According to the Pew Forum on Religion in Public Life, 76% of Americans describe themselves as Christian. However, only 45 % are able to attribute the Gospels to Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John. A majority of Americans self identify as Christian, however, nearly half of that group don’t know what it is that they are identifying with – at least not according to the usual definitions. This raises the interesting question of what is Christianity “now”, and do we perhaps need to renew or reform our commonly understood academic markers of Christian identity. The inability to identify key markers of Christian teaching and culture is not an exclusively “American” problem. Similar studies have been done here in the UK and the results are not significantly different. This is an element “religious illiteracy” – and it is having a corrosive effect across religious interactions, as well as within British and American society.

“New Atheists” use religious illiteracy to promote their agenda. Dawkins and Hitchens are fully aware that they are being less than honest about the nature of religion and belief – but to do so serves their rhetorical purpose. Using religious illiteracy Christian fundamentalism here in the UK for example, can promote false ideas about the persecution of Christianity. Religious illiteracy allows televangelists in the US to amass vast fortunes on the backs of the poor and the lonely. The shameful decline in the understanding of the nature of science in the US and now the UK is firmly grounded in religious illiteracy. Religious illiteracy has a very tangible impact on our day to day lives. It effects how people view one another. It effects our praxis, as well as our own self understanding as people of faith.

But lets take a moment to talk about religious illiteracy in the our OC/IC context. And yes – it does exist for us – which is both sad and amusing when you consider that our history is grounded in the ideas and protests of the intellectual elite. A number of recent conversations brought this home to me in a way I never before considered. A friend attending an indie liturgy over the course of a few weeks, was asking people in the congregation about what brought them int to he OC/IC community. They could not answer the question because – they did not know that they were worshipping within the OC/IC umbrella! Indie websites are a hard thing to view sometimes – precisely because of the overwhelming amount of religious illiteracy published there. One example of religious illiteracy that pops up repeatedly on OC/IC websites is that on one hand the community prides itself in its Old Catholic credentials – the usual: apostolic succession, liberal thinking, and adherence to the Declaration of Utrecht, while on the other splashing pictures and homilies online showing the community’s celebration of the Feast of the Immaculate Conception! These are simple, easy to see examples. They do however, demonstrate that the challenges we face in the Indie community are not that different from those of other Christian communities.

Why call it religious illiteracy, and not religious ignorance? I prefer religious illiteracy because it is active and not passive. Religious literacy is about participation in, and engagement with the ideas and praxis of faith communities – the religious literate has the skills to participate, and actively seeks to better place him- or herself in that context. To be a religious literate is more than “knowing” historical facts, and official teaching, and being able to reproduce them. Centuries ago people who could read would still call themselves “illiterate” – not because they did not have the ability to read the text on the page, but because they did not have the skills to participate in the literary culture of the day. These “illiterates” were not participating in the production and consumption of literature and its surrounding ideas and practices. Religious illiteracy functions in the same way. Thus, to be a religious literate is to participate in one’s religious culture – to be engaged with its ideas, and to contribute to those ideas through the life of the community.

People who have left their religious community seem to do so in part because they seek to become more literate. I read an article that detailed a project in a Roman Catholic diocese that conducted “exit interviews” with people who had left the church. One of the issues highlighted in these interviews was that when people sought to explore issues and questions, they were more often than not simply given the “rule” or “official teaching”. In essence these folk were shut out of becoming religiously literate – and it (rightly) made them angry enough to leave. I confess that this point in the project surprised me. First – I have observed over many years of OC/IC ministry that people generally expect our clergy to be religiously literate for them rather than with them – essentially handing over their baptismal rights to someone else to manage on their behalf. Is this conditioning due to the fact that so many OC/IC folk are “former” something else? I’m not always certain. The response to the exit interviews conducted in the Roman Catholic project were also counterintuitive. I have frequently been told by folks within the Indie community that people are simply not interested in the theology, that they don’t care about the background, or the foreground for that matter. People want to hear about their hot button issues (one reason why they join Indie communities in the first place), they want to receive communion, throw a few quid in the collection and get the hell out. Here again I find myself asking is this purely due to conditioning – having had that exact experience in their previous community setting – or is it an active choice on their part? Do we not owe it to our membership to offer something better? I think we do – but first it seems we must break through the barrier that produces or maintains this unsatisfactory situation – we need to challenge religious illiteracy within our own ranks.

