As part of the grand, self-aggrandising spectacle on the banks of the Seine, a troupe of drag queens staged a re-enactment of Leonardo da Vinci's celebrated painting The Last Supper.

An ersatz, plump, drag Jesus stood behind a sound mixer in an ultramarine, sequined dress making a heart symbol with his/her/their hands.

A bizarrely blue Bacchus, already likened to a Smurf, emerged from a great silver platter decorated with rainbow flowers.

It made for an incongruous, ill-thought through silhouette that surely lacked the sophistication or execution to be considered effective satire.

Christian community upset

Diverse Christian groups have taken umbrage about all this over the past few days.

It was called "an insult", "blasphemy", "an abomination". Some described it as "Satanic" or "pagan". Others decried, "They wouldn't do this to Islam!"

Olympic bosses have subsequently apologised, although the director, Thomas Jolly, remains defiant.

The outspokenness of the response from some Christian commentators has been predictable, but is also, in my view, dismaying.

For one thing, it distracts from reasonable and rather more damning criticism of the sheer tedium of the whole performance, which was less high art than it was bad taste.

As Gareth Roberts noted in a jaded review for Britain's The Spectator, "has it finished yet?"

The whole thing probably worked better as a subversive send-up of the extremes of identitarian politics and discourse than it did of Christianity.

It was counterproductive, especially with the world watching. "A smug spectacle of wokeness", as Spiked Online put it.

The Last Supper

We may well have arrived at a moment when the particular constellation of beliefs associated with such banal identity intersectionalism collapses under the weight of its own internal contradictions, as well as the sheer conformism of those who seek to enforce its marginal agendas.

As a gay man, that worries me, because it risks undoing much of the progress for LGBTIQ+ rights around the world over the past six decades.

Nevertheless, that is not the point of this article.

What I argue here is that the speed with which certain elements of the Christian community are embracing politicised victimhood is an unwelcoming development for Christianity's place in the public sphere in Western societies.

It represents a marked departure from the attitude that previous generations of Christian martyrs — real victims, if you will — glorified at a time Christianity truly was imperilled.

To put it bluntly: Christians should be more wary about joining the self-pity parade.

A short history of Christian victimhood

Christianity is a religion born of sanctifying the victim. Jesus became one when he died on the cross for our sins. Early Christian martyrs, too, revelled in their victim statuses.

Peter Brown famously argued that the cult of saints and their relics in Late Antiquity self-consciously inverted categories of triumph and defeat precisely in order to celebrate persecution.

Moreover, pagan Romans buried dead bodies only outside city walls so that their polluting miasma was kept away from the living. By contrast, Christians reclaimed and embraced death — especially ignominious death — as precious.

Martyr graves and sites of executions became Christianity's "sacred sites" where shrines and churches were built.

By exalting humility and forbearance, the early Christians created the conditions for peaceable coexistence with outsiders, for mutual respect and understanding, and for developing a sense of proportion in difficult interactions.

This strand in Christian thinking has never been truly dominant within Christian societies — though it has acted as a powerful moderating influence on more dogmatic and utopian impulses in Christian societies' political thought and moral teachings.

Christianity has rarely prospered when its adherents have strayed far from it.

The problem, however, is that such humbleness in the face of adversity is hard — the more so in an age of perpetual outrage. '

Some Christians observe how other minority groups, including the LGBTIQ+ community, gain advantage from taking offence.

It can seem only too rational to join them in order to reap the same rewards.

They do not see what is less visible: the unease, even resentment, that builds up in a wider population when intolerant groups demand blasphemy laws or other categories of special treatment.

"Do to others what you would have them do to you", as Jesus put it. Is perpetual conflict with liberals what Christians really want?
Church versus state

Last year, I wrote about an apparently similar case when the comedian Reuben Kaye told an off-colour joke about Jesus live on The Project.

The parallel with that case and the Olympic controversy is the inept attempt at satire which fell flat because it lacked the requisite intellectual brio to sound fresh and relevant.

It is worth pointing out a major difference, however. Kaye's joke was the work of one man — even his fellow participants in The Project seemed rather uncomfortable with it.

The "attack" on Christianity — or, more specifically, Catholicism — at the Olympics was, on the other hand, sanctioned by the French state.

This is entirely clear from the fact that it took place in the context of the Olympic opening ceremony.

Now, the French state has long had an uneasy relationship with Christianity. The 1789 Revolution notoriously confiscated vast quantities of church assets and martyred many clergy, including Pope Pius VI.

It also instigated the Deist Cult of the Supreme Being.

The violent Paris Commune of 1871 was no better, leading to the murder of the Archbishop Georges Darboy.

And France's 1905 Law on the Separation of Church and State, which enforced laïcité (secularism) as a grounding principle of the French Third Republic, only led to a further generation of trouble, conflict, rancour and tensions.

French Catholics may well have reasonable cause to look at the way their governments have treated their faith over a long period. They might contrast it with privileges perceived to have been extended to other groups.

Of course, the historical context of the French church's role in upholding the ancién régime needs to be factored into any such appraisal: secularists have always argued that this was simply too insidious to be allowed to go uncorrected.

And yet, the spectacle of one's own state — the society which claims you as an inalienable member — crassly making fun of your most intimate and cherished beliefs about the meaning of your life would likely be difficult for many of us to countenance.

The incident last week affords the French government an opportunity to rethink how freedom of speech relates to freedom of religion, as well as to what enforcing laïcité actually means in a modern, pluralistic society.

If France can have some difficult conversations about what the state's role is in protecting freedoms, then some good will have come of this situation.

Personally, I am not hopeful.

The French elite, beset with myriad other crises, lacks the bandwidth to achieve anything so felicitous there.

Nevertheless, the Australian state is better placed and it is a question we should also be asking, especially in the light of our own current conflicts around religious discrimination.

Who gets to decide where the boundary between free speech and religious freedom lies? Those who are not proactive about debating this issue — and reinforcing tolerance — risk letting others decide on their behalf.

