fishers, surfers and casters

Recent reports from the National Church Life Survey show that in the last decade of the twentieth century church attendance in Australia was in steady decline. Mainstream Protestant denominations experienced a decline that was by-and-large offset by increases in Evangelical and Pentecostal churches, but this was not enough to counter the decline in the Roman Catholic church, which accounts for half of Australia’s Christians (Bellamy and Castle, 2004: 7-8). While the Evangelical offset of mainstream Protestant decline may indicate that Australian Christians are changing denominations, research shows these churches (such as the Assemblies of God, the Christian City Churches and the Christian Revival Crusade) have the highest incidence of “drifting out”, i.e. of people leaving these churches and forsaking church attendance altogether (Sterland, Powell et al., 2006: 12-13). Despite immigration’s account for growth of other religions, like Islam, it appears that Australia is an increasingly secular nation.

Theorists such as Bauman (1998: 70) would attribute this decline to late modern culture’s call for peak experiences but desire to keep religious institutions away from them. For Casanova (1994: 40-42), the “privatisation” of religion is the product of an ideological campaign of modernity, both for freedom of conscience from ecclesial control, and for the progression of institutional differentiation for the capitalist economy. Casanova sees the persistence of the churches to maintain a presence in the public sphere as not a resistance to secularisation but a “deprivatisation” of religion in moral response to capitalism, consumerist worldviews or their threats to traditional worldviews (1994: 228).

Turner’s secularisation theory aligns with that of Casanova in that he sees the privatisation of religion as the result of the modernist campaign to relegate institutions founded on “ineffable” truths to the private sphere for the benefit of modern democracy and liberty.

In a democratic environment, the very idea that some truths are ineffable contradicts the ethos of modern society in which everybody assumes a right to understand or at least to have the relevant information. Democracy tends to promote plain speech and political campaigns are based on personalities and slogans and not only policies. The control of ineffable knowledge is compromised and the whole idea of hierarchically organized wisdom evaporates. We are moving from the age of revelation to the age of information where everything is, at least in principle, effable. The resulting crisis of authority is perhaps the real meaning of secularization [...].

(2008: 221)

He departs from Casanova’s theory in his understanding of the re-entrance of Christianity in the public sphere. For Turner, modern public religion is “low-intensity”, favouring the practical, attractive and therapeutic at the expense of “authentic and viable forms of personal piety” (2008: 232). Even religion that appears to challenge consumer culture, like Fundamentalism, enters the public sphere as a marketplace, “selling a lifestyle based on special diets, alternative education, health regimes and mentalities” (2008: 233). Even if (post)modern, individualist, and consumerist society has allowed religion to speak its values, it has determined the conditions on which it can communicate.

The emerging church movement is seen in the context of religious “deprivatisation” and the conditions with which Christianity is allowed a public face. Driscoll (2006) identifies the emerging church movement as the third and last in a series of models, based on their level of engagement in the public sphere. Traditional expressions of Christianity, such as Catholicism and mainstream Protestantism, is labelled “Church 1.0”, that claim to retain their privileged place in modern culture, though have failed to retain an authoritative voice in postmodern culture. “Church 2.0”, appealing to public audiences and engaging in a “culture war” to regain the lost position of cultural privilege, and managed as businesses that market spiritual goods and services (Driscoll, 2006: 87-88).

The emerging church is model “3.0”, that accepts in a postmodern and pluralistic society the “culture war” is won only at the expense of authentic spirituality, and therefore not worth fighting (Driscoll, 2006: 88). For Brian McLaren, a popular American voice of the movement, the emerging church seeks an alternative to the secular dilemma, where Christians choose either “a private, personal spirituality unconnected to public life” or “a public civil religion that compromises with partisan politics” (Streett, 2006: 11).

