David W. KLING, A History of Christian Conversion. New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2020. pp. 836. $150.00 hb. ISBN 9780195320923. Reviewed by Kathleen BORRES, Retired from Saint Vincent Seminary, Latrobe, PA 15650.
A History of Christian Conversion is a monumental work in size and scope, some of which has appeared elsewhere (see the copyright page and/or the preface). Authored by a man whose work always impresses this reader, David W. Kling notes, both in his introduction and conclusion, that Christian conversion is a multifaceted phenomenon and no one aspect of life dictates the results of any given conversion. As he writes in his introduction, “conversion is not just about one thing or the result of a single cause but involves myriad factors working in conjunction with each other” (20). In his conclusion, he writes, “this book has set out to demonstrate the empirical complexity of the conversion phenomenon, contending there is no unitary model of conversion, no single, easily demonstrable process that accounts for why people convert to Christianity . . . .” (661).
Kling does not make these statements without having carefully supported his remarks throughout the book. He demonstrates through research and careful analysis the actual, multifaceted reality of Christian conversion, discussing personal, social, cultural, and political causes for conversion, individually and societally. He identifies for his readers both internal and external forms of Christian conversion; that is, the inner awakenings and searches for the divine, subjectively speaking, and the outward forces, shows, and expressions of conversion across a wide range of circumstances, compulsory or otherwise. He does so in twenty-four chapters and a conclusion, covering the following periods and/or geographies: The Roman World (Part 1), Medieval Europe (Part 2), Early Modern Europe (Part 3), The Americas (Part 4), China (Part 5), India (Part 6), and Africa (Part 7).
More specifically, though merely a sample of the whole, in Chapter 3, The Western Imperial Church (312-500), Kling writes about the influence of monks on the spreading of the Christian message and the support these monks received from political and ecclesial leaders; more precisely, “the critical role of cultural exchanges that involved rulers, monks, and an ecclesiastical hierarchy” (99). In Chapter 7, Conversion by Coercion: Jews and Pagans (400-1500), he discusses the challenges in converting Jews “who possessed a fully articulated theology and religious structures to maintain their beliefs” (172). Converting pagans proved to be easier. Kling writes about the means used to displace paganism, “though [Christianity] did not eliminate it” (173) and the adaptation of newly converted pagans to the Christian way of life. Overtime, they “conformed to the rhythms of Christian life . . . and became increasingly open to another kind of conversion – one no longer imposed on them but a freely embraced, interiorized conversion” (173).
In Chapter 8, Interior Conversion: Monks, Mendicants, and Mystics (1050-1500), Kling takes a close look at interior conversion “within the context of monastic calling or the monastic life itself” (174). Those who joined a monastic order “were said to have ‘converted’” (174), though their conversion did not end upon their entry into the community; rather, “it became a way of life whereby the monk took upon himself ‘the sweet yoke of conversion’” (174). Following this study, in Chapter 9, Protestants and Continental Reformers (1517-1600), Kling examines the lives, conversions, and works of such pivotal reformers as Martin Luther, John Calvin, and Menno Simons. Their works he writes are occasional, meaning “they wrote in contexts reflecting current political and religious conflicts” (205). He explores the conversion experiences and understandings of such important figures as Ignatius of Loyola and Teresa of Avila in the chapter that follows (Chapter 10, European Catholicism [1500-1700]). Both Ignatius and Teresa wrote autobiographies and other works that shed light on their experiences and understandings of the meaning and purpose of conversion. For Ignatius, “the goal of Ignatian spirituality was not retreat to the monastery but engagement in the world” (238). For Teresa, conversion meant she was “the recipient of mystical favors and convent reformer” (241). While she had battled with the world for over two decades as a professed nun, either ignoring what she witnessed in her own life and community, or being troubled by the same, in the end she chose friendship with God over friendship with the world. “At last, she turned the corner” (243), as she realized that friendship with God was at the very heart of conversion and that she must conform not to the ways of her community as lived then but to a way “attuned to her understanding of the Christian ideal” (243). Kling also discusses the conversion of the laity “beyond the saints” in Chapter 10; that is, the “moves, countermoves and theologies of conversion” (245). Confessional hostility increased between Protestants and Catholics during this period and new attempts at converting people via the proclaimed Word became pronounced, as did various missionary efforts and a renewed appreciation for “the sacredness of conscience.”
Kling notes in Chapter 12, The Rise of Evangelicalism (1675-1750), “a general efflorescence of ‘religion of the heart’ movements beginning in seventeenth-century Europe . . . . It is not enough to affirm correct doctrine or to adhere to strict moral standards or to defer to ecclesiastical superiors; the inner life must be changed, one must take personal responsibility for spiritual growth, and the evidence of conversion must be manifest in works of social improvement” (289). Reflective of this movement is the rise of “autobiographical conversion narratives” in the eighteenth-century. Kling notes the emergence of “a new understanding of the self” (321). There is “the sense of individuation . . . the giving voice to the experience of God’s work in the soul, and, indeed, of the validity of human experience as proof positive of this divine work” (321).
