Article
Belief
Creed
Weirdness
6 min read

Revival – really?

Are we moving beyond the secular scepticism of religion?

Abigail is a journalist and editor specialising in religious affairs and the arts. 

A cross held aloft is illumminated by a shaft of light that also reveals hands raised in priase.
Jacob Bentzinger on Unsplash.

Whisper it if you will, but an increasing number of observers are wondering if we are creeping towards some kind of Christian revival. High-profile public figures such as former atheist author Ayaan Hirsi Ali, novelist Paul Kingsnorth, comedian Russell Brand and storyteller Martin Shaw have converted. Articles and podcasts from secular writers and thinkers extolling Christianity’s influence on Western culture, the societal benefits of faith, or a renewed appreciation of the sacred, are becoming a more common sight than those tub-thumping for atheism. 

Among these thinkers is historian Tom Holland, who has argued that Western values, including secularism, socialism, feminism and human rights have their roots in a “Christian seedbed”. Some secular female writers are finding in the sexual revolution much to regret: Mary Harrington, author of Feminism against Progress, and writer Louise Perry, who penned The Case Against The Sexual Revolution, are opposed to casual sex and in favour of marriage. 

Then there’s the Canadian academic and YouTube hit Jordan Peterson, currently on a speaking tour titled, “We who wrestle with God” and offering Bible-based life lessons to his hungry, mainly male, hearers. Even the arch-atheist Richard Dawkins said in a radio interview this Easter that he considers himself a cultural Christian and “I sort of feel at home in the Christian ethos.”  

A term has been coined for someone close to Christianity but just outside it, such as Holland: “Christian-adjacent”. The broadcaster Justin Brierley has devoted a book to this apparent renewed interest, The Surprising Rebirth of Belief in God. In it he argues the New Atheism that fed off the horror of the religious extremism behind 9/11 is “a largely spent force” that has splintered into factions. (Sunday Assembly, the gathering for non-religious people, has seen its income plummet from £267,161 in 2016 to just £28,120 in 2022. Its leaders were approached for comment.)  

What does all this amount to? Are we moving beyond the secular scepticism of religion? Does anyone want to return to the judgemental, Anglo-centric Christianity of a previous age? 

I wish to be somebody who goes, ‘But look, come with me, see this, see that. Does that speak to you?’ The whole of my writing is to help people get away from preconceptions.” 

Iain McGilchrist

The author and psychiatrist Iain McGilchrist says of a possible religious revival: “I feel that there is [one], and I feel that there will be. And I think it's important.” Already, he says, “It's much easier to talk about religion and one's religious beliefs … than it would have been 20 years ago [and] a lot of people say that.” Some young people who are not from a religious background have surprised him by finding their way to religion. 

People he knows who have turned to Christianity in mid-life have moved “to the Catholic Church, but most of them to the Orthodox Church, because they see … genuine valid, uninterrupted tradition of the divine and the sacred, of worship of it, of the sense of wonder, the sense of relative humility, not triumphant exaltation, and the sense of a shared oneness that is encaptured in these ancient rituals.” 

McGilchrist believes the route of fulfilment “is oneness with nature, with the Divine and with one another,” and that rediscovering a connection to the Sacred (he refers to the Sacred or Divine rather than religion) would address other pressing issues such as the “poisoning of the oceans”, due to “a proper understanding of our position in the cosmos, not as the exploiter, but as the caretaker.” 

Of his own views, he says: “I genuinely am not sure how to understand what it means to be a Christian really, but I suspect that I am one.” He stresses that he doesn’t want anyone to be put off by their preconceptions of what that might mean. “I wish to be somebody who goes, ‘But look, come with me, see this, see that. Does that speak to you?’ The whole of my writing is to help people get away from preconceptions.” 

“There is an intellectual revival, if you like, because the complacent secularism, which culminated in people like Richard Dawkins, is obviously broke.” 

Andrew Brown

Mark Vernon, a psychotherapist, author and former Church of England priest, also perceives a shift in the conversation around religion, and a new sense of enquiry that did not exist 20 years ago. He believes “a mystical Christianity” would be needed to reach the many people who describe themselves as “spiritual but not religious”.  