How to be tolerant of criticism

A further point in defence of the (apparently) indefensible: you lose the moral high ground when you complain gratuitously and cynically or demand respect rather than seeking to win it from others by your example.

Invocations of blasphemy or the "inappropriateness" of such a spectacle taking place in front of children ignore a difficult point.

It cannot be for just one group in society — or one part of the global audience watching on television — to become self-appointed arbiters of limits to socially sanctioned sexual expression or of legitimate religious satire.

Christians ought to recognise that they will get as good as they have given.

Their religion has been pretty intolerant of LGBTIQ+ people for a thousand years (or longer) so they can scarcely be astonished when LGBTIQ+ activists attempt to hit back, however crassly.

Self-confident churches build bridges with their enemies and competitors, turning them into allies.

One of Pope Francis's key achievements has arguably been his promulgation of carefully calibrated statements about different minority groups on the Catholic Church's margins.

He tests opinion, stresses solidarity, and tries to identify points of consensus.

We all ought to be more wary of joining in races to be the most offended, for being able to bear suffering and public mockery earns more respect and is more consistent with living out worthwhile ideals.

What a pity if the sentiments, and approaches, which Pope Francis himself champions are crowded out by more sinister agendas — the domination of public discourse through coercion and the dismantling of pluralism.

Catholics, and other Christians, who advocate for these things are no better than their opponents on the other side of the divide.

• First published by ABC. Republished with author's permission.
• Miles Pattenden is a medieval historian and researcher at Deakin University.

The number of Maori identifying as having "no religion" in the census between 2006 and 2018 increased from 36.5% to 53.5%. Maori affiliation with Christianity has fallen from 46.2% to 29.9%.

Are Maori simply rejecting Christianity? Or are they rejecting all supernatural phenomena, including traditional Maori beliefs?

Our research examined the apparent rise of Maori atheism. We found the colonial history of religion was a driving force for Maori who identified as atheist or having no religion.

We also found Maori atheists said they experienced discrimination for their lack of religion, and their "Maoriness" was questioned within their community or work.

The "no religion" category in the census captures a range of worldviews, including people who say they are spiritual but not religious; agnostics - people who are uncertain about the existence of a higher power; and atheists - people who do not believe in the existence of god(s).

Multiple reasons for leaving religion

As part of our research, we spoke with 16 Maori aged 30 to 65 who did not believe in god(s). All but four were raised in religious households.

Some emphasised lingering intellectual doubts as the reason for rejecting religion. As one participant explained:

Others said they left for moral reasons.

These included a perceived hypocrisy among churchgoers, immorality of religious leaders, and the role of religion in spreading harmful views about women and LGBTQ people.

Most participants, however, framed their rejection of religion as an expression of resistance against the colonial systems of belief.

In fact, participants' ideas of "religion" were primarily shaped by their experience of various Christian denominations and their knowledge of the Christian missionary history in Aotearoa New Zealand.

Accordingly, most of the people we spoke with viewed religion as a colonial tool for the oppression of Maori people and culture. Another participant noted:

Others argued that the God of the Bible is not indigenous to Aotearoa, but rather a creation myth from the Middle East and therefore inherently irrelevant to Maori people.

Dissatisfaction entwined with colonial history

The interview responses show Maori rejection of Christianity seems to be largely aligned with anti-colonial movements, Maori protest movements, and the decolonial feminist movement.

For most participants, "atheism" equated to non-belief in the existence of God and the rejection of monotheistic traditions, specifically Christianity.

In other words, being a Maori atheist did not necessarily mean the rejection of all supernatural beliefs.

While some individuals were confident in their non-belief in all supernatural phenomena, others were either ambivalent towards certain wairua (spirit, soul) beliefs or emphasised the need to understand Maori beliefs as metaphors for a way to live.

What it means to be Maori is changing

The emergence of "non-religious" as a growing sector of the Maori community poses both challenges and opportunities to the ideas of what it is to be Maori and the development of New Zealand.

If we see ourselves progressing as a "bi-cultural" Treaty/Tiriti-enhanced nation, it stands to reason we need to be able to identify the two cultures clearly.

But there is the opportunity to develop more quickly without identity "membership" based on religious affiliation or non-affiliation.

Within the community, there is a spectrum of views about the significance of religious or spiritual beliefs to Maori identity.

On one end, there are those who ask whether it is even possible to be Maori if one is not "religious" or "spiritual" in some shape or form.

At the other, there are those who distinguish between culture and religion, and argue Maori development can be more easily enhanced if one is freed from the constraints of religious belief.

The former speaks to a "traditional" and conservative view of being Maori; the latter to notions of changes in cultures, the impact of the colonial experience, modernisation, and different ways of being Maori.

Our research highlights the diversity of non-religion among Maori, which is neither reflected in representations of Maori (for instance in education), nor considered in Maori-Crown relations.

While there is little difficulty in identifying the Crown in Treaty negotiations, the emerging "no religion" sector of the Maori community adds new layers of complexity to who the Treaty partner is. Importantly, is being spiritual or religious a prerequisite to being a Maori?

• Masoumeh Sara Rahmani Lecturer Study of Religion, Te Herenga Waka — Victoria University of Wellington
• Peter Adds Professor, Te Herenga Waka — Victoria University of Wellington.
• First published in The Conversation. Republished with permission.

Tamaki's focus was the election result and the state of Kiwi society.

The outspoken Bishop began his address with an apology for being late, attributing it to watching the All Blacks.

Still, his speech quickly turned political and confrontational as he addressed the election outcomes.

"So did National win last night on the back of the fact is that we're so anti-Christ that a person (Simon O'Connor former Tamaki MP) can't any longer stand up for their Christian faith?

"Just to say: I agree with the abortion changes in America?

"What sort of Christians are we breeding? ... Gutless Kiwis ... gutless Christians!"

