In the period of 2016-2022, the Philippines underwent major social upheavals in the form of two crises: the ‘war on drugs’ under the Duterte administration and the COVID-19 pandemic in the country. Apart from the violent and polarizing effects on the population, these crises have resulted to interruptions which have provoked: (1) a revisiting fundamental (religious) assumptions shaping a predominantly Christian country (cf. Cornelio and Medina, 2019), and (2)  an unpacking of the complexity of ‘wicked’ contemporary problems which resist straightforward solutions (cf. Rittel and Webber, 1973; Bentley and Toth, 2020). Historically, the Catholic church and other faith-based networks in the Philippines have been socially-involved and cognizant, in theology and practice, in times of social calamities encompassing not just in the realm of politics but also natural disasters. In light of this, the paper revolves around a two-pronged inquiry: in what ways does solidarity take shape in times of socio-political crisis, and how can such forms of solidarity be understood in light of critical theories and practical-theological perspectives?

Based on empirical studies from two regions in the Philippines, we will look into social practices from faith-based organizations which mobilized various responses to the crises in the country during these times. On the one hand, the paper will look into how some value-laden practices which promote social cohesion (for example, the promotion of human dignity and the common good) have been put at risk and undermined by such crises. On the other hand, it will also consider the ambivalent character of crises that could afford opportunities in which these values are understood beyond facile and normative ways in theological and religious discourses. Thus, we will present counter-narratives that have three objectives: (1) to go against logics of isolation and protectionist survival mechanisms, (2) while at the same time countering the discourse of ‘discipline’ as an institutional and myopic strategy that render invisible the ordinary practices of people, and (3) provide illustrations of ‘weak’ tactics that make up a so-called everyday resistance from those who suffer from violent state policies and responses (cf. de Certeau, The Practice of Daily Life, 1988).

Furthermore, using postcolonial hermeneutics, the paper will also pay attention to local and contextual sensitivities which would help rediscover the creative impulses of people and the indigenous values of grassroots communities, and their generative deployment of theological narratives even in the midst of crisis (cf. Gaspar, 2014). In other words, we shall critically inquire into the multi-directional entanglements of practices and beliefs within purported solidarity-based social mobilizations. Then, we shall argue for a notion of ‘critical solidarity’ that is dialogically shaped by historical-contextual factors alongside praxis-informed theologies, cognizant of the dangers of competition and the zero-sum game in representing histories of suffering (cf. Rothberg, 2009; 2011).

In conjunction with the objectives outlined above, the paper hopes to offer a critical-constructive perspective of solidarity from the postcolonial, global South. This also takes into account epistemological issues arising from discrepancy in power dynamics which underlie notions of solidarity in theological and religious discourses. Finally, the perspectives we propose are not only relevant to theological discussions of solidarity, but also in emphasizing the relational underpinnings of solidarity in broader interdisciplinary discussions on cross-cultural/ transcultural and postcolonial witnessing (cf. Craps, 2013; 2016).

Keywords: critical solidarity, postcolonial, practical theology, Philippines, crisis

References

Bentley, Joseph C. and Michael A. Toth. Exploring Wicked Problems: What They Are and Why They Are Important. Bloomington, IN: Archway Publishing, 2020.

Clark, Meghan J.  The Vision of Catholic Social Thought: The Virtue of Solidarity and the Praxis of Human Rights. Minneapolis: Augsburg Fortress Publishers, 2014.

Cornelio, Jayeel and Erron Medina. “Christianity and Duterte’s War on Drugs in the Philippines.” Politics, Religion & Ideology (2019). DOI: 10.1080/21567689.2019.1617135.

Craps, Stef. Postcolonial Witnessing: Trauma out of Bounds. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013.
________. “On Not Closing the Loop: Empathy, Ethics, and Transcultural Witnessing.” In The Postcolonial World. pp. 53-67. Routledge, 2016.

De Certeau, Michel. The Practice of Everyday Life. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1988.

Dillen, Annemie and Gärtner, Stefan. Discovering Practical Theology: Exploring Boundaries, Louvain Theological and Pastoral Monographs, 47. Louvain: Peeters, 2020.

Gaspar, Karl. Desperately Seeking God’s Saving Action. Quezon City: Institute of Spirituality in Asia, 2014.

Rittel, Horst W. J. and Melvin M. Webber, “Dilemmas in a General Theory of Planning,” Policy Sciences 4, no. 2 (June 1973).

Rothberg, Michael. Multidirectional Memory: Remembering the Holocaust in the Age of Decolonization. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2009.

________. “From Gaza to Warsaw: Mapping Multidirectional Memory.” Criticism; Detroit 53, no. 4 (Fall 2011): 523–48.

This paper discusses transformations in the management of social assistance in Brazil, with a particular focus on the evolving political legitimacy of neo-Pentecostal denominations over the past few decades. I argue that one of the valid forms of incorporating religion into the fabric of the public sphere is through social action, which requires the organization of a specific “grammar of solidarity” ascribing distinguished meanings to concepts such as community, rights, and poverty, for example.

This grammar exerted a hegemonic influence rooted in Catholicism, so pervasive that a significant portion of the categories employed in political mobilization and their organizational approaches derived from the model of the Catholic Church, particularly from the 1970s onwards. This period coincided with the intensification of violence and surveillance under the Brazilian military dictatorship, during which the institution served as a source of inspiration and support for various movements that brought about and shed light on what has been termed “civil society” in the literature. Influenced by Liberation Theology, this grammar incorporates the “option for the poor” into political discourse as a fundamental right and advocates for “participatory mobilization” as a legitimate means of action.

On the other hand, the significant growth of neo-Pentecostal denominations in the Brazilian religious landscape (amounting to approximately 70% over nearly four decades) and their ability to articulate themselves around political-institutional agendas disclose an unequivocal transformation of the national Christian base into a distinct form of religious pluralization. As a result, a new framework emerges and consolidates itself, primarily revolving around the principles of Prosperity Theology. This framework exalts wealth and the concept of an “abundant life” while simultaneously marginalizing the poor, both as active participants and recipients of public policies.

This work envisions how the grammars of Liberation and Prosperity contest each other, by giving rise to agonistic perspectives regarding not only the management of social welfare but also the fundamental concept of social welfare itself. Specifically for this workshop, I propose an understanding of grammars of solidarity based on two structuring axes: the conception of poverty on one hand and the rules of conviviality on the other. Thus, in the first axis, we engage in a discussion that considers the uses of poverty both as a privileged means for religious actors to access resources and public concessions in the realm of social assistance, and as an efficient form of social penetration.

In this regard, it is crucial to consider how, within the framework of Liberation, the “option for the poor” emerges not primarily from “sweeping collective processes that impact social structures,” but rather from the “awakening of consciousness” and the disillusionment with practices that enable each small collective to perceive itself as the “agent of its own history” (Sader, 1988, p. 165). conviviality is founded on the concept of participation, a term derived from theological discourse that, as described by André Corten (1996), manifests as a discursive form generating a “pious effect”. This effect derives from a prophetic narrative that perceives divine signs within events, captivating the imagination and fostering a profound sense of active “participation”. The resulting “pious effect” forms a distinct image of the political Subject as the “people of God”, serving as the foundation for collective action. Consequently, Corten concludes that the objective of Liberation Theology was to imbue political discourse with a spirit of “participatory mobilization”.

