DANCING IN THE AFTERNOON OF CHRISTIANITY

My daughter is an amazing dancer. One of the true joys and highlights of my life is watching her dance. Her grace, power, and presence on stage take my breath away every time. That being said, as any parent of a performer will know, the path to those shining three minutes on stage is paved with endless hours of rehearsals, tech runs, and dress rehearsals, mostly spent in dimmed theatres, echoing corridors, and draughty studios.

If you’ve seen me at these events, you may have noticed I often have a book open in my lap while other dancers are on stage. It’s not out of disrespect. I am always fully present when it’s my daughter’s turn. But I make use of the long waits by reading. I choose not to be on my phone. Over the recent holiday dance circuit, instead of reaching for something lightweight and forgettable (reading airport thrillers or breezy beach romances), I opened up The Afternoon of Christianity by Tomáš Halík. It was anything but forgettable.

This book is no easy read, nor is it meant to be. Halík, a Czech priest and academic who lived through Soviet oppression and the rebuilding of post-Communist Europe, offers a bold and deeply contemplative vision of Christianity's next chapter. He argues that we are entering the “afternoon” of the faith. This is a time of maturity, reflection, and transformation. The morning of certainty and institutional power is fading. The afternoon calls for deeper humility, courageous questioning, and a rediscovery of the heart of the Gospel: love, mercy, and mystery.

Halík suggests that faith is not something to be clung to with rigid certainty. It is something to be lived into with courage and vulnerability. He challenges believers to find God not in triumphal declarations, but in quiet presence. He urges us to look in the gaps between doubt and hope, in the ache for meaning, and in authentic relationship with others. It is, in many ways, a book about second naiveté. This is the rediscovery of spiritual depth not by returning to old forms, but by walking forward with openness and trust.

So what does this mean for our school community? Halík’s words are a reminder that true formation, in faith, in learning, and in character, is not about having all the answers. It is about cultivating the capacity to sit with questions, to listen, and to be open. As a Catholic school, our mission is not to mass-produce certainties. It is to create space for students to encounter wonder, to develop compassion, and to discover that their questions about the world, themselves, and God are not problems to solve, but pathways to truth.

And maybe that brings me back to the dance studio. To waiting in the quiet, watching carefully, and holding space for beauty to emerge, even if just for three minutes. Just as dancers rehearse and refine, our students are in the process of becoming. We may only see a brief glimpse of the full performance, but every moment matters. Every stumble, every stretch, every stillness. May we be a school that holds that space with love, patience, and purpose.

Mr Casimir Douglas

Sunday 23rd August, 2025