In the latter half of the books, Parts 4-7, Kling addresses conversion in The Americas (chapters 13-16), China (chapters 17-19), India (chapters 20-21), and Africa (chapters 22-24) in the same careful manner as he did in the first half of the book. Though merely a sample of the whole, in addressing the Americas, he explores the challenges and opportunities, the strategies and “awakenings,” the expectation for societal reconstruction, the “evangelical exodus,” conversion to Rome, Canterbury, and Constantinople, Pentecostal conversions, and liberation theology. As for China, Kling writes of conversion strategies, including “accommodation,” impediments to conversion and the attractions for it, the onset of Communism and its impact on Christian conversion, and the question “Is There a Case for Foreign Missions?” or has Christian missionary efforts “been reduced to little more than benevolent social causes” (491).
One of the many topics in Kling’s chapter on India is that of conversion among the “upper-caste” (Chapter 20) and “lower-caste” (Chapter 21). Concerning the upper-caste Hindu converts, “the personal results were often destabilizing and disruptive: the ostracism of family and friends, the loss of traditional community support, and being suspected of identifying with the foreign imperialist” (547-48). Concerning conversion among the so-called lower-caste, Kling addresses some reasons why those in the lower-caste of society would even seek conversion or be open to it. “It was the outcasts themselves, not the missionaries, who took the first steps in the conversion process. . . . To be sure, the decision to convert would have never presented itself had not foreign missionaries appeared in the first place” (576). Why would they turn to Christianity? “Because they sensed something to be gained. . . . [B]ecause they find . . . something that meets a variety of needs – personal, communal, spiritual, existential, physical, pragmatic, or political. . . .” (576). Of course, not all people within India’s so-called lower-caste converted to Christianity. The majority of the people of India remained faithful to their religion of birth according to Kling.
Finally, in the introductory pages of Part 7, Kling draws his readers’ attention to “the historical relationship between Christian missions and the colonial state in Africa [which] is complex and contradictory, ambiguous and controversial, at once complicit and antagonistic” (582). Kling covers far more than I could write about in this last part; however, as is true of the other parts of this book, he covers a lot of ground, including the changing landscape of the religion in Africa, how “in the last 100 years, Christian growth has challenged Islam’s predominance” (586). Moreover, “over the past one hundred years, Christianity has experienced a profound shift in its geographical center of gravity. . . . [The] gravitational center . . . shifted to the Global South, including Latin America, Asia, and Africa” (587).
Altogether, The History of Christian Conversion is an impressive work. I commend Kling for his efforts at pulling together rich, variegated material related to Christian conversion, his openness to the subject of Christian conversion, and his willingness to consider the dynamic nature of Christian conversion as an ongoing reality realized in and through various and often messy historical contexts. While some people may be put off by the very subject of conversion, seeing it as an outdated expectation, “a false consciousness or as an intrusive violation of self-determination or as bad taste in a world ever open to individual choice or as no longer a theological imperative” (669), Kling prefers not to throw out the baby with the bathwater. While conversion efforts and experiences may be less than ideal, there is something of value in the accounting of Christian conversion experiences across time and globe and in accounting for the consistent reality and phenomenon of Christian conversion itself. Whether these experiences of conversion have deep roots or are surface occurrences only, the Christian message and phenomenon of conversion echoes down through the ages. It is unlike any other phenomenological experience, however, and it defies temporal categorization and containment, which is why I acknowledge with appreciation Kling’s admittance that his book is “a work of history and narrative . . . [and, as such,] wields theoretical and methodological approaches more lightly than do sociological and anthropological studies that employ explicit theoretical frameworks” (20).
Kling’s qualifier in the last quote is appropriate, given what I believe to be the very nature of Christian conversion as a divinely inspired hope and phenomenon at the heart of the Gospel message itself, effectuated in and through historical context. To diminish the subject of conversion in the Gospel message in any way would be problematic, as would the claim that historical, sociological or anthropological studies can exhaust the meaning of Christian conversion. As Kling notes in his conclusion,
This last point is essential. While The History of Christian Conversion is an extensive work on Christian conversion, the meaning of Christian conversion needs on-going study. This is an essential point that Kling himself makes. Of course, students and professionals interested in Christian conversion should consult Kling’s work in their studies, as it offers insightful stories and commentaries on Christian conversion in many different contexts. The extensive endnotes are also worth mentioning, especially as it pertains to further research on the phenomenon of Christian conversion. Given the scope of the work and the possibilities it arouses, it would be wonderful to find Kling’s book not only on the bookshelves in theological and religious studies libraries but also in the offices of teachers and students of Christian conversion alike.