New monastic community, church and mission: A faithful fit?

by Matt Richards

Introduction

Recent decades have seen significant and sustained interest across the United Kingdom in a concept commonly known as “new monasticism”. This ancient-yet-modern embodiment of Christian community is something I have long felt called to explore, and am beginning to do so in practice here in north-west Cumbria.

Within the wider church, however, it remains a relatively unknown entity – a fringe concern that is treated with varying degrees of curiosity or suspicion. I believe this to be at least in part due to a theological and relational disconnect between mainstream church and new monasticism. In other words, people struggle to understand if and how the two might properly relate to one another.

This felt like a subject worth exploring, which I gladly undertook for my undergraduate dissertation with CMS. The following essay is drawn from that work, and examines the relationship between new monasticism and church through the lens of mission. My hope is to demonstrate a relationship that is not only theologically sound but also, by God’s grace, wonderfully fruitful.

Church

In his classic work, Models of the Church, Catholic theologian Avery Dulles offers an array of ecclesiological typologies, each emphasising different aspects of the nature of the church. At one level, he introduces us to ‘The Church as Mystical Communion’ – an image of the universal body of Christ, “with particular stress on the mystical and invisible communion that binds together all those who are enlivened by the grace of Christ”.¹ This communion in Christ transcends cultural and historical barriers, making the past instructive to our present endeavours, as is very much the case with new monastic community.

Dulles recognises however that “the Church of Christ could not perform its mission without some stable organizational features”² – leading him to introduce ‘The Church as Institution’. Such structural manifestations of the church are a necessary feature of Christ’s pilgrim people in the present day. I myself am held within the Anglican tradition, but new monasticism tends to sit more lightly towards institutional structures. In this sense it addresses itself well to a contemporary world with “little interest in theological siloes or ecclesiastical brand loyalty”.³

Between the poles of church as institution and church as mystery, Dulles offers ‘The Church as Sacrament’, whereby “The Church becomes Church insofar as the grace of Christ, operative within it, achieves historical tangibility through the actions of the Church”.⁴ In other words, this is the existence of church at a local level, manifesting the grace of God within the warp and weft of daily community life. The further models of church as ‘Herald’ and ‘Servant’ complete this understanding of the church’s call to proclaim and enact the good news of Jesus in the lives of local communities. It is at this local level that I am particularly drawn to the practice of new monastic community.

Recent developments in ecclesiology have fostered an appreciation of the rich variety of ways in which the church can be locally expressed, with the language of a “mixed ecology” challenging the assumed ubiquity of the congregational parish system. Rather than seeing this as a novel development, however, I would suggest it is instead the recovery of the church’s dual charism deeply rooted in history.

Alongside the ‘normal’ structures of the local, rooted church, there have always existed other elements of church no less ecclesial in nature but also somehow differentiated. An understanding of this dual nature of the church throughout its history is described by Ralph Winter through the terms “modality” and “sodality”.⁵ The former term derives from the root word ‘mode’, referring to the customary way things are done. “One might say it is the default position, or prevailing fashion or custom.”⁶ Sodality, meanwhile, comes from the Latin root, sodalis, which can be translated as ‘comrade’. “The first is open to everybody, and is represented by the parish church or the congregation. The second, however, is open only for those with a special vocation and who are prepared to make special vows.”⁷ Instances of sodality can be found in the early church example of Paul’s apostolic missionary band, or more recently in the international missionary agencies which proliferated throughout the 19th century. Yet, perhaps the most consistent example throughout history is that of the monastic movement.

Monasticism has a long and distinguished tradition within the life of the church, although it was largely rejected by Protestants after the Reformation, added summarily to the pile of Catholic traditions to be jettisoned.⁸ Such a move was not without reason, for as Lings notes, the monastic life “became seen as an achievement of the elite that the laity could not emulate. By allowing specialists, it justified low standards for the majority.”⁹ This distinction is exemplified by the words of Pope Urban II in 1092, who described the religious as the “strong ones”, stating that “from the beginning the Church has always offered two types of life to her children: one to aid the insufficiency of the weak, the other to bring to perfection the goodness of the strong.”¹⁰ Such a division certainly invites critique, for did Christ not call all to follow him, without preference or distinction?