Author of Spiritual Intelligence in Seven Steps, Vernon enjoys the silence of a Buddhist meeting or being out in nature on pilgrimage to holy places, “feeling different energies, different pulses, different rhythms … Being in a place where you just feel there's a different thing going on here, that can be healing. I think a lot of mental health is due to just people being trapped in very narrow worldviews.”  

Dr Vernon, whose faith journey has included atheism, follows what he calls a “commodious” Christianity – “my perspective on the universal story, which I think is ultimately beyond any one expression of it – and focuses on the “Christ [that] lives within me”, in contrast to “more socially driven” or “conversion-driven” Western Christianity.  

For Abby Day, Professor of Race, Faith and Culture at Goldsmiths, University of London, any talk of religious revival is “wishful thinking” but like Vernon she believes that if anything were to speak to the “spiritual but not religious” it would be “within them, or maybe within nature” and “non-institutional”. 

Professor Day is wary of the interest in Christianity from the populist right, as seen in the European elections and US Evangelicals’ support of Trump. They “claim Christianity, but what they're claiming is a national identity, and so we're seeing Christianity be weaponised” to deliver a conservative agenda, she says.  

Day, author of Why Baby Boomers Turned from Religion, takes issue with some of Holland’s arguments, saying: “The Churches have not shown themselves to be exemplary models of equality or human rights.” 

Veteran religious affairs journalist Andrew Brown, co-author of That Was The Church That Was: How the Church of England lost the English people, is less hostile. He says: “There is an intellectual revival, if you like, because the complacent secularism, which culminated in people like Richard Dawkins, is obviously broke.” But he adds: “Most of the stuff that's interesting and new is coming from people who are either Christians or Christian-adjacent.” But, he adds, “It takes a long time for the ideas of the intelligentsia to filter down … “If there is to be anything like [a revival], it has to start locally, and far below the radar of news.” So, for example, what impact has 14 years of austerity had that have led to millions of people attending food banks and warm spaces in churches? (According to 2023 data from Savanta and the National Churches Trust 5 per cent of UK adults visited a church last year to access a food bank (equivalent to around 3.4 million people) and 4 per cent (2.7 million) for a warm space.) “That has to be doing something, but I don’t know what,” he laughs, adding: “There really isn’t enough decent religion reporting because journalism is in crisis.”  

That puts established religion in good company. But the Churches the Boomers rejected may have become humbler during their exile, and alternatives are available that offer different emphases. Vernon notes that the Orthodoxy that has attracted Kingsnorth and Shaw – Vernon’s “favourite convert of this revival” – is comfortable with other faiths and is more about participation through liturgy than converting to safeguard your immortal soul. And one attraction of the silence Vernon enjoys is that it doesn’t give glib answers, including to the profound questions around meaning, purpose and identity that beset nation, Church and individuals alike.  

Putin’s violent ambitions could yet drive people to prayer. For now, at least, the more thinkers publicly take Christianity seriously and rediscover its wonder and mystery, the fairer hearing its stories, values, social benefits and cultural legacy will receive in the rowdy market-place of ideas, offering – at the very least – the cradle agnostic a more informed choice.  

Explainer
Creed
Weirdness
5 min read

The year of the mystics

Ready to be turned upside down?

Belle is the staff writer at Seen & Unseen and co-host of its Re-enchanting podcast.

An abstact image hints at twisting figure in front of a St Andrews Cross.
Jr Korpa on Unsplash.

Last year, a journalist called me, completely out of the blue. We’d never met before, but she had a couple of questions she wanted answering about Christianity and, somehow, she found me.  

Firstly, she wanted to know what the heck was going on with Christianity at the moment – why can’t Nick Cave stop talking about his Wild God? What was up with Ayaan Hirsi Ali’s infamous U-Turn? Why, despite decline in church attendance and institutional failures, are more and more people finding themselves falling into the Christian story? I wish I had then, what I have now: Graham Tomlin’s round-up of 2024 as the year Christianity (for better or for worse) made somewhat of a comeback. Because, she’s right, it really has been quite something.  

