I Walked a Mile with Pleasure
I walked a mile with Pleasure;
She chatted all the way;
But left me none the wiser
For all she had to say.
I walked a mile with Sorrow,
And ne’er a word said she;
But, oh! The things I learned from her,
When sorrow walked with me.
-Robert Browning Hamilton
Shock and wonder.
Disbelief.
Sorrow.
These are the emotions felt.
Memories of the last words.
Were they kind?
Did I miss a sign? Micro fraction? Flicker?
Was there any inkling that this was coming?
Death has come like a thief in the night.
We fall asleep
Or blink …
And it has creeped in.
Taking from us our chance to say goodbye.
Wondering about the last minutes of life
The last breath. alone.
When there is no time to say goodbye…
There is only a hole in a heart.
October 6, 2009
This poem was written by me. A patient died unexpectedly at their home. I had known him for a number of years, but I always wonder that no matter how long you have a relationship with a person, can you really say that you knew that person well? Social psychologists talk about the masks that we wear. We put on different masks depending on the setting that we are in. We are one way with our family, work place, friends, in store, on the bus. We show different aspects but no one really has the full picture of who we are.
Regardless of how long I know someone, I also wonder what I can do to "know" that person better. I wonder if anyone achieves this in a lifetime.
This is the second part of an article from the Vancouver Sun, talking about the 'war' between spirituality and religion. The author purports that spirituality is a personal thing while religion relates to the corporate nature of spiritual practice. Which is better: Religion or spirituality? Many people, especially on the West Coast of North America, now firmly believe that it's much better to be "spiritual" rather than "religious."
Before offering my answer to the question, however, it's crucial to explain the common definitions going round today of "religion" and "spirituality," plus a few of the widespread complaints against both.
Some of the many, many people today who stress "I'm spiritual, but not religious" feel strongly about defining religion as an absolutistic and dogmatic belief system locked up in an institution.
Their condemnation has some validity, even though they're not correct in portraying ALL religion as doctrinaire.
There can be no doubt that institutional religion frequently regresses to blind obedience and self-righteousness.
That's the assertion, for instance, of Vancouver's world-famous spiritual writer, Eckhart Tolle, author of The Power of Now. The people who champion "spirituality" generally use the term to refer to the private and free development of a person's private inner life.
Tolle, for instance, is typical of many in the way he describes spirituality as personal "transformation" to an "awakened" state, detached from one's ego and even from "belief" itself .
The main charges against Tolle's popular form of self-spirituality are that it can become privatistic, leading to self-absorption, narcissism, naivety, anti-intellectualism and an anything-goes moral relativism. Critics say those who follow private spirituality are often unwilling to engage wider society and, in failing to do so, support the social status quo.
Just as there is something to the prevailing attack on "religion," there is also some truth to this critique of "spirituality."
But the mutual bombardments do not at all comprise the whole story of "spirituality" and "religion."
There are more comprehensive ways of looking at both, which will expand the debate far beyond a simplistic argument that one is good and the other is bad.
There are many valid definitions of "spirituality," a term that has only become hot in the past decade.
But I think one of the best and broadest definitions of "spirituality" is that it is "the ways humans have sought to find meaning in the world." However, I have to immediately add that I join the renowned American sociologist of religion, Robert Bellah, in suggesting that religion, at its deepest level, is about the same process -- forming human meaning.
In today's religion-wary culture, many won't like this overlapping definition of "spirituality" and "religion." But if you accept it, you would have to conclude that, at least in their ideal form, both can be beneficial.
There is another link between the two terms. Even though "spirituality" is now used to refer exclusively to a human's inner life, many private spiritualities, if they prove persuasive to enough people, eventually develop into more structured communal worldviews.
That is what happened with the experiences and teachings of Moses, Buddha, Socrates, Jesus, Mohammed and Baha'u'llah.
It's also what is happening with some best-selling contemporary spiritual teachers, as their thinking becomes more formalized through study groups and inter-connected communities.
In other words, it appears that the thing Western society is really debating these days is the difference in value between private spirituality and community-based spirituality, which is also sometimes known as institutional religion.
Contrary to what many people like to believe, I am not convinced personal spirituality and communal religion are mutually exclusive. They are complementary.
