Vulnerability in Early Christian Formation

I don’t remember how old I was at the time, but I was old enough to have become “evangelical” in my faith, with that fervour and energy that so often accompanies new religious encounter, the great adventure of life, the hope of being a heroine. But as I look back now at forty-five years old, I was young. I remember one shocking chapter from the women’s devotional I was reading, the only one that has remained with me from that book. It witnessed to radical contemporary women of faith, following Christ to the point of self-abandonment. This story was recounted by a missionary working in a foreign land, where on one occasion she and her sisters in Christ were repeatedly raped. But so consumed was she by Christ, she could only praise Him during this violation and terrifying abuse. Like the lives of the martyrs, hers was a faith so real, she experienced the triumph of Christ in this midst of this horror.

I cannot recall the name of this devotional, but it was certainly mainstream material for young Christian women. I remember, impressionable and naïve as I was, thinking that I needed to have this kind of faith. It is not that I think there is anything wrong with it per se. I want to have a faith that could stand whatever life may throw at it. It is frightening and humbling to think of the faith many persecuted Christians are witnessing to throughout the world, where their lives are in daily danger. But a more mature Genevieve certainly looks back and questions the healthiness of this messaging to immature believers. Maybe it is the inappropriateness of solid food being given to babies, when they still need infant milk, to draw on Saint Paul’s teaching in 1 Corinthians 3:2.

There are at least two other sisters in Christ that come to mind, who experienced, like me, an evangelical heady breathlessness, storming into situations which lacked boundaried care and protection, and consequently, left them battered, bruised and confused. It’s as if this type of Christian discipleship subliminally carried the message that being a warrior for Christ, going out to battle, would somehow guarantee your protection and victory, because Christ was ultimately victorious, after all.

The focus on the salvation project as being the focus of one’s life purpose perhaps eclipses a more wholesome and holistic approach to life, faith and witness.

By the time I started working for what was then KLICE (The Kirby Laing Institute for Christian Ethics), evangelicalism had become both the source of a living encounter with the Word that I cherished, but also the medium through which I experienced a disconnect between the evangelical task and whole-life flourishing; how did the two relate?

There are two areas that have helped me to cohere these themes in my own life; a positive doctrine of creation and catholic contemplative practice.

I believe it was Craig, when he first began his directorship of KLICE (I was working as Development Officer), who introduced me to a positive doctrine of creation. God created an intrinsically good world, and despite the Fall and its effects, God has never abandoned it or ceased to be reflected in its wonderful diversity. This is good news! A positive doctrine of creation is the starting point for a much more holistic approach to the “life in abundance” that Jesus refers to in John 10:10. It means that we can ask what is “excellent or praiseworthy” (Phil 4:8), in terms of best practice, without the need to “Christianise” the categories – “if it’s Christian, it must therefore be excellent and praiseworthy.” I was struck in Leanne Payne’s book The Healing Presence (1995), how she grouped together, as an evangelical Christian herself, saints, scholars and artists! But she did so because her theology apprehended the incarnational and sacramental reality of God in the world, which meant that, though not necessarily grasped in its fullness, scholars and artists can see truth and communicate it in profound and magnificent ways that speak to us. We might add, by little children and the unexpected encounter in the supermarket or in the park!

I always remember the line from Reverend Hale in Arthur Miller’s The Crucible: “Theology, sir, is a fortress; no crack in a fortress can be considered small.”

It is important in Christian formation that we are building on the right, safe and healthy, foundations.

Leanne Payne, as a therapist herself, pays the greatest attention in The Healing Presence to the effects on mind and soul of beliefs and practices that are not rooted in an incarnational understanding of life, which stop us from being able to look for Christ in the web of relationships we are part of in this world.

I don’t know when I began to more purposefully embrace contemplative practice in my faith life. I attended a Catholic secondary school, and I remember they had occasional days of reflection. Perhaps the most decisive encounter was in a silent, individually guided retreat I was invited on by a close friend, at St Beuno’s Jesuit Spirituality Centre in North Wales. I recall feeling that I had to attend everything, finding the silence deafening and ending up with an awful migraine! But I also recall my guide for the weekend telling me that in Ignatian spirituality, the evil spirit is seen to be like rushing water, compelling and driving, whereas the Holy Spirit is more like gentle drops of water falling. That image has stayed with me and is something to which I often return. I am very mission oriented and often feel the driving spirit (or the spirit of adrenaline!) pushing me on, when slowing down and listening is what is needed.

I try to do the daily meditation on the Jesuits’ Pray as You Go app, which is a relatively simple way for me to find a quieter, contemplative space amidst the busyness and chaos of family life. Sometimes, I do a prayer walk (also learnt from the app), where I become aware of God’s self-disclosure in my surroundings and in nature. Increasingly I am enjoying the quiet moments when they come my way, resisting the urge to fill them; how can I receive more of Christ unless I make room for him? Contemplative practice is a way of appreciating in daily living the doctrine of creation and the reality and wonder of the incarnation.

I wonder what being taught a healthy doctrine of creation and engaging in contemplative practice might have given that younger, headier Christian self? I hope it would have given me a more integrative understanding and experience of faith and life, but also helped me to have greater self-awareness, knowledge and compassion.

These are tools that may help the church to protect the “little ones” Jesus talks about so passionately in Matthew 18:6 and actually may be the best evangelical witness of them all.

Genevieve Wedgbury is a freelance writer and Professional Doctorate candidate at the Margaret Beaufort Institute of Theology, where she is researching a robust theology of body literacy and Christian spirituality. She enjoys running, writing and Russian-style ballet.

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