The grammar of Prosperity positions poverty as a condition to be overcome, presenting an understanding of rights that is detached from the concept of citizenship. Instead, it emphasizes a multitude of rights related to property, access to goods, and political participation. According to Montero (2009), these formulations regarding poverty are shaped by the imperative of reciprocity, revealing the dynamics of giving and receiving. This is why neo-Pentecostal discursive practices assert that individuals should exercise their ‘right to prosperity’, which articulates notions of ‘social inclusion’ and ‘legal order’ in a distinct manner, diverging from the ideas of fraternity or transitional community found in Catholic discourse. In this grammar, conviviality is deeply connected to entrepreneurship and self-improvement. Consequently, their aim is to transform society through individual conversion, the internalization of biblical morals, and novel approaches such as expanding social initiatives, engaging in partisan politics, attaining positions of power in both the private and public sectors, and utilizing radio and television for religious purposes (Mariano, 2014, p. 45).

Finally, it is important to highlight that the distinction between the grammars of Liberation and Prosperity in terms of solidarity can be relevant for navigating the disputes surrounding the development and implementation of various public policies, ranging from child protection to food security. This reveals how the language of the State requires the mediation of religious agents and their corresponding perspectives on community action. In this sense, the field of social assistance and its solidarity practices frequently make use of religious language, which proves persuasive in the realm of political imagination, whether it is to serve the “People of God” or to ensure “abundant life”.

References

CORTEN, A. Os Pobres e o Espírito Santo: O Pentecostalismo no Brasil. Petrópolis: Vozes, 1996.

MARIANO, R. Neopentecostais: sociologia do novo pentecostalismo no Brasil. 5. ed. São Paulo: Edições Loyola, 2014.

MONTERO, P. Secularização e Espaço Público: a Reinvenção do Pluralismo Religioso no Brasil. Etnográfica [Online], vol. 13 (1), 2009.

SADER, E. Quando novos personagens entram em casa: experiências, falas e lutas dos trabalhadores da Grande São Paulo. Rio de Janeiro: Paz e Terra, 1988.

This research explores the experiences of Sunni Muslims in the United Kingdom during the Covid-19 pandemic and their engagement with theological frameworks in navigating the challenges posed by the indeterminate conditions of the pandemic. Drawing upon ethnographic observations, the abstract examines how these individuals justified, resisted, and negotiated public health measures using Qur’anic ethics and prophetic narrations, revealing the intersections of theological modes of reasoning and public health rationality. The study highlights the epistemic struggles and discursive possibilities that emerge at the nexus of theological reasoning and pandemic life.

This paper first addresses the temporal dynamics of Islamic tradition, challenging the secular conceptions of time prevalent in epidemiological discourses. Such discourses warn of religious fatalism in Muslim communities, assuming that reliance on God may lead to passivity in the face of the pandemic. The abstract insists that epidemiological anxieties reduce religiosity to a matter of belief and reinforce the division between belief and practice. It argues that Islamic practices during the pandemic – such as socially distanced congregational prayer or changes in burial rites – do not merely respond to crises but actualize latent histories embedded in religious texts, confounding binaries between precedence and innovation. Leaning on William Mazzarella’s notion of “constitutive resonance”  the abstract highlights how the present moment illuminates novel connections between the past and the present, underscoring the theological temporality inherent in Islamic epistemic practices.

Furthermore, the abstract explores the assumptions and biases present in secular discourses, particularly in the context of the healthcare system. It discusses how the perception of fatalism among Muslim communities can be misinterpreted, leading to stereotypes and overlooking the diverse ways in which religious beliefs and practices intersect with public health. By referencing the work of scholars like Jocelyne Cesari and Basit Iqbal, the abstract examines the tension between faith and secular frameworks, challenging the assumption that Muslim forms of life are inherently incompatible with liberal ideals.

Drawing from an ethnographic example, the abstract delves into the ritual transformations within the Muslim community during the pandemic. It discusses how congregational prayers and funerary rites were adapted to comply with epidemiological mandates, highlighting the shifts in temporal structures and the complex relationship between tradition and the present. By invoking the work of Talal Asad, it emphasizes that Islamic forms of life disclose time rather than being confined by it.

Finally, the abstract presents a personal narrative of a Muslim interlocutor, Syeda, who reflects on the pandemic as a fulfillment of prophecy and a sign of the imminent end of days. It explores her belief in the divine hikma (or wisdom) behind the pandemic and the subtle ironies she perceives in the normalization of Islamic practices by Western society. Indexing a discursive tradition that told her that God is all-benevolent and all-wise, even as He is unknowable, Syeda viewed the complexity of divine workings as a tangible source of delight even as she conceded that her speculative claims were perhaps no more than conjecture. For Syeda, the shifting landscape of society under the pandemic provided a set of endless signifiers – the closing of pubs, the institution of masks, the rising health consciousness – each one indexing a divine address pointing to God’s perplexity and wisdom, qualities attested by the stories of tradition.

This abstract contributes to anthropological discussions and to conversations in religious studies by illuminating the multifaceted ways in which theological reasoning, tradition, and temporalities intersect with the challenges posed by the Covid-19 pandemic. It calls for a nuanced understanding of the diverse experiences of Muslims and challenges the binary oppositions between faith and secularism, belief and practice, and tradition and innovation. By highlighting the complex interplay between religious commitments, public health mandates, and notions of divine wisdom, the abstract offers insights into the registers of Muslim life during times of crisis.

Works Cited

Abeysekara, Ananda. “Religious Studies’ Mishandling of Origin and Change: Time, Tradition, and Form of Life in Buddhism.” Cultural Critique 98 (2018): 22-71.

Asad, Talal. Formations of the Secular: Christianity, Islam, Modernity. Stanford University Press, 2003.

Asad, Talal. “Thinking about tradition, religion, and politics in Egypt today.” Critical Inquiry 42, no. 1 (2015): 166-214.

Auerbach, Erich. Mimesis: The Representation of Reality in Western Literature-New and Expanded Edition. Vol. 1. Princeton University Press, 2013[1953].

Berlant, Lauren. Cruel Optimism. Duke University Press, 2011.

Benjamin, Walter. The Arcades Project. Harvard University Press, 1999[1982].

Cesari, Jocelyne. “Muslims in European and American public spheres and the limits of the liberal theories of citizenship.” (2012).

Fabian Johannes (2002 [1983]) Time and the Other: How Anthropology Makes Its Object, 2nd edition. New York: Columbia University Press.

Iqbal, Basit Kareem. “Asad and Benjamin: Chronopolitics of tragedy in the anthropology of secularism.” Anthropological Theory 20, no. 1 (2020): 77-96.

Mazzarella, William. The Mana of Mass Society. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 2017.

Pandolfo, Stefania. Knot of the Soul: Madness, Psychoanalysis, Islam. University of Chicago Press, 2018.