And both need to be approached in a self-critical way.
Any institutional religion that is habitually dogmatic and that fails to nurture a sense of personal spirituality, of personal choice and transformation, is empty.
And any personal spirituality that remains merely private, that doesn't make an effort to directly connect with others, with the real world, with community life, is trivial.
So where does that leave us with the question: Which is better: Spirituality or religion?
The short answer is they are both important.
However, I will go out on an unpopular limb for the longer answer.
I would suggest that institutional religion - when it is truly self-correcting, non-authoritarian and encouraging of authenticity (which it often, admittedly, is not) -- is more complete than private spirituality.
Let me briefly make my case for the value of religion in institutional form:
• Institutional religion, at its best, can be open, evolving and self- reforming -- even while attempting to define and remain true to core values, beliefs and practices.
• A religious institution can incorporate a multitude of personal spiritual practices, including the self-spirituality and nature spirituality that are popular today.
• Religious institutions, ideally, create a sense of community, which often contribute to the well-being of individuals.
• Religious institutions can offer checks and balances on private belief and practice. They can help isolated individuals avoid going off on unhealthy, wrong-headed or dangerous spiritual tangents.
• As a community, a religion can accomplish things that isolated individuals cannot. Institutions can plan and strategize, creating force fields for positive transition, both within individuals and in the wider society.
Ultimately, I like the way that Washington state scholar Patricia O'Connell Killen talks about the value of religions, which she also calls "wisdom traditions."
Unlike private spiritualities, community-based religions can, at their optimum, help people realize they're not the centre of the universe, Killen says. They can also, through their collected knowledge, historical perspective and shared values, be invaluable in helping people face life's inevitable suffering. In doing so, they can renew personal and public hope.
In the end, I don't believe we need to buy into the current nasty war between (personal) spirituality and (community-based) religion.
After all, that creates a false either/or choice.
What we can do instead is foster more interaction between spirituality and religion, since they are simply different aspects of the same thing: Humans' eternal search for meaning.
| Vancouver Sun |
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'Many people are already aware of the difference between spirituality and religion. They realize that having a belief system -- a set of thoughts that you regard as the absolute truth -- does not make you spiritual no matter what the nature of those beliefs is."
That's the influential opinion of one of the world's most famous living spiritual teachers. Vancouver-based Eckhart Tolle, promoted by Oprah Winfrey, has sold millions of copies of his books, including The Power of Now.
His repeated message is "religion" is bad (oppressive) and "spirituality" is good (liberating).
As Tolle writes in his latest mega-seller, A New Earth: Awakening to Life's Purpose, religious people are convinced "unless you believe exactly as they do, you are wrong in their eyes, and in the not-too-distant past, they would have felt justified in killing you for that. And some still do, even now."
Tolle is promoting what is fast becoming conventional wisdom in the western world: "Religion" is institutional, almost always authoritarian. "Religion" is equated with the Crusades, terrorism and judgmental U.S. televangelists.
"Religion," in the mind of Tolle and those who read his books in more than 30 languages, is rigid and divisive and absolutistic.
This same anti-religion message is being advanced by spiritual authors such as Neale Donald Walsch, author of the best-selling Conversations with God, and a host of other New Age teachers. To them "religion" is "fundamentalism."
In contrast, Tolle prefers the term "spiritual," which he describes as "the transformation of consciousness" -- to a state of "awakening."
In line with Tolle, many people in Canada, perhaps even most, now find it necessary to tell anyone who cares to listen: "I'm not religious, but I'm spiritual."
The conviction that "religion" is essentially evil is now so pervasive in our culture that I am having even observant evangelical Christians, Jews and Muslims also tell me: "I'm not religious, but I'm spiritual."
How did western society get to this point, where religion has become a dirty word?
Much of it has to do with shifting definitions.
What, after all, is "spiritual?"
What is "religious?"
Unless these important words are defined, people can spend a lot of time going round in conversational circles.
Let's start with "religion."
The Oxford Dictionary defines "religion" as "the belief in and worship of a superhuman power, esp. a personal God or gods." Oxford adds that religion is "a particular system of faith and worship." Most interesting is that the Latin root of "religion" is "to bind together."