Dutch theologian Stephan Paas considers this dilemma in his astute work Pilgrims and Priests, where he questions, as did the Reformers, the ecclesiological implications of this “hierarchical complementarity”. While noting the challenges it raises, he ultimately concludes, “There are, in short, people whose Christianity is the sun in their universe around which everything else turns, and people for whom their Christianity is one of the planets in a universe that orbits another centre. And I think that this – admittedly typological – difference has always existed.”¹¹ Despite the understandable distaste of the Reformers for the monastic life, it perhaps expresses something universally intrinsic to the human expression of life and faith.

Lings also reaches this conclusion, offering the analogy, “Just as Formula One racing has led to more efficient engines and better brakes and tyres in everyday cars, so monastic life was intended to be a way to raise the quality of the whole church.”¹² This reminds us that rather than seeking to excuse a laxity within the modal church, monasticism at its best will act as a source of inspiration and encouragement to all. So too in our time, new monasticism should not seek to replace or denigrate the wider body of Christ, but rather to serve faithfully within it.

Mission

Any concept of church is incomplete without reference to mission. Not without reason is Emil Brunner so often quoted as declaring that “the Church exists by mission, just as a fire exists by burning”.¹³ Steve Bevans and Roger Schroeder explore this in Constants in Context, writing that “the church of Christ does not so much have a mission as the mission of Christ has a church”.¹⁴ They ground their reasoning in an examination of the first account we have of the life of the church – the Acts of the Apostles.

This, they argue, demonstrates that it is only as the first followers of Jesus respond to the Spirit’s call to continue his mission (and not prior to it) that they are formed into the church. Thus the book of Acts “shows that the origin of the church is intimately connected to its consciousness of the mission that it saw before it”, providing “a strong biblical basis for the dictum that the church is ‘missionary by its very nature’”.¹⁵ This scriptural foundation also reminds us that mission is not owned in any way by the church, but rather flows from the life of God. Mission is intrinsic to who God is, and therefore becomes our primary calling “because to be Christian is to become part of God’s life and God’s vision for the world”.¹⁶ When we speak, therefore, of new monastic community expressing the mission of the church, we are not describing an optional extra, but rather something indispensable to the church’s identity.

We turn now to consider the place of mission within monasticism throughout history. This witness is surely instructive to the possibilities of new monasticism, as it likewise seeks to embody the mission of the church today. In his foundational work, Transforming Mission, David Bosch considers the missional impact of monasticism within medieval Europe, writing, “At first glance, the monastic movement appears to be a most unlikely agent of mission. The communities were certainly not founded as launching pads for mission.”¹⁷ Bosch is not alone here, with many seeing the intention of the early monastics as a flight from the ‘sinful world’ into the desserts of solitude and silence. “Monasticism’s one object,” continues Bosch, “was to live in purity and die in peace.”¹⁸

Despite this apparent juxtaposition, the resulting missional impact of monasticism within Western Europe can hardly be overstated. To begin with, there is the missional effect of monasticism on the church itself, about which Bosch enthuses greatly, arguing that throughout Europe’s ‘dark ages’ monasticism “saved that medieval church from acquiescence, petrifaction, and a loss of its vision and truly revolutionary character.”¹⁹

The outworking of this monastic witness was arguably most pronounced in the British Isles, where monastic influence far preceded the establishment of diocesan and parish structures. Ian Bradley, a leading voice on the history of the early British church, writes, “For Christians living in the British Isles between the fifth and eleventh centuries, the monastery rather than the parish church was the primary focus for worship, pastoral care and religious instruction.”²⁰ This was particularly suited to the tribal culture of the time, yet even beyond the establishment of the modal church in Britain, monasticism retained a central and influential place. “In England, alone among the major European nations, many of the cathedrals continued until the Reformation to be Benedictine houses,” notes Rowan Williams, suggesting that “the centrality of the apostolic and monastic vision in the life of the Church could find expression in setting community life visibly at the centre of a diocese”.²¹

