My wedding ceremony was a strange brew. One half represented my churchmanship: ornate “smells and bells”, a careful liturgy, and an aspiration to look and sound ancient. The other half represented the bride’s: hands in the air, free-flowing intercessory prayer, and spontaneous cries of “Amen!” from the congregation.
Of course, there were also the non-christians, awkwardly in the middle, unsure of what to make of it. The old stuff was probably interesting for them as spectators, but surely much too mythological — all those priests wandering about in special garb. But the new stuff, while in an up-to-date idiom, probably came across as too enthusiastic — too at odds with that British social antipathy for emotional display. Were these not two mismatched expressions of Christian faith?
But if the “Quiet Revival” announced by the Bible Society is anything to go by, my wedding guests better get used to it. Their April report heralded increased UK churchgoing across the board — self-reported monthly attendance raised from 8 per cent to 12 per cent in the past six years — and especially so for the 18-24 bracket, whose figures have quadrupled. But, when it comes to denominations (as in, which particular church these new spiritual questers go to), the report noted that this ecclesiastical surge is being particularly cashed out as more bums-on-pews in Roman Catholic and Pentecostal services.
Catholicism and Pentecostalism are arguably the most au fait with the supernatural element of Christianity
These two church types now have a share of the youth market which outperforms the once uncontested state protestantism of the Church of England. This could signal a strange future for an institution that, for centuries, has seen itself as the default means by which a citizen is baptised, confirmed, married, and buried.
The duo making gains seem, initially, to be polarised alternatives. Roman Catholicism — after all, isn’t that all about hierarchy, clear-cut doctrinal pronouncements, and tradition? Isn’t Pentecostalism more egalitarian, spontaneous, and all about hearing what the Spirit is saying in the here and now? Some critics will suggest they are simply the two communities most likely to be buoyed by immigration.
But speaking personally, I know there is something more organic that could explain their mutual growth. Not only are they more compatible than first meets the eye, but their increased convergence is likely to be Christianity’s immediate future, particularly as the centre of mass shifts further abroad.
Catholicism and Pentecostalism are arguably the most au fait with the supernatural element of Christianity. For Catholics, the idea of sacred places, objects, and rituals that allow a person to seek God’s healing is a norm — one only has to go to Lourdes to see this. For Pentecostals, divine intervention can be more readily sought within the context of “ministry time” — the sessions of mutual prayer that happen at the front as the main service winds down. But it is not out of the ordinary for them to seek out sites where known “revivals” have taken place; even touching the stones of buildings “anointed” by the Spirit’s presence.
Both are very bodily. A Catholic kneels, bows, makes the sign of the cross, lights candles, and even kisses objects, as a sign of a spiritual orientation. Similarly, a Pentecostal feels a tight connection between the internal action of the Spirit and their outward gestures — they lift hands, make ecstatic noises, even prostrate themselves during worship. What is underlined by both is that the worship occurring in the physical congregation expresses a worship that is going on eternally. Church is to be a glimpse of eternity or, as the final book of the New Testament has it, “a door standing open in heaven” (Revelation 4:1).
They are also more institutionally entwined than one might think. Pentecostalism proper began at the start of the twentieth-century, in Los Angeles, where a group of believers proclaimed that the miraculous gifts available to Jesus’ first followers had now been dramatically redistributed in anticipation of the Lord’s imminent return. Whatever one makes of their emphasis on a decisive experience of the Holy Spirit (the “essential, biblical evidence” of which is the gift of angelic tongues), it has turned out to be wildly adaptable. Spread by a booming devotional book and music scene, worshipers in different settings became united in an interdenominational Pentecostal ethos by listening to the same worship tracks, or reading bestsellers like The Heavenly Man.
This kind of cross-pollination has led to the Catholic Charismatic Renewal, a movement which claims some 120 million worldwide practitioners, and one of the most successful instances of a historic church being energised by the newbie Pentecostal movement. The last three Popes have each been very doting to this increasingly large sector of Catholic faithful by promoting its leaders to high office: the personal Preacher to the Papal Household for the last three pontificates has been Cardinal Cantalamessa, a leading figure of the charismatic movement.
The next Pope can’t afford to change step: Pentecostalism grows. Some more zealous estimates suggest it does so at a rate of 35,000 converts a day, and in the Catholic context, it is filling stadiums (Wembley in particular, as a Catholic youth event called “Flame” managed this March). In a bigger picture of religious decline in the UK, where less than half of the population now consider themselves Christian, these Pentecostal-inflected movements can now set the agenda.
That said, this isn’t just about chasing bums-on-pews. There is something about the openness to the miraculous, transcendent, and thoroughly weird that makes Catholicism and Pentecostalism good bedfellows. Their jointly increased cache among the young is no paradox. It’s just what happens when young people genuinely seek something strange — something transformative. It’s no wonder they’ve alighted on an old pairing that, together, straddles Christianity’s breadth: on the one hand, the Incarnational. Seeing God’s human face, here and now. The kingdom on earth. On the other, Pentecost. Visions and prophecy. The world to come. It’s a match made in heaven.