Even though I quibble with this Oxford definition of religion, I accept it's relatively straightforward compared to the ever-evolving meanings of the amazingly popular and vague word, "spiritual."
American philosopher Ken Wilber is highly aware of the problems that occur when people don't nail down what they mean by "spiritual." He cites several usages.
One common understanding of "spiritual" is that it's a state of consciousness, such as those achieved through meditation, he says. Another definition of "spiritual" refers to embodying an attitude, such as love or wisdom.
A third use of "spiritual" restricts it to higher states of consciousness or maturity. I'll add a fourth definition of "spiritual" -- how a person finds ultimate meaning.
Although it's hard to tell with Tolle, since he's not overly systematic, he seems to basically define "spiritual" in line with Wilber's first definition -- as a state of mind, as the state of being detached from one's ego.
Mark Shibley, of Southern Oregon University, suggests there are two major types of alternative spiritualities (as distinct from organized religions) operating in North America, which often overlap.
The first type most fits Tolle and Walsch. Shibley calls what they promote "self-spirituality."
They focus on the self as sacred. Tolle and Walsch, both of whom live in the Pacific Northwest, or Cascadia, where self-spirituality is commonplace, emphasize private psychological practice over doctrine.
The second major spiritual group adheres to Earth reverence. They stress that nature is divine. They tend to have mystical moments not in churches or temples, but in the wilderness.
Now that we've fleshed out the terms, religious and spiritual, let's get down to the big question.
Which is better?
Spiritual or religious?
If you define "religion" as Tolle and Walsch do -- as rigidly institutional, fundamentalist and self-righteous -- you would have to opt for "spiritual." After all, personal "transformation" seems more authentic than this harsh, top-down religion.
But if you keep in mind the dictionary definition of "religion" -- that it's a "system of faith" that may serve to "bind together" humans with each other, the world and a transcendent reality -- the rivalry between the two becomes not so clear-cut.
Is it not possible to be "spiritual," to practise inner transformation, at the same time one is "religious," that is, working to bond with a higher power and wider community through shared beliefs?
The great sociologist, Robert Bellah, in a recent article in the Buddhist magazine, Tricycle, writes that making a sharp distinction between religion and spirituality creates a false dichotomy. And that's what Tolle does.
The author of ground-breaking books, such as Habits of the Heart, helpfully broadens the definition of religion to, "the many ways humans have sought to find meaning, to make sense of their lives."
I find Bellah's definition better than even the one supplied by the Oxford Dictionary, since it can include religions that posit no God or gods, such as forms of Buddhism.
It's also close to the definition I tend to use most for "spiritual." And, in many ways, the definitions are interchangeable.
Bellah also persuasively maintains that trying to rid the world of religion -- since it's often corrupted -- would be absurd.
It would be like saying, "Let's get rid of the economy," because it often does harmful things.
"Religion meets a human need, and if you get rid of it in one form, it will come back in another," Bellah says.
That, indeed, is what is happening with contemporary "spirituality."
Even though Tolle's promoters always stress that he is "not aligned with any particular religion or tradition," his teachings are dependent on ideas that have emerged over the millennia from Buddhism, Hinduism, Judaism, Christianity and western philosophy.
And try as Tolle and many others might to emphasize that "spirituality" is only an inner, private experience, the hundreds of spiritual groups that are forming around Tolle's work, at his encouragement, are developing their own shared beliefs, thoughts, practices, orthodoxies and sense of community.
Just like a religion.
- - -
Read Douglas Todd's blog at www.vancouversun.com/
thesearch
Next week: What it takes for "religion" and "spirituality" to be healthy.
Harvard News Office
What happens when a Buddhist monk visiting the United States is hospitalized, terminally ill with liver cancer? Does religion interfere with his medical care? What about his Buddhist brethren, unable to join him bedside? Who will provide the appropriate services and ceremonies? Well, says Wendy Cadge, that’s where hospital chaplains come in.
Chaplains are just one of the ways in which hospitals and religion cross-pollinate — but, says sociologist Cadge, a current fellow at the Radcliffe Institute for Advanced Study, this cross-pollination can sometimes be a tricky business.
