The following paper was delivered by Daniel Matthys at the Dawson Society’s Speaker’s Forum event on the 03/12/2024.
A Tale of Two Chapels
Overlooking the port city of Fremantle are the limestone walls of a convict-built prison. Fremantle Prison dates to the 1850s and was used first as a convict establishment for the criminals of Britain and Ireland that were brought to Australia to build and populate the colony. Later the buildings served as a maximum-security prison until its closure in 1991. Today the buildings are a museum. Housed in the prison complex are the main cellblocks, a woman’s prison, workshops, gallows and not one, but two, chapels.
The first of these chapels protrudes prominently from the centre of the main cellblock. In contrast to the cells that housed first convicts and later prisoners, the building is airy and light. The high ceilings have been well utilised to display a mural of the Ten Commandments. Notably the sixth commandment is translated “You shall do no murder” instead of the more typical translation “Thou shall not kill” to better account for the gallows which operated on the site up until the final execution in Western Australia in 1964. The windows of the chapel, the only windows in the building without bars, overlook the main prison gate and free life in the new colony.
The design of this first chapel is integral to purpose of the prison, rehabilitation through work and religion. The chapel’s prominence in the architecture of the prison is representative of the role religion was expected to play within the British establishment. It reflects an understanding of religion as indispensable to the State for the maintenance of a law-abiding citizenry and a cohesive society. The salvation of souls, one is tempted to (cynically) presume, was a secondary concern.
This first chapel, a chapel of the Church of England, was at the time of the prison’s construction the only chapel existing within Fremantle Prison. Yet from early in the prison’s history, there were calls for a second chapel to provide a place of religious worship for the Roman Catholics among the convict population. Though prison authorities were initially reluctant to provide a second space for worship, continual pressure from Catholic colonists and convicts resulted in the permanent conversion of a space within the cellblock’s wings to a Catholic chapel.
The Catholic chapel is not as spectacular a room as its Anglican counterpart. It lacks the light, the symbolism of the unbarred windows, and its position within the building is not as prominent. Yet the chapel is well decorated with murals of the Sacred Heart and the Blessed Virgin and it avoids the claustrophobia that haunts the rest of the cellblock building. The present murals date to the 1960s (restored in 1993) but it is speculated that behind them may lie the work of James Walsh a convict who served time in the 1860s and in whose cell is preserved sketches, many ecclesiastical in nature.
I begin with this reflection of the two chapels at Fremantle Prison because in these two chapels we can see represented some early currents of Christian politics in Australia. The premise of this talk is that we are in an era of transition where the mode of Christian politics of the past 50 years no longer serves the communities in which Christians find themselves today.
And in the context of this transition, a survey of the Christian politics of the more distant past is helpful to understanding why the politics of the immediate past is inadequate for contemporary challenges.
I will return to the two chapels and what they represent in a moment but before I do, it in necessary to establish first exactly what I mean by “Christian politics” and what the goal of this Christian politics might be.
What is a Christian Politics?
Politics is a dirty word. Thus, Christian politics is a thing suspect at best and contaminated at worst (I will leave it to my listeners to decide whether the dirt of politics contaminates Christianity or vice versa). Or at least this seems to be the case when the form of politics being discussed is that of governance, legislation, and political power. But the term politics can, or was originally (in its Aristotelian usage), understood more much broadly. In this usage, politics, is nothing more (or less) than the art of living in relation to and within a community. It pertains to how we govern or organise (however loosely) our public interactions, that is interactions with our communities above the level of the household.
This politics is an art that is local and immediate. We practice it when we choose how we spend, how we invest, how we educate our children. When we choose a career path or start a business, when we volunteer our time, or when we join or create a club or society, when we organise ways to socialise or to date, we are practicing politics. This politics is intricately bound to Christianity which by its very nature communal[i] and concerned with the wellbeing of one’s neighbour[ii]. This is neither an addition to, nor a corruption of, Christianity for, as “faith by itself, if it has no works, is dead” (James 2:17) and as what we do to “the least of these” we do to Jesus himself (Matthew 24:40), our actions towards our neighbours are integral to what it means to be a Christian.
The term Christian politics, at least as it is understood above, should not be concerned first with elections, political parties, or even legislation but with our own public actions and the societies, small and local though this might be, that they help to create. While it is certainly true that we practice politics when we interact with the structures of formal government (through voting, petitioning, protesting etc.), I am suggesting that these forms of politics are overall less impactful than we often presume. This is a point that I will return to later.
