Religious Influence
Should faith play a role in world affairs? Leaders at the 2010 World Religions Summit in Winnipeg think so.
The eyes of the world are on politicians as the G8 and G20 summits draw near, but religious leadership is just as powerful as political leadership, says Dr. Alberto Quattrucci, who spoke at the World Religions Summit’s opening ceremonies yesterday.
“I believe that religions have the power to change hearts and minds,” said Quattrucci to an audience of about 80 religious leaders from around the world, gathered at the University of Winnipeg. “And even the most resilient political structures can be changed by the hearts and minds of the people. The opposite is never true.”
Dave Courchene, a spiritual leader from the Sagkeeng First Nation in Manitoba, said that in order to be effective, politicians need to work with spiritual leaders and tune into their own spirituality. “We mustn’t limit ourselves to simply intellectualizing the world’s problems,” he said. “Obama has assembled the greatest intellectuals to help him. But when are they going to leverage people of the heart?”
To claim there’s a need for spirituality and religion in world politics goes against the grain in a time when secularism is often seen as a prerequisite for democratic decision-making.
For instance, when Washington State legalized a form of physician-assisted suicide in 2008, legislators were urged not to consider so-called religious values while deliberating the bill. “We respect everybody’s faith,” said Anne Martens, the spokesperson for the group in support of legalization. “But we don’t think they should impose it on the entire state.”
But maybe it’s healthy to acknowledge that the power of religion in world affairs is alive and strong. The Middle East conflict, the global struggle for gay rights and the continuing unrest in Iraq are each examples of political situations with undeniable religious influences.
When I was studying world religions at the University of Ottawa, my classmates liked to debate whether religion was a good influence in the world or a bad one. I think history shows it can work either way.
The delegates here at the summit intend to harness the power of religion to push for the fulfillment of the UN Millennium Development Goals, which are designed to improve the quality of life of the poor and the vulnerable. “We, the leaders of the world’s religions and spiritual traditions, need to build a more human third millennium,” said Quattrucci to enthusiastic applause.
Open to Interpretation
Senator Roméo Dallaire advises religious leaders to express their goals more clearly.
In the hungry, squirmy time just before lunch break yesterday, the delegates of the World Religions Summit at the University of Winnipeg heard Jack Suderman of the Mennonite Church of Canada suggest a ninth, unofficial Millennium Development Goal. “Let’s make a commitment to stop justifying violence within our houses of faith,” he said.
I jotted the proposal down in my notebook but gave it no further thought until a Winnipeg Free Press reporter in the media room asked me how United Church people might react to a statement like Suderman’s.
“I’m not sure,” I said, confused. “I didn’t find it to be terribly controversial; I don’t think I’ve ever heard violence promoted during a United Church service. I guess there might be a prayer for the safety of peacekeepers or soldiers from time to time.”
“Soldiers’ safety can depend on killing others,” said the reporter, who had interpreted Suderman’s words as a call for the outright condemnation of all armed missions, regardless of their intent. The Mennonites have a long tradition of pacifism, she explained. Many of the people in their book of martyrs, Martyrs Mirror, died for that principle.
The fact that the Winnipeg Free Press reporter and I had understood Suderman’s words differently made me wonder what other diverging understandings might exist at the summit. It seemed strange that, so far, the delegates had agreed unanimously on nearly everything they discussed. While I knew they were keen to find common ground and work together, I had expected there would be debates on some of the details.
The statement the religious leaders are planning to present to G20 leaders could be interpreted in many different ways, I realized. For example, the section on peace says, “We call on governments to make new and greater investments in building peace through negotiation, mediation, and humanitarian support to peace processes, including the control and reduction of small arms that every year are the cause of over 300,000 deaths globally.” The second part of that sentence is fairly specific, but the first part is full of what keynote speaker Senator Roméo Dallaire called “ambiguous language.”
When Dallaire was a military general, the orders he gave and received were made up of clear, concrete action verbs such as “advance,” “block” or “retreat.” On the other hand, he said, when he became a peacekeeper in 1993, his first mandate was to “establish an atmosphere of security.” He wasn’t sure which concrete actions “establishing an atmosphere” entailed, nor what constituted “an atmosphere of security.” A heavily policed region? An absence of weapons (or certain types of weapons)?
The religious leaders in the room need to establish a clear lexicon of peace and justice, Dallaire said. This statement might itself sound ironically vague, but what Dallaire meant is that when we gather at events like the World Religions Summit, we need to make sure each of us knows what the other is talking about.
A Moment of Peace
While G20 protesters and police squared off on Toronto’s streets, a downtown church offered a sanctuary from the fracas.
I was worn out and admittedly a bit cranky yesterday afternoon as I mingled with the police and protesters near the G20 security zone in downtown Toronto. I was just getting over the flu, and all the shouting and commotion were making my head pound. When I saw that the door to the Church of the Holy Trinity on Bay Street was open, I decided to steal a quiet moment inside.
The three volunteers who greeted me explained that their church wanted to provide a peaceful place for protesters to sit and reflect, away from the fray. They were sympathetic to the demonstrators because they know how exhausting standing up for something can be: the church is working on a number of social justice initiatives, including a class-action lawsuit against a government-run institution where mentally challenged residents were allegedly abused.
The volunteers handed me Holy Trinity’s G20 statement, which included a prayer for the safety of all the summit participants, official and unofficial. “We invite you to add your own prayers,” the statement said.
After I spent a bit of time in meditation by the altar, the church volunteers offered me a glass of juice. Upon learning that I’m from Nova Scotia, they pulled out a fiddle and played My Cape Breton Home, accompanied by the piano. One thing led to another, and before long I was step dancing happily while they played jigs and reels.
The music attracted a group of protesters, homeless people and passersby, who sat on the pews to rest their feet and listen.
Church volunteer Anna Dohler sat on the sidelines embroidering a banner for Pentecost. “This is the holy fire that inspired the disciples to go out and speak to the world,” she said, pointing to an embroidered row of flames. “And that’s the dove of peace,” she added, gesturing toward the stained glass window nearby.
Both symbols resonated with me. The fire reminded me of some of the passionate people I had met at the Truth and Reconciliation event, the World Religions Summit and the G20: the protesters, religious leaders, speakers, residential school survivors and activists who were determined to struggle for justice. And the dove reminded me of the moments when those same people nurtured their spirits by praying, listening to music or even just joking around.
I’m grateful that Holy Trinity remembered the importance of peaceful moments and provided one for those of us who stopped in. When I went back outside, helicopters were rumbling loudly in the sky, a man was in a heated argument with a police officer and I had a lot of work to do once I made it home. But now, I was ready.
For the United Church Observer, now Broadview Magazine, June 2011.
