Last week Red C Research published the findings of WIN-Gallup’s ‘Global Index of Religions and Atheism’, suggesting that Ireland was abandoning religion faster than almost any other country. The papers weren’t slow to regurgitate claims that whereas 69pc of Irish people were religious in 2005, only 47pc were in 2011.
That’s not what the poll says, however. Contrary to Red C’s press release, the WIN-Gallup poll doesn’t find that Ireland is one of the least religious countries in the world; it finds that Ireland is one of the countries in which people are most reluctant to describe themselves as religious. This is a very different thing, not least as the word ‘religious’ means different things to different people.
This was made very clear to me a couple of years ago at an Anglican church in Manchester, where I used to go so I could learn how evangelical friends lived their faith on their own terms, rather than relying on how my fellow Catholics described them.
The curate spoke at length about how Christians shouldn’t be religious, because religious people are hypocrites. We’re called to love God, not to be religious, he said. Christianity, after all, isn’t a religion: it’s a relationship.
I agreed with him up to a point. It’s a cliché that Christianity is a relationship rather than a religion, but it’s only a cliché because it’s largely true; the very word ‘Christian’ suggests that.
Rather than meaning ‘follower of Christ’, it literally means someone who belongs to Christ as a member of his household. Romans 8:14-17 says that we’re brothers and sisters of Christ, God’s children rather than his slaves, and as 1 Corinthians 12:13 says, it’s baptism that adopts us into this family.
Talking about this in the pub later, some of the regular congregation said they felt that the curate’s core point was sound but that he’d expressed himself poorly. Religious people can be hypocritical, but ‘religion’ shouldn’t be dismissed as mere lip service.
Methodology
When discussing polls, it pays to look at the question and methodology. Ireland was one of the few countries in which this poll was conducted online; it’s difficult to see why Red C did this, as their website boasts of the accuracy of their telephone polling and warns that online polls are of questionable reliability in Ireland, where the over 55’s are inadequately represented in online panels and at least a third of adults lack internet access.
Red C's press release is adapted from WIN-Gallup's international press release, which conspicuously excludes Irish data from any tables showing how things have changed since 2005. Ireland, which Red C reports has experienced the second-largest decline in religiosity since 2005, is absent from the table of ‘ten countries experiencing notable decline in religiosity since 2005’, and from the two tables showing trends in religiosity and atheism in 39 countries surveyed in both waves.
It’s almost as though WIN-Gallup doesn’t regard the new data on Ireland as comparable with the 2005 data.
Red C's press release is adapted from WIN-Gallup's international press release, which conspicuously excludes Irish data from any tables showing how things have changed since 2005. Ireland, which Red C reports has experienced the second-largest decline in religiosity since 2005, is absent from the table of ‘ten countries experiencing notable decline in religiosity since 2005’, and from the two tables showing trends in religiosity and atheism in 39 countries surveyed in both waves.
It’s almost as though WIN-Gallup doesn’t regard the new data on Ireland as comparable with the 2005 data.
Allowing that the poll should be treated with caution, it’s hardly surprising that it found that the number of Irish claiming to be atheists seemingly has risen from 3pc to 10pc since 2005; the 2011 census figures and recent polls should have led us to expect as much.
I doubt this figure will rise much further without government interference. If graphs in the official census highlights are remotely accurate, those most likely to deny a religious affiliation in Ireland are aged between 25 and 29, and even then only about 9.5pc of those do so. Denial of religious affiliation seems to drop back to 8pc among younger adults.
Rather than rushing to embrace atheism, it seems Irish people are slipping into an ill-defined quasi-Catholicism, and it’s here that the question’s wording is all-important: “Irrespective of whether you attend a place of worship or not, would you say you are a religious person, not a religious person or a convinced atheist?”
The number of people willing to describe themselves as religious seems to have plummeted from 69pc to 47pc, whereas those rejecting atheism while saying they’re not religious seems to have risen from 25pc to 44pc.
It’s difficult to tell what exactly this means, not least because the survey question – which confuses religious practice with atheistic belief – explicitly allows people who attend places of worship to say they don’t consider themselves religious. Red C thus observes that globally, “Most of the shift is not drifting from their faith, but claiming to be ‘not religious’ while remaining within the faith.”
Judged purely on an Irish basis, this seems a fair judgement. The census found that 84pc of us still claim to be Catholic, even after the horrors of the Ryan and Murphy reports, but it’s clear that many of us have drifted from the teaching and precepts of the Church.
Only about a third of us attend Mass every week, according to this year’s ACP and Irish Times surveys, while the Irish Times poll seemingly found a widespread rejection of basic Christian doctrines. For example, 15pc of those who’d call themselves Catholics don’t regard Jesus as the son of God, and 62pc believe that the Eucharistic elements merely represent Christ’s body and blood.
Many who scorn atheism but wouldn’t call themselves religious would be among these; they’d probably consider themselves ‘spiritual’ rather than religious, or say that they have faith but disagree with organised religion. Others, though, would surely be ordinary Catholics, wary of boasting about their faith.
Connotations
The word ‘religious’ carries uncomfortable connotations for a lot of us. A priest friend of mine once admitted that he found it hard to like a lot of religious people. “Some of the coldest, hardest, most unforgiving people I’ve ever met,” he said, “have been some of the most religious.”
Outward Practice
‘Religious’, for him, clearly wasn’t a word to be crudely equated with ‘Catholic’ or ‘Christian’. It was, instead, something relating to outward practice rather than inward devotion; he’d found that people could be punctilious about their religious observance while being devoid of a spiritual inner life, or a simple love for other people.