Generations in this half of the century had grown more educated than those before, and had allowed themselves to question the authority of their denominational patriarchs. Not surprising then, that 1963 saw the peak of participation in traditional religious communities in Australia. The Death of God movement of the 1960s, informed by the works of Barth and Bonhoeffer, led in part by the 1963 publication of Honest to God, written by John Robinson, then Anglican Bishop of Woolwich, criticised contemporary Christian theology and claimed that while traditional images of God were absent in the secular world, a sense of the sacred can no longer be found among the cloisters of the Church (Altizer and Hamilton, 1966: 28-36, 39). Instead, the Christian way of life should be found by leaving the church and into secular life. Radical liberal groups, including the Australian Student Christian Movement, claimed the failure of Australia’s mainline churches to listen to and speak to the world, calling them to abandon futile moral laws and turn their attention to service and justice (Breward, 1993: 169; Thompson, 1994: 123).

While Liberal Christians laid their attacks on the Church for distancing itself from society, in later decades radical Conservatives set their aim for governments. From 1965 through the eighties, State governments had progressively freed community laws from Protestant morality, including restrictions to hours of licensed venues, the legalisation of betting and establishments of State lotteries, legalisation of abortion and decriminalisation of homosexuality. In response to a perceived downward spiral into “hedonistic secularism” the Festival of Light grew into a major conservative pressure group campaign. Born in South Australia, its grasped a larger stronghold in Sydney, where even now conservatives appear to have a stronger voice, in a State where church attendance is generally lower and amidst greater religious diversity than national averages (Thompson, 1994: 116-118).

In later decades, organisations such as Catch the Fire Ministries and the Australian Prayer Networks would do well to catch the attention of state and federal politicians in their claims for a presence of Christian spirit and fervour in the running of the country. Some Christians organised themselves into political parties, calling for Australia’s moral and spiritual renewal, and a return to “family values”. Such parties include Family First and the Christian Democratic Party. Due partly to the strong presence of Evangelical churches in mainstream media, prominent politicians have found in them a support for a conservative agenda, not least the country’s previous Prime Minister, the Hon John Howard, and Treasurer, the Hon Peter Costello. Mainstream news media has responded to politicians’ interest in these groups, to turn their own attention to religious debates happening in denominations and the impact on Australian life. The place of religion in political life, especially in the face of a growing Muslim immigrant and refugee population, and terrorism post-9/11, is a popular article for consideration by any radio or television news program.

It is growing apparent that Australians define the Christian identity less by their involvement in a denomination and more by their stance on a variety of political, religious and social issues, like abortion, sexual morality, the ordination of women and homosexuals, stem-cell research and our responsibility to the environment. People draw from a large market of sources for resources to form religious identity, outside their local religious community and its parent denominational authority. These views are still dividing people within traditional institutional structures and encouraging alliances among previously separated groups.

In 2005, Australian church organisations pooled finances together and employed an advertising agency to create a series of radio and television commercials, plus a website that offered information about the communities and its people. The advertising campaign was titled “Jesus – all about life” and featured young adults, parents and older people expressing their interest in the person of Jesus Christ. Every television and radio advertisement intentionally omitted any reference to the churches involved, and even Christianity itself. For the first time in Australian media, Christians refused to portray themselves in their religious promotion. Only in the website was there a small reference to Australian Christian churches, and only links to their own denominational website and contact information.

The ad campaign showed a realisation that Australians were, by-and-large, indifferent to Christian identity and community, though had some interest in faith and spirituality. It made apparent that denominations themselves know the Australian religious community is not defined by institutional membership or participation.

Australian broadcasting regulations of the 1960s onwards allowed a space for religious programming, even if it were just among the screening of commercials. Mainstream Protestant and Catholic churches lacked a voice of authority for the new media environment, and struggled with how to approach it ethically and structurally. The Christian Television Association was developed to deal with these issues on the behalf of the major denominations, and became a well-known Christian presence in Australian television, until regulations were relaxed in the 1990s, making Christian broadcasts more expensive, having to compete for air-time in the same way as other community and commercial organisations. Now the newly named Christian Television Australia focuses its resources on a digital channel, with rarely run special programmes on free-to-air.