The goal of a Christian politics, ought to be to create a society oriented towards the common good. This is accomplished in two ways. The first and most obvious is in doing what is good. But the second, and the goal I want to focus on tonight, is to construct a society where it is easier for others to do good. Now, there will doubtless be times and places when the actions of Christians might need to be heroically virtuous, unsupported by societal norms or mores. Yet, in charity to the weaknesses of our neighbours, the Christian must be called to create communities where it is easier to do good.
Christians, in other words, ought to remember the rebuke given by Jesus against the pharisees that “They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on the shoulders of others; but they themselves are unwilling to lift a finger to move them.” (Matthew 23:4) The rebuke here is less focused on the laying of the burden (indeed Jesus prefaces this condemnation with a command to his followers to obey the dictates of the pharisees) but on the failure of the pharisees to make easy (or easier) the carrying of these burdens.
Christians should very seriously consider not only how the truth is proclaimed but also how the truth might be made easy to follow. Therefore, the goal of Christian politics, or public actions if you will, ought to be on lightening the burden so that the “yoke is easy and … burden light” (Matthew 11:30).
Early currents of Christian Politics in Australia: Sectarianism and Catholic integration
Returning to the two chapels in Fremantle prison and the currents they represent for early Christian politics, the first and most obvious lesson from these two chapels is the sectarianism that marked Christianity in Australia at the start of colonisation.
Australia, it must be remembered, was colonised by Britian during an era where Catholics in both the United Kingdom and Ireland faced significant political and social disadvantages. Indeed, while the process of political emancipation for Catholics was already somewhat underway, The Catholic Relief Act of 1829 which removed significant barriers for Catholics in Britain did not occur until 40 years after Australia was colonised.
British authorities blocked a Catholic clerical presence in Australia until 1820 and the Church of England was the established church of the new colony until 1836.
More significant than formal legal barriers to Catholics was the cultural and social prejudice of the era which persisted well into the 20th century. For the Catholic Church therefore, one of the early priorities was creating a place for Catholics within Australian society and extension of freedom of religion and civil rights to Catholics in Australia.
The Catholic chapel in Fremantle prison and the agitation that made this possible was one such example. This also was the rationale behind organisations such as the Knights of the Southern Cross, part of whose founding purpose was the overcoming of anti-Catholic prejudice in practical ways such as the finding of employment for Catholics in an era when employers were able to (and did) discriminate in their hiring on the grounds of religion.
These efforts against sectarianism and for the acceptance of Catholics socially (or at least arrangements for Catholics to be able to pursue gainful employment and social integration in spite of prejudices against them) meet the goal we have earlier discussed for Christian politics, creating a society where it is easier to be good.
The (originally political, later cultural) preferment of the Church of England in Australia stood as a temptation for Catholics to subordinate their religious convictions to social advancement. Thus, one of the tasks of Catholics in Australia was to mitigate this temptation by insisting on the political rights of Catholics at a governmental level and ensuring at a local level that their fellow Catholics were properly supported with social and material opportunities.
Early currents of Christian Politics in Australia: Corporal and Spiritual Works of Mercy
There is another current in early Christian politics that is represented in the two chapels at Fremantle Prison. And this is the Christian duty to perform works of mercy. This duty is most vividly represented in the Parable of the Sheep and the Goats in Matthew 25 where those who fail to perform works of mercy are cast into the “eternal fire”.
Obviously, the duty to visit the prisoner is most relevant to the chapel at Fremantle Prison. Yet other works of mercy have not been neglected by Australian Christians. Indeed, at many points in Australian history, Christian institutions have been the sole providers of healthcare, education, or charity for the poor.
It speaks to the significance of Christians in providing acts of mercy, I think, that Australia’s only canonised Saint, Mary of the Cross, Mackillop, was the founder of the Josephite Order which founded schools across Australia for the education of poor children. It bears stressing that without the Josephites (and other religious orders devoted to education, to say nothing of the establishment of hospitals or other social works) there would have been little other provision for education, healthcare, or charity for many early Australians.
These institutions, which for Catholics (until the collapse in vocations in the 1960s and 70s) primarily relied on religious orders, fulfill the goal of Christian politics we have earlier discussed. They made it easier to do good not only for those who were called to a religious vocation to serve in the schools, hospitals or soup kitchens, but also for the laity who in supporting the works of the religious orders supported also the works of mercy these orders provided for their communities.