Despite Tamaki's fervour, the Destiny Church-affiliated Freedoms NZ umbrella party managed to secure only 0.31 percent of the total votes, totaling 7031.

Hannah Tamaki, wife of the Bishop also shared her thoughts on the election results during the gathering.

"I'm actually quite glad that the prime minister of the day is a married man who has a beautiful wife and children because the exiting one told everybody last night that 'a lot of you don't know my partner Toni.' Well, we knew, but we didn't know," Hannah said.

This impassioned gathering highlighted the ongoing debates and divisions within New Zealand society over issues related to faith, politics, and societal values.

Source

• Stuff

The English writer, theologian and heavily-mustachioed sage seemed an unlikely choice for the climax of an impassioned oration by a tiny, fiery Italian blonde.

But maybe not.

Chesterton was known as the "Apostle of common sense".

"Fires will be kindled to testify that two and two make four. Swords will be drawn to prove that leaves are green in summer. That time has arrived. We are ready," she shouted in her thick, working-class Roman accent.

The audience whooped.

Part of Meloni's speech went viral.

"They want to call us parent 1, parent 2, gender LGBT, citizen X, with code numbers.

"But we are not code numbers … and we'll defend our identity.

"I am Giorgia. I am a woman. I am a mother. I am Italian. I am Christian!"

Some DJs, who were unhappy with Meloni's views on gay marriage, sampled her words and put a disco beat behind them to demonise her.

It backfired big time.

The song became a hit in Italian clubs and shot up the charts; far from discrediting Meloni, it only boosted her popularity.

Last week, that fiery, 45-year-old blonde became the first female prime minister of Italy, a major personal triumph in a still notably macho culture.

But the headlines all focused on Giorgia Meloni being "far-Right".

"The most dangerous woman in Europe," warned Germany's Stern magazine.

Meloni had even upset Ursula von der Leyen, the President of the European Commission.

Responding to a question on whether there were any concerns about the forthcoming elections in Italy, a sanctimoniously smirking von der Leyen replied, "If things go in a difficult direction, I've spoken about Hungary and Poland, we have tools."

They call Giorgia Meloni a fascist, but it's the impeccably liberal von der Leyen who behaves like one.

"We have tools," spoken like a true totalitarian.

Who would you trust when it comes to respecting a democratic decision?

The first elected leader of Italy for 14 years, a single mother from a poor home, or a failed German defence minister, the product of a wealthy elite who was shoehorned into the EU's top job without a single vote cast?

While there are valid concerns about the fascist origins of Meloni's party, what I hear when I listen to her are mainstream Conservative values.

Here is a politician who speaks up for the family and the nation.

She opposes globalisation which turns men and women into faceless units of consumption.

She says yes to secure borders and no to mass migration, yes to sexual identity and no to the alphabetti spaghetti of gender politics.

Why are these views of millions of middle-of-the road people now called "far-Right"? Continue reading

• Allison Pearson is a columnist and the chief interviewer of the Daily Telegraph.

That's the belief of Alain Clément Amiézi, a theologian who was appointed by Pope Francis last June to lead the Diocese of Odienné in northern Côte d'Ivoire.

Bishop-elect Amiézi, who has been a theology professor and parish priest since becoming a priest in 1999, will be ordained to the episcopate and installed as the Ordinary of Odienné on September 24.

Four days later this author of numerous books who got a doctorate at the University Urbaniana in Rome will mark his 52nd birthday.

La Croix Africa's Guy Aimé Eblotié spoke with Bishop-elect Amiézi about the Church in Africa.

How do you see the state of faith in Africa?

The majority of our Churches in Africa have already celebrated the centenary of evangelization.

Logically, we should speak of an adult Church. But at the qualitative level, we realize that there is still a lot of work to do.

Today, in several African countries, after the great celebrations that accompany the reception of baptism, the percentage of those who continue and complete their Christian initiation through confirmation is very low.

The number of faithful who are truly committed to social or political action according to the virtues of the Gospel is infinitesimal. People are baptised without becoming Christians, the sacraments are given without evangelizing.

The responsibilities for this situation are shared. From my point of view, it is linked, on the one hand, to the fact that some catechumens ask for baptism for the wrong reasons and, on the other hand, to the quality of the formation received.

What should be the impact of baptism on the lives of African Christians?

There is essentially the prophetic commitment which has three dimensions.

First, a Christian coherence invites us to break with the dichotomy that often exists between the life of faith and everyday life, at work, at school or in the family.

Christian life is not a cloak that one wears when entering the church and removes when leaving.

The second dimension is courageous witness.

Our African countries need Christians who are able to get out of the logic of "everyone does it this way," and then live their faith through their commitment at the social, economic and political levels.

The third dimension is to have a spirituality that allows Christians to face existential problems with courage.

There are forms of spirituality that make our Christians numb, that infantilize them through predictions and words of knowledge, to the point where their vital forces are annihilated.

Who is responsible for this prophetic commitment for an adult Church? The clergy or the laity?

Clerics and laity must work together for the good of the Church.

Clerics must fully play their role as formators, companions and guides. They must also collaborate fully with the laity so that there is what is called in the Church a common responsibility.

Since Vatican II, we are no longer in the era when the priest did everything and lay people were passive observers.

From a historical perspective, it is obvious that since the arrival of the missionaries, the lay people have participated actively in evangelization, especially through the catechists.

Today it is necessary to reimagine the participation of the laity in the life of the Church, taking into account the new realities.

In this regard, we must consider the phenomenon of new communities and fraternities, which can make valuable contributions but can also pose problems. Indeed, they sometimes plunge Christians into obscurantism and infantilize them.

It is imperative for pastors to help these prayer groups understand what it means to be "ecclesial".

• Guy Aimé Eblotié write for La Croix from Africa.
• First published in La-Croix International. Republished with permission.

More than the pope — her reign saw seven of them — she was a constant presence in Christian life in Britain, at Church and in prayer.

She showed by example, leading ceremonies of national remembrance and addressing the nation and the Commonwealth at Christmas.

