The Quebec Group on Contextual Theology--See my link--has begun reflecting on what “laicity” means in Quebec . It is not a discussion we hear about much in the English-speaking world and it is often confused by English-speaking peoples with a discussion about secularity. However, in point of fact, the two are not the same. Secularity has to do with the distinction between the sacred and the profane. Laicity has to do very specifically with the way religion functions in the public (especially State) sphere. The debate has been long and heated in Quebec and some trace it back to the reaction to Catholic ecclesiastical influence prior to the Quiet Revolution in Quebec in the 1960s.
As I began to enter into the reflection of the group, I happened to turn the radio to the Ideas program on the Canadian Broadcasting System (CBC). The program is prestigious; it brings together many outstanding thinkers on important themes that society struggles with and offers significant insights. The program was on the distinction between the public and the private, most especially in the Tudor era of Elizabethan England. (Friday, October 22. Apparently they devoted the whole of October, 2010 to the theme. You can listen to the broadcasts at http://www.cbc.ca/ideas/archives.html )
Now, it may seem a long way from Tudor England to the current discussion in Quebec about laicity. However, as I listened I found a profound relevance – and I would like to share a bit of that.
When a Shakespearean actor stands on stage and pronounces a soliloquy, he is apparently “thinking out loud” his most intimate thoughts while in solitude. In fact, he is standing before, in those times, as many as 3,000 in the audience who share this public pronouncement of the private sphere. The effect on the audience is to connect each person with that intimate sharing of the private. The private becomes public and becomes shared by all those present, each in their own way.
At that time, the Tudor period in England , there had been religious upheaval. Henry VIII had separated from the great religious communion of Catholicism that bound all Europe together. Protestant influences came in. The Mary Tudor reinstated Catholicism as the official religion and rounded up—and executed—many Protestants. Elizabeth had Mary executed and reinstated Protestant Anglicanism, though without the same level of repression. In any case, for the State at that time, the important thing was outward adherence. It was a “don’t tell” situation as far as personal convictions were concerned. The supposedly universal religious consensus had clearly been broken but at least an outward conformity could be encouraged—even mandated.
Shakespeare does not shrink from bringing all this forward at the moment in Hamlet that the, presumably Protestant, prince is visited by the ghost of his father, a most Catholic king. The impact on the audience could not have been neutral. This was precisely the unease they were living as a society: how to reconcile a new diversity of religious allegiance and conviction within a single society. Shakespeare pulls it into the public arena through theatre. The public is able to distance itself from the issue since it is “merely theatre.” At the same time, the issue becomes experiential since each person is surrounded by others whose private convictions remain unshared. The result is the recognition that the great communion of a unified set of social convictions and norms is a dream, a utopia, something perhaps to be imagined and even hoped for but certainly not actual reality. The audience is implicitly invited to come to terms with the differences represented by the very people surrounding each one present. As Hamlet comes to terms, within the intimacy of his own thoughts and feelings, with the terrible responsibility placed on him by his father, the audience too is invited to figure out how to deal with difference in its own life as a society.
We remain with the dilemma and we struggle with the issues. At least there does seem to be a general consensus that the State should not be identified with any one religious tradition. There should be no “State religion.” There also seems to be a general consensus that the religious traditions practiced by people in Quebec society should be guaranteed by “religious freedom,” that is to say the traditions are accepted as a legitimate contribution to the society and honoured. Some might see this as an invitation, similar to that in Elizabethan England, to give “outward consent” to a set of (secular) values and institutions that embody the State while leaving the intimacy of private (and religious) convictions to each individual. However, that does not resolve the tension.
One final comment to a very on-going reflection: what is clear is that the desire for consensual communion in society represents a utopian dream that exercises a valuable role in pressing us to find ways to treat of our differences and try to resolve tensions. At the same time it is clear that the tension created by the differences is quite real and also quite important for a living and creative society. To attempt to eliminate differences and the tension that they elicit would be disastrous. We live in a society that is alive and creative precisely because in private we are quite different and that private sphere is constantly looking for a way to be shared, to become public. There are limits, but the dialectic is precisely what makes our living together so full of meaning and purpose.
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