Early currents of Christian Politics in Australia: Provision of the Sacraments
The final priority for Christian politics that might be taken from in the story of the two chapels in Fremantle Prison is also fairly obvious. This is the provisions made for the practice of religion. And for Catholics, the practice of religion is bound first and foremost (though not exclusively) with the provision of the sacraments.
As we can see in the example of the chapels in Fremantle Prison, the availability of sacraments cannot always be taken for granted. This is true even of modern Australia to say nothing of countries around the world. But, as Catholics believe that grace is provided through the sacraments, and, as grace is an indispensable requirement to do good, ensuring that religious practice and the sacraments are available to our communities must be a priority for Christian politics.
I will have more to say on this point later.
Interim summary
In summary however, we have established that politics is much more than participation in formal governing structures. We have defined an overarching goal for Christian politics, to create a society where it is easier to do good. And we have seen how this project of Christian politics began in Australia with the three more specific goals or currents of (1) combating or reducing the harms of anti-Catholic prejudice, (2) providing works of mercy, and (3) ensuring that Catholics are able to practice their religion through the provision in particular of the sacraments.[iii]
It is worth restating here that while these goals were occasionally pursued through governments, elections, and policy, they were more often accomplished through the public actions of private individuals (or individuals who did not hold public office). Associations like the Knights of the Southern Cross worked with Catholic businesspeople to provide employment and opportunities for Catholic workers. Social groups and parishes ensured that Catholics might have social and dating opportunities and along with other forms of communal support. The works of mercy were accomplished through schools, hospitals and charities which were often founded without government involvement or support.
The Catholic chapel in Fremantle Prison is a good example as while it required Catholic colonists to petition the government of the colony, the funds for the chapel and the staffing of priests for the chapel were provided by regular, ‘private’ individuals.
Triumph and Change: the 1960s and 1970s
We will leave Fremantle Prison and the 19th century and fast-forward to the middle of the twentieth. For our Christian politics take a radical turn in the 1960s and 70s (which here as in so much else truly were a decades of change).
As we have seen Australia’s early history was marked by sectarianism and prejudice against Catholics and much of the energy of early Catholic colonists was spent fighting for the political and social rights of their co-religious. Yet by the 1960s and 70s the fight against this sectarianism was largely concluded and largely successful. I will nuance this statement by acknowledging that it is of course impossible to set a fixed date on these historical trends and that anti-Christian or anti-Catholic sentiment doubtlessly persists in contemporary Australia, however a number of events in the 1960s and 70s neatly symbolise the end of the sectarianism as a force in Australian society.
The first of these events occurs not in Australia but in the wider Anglo-sphere being the election in 1961 of John F. Kennedy to the President of the United States, the first Catholic to hold that office. For many in Australia the election of JFK, in a nation that, like Australia had traditionally viewed Catholics with suspicion and prejudice represented a moment of transition where Catholics were acknowledged as fellow and equal citizens unburdened by questions of dual loyalties.
Closer to home, the decision in 1963 by the Menzies government to provide federal funding to Catholic schools similarly represented an increasing acceptance of Catholics by the wider Australian society. Federal funds for Catholic schools had been banned in the 1880s but the Menzie’s Government’s decision was later adopted by the Whitlam government making this a bipartisan policy.
Likewise too, the collapse in vote for the Democratic Labour Party (which for most of the 1950s and 60s had served as a unofficial ‘Catholic’ party in parliament) essentially meant the reintegration of Catholic politicians and voters into the two major parties as the Catholic hierarchy signalled that lay Catholics were free to make up their minds on which political party best represented their interests and old prejudices gradually dissolved.
The decision to provide federal funds to Catholic schools along with the 1974 establishment of universal health insurance and the gradual creation and expansion of a welfare state in the 60s and 70s also significantly impacts on the second current of a Christian politics which we identified, the provision of works of mercy.
Indeed, I will suggest that religious hospitals and charities begin in these decades to suffer an identity crisis as their original mission was supplanted by government aid. Catholic healthcare in particular undergoes almost a complete evolution from its origins as a means of relief for the poor or those who would otherwise be unable to receive treatment to its current position as a “luxury” product for those who are able to afford private health insurance.