We all also knew her to be a regular churchgoer.

Her death leaves an enormous void for believers everywhere.

The optics of her position were wealth and glamour, but the philosophy which underpinned her approach to monarchy was a very quiet Christian humility.

In this, she was rather more like Pope Francis — that other great Christian figurehead of our time — than casual observers have imagined.

"For me", Queen Elizabeth said in her 2014 Christmas message, "the life of Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, is an inspiration and an anchor in my life. A role model of reconciliation and forgiveness, he stretched out his hands in love, acceptance, and healing."

Aged 21, she made this highly personal and very Christian commitment on radio: "I declare before you all that my whole life whether it be long or short shall be devoted to your service."

Sadly, she was called to make this promise good just five years later when her father, King George VI, died an untimely and much-lamented death.

Queen Elizabeth personified Christian virtue for the next seven decades.

She was constant; she was reliable; she was indefatigable, unstuffy, unshowy, and uncomplaining. She never demanded gratitude but toiled on regardless.

And she displayed an intense commitment to God, which inspired her to find ways to embody values cherished by the British people.

She would not abdicate because she believed such an act would have violated her oath to a Higher Power.

She was queen for life because she had been anointed.

Her forbearance in the face of failing health and old age has therefore been one of the past decade's most visible outward signs of unwavering Christian faith.

Queen Elizabeth's crown may not have been one of thorns, but its burden was nevertheless still barbed and weighty.

A thousand photographers waited in earnest for a sign of annoyance, exasperation, arrogance, vanity, or aloofness. And yet, in years and years and years, none came.

The Queen was true to her word and was loved and admired for it.

Even at the end, she was still at her dutiful best, pushing past her obvious frailty on Tuesday to meet with politicians to arrange a change of British government.

She never complained; she never explained.

Her ethic was of the kind often referred to as Stoic — and Christianity certainly absorbed aspects of it from Greek philosophy. But this was also the ethic present in Christ's Passion.

Queen Elizabeth's life became its own very modern sort of Passion play, in which one person was identified with the sins of a nation.

Britain's Original Sin has come to be seen as that of Empire, a formation of which Her Majesty had begun her reign as public face.

Yet she bore the opprobrium that her nation's imperial legacy attracted with grace and humour.

More importantly, still, she sought to construct something positive from the embers of exploitation.

The Commonwealth will surely be her lasting legacy — a global fellowship in parallel with the Anglican communion, which unites peoples of many backgrounds and many faiths through a common desire to do good.

Queen Elizabeth's death can be a moment for all of us — Christians and non-Christians alike — to take stock of our quarrels, to pause them, and to unite in grief and mourning as we are reminded of inexorability.

Today we are often encouraged to express our feelings freely, to wear our hearts upon our sleeves, à la Prince Harry.

And so Queen Elizabeth's unsentimental brand of silent public virtue has, by contrast, come to seem a touch quaint, limiting, and outdated.

Yet the moment of her death affords an opportunity not only to give thanks for her steadfastness but also to reflect on its qualities as a model for our own lives.

Quiet Christianity helped Queen Elizabeth win over many critics, even those who were opposed to her ideologically. Her obvious tolerance and moderation brought out those same impulses in others.

It is a painful irony that her Anglican Communion itself is going through such public convulsions occasioned by an inability to chart the tolerant, moderate paths which she championed.

As a Briton, and as a historian, I felt an unfamiliar unease as the news unfolded.

For me, as for most of my fellow countrymen, this is uncharted territory: a time without our great national leader, the only monarch we have ever known. Something has changed forever.

Queen Elizabeth's response to such a crisis would surely have been to turn to Jesus — but to do so calmly, softly, and unobtrusively.

We must place our faith in him to deliver us from evil now that she is gone, following her lead for how that is done.

Rest in Peace, Your Majesty. God Save the King.

• Miles Pattenden is Senior Research Fellow at the Institute for Religion and Critical Inquiry at Australian Catholic University, and Visiting Fellow in the Humanities Research Centre at Australian National University.
• First published by the ABC. Republished with permission.

Caritas NZ says the pilgrims are in Glasgow to pray and to press world leaders for strong action at COP26 - the 26th Conference of Parties to the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change.

Religious leaders representing Christian, Muslim, Jewish, Sikh, Hindu, Buddhist and Baha'i traditions are offering prayers and calls for concrete actions.

The 31 October to 12 November conference is the first requiring countries to honour their Paris accord commitment to submit new, more ambitious plans to environmentally-damaging emissions.

Caritas NZ says the global Catholic charity has three critical targets it wants to see COP26 progressing:

• Strong emissions cuts to keep the 1.5C target alive
• More climate finance that is targeted and more readily accessible to the most vulnerable communities, equally shared between mitigation (cutting emissions) and adaptation. Finance to address Loss and Damage already incurred by the poor must be stepped up, recognising the ecological debt owed by richer countries to poorer ones.
• Tackling climate change in an integrated way, including protection and restoration of ecosystems and prioritising the needs of the poor in a just transition, in line with Laudato Si'.

During the conference, Caritas will hand over its "Healthy Planet, Healthy People" petition along with other messages from faith-filled activists and leaders from around the world.

Several hundred people gathered in the vicinity of the Scottish Events Centre when the conference opened, to pray for world leaders at the conference.

"We remind governments of their commitments made in Paris in 2015 to limit global warming to 1.5 degrees," says a multifaith declaration read at the event and signed by more than 50 religious leaders from Scotland and the United Kingdom.

Another multifaith statement asks "governments to swiftly and justly transition the global economy from fossil fuels toward renewables and compensate communities already affected by climate change."

"Across our doctrinal and political differences, we know that we must change our ways to ensure a quality of life which all can share, and we need to provide hope for people of all ages, everywhere, including future generations. To offer hope in the world we need to have confidence that those in power understand the vital role they have to play at the Glasgow COP26."