Shahid, Hina, and Salman Waqar. “Covid-19 and Ethnic Minority Communities—We Need Better Data to Protect Marginalised Groups.” British Medical Journal, Opinion. BMJ, July 7, 2020. https://blogs.bmj.com/bmj/2020/07/07/covid-19-and-ethnic-minority-communities-we-need-better-data-to-protect-marginalised-groups/

The paper brings an experience of Croatia, and some other post-communist countries, which have had different trajectories of modernization and welfare state development compared to majorities of Western European countries. However, such an experience might not be just particular. It has broader relevance in two ways: (1) it shapes the practice and discourse about solidarities to various social groups in Europe in general, and (2) it can contribute to the understanding of how solidarity is framed in circumstances of rising social fragmentation and the failure of inherited welfare state models to meet the needs of such fragmented constituents.

The paper is structured in three parts.

The first part is based on the European Value Survey (EVS) data on concerns about the living conditions of various groups. It presents data from 2017-2018, the last wave of the EWS research, for selected Western and Central/Eastern European countries. The first results show differences between these two groups of countries, but also that the Central/Eastern European region is not homogeneous and that there are important differences among the countries researched. However, the main difference comes from the fact of which group is in question. Concerns about living conditions are pretty different concerning various social groups. One angle is about the level of concerns (from immediate neighbours to regional, national, European, and global levels), and the other one is about groups of concerns (unemployed, elderly, sick and disabled, and immigrants). This speaks against the simple and straightforward generalization about different countries’ levels and deepness of solidarities. It also raises a question of what reveals the current way of researching solidarity in the EWS questionnaire, e.g., is there a need to improve ways we research solidarity in quantitative research?

The paper’s second and main part is based on the Croatian experience from a comparative perspective. It focuses on how institutionalized religions and faith-based organizations have responded to what has been termed a “refugee crisis” since 2015/2016. The “influx” of refugees called for solidarity, which was implemented in quite different ways. The first was the official rhetoric of major religious communities which mainly followed the official teachings of respective religions about strangers and those in need. The second was concrete help to refugees, which was, at the beginning, mainly humanitarian, without invoking any human rights discourse. As such, humanitarian help was important but was somewhat limited in scope. However, as the “refugee crisis” has continued, and as the country has recently faced new immigrants due to the labour force shortage, the gap between humanitarian and non-interest stances and engagement and advocacy on behalf of these groups has been deepening. The latter is performed by a few non-governmental organizations, among them faith-based organizations. Their work has questioned how the majority, including dominant religions, understand and practice solidarity. This also points to different images of solidarities – the one we got from quantitative research, like EVS, and the other by researching various groups’ concrete experiences. The third is how the state has responded to new demands via its welfare arrangements. So far, the welfare state has seen such demands as temporary, not pointing to the need for any significant restructuring of existing welfare arrangements. This part of the paper is based on several concluding and ongoing research, some of them comparative (e.g. Cosan Eke, Đurić Milovanović and Zrinščak 2023, Čepo, Čehulić and Zrinščak 2020; Giordan and Zrinščak, 2018; Župarić Iljić 2020; Župarić Iljić and Gregurović 2020).

The third part of the paper has yet to be developed, but it aims to theoretically question the way notions of solidarity, the welfare state, (post)modern, and secularization have been discussed. There are a few issues which prompt a more comprehensive discussion. Two of them seem the most relevant. The first is how to take into account the welfare state fragmentation, which is conditioned by the inability of the welfare state to respond to the needs of the traditionally understood “constituent” population and, above all, to understand quite diverse needs which people with different backgrounds have been bringing. The second is to differentiate between religion’s general role in society, religion’s role in shaping narratives about welfare, and the specific role of religion in meeting the welfare needs of various social groups. Various research and those on which this paper is based conclude that general theories on the welfare state, secularization and post(modernization) do not help in analyzing the specific contexts. The question then is whether we need to ignore such particular contexts, or they ask for a broader theoretical rethinking.

References:

Cosan Eke, D., Đurić Milovanović, A. and Zrinščak, S. (2023) Comparative Perspective on the Role of Religious Actors in Interfaith Dialogue. Paper presented at the MIGREL Conference, Stavanger, Norway, 14-16 June 2023.

Giordan, G. and Zrinščak, S. (2018) One pope, two churches: Refugees, human rights and religion in Croatia and Italy. Social Compass, 65(1):62-78.

Čepo, D. Čehulić, M. and Zrinščak, S. (2020) What a Difference Does Time Make? Framing Media Discourse on Refugees and Migrants in Croatia in Two Periods. Hrvatska i komparativna javna uprava / Croatian and Comparative Public Administration 20(3):469-496.

Župarić-Iljić, D. (2020) Reshaped Roles of Faith-Based Actors Toward Refugees in the Balkan Corridor Phase and its Aftermath. In: M. C. Jacobsen, E. B. Gebre, D. Župarić-Iljić (eds.) Cosmopolitanism, Migration and Universal Human Rights, pp. 75-89. Springer.

Župarić Iljić, D. and Gregurović, M (2020) Dismantling Security Discourses and Threat Perception Related to Asylum Seekers and Refugees in Croatia. In: M. C. Jacobsen, E. B. Gebre, D. Župarić-Iljić (eds.) Cosmopolitanism, Migration and Universal Human Rights, pp. 181-201. Springer.

At the end of the 1960s, the quickly changing social fabric of the Brussels metropole unveiled two groups in need of support. First, the poor were visibly present in the urban center, making the capital a prime example of the continued existence of poverty in affluent societies. Second, non-European labor migrants struggled to find their footing in the city, facing harsh labor conditions, cultural hindrances, and emerging xenophobia. With their focus on caretaking for underprivileged groups, catholic inspired solidarity initiatives were among the prime organizers of poor relief and migrant care in the city. Alarmed by dwindling church attendance and the unraveling of the catholic social cohesion, and spurred by the Second Vatican Council (1962-1965), they returned to safeguarding the wellbeing of the local population in need. Because migration and poverty were both perceived as pressing social issues stemming from modernization from the end of the sixties onwards, and because both issues were mainly being addressed by catholic inspired initiatives, we will study how catholic inspired solidarity initiatives conceptualized the emerging topics of poverty and immigration and, subsequently, how these topics were (not) intertwined in their operations.             

Recently, these postwar urban solidarity initiatives have started to catch the attention of historians, yet their scope is predominantly limited to either poverty or migrants. While adding much needed insights into the role of religious solidarity initiatives for different societal problems, this approach leads to a fragmentized understanding of historical realities. Sociological literature and historical sources both show how this divide is mostly artificial, since poverty and migration were inherently connected, if not by the social intersections of both groups, then through the hindrances they experienced. Both the poor and the immigrated populated Brussels’ unsafe and polluted neighborhoods, faced poor housing conditions, were significantly more prone to health issues and struggled to stabilize their daily sustenance. Consequently, they both grew isolated from the city’s social and cultural sphere, left to suffer the metropole’s anonymat, and often experienced the intersectionality of poverty and migrant problems.

By combining historical research on (1) catholic poverty initiatives and (2) catholic labor migrant initiatives, we want to gain more knowledge on how both societal problems were perceived as having mutual interests and, if so, if this resulted in the cooperation between poverty initiatives and migrant initiatives. In our research, we will combine a diverse range of catholic solidarity initiatives, chosen for their variety of activities (including a youth center, material poor relief, primary care, commune, self-advocacy organization), their diversity of lifespan (spanning from the century old organization of Saint Vincent de Paul to initiatives that took off in the middle of the nineteen seventies), and their different catholic inspirations (including initiatives of the redemptorists, oblates and (secular) priests).    

