclesiology allows for the community to develop a voice in conversation, and to become a voice in the greater conversation with God. When everyone in the community can sit down at table, share a meal, and explore an issue – be creatively engaged with our theology and come out at the other end with a renewed sense of praxis – then we are active Christians faithful to our underlying belief in the incarnation.

My response to the poor evangelist standing at my door was to point out that no, we humans are responsible for the suffering in the Middle East because we have surrendered our baptismal role in working together, and with God to bring about a fair and just resolution. I’m afraid they went away surprised that someone would talk with them – and  perhaps regretting it.

I’ve been doing some research in preparation for a possible paper on Vilatte and have been struck by the regular appearance of ethnicity as a theme in the early history of the OC/IC movement. It has me wondering what – if any -  is the legacy of “ethnicity” in the contemporary movement?

When Vilatte was first installed as an Old Catholic mission priest in the Episcopal diocese of Fond du Lac in the late 19th century his principle target was the Belgian and French Canadian inhabitants. They did not use the Episcopal BCP, but the Old Catholic liturgy in French, as well as traditional French & Belgian festivals and customs. The mission was an effort, on the part of the then Episcopal bishop J.H. Brown to address the needs of the 30 different ethnic groups he found in his diocese. The Francophone inhabitants would not accept an Episcopalian priest because they believed that the Anglicans did not have valid Apostolic Succession, and that they were Calvinist heretics. What is more their uniquely English prayerbook, with customs and traditions that were aligned with the Episcopal Church’s English-Scottish heritage, where unfamiliar to the French and Belgians who were by and large “nominally” Roman Catholic.

Brown’s problem was not unique. The Roman Catholics were also struggling with ethnic tensions. When for example Fr. Charles Chiniquy was sent by Bishop Van der Velde of Chicago to Bourbonnaise, Illinois he noted that it was because the largely Francophone population there were suspicious of Irish and German priests. When Frederick Katzer became Archbishop of Milwaukee in 1891 his nomination was opposed by some in the Irish Catholic community who saw his appointment as part of a program of “germanisation” of the archdiocese. The emergence of the PNC in 1917 was largely the result of tensions between the Polish and Slovak community and the largely Irish Roman Catholic hierarchy.

Vilatte’s work, the work of Charles Maguire, and that of the PNC (which also has some historic connections to Vilatte and his work) all have a common theme – a strong emphasis on a particular ethnic group. If we look at the Old Catholics on the continent they are organised along national (ethnic) lines – the Dutch, Germans, Swiss, Slovaks, and Czechs – so in some respects it was only natural the Vilatte and the leading figures of the PNC, for example focussed on particular national groups – enabling them to build communities and provide a continuity of mission, ministry, and identity.

There does however, appear to be a significant flaw in this model when carrying it from Europe to the US – where there are no “national boundaries” or even significant ethnic regions. It creates a situation whereby the Independent Catholic community from its very beginning serves a specific niche constituency. The problem has not gone unrecognised – as early as the 1970s OC/IC clergy were struggling to overcome the problem of being shoved into a particular niche.

While the ethnocentricity of the movement has been slowly dissipating, it seems that the niche seed, having been sown and set root in the late 19th century, now produces a different but equally challenging fruit. A quick survey of OC/IC communities and their self descriptions will easily demonstrate the point. There are indie communities that reject the ordination of women, reject the use of modern language in liturgy, object to the ordination of gays, and actively abhor particular theologies. On the other end of the scale we find indie groups that are focussed solely on a particular theology, that encourage the ordination of women and gays, will only use modern or “politically correct” language in worship. Obviously these are “extremes” however, across the spectrum of the OC/IC community it is not difficult to find this niche mentality in what seems to be the majority of synods and congregations.

So what is the problem with this model – it has been around for over a century?

“Problem” might be too strong a word – but it certainly has established a challenge to indie communities in that an emphasis on particular issues, theologies, and identities limits the mission and vision of a community. This effectively creates limitations and barriers to that community handling change, and the challenges of being an all volunteer community. If our communal focus is on a particular spiritual discipline, or theological school, and one or more members start to explore another discipline or theology this poses an uncomfortable challenge to the identity and praxis of the whole.