Scottish Catholic Bishop Brian McGee says the interfaith group is offering prayers for world leaders. It also expects to exert pressure on them to deliver on public demands for an urgent response to the climate crisis.

"Certainly that's what a lot of people have been doing. That is contacting the politicians and explaining to them that this is really, really important and we have to do something here," he says.

McGee says Catholic action at the climate summit shows love of God's creation and those suffering the impacts of global warming.

Pope Francis's "extraordinary leadership" in widening the ecological question beyond conservation has widened the way we look at creation and people suffering the impacts of global warming, McGee says.

"It's about how we treat people. It's about justice in all its forms."

Source

• La Croix
• Caritas
• Image: Caritas Internationalis

Many of us grew up in an era of "We are right and the others are wrong."

Christian churches seemed to have high fences around them, and religions that were not Christian were often labelled "Heathen" or "Pagan."

These divisions were puzzling when we were young.

Children tend to see God in everything.

I love the way Pope Francis strengthens the Catholic faith with a wider understanding of world religions.

Belief is largely cultural.

Our history, environment and traditions, make a receptacle for the Spiritual Presence that we know but can't directly describe.

Each religion values the rituals that lead to the heart space.

Each cherishes forms of prayer.

Each has a knowledge of God.

And we discover that the more we appreciate other religions, the deeper we come into our own faith.

It is the way God works.

My love of the Catholic Church has some connection with Judaism and Islam, the other two Abrahamic religions.

Let's put it this way:

God planted a treeing Israel and it grew, a strong Jewish tree sending out two solid branches, one Christian and the other Islamic.

The branches were of a different shape, but they had the same roots and the life of God running through them.

So what do I gain from this tree of Abraham?

There are Jewish teachings that are very close to my Catholic faith. Here are two:

We are born with two instincts, Yetzah Hatov, unselfishness, and Yetzah Hara, selfishness. The more we practice unselfishness, the more the selfish instinct will change.

The soul comes from God and the soul is always pure. But the soul wears three gardens: thought, word and deed, and these get soiled and need cleansing. When the garments are clean, the soul can see the light.

What gifts have come from Islam?

Hospitality to the stranger, and prayer throughout the day. There is also more about Jesus' mother in the Qu'ran than there is in the New Testament of the Bible.

I think God has undone most of the fear-based prejudice of my ancestors, but I still have a long way to go.

Thanks to the leadership of Pope Francis, I make the journey of discovery, with love.

• Joy Cowley is a wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and retreat facilitator.

He's bringing together all the things he wanted to say over the last seven years, and there's an obvious connection with the Human Fraternity document that he signed with the Grand Imam of al-Azhar Al Sharif on February 4, 2019, in Abu Dhabi," Cardinal Michael L. Fitzgerald M.Afr., told Americain this exclusive interview during his recent visit to Rome where he met the pope.

The English-born cardinal, 83, is a leading expert on Islam and Christian-Muslim relations and a member of the society of the Missionaries of Africa—popularly known as the White Fathers.

He discussed the encyclical and the Human Fraternity document with America at the Pontifical Institute of Arab and Islamic Studies in Rome, where he was once rector.

After that assignment, he was called by John Paul II to work at the Pontifical Council for Inter-religious Dialogue, first as secretary and then as prefect for four years until Benedict XVI, in an unexpected move, assigned him as nuncio to Egypt and delegate to the Arab League (2006-2012).

Pope Francis made him cardinal in 2019 and told journalists he did so "as an act of justice."

Cardinal Fitzgerald noted that Francis took inspiration for the encyclical not only from St. Francis of Assisi but also from the Grand Imam of al-Azhar, Ahmad Al-Tayyeb.

Indeed, "Francis reveals he was ‘stimulated'—that is the word he uses in Italian—by the Grand Imam", the cardinal said. "And that expression caught my eye, because there is no precedent in church history for a pope drawing inspiration from a Muslim in writing an encyclical."

He recalled Francis's own words about his and the Imam's meeting on the Human Fraternity document, which he mentions eight times in the encyclical: "This was no mere diplomatic gesture, but a reflection born of dialogue and common commitment."

The cardinal remarked, "all that's significant", as is "the fact that a Muslim—Judge Ahmed Al-Salam—was one of the presenters of Fratelli Tutti, at its launch in the Vatican."

"This is something that Pope Francis and the Grand Imam of al-Azhar agree on. This is a theological principle, so they were doing theology together."

The cardinal, who studied in Tunisia and Egypt, and worked in South Sudan, Cairo and Jerusalem, considered it "important" that both the encyclical and the Human Fraternity document emphasize that "we are all one family, and that this fact is based on our common origin from God, because God has created all people together."

He remarked: "This is something that Pope Francis and the Grand Imam of al-Azhar agree on. This is a theological principle, so they were doing theology together."

He recalled that "the Qur'an does [say] that we all come from one single stock, and we are all in Adam and the whole of humanity, before actually being created, has accepted God as God, as their Lord. But they have to be reminded about this, and that's the whole thrust in Islam.

We are all Muslims when we are born because we have all accepted God as our Lord" but, he remarked, "That doesn't come in the encyclical, of course."

He noted that "while Muslims refer to God as the Creator God, the Merciful God, they do not refer to God as Father.

They would object to that, because the word ‘father' for them has a sort of sexual connotation, and so that would not be worthy of God."

But, he remarked, the fact that Pope Francis and the Grand Imam "were able to produce this document on human fraternity without referring to God as father shows that this is fine."

He drew attention to the similarities in the Human Fraternity document and ‘Fratelli Tutti', and noted that while the pope speaks of a "desensitized" human conscience in the encyclical, Francis and Al-Tayyeb use the even stronger term "anesthetized" in the Abu Dhabi text.

The African missionary cardinal emphasized that, in the Human Fraternity document, Pope Francis and the Grand Imam issued "the condemnation of terrorism in all its forms and expressions."

He said it's "significant" that Francis quoted those same words in Fratelli Tutti (paragraph n.283), that make clear that "we should not support terrorism in any way, neither financially nor by attempts to justify it in the media."