That’s not to say our external practice and attitudes don’t matter; on the contrary, they play a vital role in expressing and supporting our inner life. As Pope Benedict pointed out last week with reference to St Dominic: “… to kneel, to stand before the Lord, to fix our gaze on the Crucifix, to pause and gather ourselves in silence, is not a secondary act, but helps to us to place ourselves, our whole person, in relation to God.”
Internal Realities
The problem, alas, is that too often our external and internal realities are at odds. Jesus made this unforgettably clear in his parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector, in directing us to fast, pray, and give alms in secret, and in condemning as pedantic and hypocritical the ostentatious religiosity of the Pharisees.
Familiar as we are with such admonitions, and increasingly suspicious of public displays of piety, it’s hardly surprising that for many of us the word ‘religious’ is a term we’ve become loath to apply to ourselves. Who wants to be seen as a ‘Holy Joe’, especially nowadays? Who dares to call themselves devout?
-- A version of this appeared in The Irish Catholic, 23 August 2012.
-- A version of this appeared in The Irish Catholic, 23 August 2012.
3 comments:
The presuppositions are all at odds. Inner and outer are interdependent. You can't have an inner without an outer, or an outer without an inner. Nor can you have inner and outer "realities that are at odds." The man who says to himself "thank God that I am not like that Pharisee" every time he reads the parable no doubt expresses himself outwardly with as perfect attunement to his inner disposition, even if he is unaware of it, as the so-called 'holy Joe" does. "By their fruits you will know them" said our Lord. And no doubt he could have added that it is only by their fruits that you, and they themselves, will know them.
"Some of the hardest, cruelest people I know have been religious." Well good. It is precisely religious that the hardest and cruelest must become if they are to have any hope of following our Lord. But it is those who secretly tell themselves that they are not actually like the Pharisee who are in greatest need of scrupulous adherence to elaborately expressive formal practice. For they are the ones who believe they are called upon to express themselves through themselves, whereas they are in fact called upon to express who they might be through the Church, Christ's Body. They are the ones who believe that they first possess their own spiritual life and only then determine how it will best be expressed, whereas the truth is they only come into possession of an actual 'inner" spiritual life once they put on Christ's Body given to them through the sacramental and liturgical expression of the Church.
You have everything back to front. That's why you get everything wrong. Jesus and Socrates weren't moderates. They were killed for their immoderation.
"‘Religious’, for him, clearly wasn’t a word to be crudely equated with ‘Catholic’ or ‘Christian’. It was, instead, something relating to outward practice rather than inward devotion; he’d found that people could be punctilious about their religious observance while being devoid of a spiritual inner life, or a simple love for other people. "
And how did he find that out, one wonders? Did he have special insight into the action of grace on the souls of individual men? Did he disagree with Augustine that "the good heart is hidden, the evil heart is hidden, in the good and evil heart alike there is an abyss, but they are open to God, from whom nothing is hidden"?
Perhaps this priest believed that not being devoid of a "spiritual inner life" is akin to possessing a discernible psychological disposition, such as being outgoing and sunny, or tolerant and reasonable, or being capable of displaying a "simple love for other people"? But if this is so then why would one need Christ to possess a spiritual inner life, for many pagans are so disposed?
Our Catholic faith teaches us that God chose to become incarnate so that through his objectively exterior being, and only through his objectively exterior being, all men could be brought into a saving relationship with the Father. Insofar as a man possesses an authentically Christian spiritual life, an authentically Christian inner life of grace, it is a life established, sustained and developed by the objective reality of Christ and his Church. In other words, it is the exterior reality that founds the interior; it is only through an exterior relationship of participation with, through and of the Church that one can possess an inner life. There is no "inward devotion" unless it is constituted by the outward expression of a member of the Church, Christ's body. There can be no Christian spirituality without Christian religious practice.
The heresy of interiority, the distinctly Protestant principle, as Hegel termed it, seeks to eliminate the sense of salvational uncertainty that dependence on the external induces by internalizing everything. The internalizing man brings God within reach, so that, like Luther, he can " grasp" him, and achieve an imagined indubitability, like DesCartes, the father of the Moderns. But we devout Catholics are taught to persevere in "punctilious" practice of the faith, and not to presume an easy familiarity or anything more than hope. Liberal Catholics upset us firstly because they do not understand us, but think they do, and secondly because they have become Protestant and lecture us as though we were the ones who fall short.
“That’s not to say our external practice and attitudes don’t matter; on the contrary, they play a vital role in expressing and supporting our inner life. As Pope Benedict pointed out last week with reference to St Dominic: “… to kneel, to stand before the Lord, to fix our gaze on the Crucifix, to pause and gather ourselves in silence, is not a secondary act, but helps to us to place ourselves, our whole person, in relation to God.”
One feels, though, that the words “not a secondary act” don’t actually register. When it comes to a polarity of act, the pairs external/internal, form/matter, active/passive, cause/effect, creative/evolutionary are analogous with respect to the opening relationship that must hold in a developing movement. Thus, it is not, to begin with, that the passive submission to external practice expresses and supports our inner life, rather, it is that the external practice expresses itself in our inner life; our inner life is what results when what is external expresses itself; our inner life is its expression. The movement begins externally, to call forth and evoke, in secret, an internal response that itself seeks to become external through participation with the reality that calls it into being. If our inner life is compared to uninformed matter, the external is that which gradually informs it, but in discrete, polarly alternating stages, where the matter for each stage is the resulting informed matter of the preceding stage, freely, passively offered up by us. Our freedom is always negatively expressed. It is always an acquiescence to truth, never an establishing of truth. And it is always a secret acquiescence to the external establishing of truth, for the truth will only become unsecret when it fully informs us.
(Btw and aside, I hope that the reason you did not publish my second comment is because you found it absurd and not that you found it rude. I’d hate to think that you think I am being personally rude. People tell me that sometimes my words come across like that. If so, I apologize, and of course understand why you would not publish it.)
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