transitions...an update

I moved to Canada to be with my partner full-time about a year ago. I enrolled in a graduate program at the University of Manitoba, where my focus is critical analysis of the effects of Christianities on public health, and I’ve completed my first year. It’s been a great experience, and I’ve been privileged to learn from some great professors, most of whom have encouraged to tailor assignments to my interests.

In public health, and increasingly in other fields, a primary focus is social determinants of health, which are the causes of the causes of health outcomes. These are things like education, access to health care, availability of nutritious food and clean water, housing, race/racism, and other systemic factors that affects people’s wellbeing. Religion doesn’t always make the list, but it is increasingly recognized as a social determinant.

I was excited to find books on the topic, like Ellen Idler’s Religion as a Social Determinant of Public Health, or Why Religion and Spirituality Matter for Public Health, a volume edited by Doug Oman with contributions from 24 other authors. I was certain that I had found my people—those who have recognized the harm that can be cause by religion and are working to mitigate this harm. Until I read them.

It seems that most people who study the intersection of religion and public health come to the topic with a religious lens. I think they are probably well-intentioned people who tend to come from religious backgrounds that align with their social justice-oriented ideology, and they see religion as a primarily positive force that can improve the health of individuals and populations. Few scholars in this area seem willing to look at the negative impact of religion.

Also, religion tends to get inappropriately conflated with spirituality, which obscures many of its effects. Spirituality is a nebulous term that is difficult if not impossible to define, but can include things like mindfulness meditation, yoga, or appreciating nature. Certainly, there are aspects of religion that can fit into this pseudo-definition of spirituality, but there are other important aspects as well.

When social scientists measure religiosity, they tend to look at things like the frequency with which people attend religious services or engage in religious practices. Many studies overlook the messages people receive when attending those services, whether explicitly from the pulpit (or equivalent) or implicitly through social interactions with other congregants. Also overlooked are the many ways in which religion shapes society, politics, education, social services, and other systemic factors that affect health.

The social connections and support formed by meeting frequently with likeminded people can be invaluable. But that’s not always the case. Some churches preach that 2SLGBTQ people are sinful or demon possessed. Some churches prioritize the institution of marriage over the physical and psychological safety of the individuals in that marriage. Some churches care more about a fetus than the physical, emotional, social, or financial wellbeing or the person that fetus inhabits. These beliefs can have substantial negative impacts.

Religion is not the same as spirituality. One religion doesn’t have the same effects as another. And within Christianity are such a wide variety of beliefs and practices that to lump them all together, whether for academic study or casual conversation, is fraught with issues.

My go-to example, far enough removed in history that few people push back, is to look at the southern US in the 18th century. The majority of white slaveholders in the south were Christians who used the Bible to justify the enslavement and torture of Black Africans. Many enslaved people were also Christians, finding in the Bible messages of comfort and liberation. And abolitionists found motivation for their efforts to help enslaved people to freedom in those same pages. Were all of those people Christians? Are there differences in their religious beliefs that would be meaningful when studying the effects of religion?

When I moved to Canada, I thought I would be leaving behind most of the toxic effects of conservative Christianity. But there’s plenty of work to do here. Sometimes it feels like we’re headed the same way as Alabama, just a few years behind. So I’m doing what I can to keep that from happening. For the moment, I’ve had to pause my long-form writing on People’s Chosen God. I’ll come back to it eventually, but the chapters stand alone, so if you haven’t read it, I’d encourage you to check it out. For now, I’ll be posting more regular and more frequent posts about a variety of topics from the complex intersection of Christianities and public health.

I’ll keep you posted.

-ch