Why, if as a so-called "religious" I'm a potential paw-paw, should this nevertheless be a useful book? One reason is that its articles provide a good overview of how one small section of the Church of England regards itself. Another is that it unintentionally witnesses to why the religious life in the Church of England appears to be on its last legs.

Ironically, the best contribution to this book is by the only person who is not a religious - Dr Peta Dunstan, teacher of modern church history at Cambridge University. Her article reviews the characteristics of communities which sprang up in Britain between 1845 and 1914.

1. In a time when the Church at large was immersed in what seems to us to have been a sentimentally pious Christianity, communities were formed to engage in social action.

2. Many of the new communities tried to live like medieval monks and nuns. They wore monastic habits, followed elaborate rules of life, and inhabited Gothic buildings. Those who did this most thoroughly gained most publicity and the support of generous benefactors.

3. The early founders of religious communities saw themselves as counter-cultural. Their lifestyle was not approved of by the establishment. They tackled social ills of the day when the latter were being minimised by both Church and State.

... whatever is deeply ingrained as the basis of "success" and growth in one era is hard to dislodge in the next, when perhaps a different approach may be more appropriate. This is especially so when the change involves a fundamental shift in identity.

And so the religious communities in Britain have resisted change in all but the non-essentials. Dress has changed, rules have modified and the focus of work diverted. But the fundamentals have remained the same. Their age-profile has risen - and older people don't change that easily. One might expect, though, that a dominant focus of a book like this might nevertheless be on renewal - on what is being tried out, what lines of thought are developing , and what might be the adventures awaiting those who dare to advance into the future.

Alas! With one or two exceptions the vision is myopic, the explorations tentative, and the insights unimaginative. Frequent allusions are made to the Holy Spirit as that which will somehow stimulate and guide necessary change. This is, to put it bluntly, no more than a convenient cop-out.

A brief quotation from Sister Hilary ohp illustrates the character of the bulk of this book. Having described what amount to purely cosmetic changes in the religious life, she concludes:

Are we ready to be changed even more radically than we were after Vatican II? (sic) Change can only be in one direction - towards community life which bears the same stamp as the first Christian community described in the Acts of the Apostles 2.42-47.

She may be right. But the phenomenon of dying religious communities in Britain indicates to me that only by being wide open to unseen possibilities will we ever move into new life. Looking backwards in a prescriptive way is to embrace not life but death. I am reminded of an ssm Chapter I once attended. Someone spent ten minutes describing how the youth of today were not interested in the religious life. What he seemed incapable of doing was to urgently enquire into what about us is not attractive to them.

The assertion which drew from me the paw-paw comment was an article titled Developing Religious Identity. Alistair ssf writes at one point:

The theological has priority over all other discourses, in the power of the Holy Spirit ... They are not up to discussion in the same way as psychological constructs; they may be further explored and reinterpreted but, in some essential way, they are non-negotiable.

The Society of St Francis is more successful than most in attracting new, younger members - so they must be doing something right. Or are they? I suspect that some will always be attracted to modern manifestations of medieval monasticism.

Of all the contributors bar Peta Dunstan, Sister Gillian Ruth csmv has produced the most searching look at the present situation. She likens the present state of the Anglican religious life to John of the Cross' "dark night of the soul". Our experience is the

... darkness and sense of impasse [which is] expressed in the vicious circle of declining numbers and failure of the way of life to appeal in a pluralist, post-modern society.

Many people today are used to repentance, to constant re-orientation towards life's demands. They therefore tend to focus primarily on the present and the future. The Church, it seems to me, tends to look to the past to justify any changes. Casting around for an example of how the religious life contrasts with the life of ordinary people I was reminded of a concept which has grown over the last three decades - that of the learning organisation. 

It derives from the work of Peter Senge in the 1980s. A learning organisation is oriented towards permanent change in response to its environment. Its structures and processes are based upon the premise that unless it constantly modifies itself in relation to external events, it is likely to die. To use a Christian metaphor, it serves and is in turn enriched by others and should therefore take their needs as a springboard. 

As I perceive the present situation, many religious communities refuse to acknowledge the needs of those they serve. Instead, they appear to seek refuge in the counsel that they, like the Church, will always survive. They may be correct in doing so. But what if they're wrong?

Possible ways ahead for the religious life might be revealed by comparing it to a learning organisation:

I can imagine at this point squeals of protest from my fellow religious. "It's not like this," they are no doubt protesting. Perhaps I'm misguided. But perhaps they might stop and wonder why, if they are doing what's needed, if their communities are indeed learning organisations, things aren't going too well.

The religious of whom this book is so clearly representative may have failed to notice, I would suggest, that today's society is radically unlike every other of the past. The difference is not in the details, but in the essence. Looking to the past for answers to the future is increasingly degrading and distorting Christian responses to the world of the 21st century. An entire way of life which, as this book witnesses, is buried deep in the past, will not and cannot evolve into the future as long as it grips its heritage so tightly.