The God dilemma
Is God’s influence waning in New Zealand? Carly Thomas looks at the role of religion in the first of a series examining the big questions.
About 150 years ago, to be a Kiwi also meant to be a Christian. In the 1853 census – the country’s first – 93 per cent of New Zealanders classified themselves Christian. By the latest census, in 2013, the proportion of Kiwis affiliating with Christianity had dropped to 48 per cent – a number that has been declining since the ’60s. Last month, House Speaker Trevor Mallard removed reference to Jesus Christ from Parliament’s karakia, or prayer.
So, can we still realistically refer to New Zealand as Godzone?
Ask Cary Centre for Lifelong Learning director Mike Crudge if the church is dying in New Zealand and he will say don’t believe the hype.
Crudge, a theologian and communications expert, dismisses the census figures, arguing the numbers to pay attention to are those showing regular church attendance.
In 1853, that was about 30 per cent, and in 2013 it was 10 per cent – where it has remained. Churchgoers have never been the majority.
If the church can maintain regular attendees at 10 per cent of the population, congregations will increase as the population rises, an optimistic Crudge reckons.
But the church is still facing a crisis in New Zealand in the way it is viewed by wider society and he believes the way the church communicates its message needs to change.
A small but vocal element among the believers see liberal law reform as driving society down a slippery slope. It is a group that has wagged a finger at social advancements such as the legalisation of homosexuality, the smacking ban and same-sex marriage, Crudge says.
‘‘The perceptions of the church by those not part of it have become negative. Things like it’s oppressive, it’s against women, and gays. People think there is a lack of integrity, and for the church to change that perception, I think Christian people, like myself, need to be involved in transformation in their own neighbourhood. That’s what the story of Jesus is, it’s a story of transforming people’s lives.’’
There are some other things Christians can do to shake the negative image, he says, among them: being kind, and sharing wealth. However, such changes could take time and ‘‘flashy new church buildings and services that look like they hold rock concerts’’ are not the way to shift the perceptions.
‘‘For us to have a public voice and expect that the whole country would set their moral code on this small minority, I just think that is the wrong way to win friends and influence people.
‘‘Maybe 100 years ago when the framework of society was more Christian, but not now.’’
He believes religion, like politics, is one of those things we are told shouldn’t be talked about.
But there needs to be conversations, accompanied by actions, if Christians are to change the way they, and God, are viewed in New Zealand, Crudge says.
Plug the word God into Google image search and up pop pictures of a white man with a hipster beard, alongside images of Jay-Z and Donald Trump.
Those who consider themselves non-religious don’t necessarily consider themselves as not having beliefs. Belief has become personalised, social anthropologist Susan Wardell says.
‘‘People like to say, ‘I’m spiritual, not religious’. I don’t think that it is necessarily a huge shift in people’s experience of being religious, it’s more the meaning and the weight of the word and what people are comfortable with.’’
A modern disconnect between modern life and church is translating into other forms of worship, whether that be on the yoga mat, in a self-help book or finding God within.
Wardell says that although many Kiwis are finding other things to do on a Sunday than publicly share in their faith, the idea of having beliefs is not reducing.
We just don’t all want to do it in an institutionalised way like we used to.
Others have to grapple with the religion and church they grew up in and around as they make choices that don’t fit in with the teachings.
Alexandra Saunders is one of those people.
She has stepped away – not from her beliefs as an Anglican – but from a church which would not let her marry her same-sex partner, Sara Rimmer, within its walls.
Saunders and Rimmer were both brought up in religious families, and Saunders says it felt right to be married ‘‘under God’’.
She was saddened but not surprised by the church’s stance, and says it is time for change.
‘‘Religion needs to wake up and recognise that their place in society is still valued, but it has to change. The church used to be the hub of the town and now it’s not and if it wants to be again it has to be what the town wants it to be. Religion has always changed, I mean, there is a whole New Testament. It needs to be updated and re-jigged all the time.’’
Saunders and Rimmer eventually got their church wedding at St Paul’s in Wellington. It’s not officially a church any more. It is run by Heritage New Zealand, but it was never deconsecrated. Saunders says her wedding day was everything she could have hoped for.
Actions such as challenging the couple’s desire to marry in a church are undermining Christianity in New Zealand, says historian Peter Lineham.
The Massey University professor, who knows first-hand the challenges of being gay and Christian, has kept his finger on the waning pulse of religion in New Zealand. He’s intrigued with the way things are going and predicts unstable times ahead.
‘‘The public support for religion has just vanished, the church’s profile in the media is very low, things like the prayer in Parliament being debated just shows that religion is dispensable.’’
Councils, too, are acknowledging the changes. A soldout stadium tour by the cherubic popstar Ed Sheeran convinced Dunedin City Council to relax its Easter trading laws to accommodate the tens of thousands of fans who will be in town.
Meanwhile immigrants bring their own beliefs, and Islam is growing.
Lineham says this is in part to do with a shift towards sectarianism and people seeking out religions that are more distinctive.
Ian Gordon, a director at grassroots Buddhist network SGI, says the number of people coming to the organisation is increasing. But that doesn’t necessarily mean Buddhism is on the rise, he says.
‘‘It is not by what a person says on a form which indicates if a person is a Buddhist. It is through their language, behaviour and thoughts. We can’t see all of that,’’ Gordon says.
‘‘The question is what they do when they leave church. People need to ask themselves every day what their values are, and what they are doing.’’
His views were echoed by Hazim Arafeh, the president of the Federation of Islamic Association in New Zealand, when discussing God’s place in modern-day New Zealand, and how much support there was for all religion.
‘‘It’s not an easy answer. We can’t see what people are doing day in, day out,’’ Arafeh says.
Like Gordon, Arafeh says actions speak louder than words.
‘‘As Muslims we believe in God and we turn our face to him every day.’’
Hirini Kaa, a historian and Anglican minister, says the shoving away of the four-walls approach to religion has helped give rise to a ‘‘Maori renaissance’’.
It’s a move back to the time before missionaries came to New Zealand, ‘‘a pre-contact expression of spirituality’’.
‘‘I think there is potential for growth that cares less about the need for a denomination and will become more centred on the community. The Maori ministers were there for their community but the Pakeha that ran the denominations had other things in mind. It’s been a struggle and I think it will be less so in the future.’’
To be Maori, says Kaa, is to acknowledge there is more than the material. So for Maoridom, organised religion may be falling away, but there remains a strong belief and a deep connection to the land.
There’s no doubt we are questioning our belief systems like never before. Institutionalised religion is no longer our go-to; more and more New Zealanders are finding that sitting in the middle of a fence just isn’t that comfortable anymore.