A second facet of the monastic mission was its witness of countercultural presence within the surrounding milieu. Rather than concerning themselves purely with ‘spiritual matters’, monastic life grew to embrace all spheres of life as holy, with the rule of Benedict placing particular emphasis on the sanctity of manual labour.²² Each monastery was therefore “a vast complex of buildings, churches, workshops, stores, and almshouses – a hive of activity for the benefit of the entire surrounding community”.²³ The monastic life was ordered pointedly and publicly about the person of Jesus Christ, an everyday witness to a radically different way of life. It willingly embraced the harsh rigours of labour usually reserved for the lowest in society, doing so with a “a spirituality of the long haul”²⁴ that shrugged off barbarian invasions and inspired others through its persevering tenacity. “Even without knowing it and without intending it, their conduct was missionary through and through,” concludes Bosch. “Small wonder then that, increasingly, their implicitly missionary dimension began to spill over into explicit missionary efforts.”²⁵

This brings us to the final element of monastic missional witness, that which was explicitly and intentionally evangelistic. Here Bosch notes, “It was Gregory the Great, himself a Benedictine monk, who first conceived the idea of a planned ‘foreign mission’, when he sent the monk Augustine from the heart of Benedictine monasticism in Italy to the kingdom of Kent on the British isles to initiate a missionary venture among the pagan English.”²⁶ Far from being an exception, this missional enterprise was the norm in Britain, where evangelisation in “the Romano-Celtic and Anglo-Saxon eras occurred through the missional endeavours of monks, nuns and friars, and not primarily through bishops, priests and parishes”.²⁷ Thus developed within several streams of British monastic life the apostolic conviction “that one should not remain in the monastery for one’s own salvation, but save and serve others”.²⁸

New monastic community

Having now examined the concepts of church and mission, we turn finally to consider new monasticism itself. As a movement, it can be traced to the middle of the 20th century, with Dietrich Bonhoeffer foreseeing its advent in 1940: “The restoration of the Church must surely come from a new kind of monasticism, which will have only one thing in common with the old, a life lived without compromise according to the Sermon on the Mount in the following of Jesus. I believe the time has come to gather people for this.”²⁹

As is often the case with new phenomena, there is a multiplicity of language currently being used to describe overlapping and evolving entities. None are without issue, as identified by Andy Freeman when he writes that “each time I hear of expressions of monasticism around the world I realise there is not much that is ‘new’ about what we do”.³⁰ Simpson concurs, suggesting that “the discovery of monasticism among protestants is more a new discovery than a new monasticism”.³¹ There is indeed a risk that the phrase might suggest a degree of originality which is unwise to claim. Personally, however, I find the explicit mention of ‘monasticism’ provides a meaningful anchor in the tradition of what has gone before, while recognising the ‘newness’ and difference of contemporary expression.

Indeed, as Paas notes, “innovation that burns all the bridges towards the old and traditional will not be recognised as innovation. Renewal is always the renewal of something; it is not creation out of nothing.”³² By this, he cautions us not to jump clean off the pier of Christian heritage, convinced that our new expression will float with a life of its own. Writing in a similar vein, Steve Aisthorpe suggests, “Rewilding the Church begins by drawing from the deep wells of Christian identity.”³³ This provides a valuable counterculture in a time when an idealised future is often our overriding frame of reference.