Through the analysis of interviews with founders and volunteers, published sources like magazines and books, and internal documents like annual reports and meeting reports, we hypothesize that these catholic based solidarity initiatives did in fact consider migration and poverty connected topics, but chose to prioritize their care towards either ‘the poor’ or ‘the immigrants’. The themes were intertwined, but the audiences were not. This caused the Brussels’ caritative field to be split, established organizations continuing their care for the poor, while new initiatives came to be known for their solidarity towards Moroccan and Turkish immigrants. This division became already apparent in the late 1960s and crystallized further through the next decade as the initiatives expanded their activities and scope. During the 1980s, they professionalized further as either providers of poor-relief or migrant care, spurred on by government calls for rationalization in the non-profit welfare sector.  

We consider four possible explanations for this divide. First, we argue that the choice to cater towards either migrants or the poor was pragmatic and needs-based. The poverty initiatives had a long-built expertise and continued reaching out to their usual audiences, be it through adapted and modernized approaches. The studied migrant organizations, however, started out without defining their target audience, yet quickly felt compelled to fill Brussels’ vacuum and provide migrant care. Second, the divide also mirrors how these catholic based solidarity initiatives understood the social complexity of the city. Even though they came to be isolated in poor neighborhoods together, and even though their day-to-day problems were similar, the Belgian poor and foreign migrants were understood to occupy different and separated ‘social margins’.

Third, we look at how these organizations constructed distinguished cultural frameworks for the poor and the immigrated. People in poverty were counted among the emerging ‘fourth world’, a class of isolated, underprivileged people who developed their own dynamics of meaning-making and social behavior. The immigrated Moroccan and Turkish communities, alternatively, were understood to be culturally different a priori – from both the Belgian population and the Belgian poor. Per consequence, we argue that these ‘fourth world’ and ‘migrant’ cultures informed the religious and spiritual approaches towards the respective groups, particularly considering the proceedings of Vatican II. Catholic based solidarity organizations understood the poor as increasingly secularized and fallen prey to the vices of the modern city, and therefore sought to moralize them using catholic narratives. To connect with Moroccan and Turkish immigrants, however, the organizations relied on ideas of pluralism and interreligious dialogue to end their social and cultural isolation.

Bibliography

Cantillon, Bea et al. “Twintig jaar armoede en beleid inzake armoedebestrijding.” Economisch en sociaal tijdschrift, no. 1 (1996): 5–36.    

Deslé, Els. “Brussel 1968-1995: de politieke constructie van een migrantenprobleem. Een inleiding,” n.d., 17.

Holohan, Carole. “The Second Vatican Council, Poverty and Irish Mentalities.” History of European Ideas 46, no. 7 (October 2, 2020): 1009–26.          

Horn, Gerd-Rainer. The Spirit of Vatican II: Western European Progressive Catholicism in the Long Sixties. First edition. Oxford, United Kingdom: Oxford University Press, 2015.          

Kesteloot, Christian, and Cees Cortie. “Housing Turks and Moroccans in Brussels and Amsterdam: The Difference between Private and Public Markets.” Urban Studies 35, no. 10 (October 1998): 1835–53.

Van Hamme, Gilles, Taïs Grippa, and Mathieu Van Criekingen. “Migratory Movements and Dynamics of Neighbourhoods in Brussels.” Translated by Jane Corrigan. Brussels Studies. La Revue Scientifique Pour Les Recherches Sur Bruxelles, March 21, 2016.              

“Waaile Zaain van Muilebeik”. 35 Jaar Foyer in Multi-Etnisch Brussel. Brussel: Foyer vzw, 2004.

«When the fog begins to thicken on the horizons of our lives, we turn our eyes and our thoughts to this sanctuary, and we find here safety, relief and peace». The passage comes from the periodical of the Italian Catholic community in New York – the “Bollettino”, published in September 1929 – and tells the story of a sanctuary – called “The Madonna of 115th Street” (see Orsi, 2002) – which was recreated by Italian emigrants in memory of their belonging and used in the city as a refuge in the face of the difficulties and traumas they met after the arrival.

One century later, Italy has gone from being a country of emigration to one of immigration, and the diversification of the religious panorama represents one of the main implications that is marking this unexpected transition (Pace 2014). Several urban areas have experienced important «processes of re-sacralisation», namely international migrants have «readjusted and revived» abandoned and disused places where to transplant their religious traditions and recreate a transnational continuity with the motherland. These «re-sacralised spaces» also offer a hospitable and welcoming atmosphere, provide social capital and ties, help to soften pressures through emotional and psychological comfort as well as often sponsor altruistic activities and different forms of aid tailored on the difficulties newcomers may encounter in a new country (see Hirschman 2004).  

In this line, the proposal focuses on the role of religions in terms of solidarity by examining how immigrants’ religious communities have progressively become welfare hubs that have incorporated a multifaceted range of social questions, which are not (or only partially) covered by public services and are closely correlated to the different social needs emerging from the process of settlement into the receiving context: a role we call «welfare from below».

First, the paper introduces its meaning for the Italian case by considering the «welfare-diamond»: a theoretical framework often adopted in the literature for the study of the main sources of guarantees for individual well-being and against the risks of exclusion (e.g., Ferrera 2005; Jenson 2015). In this sense, the role of immigrants’ religions takes on particular significance in relation to each corner of this diamond, namely: «state, market, family and community». Specifically, their solidarity function emerges by considering the different institutional barriers to accessing public welfare services – migrants’ social rights are often linked to the kind of legal status, time of residence and job position –, the lower economic incomes (and saves) migrants often dispose for buying private social securities as wells as the lack and/or fragility of extended parental networks in the receiving country. Faced with these limits, the immigrants’ religious associationism represents an emerging networking dynamic in the sphere of the community. Through self-organised and self-funded aid groups and information desks/offices (often informal) as well as direct supports and caring/assistance relations, they offer responses that can difficultly come from the other sources of the diamond, transforming in this way the religious spaces into welfare points of reference for the foreign population.

Second, the paper empirically examines the issue by using a wide dataset that results from a research project on immigrants’ religions in Italy, which involved a total of 348 religious communities identified in the territory of Lombardy. The proposal builds on 120 semi-structured interviews collected in six different religious areas «Orthodox parishes, Neo-Evangelical churches, Catholic ethnic communities, Islamic centres, Sikh and Buddhist temples», a prolonged series of ethnographic observations (collected in a sample of these communities), and on various documents (e.g., leaflets, information on social media pages, newspaper articles) related to the forms of support sponsored in various cities. These may include first aids points (e.g., soup kitchens and food banks), emergency health and psycho-social assistance, advice and help desks for bureaucratic issues and for juridical status, information for jobs and rooms, fundraisings for situations of economic need and fragility, but also language courses and citizenship classes, accompaniment of families and young people, and finally aid practices transnational.

Third, the ways in which the «welfare from below» develops will be a key argument of discussion. Data will be clustered and analysed by considering (1) the concrete modes of gathering resources, (2) the complexity of the altruistic offer, (3) the types of the links these communities can establish with other civil society/volunteering actors for providing supports, and (4) the grade of openness towards possible users. These are four key analytical lenses that we synthetically identify through the formula of the four Ms: “mutualism, multiplicity, mediating and mission” which are then used for a typology on the variety of the welfare experiences our research has identified for the case of immigrants’ religions. 