Catholic schools and education institutions suffer a similar crisis in identity from the 1970s onward and indeed complete a similar evolution but for different reasons. As Catholic education exists firstly to provide religious instruction, it has always been distinct from the free and secular education that had been offered by Australia’s state governments beginning in the late 19th century.
Instead, the crisis of identity for Catholic schooling has little to do with governmental policy and much more to do with changes in religious affiliation in Australian society. As the decades since the 1960s has seen decreasing religious practice and increasing secularism, it has become more obvious (even if only anecdotally so) that parents’ desire for religious instruction alone would no longer fill the classrooms of Catholic schools.
Thus, many (though not all) religious schools, market themselves as a ‘luxury’ alternatives to government schools either through their facilities, results, or extra-curricular programs.
But ultimately, the success of Catholics at achieving integration in Australian society and the increased role of governments in financing or providing what Catholics would call ‘works of mercy’ essentially led to a new era in Christian politics with new priorities which we will examine now.
Culture war and defeat
The 1970s were also a decade where new battle lines were drawn in what would become known as the culture war. In Australia the oral contraceptive pill became available in 1961 and was placed on the pharmaceutical benefits scheme in 1972. Abortion essentially became widely available in the late 1960s. No fault divorce was legalised in 1975. And Australia’s obscenity laws were radically overhauled in 1972. Since the 1970s euthanasia and the redefinition of marriage have both become pertinent issues for Christians, as in recent years has gender. Arguably these, and other ‘life issues’, are what most commonly comes to mind when discussing Christians or Catholics and politics.
There are other, more traditionally left-wing, social issues that are also strongly identified with Christianity including the rights of workers and advocacy for vulnerable groups like refugees and the poor.
It is this association of Christian politics with particular social issues that I believe has reached an inflection point that requires a radical rethinking of how Christians ought to engage with politics.
This is for two reasons. The first is straightforward and I think fairly indisputable, though perhaps not easy to hear. That is that conservatives who have fought these social changes that have come about since the 1970s have lost every major fight they have picked and (save for the miraculous) there appears, to me at least, to be no path to undoing any of these changes in the short or medium term.[iv]
Now, I do want to be nuanced here. A lot of attention is given to how these issues play out at the level of elections, politicians and legislation, however, I do want to acknowledge that Christians have also been active in founding and running crisis centres, providing legal advice, marriage counselling and a host of other activities that fit neatly into the broader definition of politics we have discussed. I am not critiquing these avenues of Christian action.
Nor am I suggesting that politicians, voters, or those called to a career in politics, cease to speak out about or refrain from trying to legislate reform on this issues.
But it seems to me that, at least as far as these social issues are concerned, we are unable to legislate our way into a society where it is easier to be good.
And this brings me to the second reason why Christians must rethink their engagement with these social issues. This is that in the 50 years since the 1960s, our culture itself has shifted to become profoundly less Christian, indeed to become arguably a post-Christian.
The numbers on religious attendance, beliefs etc. are very clear. And, while I do not have the time to go through them tonight, those who were able to attend our previous Speaker’s Forum, will appreciate the current (and likely future) state of play.
Were it even possible to legislate change on the social issues I have outlined, the majority (silent or otherwise) would reject the attempts to change what has ultimately come to be taken for granted. We need, in other words, to accept that we lost the culture war.
It seems to me that the politics of the past 50ish years has proceeded under the assumptions that Australian society is essentially Christian and therefore duties of a good citizen (paying taxes, following laws, voting etc.) more or less overlap with the duties of a good Christian.
But this is no longer the case, if indeed it ever was. And the more our culture departs from Christianity, the sooner we need to recognise and response to new challengers that this brings. It is to this point that I turn now.
Current (and future) challenges: Smaller family sizes and dual income households
The movement of our culture towards post-Christianity comes with a number of implications for Christians. Here I will look at three specific challenges that a post-Christian society brings. Two of these challenges are immediate. They are the results of widespread change in cultural norms that have already been accepted for a number of years. The third challenge, I believe is of future concern.
As we have already discussed the 1960s and 70s introduced radical change in both family planning and the role of women in the workforce. These changes did not of course have immediate revolutionary effect. Social changes often take a couple of generations to fully cement as older generations continue to organise themselves and their household much as they ever did while younger generations adopt the changes that gradually come to define society. In 2024 however we can start to draw certain conclusions concerning the culture these changes have made.
