What is “culture”? The dictionary definition describes it as “customs, institutions, and achievements of a particular nation, people or group”. I have always tended to understand “culture” more along national or ethnic lines more than anything else. I don’t think I have ever consciously considered the idea of religious culture – even though, as any regular reader of this blog will no doubt observe – I do go on about it quite a bit!

I have encountered some media recently that has made be sit and be more conscious about this idea of religious culture. What strikes me about the reports I’ve seen is how the lines are notably blurred between “national”, “ethnic” culture and “religious” culture. It so happens that my religious and ethnic “cultures” overlap quite nicely. This of course is both an accident of history, and personal choice. But what about someone who has chosen a religious culture that is essentially alien to his or her ethnic culture? How are they affected? How do they adapt?

This is a very important question when you consider people who have converted to, or who are participating in, Independent Catholic communities. It is easy to see how people and communities do or do not adapt to this apparent disjunct of cultures.

Al Jazeera has produced a three part series exploring the impact of immigration on French Muslims. It recounts the journey from North Africa, first as economic migrants, then as settled families, and now as “fully” French. The question asked in the piece: “What challenges have generations of Muslim immigrants in France been facing to retain their cultural identity?” What strikes me here is that the “Muslim culture” from the various former French colonies would presumably differ from region to region – so is it possible to describe “Muslim culture” in this sense without first qualifying it as Algerian Muslim, Lebanese Muslim, Egyptian Muslim etc.?

Here in Britain we are starting to see the description “British Muslim”, I’ve not done a search yet but wonder is there a parallel description in France? Does this mean that there is a uniquely British Muslim culture emerging from the mix of Pakistani, Indian, Bangladeshi, Egyptian, Malaysian Muslim cultures? What does that look like? What is the effect of converts – for there are converts either purely through personal conviction, or marriage – on such a development?

The Al Jazeera piece also mentions – almost in passing – those from immigrant families who have “quietly renounced Islam”. Presumably they have done this to better assimilate into the national culture of France and Western Europe? Does this imply that their link to their families traditional culture and religion was an impediment, an embarrassment? Or can it be said that this is a natural progression of assimilation?

For this last point at least, I can look at a simple, but tell tale example in my own family. Slovak custom is that you do not put up the Christmas tree before Christmas Eve. An American custom, particularly in the South, is that you put up the tree the day after Thanksgiving. Some of my extended family, now living in the American South, no longer wait until Christmas Eve (which they certainly did just over 20 years ago), but now put their tree up the day after Thanksgiving. The question is why? Is it purely assimilation? Partially yes – I once asked. It turns out they no longer remember what the “old” custom was, or what it meant. They therefore, simply do what everyone else does. Yet the “old” custom is not so old so as to be “forgotten” – my grandparents and great grandparents did it and they only died within the last decade, but it does seem that this custom has not been passed on to my younger relatives, so they have no knowledge of it. This simple custom is dead in that branch of the family in less than a generation.

It seems to me that as the original immigrants die, and families spread out in the new land. The communal aspect of these customs looses its meaning, because the community that practiced it no longer exists as it once did. This means that abandoning the old ways, is grounded in the process of naturalising in a new setting. If you are the only Slovak family on the block it will stand out that you don’t have your tree up yet. If you are the only Muslim in the village, it can be pretty damn lonely!

What the Al Jazeera piece does not specify, is of those who it says have quietly renounced Islam, how many have converted, at least nominally, to Roman Catholicism? How many have abandoned religion entirely – as cultural baggage they are attempting to leave behind?

A series of Israeli government ads (albeit rather crassly) addresses the challenges of living outside the context of a particular culture in this case both national-ethnic and religious. The ad that grabbed my attention shows an American Jewish family skyping grandparents in Israel. The grandparents are seated with a lit menorah prominently seen in the background. The grandmother asks the little girl, what is the holiday being celebrated. She grins and blurts out “Christmas!” To the obvious discomfort of all four adults.

Jeffrey Goldberg of the Atlantic writes:“These government-sponsored ads suggest that it is impossible for Jews to remain Jewish in America. How else are we supposed to understand the “Christmas” ad? Obviously, assimilation and intermarriage are issues in America in ways they aren’t in Israel. Israel has other problems of course, such as the fact that many of its rabbis act like Iranian mullahs. . . .The idea, communicated in these ads [is] that America is no place for a proper Jew, and that a Jew who is concerned about the Jewish future should live in Israel. . . .”