By accepting the status of niche communities I cannot help but wonder how this might negatively effect our identity as truly “catholic”. That is to say that a catholic sacramental community is one that strives to benefit from the whole collection of gifts within the whole body of the baptised, practising community of faith. Thus, to over-emphasise a particular “set” at the expense of the rest would seem to weaken an identification with catholicity.

Independent Catholic communities face the very real challenge of continuity and cohesiveness. One might think that maximising on the niche mentality would easily bring stability, and ensure a cohesive identity. While this has some truth to it – the PNC is a good example of this – consider the added challenges of the niche culture in our movement and it might be time to examine some other models.

Ekklesia has an interesting post today outlining Stanley Hauerwas’ Ten Theses about the church as social ethic; inviting reflection & engagement.

Barrow observes that Haurwas’ theses assume that the ekklesia is a wholly voluntary community, and that its total independence from the state liberates Christians to best realise their vocation as believers.This is nothing new to OC/IC believers – we’ve been living the faith in this context for over 100 years. What interests me however, is the challenges being a wholly voluntary community brings with it, and how we might better establish relationships of trust within the context of our tradition – for the purposes of better realising our faith in the Christ.

Most famously, he has declared: “The church does not have a social ethic; the church is a social ethic”. What is interesting to me is that over the past 20 years of active involvement in the OC/IC community – too often it seems that, clergy in particular, treat their role in the indie community as a “hobby” or an “employment scheme” rather than as a praxis, a way of life interconnected with other OC/IC believers. This statement of Hauerwas’ is a sharp reminder that while we have lived with part of the idea of radical reform of our ekklesial life for over a century – we’ve wandered off the path a bit, into the bramble bush.

Barrow suggests some of the “edits” he would potentially make to Haurwas’ theses before offering a useful summary of all ten. I’m interested to play with these ten ideas in the hopes that it might also be a useful in an OC/IC context. Just as Barrow invites readers to engage within his Anglican/Protestant context – I’d be very glad to enage with other Indie folk as I play with them.

I have been doing some research with the aim of writing an essay on Apostolic Succession in an OC/IC context. I’ve been doing some reading in the 19th century background – on the theory that it set the tone for indie discussion and “use” of Apostolic Succession that we still (unconsciously) use today. I came across a “pamphlet” (a book really) by the Roman Catholic Bishop Ryan Vincent of New York published in the 1880s arguing, as you might expect, that the Anglican claim to Apostolic Succession is invalid. Ryan’s book is also interesting because in it he also responds to a pamphlet by an unnamed Old Catholic bishop (I’m wondering if this might not be Abp. Villatte?).

The following passage caught my attention: “In the whole history of the Christian Church, there is nothing more evident than this, that when a bishop or priest, or bishops and priests, revolt against ecclesiastical authority, or contumaciously err against faith, they were silenced, suspended, deprived of their faculties, deposed from their sees. The Church, which had commissioned them and given them authority, jurisdiction, a right to teach, and assigned them a mission in which to exercise their ministry, simply revoked their commission, recalled her grant of power, and annulled all license to act for her, in her name, or by her authority. Thus she acted towards the validly ordained and rightly consecrated heretical Donatist, Eutychian and Arian bishops; and who among our orthodox Anglicans or Episcopalians will recognise such excommunicated, deposed and deprived heretical bishops as successors of the Apostles? She holds the same principles today; schismatical and heretical bishops such as the bishops of the Greek Church, the Jansenist bishops of Holland, and even Reinkens, the itinerant Old Catholic bishop of Germany, even if validly ordained, have no share in the Apostolical commission . . .”[1]

There are a number of things we could play with here but what grabbed my attention is the idea that “The Church” – and in the opinion of Bp. Ryan the “only” authentic church, that is Roman Catholicism – is inerrant. The idea that “The Church” is inerrant is not new, and it is still (at least officially) held by a number of Christian bodies. It creates a nice, relatively neat, “lock” on the ultimate source of authoritative teaching and praxis. So – an errant priest or bishop can be declared heretical, or schismatic, have his faculties revoked, and thus be held to no longer participate in Apostolic Succession. Nice in theory – but as we all know it never really worked on the ground.

If we accept the idea that it is through discernment that the community recognises that the Holy Spirit is working through an individual – and therefore selects that person for a particular ordained service – then is it also possible to acknowledge that through a similar process of discernment that same community can recognise when or if an individual has lost the “confidence” of the Holy Spirit?