Before I do so however, I would like to make a plea for nuance. It will be possible to take some of what I discuss here and make the case for a return to the gender norms of the 1950s. I do not want to make this argument, and I am not making this argument.
Indeed, much of what I am basing this section on comes from a book titled The Two Income Trap by Elizabeth Warren and her daughter Amelia Warren Tyag first published in 2004 and reissued in 2016. For those who are unaware, Elizabeth Warren is a United States Senator and a Progressive Democrat. She is certainly no advocate of a traditional Christian life or society but is honest and open enough to examine some of the social consequences of declining family sizes and the rise in dual income households. Her conclusions are of particular relevance to Christians who would try to create a society where it is easier to do good as we shall see.
To understand the premise in The Two Income Trap one must first understand that, economically speaking, there is always some level of competition between households in a society. We are fortunate to live in a time and place where households are not obviously in competition for necessities such as food or water, but other necessities are by their nature more limited and therefore attract more competition.
This is particularly the case for housing and education. For, while it is certainly possible to build more houses, in real estate, as the saying goes, it is all about ‘location, location, location’. And houses in a desirable location, closer to the CBD, near public amenities and public transport etc. are inherently a limited good. When families come to purchase the family home therefore, they are in competition with other families also chasing their ideal home.
A similar phenomenon also occurs in education, for while new schools can always be built and staffed, many parents will sacrifice to enrol their children in an institution with a good reputation and a proven track record. Schools that enjoy these, are also a limited good and therefore parents are in competition with other parents for limited spots.
As more women joined the workforce in the 1980s and 1990s, these newly dual income households had new ammunition with which they might outcompete and out bid their single-income counterparts, Mum’s salary. And while it would doubtless be too simplistic to attribute the rise in private tuition and housing prices to dual-income families alone, Warren’s research indicates a strong correlation between the two trends.
The growth in house prices and private school fees have both outstripped growth in wages over the course of my lifetime (I am 33). As a consequence, many families can no longer afford to subsist on a single salary. To remain competitive in the housing and education markets (to name just a couple) they must maintain a dual income.
Women entering the workforce was, and still is, promoted as a matter of individual choice and freedom. But, the unintended consequence of dual income households is that it has become a lot harder to choose to maintain a single-income household. What was a norm in the 1970s has become priced as a luxury for many families in 2024.
Family sizes obviously also suffer as a consequence. For even with the availability of paid maternity leave and subsidised childcare, having a child probably necessitates some sacrificed income for most couples.
This then is the two-income trap referenced in Warren’s title where not even dual income household’s benefit from two wage owners as the cost of necessities inevitably rise. Indeed, paradoxically, Warren’s research found that the average single-income household in the 1970s had more disposable income that its dual-income counterpart in the 2000s.[v]
It is important to realise that the normalisation of dual-income households is not solely the result of government policy or legislation. There were genuine economic benefits for the early adopters of dual-incomes before housing or education costs could rise in response. Nor am I suggesting that economic benefits are the only motivation to enter the workforce.
But government policy can (and does) exacerbate this situation for single-income households. Warren points towards policies like child-care subsidies which by saving dual-income families expenses in childcare, free this income to go towards cost like the mortgage that further boosts prices.
What then does this mean for Christians, and more specifically Christian families? The Catechism of the Catholic Church maintains that “Sacred Scripture and the Church’s traditional practice see in large families a sign of God’s blessing and the parents’ generosity.”[vi] And while the Church’s teaching is far more nuanced than requiring Catholics to all have as many children as they can possibly support, it does ask that parents be generous approaching the duty of procreation.
As we have seen, the shift in Australian culture over the past 50 years has not made it easier for parents to embrace a large family and, as society moves further from Christianity, the burden placed on Christian families is likely only to increase.
Current (and future) challenges: Burials
The movement towards a less Christian culture has its implications for the end of life as well.
Before 1963 Catholics, and indeed most Christians, practiced burial. Cremations were not permitted for Catholics and indeed were largely uncommon in Australia. And while the Catholic Church has relaxed its stance on cremations, many traditional Catholics and other traditional Christians prefer burial.
But burials are becoming far less common in Australian society. Currently around 70% of Australians are cremated with only 30% buried.
And costs associated with funeral services have risen significantly. According to a report commissioned in 2019 by Australian Seniors[vii], costs of basic funeral services have risen between 6 and 11% annually over the past decade. And burials attract a significant premium. Across Australia, the most basic funeral averages around $8000 for burial and $3000 for cremation.