“Does religion and spirituality influence your health?” asked Cadge. “I don’t think this is an unimportant question. … Social institutions — temples, churches, mosques — … are often involved in the answer to this question in ways that are rarely studied or talked about.”
Cadge visited the ailing monk in a Catholic hospital in Pennsylvania. “He was going to die — not in a temple … but in this local hospital,” she recollected. “I wondered if he was awake how he would feel about being treated in a Catholic hospital. I wondered if the hospital had a priest or a chaplain, if that person might come by.”
Cadge explained that at most hospitals, the question of religion is a blank box on admissions paperwork. When she asked a hospital clerk why the information was relevant, he responded, “I don’t know. I guess it’s in case you die.”
The lasting image of the dying monk in his hospital bed in Pennsylvania left Cadge with an arsenal of questions. How do religion and spirituality interact with medicine?
Through research at major, non-religious-affiliated hospitals across the country, Cadge explored this question by shadowing hospital chaplains, analyzing the roles they play and how they affect the religious and spiritual goings-on inside hospitals.
In a talk inside the Radcliffe Gymnasium, titled “Paging God: Religion in the Halls of Medicine,” Cadge said most people think of chaplains as the people wandering the halls of hospitals, making bedside calls. But Cadge explained that chaplains have many perspectives on the work they perform and define their responsibilities in a multitude of ways. Chaplains are involved in almost all aspects of hospital life, said Cadge. In their most basic definition, these chaplains visit with ill patients; but their role in hospitals is, in fact, complex and much-debated.
The treatment of the sick and dying in hospitals raises profound religious and spiritual issues. In their not-quite-formal, not-quite-defined roles, chaplains address these questions. They are intermediaries for patients and families; guides who help navigate through emotional and complicated end-of-life issues. Yet, in an article for the Web site Religion Dispatches (www.religiondispatches.org), Cadge says that chaplains “have little voice when it comes to public conversations about religion and medicine in this country.”
A reason for this, Cadge surmised, is that there are relatively few chaplains in the United States — roughly 10,000. And, in general, chaplains lack medical training, and, as Cadge points out in the article, “Many of the country’s leading voices around religion, spirituality, health, and medicine are physicians.”
Even as atheism continues to rise in the United States, Gallup polls consistently show 95 percent of Americans still believe in a higher power; 70-85 percent of Americans pray for their own health and their family’s; and 72 percent believe God can cure people outside of medical science. What’s more, 60 percent of Americans and 20 percent of medical professionals think a person in a persistent vegetative state can be saved by a miracle.
So, it’s not surprising, perhaps, that in Cadge’s hospital research, which took her to intensive care and neonatal units, she found that it was common among non-chaplain staff to privately pray for their patients, regardless of their patients’ religious beliefs or whether or not they had solicited religious help.
Differences in religious viewpoints is an important issue for Cadge, who wanted to know how chaplains adapt to patients with different religions, and how patients with various religions and beliefs perceive chaplains.
Most of the chaplains Cadge observed would serve patients regardless of their denomination, and if patients or families requested a religious-specific prayer or ritual, the chaplain would oblige. Other times, chaplains simply sat in with patients, a person to talk to. Cadge recalled chaplains who collected prayers from families. Most were written on Post-It notes left tacked to makeshift memorials created by families to honor their loved ones who had died in the hospital. The chaplains put them in shoeboxes; and when the shoeboxes overflowed, the chaplains didn’t toss them out, the prayers were ceremoniously burned.
Cadge documented designated spaces in hospitals reserved for prayer; these chapels range from traditional church-looking rooms to rooms meant to be all-encompassing, or “interfaith,” outfitted with alcoves with specific religious symbols and texts.
The scope of a chaplain’s work varies with patients, but a chaplain’s responsibilities are deep and vast. “The one thing I found which most chaplains do … is working around death, often managing death for hospitals,” said Cadge, who noted that in some hospitals she visited, chaplains were paged for every trauma coming into the emergency room, and some were responsible for coordinating plans with the morgue and serving as a liaison for families.