Four we conclude by addressing the implications that derive from this emerging religious-based solidarity. In particular, the fact that immigrants through their sacred communities are trying to provide in autonomy the means for their well-being will be discussed in terms of «bonding/bridging activism» in order to explore in which ways and «to what extent» this self-promoted solidarity can (or cannot) benefit their processes of adaptation and inclusion in the host society. This argument, in addition, can be useful for comparative studies in other countries which present different religious geographies and welfare schemes.

Bibliography

Ferrera, M. (2005) The boundaries of welfare: European integration and the new spatial politics of social protection. Oxford University Press.

Hirschman, C. (2004) The role of religion in the origins and adaptation of immigrant groups in the United States. International Migration Review, 38.3: 1206-1233.

Jenson, J. (2015) Social innovation: redesigning the welfare diamond. In A. Nicholls, J. Simon and M. Gabriel (eds) New frontiers in social innovation research, pp. 89-106.

Orsi, R. A. (2010) The Madonna of 115th street: faith and community in Italian Harlem, 1880-1950. Yale University Press (third edition, first edition published: 1985, second edition: 2002).

Pace, E. (2014) Increasing Religious Diversity in a Society Monopolized by Catholicism, In G. Giordan and E. Pace (eds) Religious Pluralism. Framing Religious Diversity in the Contemporary World, Springer, pp. 93-114.

Religiously inspired solidarity initiatives did/do not necessarily limit their actions to the needy within their own country’s – or even continent’s – borders. Throughout the second half of the 20^th century, a great number of Belgian Roman Catholic organizations emerged that engaged with the poor in the “Third World”, leading to a substantial Catholic presence in the developmental aid sector.[1] These organizations had to navigate a secularizing Belgian society in order to remain eligible for donations and sponsorships to guarantee their operations. Such a secularized modernity, however, hardly exists/ed outside Western Europe: other parts of the world, among which the fields of action of these development aid organizations, were/are subject to radically different religious dynamics.[2] My research aims to provide insight into the influence that a transcontinental action field might have (had) on the position of faith in the self-identification of initiative-takers.

To do so, I will explore whether the religious revival in the late 1970s in Congo impacted the discourses in internal and external communication of the Heverlee-based Annonciade congregation. The Annonciades have been active in the South-West of the Congo (Kwango) since 1931. Through their propaganda, which mainly took the form of yearbooks, publications, lectures and exhibits, they attempted to motivate the Belgian public to engage in financial support for this evangelizing mission. Following the Second World War, however, they too had to adapt their discourse to the secularizing tendencies in Belgium and to decolonizing efforts in Asia and Africa. Because of these dynamics, the Annonciades gradually rebranded their activities, moving away from notions of “evangelization” and “civilization” towards one of “material development” from the 1960s onwards.[3] This becomes visible through the discourse in Ancilla Domini, the yearbook targeted at alumni and sympathizers of their schools in Belgium. Donations were no longer needed to “spread the word of God to the heathens”, but to “help people raise their standard of life”.[4] Starting from the 1980s, the notion of “solidarity with the poorest of the poor” was invoked to motivate Belgians to support projects, raise money, or donate clothing and school books.[5]

This discursive secularization was complemented by an organizational shift in 1985, with the foundation of a non-profit mission fund that separated the everyday financial workings of the congregation from the development aid for Africa. Although this fund was still “missionary” in name and spirit at the time of its foundation, it laicized over the following two decades. In 2004, it transformed into the predominantly lay-run “Blik op Afrika” (“View on Afrika”). This non-profit engages in basic development aid initiatives in the fields of education, health care, and agriculture.[6] Today, the involvement of the Annonciade sisters themselves in the non-profit is limited; almost all responsibilities are transferred to lay men with years of professional experience in their field. It seems as if faith moved to the background of the solidarity initiative of the Belgian Annonciades in Congo linearly.

While Belgium was secularizing, however, Zairean society was subject to very different religious dynamics in the second half of the twentieth century. The late 1970s/begin 1980s were characterized by a substantial religious revival. This period marked the mushrooming of Pentecostal Churches, but the Roman Catholic Church equally gained momentum.[7] The Annonciades observed a substantial rise in vocations among Congolese women. Their novitiate, that had been founded in 1956 but closed down again in the 1960s because of a lack of vocations, was reopened in 1979, and ultimately transferred from the countryside to the urban center of Kikwit in 1982 because the original building had become too small to accommodate all the new sisters. In total, the congregation welcomed seventeen new sisters from 1979 to 1986, while only five postulants entered in the sixties and seventies combined.[8]

I will compare how the Annonciades presented themselves to the wider public in their yearbooks on the one hand, and their self-perception as it becomes visible through internal circular documents on the other, in order to provide insight into the complex relationship between faith and secularization in a transcontinental Catholic solidarity initiative. A discourse analysis will be conducted on both “Ancilla Domini”, their yearbook, and the “Annuncianda”, an internal communication letter.[9] The analysis will show that, although the discourse in the yearbooks does secularize increasingly, the circular letters display a return to religious language once the number of vocations in Zaire raised.

Based on these significant discursive differences, I will argue that the religious dynamics specific to the Congo, their field of action, allowed for the Belgian Annonciades to reestablish the position of faith in how they make sense of their presence in Zaire. The Congolese religious revival brought the congregation’s evangelizing potential back into the picture, which allowed for the sisters to profile themselves as both catholic inspired development workers and as bearers of the faith. They were no longer just living by the Word of God, they were once again spreading it. The idea of evangelization thus never disappeared completely from their minds; it resurfaced in an ad-hoc way, as a response to transcontinental evolutions. This allowed for the sisters to once again fully embrace Catholic proselytism as a major inspiration for their presence in the Congo and a crucial marker of their identity, even though they could not claim it in every discursive space.

[1] For example Broederlijk delen in 1961, Memisa in 1988, DISOP in 1961…

[2] Ignace Pollet, Benjamin Steegen, and Idesbald Goddeeris, ‘Giving Religion a Place in Development Cooperation: The Perspective of Belgian NGO’s’, Forum for Development Studies, 2020: 2.

[3] Idesbald Goddeeris, Missionarissen: Geschiedenis, herinnering, dekolonisering (Leuven: LannooCampus, 2021); Maarten Langhendries, ‘Nonkel Pater. De figuur van de missionaris als feit en fictie’ (KU Leuven. Department Social and Cultural Anthropology, 2017): 17.

[4] Ancilla Domini, 1965-1966: 80.; for examples: Ancilla Domini 1986-1987: 45., Ancilla Domini 1988-1989: 52.

[5] Ancilla Domini, 1985-1986: “de armsten der armen”: 67

[6] ‘Onze projecten’, Blik op Afrika. (https://www.blikopafrika.be/projecten).

[7] I. Ndaywel è Nziem, La société zaïroise dans le miroir de son discours religieux (1990 – 1993)., Cahiers africains 6 (Bruxelles: Institut africain-CEDAF, 1993); Katrien Pype, ‘Dancing For God or The Devil: Pentecostal Discourse on Popular Dance in Kinshasa’, Journal of Religion in Africa, Vol. 36 (3-4), 2006, 296–218: 300.