What if the priest(s) or bishop(s) challenging the teaching or praxis of “The Church” truly represent Gospel teaching – and that “The Church” is wrong?

Finally how does this idea of the inerrant church play out in OC/IC circles? In the early 90s there was a lot of discussion, even controversy across the Indie community about fleeing the “traditional”, “authoritarian” models of church. In some instances any attempt at establishing some order and consistency resulted in community breakdown, or at the least a great deal of upset. It would seem that we have effectively broken the link between Apostolic Succession and the authority of the ekklesia. How does this then affect our understanding of Apostolic Succession? How does it impact our interaction with the ekklesia; what is its function and value?

If as OC/IC believers we believe that somehow the idea of “the church” is an inerrant body then we’ve got an enormous mess on our hands that needs to be cleaned up. Alternatively, if we don’t believe that the church is inerrant – it does raise some questions about the reason for and value of Apostolic Succssion in our tradition because it means we need to have a very adult conversation about the nature of authority within the Indie movement – something that to date, in my own experience, very rarely happens.

It is not an earth shatteringly new “concept” or observation, but Bp. Alan’s note yesterday about leadership – in particular leadership in the context of Christian praxis is well worth playing with.

At every level, including Primatial shenanigans among people who should know better, there is a profound gap between sincere faith with enthusiasm and the discipline to turn the high energy, love and prayer among Christians into something transformational for the world

Being Anglican Bp. Alan’s reference points are going to be different (though not perhaps as one might immediately think) from the experiences of us Indie folk. But I think he raises an interesting issue about the relationship between being a believer and being a believer who is in community with other believers. There is a huge gap between the experience of an individual – and say how faith and praxis are transformative for an individual, and the experience of a group, as any OC/IC believer can attest to.

For many of us we come into the “community” seeking that sense of being a part of a transformative body but we find that while the ideal is alive and kicking – the life on the ground lacks real leadership, and just a little discipline. Two features of being in the ekklesia that are essential.

Here we are faced with an awkward truth – many in the Indie community want that experience of transformation – but actively reject any notion of structure, and discipline because to them it is a mark of the life and strife of the church they recently fled. How do we get over this “hump”? How do we go about re-building what has been lost only this time, hopefully, in a more healthy and constructive – Gospel centred fashion?

I’m doing the morning news trawl for interesting items relating to theology and found this by American vetran journalist Dan Rather. It is an interesting article about the tug of war within the Roman church between the conservative and liberal wings. I’m not particularly interested in what is happening in other churches but Rather adds a very interesting question in the article:

One way of framing the foundational disagreement between progressive and conservative Catholics, from which many others stem, is as a conversation over what sort of “church” Jesus meant to found. Progressives who want to take the spirit of Vatican II and run with it think the early church was a network of Christian believers whole rules the faithful had to derive from love and individual conscience, in consultation with church leaders. Traditionalists, in line with mainstream Catholic belief, think that Jesus meant to appoint Saint Peter as the first pope of the institutional Roman Catholic Church, complete with a nascent hierarchy and dogma.

This caught my attention for two reasons.

Firstly: the real question for me is did Jesus actually “intend” to found a church – or rather, the “institution” we now call “the church”? Or was it something else entirely? Was he in the “founding” business at all, or was he in the revealatory business – that is, realise God’s blessings, and fulfill them?

Secondly: Rather’s description of the “Progressives” is fun – as it is this idea of “the early church was a network of Christian believers whole rules the faithful had to derive from love and individual conscience, in consultation with church leaders” that is the backbone of the OC/IC identity. In many respects it is for this reason that I’ve always found the ultra-heirarchical strains within the movement to be a bit . . . foreign.

I continue to be puzzled by the large number of “monastic” groups within the Independent Catholic movement. I wonder if clinging on to this inherited model of “community” is stunting our development – holding us fast to out-dated 19th century models of what it means to “be church”? In short do these watered down expressions of monasticism actually add anything to the indie experience?