"When the pope and the imam are saying this together, this has more weight, and it is noticed." Continue reading

A pre-pandemic, national survey of megachurches from the Hartford Institute for Religion Research found the median megachurch draws about 4,100 attenders to its worship services, up from about 3,700 in 2015.

The average megachurch budget is $5.3 million, up from $4.7 million in 2015. Seven out of 10 have more than one location. Six out of 10 (58%) say they have a multiracial congregation.

Despite the decline among Christian groups overall, most megachurches seem to be doing well, said Scott Thumma, professor of sociology of religion at Hartford Seminary and director of Hartford Institute.

"They continue to do things that other congregations should be doing," Thumma said.

Thumma said the use of contemporary worship — along with a focus on small groups and international diversity — has helped megachurches continue to grow.

Megachurches, in general, he said, also tend to steer clear of controversy, staying away from culture wars or political battles.

According to the survey:

• few megachurches said they distribute voter guides (14%),
• encourage voter registration (14%),
• participate in get-out-the-vote efforts,
• sixty-three percent said their church avoids political discussions when they gather,
• one in 5 said their congregation is politically active,
• two-thirds disagree when asked if "everyone in this congregation has the same political position.

Thumma said the growing diversity in megachurches reflects the changing demographics of the United States. Megachurches, he said, also attract younger worshippers than other kinds of churches.

"Megachurches are one of the few groups of churches that have a wide representation of people under 45," he said. People in that age group, he said, tend to be more demographically diverse and more open to diversity. More than three-quarters of the churches (78%) in the survey said they were intentionally trying to become more diverse.

Still, Thumma pointed out, megachurch pastors themselves are not a diverse group. The average megachurch pastor is a 53-year-old white man who has been in place for 15 years. And many are in danger of losing effectiveness as leaders, he said.

According to the survey, most megachurches experience their biggest growth when their pastor has been in place for between five and 19 years. After 20 years, the growth drops off. The survey also found that after 15 years, a megachurch's spiritual health begins to fail.

"The gist is that the period between 10 and 15 years of a pastor's tenure produces the most spiritually vital congregational dynamic," according to the report. "Prior to and after that point, it is a less robust picture, on average."

Thumma said that after 10 or 15 years, megachurches need to reassess to see if the way they are operating still meets the needs of the community around them. After that much time, things have likely changed and the church may have fallen into a rut.

"You can't live on your charisma and assume the church is just going to keep flourishing and flourishing," he said.

Among other findings:

• Only two-thirds (68%) of megachurch attendees show up on any given Sunday, down from 82% in 2015 and 90% in 2000.
• Half (51%) cooperate with other churches on community service projects.
• One in 5 (21%) cooperate with people of other faith traditions on community service.
• One in 5 (19.1%) declined by at least 2% in the last five years.
• Sixteen percent merged with another church.
• Just over half (56%) had between 1,800 and 2,999 average attenders per week, while 5% had more than 10,000 attenders.
• The average megachurch offered about seven services a week.
• Twenty-eight percent have paid, professional security at services. Thirty-eight percent have volunteer security.
• Two-thirds (65%) of megachurches identify as evangelical.
• Twelve percent identify as Pentecostal or charismatic.
• Twelve percent identify as "missional."
• Seven percent identify as liberal, moderate or progressive.
• Thumma said that overall, megachurches seem to be growing less comfortable with the term "evangelical" and are more open than in the past to working with those they disagree with on theological or political matters.

"You can see them moving ever so slightly toward the middle," he said.

The survey included 580 megachurches with an average weekly attendance of 1,800 adults and children or more, and was part of the larger Faith Communities Today study. The survey was conducted from January until May 2020. The study was conducted by the Hartford Institute along with the Evangelical Council for Financial Accountability and Leadership Network.

The full survey can be found at the Hartford Institute for Religion Research website.

• Bob Smietana is a veteran religion writer and editor-in-chief of Religion News Service.
• First published in RNS. Republished with permission.
• Ahead of the Trend is a collaborative effort between Religion News Service and the Association of Religion Data Archives made possible through the support of the John Templeton Foundation.

That is true whether we modern believers are Japanese or not, Catholic Christians or not. The Church within which we live and worship endured persecution so recent that I know a woman whose grandfather died a martyr.

The rest of her family — parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces and nephews — was wiped out on Aug. 9, 1945, when the atomic bomb exploded over the Catholic neighbourhood of Nagasaki. She was the only member of the family out of town that day.

During the centuries of persecution, Christians in Japan had no church buildings, no clergy, no religious, no Masses, no religious institutions, no diocesan structures, and no contact with the rest of the Church in the country or outside.

What they did have was each other and a commitment to maintain as well as they could the faith that was passed on to them and to pass it on to the next generations even at the risk of their lives.

They were poor, oppressed and lived in perpetual danger, but they prayed and shared their ability to help one another in need. In many ways, it was the Golden Age of Christianity in Japan.

Those Japanese Christians knew that church is not someplace to go, but something to be, something to do.

The coronavirus pandemic is an opportunity to learn or relearn that today.

We have had to be faithful without much of what we thought essential, symbolized by a building and what goes on inside it.

But God is still with us whether we are in a cross-decorated building or not. The real issue is, are we with God?

Around the world, there are Christians who clamour to have their buildings reopen so that they might exercise their Christianity.

They ignore the fact that confronted with a highly contagious disease, the most Christian thing to do is to protect others by following the advice of disease experts.

Jesus never told his followers to gather in a particular place each week. He did say that our lives will be judged on whether or not we respond to him in our needy sisters and brothers. He did say that when we pray, we should go apart to a private place and pray in secret to the Father who sees what happens in secret.

When he spoke with the Samaritan woman at the well, Jesus said that places are not important, that what matters is worship "in spirit and truth."

The woman had asked him where proper worship should be done, at the temple on Mt. Gerizim or at the temple in Jerusalem.