[8] Ria Christens, Terra incognita: 75 jaar annuntiaten in Afrika (Heverlee: Annuntiaten, 2006): 386-196.

[9] Archives of the Annuntiates (Heverlee), 5.5.1. ‘Brieven van medezusters’ 1960-1968’.; Archives of the Annuntiates (Heverlee), 5.5.2. ‘Annuncianda 1968-1993’.

During the nineteenth and first half of the twentieth century, the domain of poor relief and public assistance in Belgium went through important transformations. Industrialization, urbanization, and population growth in the nineteenth century contributed to increasing proletarization, and poverty came to be seen as endemic to wage labor. At the same time, Belgium’s constitution foresaw little social legislation and public assistance to alleviate poverty, leaving a vast field of action to private social initiatives. Driven by the observation of these socio-economic issues, as well as by a renewed apostolic energy spurred by the religious revival of the 1840s, a plethora of Catholic social organizations dedicated to relieving poverty through charity was created in Belgium. These organizations could take the form of religious congregations, societies of apostolic life, or lay associations, and they could focus on a specific group of needy (children, elderly, the sick, etc.) or on the poor in general. Because of the great need for social assistance among the poor, but also because of concerns for the morality and lack of religious knowledge among the lower classes, these Catholic social organizations were able to play an important role in Belgium’s welfare economy. However, as time progressed, these organizations received increasing criticism for their paternalistic attitude and religious motivations. From the late nineteenth century onwards, they were confronted with fierce competition from emancipatory social organizations, such as workers’ unions. After the First World War, moreover, the notable expansion of social legislation and public social provisions added to the idea that private Catholic social organizations had lost much of their former relevance.

              In historiography, the shift of private charity to emancipatory social organizations and public provisions was for a long time interpreted as a victory of rational, effective solidarity over religious, ineffective paternalism, which took place congruently with the process of secularization. Recent research has shown, however, that this evolution was not linear and various sources of social aid existed alongside each other, creating a ‘mixed economy of welfare’ that took on different forms at different times. This perspective calls into question the idea that religious social assistance was replaced by more rational and secularized modes of social care because it was unable to provide structural solutions to the problem of poverty. Rather, it posits that the welfare economy expanded to include various forms of social existence, and that religious initiatives were able to significantly shape the nature of the welfare economy that resulted from these developments, thereby leaving their stamp on the welfare state as it developed after the Second World War as well. However, these studies tend to highlight the contribution of ’progressive’ religious organizations, e.g. Christian-Democratic initiatives, thereby leaving open the question how ‘traditional’ Catholic charities dedicated to poor relief dealt with socio-economic and political changes in society and the expansion of this welfare economy, while still maintaining the religious foundation of their work. This latter question is of particular importance because the historiographical focus on the effects and efficacy of social assistance has obscured our understanding of its purpose, which, I will argue, needs to consider its function as a religious practice in order to adequately grasp the way Catholic charities construed and maintained their role in society.

              In this paper, I examine the ways in which traditional Catholic charity was constructed as both a religious practice and a social service, and how the tensions between both functions affected the goals of charity towards the poor as well as its concrete practices. Specifically, I will focus on the period between Belgium’s independence and the Second World War, during which the issue of poverty sparked intense debate and social conflict between Catholics and secularists, progressives and conservatives, ultimately laying the groundworks for the Belgian welfare state as we know it today. Two Catholic lay organizations dedicated to poor relief will serve as my case studies: the Society of Saint Vincent (for men) and the Ladies of Charity of Saint Vincent (for women). Unlike many other Catholic social organizations, the Ladies and the Society did not focus on a particular group of poor, such as the poor sick, but, in principle, offered their services to all types of poor, whom they helped by means of home visits during which they distributed material relief and moral guidance. Because these were lay associations, moreover, they did not require their members to take religious vows, in addition to being highly action-oriented rather than focusing on contemplation. While lay charitable associations were not new, lay apostolate gained significant popularity in the nineteenth century, offering a means for religious practice and social engagement without the requirement of seclusion.

              To shed more light on the relationship between the spiritual purpose and social goals of Catholic charity during modernity, this study examines three central topics in the history of the Society and the Ladies of Saint Vincent against the background of socio-economic, political, and religious change. First, I investigate the ways in which these organizations constructed their spiritual purpose and identity, thereby uncovering the relationship between, on the one hand, the expression of religious devotion and the pursuit of self-sanctification, and, on the other, the religious underpinnings of social engagement and the impulse towards proselytism through charity. Second, I examine how ideas about deservingness and the maximalization of spiritual gain translated into the categorization of the poor according to worthiness, as well as the development of various strategies to approach, help, and guide the poor. Lastly, I contextualize these strategies and goals within the Society and Ladies’ efforts to contribute to the construction of modernity on the basis of a Christian worldview, thereby shedding light on the organizations’ search for continued legitimacy amidst societal change and on the process through which Catholic piety was reconciled with life in modern society.

A common concern within government agencies and academic literature regarding Faith-Based Organizations (FBO’s) is that the increasing attention and recognition for service delivery through FBO’s may conceal a neoliberal agenda, which transfers the responsibility of welfare services to civil society actors who, based on religious beliefs, promote a charity-focused paradigm. This paradigm would disregard structural causes of inequality and vulnerability, and thus constitute a significant regress in the way societies address inequalities. However, some authors have challenged this assumption by highlighting subtle forms of resistance and politicization among FBOs, beyond overtly activist ones. While most research focuses on specific institutional contexts and government retreat from welfare provision, this paper adopts a broader perspective by examining FBOs through the lens of citizenship, specifically citizenship-as-practice. This concept encompasses citizens’ contributions to co-creating society through political participation, activism, citizen initiatives, and everyday public and private behaviours. FBOs, serving as spaces where citizens gather to deliver services in the semi-public sphere, mediate this political dimension of citizenship. They offer platforms that expand citizens’ opportunities to practice citizenship beyond what is possible as an individual, but within the limits defined by the initiative.

Different ways in which FBOs facilitate citizenship-as-practice reflect diverse approaches to the existing social structures. Some FBOs engage in depoliticized “active citizenship,” emphasizing care and prosocial behavior that reinforces concerns about a mere charity approach. More activist FBOs demonstrate overtly antagonistic citizenship, while “acts of citizenship” that challenge the status quo and harbor political claims offer less obvious pathways for questioning existing structures. Additionally, there are more subtle forms of practicing citizenship within FBOs, such as signaling the needs of the target group to government officials or attempting to change attitudes and behaviors of other citizens. These nuanced approaches have received limited attention in current literature.

To address this gap in the literature, this paper presents findings from fieldwork conducted in two Flemish cities, Oostende and Leuven, involving 13 FBO’s selected based on a set variation criteria. The data, comprising semi-structured interviews, document analysis, and participant observations with individuals involved in the initiatives and government actors interacting with the FBOs, sheds new light on the capacity of FBOs to mediate the political dimension of citizenship among their constituents. The research uncovers a multitude of ways in which FBOs enable citizenship-as-practice, ranging from depoliticized prosocial behavior to antagonistic activism and everything in between. In these practices, religiosity and citizenship intertwine, challenging conventional notions of citizenship as secular and religiosity as private. Instead, they provide novel perspectives on religious citizenship through the specific manifestations of religiosity in the public sphere via FBO activities.