It seems now that the once-small Evangelical Christian voice is the great winner in Australian broadcasting deregulation. Its energies are not wasted by the strict authority regimes and ethical debates that confronted the mainstream churches (Lehikoinen, 2003: 165-166). American televangelism, such as the ministries of Oral Roberts, Pat Robertson, Marilyn Hickey and Benny Hinn, had enough resources to buy air time on Australian television. Their common message was the Bible is given directly by God and so must be read with a literal eye, that prayer brings rewards to the true believer, who is persecuted by a secular world unprotected from Satan’s influence, and is called to bring moral regeneration until the end of days, which are imminent. Though a very marginal Christian worldview, the rituals contained within the television programming, together with the ritual acts adopted by its consumers, helped legitimate the religious identity of viewers as part of a global movement. (Alexander, 1994: 3-5).

Evangelical Christianity has, since Billy Graham, been seen as a rapidly growing movement with a strong successful voice in Australian society, to the shame of Catholicism and mainstream Protestantism. Television has helped, not just by carrying the message, but by reinforcing the shape of the Australian religious milieu as a market, where religious identity is built by consumption, and where the success of an organisation is dependent, albeit somewhat, on the marketability of its products. This is indeed the basis of criticism of Australia’s “megachurches”, such as Hillsong in Sydney and Adelaide’s Paradise Church, labelled by some in the emerging church movement as more akin to businesses than religious communities.

Television is not the only transforming force of changes in Australia’s Christian landscape in the mid and late twentieth century. While ecumenical activities engaged dialogue between established denominations with increasing fervour, political debates asked Christians to take sides, producing divides within denominational structures. Whatever differences divided Christians into Catholics and Protestants would become less important than those that defined a “left-wing” and a “right-wing”, or a Liberal versus a Conservative Christian.

The Second Vatican Council spanned three years and involved two Popes, ending in 1965. It changed the face of the Roman Catholic Church, opening its doors to alternative methods of theological inquiry, greater freedoms of expression for congregational brothers and sisters, and interest in inter-denominational and inter-faith dialogue. In response to its global power, Catholics in Australia found a seat in the Australian Council of Churches (now known as the National Council of Church in Australia) and involvement in joint theological training organisations, such as the United Faculty of Theology and the Melbourne College of Divinity. Economic prosperity, social mobility, free education and urban sprawl since the 1950s closed distances between Catholics and Protestants in both geography and class. Pure Catholic families were growing at a slower rate, inter-denominational marriages were becoming normal. (Breward, 1993: 67)

But one Papal Encyclical would cause a disagreement among Catholics, creating a divide that is not yet resolved. Humanae Vitae, subtitled “On The Regulation Of Birth” was written by Pope Paul VI and released in 1968, reaffirming traditional teaching and unequivocally condemning contraception and abortion. Many Catholics began to question the infallibility of the Papacy, and clergy met those confessing to the sin of using contraception with acknowledgment that it was a matter of personal conscience (Breward, 1988: 73).

In Australia as in other parts of the world, political movements evoked responses by Christians that separated them from others. They would include the anti-war movement and feminism of the 1960s and 1970s, environmentalism and the gay and lesbian rights movement of the 1980s and 1990s. Wuthnow (1989: 32-34) describes the distinction between pro and con among believers as arising out of a perceived gap between political values and behaviour. The Liberals attacked the behaviour of government while the Conservatives critiqued values. Conservatives wanted out of political involvement, focussing more on changing personal beliefs, while Liberals saw this was not enough for the Church’s witness to the world.

The Christian churches have sat in an uneasy place in Australian society, ever since Europeans arrived to the continent in the eighteenth century. It took many years, and much pressure from immigrants, for British churches to consider the communities of convicts, emancipists and free settlers as mission fields (Breward, 1988: 1). Rather than conscientious opposition that grew in North American societies, it was apathy that halted the establishment of a national Church in the colonies.