Here in the UK there is a small (I think it is safe to say microscopic) but vocal minority of Muslims seeking to turn the UK into a new Khalifate. Is this because as a minority religion in an historically Christian kingdom these voices feel intensely the challenge of living outside one’s historic cultural context? Do these groups, like the Israeli government believe that it is difficult, if not impossible to maintain their religious identity and practice outside the context of a Muslim theocracy?

These are two examples (Judaism and Islam) that are relatively easy to talk about the challenges. What about a Christian minority community present in the land of another Christian majority? Here of course we are bringing these ideas close to home – because lets face it, as many Indie folk that are out there, we are still, and I suspect always will be a minority (I should point out that this does not bother me at all, it is simply a fact). Here the challenges, and changes are not as easy to detect. So what effect do they have? Can we talk about the negative effects? Are we even aware of them?

We can also talk about how within the majority community – and here I can use British Anglicans as an example, or perhaps more widely British Christians – there are challenges to and pressures on the received understanding of religious cultural identity. If we look at the responses to controversies caused by an increasing pressure on the wider society for Christianity to accept lesbian and gay marriage, and ordinations. The response from the right (i.e. the socially and institutionally conservative) is that such a shift in religious praxis would undermine cultural and social cohesion. This is clearly a challenge not to an immigrant population, but to the native population that is consciously or unconsciously worried to protect its cultural identity – in this case its “Christian” cultural identity.

What we have not talked about here is how these communities define and understand their religious culture. Why for example do Israeli authorities responsible for the “Christmas ad” believe that one can only be a proper Jew living in Israel? What is it about the veil that offends the sensibilities of being French, resulting in its public ban earlier this year? What is so challenging about living in a western liberal democracy that is so challenging to Muslim belief and practice, that leads some to call for a Khalifate take over in the UK? Similarly what terrifies nominally Christian conservatives in the US so, that a number of states have officially banned Sharia law when there has never been a campaign to institute it in the first place? These examples are not about “fear” (though for sure they are a little bit) rather they are expressions of how various groups majorities and minorities understand the make up of, and challenges to their religious culture.

So, can we talk about an Indie religious culture, and if so what is it? I think that as we move further away from the consolidation of “independent catholicism” in the late 19^th century, it is becoming increasingly difficult to talk about one Indie religious culture. Rather I think we need to see the movement (and here again I now wonder if this too ought to be plural: movements) as streams of different OC/IC and yes, ISM cultures. To do otherwise would simply do one’s head in they have in the past forty years alone exploded into a convoluted interwoven tangle.

Are we as a minority group within the Christian tradition so overwhelmed by the praxis of those around us that he can do little more than assimilate? This is a question that has bothered me for some time. Because I’ve seen the assimilation happen. When I say assimilate I should clarify, I mean to have the look and feel of the surrounding Christian group. So here in the UK it is not uncommon to see indie groups following Anglican or Roman Catholic custom and practice. To do otherwise is seen as suicidal. I was once chastised by a then member of the community, that my liturgical practice was not in keeping with what Anglicans would approve of! That’s nice, I replied, given that we are not Anglicans! It is a challenge to be authentically indie when all everyone sees, and most know is the custom and practice of a larger, stronger, Christian tradition surrounding your community. However, I believe that there is a lost opportunity for development within an authentic Indie context if we get lazy and merely “assimilate”.

We cannot overlook the fact that just as some in France (and I suspect too here in England) are quietly forsaking the religion of their immigrant families in order to feel better connected with French society, it is true that the Indie community looses many great thinkers, artists, and faithful members every year because of the pressures of being a minority, an “outsider”. Especially when it is entirely possible to simply attend, or join a church that has the same liturgical practice, and communal life and customs as the indie community one once enjoyed. Here the question becomes – what is our reason for being? What makes us different, especially now that the issues that brought the OC/IC movement into existence over a century ago, seem to no longer pose a challenge for modern believers.

Are we seeing new developments emerging in the OC/IC community, re-working and shaping our identity, our culture, and reason for being? I confess I don’t know that I have enough information to even begin answering this question. I have certainly seen shifts in my lifetime. Shifts away from predominately ethnic issues of Slovak, Polish, Belgian, and German. Shifts in the wider movement’s attitude toward authority. And more recently shifts in understanding what exactly qualifies as being OC/IC. These are all challenges. But I also like to think of them as opportunities for thoughtful committed Indie folk to develop and contribute to our “religious culture”.

Thinking about Indie religious culture, reflecting on the challenges and issues of other traditions, has given me more questions and answers. But I suspect that that is a good thing. It is good to be aware, to be conscious of what those things are that when set down together describe an OC/IC identity and practice. Twenty years ago I believed I understood what that was. Today . . . .I have many more questions than answers, and the challenges of being Indie in a culture that is overwhelmingly not, make some of those questions all the more interesting.