References:

Atia, M. (2012). ‘A Way to Paradise’: Pious Neoliberalism, Islam, and Faith-Based Development. Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 102(4), 808-827.

Dekker, P. (2019). From Pillarized Active Membership to Populist Active Citizenship: The Dutch Do Democracy. VOLUNTAS: International Journal of Voluntary and Nonprofit Organizations, 30(1), 74-85. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11266-018-00058-4

Isin, E. F., & Nielsen, G. M. (2008). Acts of citizenship. Zed Books.

Williams, A., Cloke, P., & Thomas, S. (2012). Co-Constituting Neoliberalism: Faith-Based Organisations, Co-Option, and Resistance in the UK. Environment and Planning A, 44(6), 1479-1501. https://doi.org/10.1068/a44507

In 2019-2022, I led two research projects (one basic, one applied) about the churches – society relationships in the Czech Republic in the context of the progressive financial separation of church and state started by the adoption of the so-called „restitution law“ in 2012. In these years, the churches had to decide how to survive financially when the state contributions to the churches budgets would end. For some churches or congregations, it meant the existential thread.

The implications of the restitution process for religious-secular relationships may be interpreted in multiple ways: On the one hand, it reinforced the churches’ autonomy and economic power. On the other hand, as the state’s financial support has begun to vanish, churches have been forced to seek new methods of cooperation with secular society, especially at the local level. Some churches chose a strategy giving preference to co-funding from non-church sources whenever possible. This strategy requires close cooperation with non-church funding sources, adapting to their norms and values, and proving the project’s relevance to non-church audiences. Religious contributions to projects or services adapted for secular funding might thus be hard to identify (Spalová, Gajdoš and Nosál, 2023). it is especially true for the organisations such as Caritas Czech Republic (RCC) or Diakonie Czech Republic (Evangelical Church of Czech Brethren) – the big professional social work organisations whose budgets are financed by their founding churches only up to 2 – 3%.

During the workshop, I would like to discuss the potential benefit of Dalferth’s unconventional approach to postsecular for understanding the contemporary shifts in religious-secular conceptualisations in Czech society. These shifts can be particularly well seen in the efforts of the Caritas and Diakonie leadership to imprint a “Christian character” to their services. This Christian, religious character is not constructed as horizontally opposed to similar secular organisations; the secular condition (Taylor 2007) is taken for granted. The religious distinctiveness of the services should be expressed by values such as mercy, fortitude, community and hope. But the workers nor the clients are usually believers so they understand and practice these values in hybrid ways blurring the categories of religious and secular. The Czech situation could fit Arie Molendijk’s conclusion that ‘the emergence of the “postsecular” refers to very real phenomena, the most important being the “intertwinement” of the secular and the religious in sometimes new forms’ (2015: 110)

Dalferth’s provocative conceptualisation, which Stoeckl and Uzlaner (2019) would rank among the postmodern currents of thinking on postsecularity, seems to be the most suitable for Czech society. Building on empirical research of apatheism in East Germany, Slovenia, Estonia, Czechia and the Scandinavian countries, Dalferth (2010: 335) claims that a ‘postsecular’ society is one in which religion may or may not be present and practised, but in which this fact is of no particular importance to the political or any other (non-religious) sub-system of society’. The condition for such a postsecular society is a state’s indifference to the question of religion or non-religion. The ideal postsecular states do not take a stance on religion or non-religion; this question has become irrelevant to their self-understanding. Even if this is not an entirely accurate description of the current Czech state, there are surely trends in that direction.

If we accept Dalferth’s description of Czech society as postsecular, it raises several questions: How can we then situate the religious within the society? Dalferth points out that in the history of the West, the secular and non-secular were constructed as a contrasting binary. Religious-versus-secular (he uses the terms ‘horizontal’ or ‘R-secularity’) is a contrast between two realms of human life and activity (holy vs profane; ecclesial vs political). This contrast is still well embedded in the social sciences’ approach to the religious. However, the distinction between the divine and the secular (‘vertical’ or ‘D-secularity’) has been no less important: ‘Here the basic idea is that there is a fundamental contrast between God and the world. The world is created but not divine’ (Dalferth, 2010: 326). From a religious point of view, this contrast introduces a more positive view of the secular world, understood as creation depending on the creator.

It could be useful to view the striving for the Christian character of charitable work through the prism of this vertical secularity. In a postsecular (i.e., religiously indifferent) society, the vertical contrast is more easily discerned than the horizontal contrast. When the boundaries of the religious and the secular blur on the horizontal dimension, the religious as a transcendental, divine state in contradistinction to the created world can be brought into relief. To the extent that we are not trained and accustomed as social scientists to note, take seriously and include in our frames of the analysis these transcendental realities, I would be happy to consult the pro and cons of this approach.

References

Dalferth IU (2010) Post-secular Society: Christianity and the Dialectics of the Secular. Journal of the American Academy of Religion 78(2): 317–345.

Molendijk, AL (2015) In pursuit of the postsecular. International Journal of Philosophy and Theology 76(2): 100–115.

Spalová B, Gajdoš A and Nosál M (2023) Čo (ne)zhorí, to (ne)zhnije. Predstavy o budúcnosti v prostredí českých a slovenských cirkví. In: Spalová B and Lukeš Rybanská I (eds) Vize zdaru, vize zmaru: Proměny církví v Česku a na Slovensku v kontextu restitucí (Visions of success, visions of failure: Transformations of churches in the Czech Republic and Slovakia in the context of restitution). Praha: Karolinum (in print).

Stoeckl K and Uzlaner D (2019) Four genealogies of postsecularity. In: Beaumont J (ed) The Routledge Handbook of Postsecularity. New York: Routledge, pp. 269-279.

Taylor C (2007) The Secular Age. Harvard: Harvard University Press.

In the superdiverse city of Brussels, the social work landscape reflects the city’s diversity, challenges and complexity. The range of services, organizations, social movements and more informal initiatives supporting people living in a vulnerable situation reflects the wide variety of identities, requests for help, residence statutes, cultural, linguistic and migration backgrounds and beliefs of people who call on them. Religiously or ideologically inspired solidarity initiatives (RSIs) are part of this broad and diverse ‘social infrastructure’ offering support to vulnerable groups. Where many people struggle to find their way to formal social work, or cannot rely on it because of their status, our research shows that people with vulnerable residence status often turn to RSIs. Under the radar of most administrations or social work organizations, RSIs provide many forms of solidarity in addition to their primary offering of religious work. For example, they offer material assistance such as food, clothing or small collections, provide shelter, organize homework assistance or even childcare, politicize, and much more. Moreover, they create a sense of belonging and community within an urban context that seems increasingly fragmented and divided along social and cultural lines or class.

At the same time, RSIs and formal social work seem to operate largely in different worlds. They rarely collaborate structurally. When they have already made attempts to establish contacts and cooperate with formal social work actors and local administrations, Brussels-based RSIs often do not feel valued or respected as equal partners when working with local administrations or formal social work actors in providing support to people in vulnerable positions. Specifically in the complex context of Brussels, we see a lack of overview of RSIs, but also of dialogue, mutual understanding or networking – even when contacts do exist. This raises questions about the position of these actors within the broader social field.