But, leaving Graham to answer her first question, this article is an attempt to answer her second, far more unexpected, one: where are all the Christian mystics?  

I got the sense that this second question wasn’t being asked for the benefit of a piece she was writing, but for the sake of her own mystically inclined heart. I feel like what she was really asking was something akin to - is there a place within the Christian story for people who are friends with mystery and oddness, who want the unexplainable and the ecstatic, who consider ‘strange’ and ‘spiritual’ to be two sides of the same coin? Is there a way in for those who don’t want the weirdness of it all to be underplayed? Is there space within Christianity for one to be turned up-side-down by God’s ‘heart melting nearness’?    

Well, in short, yes. Completely and utterly. Yes to all of it.  

Where are the mystics, I hear you ask? It would be my pleasure to introduce you to a few of my favourites. 

First up to the plate, it’s Hildegard of Bingen (1098-1179).  

 A master of music, medicine and mysticism – Hildegard of Bingen is one of the most interesting women in German history. As a Benedictine Abess, she dedicated much of her time to mystical theology and philosophy, largely informed by her visionary experiences of God. She reluctantly recorded twenty-six of these visions in a piece of work entitled Sci Vias Domini (which translates to mean ‘Knowing the Ways of the Lord’). She also composed songs, again largely inspired by her visions of God, and even a musical mortality play entitled Ordo Virtutum.  

Her Christian mysticism bled into her understanding of science and medicine; she emphasises the deep interconnectedness of all living things - having originated from one creator - and therefore sees medicine as just as spiritual of a pursuit as theology. According to Hildegard, all is sacred, all is connected, and so the health of the natural world matters. It both informs and reflects our own health.  

Clare of Assisi (1194-1253) is celebrated as an Italian saint and founder of the Order of Poor Ladies.  

Born into a wealthy family, Clare shunned comfort, luxury, and an arranged advantageous marriage in favour of a life devoted to intimate and vibrant prayer.  She soon gathered a community around her, and their obvious disdain for luxury of any kind is what caught the world’s attention and earned them the title of ‘Poor Ladies’.  

Her life of prayer had dramatic consequences and, ultimately, saved the lives of those she loved. While their Order was under attack, Clare’s prayers caused a violent storm to sweep across the town and scatter the terrified attackers.  

Next up is a particularly strange (in the best way) character, Catherine of Sienna (1357-1380).   

Catherine had religious visions from the age of six or seven, and took them incredibly seriously, even then. As she grew older, her parents urged her to marry the widower of her sister, who had tragically died in childbirth. In response, Catherine cut off her hair and joined the Sisters of Penance of St. Dominic. That’s quite the outright rejection, isn’t it?  

After three years of isolation (during which she is said to have prayed, contemplated, and developed a rich understanding of Jesus’ death and its implications), she became quite the famous figure, feeling sure that God had commanded her to publicly speak of what he had told and shown her.  

Now for a personal favourite, Theresa of Avila (1515-1583).  

I read her prayers and poems endlessly. And, can you blame me? Just listen to this:  

Let nothing disturb you, 
let nothing frighten you, 
all things will pass away. 
God never changes; 
patience obtains all things, 
whoever has God lacks nothing. 
God alone suffices. 

The gentleness of her words are like a balm to a world that can so often sting us. And, indeed, stung Theresa, as she suffered with severe ill-health and persecution her entire life. Nevertheless, she developed a passion for mental prayer and is said to have heard God’s audible voice, seen visions, and even felt her body levitate.  She became infamous for her poetry, her mystic theology and her unusual independence as a medieval woman.  

These women, these mystics, are separated from us by time and context. And yet, to many, they are close companions. They are still aiding those on a quest to enter into Christianity through the ‘mystic’ door.  They are still reminding us that we oughtn’t be fooled by the pesky left-side of our brains, the part that wants us to believe that we understand all that’s worth understanding. They are still challenging us with the knowledge that all that we see is not all that there is.  

You want mysticism? Christianity can down-right give you mysticism.  

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