Philip Jenkins one of “America’s top religion writers” speaking in Charlotte, NC last Sunday described how Christianity is growing rapidly in Latin America, Asia, and Africa. I think we all knew that bit – but what grabbed my attention was this: “right now, the three most Christian regions in the world are Europe, Latin America and Africa – in that order“.

This, if true, would seem to seriously challenge the recent hystrionic cries of the likes of George Carey that “Christianophopia” has taken root in the UK and is ravaging our culture.

The rest of the article is worth reading as it describes the effect of the demographic shift in Christian belief and practice over the next half century.

When you enlightened all things at the time of your manifestation, the sea of unbelief ebbed away and the Jordan reversed its course, flowing uphill and carrying us to Paradise.

The feast of the Theophany is not just our celebration of the revelation of the Trinity, it is also a celebration of our initiation into the Christian mystery. Through our baptism we become living icons of the Logos, and being “properly called Christs” turn away from all other identities.

Our initiation into the Christian mystery is unique and all encompassing. Anyone who has been in the Old and Independent Catholic movement long enough will no doubt have encountered any number of other indie folk who have been “initiated” into various spiritual collectives. If, however, we take our baptism seriously, then it is only right that we ought to step away from these other initiations for one simple reason – if you have been infused with the divine life, with the image of the Logos himself – all other possible initiations are at best second rate, lacking the total fulfilment and substance of that which we receive from Christ in baptism.

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.

This little “sapling” of a conversation deserves more than its getting.

Looking at not only my own initial response on Twitter, as well as the response of others (see previous post) I’m realising that these two words are very “loaded”. Huw, rightly observes that the underlying question remains unanswered – what is our working definition of “spiritual”? What is our working definition of “religious”?

But here’s the caveat to those questions – can we define them without reference to the ongoing liberal vs. conservative war within and among faith communities? If we do succeed what affect does this have on the self description “spiritual but not religious”? Honestly, I’m not sure I have a definition – at least not yet – that is not consciously, or unconsciously rooted in the existing loaded nature of “spiritual” and “religious”.

Can I throw a spanner in the works here and ask – is there a difference between “religious” and “being faithful”? I ask this because it is how I often describe myself. It seems to me that to describe one self as being faithful is to actively divorce one self from the liberal vs. conservative, us vs. them, divisions.

Last week my friend and fellow Indie-Easterner Huw posed this question on Twitter: “Define ‘Spiritual but not religious’.” My initial response encompassed two ideas that I’ve encountered over the years from a significant number of people who describe themselves as being “spiritual but not religious”. First is the idea that the “institution” of religion impedes communion with God. Second that “dogma” or “doctrine” also impedes communion with God. Both of these themes have some very interesting problems. For example, people who describe themeselves as “spiritual but not religious” and go on to discuss their dissatisfaction at what they percieve to be the overly dogmatic nature of religous communities – frequently go on to make very clear statements of belief (doctrine) themselves. Opening the jar of questions about what do we know, and what do we percieve about the collection of teaching involved in a particular religious identity or praxis.

Huw uncovered an article from First Things “Spirituality Without Spirits” while a bit of a rant – makes an interesting point about the quality of being “non-dogmatic” in relation to also being “spiritual but not religious”:

“I don’t think Ms. Gaga or anyone else who talks like this has really thought it through. That God who forgives everyone and excludes no one doesn’t object to debauches in Berlin sex clubs. A point in his favor, from one point of view. But then he doesn’t object to murderers and torturers and corrupt bankers either. A point in his favor from no one’s point of view.”

Miller (the author) makes a fine point when he later says: “The word “spiritual” has no useful meaning if it does not refer to a relation to a real spirit. . . ” This is very true of course because that spirit necessarily has an identity, one which demands a particular relational mode, and that in turn shapes and informs the individual relating to it – just as all of our relationships shape and inform us as individuals.

In this morning’s news trawl I happened across another article this time in the Telegraph reporting that Mark Hucknull, the Chancellor of Lincoln Cathedral (a fantastic English cathedral by the way), criticises the “spiritual but not religous” crowd as selfish:

“To say that ‘I’ am ‘spiritual’ here is on a par with saying that ‘I’ am patient or thoughtful or generous; it is a description that is all about ‘me’.”

In truth this is not an unfair criticism. Think about the two themes already mentioned – the underlying issue in both is a desire to not be accountable, to not be challenged, and to not be expected to do X or Y in conjunction with one’s religious identity and praxis.