In our study, we explore the possibilities and desirability of building bridges between RSIs and formal social work. Based on case studies of RSIs in Brussels and interviews with formal social work actors, we explore their respective roles in organizing solidarity. We also investigate what connections exist between RSIs and formal social work – and how these might be strengthened.

To achieve these goals, we held in-depth interviews with representatives of both RSIs and secular social work organizations, organized focus groups and conducted participant observation within several RSIs in Brussels. Moreover, we had discussions with key figures in the field of social work research and practice. Finally, we organized a community service learning (CSL) trajectory as part of the research design. We immersed a group of five social work students, as well as two lecturers / researchers in two religious actors in Brussels – a mosque organizing solidarity initiatives during Ramadan and an angelic church running a community kitchen. The students and researchers engaged in the activities of these religiously inspired organizations and listened to the lived experiences of the members of these communities. The reflections that arose during this trajectory proved useful in understanding the differences between the two religiously inspired actors with regard to their religious position and solidarity practices, their beneficiaries, and so on.

Both the case studies in our field work and the CSL trajectory taught us that there is no such thing as a typical RSI and its position in the broader field of social work. The diversity and complexity of Brussels is mirrored in the range of RSIs, their features and their solidarity practices.

This hampers finding shortcut answers to questions concerning their stance on solidarity in modern post secular societies, their position and attitude towards secular social work and their aptitude to network and structurally support or empower vulnerable groups. Neither can we simply settle discussions on alleged tendencies such as paternalism, proselytism or exclusion.

Nevertheless, our fieldwork reveals many observations that can inform discussions on the relationship between religion, solidarity and the welfare state. We find both differences and similarities between initiatives of various religions and social work organizations. For instance, RSIs tend to be closer to their beneficiaries, and better able to respond to constantly changing local needs, as compared to formal social work. However, lacking the resources or the expertise requires them to get in touch with formal social work when they aspire to address such needs sustainably. In addition to these observations, our fieldwork shows that in most RSIs, very few beneficiaries are excluded. While many aim to reach certain groups – for instance, people from the own religious community or the surrounding neighborhood – most RSIs welcome any person that comes in search for help and creatively seek answers to their needs. Moreover, many RSIs apply a religious language and volunteers’ motivation to support people is rooted in their beliefs. Nevertheless, our research reveals few RSIs explicitly focus on converting beneficiaries while helping them.

In this session we discuss the differences and similarities between religiously inspired solidarity initiatives and institutions linked to welfare regimes. Is paternalism an exclusive and defining feature of religiously inspired solidarity initiatives? What about conditionality in both realms? By showing the diversity of both welfare regimes institutions and religiously inspired solidarity initiatives, we call to abandon existing generalizations about both types of actors and to look for common ground in the support of vulnerable groups such as undocumented migrants.

In Quebec today, solidarity and secularity go hand-in-hand. But this has not always been the case. The provincial government’s framework for “l’économie sociale” can be traced directly to an influential Quebecois financier’s early 20^th century vision for a banking cooperative based explicitly on Catholic values (Kaell 2023). In the mid-century, though, Quebec’s Catholic dominated public institutions were abruptly secularized. Church membership and attendance had already been dwindling for decades, but it accelerated after the 1960s. Perhaps the most visible sign of secularization in Quebec is the ubiquitous repurposing of historical church buildings. Many churches have been transformed for commercial use, such as condo units, fitness centers, and even nightclubs. Many others have been demolished. The churches that do manage to retain their religious status usually do so via collaborations with the community and arts and culture sectors. Drawing on ongoing ethnographic fieldwork about one such church in Montreal, this paper highlights religious actors’ innovative uses of material heritage to contest the perceived moral economic failings both of traditional religious institutions and of secular capitalism. This case study is part of a broader project examining a network of Christian property development experts that revitalize heritage church buildings across Canada. The church under study in Montreal is where that network is based.

St Jax Church is an evangelical Anglican parish in Montreal that has turned its 19^th century building into a secular “community hub”. Situated on a prized lot in the heart of downtown, the priest sees his historical church as a bulwark against rampant anti-social real estate development in the city. The property, he insists, is managed for maximizing social impact, not profit. St Jax is meant to be a new kind of shared sacred space that belongs to its local community, which is secular and pluralistic. The Anglican congregation is the primary religious tenant, but “Centre St Jax”, a secular administrative wing recently created within the parish, rents space in the building to three other Christian churches and to a range of secular community groups (e.g., a food bank, a language school, and a refugee service organization). The most conspicuously unorthodox tenant is a circus company that uses the church nave as a performance stage.

St. Jax’s property strategy is indicative of a broader shift among evangelicals in North American urban settings (Bielo 2011; Dejean & Germain 2022; Effa 2015; Hovland 2016). Instead of proselytizing, alternative strategies for propagation and influence seek to demonstrate Christian virtue in more subtle ways; they tolerate and even promote a significant degree of “dedifferentiation” between religious and secular discourses and symbols (cf. Knoblauch 2008; Huss 2014; Mapril et al. 2017; also Oliphant 2021). For St Jax, this means trying to normalize the presence of Christian semiotic forms (specifically the materiality of the church building itself) within their surroundings by demonstrating that when a neighborhood has a living, active church in it, good things happen. Their use of the building as a community hub is explicitly framed within a subversive theopolitical vision aimed at contesting the status quo of Quebec’s secular public sphere in which churches, the priest observes, no longer have “social permission to operate”. Thus, the St Jax leadership openly takes advantage of economic privileges related to the property’s religious status and heritage designation. In Montreal, zoning status as a religious property makes many of its activities tax-exempt. Whatever the range of secular services the community hub offers, the legal basis for the building’s fiscal privileges rests upon the property remaining under the auspices the Anglican Diocese.

Driving the dedifferentiation of religious and secular space at St Jax is the merging of pastoral and entrepreneurial visions for social impact. But this is not simply another case of church growth and competition in the so-called religious marketplace typically associated with contemporary evangelicalism (cf. Ekelund, Hebert, and Tollison 2006). For example, the St Jax leadership criticize their own and other church institutions for lacking an adequately theologically informed sense of fiscal responsibility. In the priest’s view, church buildings have become “false idols” which drain economic resources both from congregations and from the public they are meant to serve; if they are truly to be of value to the local community, his argument goes, then churches must hold themselves accountable to the public by demonstrating sound financial practices. After all, heritage properties are expensive to maintain and are subsidized by taxpayers. This situation poses a challenge for each set of moral economic actors involved. On the one hand, the municipality must evaluate to what extent it is in the public’s interest to enable a religious institution to conserve its own private property, especially when the latter’s activities push the limits of a conventional non-profit organization. On the other hand, St. Jax must align its activities with the perceived values of the public to persuade them that sacred spaces have social value in a secular society.

This paper examines St Jax’s property strategy via the concept of “moral economy” in social anthropology (Hann 2010; Fassin 2009; Palomera & Vetta 2016). Rather than assuming that solidarity and capitalism are mutually exclusive, we ask how distinctly moralizing secular and religious perspectives on solidarity under capitalist conditions both clash and align in unexpected ways. Grounded in a Canadian case study, this paper also contributes to international conversations about the ways in which religion, government, and economy intersect in distinct national contexts.