One challenge to tackling Indie religious illiteracy is the simple fact that our clergy and lay leaders are not usually religious literates themselves. The impact of this fact is plain to see – we have no voice. Not only are the laity “conditioned” to hand over their baptismal authority to others, but our clergy rarely offer anything beyond the stock answers and official pronouncements of another institution. This is a conscious strategy in part – at least as I have observed it over the years. Regurgitating the doctrine and rule of another, “larger” “more authoritative” institution is safe, comfortable, non-threatening. It is, many believe, what the people wish to hear. Really? If so then why is it that they are worshipping in a tiny, marginalised independent sacramental community if they did not wish to hear a different voice a bolder voice, a different perspective? The leaders of our own movement are letting us down. These are the men and women who ought to be forward looking, engaged, zealous for the tradition. What we find instead is that they are consciously and unconsciously promoting religious illiteracy! We ought to all be asking – of ourselves, and of one another – where is our Indie Voice? How can we possibly tackle religious illiteracy if we are not willing to be bold enough to break away from the stock answers of another “Church”? Rather than slapping up pictures of bishops in liturgical drag, or producing websites dripping in fake medieval coats of arms, why not instead publish the transcript of the community exploring an interesting aspect of praxis or theology? This speaks to our voice – this expresses the willingness of the community to lead, rather than follow – and it develops the religious literacy of Indie folk by drawing them into the conversation. Our own leadership fails to pass on the history and ethos underpinning our Indie identity – is it any wonder then that we encounter “Indie folk” who don’t even know that they are Indie?

We ought to expect and demand better. The only way that we, all of us, are going to receive the fullest possible benefit from the experience of being baptised believers and belonging to our individual OC/IC community of choice is to be religious literates; to be, all of us, well informed participants in our OC/IC religious culture. Being able to perform a flawless liturgy, and barf up Bible bytes, to know who ordained whom, and when A schismed from Z, is not what I mean when I say that we ought to expect better – the net is actually a much wider one, one that is truly “catholic” in that it allows for everyone who desires to be a religious literate – to fully experience such literacy, and thereby to contribute to the religious literacy of others through art, research, hospitality, teaching and conversation. The net of religious literacy encompasses the grand arcs of history art and theology to be sure, but they also include our personal histories, and the story of our collective journey. These experiences informed by all the other elements from the story arc of “us” and create our understanding of being religious literates “now” while also laying the groundwork for what might come tomorrow. Being religiously literate is an active forward looking process one that demands investment from each individual, as well as from the collective. Without it, we condemn ourselves to be fossilised samples of “The Church” of the 19th century – a common affliction among Indie groups. With religious literacy we become icons of the Living Christ. Tackling religious illiteracy within our own ranks will I believe result in stronger, stable, engaged, creative Indie communities. It is an opportunity to see an old problem in a new light – and together to take action and do something positive about it.
Where would you begin? What tools would you use within your small Indie community? Finally can you envision ways in which you and your community can reach out to collaborate with other Indie folk – widening the net, and becoming just that little bit more engaged?

Many in the Indie movement are converts – indeed there are few of us who have had a “genetic” link to it if you will from previous generations in our family. I have on previous occasions talked about how difficult it can be for people to make the transition from a large “powerful” and well financed “church” to a tiny, dirt poor, anonymous Indie community. It is hard – for many it is very hard indeed. Your heart says “This is where I belong.”; but your conditioning says “This is just not quite right.”

I think that the place to start addressing this is not on an “institutional” level – but on a personal level, on a relational level within the life of the fellowship of believers – and the way to do this is to change our story.

Take for example a few simple very simple visuals. Your community does a benediction of the sacrament – why? Your bishop is never seen without a red sash, zucchetto and episcopal ring – why? You say the rosary, or have icons in the house – why? Your priest wears a collar, or riasa – why? When you receive communion in your community it comes as a disc shaped bone white wafer – why? These are only a few of a hundred different simple, everyday things that when we go to mass or liturgy, or when we do something devotional of an individual nature we take for granted, we “assume” them – why? More importantly what about the not so simple “ideas” and more substantive praxis that again we “assume” or take for granted – why? The question is not a challenge, it is, but not in the sense of challenging your choice. The question is a challenge to reflect on the very important story behind the activity.