His answer was basically, "Neither."

In that case, do we need buildings at all if we can and should pray anywhere and everywhere?

We do not and we do.

Originally, Christians gathered in homes. Besides being persecuted, Christian communities were small enough to not need special buildings and were too poor to erect them.

Eventually, as numbers increased, homes were modified to allow larger gatherings.

The remains of the oldest known one are in Dura-Europos in Syria.

Its frescos, the earliest surviving Christian art, are in a museum at Yale University in the United States.

Over time as Christian communities grew, buildings were adapted or erected for liturgical use.

The three-aisle layout that is so common in churches comes from basilicas (public halls) that were repurposed into churches or were the architectural model for them.

So, we have buildings in which we gather in the name of Jesus so that our discipleship can be confirmed, nurtured, confronted, affirmed and comforted.

But the discipleship is the important thing.

Without that, the gatherings are nearly worthless. And that is the reason this pandemic is an opportunity for each of us. Discipleship does not require a particular kind of building or a particular kind of gathering.

Buildings, Sunday gatherings, public prayers and hymns are the accompaniments of religion, but not the essence of Christianity.

Christianity is not a religion.

It has religious trimmings, but its most basic reality is a relationship with God through Jesus Christ. The "religious" trappings aid our commitment to and celebration of that relationship but are not the relationship.

Now that the danger of contagion makes the buildings and large gatherings unavailable, we are invited to concentrate on what our faith really is.

It is prayer, service and trust that we celebrate with others when we can, but which we must live regardless of circumstances.

We can gather few by few to break open the Word, break the Bread, and share our faith. We can be church, as were the persecuted Christians of Japan.

• Bill Grimm is a Catholic priest and Maryknoll missioner who lives in Japan.
• First published in UCANews.com. Republished with permission.
• The views expressed here do not necessarily reflect those of CathNews.

The panel discussion, held during the 74th session of the U.N. General Assembly, was co-hosted by the permanent missions of Hungary and Brazil.

The event, "Rebuilding Lives, Rebuilding Communities: Ensuring a Future for Persecuted Christians," addressed both recent episodes of violence against Christians and continuing efforts to ensure religious freedom internationally.

In his opening statement before the panel, Péter Szijjártó, the minister of foreign affairs and trade for Hungary, stated, "This is a fact that Christianity is the most persecuted religion all over the world," a sentiment echoed in 2012 by Chancellor Angela Merkel of Germany.

An independent review completed in 2019 of Christian persecution, spearheaded by Anglican Bishop Philip Mounstephen of Truro, England, supported that claim and found that "evidence shows not only the geographic spread of anti-Christian persecution but also its increasing severity."

In June 2017, the Pew Research Center reported that in 2015, Christians endured harassment in 128 countries but faced the most instances of harassment in Christian-majority countries.

Mr. Szijjártó said he believes that political correctness contributes to a lack of discussion on this topic. "In global politics, the fact that the Christians are persecuted is kind of being ignored," he said.

He also highlighted the efforts undertaken by Hungary to combat anti-Christian violence, which included providing aid to 1,000 Christians displaced by ISIS attacks in Teleskof, a northern Iraqi town on the Nineveh Plains.

Cardinal Pietro Parolin, the Vatican secretary of state, recalled his visit last December to Mosul, the Iraqi city ravaged and then captured by ISIS militants, who were driven out in 2017.

"As I walked through the city of Mosul, there was still rubble everywhere, making it difficult to traverse," the cardinal said.

He saw the recent movement of exiled Iraqi Christians back to their homeland as "a sign that evil does not have the last word."

The Lord Ahmad of Wimbledon, the United Kingdom's minister of state for the Commonwealth, the United Nations and South Asia, broadened the scope of the discussion beyond the persecution of Christians.

"Individuals all around the globe are persecuted and discriminated against because of their religious beliefs," he said.

The Lord Ahmad also said that it is because of his Muslim faith, not in spite of it, that he supports religious freedom for all people. He said that Islam is a peaceful religion and that he does not view attacks by ISIS as acts of faith. He called perpetrators of such violence "evil" and "demonic." Continue reading

• Image: GodTV

Müller, the former archbishop of Regensburg, Germany, made the comment during a reflection in Verona on the theme "Prayer: A gift from God," telling hundreds of listeners that "the faithful of Islam are not adopted children of God by the grace of Christ, but only his subjects."

Therefore, "We cannot pray like or with Muslims," he said.

"Their faith in God and his self-revelation is not only different from the Christian faith in God, but even denies its formula, claiming that God does not have a Son who, as the eternal Word of the Father, is a divine person and, with the Father and the Holy Spirit, is the One and Trinitarian God."

He went on to explain that Muslims can pray only to a distant God, submitting to his will as an unknown destiny.

"Their prayer expresses the blind subordination to the dominant will of God. The Christian instead prays that the will of God be done, a will that we do in liberty and that does not make us slaves, but free children of God."

Müller explained that unlike people of other religions, Christians "do not view their neighbours, who do not want or cannot believe in God, as opponents or victims of the Zeitgeist to be pitied.

"Instead, Christians see them as brothers whose Creator and Father is the only God, the One who seeks them out.

"They [Christians] offer an honest dialogue regarding the question that determines the meaning of being in general and of human existence in particular, because they feel united to them in the search for a better world."

For Müller, "Even Islam has faith in the one God, but which is understood as a natural faith in the existence of God and not as faith as a virtue infused with hope and love, which makes us sharers in the life of God, ensuring that we remain in him and he in us."

Source

• LifeSite
• Image: National Catholic Register

As the law forbids minors from entering places of worship, Catholics are "reinventing" their homes as temporary "churches" for services that can include the whole family.

"Each family is continuing its faith activities at home and maintaining its strong bonds with God," says a young Catholic whose parents have helped organise local home churches.