No doubt some of this cost difference might be accounted for in terms of the differences in the service provided. Yet I would suggest that, as cremations have become the norm, government policy, including regulations, cemetery plots etc, has begun to price burial as a luxury commodity.
Certainly, this was of concern in New South Wales where in 2021, the state government attempted to dissolve the Catholic Metropolitan Cemetery Trust and other religious groups that oversaw the running of large parts of Sydney’s cemeteries. Jewish and Muslim groups joined with the Catholic Trust to express their concerns that government policy would privilege cremations over burials with the purpose of minimising the land required for burials.
Now there some substantive differences between the challenge of being generous in having children and the challenge of paying for a burial. Most notably, of course, is that for Catholics cremation is legitimate meaning the expense of burials do not inherently create a society where it is difficult to do good.
Yet I have included this discussion for the pattern we might be able to observe as Australian society become less Christian. Unlike totalitarian societies, the Christian way of life is not made illegal, one can still have a large family and be buried when one dies, but as these choices become less common, they also begin to be priced as luxury goods. This is not a conspiracy, society, governments, and the economy naturally cater to the majority, but this is a challenge for the Christian who must live their lives at increased cost and with an increasing burden to do what is good.
Current (and future) challenges: Aged-care and death
This pattern of what is once the norm becoming a luxury, is also of significant concern when we consider the voluntary assisted dying legislation that has been passed in all states in Australia.
God willing, euthanasia may remain a relatively rare choice for Australians into the future, however the experience of countries like Canada suggest that euthanasia has the potential to become a common – perhaps even the most common – death in old age.
Were this to happen, it could hold significant ramifications for aged and end of life care. The Royal Commission into Aged Care already indicates that adequate aged-care in Australia is somewhat of a luxury product with an associated luxury price-tag. Were euthanasia the normalised treatment for conditions like dementia, the possible implication is that care we currently hold to be standard becomes less common and more expensive.
Social change tends to occur first slowly, then all at once. As birthrates worldwide shrink, and as the baby-boomers enter their last decades, I expect that aged and end-of-life care will become increasingly prescient political concerns. And I do not think it too early to begin to consider this area and the challenges it is likely to bring in our own lifetimes.
Current (and future) challenges: Summary
If Christians have operated publicly for the past 50 years under the assumption that society is fundamentally Christian (though needing reform and conversion on specific social issues), it is time in 2024 to put this assumption to bed.
We have seen how shifts in Australian culture have made it harder for parents to consider having large families and how traditional Christian burial customs are much more expensive than the new standard options. I have further suggested that future challenges in aged and end of life care are on the horizon.
These are but three examples. Were I not limited for time I could have also explored how dating and marriage have also become increasingly post-Christian as have many fields of employment along with investments and superannuation. These and other challenges are only likely to multiply over the next few decades. And these challenges will only make it more difficult to live a faithful Christian life and to attract other to this life.
The risk here is that a Christian life, faithful to the teachings of the Church, becomes a privilege reserved only for families of sufficient income, or the upper-middle class.
So, and returning to the overarching goal of Christian politics, what can we do about this? How can we, in Perth, Australia, in 2024 help to construct a society where it is easier to do good?
A call for conversation (and action)
I will begin by acknowledging that I don’t necessarily have the answers to this problem. But this is actually okay. I don’t need any answers, bar those which are specific to my own community and vocation. How a society where it is easier to be good is created in different communities ought to be decided by and specific to these parishes and local communities.
But whatever solutions might be found, we need to begin with acknowledging the problem. Our society is becoming post-Christian and we, and our fellow Christians, are going to need more support if we want to make it easier to do good.
I will suggest however that we might need to return to some of those early currents we discussed in relation to the two chapels of Fremantle. The Catholics among the early Australian colonists, recognised that they were a minority in a society that would not necessarily assist them in following their faith or living a good life. They understood that their obligations to care for the sick, to educate their children, to provide for the needy, would only be met were they to create and maintain the institutions needed for these social roles.
I am not suggesting that the path forward ought to replicate exactly what has come before. But I am suggesting that where the last 50 years has not worked, lessons from earlier in our tradition (which doubtless need to be applied to contemporary circumstances) might prove to be useful.
