LITURGIES OF THE WILD: A transformative journey into story, spirit and self-discovery
By Martin Shaw
Penguin. 256 pages. £22
ISBN 978 1 846 048 913
Whether or not there’s truly a “quiet revival”, something seems to be stirring. One recent prominent convert to Christianity is renowned storyteller Martin Shaw, who came to faith after a vision of Christ out on Dartmoor.
Like fellow-convert and environmentalist Paul Kingsnorth, Shaw has been drawn into Eastern Orthodoxy, which seems to be attracting young men especially. It’s worth seeking to understand this phenomenon, to see both what we might critique and what we might learn.
Liturgies of the Wild: The Myths that Make Us is Shaw’s first major work since his conversion. It speaks to those in our culture hungry for roots, and points them to the story of Christ that Lewis and Tolkien called the “true myth”.
While his storytelling-led approach leaves doctrinal differences largely under the surface, discernment is needed. On his conversion, Shaw says “I became a Christian. Or more likely, I realised I was a Christian. Just not a very good one. A little out of focus.” As evangelicals, we might agree: some important themes are out of focus. While Shaw affirms the necessity of repentance, he talks of guilt in terms of “paralysing emotions” more than as an objective moral state in need of forgiveness at the cross (p.127).
That said, I believe Shaw’s vision also addresses some of our blind spots. Shaw offers a shimmering view of nature as God-enchanted, wondering: “Does God live everywhere, speak to us everywhere, or only in the Bible? Could I feel Him talking to me in birdsong, or the roar of the sea, even a dream? Is that even allowed, that kind of free-range Christianity?” (pp.10-11).
There is an important truth to affirm – the world is the theatre of God’s glory. Scripture gives us the right lenses to interpret the world as declaring God’s goodness and beauty. An appreciation of nature and of myth is healthy, provided it remains moored in God’s Word.
Further, at its best, Shaw’s love of story points us to the power of the gospel story. Bible-believing churches can sometimes be in danger of flattening its power by “explaining the text” rather than proclaiming the living story of the risen Christ.
This book stirs in me the feeling Shaw describes at his baptism: “Hungry for a Christianity as huge as the forest, as magnificent as the stars that swirled overhead, as endless as the River Dart I heard rushing past” (pp.17-18). The question it leaves me with is this: how can we hold together story and doctrine, myth and truth, wildness and clarity, to speak to those searching for meaning today, while keeping Christ-centred, Biblically grounded, and true to our evangelical distinctives?
Liturgies of the Wild is good but not tame. Read it with joy and adventurous discernment.