The cynic in me says that “monastic orders” in the indie community are simply another example of how some in the movement remain convinced that they are somehow second class Christians. Unconsciously, tenaciously holding on to the idea that in order to be “really” catholic they must also have a “monastic order” in the community. The dress up (habit), the additional “titles” (abbot, brother, sister, etc.), the thick texture of added rituals, add a comforting level of hierarchy and structure to a tiny worshipping community, enhancing the “idea” of catholic-ness. I recognise that this cynical assessment is probably too simplistic, but there is, it seems to me, a grain of reality in it. Does the addition of a “monastic order” into the mix of contemporary indie experience actually further our understanding of what it means to be an Old or Independent Catholic believer?

There is a more pragmatic issue to be considered. Indie communities are tiny – most local communities have 20 members or less, and their synod may only have between 5 and 15 congregations – not including an equal number of “free radicals” that is clergy without any real function other than to “be” clergy. The small-ness of our individual communities is, I think one of our greatest strengths, one that we as a whole have not yet taken full advantage of. It is also one of our greatest challenges. It means that whereas other Christian communities that have an average of 75 members, and hundreds of congregations, thus giving them a “critical mass” that gives various elements of community life their own momentum. Our communities are faced with always, and in every activity, needing every shoulder pressed against the stone pushing, and pushing hard to get it to move. In short – we don’t have the time, the resources, and dare I say it the energy to carry the unnecessary burden of an additional layer of organisation in the community – when all of our prayer, energy, talent, and effort ought to be invested in simply being a very active sacramental community – a whole community with no sub-divisions.

What is the purpose of a “monastic order” in the context of an Independent Catholic community? From what I’ve seen the idea is noble – to foster and support those who share an interest in a particular spiritual discipline. In essence it is about shaping, cultivating an identity grounded in that spiritual discipline and its associated theology. This raises two very relevant points.

Firstly, already widespread within the indie community there is a lacuna in many people’s understanding of what it means to “be” an OC/IC believer – we have a harmful identity crisis that few people want to talk about, and fewer still are willing to stand up to the challenge of doing something about. The intermix of a “monastic order” and struggling to “be church” in an authentic indie context only leads to confusion, and I think seriously hinders the cultivation of any real authentic indie voices expressing first and foremost what it means to be a practicing OC/IC believer. How can one cultivate an identity as an indie-monastic without first being fully grounded in what it means to be a fully committed indie believer? Is it right – in our tiny communities – that a clique invests in developing that specialist identity, with a vision and mission separate from, and indeed taking resources from the wider worshipping community?

Secondly we cannot escape the simple fact that none of these “monastic orders” is really an authentic expression of monasticism. Monasticism is about asceticism. And while it is certainly true that everyone ought to undertake some degree of asceticism – to be a monastic to be an “ascetic” is to undertake a particular spiritual discipline that simply cannot be achieved in the context of an Independent Catholic community – not at this time at any rate.

What do I mean using the term “asceticism”? The spirit of asceticism is a single-minded focus on transcendence to the exclusion of everything else. Ascetics don’t have sex – not because they hate the body (they do not) but because sexual activity enmeshes the aspiring ascetic in responsibilities and expectations that are incompatible with a single-minded focus on transcendence. Ascetics fast – frequently – not because they hate food, not because they despise the material enjoyment of food – but because the philosophy behind asceticism teaches that the physical body must be refined, honed, for the purpose of transcendence. Too much food, and particular types of food inhibit that process making the mind and body sluggish, distracted. Because of the single-minded focus of the ascetic he or she lives either in near isolation, or in an intentional community. Thus there is more to being a monk than an attraction to a particular spirituality or theology. There is more to being a monastic than can be accommodated in an OC/IC context – thus the well intentioned “monastic orders” within the wider indie community are but a pale shadow of what monasticism truly represents.

Rather than invent new half-expressions of the monastic life, why not invest fully in an active praxis and spiritual discipline of the local community? Is there any reason why a local congregation could not be grounded in the general vision of a particular saint or teacher in the historic sacramental tradition? I cannot imagine any such reason. Is there a constructive reason why there need to be any “monastic orders” within the indie community? I can find none.

We ought to invest in “being” OC/IC believers first – let whatever expressions of the spirit of asceticism that might come at a later time develop naturally – within a fully committed indie context, rather than as an anaemic copy from another tradition expressing their theology and praxis and not our own. I think we ought to have enough awareness of the needs of our current situation, respect for the monastic spirit, and respect for other existing monastic traditions to walk away from establishing, and perpetuating pseudo-monasticism in the OC/IC community.