“Part of a chaplain’s task is to help people find something to be hopeful about,” said Cadge, quoting a chaplain identified only as Karen. Karen also told Cadge, “People come literally from all over the world. We chaplains are the ones who make these people not be strangers. … We invite them into the community so that this becomes a safe haven in some regard.”
John, another chaplain Cadge encountered, had a different view. He believes a chaplain is “just someone who walks in, takes [patients] as they are, listens to their stories. … The most we can offer them is just a listening ear and a caring heart.”
A lot of a chaplain’s work is about healing, explained Cadge, quoting Karen. “A lot of work we chaplains do is about reconciliation, to help people to feel whole, to bring them back to what has been to what is, to what can be, either in this life or the next.”
Apr 28, 2009 by John Geddes
Canadians like to think of their country as a model for the world of how all sorts of people can get along together. But when it comes to the major faiths other than Christianity, a new poll conducted for Maclean’s finds that many Canadians harbour deeply troubling biases. Multiculturalism? Although by now it might seem an ingrained national creed, fewer than one in three Canadians can find it in their hearts to view Islam or Sikhism in a favourable light. Diversity? Canadians may embrace it in theory, but only a minority say they would find it acceptable if one of their kids came home engaged to a Muslim, Hindu or Sikh. Understanding? There’s not enough to prevent media images of war and terrorism from convincing almost half of Canadians that mainstream Islam encourages violence.
The poll, by Angus Reid Strategies, surveyed 1,002 randomly selected Canadians on religion at a moment when issues of identity are a hot topic in
Those findings leave little doubt that Canadians with a Christian background travel through life benefiting from a broad tendency of their fellow citizens to view their religion more favourably than any other. Across
Bernie Farber, chief executive officer of the Canadian Jewish Congress, said he was shocked that so many Canadians responding to a poll were willing to be so open about their negative feelings toward minority religions. “It tells me,” Farber said, “that our journey from intolerance to tolerance, to where we can actually celebrate each other’s cultures, is elusive.”
From the perspective of Sikhs and, especially, Muslims, that’s putting it mildly. When asked if they thought “the mainstream beliefs” of the major religions “encourage violence or are mostly peaceful,” only 10 per cent said they thought Christianity teaches violence. But fully 45 per cent said they believe Islam does, and a sizable 26 per cent saw Sikhism as encouraging violence. By comparison, just 13 per cent perceived violence in Hindu teachings and 14 per cent in Jewish religion. A tiny four per cent said they think of Buddhism as encouraging violence.
Ihsaan Gardee, executive director of the Council on Islamic-American Relations Canada, said “reductive reasoning” in media coverage of armed conflict in largely Islamic countries is a big part of the problem. Violence in countries with Muslim populations is portrayed as rooted in their religions in what Gardee calls a “clash of civilizations” world view. “They’re not looking at the social and economic context in which these things are happening,” Gardee said. “It can’t be reduced to Islam, per se.”
Clearly, Islam and Sikhism face the highest hurdles when it comes to persuading many Canadians they are not inherently violent faiths. The problem varies across regions. By far the highest percentage who viewed Islam as encouraging violence was found in
Palbinder Shergill, a
Patient work trying to overcome the widespread view of Sikhs as dangerous seemed to be paying off, she said—until recently. Shergill said Sikhs have lately faced a “huge resurgence” of the sorts of challenges to their distinctive practices that they thought were put to rest 15 years or so ago. In
But Ouellet said the boy didn’t use his kirpan, the small symbolic dagger many Sikh men carry. The judge gave him an unconditional discharge, leaving him with a clean record, and said the case would never have reached his bench if the incident hadn’t had a religious dimension. “Too much importance has been given this case,” he said. “This matter should end here.”
