Voices of the Faithful

Here in Scotland, where I sit as I write, looking out on grey street facades centuries old, we prepare for a referendum which could rend an even older political union. At the heart of the issue is a matter of identity, which is characteristically drawn against the English, from whom Scots have the opportunity to separate themselves this fall and thus forge their own path. And in this context, Donald Smith, writer and director of the Scottish Storytelling Centre, has added faith to the debate. Late last year, Smith published Freedom and Faith: A Question of Scottish Identity, launching it with a discussion on how these topics merged in Scotland’s future.

Religion is often touted as the cultural element that distinguishes Scots within the union. But Smith unhooks this religious distinction from institutions—and he means the Church of Scotland specifically. Presbyterianism’s gift to Scotland is precisely a ground-up process of governance. This, he suggests, has informed Scots, whether they ticked the “Church of Scotland” box on the last census or not. Unstated but implied was that such a declaration would be presumptive bordering on ridiculous: as he writes, “the idea that … the Scottish Government would pay special attention to the Church’s utterings seemed to hark back to previous centuries.”

The past only has value, then, to the extent that it has shaped the identity of Scots now charged with making a decision for the future. This future could very well include a constitution that adopts a rigorously secular stance and delimits religious involvement. This returns us to the question of Canada. Can we lose the visible presence of religion and still retain the moral guidance of religion’s teachings, the “spiritual resonance” Smith describes? Critics have noted the irony of Quebec’s secular charter, for example, even as the crucifix hangs above the National Assembly. Cabinet minister Bernard Drainville defends the cross as indicative of Quebec’s heritage, though he pitches a post-Christian vision for the province.

However, a post-secular vision may be more pertinent. Secularization is tied to Europe’s Enlightenment, fostered in the public sphere. This is a metaphorical space, manifest in coffee shops and newspapers, where the informed public could discuss ideas and, when necessary, counter acts of government. Reason is its guiding rule. Religion might motivate people in their private lives, but when they enter the public sphere, they have to articulate their concerns in secular, rational language.

This idea has been refined over the years, but recently, one of its staunchest supporters has taken a chisel to the original structure. Previously, German sociologist Jürgen Habermas insisted on the need for secular “equivalents” for religious justifications, but he has decided this may be an unjust requirement. Religious people are equal citizens, too, and have the right to speak of what matters to them in the way that it matters. The post-secular society has a requirement to hear religious concerns and take them seriously, though it is not bound to act on these concerns.

I don’t imagine Canadians are clamouring to hear the views of the Presbyterian Church in Canada any more than Scots want advice on how to vote from the Church of Scotland. I recall with weariness hearing overtures at General Assembly which ended with the moderator agreeing to write a letter to the prime minister. What compels me more is the decision we take to help people abroad through Presbyterian World Service and Development and at home through Presbyterians Sharing. I want to know about congregations making decisions within the communities they serve to offer child-and-parent drop-ins, office-oriented weekday Bible studies, and Alcoholics Anonymous meetings.

Nothing prevents us as a denomination from asking the prime minister to do something, but we tell of our priorities best by our actions. Some of us act by working in the public sphere—even in public office—fully motivated by our faith. We don’t take our status as an institutional church as any kind of privilege but instead act as faithful individuals, working to bring our priorities into fruition.

At his Edinburgh book launch, Smith suggested that a constitutionally secular Scottish government might shed any privileged role for the Church of Scotland. Yet he believes that the character of the Scottish identity means the government would be open to working in partnership with churches on issues of importance. There is some evidence to support this, though Smith is canny enough to recognize that those with other priorities are also in partnership with the government. Sometimes, as with the presence of nuclear submarines on Scotland’s west coast, the church’s voice is heard but not followed. But they are welcome to speak. What we must ensure in Canada—whose heritage, as the crucifix in the National Assembly declares, is no less informed by Christianity—is that the voices of the faithful remain welcome in public discussions about society’s future.

About Michael Munnik

Michael Munnik is studying in Edinburgh, Scotland.