Something Thoughtful

 Nicholas Reid reflects in essay form on general matters and ideas related to literature, history, popular culture and the arts, or just life in general. You are free to agree or disagree with him.  

                                            SACRED OR SECULAR?

Pardon me if I begin with a personal anecdote.

Some years ago, I was at a university capping ceremony in which one of my daughters was about to be capped for an advanced degree. As was often the case, an eminent person had been chosen to give an opening speech, intended to inspire the proud graduands to benefit society with their new-won skills and knowledge. It happened that the invited speaker was a learned Pasifika scholar and clergyman. The core of his speech was that life could not be lived well without God; and one’s endeavours would be fruitless without God. In effect, he delivered a sermon.

As I recall it, the speaker was politely clapped and there was no protest or interjection at this very Christian speech, even if the occasion was a secular one – after all, most graduands tend to regard capping speeches as something to be politely endured and/or ignored as they wait for their big moment of having their degrees publicly confirmed. But I couldn’t help entertaining an heretical thought. Would the reaction have been different if the speech had been given by a Pakeha bishop or a Rabbi, each expressing support for specific religious teachings? How much was the speech accepted politely as a courtesy to Pasifika and Polynesian culture in general?

As in many other democratic countries, we have a rather odd dichotomy in New Zealand. Officially, public events are secular, but “secular” is a very contested term. Does secularism mean neutrality (and silence) when it comes to matters of religion, so that believers (of all denominations and religions) and non-believers are on an equal footing? Or does secularism mean hostility towards religion, which is frequently the case with people who style themselves as secularists, as often seen in Australia’s Secular Lobby? We have seen some of these tensions in recent initiatives to change the nature of the prayer that has, for many decades, been read out by the Speaker of the House at the opening of a new session of parliament.

At the beginning of December (2022) there was a local controversy pitting the religious and the secular. Craig Jepson, the newly-elected mayor of Kaipara, refused to allow a Maori councillor to open the council’s first meeting with a Karakia (variously defined as a prayer or liturgical chant). Jepson asserted that the meeting was a secular one and therefore it was no place for religious expression of any sort. This caused outrage for many in the local community, especially as there is a large Maori population in the Kaipara area. A petition was raised against Jepson, there was a large – and peaceful – protest march in Dargaville, and the Race Relations Commissioner expressed his concern over Jepson’s action. At time of writing these comments,  Jepson (a Pakeha) has not retracted his assertion, but has suggested that there could be a roster allowing councillors of different persuasions to open meetings with a reflection.

At this point, I have to declare my bias and say where I am situated in this dispute. Jepson’s intervention and the halting of the Karakia were recorded and shown on national television. Jepson’s action struck me as boorish, inept and bullying. No matter how strongly he felt about it, he could have let the Karakia finish before expressing his opinion. I also have to add that on the whole, I’m on the side of a formal opening prayer of some sort to begin council deliberations.

But here’s my awkward question. How many of those who criticised Jepson publicly are themselves not religious believers? I’m guessing (and only guessing) that many Pakeha who criticised Jepson would not have supported an opening prayer to a council meeting if it were not Maori. The difference is that in this case a Karakia is seen as a vital part of a certain ethnicity – something to be treasured as a people’s heritage. In other words, at least some non-religious Pakeha (again I’m merely speculating) would have said public prayer is okay for one ethnicity but not for another. And just possibly there is something patronising in such a stance. It’s as if we are being told that the prayers of one group are to be cherished while the prayers of another are to be regarded with contempt.