Celtic Evangelism

Don’t think of this as a book review. In fact, I don’t do “book reviews” on purpose, but I do scan books for ideas of practical use. Right now I’m reading The Celtic Way of Evangelism, George G. Hunter III. Abingdon Press.

I never heard the word anamchara until a few weeks go. I thought it was one of those Hindu words or something. Then someone else told me I had an anamchara, after I mentioned that I had been mentored spiritually. An anamchara is a “soul friend”, he said—that is, someone who walks alongside you spiritually. My goodness—all these years I thought I had been discipled and now I find out I have been anamchara-ed.

Then I got hold of the book, The Celtic Way of Evangelism, and found the word again. Since then, I’ve been turning over in my mind the role that culture plays in our faith. I see the faith completely apart from the culture and probably have less regard for culture and psychology than many. I place far more emphasis on the purely spiritual, though I recognize that culture and psychology have a role in the Creation. I just don’t see them as ringmasters in matters of the faith. This probably lies behind my penchant for taking popular theology and standing it on its head. Today’s theology is very much about manipulation of the masses into the Christian faith via culture and psychology.

I rank culture and psychology along with forces of nature that God employs for His own purposes. God allows the rivers, but humans build the dams. Good? Bad? Sometimes both. Everything that humans redesign for some good seems to have some unintended consequence. But I wrestle within myself here. Does the use of culture and psychology to create understanding and change equal social engineering? And if so, does such social engineering deserve the same praise or condemnation as dam building, either because it improves something or interferes with nature?

Personality and culture, like the rest of nature, should only be tampered with in moderation, I think. One should ask first whether more harm will be done by altering something or by doing nothing. But personality and culture, as nature, is perhaps something to be understood even if not “done to”. If anything, that is the role I see where the Christian faith is concerned. It’s about working alongside the forces already in existence without subverting their good to some foreign purpose. Having got all this off my chest, let’s get on to the good part of the book I was about to describe.

The author, in delineating the difference between the ancient Celtic and Roman models of evangelism, notes some differences in their processes. He describes the Celtic monastic community’s efficient method of evangelization in the midst of what the Romans considered a barbaric, unreachable people. The old “Barbarians” and “pre-Christians” are compared to today’s “neo-Barbarians” and “post-Christians”—that is to say, people who derive religious and philosophical beliefs from one or more non-Christian sources and have no memory of things “Christian”. The 1950s methods employed by many churches will not work, Hunter asserts, because such methods appealed to a population with a Christian memory, and today’s generation often has no idea what these old-style ministers are talking about.

The old Celtic monastic community was much more varied than the Eastern monastic communities. Members might be celibate and single, young, old, parents with children and the like. They lived in a monastic enclosure, free of violence and distinguished as a haven apart from the world. A seeker, after gaining admittance, entered a completely different world from the one he was accustomed to.

Hunter describes the process like this:

Put yourself in the place of a seeker, or a refugee, or an abused teenager, who has been invited to visit a monastic community, and you have found your way there. What would you likely experience? You would meet a “porter” stationed near the monastic community’s entrance, whose chief role is to welcome guests and introduce them to the rest of the community. The abbot, and everyone else, would welcome you “with all courtesy of love.” The abbot would gently inquire about what prompted your visit (and so begin the ministry of conversation), and he would read a scripture for you, offer a prayer for you, and “extend the kiss of peace.” The abbot would wash your feet (from your journey by foot), and would show you to the guest house—which would be managed by a caring brother who would give you bedding. You would be included at the Abbot’s table at meals; if the Abbot was in a period of fasting, he would break the fast, for the Abbot has no higher priority than ministry with guests. …

Soon you would be given a soul friend, a small group, and a place for periods of solitude. You would learn some scripture; you would worship with the community. One or more persons would share the ministry of conversation and pray with you, daily. After some days or weeks, you would find yourself believing what these Christians believe, and they would invite you to commit your life to Christ and his will for your life. (pp. 52-53)

This nearly sounds like today’s intentional communities and attempts to reach the world through its own culture, but I can show some important differences later. But before I get to that, let me skip down the page to Hunter’s depiction of the Roman model, which later Protestant models also adopted. It is the one most widely in use today.

The Roman Church believed that some people groups were too uncivilized to accept the gospel. They had first to be civilized and then they could accept the message. This idea has had some variations, but in short:

… the Roman model for reaching people (who are “civilized” enough) is: (1) Present the Christian message; (2) Invite them to decide to believe in Christ and become Christians; and (3) If they decide positively, welcome them into the church and its fellowship. …

… the (contrasting) Celtic model for reaching people: (1) You first establish community with people, or bring them into the fellowship of your community of faith. (2) Within fellowship, you engage in conversation, ministry, prayer, and worship. (3) In time, as they discover that they now believe, you invite them to commit.

The book offers many ideas worth considering. Now to be sure, “Celtic Christianity” wears a lot of hats. Some groups are more orthodox than others. One adherent remarked that other “Celtic” groups don’t deserve the name as they are nothing but New Agers who just want to do what they want. To be sure, there is probably a lot more latitude in beliefs and accepted behaviors than the Apostles would have allowed, judging from their writings.

The words “relationship” and “community” have gained new emphasis almost across-the board in Christian churches of our day. Most churches do not apply a truly Celtic monastic method themselves, though they are becoming more accepting of non-traditional methods of acquiring these relational experiences. A few groups have begun to form intentional communities, which is an urban answer to the rural monastic experience of the early Celtic Church. By forming a community within a community, they are able to better mentor the unreached who come into their midst.

However, I do believe there is a downside to some of this. Hunter asserts that three-quarters of truly converted Christians are “caught”, not “taught”. It may well be true. But it is important to distinguish between the true intentional community and the church that caters to popular culture. Herein lies an important distinction. The monastic communities of old were always in control of their own communities. They gave the seeker a refuge from his own culture. The monastics of a community always outnumbered the seekers within their enclosure. In time they changed the culture outside their walls, but they did it without firing a shot or interfering in the town politics. Many of today’s churches seek to placate the post-Christian culture by re-making themselves into the cultural image of the outside world. It is very easy for a non-Christian to find “fellowship” in some of these churches for years without ever believing in Christ.

Certainly, the Celtic method has many positive implications for our own day. Still we must keep in mind that no “method” works in all situations. But this comes as close as any I have seen for a post-modern world in dire need of refuge and community.