Last night I watched a very sad report on Channel 4 documenting the plight of children in Nigeria who are tortured, shunned, and even killed because “Christian” evangelists accuse them of being witches.

Before I delve into some of the other thoughts this raised for me I would like to encourage you to click here, read a synopsis, view a few video clips, and most importantly to donate to the two organisations CRARN and Stepping Stones mentioned in the documentary.

The report made me think again about the range of “christianities” that we participate in, and that we encounter; the whole gamut can be experienced in our own OC/IC community. Realising that there is not just one version, or expression of the faith is in many respects a real joy and a comfort – but that also comes tinged with apprehension, and dismay. Apprehension about that psychological line that demarcates “Christianity” from “other”; cross it, and you have entered something entirely different. Dismay at some of the shapes that some varieties of “christianity” are taking.

The Nigerian Pentacostal movement is infused with traditional African beliefs and practices; notably about witches and sorcery. One man interviewed on last night’s program called himself a bishop, and proudly declared that he has killed over 100 children because they were witches; and he does so, in the name of Christ. During the program, the film-makers attend a church service where the preacher denounces a woman’s teenage son as a witch – before the entire congregation, and with the boy present. The poor young man was unsurprisingly dismayed. The commentator sadly noted that they did not know what happed to the boy after that. This is a variety of “christianity” evocative of 17th century Salem, one that has arisen in Nigeria within the past 50 years or less. I am left wondering, how many more children will die before it burns itself out? How many people will have their perception of the teachings of Christ irreparably twisted because of their experience of this particular variant? How many others, inspired by the power and the affluence that comes with being a “preacher” or “prophet” in Nigerian Pentacostalism, will go on to do even worse?

Bp. John Plummer has observed that we OC/IC folk like to try things – those that work, stick, those that don’t eventually fade away (or destroy the group that experimented with it in the first place . . . . often both simultaneously). This is one of the great things about our OC/IC movement – we are not afraid to try new things, to reshape our expression of the faith based upon our experience of the faith. We all know the stories (or maybe even experienced first hand) of clerics and charismatic leaders in the movement who have left a wake of hurt and destruction. I’m not looking to dwell on those tales here. What does interest me however, is the interaction between what we bring to our experience of the faith, and that body of teaching we call the Gospel.

Nigerian Pentacostalism is an extreme to be sure, but it hits you hard with a very good question: “Do we OC/IC folk strive for a variety of Christianity that conforms to us; or are we allowing ourselves to be transformed by the teaching?” In the case of Nigerian Pentacostalism, we can see how the expression and experience of “christianity” has been overwhelmed by, shaped by, local traditional beliefs; it therefore conforms to the local ideas and culture, rather than being the transforming agent. I don’t think it is unfair to say that in this case, as in the case of some of our own “co-religionists” the label “Christian” carries with it a sense of clout and respectability.

Within the OC/IC community it is easy to see how we can, and do fall into the trap of making the teaching fit our mould, conforming to our expression – sometimes, it is clearly an expression which we have artificially crafted rather than allowing it to take shape of its own accord. Think for a moment about the issues that are often raised when talking to folks who have come into the movement (conversely think about how those issues contributed to shaping the variety of Christianity from which they came): women’s ordination, LGBT issues, universalism, relativism, ritualism are but a few that come immediately to mind.

It is, I think unreasonable to expect that our various expressions of the faith will be devoid of a bit of syncretism. But again there is the question where is that psychological line of demarcation – at which point is the level of syncretism such that this expression of faith and spirituality is no longer a viable christian baby?

I think in order to sift through some of these questions it is helpful to be a bit clearer on terminology; I’ve been using “experience” and “expression” rather liberally I’d like now to change my terms to “belief” and “practice”. Practice is easy – it is a good stand in for “expression”. Practice is the expression of belief. People’s experience of the faith is largely their encounter with its practice. Recall the axiom of St. Vincent, if you want to know what they believe, observe their worship.

Belief on the other hand is, I think a bit trickier. Strictly speaking belief is accepting the truth of a teaching. Ok, simple enough; but what about its interpretation? In some respects, once you begin the process of exegesis you expand the body of teaching. It is not merely to explain the teaching, but to expound upon, and expand it – hopefully, in the spirit of, or conforming to the mode of that teaching. We have centuries of Christian and Jewish scholars doing just this.

If you already believe in witches, spirit possession and sorcery, then you will seek out confirmation of that from other, more authoritative sources, and your teaching will expound upon, and expand that belief – we see this in action in the Nigerian Pentecostal movement. There are examples in the Gospels of spirit possession; it is interesting to note however, that in these cases the possessed are incapacitated, and perceived to be victims of their own, or someone else’s sinfulness – they have no power over others. Belief in witches justified, you can now move on to expounding upon how to solve the problem of witches in the village. In the Gospels, Jesus expels the daemons, and spirits, and the individual is restored. In Nigeria, however, you already have “effective” local methods of doing the same – methods which it seems do not emphasise the restoration of the individual, but highlight the sense of security of the collective – these methods of exorcism then are simply integrated into the local practice of “christianity”, or better still have a “christianity” grafted onto them.

Now, let’s take a minute and put this into a more familiar context. Many OC/IC communities (my own included) are proud to welcome LGBT folk as full participating members of the sacramental life. Do we come to this understanding first, then find its justification in the Gospels, and from there shape the expression of our belief? Or do we find that we are drawn to this belief because of the teaching of Christ? Or is it somehow a mixture of both? I guess in a way the question is – is our welcoming of LGBT folk shaped from within the body of teaching of Christ, or from without?

When we pray the Our Father in the Liturgy we state our trust in God’s will: “your will be done”, when the Theotokos received the good news from Gabriel she proclaimed “behold I am the servant of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” In both cases we express our belief in the transforming power of the Gospel – of the teaching. We do not need to look hard, or far, to witness the horror of what happens when we do not allow the teaching to transform us. The question then is: do we begin from this place of trusting the teaching often enough?

I was working on my thesis this morning and while considering aspects’ of Nestorius’ warning about the possible excesses of the title Theotokos – found myself thinking about the Roman Catholic idea of Mary as Mediatrix. I wondered to myself if it was not a bit prophetic on Nestorius’ part to raise issue with the title Theotokos, and went in search of some clarity on the use and meaning of Mediatrix. I found this, among others.

One element of this that surprised me was the heavy emphasis of Mary’s suffering at the cross during Christ’s crucifixion – and that it was in this moment that she truly becomes “mediatrix” and dispensor of grace.

My reading of the patristic sources suggests a . . . . counter argument . . . (perhaps not the best term). Mary’s importance as the subject of devotion emerges in the Late Antique period and is not focussed on her suffering, but instead on her becoming the Theotokos – the one who bore the one who is God – it is in this moment, according to the patristic sources, that Mary becomes the source of “super-abundant grace” (St. Proklos Hom. 1.1).

Patristic writers variously pointed to John’s account of Mary at the foot of the cross, as a demonstration of her post-natal virginity (because in vs. 19.26-7 Jesus – her only son, hands her into the care of John, and not for example James); or a fulfilment of Simeon’s prophecy (Lk. 2.35) that her heart would be pierced by a sword.

From an OC/IC perspective I wonder if the use of Mediatrix and it’s complimentary title Co-Redemptrix are actually helpful titles – after all, Nestorius held that the term too readily lent itself to excessive Marian devotion, distorting the true image of Mary as a woman, participating in the economy, and thus her real value in the tradition.