Shergill suspects that many more Canadians read about the initial charge being laid than the remarks of the obviously frustrated judge. And the fact that this episode unfolded in
A mere 17 per cent of Quebecers said they have a favourable opinion of Islam, and just 15 per cent view Sikhism favourably. Only 36 per cent of Quebecers said they hold a favourable opinion of Judaism, far below the national average, and in sharp contrast to neighbouring
Farber said his group, a 90-year-old advocacy organization for Canadian Jews, recently rebranded its
A heated debate over how far to go in “reasonable accommodation” of minorities gripped
Angus Reid took that debate national, asking how far governments should go to accommodate minorities. A strong majority of 62 per cent agree with the statement, “Laws and norms should not be modified to accommodate minorities.” A minority, 29 per cent, agreed with the alternative statement, “On some occasions, it makes sense to modify specific laws and norms to accommodate minorities.” Another nine per cent weren’t sure. In
Recent campaign trail experience in
Leaders of religious groups contacted by Maclean’s commonly said their impression is that urban attitudes are more open, especially in
Still, many advocates for Islamic and Sikh groups optimistically tout fostering personal contact—the sort of bonds that grow into friendships—as the key to creating acceptance of that religion. “The more that people have interactions with Muslims,” said Gardee from the Council on American-Islamic Relations Canada, “the more favourable an opinion they have of Muslims.”
To try to assess the extent and impact of friendships between Canadians of different faiths, Angus Reid asked, “Do you personally have any friends who are followers of any of these religions or not?” Not surprisingly, given that seven out of 10 Canadians identify themselves as Catholic or Protestant, the vast majority, 89 per cent, said they have Christian friends. Less predictably, given that only two per cent of the population follows Islam, fully 32 per cent of respondents claimed they have a Muslim friend. Only 16 per cent nationally reported having Sikh friends, but 36 per cent of British Columbians do. Across
Digging into that data, Angus Reid checked to see if those who claimed to have friends of a particular religion tended to view that faith more positively. There is a correlation. Among those who said they don’t have any Muslim friends, a mere 18 per cent reported that their opinion of Islam is generally favourable. But among those who said they do have Muslim friends, 44 per cent had a favourable opinion of Islam.
For all other religions, well over half of the pool of people who have friends of a certain faith view that faith favourably: for example, 63 per cent of those with Sikh friends view Sikhism favourably, compared with just 23 per cent of those without Sikh friends. And 76 per cent of Canadians with Jewish friends are favourably disposed toward Judaism, while only 34 per cent of people with no Jewish friends have a favourable opinion of Judaism.
Beyond personal contact with adherents of different religions, there’s the question of whether Canadians really know much about what the various faiths profess. Asked about their level of knowledge, 86 per cent said they have a “good basic understanding” of Christianity, compared to just 32 per cent who make the same claim regarding Islam, 18 per cent for Hinduism, 12 per cent for Sikhism, 32 per cent for Buddhism and 40 per cent for Judaism. In fact, it’s a stretch to imagine that a third of Canadians really have a solid grounding in Islam. Or, to express that skepticism another way, is it likely that Canadians are much more likely to have a grasp of the basic tenets of Islam and Buddhism than of Sikhism and Hinduism?
More likely, the higher reported levels of “good basic understanding” actually represents superficial impressions gleaned from news reports, combined with images—both negative and positive—picked up from popular entertainment. Grenville pointed out that with common Old Testament roots, Christians, Muslims and Jews have a natural starting point for mutual understanding. As for Buddhism, he suggested the sixties cultural touchstones established good press. “Meditation, the Beatles, all these things that feel Buddhist, even if they’re not really Buddhist, feel friendly,” he said. “There haven’t been a lot of Buddhist wars.”
Muslims and Sikhs might well envy that vibe. But Buddhism is more than an odd case—it shows that even a fast-growing religion can avoid rubbing Canadians the wrong way. The Buddhist population increased 84 per cent between 1991 and the 2001 national census. Still, that left the total Buddhist population at only about 300,000, or around one per cent of the population—far too small for most Canadians to have anything beyond fleeting direct contact with the religion. Even so, Buddhism’s favourability rating of 57 per cent is four points higher than Judaism, a religion with much deeper roots in
Even among those who profess a broad acceptance of other religions, the prospect of one of your children marrying someone from an unfamiliar background can be a test of tolerance. On this delicate question, though, the poll suggests a paradox. Although only 28 per cent said they have a generally favourable opinion of Islam, fully 39 per cent declared that they would find it acceptable for one of their children to marry a Muslim. The pattern follows for the other minority faiths: Canadians surveyed were more likely to say they would approve of one of their kids marrying a follower of a given religion than tended to view that religion favourably. So while only 30 per cent view Sikhs favourably, 39 per cent wouldn’t object to a child marrying one. Similarly, 41 per cent have a favourable opinion of Hinduism, but 46 per cent would find their child’s marriage to a Hindu acceptable.
