Faiths Lost and Found: Understanding Apostasy, by Martyn Percy and Charles Foster

Compelling narratives from people who have moved or are still moving from a recognised form of Christianity, though the sample of contributors is quite select

Faiths Lost and Found: Understanding Apostasy
By Martyn Percy and Charles Foster
Darton, Longman and Todd
ISBN: 978-1915412324
Reviewed by Terry Young

I can never remember what went through my mind when I clicked cheerfully through the list that Paul, the editor, circulates from time to time, so it is a pleasant surprise when someone from a media department sends me a book to review. My interest here was probably piqued because someone very close to me is trying out a spot of apostasy. However, although this book is enlightening, it's not enlightening in that particular way.

The most compelling part of this book for me is the set of 10 narratives written in the first person by people who have moved or are still moving from a recognised form of Christianity. Bracketing these stories are an introduction at the start and a conclusion at the, well, conclusion, both written by Martyn and Charles.

Their central assertion was articulated clearly and concisely by Lionel Bart: ‘fings ain't what they used to be.’ The self-confessed apostates in this collection are not being burnt at the stake, and where they are excommunicated, it is usually by family or members of their old set rather than full-blown exile. The distinctions of yesteryear that marked the apostate from the orthodox are more subtle than they were. That said, the text is soaked in sadness and shot with anger. Some witnesses express a sense of peace as they look around now, and some are battling still.

For the most part Martyn and Charles leave the invited contributors to tell their story their way, creating an intriguing core to the book. These are smart people who express themselves well. Most start in childhood describing their schooling, their first awakening to faith and to longing and their stories flow and flower from there.

On the whole, evangelicals take a cut-and-pasting, while the Anglican Church emerges as having a place for everyone. The chief complaint against rigid theologies is the unimaginative way they are applied and their tendency to bring out the worst in authoritarian leadership, factors that lead inevitably to clashes with those who do not fit. And I can buy that: there are still too many leaders who see a challenge behind every question and a threat behind every challenge.

Would an average surfer around The Baptist Times website want to read this book? I'm not sure, because I'm not average in any cohort, so I don't know what most readers would want. There is a strong axis, some might even say polemic, around gender that will influence many people's decision.

It may be worth reflecting, should you decide to read, that the sample of contributors is quite select. These are mainly, perhaps exclusively, middle and upper middle class white people who have been educated at good universities in Australia, the UK, and the US. They are all thoughtful and very bright. There are no ex-brickies who were cold-shouldered in their first curacy or Nigerian pastors who were discreetly referred to a church five miles away and who lost their faith in consequence. This is a fairly monochromatic snapshot of western Churches in the late 20th and early 21st centuries taken with a low f-stop and narrow field of focus.

If, like me, you find yourself sprawled mainly across the conservative end of the spectrum with limbs resting on more radical benches (part Rees-Mogg, part contortionist), that focus is uncomfortable. You will glimpse friends or pieces of your past as you read and realise afresh that Evangelicals have a huge task ahead of them. Although some of the villains are almost cartoonishly extreme, you don't have to think too hard to recall your encounters with them in one guise or another. People are still being shut down and frozen out.

We must remember, too, that other people's experiences of church over the past 50 years have included more gracious encounters and sense of community. Millions have come to Church in that time and are strangely happy there. However, even in the most loving of environments some of the issues raised here go to the heart of belief and are likely to prove contentious for years to come.

In very different ways, some more and some much less obvious, I too feel an outsider and can identify with this cohort. However, I recognise in myself a perverse pleasure in being the outsider, so I'm not always convinced that these people would be content even if they felt they fully belonged. There is a subversive streak to Christianity that isn’t satisfied by going mainstream. It's always fun to fulminate against the status quo – and I’ve done my share – but I think we must acknowledge at times that our role in life is to see things from the outside. However, that's a minor quibble.

Another quibble is that I struggle with the academic structure of the front and back end. I'm not sure it needs any academic glue to hold its central message together but, if it did, I’d want to see this purposive sample classified against a taxonomy based on the models of apostasy presented. However, I'm pretty sure that won't worry most readers.

So… to read or not to read? If you can’t see why anyone would want to leave your church: absolutely yes! If you can’t see why anyone would want to join it: perhaps best not.

Enjoy…
 

Terry Young is a missionary kid who read science and engineering. After a PhD in lasers, he worked in R&D before becoming a professor, when he taught project management, information systems and e-business, while leading research in healthcare.

He set up Datchet Consulting to have fun with both faith and work and worshipped at Baptist churches in Slough for 19 years before moving to the New Forest