And there is opportunity as well in all of this. If we can remain faithful Christians, and if we can make it easier for other to life as faithful Christians, we could offer society an obvious and (hopefully) compelling alternative.
How powerful might it be if were said of Christians that they care for their old, that their children can afford homes without usurious loans, that they can place family life (not work) at the centre of their lives, that their places of work serve the common good, that they form a network of social insurance about each other so that the needs of each are supported.
And, what an opportunity for Catholic institutions to regain a compelling sense of purpose! At present we have the unfortunate situation where Catholic hospitals and schools are defined more by what they don’t provide (or don’t teach) than what they do.
Recognising that our governments are not Christian institutions and are probably not motivated to make it easier for their citizens to follow Christian teachings ought to free us to take action ourselves.
Again, nuance is required, I am not suggesting that we stop engaging in the formal processes of government, that we stop voting, protesting or petitioning. And those who have a calling to a political vocation must use their position to advocate for the truth. What I am suggesting however is that all of us have an obligation to practice politics, an obligation to help to construct a society where it is easier to be good, and we do not dispense with this obligation by attending the ballot box every four years.
Instead, this is a call to begin with a conversation. In your parish, in your households, with your neighbours to recognise that society has been radically restructured in the past 50 years and to have an open mind towards what might be required of us in the future.
The tools at our disposal
As to the tools that are available to us for finding new solutions, new ways of practicing politics, there are many and I will mention just a few.
The Christian tradition is one such asset. And it stretches from the period of the early Christians who certainly knew what it meant to create communities of support within a hostile or non-Christian society.
The example of those who have come before us are a part of this great tradition. And while I certainly don’t have enough time to properly present her life today, I will quickly point towards Servant of God, Dorothy Day. A Catholic, convert, journalist and activist, Day embodies what I believe to be the very best in Christian anarchism. This anarchism, by the way, is not about trying to dismantle the State, but a recognition that while we might occasionally need to render to Caesar that which is Caesar’s, we ourselves are called to belong to the Kingdom of God. I would strongly recommend Day’s life and works (particularly her autobiography The Long Loneliness).
Another tool is the great body of social teaching of the Catholic Church with which, I believe anyway, believers must familiarise themselves. Of particular need is to engage with the Church’s teaching in economics. The Church’s teaching on issues related to marriage and family are well known (and rightly so) but these cannot stand apart from Her teachings on money, investments, employment or business.
Of particular recommendation is a US based project named “New Polity” who specifically engage with what it means to create genuine Christian communities. We are very excited that one of their members, Dr Marc Barnes, will be delivering a keynote address at our conference on the Home in July next year. I would strongly recommend the podcast “Good Money” which can be found on Spotify and other podcast hosting services. This is an accessible, if sometimes personally challenging, treatment of the right use of money.
Speaking of our Conference, this will also be a forum where the creation of a Christian society – specifically in the Home is discussed and debated. If you are not signed up to our newsletter, make sure that you are before the end of the night so as not to miss this exciting event in 2025.
(I know that this sounds as if I am wrapping up, but I actually have two more pages, bear with me!)
A warning
In the interests of clarity, I will also state the following. There may be some who would take this discussion, and others like it, as a call to retreat from society, to flee for the hills and wait for civilisation to tear itself apart. (I will note also, that this very temptation was the subject of an excellent article written by Tom Gourlay and published on the Dawson Society website. I highly recommend it.)
It is certainly not my intention to advocate a retreat and sequestering from the world, but it is worth making a couple of comments on this idea.
Firstly, to those who find the idea of fleeing to the hills actually quite attractive (and I’ll admit that also applies to myself). The challenge is to build a Christian community that is distinctly Christian and yet profoundly open. Open to new and different people. Open to the command to make disciples of all nations (not just disciples of select families), open to new ideas. And open to the idea that some of your most cherished ideas might actually not be such great ideas after all. These two attributes, a community that is Christian and open, can and must be held in tension.
Doubtless, as society becomes more obviously post-Christian, there will be some who will seek to use this fact to justify withdrawing in upon themselves and refuse to engage with wider society.