Priests at the house meetings explain church teachings to young Catholics and strengthen their faith amid fears that younger generations will lose their family's traditional belief in Christianity: Beijing views all religions as a threat to its dominance.

Communist Party rules are more strictly observed in Henan province than elsewhere in China. Besides the prohibitions on minors from attending religious studies classes, the provincial government has been gathering data on Christians to monitor their activities.

In Henan:

• Elderly villagers have had to renounce their faith amid threats that their social security benefits will be withheld if they fail to comply
• Civil servants and teachers say their families have been threatened with punishment unless they stop attending services at their parish churches
• Protestant churches in several districts have had their crosses demolished
• A cathedral in Anyang diocese was ordered to remove its cross and hoist the national flag as a sign of patriotism
• Authorities reportedly forced the Anyang diocese bishop and priests to disclose where parishes' religious materials are printed
• Anyang's churches were ordered to remove all posters and other religiously-themed promotional materials
• At least four churches in Nanyang city were raided at dawn last Wednesday,

Practising religion in a clandestine fashion "is becoming a general trend in China now," one mother said. "There's no way to stop it."

Another underground Catholic said the new level of persecution reminded him of the 1966-76 Cultural Revolution which he experienced as a child.

"Now we seem to be returning to that period so our kids will get to experience just how bad things can get."

"Every round of persecution just makes the church stronger and the faithful more determined," he said. "External blows can't destroy one's inner faith."

Source

• La Croix
• VOA
• Image: millennialchristian.com

It can be a crime leading to a decade in jail.

The Iranian government uses the Internet to censor and monitor activists and to enforce official religious interpretations.

Surveillance cameras watch Catholic churches.

They're looking for Muslims going into Christian churches, Iranian-born journalist Sohrab Ahmari says.

Ahmari, who is a US-based Christian convert, says there are limits on what Catholic schools in Iran are allowed to teach.

"In Iran, Catholicism is primarily an ethnic phenomenon. There are Armenian Catholics and Assyrian.

"They have their own churches, but they can't evangelise and they can't have Bibles in any languages but their own."

Ahmari says the Iranian Constitution enshrines Shiite Islam as the state religion. About 99 percent of Iranians are Shiite Muslims.

Jews and Christians have some limited rights, "but they also have all sorts of social handicaps," Ahmari explains.

"The treatment gets far worse for groups that the regime does not recognise as legitimate," he says.

This includes evangelical Christianity and the Baha'i religion.

A section of the US Commission on International Religious Freedom's (USCIRF) 2018 report concerns Iran.

It says religious freedom in Iran has "continued to deteriorate for both recognised and unrecognised religious groups, with the government targeting Baha'is and Christian converts in particular."

After facing trial as apostates, Christian converts from Islam have been subject to increasingly harsh sentencing.

Many are sentenced "to at least 10 years in prison for their religious activities."

In May 2017, four evangelical Christians were sentenced to 10 years in prison each for their evangelising efforts.

The Christians include a pastor who was initially sentenced to death.

Three of the Chrisitans have also been sentenced to receive 80 lashes each for drinking wine during a communion service. They have appealed the sentence.

In addition, based on the conviction that their church received money from the British government, two of the Christians could face an additional two-year term of imprisonment.

Religious freedom and human rights were the focus of Pope Francis's meeting with Iranian president Hassan Rouhani at the Vatican in January 2016.

Source

• Catholic News Agency
• Christian Post
• Image: Radio Farda

Palestinian Orthodox Christians limited their celebrations on Palm Sunday, restricting the occasion to religious rituals to mourn the deaths of 17 Gazans killed in a protest.

The deadly "Land Day" demonstration at the Israeli border on March 30 also left 1,400 people wounded. Read more

After the Reformation, deep divisions between Protestants and Catholics contributed to wars, hostility and violence in Europe and America.

For centuries, each side denounced the other and sought to convert its followers.

Then, in the early 1900s, ambitious Protestants in the U.S. attempted the unthinkable.

Building on ideas circulating in Europe, they took charge of an effort to negotiate the reunion of Christianity.

They failed, of course. Strange as it might now seem, their effort is nevertheless informative. Here's why.

How it started
By 1900, atheists and agnostics were becoming more prominent in the U.S. Anxious Protestant religious leaders started to argue in favor of a united Christianity to stop the spread of these ideas.

Noted theologian and fellow at Yale Newman Smyth complained at the time about religion's "lost authority" in family, community and intellectual life.

He declared, "a Christianity divided in its own house against itself" could not survive.

In response, in 1910, a very small but highly influential group comprising theologians including Smyth, as well as ministers of prestigious churches and noted business professionals, committed themselves to "Christian unity."

For this group, unity meant more than cooperation or mutual understanding. It meant the actual reunion of Protestantism and Catholicism.

The influential WWI chaplain

Their most significant member was Charles Brent, an Episcopalian bishop.

In the early 1900s, Brent had been a missionary to the Philippines.

While there, he became friends with John Pershing, the army officer overseeing much of the territory acquired by the U.S. This friendship would propel the bishop to greater prominence.

When the United States entered World War I in 1917, Pershing took command of U.S. forces in Europe. He persuaded Brent to organize and lead the newly established corps of army chaplains.

As he built up the ranks of chaplains, Brent showed his own commitment to Christian unity. Though a Protestant, he made a Catholic priest his second in command and encouraged recruitment of Catholic chaplains. Continue reading

Sources

• The Conversation, article by David Mislin, Assistant Professor, Intellectual Heritage Program, Temple University, Pennsylvania
• Image: The Catholic Catalogue

According to Open Doors USA the pastor was talking about a church event involving feeding the people who were still in the city and sharing the Gospel to those who were there.

"And as he's preparing to do it, he and the other pastor saw a Muslim extremist man with a beard without a moustache, which is an indication of a more fundamental, extremist Muslim, so they were concerned. Read more

It is now more than two months since they were forced to take refuge at St Peter Claver cathedral in the town of Bangassou after attacks by the mostly Christian anti-Balaka militia. Read more