Why?

I have heard it many times from people within the Indie community when you ask what attracted them to the OC/IC movement. You can boil most answers (even the angry reactionary ones) down to a simple idea. I wanted a fresh start.

So, here is my question – and this one is a challenge – if you come seeking a fresh start, why is it that you still do all the things you used to do? One possible answer is that it is what “catholics” do – also known as “this is what we have always done”. But if you came into the Indie movement seeking a fresh start then would it not be a really helpful exercise to sit down and walk through your personal religious story and ask some questions about “what I do as a “catholic”” and compare that to – what I can do as a “new” Sacramental Christian – an indie believer?

Here’s the reality though – and this too is borne out by many years of observation. It is very hard to change the story. It is very hard to challenge the story. Why? Largely because of conditioning. We are conditioned to understand and perceive that the “catholic” story functions this way, or that way, it includes these symbols, but not those symbols. And here’s where it becomes very personal – aware of our conditioning, we find that while it is certainly true that we really want to take advantage of the opportunity to have a fresh start – we often don’t because “catholics don’t do it that way”.

We are approaching the end of Lent looking forward to Pascha – the death and resurrection of the Incarnate Logos. Christ’s life and teaching is an example of radically changing the story, of asking questions about “the way we’ve always done it”, and coming up with very different answers. Through his death and resurrection we are liberated from the old story, and given an opportunity to reflect, and reshape our story – as individuals of faith, and as communities of faith.

So, now, what can we do to change the story?

Do you wear a cross? Do you believe doing so is an integral part of your faith as a practicing Christian? Is this a personal understanding or do you believe that our tradition obliges you to do so? These are only a few of the questions raised by a controversy here in the UK about the “right” of Christians to wear a cross or other religious symbols in the workplace or in public. I am finding that, while I am not a huge fan of the quarters from whence this controversy is being generated and sustained – it is making me ask some useful questions about the nature of symbols, and the relationship these symbols have to our practice and identity as sacramental Christians.

I find it curious that the more ardent conservative media sources are giving this issue the most space. Liberal and moderate media outlets are all but ignoring it. I cannot say as though I entirely understand why this imbalance exists. But it does raise some very interesting questions about how religion, more specifically Christianity, is reported in the media, questions that are for another post. Overall I find that religion reporting, like science reporting is extremely poor in the UK.

Is the debate surrounding visibly wearing crosses about real theology or, is it about fear? I actually think it is about fear, but I say that because of the source of the controversy – it is being backed by the likes of Lord Carey, Bp. Nizir-Ali, and the Christian Legal Centre, all proponents of the idea that “Christianophobia” exists in Britain today. That being a practicing Christian is increasingly under threat by Europe, radical Secularists, and Muslims. Their argument boils down to wearing a cross is a religious duty, a defence of Christianity against these forces aggressively marginalising the faith in contemporary British society. That this is grounded in reactionary fear rather than sound theology is further evidenced by the arguments individuals are setting forth in reports, and social media in support of openly wearing crosses. The overall content of the argument goes like this: Sikh’s wear turbans, Muslim women wear hijabs, and Christians are being penalised for displaying the cross. More than one commentor has written that while they did not previously wear a cross – they will now do so. Others have stated that while in the past they have worn their crosses discretely – now they will do so openly. Fifty years ago in Western Europe there was no compelling “need” to wear a cross openly – the running assumption was that the majority were practicing Christians. Now, in Britain at least, that assumption is being challenged – or it is felt that it is being challenged by very visible “alien” religions, the “New Atheists” and bizarrely, Brussels. This is not an argument grounded in solid theology, praxis, or faith – this is an argument grounded in fear, and reaction.