I suspect that the litmus test for the health and openness of a community, at least in the Catholic tradition, will be its openness to the authority of the hierarchy of the Catholic Church (and here I mean not individual priests but the parish united to its bishop and the bishop united with the Pope). This unity does not mean a slavish, or unquestioning attitude towards the hierarchy, there must be room for questions and even fraternal correction, but it means an appreciation and respect of where Christ has vested his authority and where he has not. We have a name for communities who appropriate authority that does not properly belong to them, which is cult. Likewise, we ought to remember Jesus’s words that “whoever is not against us is for us.” Mark (9:40) and be cautious of those who would impose strict tests of ideological purity.
On the other hand, there will some who will be aghast at any suggestion that there might be conflict between the world and Christianity. There is certainly a narrative, at least in Catholic spaces, that the 1960s and 70s saw a positive and much needed integration of Catholics into the broader society brought about by the Second Vatican Council’s dismantling of a pre-conciliar Catholic ghetto.
I have no direct experience with the pre-conciliar Church. But I am certainly far from suggesting that the Church of the 1950s was a ‘golden age’, nor am I suggesting that that anyone ought to try and recreate the Church of this era. But the numbers, of believers, of coverts, or attendees of Mass and the other sacraments are very clear. The past 50 years have realistically seen a collapse of Christianity in Australia. It is time for new approaches.
Provision of the Sacraments
I have one final point to make, and it is an important one. In discussing the chapel at Fremantle Prison, I identified the provision of the sacraments as a priority for Catholics and intimated that even in modern Australia, sacraments are not everywhere accessible.
In 1918 Spanish Flu arrived on the shores of Australia. This deadly form of influenza accounted for as many as 100 million deaths worldwide and was spread among armed forces returning from the First World War. To prevent an outbreak in Australia, the government established quarantine stations at entry points to the country and it was only a matter of time before these stations were dealing with those infected by the outbreak.
Among the nursing staff at Sydney’s quarantine station was 27-year-old Annie Egan. Annie was the fifth of nine children of a devotedly Catholic family.
The flu itself was a truly terrifying illness remarkable for the speed at which infections progressed. It was not unknown for someone to wake-up feeling perfectly healthy in the morning only to collapse at death’s door by the afternoon.
After just a couple of weeks of nursing the sick in the quarantine station, Annie herself contracted the deadly illness. As her condition worsened, she came to the realisation that her death was approaching, and she asked for a priest. A local priest was contacted and willing to bring Annie last rites, but authorities in the quarantine station, fearful of prolonging the outbreak, refused him entry.
Annie Egan died on the 3rd of December 1918. Her body was buried on site with a short funeral conducted by a fellow Catholic nurse. When news of her death spread however, there was an immediate and furious outcry against the denial of spiritual care. The Archbishop of Sydney himself, Michael Kelly arrived at the entry to the quarantine station demanding to be allowed to administer spiritual care to the Catholics inside. He was denied entry and threatened with arrest, but the point had been made and the government quietly made arrangements for the patients of the station to receive spiritual care.
There are some obvious points to this story that have, or have had, some relevance to our own times. That being said, I do not really think it worthwhile addressing specifically what occurred in Australia during the COVID 19 pandemic. And any assessment of this period should be charitably conducted.
My point is focused towards the present and the future. If we are to be taken seriously as believers, then we ourselves must be seen to take seriously the practice of our own religion and the provision of spiritual care. The role each might play is different. As a member of the laity, my role is much more in support of the clergy when it comes to the availability of the sacraments, but the seriousness with which this must be taken cannot be understated. If the goal is to construct a society where it is easier to be good, our faith and our tradition both inform us of the most necessary component for this.
Thank you.
[i] For where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.’ (Matthew 18:20)
[ii] Just then a lawyer stood up to test Jesus. ‘Teacher,’ he said, ‘what must I do to inherit eternal life?’ He said to him, ‘What is written in the law? What do you read there?’ He answered, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbour as yourself.’ And he said to him, ‘You have given the right answer; do this, and you will live.’ (Luke 10:25-28)
[iii] I am, to be clear, far from suggesting that these three goals were, are or ought to be the only goals of Christian politics (I will note that I have said nothing of evangelisation or proclaiming the gospel), but that will have to be a topic for another time.
[iv] It also appears to me to be clear that causes such as justice for refugees have also met with defeat in legislature without any likelihood of future success.
[v]Warren’s research is true of the United States. Anecdotally, I expect the same or similar to be true of Australia (though this of course requires research to establish).
[vi] CCC. 162
[vii] https://www.seniors.com.au/documents/australian-seniors-cost-of-death-whitepaper.pdf
Play
Download
Share