“The churches were silent when we needed them”

By Joe Couto and ChristianWeek | February 1, 2008

The Canadian Church faces plenty of challenges: impending schism for Canadian Anglicans, empty churches in Quebec, a triumphant secularism and the privatization of faith, to name just a few.

But they pale in comparison to what the church faces in other parts of the world.

In the aftermath of bloodshed following Kenyan presidential elections, these words by respected Kenyan columnist Gakuu should cut through even the most optimistic Christian heart: "The churches were silent when we really needed them. So for a day of prayer to come now, they are behaving like coroners."

How is it that Christian churches in Kenya—where Protestant and Catholic leaders have traditionally been respected voices—suddenly found themselves not only marginalized but attacked for either being partisan or simply not caring?

Africa has always struggled with democracy. The legacy of colonialism and ideological struggles has been war, environmental disaster, epidemics (including AIDS), crime and unbelievable poverty. While Christians and other faith groups share some of the blame for the ills of Africa today, churches have traditionally held a place of respect as both moral voices and drivers of social change in much of the continent.

It should hurt us in Canada to see church leaders in Kenya castigated for being on the sidelines just when Kenyans needed them most.

"We are a bit more harsh on our church leaders because they are precisely the ones who are supposed to stick out their necks on questions of justice and honesty. That is their mission. And they failed us," Gakuu wrote.

Unfortunately, some Kenyan religious leaders decided that rather than being the non-partisan, moral voice Kenya needed, they would play politics. In the run-up to the presidential election, some Christian church leaders chose to counter what they perceived as opposition leader Oding's alliance with Kenya's Muslim minority by backing President Kibaki. Is it any wonder, then, that voices of faith were drowned out in bloodshed?

The events in Kenya illustrate clearly what happens when churches either abdicate their role as both agents of social change and the conscience of a nation or engage in partisan politics.

In Canada faith leaders are largely absent from the nation's consciousness because they have never found a common voice to counter the comfortable secularism. Secularists have convinced most Canadians that they can separate their "private" spiritual beliefs from their "public" lives. As most Canadians accept their duality as not only legitimate but desirable, the role of the church and faith has been sequestered from the public life—often keeping unacceptable forms of personal behavior hidden from the community.

Is it any wonder that while Christians, Muslims, Jews and others work hard to be heard in debates ranging from the economy to climate change to same-sex marriage, their influence is minimal at best where it counts—in the corridors of power, within our courts and in media?

When was the last time a Canadian religious leader or group actually drove rather than reacted to a public issue? Who has any sway with society's power brokers? Unless it's some religious denomination being sued, a cleric being exposed as a fraud or churches splitting or fighting over same-sex marriage, when are churches the subjects of conversation around the nation's water coolers?

Fundamentally, nations are built on social contracts between individuals. Citizens agree to collectively live under laws developed by fellow citizens they elect or appoint to positions of leadership. Corporate leaders or opinion makers in the media should earn their leadership positions.

While legal statutes or forms of social conducts are the work of human hands and minds, what gives them power is their moral and ethical foundation. What we believe—the heart behind the rules—is as important as what the rules say.

But what happens when faith is absent as societies are built? What is right and wrong when we believe in one thing today but deny it the next? What exactly defines us as a people, as a nation—CBC, Don Cherry or Tim Hortons coffee?

As Kenyans are discovering, when the Church loses its place in a nation the void isn't filled by secularist good intentions. It's filled by the forces of selfishness and greed. Without the voices of faith churches become funeral homes and faith leaders coroners watching societal meltdowns. God help us.