Back in 2006 we saw a similar controversy over the veil in the UK. At the time Tony Blair is reported as saying that the veil is a “mark of separation”. The controversy, it seems to me, is not really about defending our right to practice our faith (though Lord Carey and his band of not so merry men would like you to think that it is), rather it is about doing the very thing that many – conservative and liberal alike – accuse the Muslim community of doing, marking a clear boundary between “us” and “them”, between the “civilised” and the “savage”, the “saved” and the “damned”. This is not sound theology – it is a reaction born of anxiety and prejudice.

For this argument to be effective, however, the symbolism of the cross must be re-claimed from its current status as a fashion accessory, and re-asserted in the mind of popular culture as a religious icon. The history of its journey from icon to accessory is I think closely linked with the emergence of modern media – and I bet it would be a fascinating study to conduct. Think for a moment about the use of image of Buddha, Kali and Lakshmi in restaurants, handbags, and T-shirts: what is the “function” of these religious icons on consumer goods? Advertising for sure, but they have also become, or are increasingly becoming visual elements in our media culture. I’m using these examples first because their appearance on consumer products is more recent – and therefore more thought provoking than that of the cross, which was an established consumer product over 30 years ago. However, in the past ten years it has become fashionable for young people to wear plastic Roman Catholic rosaries – how do they understand this item and its imagery? Is it merely fashion, does it function as an impersonal talisman, or is it somehow devotional? I think I am not too far removed from the “history” to speculate that it is rooted not in faith, but in the culture of central American gang violence – which migrated to American gang culture, and entered the music industry (popular culture) and from there everyone wanted to be seen wearing this accessory because that’s what celebrity singers and rappers do. I’m willing to be proven wrong here – this rundown is purely speculative based on my own observation and guess work. The association between plastic rosary and wearer is not one of the wearer to God, and the mysteries of the faith, but of the wearer to his or her favourite popular celebrity. Here then we see how the cross has truly lost its meaning in the popular mindset. I have on occasion seen individuals wearing a rosary, or crucifix (either as a necklace, earring, or broach) while wearing a T-shirt imprinted with a Hindu God or Goddess. I cannot help but wonder about the symbolism and meaning of these images for the wearer. Do they have any at all – or is it merely a consumer choice of the most interesting and colourful accessories. Regardless of an individual’s interpretation, what is in evidence is how the meaning and value of these religious icons have been altered in a very short period of time. The point is that the cross has been a part of this process. Its meaning is no longer obvious. We cannot assume that because we see someone wearing a cross that that individual is a believing practicing Christian. Indeed I would argue that a quick survey of cross wearers would result in a very low number of believers, but a very high number of people giving other reasons for wearing it. Thus, if the symbolism of the cross no longer has meaning in the popular mindset then how can we expect that to wear it openly makes a statement about our religious belief?

What do you think: is wearing a cross a “requirement” of our faith? If you wear a cross openly and regularly why do you do it?

I like Will Meyer’s observation: “There is one principle that ISM clergy have never heeded well: simplicity of vesture. In the words of Mademoiselle Chanel: “Before you go out, always take something off”. In the ISM, perhaps the more appropriate statement is “The Infant of Prague is to be venerated, not imitated.” Lets all be honest – he is right. One need only make a cursory sweep through Indie websites and blogs to see an entire line up of “Infant of Pragues”. It may at first appear to be a superficial topic, however, there is a worthwhile conversation here. This is not purely about aesthetics – as Will’s post rightly points out it is about context, respecting the dignity of the moment. I also wonder if it is not an opportunity to expand on our understanding of what community is, and what it does.

Clothing is symbolic. If you think I’m joking take a moment and look at a collection of celebrity photographs. Pay close attention to the fashion labels and accessories in the image. Now, go do some people watching – where do you see those labels and accessories? How many market stalls are selling cheap chinese knock-offs? Take a moment and think about the conscious and unconscious “statements” people make, including yourself, about themselves, through the clothes that they choose to wear. Our clothing communicates social status, or aspired to social status, group affiliation, politics, and much more. Often this communication is so unconscious – because of the other choices we have made – that we assume, or take for granted the messages we project, and those that we “read” in others.

