This photo was taken in 2012 on a Wesley Study Centre day retreat to Lindisfarne, just a couple of months before I started serving as a Probationer Presbyter in the Wharfedale and Aireborough Methodist Circuit.
In the foreground is Cuthbert’s Island, a small island just off Lindisfarne that you can walk to when the tide is out but that, like Lindisfarne itself is cut off at high tide. In the background is Lindisfarne itself with St Mary’s church in a position of prominence. The island is called Cuthbert’s island because its where St Cuthbert, one of the Celtic saints, used to go on his own to pray and the remains of his hermitage can be seen in the photo, marked by the simple wooden cross.
Those of you who have been reading these Sabbatical Reflections may remember that originally the focus of my Sabbatical was to be a ten day pilgrimage to the Holy Land with associated reading and study. When it became clear that this wasn’t going to be possible I felt God leading me to a short pilgrimage to Lindisfarne, also known as Holy Island; a place I’d visited before and one of the cradle places for Christianity in our land: not the Roman Catholic Christianity that became dominant in later centuries by the gentler Christianity of saints like Aidan, Cuthbert and Hilda of Whitby: a form of Christianity generally known as Celtic Christianity.
Some scholars object to the phrases ‘Celtic Christianity’ and ‘Celtic Spirituality’ and whilst acknowledging their opinion and reasoning I will use the phrases as a handy shortcut for the rest of this reflection: as it is indeed intended as a piece of reflection rather than scholarly writing.
I’m reflecting as I prepare to go on retreat to Lindisfarne, a retreat that as I write is less than two weeks’ away. Lindisfarne is known as Holy Island (along with Iona in Scotland), as what the Celts called a thin place where the veil between earth and heaven is especially thin and it can somehow be easier to pray and hear the voice of God. I am told this is especially true when the tide is in and Lindisfarne is cut off from the mainland.
I will admit that I am going to Lindisfarne in the hope of encountering God in a special way as I think about leaving my current Circuit and churches, which is going to be really difficult spiritually and emotionally, and go the Burnley & Pendle Methodist Circuit to serve as their Superintendent minister. I am hoping that on Lindisfarne God will bless me with his real, tangible presence and a spiritual anointing for what is to come.
Lindisfarne will also, I think, be a place to ponder what I am starting to become convinced is a way forward for the Christian Church in our land: not to look to the future and to new forms of church like Café Church or Messy Church, good though these are, but to look to the past and the native Celtic Christianity of our islands. This has been a growing conviction within me for a number of years, and first came to me whilst on another Wesley Study Centre retreat at Ampleforth Abbey in 2011 as feeling God was saying that the way forward for the church was unity not division, combining the best of the traditions of each major denomination with a progressive and dynamic yet orthodox theology. It is for this reason that I am a supporter of the Anglican/Methodist Covenant and the two churches working towards organic unity as a first step.
The great thing about the Celtic Christianity of our islands is that it combines the best characteristics of the various forms of Christianity that abound in our world today.
Simon Reed, Chair of the Caim Council of the Community of Aidan and Hilda, sums these characteristics up, in his book Creating Community: Ancient Ways for Modern Churches thus: “The Celtic Church had an Evangelical emphasis upon the Scriptures and upon mission, a Catholic sense of the importance of incarnation and sacrament, a Pentecostal-charismatic experience of the work of the Holy Spirit and an orthodox vision of God as Trinity.
This sense of evangelism and mission is vital today in the UK, with many of our churches experiencing a decline in membership and increasingly elderly membership, with fewer and fewer people able or willing to undertake the tasks needed to keep a church functioning. The only way to grow the church is to bring others to Christ, not through mass rallies with famous evangelists and preachers, but through friendship and Christian example in our community through unconditional no strings attached mission and service, the way of our Celtic Christian ancestors.
This Catholic sense of the importance of incarnation and sacrament is reflected in the formality and ritual of high church worship which, when done well under the leading of the Holy Spirit, conveys a strong sense of mystery and the other. I have read on several occasions that the fastest growing form of Christian worship in the UK in Cathedral worship: that people of all ages are attending Cathedral services because of their sense of tradition and dignity and rootedness in the eternal, that sense that a church service takes place in a liminal space between earth and heaven. This is also a feature of Celtic Spirituality and worship.
Celtic Christians were also very close to nature and Celts, whether Christian or not, cared for the land. One example of this closeness to nature was that after St Cuthbert spent a night praying whilst standing in the sea up to his neck in water, otters came and dried him when he came ashore. This chimes in well with our modern concerns for the environment and preserving our planet for future generations.
Celtic Christians were also intensely aware of the spiritual dimension of life and did not deny the possibility of the supernatural as many do today. Modern Christians who follow the Celtic Christian path are equally convinced that the supernatural dimension of our lives is just as real as that which can be observed and explained by science. To the Celtic Christians, angels are definitely real and miracles can and do happen. The church badly needs a much great awareness of this part of creation.
At the very centre of this sense of awareness of the supernatural was God’s Holy Spirit. Often as Christians we picture the Holy Spirit as a dove, a thoroughly Biblical image taken from Jesus’ baptism Celtic Christians have another image of the Holy Spirit, as a Wild Goose. The wild goose reveals a spirit which is passionate, noisy, and courageous. This symbol reminds us that God’s spirit cannot be tamed or contained.
Celtic Christianity, both in its historical form and revived twenty first century expressions, very much focussed on community. This is something that is perhaps gaining a new sense of importance in the minds of many people following the Covid-19 lockdowns. We have spent so long separated from others that we are appreciating again the value of community. When talking to church members prior to Sabbatical I got the overwhelming impression that it wasn’t just worshipping together in church that they missed; it was the fellowship over tea and coffee, the mid-week coffee mornings, craft groups and exercise classes and the Bible Study and Fellowship groups. Yes, we all live in a community, whether that be a hamlet, village, town or city, a community we should be serving as individuals and as churches, but at its best each church is also a mutually supportive community of people growing together in the love of Christ.
Many Celtic Christians lived in monastic or semi-monastic communities, like that at Whitby headed by Mother Hilda; and followed a way or rule of life. The modern expression of this is dispersed monastic communities like the Northumbria Community, the Iona Community (centred on Iona) and the Community of Aiden & Hilda (with strong connections to Lindisfarne). The UK Methodist Church has recently recognised the value of a way of life. Members of the Methodist Diaconal Order have followed one for many years, but recently there has been encouragement for all Methodists to follow a way of life.In the meantime I hope that the congregations I am leaving in July can reflect on how at least some of what I am writing can be of benefit to them, whilst I reflect how I can take all this forward on the path God is leading me on.