The possibilities for applying the fruits of the monastic witness to new contexts are widespread indeed, with writers such as Simon Reed exploring how monastic practices might enrich mainstream ecclesial life.³⁴ Others have sought to apply the Rule of St Benedict to business management,³⁵ while Rowan Williams has examined how the Benedictine way might positively influence contemporary European culture at large.³⁶ Yet, rather than applying monastic principles to a particular field of life, I would understand new monasticism as being a further iteration – or a new embodiment – of the monastic tradition. Ray Simpson concisely describes it as “a fresh expression of committed Christianity for the post-modern age.”³⁷

While new monasticism does not seek to replace that which has gone before, it is nonetheless enacting what Paul Bradbury describes as travelling “home by another route”. Recognising the huge cultural shifts of the past century, Bradbury writes convincingly of our need to look “for a way home in a cultural landscape that has lost the familiar paths and landmarks of the past”.³⁸ While therefore recognising the essential place of traditional monasticism to the understanding and practice of new monastic community, it is also important to acknowledge the places where old and new part company. Indeed, we should not expect it to look the same, for as Ray Simpson writes: “True monasticism is never an end – that would be to make it an idol – it is a means to a transformation, a fullness of humanness in Christ, and must only be followed in as much as it serves this purpose.”³⁹

New monasticism’s change of approach is arguably exemplified by its focus on communal living, rather than a life of solitude. As Andy Freeman admits, “there isn’t too much ‘mono’ about who we are and what we do. Prayer and contemplation, for me at least, sit alongside community and mission and so we look more like Franciscan Friars than monks.”⁴⁰ It is less that prayer and isolation are entirely shunned, but rather that a different and more flexible balance is sought in their practice. The Northumbria Community, for example, uses the phrase “alone and together” to describe their communal charism, an approach which more closely approximates the Orthodox monastic tradition than the Roman Catholic model of differentiated ‘active’ and ‘contemplative’ orders.⁴¹

This move typifies the kind of flexibility that new monasticism is seeking to embody. Simpson argues that contemporary Christians “are wary of structures that are imposed from the centre; they do not want to be trapped in a new legalism; they don’t want to be shut off from ordinary people”.⁴² Where traditional monasticism is typically defined by strict adherence to an ascetic rule of life, the adaptable nature of new monasticism is arguably more suited to the complex fluidity of postmodern culture.

This raises the difficult question, however, of how far one can depart from the well-trodden paths before what is left ceases to be authentically monastic, or indeed authentically Christian? “When is a spiritual community truly a New Monastic Community?” postulates Ian Mobsby. He offers the suggestion that “there needs to be some form of shared rhythm or rule of life; just having values is not enough. These rules then need to define some form of shared practices.”⁴³ I would see this comment as being representative of wider practice, and while each community will vary, they will nonetheless aspire towards some embodiment of such values-driven, communally held practices.

It is important to recognise, however, that many communities will still be on that journey of aspiration, with an outward expression far less developed than the monastic ways we are used to. After all, the most ancient communities were themselves once new, and we would do well to remember that “those early God-seekers of the fifth, sixth and seventh centuries followed no written Rules – there were none”.⁴⁴ The final word on new monastic community is yet far from being written, such is the emergent nature of this missional movement within the church.

Conclusion

I hope to have shown throughout this essay that new monastic community is something very much related – and relevant – to the church today. It may well exist at the fringes, yet so too did the Desert Fathers in the early days of the monasticism. Rowan Williams, exploring their relevance for today, indeed reminds us that “the church is always renewed from the edges rather than the centre”.⁴⁵ If new monasticism is to play a faithful part in this renewal, it will need both the rich inheritance of the monastic witness, and a bold embrace of an unknown future.

In doing so, I believe new monastic community to be a living, local, beautiful sacrament of the church’s call to mission. How this happens in practice was the central focus of my dissertation research, which I could share another time! Personally, it has led me to explore what this might look like in my own life, leaving the realm of the theoretical and diving into the adventure of discovering this calling in Christ.

About the author

Matt Richards is an ordained pioneer minister in Cumbria, where he finds joy seeking God amid the quiet beauty of the fells, the chaotic delight of family hospitality and the constant adventure of community life.