The symbolism of clothing in a liturgical setting is intensified because liturgy, by its very nature, is highly symbolic. The shape of the rite, the ritual gestures, even the ritual food, is a stripped down indicator of a larger conversation that we are all having with one another, and with God. When the priest is vested, he or she fulfils a particular role; one that is a step outside the ordinary. That slight shift in appearance can empower individual community members to step outside the ordinary with the celebrant and take in the fullness of the mystery.

Too often in our Indie context vestments become a distraction, rather than a compliment to the ministry and unity of the community. Here is where Will’s observation of the Infant of Prague comes into its own. I have over the years met too many clergy whose prized collection of vestments would put Imelda Marcos’ famed shoe collection to shame. I have seen priests scour the internet, and vintage shops for church chatchky bankrupting themselves (or their community) in the process. There is a sickness, a form of idolatry at work here. Acquiring, and then using more and more liturgical costume – sometimes even changing costumes throughout a liturgy – does not respect the dignity of the mystery. The focus shifts from the Gospel, to the individual celebrant, from we together as one, to “me” the pretty one flouncing about in satin and lace. The purpose of vestments – to shift one’s focus and step outside the mundane, is turned on its head, entrenching the community in the ordinary.

I’m a big fan of make your own. I’m lucky in that I have enough “skill” to get away with it. But if one does not, surely this is an opportunity to tap into existing creative skills within the community, and to cultivate new ones. Doing so is not about aesthetics, or vanity – it can open a door to real ministry, by taking what is learned in the process of that creative act, and shifting its purpose to serve a function outside the boundary of the community. The simple act of coming together to create, for example, a set of vestments, establishes a working bond, a creative skill set, and a sense of pride in being a liturgical community that does more than just celebrate liturgy. The idea of starting within, and then moving beyond with what one has learned, is not without precedent in Christian practice. Indeed it is exactly what the early ascetics and desert Fathers did. They retreated to locations beyond the city walls, achieved a skill in spiritual discipline, and then returned to share that skill with those inside the city – outside the desert. Drawing upon the skills to make beautiful vestments a community could then turn around and make functional items for the poor, the lonely, and the sick – but make them well, and bring some beauty and joy into the other’s world. I have seen more than one “exhibit” created by small groups designed to offer a moment of beauty and reflection for visitors. This is a gift of spirit that cannot be bought on eBay, or “worn” in multiple layers of lace and satin. This is a real community in creative action – doing ministry outside the expected boundaries of “mere” liturgy.

How many Indie folk are there? This is a question that has been in the back of my mind for over a year now. I keep seeing hints – but nothing concrete. I’ve assumed that nobody is counting us. And even with what I found yesterday on the ARDA site – I’m not sure that there truly is an overarching study.

I suspect that such a study would be a nightmare to design. Who is and who is not “Indie”? This is one reason why John Plummer coined the term ISM – there are so many possibilities, so many branches, so many “tributaries” if you will that feed the stream we know as the OC/IC ISM . . . “Indie” movement. For my own part I generally only “count” those tributaries that have a direct link to either Mar Julius, or the Old Catholics. Everything else, while it can be loosely classified as “Indie” does not share the same historical thread as the rest of us. I know this is arbitrary on my part, but I also wonder if it is not also true to say that some of the other tributaries do not see themselves, or identify themselves as being a part of the OC/IC stream.

Yesterday, I saw this on the ARDA website. I found it quite by accident – through another article, that pointed to the section, but to another denomonation (UCC I think it was). At first you’ll think, this has nothing to do with Indie communities and getting a feel for how many of us are out there. But I urge you to take a moment and dig a little. You’ll find, for example, that the Liberal Catholics (both branches) are accounted for, so too is the Apostolic Episcopal Church, and the African Orthodox, among quite a few others. The stats account for both active and inactive jurisdictions. I was plesantly surprised that they were not all the big names like the PNC.

While these figures are drawn from various years and are not all consistent – that is up to date, and thus we can’t simply add them all up and get “a picture” of the current state of the movement, they do give us an idea of the shape of the Indie community over the past 50 years or so – and yes, in some cases up until relatively recently. It is not a perfect resource, but it is perhaps a starting point for talking about how many of us there really are, and what that could mean for our future sustainability – especially in relation to my post the other day about the supposed decline of “the Church” in Western society.