The same apathy allowed for the growth of religious diversity and the development of a unique religious character for the land that would be a nation. Colonial governments supported the importation of both Protestant and Roman Catholic clergy and professionals to build charities for migrants and freed convicts, the majority of whom were Irish Catholics (Breward, 1988: 11, 13). The copper and gold boom of the mid 1800s attracted both miners and evangelists who gained followers more by their practical piety than formal theological education. It was in this period that Methodist and Baptist churches grew rapidly, by the deployment of lay preachers (Breward, 1988: 28). Finke and Stark notice a similar expansion in the history of the United States’ expansion. In the absence of an established national church, as in Europe, religious diversity thrived and the growth of denominational communities were fuelled by a process akin to market forces: those that grew were those that could provide religious products that the wider community would be attracted to consume (Finke and Stark, 2005: 15-20).

Even this early in the history of White Australia, common sense pointed to an ecumenical Christian presence, if at least a common Protestantism. Anglicans, Presbyterians and Wesleyans shared resources to build churches in marginal areas, including the support of clergy (Breward, 1988: 23-24). This common sense survived into the next century, where a federated Australia saw the union of all Lutheran churches (previously divided by ethnic origins), a Baptist Union, and an Australian Anglican General Synod (Breward, 1988: 66). Even Methodism, Congregationalism, and most Presbyterian communities were lost to a Uniting Church in Australia.

It is argued that this ecumenical sensibility fuelled the separation of church from state in the nation’s development. For example, a passion for justice united Christians to the campaign of state-funded education in the second half of the nineteenth century, that led to the dissolution of most Protestant schools. It could have ended all sectarianism, but it paved the way for a Roman Catholic system that aimed for a religious alternative to secularist education, and then new Protestant schools that aimed for prestige and refinement (Breward, 1988: 32-33). The same passion in Christian community service led to the ideal that the professional skill is more important than the religious affiliation of service agencies’ staff, and would eventually mean the independence of many from their Christian roots (Breward, 1988: 86-87). Examples include the Brotherhood of St Lawrence, Mission Australia and the Australian Workers Union. Even organisations that carry a denominational label, such as Anglicare and UnitingCare, ensure the culture of the workplace remains primarily secular, even where chaplains are employed.

Against the historical backdrop of consensual secularism and latent ecumenism, the mid 1900s saw a convergence of various global social and political factors that led to a watershed in Australian religious history, among the effects of which the Australian emerging church now sees itself. These include, but are not exhausted by, the Billy Graham crusades, the Second Vatican Council, the arrival of television, the Asian Wars, the World Council of Churches, the Death of God, and communism.

Evangelical crusades and revivals have been with Australians since before the Gold Rush. They focussed on simple pragmatic doctrines balanced by a fervour for community harmony and service. Evangelists were often gifted with more charisma than formal education, and understood the plight of their congregations. Billy Graham entered Australia with the same properties, but his style led to a new flavour of Evangelicalism that will be the key characteristic for Evangelicalism in that century and the next. Graham’s works had earned him many devotees in North America, and arrived down under with a large capital outlay to produce large musical and dramatic events in our capital cities, that drew unusually large crowds (Breward, 1988: 77). With Graham came the idea that the spectacle is as important as the message.

Graham’s crusade, like other evangelistic pursuits to follow, was worded in the language of new media of the period, television. Schofield Clark (2003: 30) notes the four main tenets of Evangelicalism are:

1. That humans are in need to salvation
2. That Christians are charged with bringing others to the faith
3. That the Bible is free of errors and must be understood literally, and
4. The Rapture will mark the end of days, vindicating the plight of believers.

As television became the dominant form of mass media in Western culture, the late twentieth century saw both religious and secular polities increasingly submissive to its discursive structure. Television was, as it still is, a medium packed with stories of good versus evil, where even journalism shows contain a narrative and ritual structure that is filled with drama. The Evangelical Gospel found a comfortable place among the messages beamed into homes of this period.