That pattern might signal an intriguing instinct to respect personal choice in marriage over misguided generalizations about religions. Still, the numbers hardly suggest open-armed tolerance: with respect to all three of Islam, Hinduism and Sikhism, less than half of those surveyed said they would find it acceptable for one of their children to marry a follower of those religions. For the marriage question, the results again suggest the usual stratification: Christianity is by far most widely accepted, followed by Judaism and Buddhism, with Islam, Hinduism and Sikhism facing the most negative feelings. A resounding 83 per cent would accept a child marrying a Christian, 53 per cent a Buddhist, and 56 per cent a Jew.
Overall, the findings suggest minority religions aren’t getting a fair shake from the majority. But there remain legitimate questions, even misgivings, about the relationship between mainstream believers and fringe extremists. Outsiders, including journalists, sometimes have trouble gauging how many Sikhs support groups that have sometimes resorted to terrorism in their quest to carve a separate state out of
Muslim groups also face a minefield of image challenges, which often flow from international affairs rather than domestic life. Gardee admits, for example, his organization’s campaign urging the federal government to bring home Omar Kahdr might convey the wrong impressions to some Canadians. After all, Khadr, the Canadian being held by the
The problem of how to project a moderate face of Islam to a wider Canadian public is a pressing challenge. Within disparate Muslim communities—and the religion is anything but monolithic—the nature of mosque leadership is a subject of sometimes fierce debate. In fact, that argument is currently raging at
Karim Karim, a communications professor at
Perhaps a new generation of Muslim leaders more attuned to Canadian sensibilities can help bridge the obvious gaps in understanding. Karim points to negative connotations that have built up around a handful of loaded terms. According to him, sharia is a “very malleable, very diverse” set of ethics and values about leading a Muslim life—not a rigid legal code. He describes a fatwa as an “informed opinion by a learned scholar”—not a death edict. And Karim says most Muslims think of jihad as “a daily struggle to be a good Muslim.” But he adds, “It would be disingenuous on my part to say that, no, the other side does not exist. It does exist—the taking up of arms for a cause of justice.”
His willingness to try to explain details, convey nuances, even underline contradictions—it all suggests that Karim craves dialogue on a level the Angus Reid poll suggests too few Canadians are ready for. Even Grenville, who has long experience tracking all sorts of opinions, finds the landscape of attitude toward unfamiliar faiths bleak. “This runs counter to all we espouse,” he said. “We need to face up to the reality of it.” No doubt leaders of the fast-growing, little-understood religious minorities need to consider the image they project. But the rest of Canadians might try a little soul-searching, too. For a country that often boasts of modern identity based on acceptance of diversity, this poll suggests that’s still a goal to strive toward rather than an achieved reality.
Angus Reid’s online poll was conducted from April 14 to April 15, 2009. The margin of error is +/- 3.1 per cent, 19 times out of 20. The results were statistically weighted for education, age, gender and region to ensure a sample representative of the adult population of
One comment posted on the MacLean's site is
@ Sunday, Apr. 26, 2009 – 16:44:07
Maclean’s John Geddes has provided a balanced and interesting delineation of the Angus Reid online poll. Islam, in particular, has been getting much negative attention since 911, much of it justified, if one look at the rabid, extremist Muslim factions. Sikhs also have been involved in extremist acts; the Air India affair being the worst example. Tamils, though practically “inventing” suicide attacks, have had less impact on Canadian society.
It is unfortunate that new Canadians bring their origin countries conflicts with them here, especially when it leads to violence in their adoptive country. It does seem that the current crop of immigrants, especially those with strong ethnic and religious connections, have more difficulty accepting and adjusting to the values of their host county, than did earlier arrivals. The extremist behaviour displayed by some groups, reflected in some youth and a few families such as the Khadr clan, is causing damage to the Muslim image everywhere, and one can fault, to a degree, the moderate Muslim community for not taking a more vocal and firm stance against the few recalcitrant extremists among them.