Blogging can often seem like a one way “broadcast”. The blogger writes up what interests him or her, posts it, and waits to see what happens. There are many posts, essays, books and articles out there advising bloggers on how to cultivate more engagement with their audience. I have even written a few posts encouraging other Indie bloggers. Indeed I have on more than one occasion argued that we need to be engaging with one another more in the OC/IC community than we currently do (or seem to do). There is however, a notable entropy in blog audiences. A quick survey of the overwhelming number of crackpot and thoughtless comments on the more lively blog comment feeds is enough to encourage any blogger to turn commenting off completely, and thank God for some peace and quiet.

Every morning I trawl through my various feeds and sources to look for interesting items that might be relevant to Indie life, or a snippet of an essay that inspires me to write a post. I enjoy this, don’t get me wrong, but this is still a one sided process. I am choosing things that interest me. There is therefore a bit of a bias, and perhaps because of it I’m not writing posts that could really be interesting not only for me as a writer, but also for you as the audience. I need to find a way to break through the one sided-ness of blogging, to make this less of a broadcast of my ideas and reflections, and more of a conversation with readers, whoever you might be. The basic idea then is for readers – yes, you – to “suggest a post”. I don’t care if you are a regular lurker who silently enjoys poking around the site, or someone who is merely passing by and wants to “see what’s under this rock”, I am inviting you to ask a question or suggest a topic for a post. Who knows, it could be your suggested topic that really gets a conversation going, and I believe that that would be a good thing.

Because successful blogs have a niche that they stick to, and because there are plenty of crackpots out there who just like being cyber-wankers (can I use that term in polite company?) this little project needs some structure, a few parameters to maintain focus and cultivate conversation. So when you are formulating your suggested post, or question please do so with the following in the forefront of your thinking:

• Keep it relevant: your suggested post or question will only see the light of day if it is relevant to Christian theology or practice, and it can be addressed or explored from an OC/IC ISM perspective.
• The importance of being Pith: If I need twenty minutes to figure out that there might be a question or suggested topic tangled amongst the morass of words, then it is unlikely that your suggested post will come into being. Keep your suggestions to three (3) sentences or less. This should be fun, engaging, and not painful for everyone concerned.
• Rudeness will be rewarded: It goes without saying that all thoughtless, rude and spurious suggested posts will be deleted, and you will be banned from commenting in future. Yeah, its harsh, but the goal is thoughtful conversation and not eating our young, or complaining about other communities.

If your suggested post is selected I will drop you a note and let you know when to expect it. This by way of pointing out that no anonymous comments or suggestions are accepted. Occasionally a suggested topic might be best answered by someone else – or by more than one person. When that happens I will reach out to that person and ask them to contribute a guest post (no guarantee that they will agree to it, but I will ask all the same). Generally I try to keep my posts short – between 300 and 500 words. As this post is already pushing 1000 words you can tell that the “ideal” is not always practical. If the answer to your suggested post is substantial I will do what I can to break it up into easy to read chunks. While the long-read movement in social media is gaining ground, I appreciate that many people are overloaded with posts, articles, and videos and aim to make posts here as easy and informative to the reader as possible (barring of course the limitations of my own skill, or lack there of, in writing).

One of the stated aims of this blog is to get the audience talking, and to encourage Indie folk to think and create outside the usual limited set of topics. I don’t want this to be a mere broadcast of my ideas and interests. Your suggested topic or question might be the spark that starts a very productive exploration of an idea or issue Indie folk generally don’t see or touch upon. If this trial run works then I will create a permanent page where you can suggest a post at any time. For the moment – at least once every two weeks I’ll “re-post” this post or reference it. While I am hopeful, I doubt that I shall be inundated with suggested posts. I will be happy to get one a month, happier if it is more, and ecstatic if it means that the actual posts results in a real conversation. Now its up to you, what would you like to read in a post here?

Check out Will Meyer’s new – well new to me – blog on the indie experience over at Vagrant Vicar. And if you know of other active indie bloggers you think we should be reading by all means drop a note in the comments.

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.

Have a look at these videos over at the Guardian. I thought it was a very well put together “intro” to Green-theology. Where would you start if you were to put together an Indie Green Manifesto?

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.