#4 How to walk like a Monk
On being a disciple and journeying with others
I have this friend called David Bowden.
To this day, people still think I was googling my own name, and just started stalking him. The unlikely pairing of British Dave Boden and American David Bowden began after a series of coincidences (or otherwise) that I will be forever grateful for. Over the years, we have forged a friendship, created a media ministry called Kleer Series, and made countless memories together.
One of our favourite things to do is introduce ourselves to strangers…
“Hi, I’m Dave Boden.”
“Hi, I’m David Bowden.”
It acts as an instant icebreaker.
I was once stopped at airport security on the way to visit David in Oklahoma. The Border Patrol Officer checked my passport and asked who I was going to visit.
I said David Bowden.
He looked at the name on my ID with a hint of confusion and asked me to repeat myself.
I said David Bowden.
Letting out a loud laugh, he handed me back my passport, ushered me through security, and muttered, “you couldn't make it up…”
An adventure 1000 years in the making
When David came over last October for a week’s holiday (sorry, vacation) and declared he wanted to go on an adventure, I knew instantly where I wanted to take him. I had heard stories about the spiritual heritage of Lindisfarne, more commonly known as Holy Island, and I was keen to experience the place for myself.
We chose to walk to the secret mysterious island via the famous Pilgrim’s Way, which is only accessible at low tide.
This route lets you travel in the footsteps of the saints, monks, and pilgrims, who have walked side-by-side with people for over a thousand years. The path is waymarked by large wooden poles that stick out of the sandy mudflats. There are lookout towers en route where you can climb up ladders, see for miles around, and show others the way to come.
The birdlife is spectacular and the landscape hauntingly beautiful. The sound of thousands of waterfowl flapping above your head is almost like hearing God applauding his own handiwork.
As David and I walked along, we were so engrossed in an in-depth spiritual conversation, that we ended up knee deep in a pool of tidal water… The irony was we had been talking about baptism! There we were, two pilgrims in a puddle, soaked to the bone, caked in mud and sand, but living the dream of the monks.
Following in the footsteps of history
My motivation to visit Holy Island was partly to learn more about my new spiritual hero. St. Aidan came from the Irish monastery of Iona and established a community on Lindisfarne in 635 AD. A creative pioneer, he regularly sent monks to spread good news across the whole of England, preparing the way for our rich Christian heritage in Britain.
Their attitude to discipleship was fascinating to David and I. The Celtic monks would invite spiritually curious people to live among them without any expectation to meet religious criteria for being included. They modelled the benefits of following Jesus ‘up close and personal’ first and then gave an invitation to follow. This is what inspired the popular mantra belonging before you believe.
St. Aidan was a master at adapting the message of Jesus for the emerging context he found himself in. As one historical record notes:
“Aidan would walk from one village to another, politely conversing with the people he saw and slowly interesting them in Christianity…”1
He had an amazing skill not to water down his message, but break it down for his audience. It is said that Aidan offered people:
“...first the milk of gentle doctrine, to bring them by degrees, while nourishing them with the Divine Word, to the true understanding and practice of the more advanced precepts.”2
St. Aidan’s approach to discipleship was rooted in meeting people where they were at, not where he wished they would be.
This is still mind blowingly important for us today.
Learning to walk like a monk
There is a theory in education circles known as the curse of knowledge. This is when Teachers assume students already have the necessary background information to grasp what is being taught. When experts are unable to put themselves in the learners shoes they can’t decode their wisdom for others.
St. Aidan reminds us to be wary of the curse of knowledge in the church. So often we work under a set of assumptions that make it so much harder for others to begin their journey from scratch.
In this respect, it is like we are standing at the top of a lookout tower, inviting others to join us on a pilgrimage, but neglecting to provide a ladder.
We probably all know at least one person who wants to know more about faith but doesn't know where to start. A church service with unfamiliar language or customs, isn't always going to be their first port of call. As Founder of the Unstuck Group, Tony Morgan, says:
“Church is often a next step, but not always the first step.”3
So where does that journey begin? It might just start through a connection with you. Do we need to prioritise proximity over programmes again?
Maybe it's time we made ourselves more available for a side-by-side walk with others?
What if you let someone get up close and personal enough to see how you live as a disciple of Christ? It might get messy and muddy on your pilgrimage. But you might just point someone to Jesus.
My not-so-secret revelation from Holy Island is this… Discipleship starts with a simple approach:
“Help someone take a step towards Jesus from their starting point and not yours.”
Have you ever visited Holy Island? Let me know your experience in the comments.
The Lives of the Saints - Baring Gould
Ditto
Tony Morgan - The Unstuck Church Group
Oh Wow, Dave, I so love this, especially as it's about one of my favourite topics, 'Pilgrimage'! I did a similar walk with my walking friend Alie, in 2020, starting at Alnwick and finishing at Holy Island (that was part of St Cuthbert's Way). We plan to go again, as COVID restrictions meant that all buildings on the island were closed. We too got stuck in mud, followed the way-markers, and attempted to climb one of the refuge towers. It was covered with barnacles, as I recall, and very sharp on the hands. The climb down was much worse!
Another reason I really connect with this piece is because it calls us to 'put the ladder up' for others to climb. In teaching we called it scaffolding, where we provided a framework, which would help 'join the dots' of students' patchy learning. Although I'd always been aware of it, between 2012-2017I became adept at not only providing the 'metal structure', but also placing the 'wooden planks' along the whole scaffolding, so the students could crawl painfully slowly along , what to them was a very precarious climb, to the next 'handhold'.
As a follower of Jesus, who is passionate about transferring those skills into discipleship terms, I want to thank you for drawing our attention to this vital process. There's so much I could say, but I think you get my excitement ! Well done Dave, and I love hearing about the adventures with your friend David Bowden.
Thanks Dave !