Goshen College professor John Roth tells the story of early Anabaptists in Europe, who were pushed to the margins of society and geography because they refused to conform to the state church, yet still managed to draw people to their fold. When the new converts were asked why they had joined the Anabaptists – a group viewed by broader society as radicals and heretics and riff-raff – they replied that in times of crisis, it was the Anabaptists who showed up at their doors to help.
I think of this story sometimes as I walk along the streets of Bristol, in southwestern England. I came here through Franconia Conference’s partnership with the Anabaptist Network of Ireland and Britain, to do research for an organization called Workshop.
Workshop is just that: a series of weekend workshops offered in cities across England which look at a variety of issues in Christianity today—spiritual disciplines, ethics, apologetics, mission. Workshop was started in 1983 and has no denominational affiliation. It doesn’t have official stances on many issues. Instead, it seeks to help people understand a broad range of perspectives and creates space for discussion.
People come to Workshop for a variety of reasons. Some come because they haven’t found much space in their churches for questioning or imagination; others want to go to seminary and use Workshop as a way to explore further theological study; and some end up at Workshop because despite how fed up they are with the church, they still want to believe.
Part of my task—the part that’s not hard to describe but nearly impossible to measure—is to be present, to build relationships, and to affirm that Anabaptist-minded people in the United Kingdom and Mennonites in the United States have something significant to offer each other.
Anabaptists in Ireland and the United Kingdom have consciously chosen to identify with the values of early Anabaptists. They didn’t grow up or even become Christians with an understanding of Christianity as a non-violent faith, but I’ve found wonderful community here. Workshop students ask thoughtful questions about their faith; a family with four small children holds weekly Shabbat meals; people work in victim-offender reconciliation and re-entry programs for people leaving prison; my hosts have graciously opened their home to me for the summer.
The other part of my task is to help Noel Moules, the head of Workshop, think about how to move from a solely classroom-based curriculum, to a variety of formats that may include books, DVDs, or podcasts, that can be used by groups outside of the U.K. In the process, I’m learning a lot about publishing and researching technology and media. Eventually I’ll help Workshop write a grant proposal to fund the project.
There’s a sort of romance to being here in the country that birthed Jane Austen and my favorite Potters, Beatrix and Harry. But there’s reality, too: only about 35 percent of British people believe in God or a divine being; only five percent attend church. (In the U.S., these numbers are over 90 percent and 30 percent, respectively.) I know that membership and attendance numbers are dropping in the United States, too, and sometimes I wonder if our churches will follow this same trajectory.
As Stuart Murray Williams points out, North Africa was once predominately Christian and Turkey and Ireland hold the ruins of magnificent cathedrals and monasteries. I wonder if I will one day feel as alien in my own country as I do here; if one day I will have to learn to sing an old song in a new land. Will Christianity eventually seem as antiquated and irrational as it does to many English people now?
Almost every week it seems there is a column in The Guardian, a U.K. national newspaper, from a philosopher or thinker whose work I admire, writing that God is a myth that is just no longer necessary in this day and age. It seems to me that most of these men (somehow, they’re always men) are simply choosing a different sort of faith and indoctrination. My challenge is to seek to understand them anyway. Hopefully one day, should they need it, I’ll be able to knock on their door, casserole in hand.
Lora Steiner is a seminary student at Drew University Theological School. She was part of the Franconia Conference staff from 2007-08. Her work in the UK is supported by Spring Mount congregation, Philadelphia Praise Center and Ripple Allentown as a way of learning and investing in missional equipping and development with global partners. Lora returns to the U.S. for her final semester at Drew Theological School this fall.
The opinions expressed in articles posted on Mosaic’s website are those of the author and may not reflect the official policy of Mosaic Conference. Mosaic is a large conference, crossing ethnicities, geographies, generations, theologies, and politics. Each person can only speak for themselves; no one can represent “the conference.” May God give us the grace to hear what the Spirit is speaking to us through people with whom we disagree and the humility and courage to love one another even when those disagreements can’t be bridged.