However, one need not be a historian to know that these problems have always been with us, in one form or another. For example, Irish Fenians caused much conflict and consternation both in Canada and the United States, including physical attacks and the assassination of a member of the Canadian parliament and former sympathiser, Thomas D’Arcy McGee, in 1868. The Irish have maintained a strong Irish cultural identity over the years, but no one would suggest today that they have failed to adapt to Canadian society.
It is unfortunate that extreme tribalism, both of the political/social and the religious mode, is allowed to prevail in our society, but it is difficult to separate the wheat from the chaff. The same churches, temples, synagogues and mosques that serve as a support system for new arrivals, can also act as an incubator for extremism. We must always be vigilant in ferreting out the lunatic fringes, but also be mindful that given time, the greater good for our society will persevere. It did in the past, and it will do so in the future. Our ship of state is built for stormy weather, and behind the clouds the sun is still shining.
Domino kidney transplants mean fewer people are left on waiting lists, says Dr. Edward Cole. (CBC)Four Canadians have new kidneys thanks to the country's first pay-it-forward exchange of organs from Toronto, Edmonton and Vancouver.
Living-donor kidney swaps are based on the idea of group co-operation: a donor whose kidney isn't compatible with a loved one who needs a new kidney agrees to donate to a stranger. In exchange, the partner receives a kidney from someone else.
Simultaneous kidney swaps have been done in Toronto before, but this multi-city swap had to be carefully co-ordinated across three time zones.
"It's been challenging," said Dr. Edward Cole, chair of the National Living Donor Kidney Exchange Program. "This is a real success story of people collaborating across the country, and with important input from Canadian Blood Services."
Timing is key, given ethical fears that once a patient receives a kidney, their partner could rescind an offer to donate. A donor or recipient might also have to back out after falling sick.
To avoid any last-minute problems, all donors were put under general anesthesia and none of the donor operations were started until all surgeons confirmed by telephone that they were ready to begin.
In this case, donors travelled to where the recipients were: two to Toronto General Hospital, one to Edmonton's University of Alberta Hospital, and another to St. Paul's Hospital in Vancouver. Each site had more than 50 medical personnel involved.
It's also possible to fly kidneys between cities, since the organs remain viable for 12 hours after donation.
For some patients with severe kidney failure, a donation from a live donor offers better and faster results than transplants from deceased donors, said Cole, who is also the head of the University Health Network's kidney transplant program in Toronto.
In kidney swaps, the living donors are medically acceptable but are incompatible with their loved one based on blood type and other traits. The intricate process was featured on an episode of Grey's Anatomy.
Previously it has not been possible to use donors in this way because there was no national database to co-ordinate the matches.
Three of the donors had offered to give loved ones a kidney before, but weren't the right match. The fourth donor was a Good Samaritan.
"The best untold story is that one of the donors is an anonymous donor," said Dr. Sandra Cockfield, medical director of the renal transplant program at the University of Alberta.
"So this is an individual who came forward to donate not to someone they actually know on the waiting list, but had heard about the long waiting lists and the difficulty of living on dialysis," and came forward to donate to a stranger.
In this surgical marathon, the Good Samaritan or "non-directed donor" came forward and was matched to a recipient, allowing the chain of paired exchanges or domino surgeries to take place. The Good Samaritan was thus able to facilitate four transplants, including the last to someone on the waiting list.
Since many pairs are needed to improve the odds of a match, a national program works much better than a local one, Cole said.
The transplant surgical marathon required months of planning by Canadian Blood Services, which set up the national registry. Paired exchanges have also been performed in the U.S., but no national registry exists there.
"We're offering a new of getting transplants, and then it puts less pressure for all those who are waiting on the wait list," said Dr. Peter Nickerson of Canadian Blood Services in Winnipeg.
Donors and recipients are all recovering well in different wards to maintain their anonymity.
The pilot project involving B.C., Alberta and Ontario is going national.
"The fact that it's a possibility for me now opens up so many more doors, and it's a very exciting prospect," said Didja Nawolsky of Calgary, who is on the waiting list for a kidney. While she waits, Nawolsky gets 10 hours of dialysis daily.
Doctors involved are already scouting their next cross-Canada, multi-kidney swap.