I’m aware that I’ve over-taken my usual 300 or so word limit so please bear with me just a few lines more, as I tie this into an OC/IC context. Ihave often heard indie folk, clergy and laity alike insist on being “non-dogmatic” or “non-doctrinal” – in essence “spiritual but not religious” the reasons given are that they endured the abuses of the “institutional church” and its imposition of doctrine through the activity of church officials. But It seems to me that they have run to the exact opposite extreme. The extremes at both ends are heretical as St. Epiphanius says in the Panarion.

“Spiritual but not religious” has had a lasting impact on the shape of the indie community over the past 20 years at least – one effect of this has been the simple fact that indie communities are fickle because people are afraid of committment, and they are afraid to call one another to account – because it might make them unpopular, and thereby shrink the “numbers” within the community. The problem with this model is that there is no integrity in it. Many people who convert – who become OC/IC believers do so because they are seeking a stronger connection between the integrity of the community and the practice of their sacramental Christian faith. “Spiritual but not religous” – non-dogmatic, simply does not cut it.

Have a look at the two articles, and maybe follow the sapling exchange of this thread on Twitter, but certainly add your thoughts to the comments below here.

“Alternatively, if one denomination unexpectedly adopts an aggressive policy of buying shares in another, then the resulting volatility will make it hard accurately to assess the underlying reality.”

Mark Vernon’s essay in the Guardian Online playing with the imagery of possible parallels between the language, dynamic, and psychology of the eddies of spiritual and religious flux is a fun read – and given the often unstable nature of the Indie climate – rather thought provoking.

Here’s an interesting essay about people converting for all the wrong reasons. This time from the perspective of a Roman Catholic pondering the possible effects of Anglicans joining his communion due to the recent decision by the Vatican. It’s a point I’ve tried to argue off & on for some time now here in relation to our own indie situation – for us, by and large, I think that addressing this issue in our setting would make huge leaps towards building better, healthier communities across the indie spectrum.

If you’ve been following my Theo-Twitter stream you’ll no doubt know that I’ve been puzzling over the Western idea of “merit” in relation to salvation for the past week or so. My interest was perked while reading a little book that summarises Western Christian history through the various “crisis” that have brought about change in its history – a neat premise I thought. The book is a bit overly simplistic but had some interesting “factoids” that made me sit and think a bit – this was one of them. It seems that Anselm of Canturbury argued that the “mechanics” of salvation are based on the fact that Christ through his death and resurrection earned über-merit and now distributes that “merit” to believers as he chooses.

I wondered if “merit” was still a part of the theology of other communities and did a bit of reading – and yup – there it is, in one place or another, in one form or another . . . but it seems to me – and this is just at a cursury reading – that this idea is . . . well . . . apalling! As I say, I’m still reading up on this – it is so foreign to my understanding of the “mechanics” of salvation that I’m having to start from scratch so anyone willing to fill in my knowledge gap is certainly invited to speak up.

Huw has also been thinking about “merit” albeit in a slightly different context and has written a really helpful post on the topic here. After I get my head around this idea a bit more I’ll post on it too – but in the mean time go visit Huw, and if you have some ideas and pointers on this – please, post a comment or two there, and here.

While making my rounds yesterday I fell into this essay “What Do Converts Want?” – written from a conservative Eastern Orthodox position. Reading the essay got me thinking – and asking the question (again) what is it that attracts folks to our OC/IC tradition – that is to say: what do OUR converts want?

Today while making my rounds I found this rather interesting graphic from the Pew Forum detailing the reasons American Christians noted for either changing, or disaffiliating from their denomonation. The listed reasons are interesting – and in some ways surprisingly unexpected. The graphic directly speaks to the question – what do converts want.

It seems to me that if we are to see improved stability and longevity in our communities we ought to be aware of these questions – and some of their answers. What is more, I’m guessing that some of our outreach efforts would benefit from an awareness of, and a sensitivity to the nuances of, some of the reasons for people seeking a new faith community.

I think it is also worth considering these topics because it allows those of us already “in” the community to ask, and reflect on why we are here, what are our core vision and values, and how far are we willing to bend, adjust, or compromise on them in order to accomodate new people in the community.

I’ve learned from hard experience over the years that it is better for everyone if we  bluntly, and unashamedly say, “this is us – this is who we are”, rather than to adapt our language and customs to our faulty perceptions of what the other seeks. When we don’t do this – those committed members in the community feel slighted, or puzzled, and the newcomer is left thinking we are without a spine – and therefore has no respect for the mission and life of the community as a whole.

We cannot be all things to all people – but we can be faithful.