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Notes

1. Avery Dulles, Models of the Church (New York: Random House, 2002), 43. ↩︎
2. Ibid, 27. ↩︎
3. Steve Aisthorpe, Rewilding the Church (Edinburgh: St Andrew Press, 2020), 150. ↩︎
4. Dulles, 61. ↩︎
5. Ralph Winter, The two structures of God’s redemptive mission (The American Society of Missiology, 1974). ↩︎
6. George Lings,Why Modality and Sodality thinking is vital to understand future church (Church Army), 1. ↩︎
7. Steve Bevans and Roger Schroeder, Constants in Context: A Theology of Mission for Today (New York: Orbis Books, 2015), 67. ↩︎
8. See Craig Gardiner, Melodies of a New Monasticism (London: SCM Press, 2018), 97. ↩︎
9. George Lings, Seven Sacred Spaces (Abingdon: The Bible Reading Fellowship, 2020), 123. ↩︎
10. Gerald Arbuckle, Refounding the Church (London: Geoffrey Chapman, 1993), 135. ↩︎
11. Stephan Paas, Pilgrims and Priests: Christian Mission in a Post-Christian Society (London: SCM Press, 2019), 27–28. ↩︎
12. Lings, 123. ↩︎
13. Quoted in Bevans and Schroeder, 8. ↩︎
14. Ibid, 8. ↩︎
15. Ibid, 30. ↩︎
16. Ibid, 303. ↩︎
17. David Bosch, Transforming Mission (New York: Orbis, 2010), 231. ↩︎
18. Ibid. ↩︎
19. ^[19] Ibid, 230. ↩︎
20. Ian Bradley, Colonies of Heaven: Celtic Models for Today’s Church (London: Darton, Longman and Todd, 2000), 2. ↩︎
21. Rowan Williams, The Way of St Benedict (London: Bloomsbury Publishing PLC, 2020), 45. ↩︎
22. Ibid, 68. ↩︎
23. Bosch, 232. ↩︎
24. Ibid, 233. ↩︎
25. Ibid. ↩︎
26. Bosch, 235. ↩︎
27. Ian Mobsby, “The Importance of New Monasticism as a Model for Building Ecclesial Communities out of Contextual Mission”, in New Monasticism as Fresh Expression of Church, edited by Graham Cray, Ian Mobsby and Aaron Kennedy (London: Canterbury Press, 2010), 12–18, 12. ↩︎
28. Bosch, 235. ↩︎
29. Ray Simpson, High Street Monasteries: Fresh expressions of committed Christianity (Stowmarket: Kevin Mayhew, 2009), 11. ↩︎
30. Andy Freeman, New Monasticism, Mission and Young People, in New Monasticism as Fresh Expression of Church, 50–56, 50. ↩︎
31. Simpson, 41. ↩︎
32. Paas, 44. ↩︎
33. Aisthorpe, 27. ↩︎
34. Simon Reed, Creating Community: Ancient ways for modern churches (Abingdon: BRF, 2013). ↩︎
35. Kit Dollard, Anthony Marett-Crosby and Abbot Timothy Wright, Doing Business with Benedict (London: Continuum, 2002). ↩︎
36. Williams, 66–83. ↩︎
37. Simpson, 9. ↩︎
38. Paul Bradbury, Home by another route: Reimagining today’s church (Abingdon: The Bible Reading Fellowship, 2019), 85. ↩︎
39. Simpson, 8. ↩︎
40. Freeman, 50. ↩︎
41. Abbot Stuart Burns, Reflections on New Monasticism, in New Monasticism as Fresh Expression of Church, 140–145, 143. ↩︎
42. Simpson, 57. ↩︎
43. Mobsby, 16. ↩︎
44. Mother Mary Clare, quoted by Philip D. Roderick in Connected Solitude: Reimagining the Skete, in New Monasticism as Fresh Expression of Church, 102–119, 109. ↩︎
45. Rowan Williams, Silence and Honey Cakes: The wisdom of the desert (Oxford: Lion Hudson, 2004), 109. ↩︎