Canadians
aren’t, as a rule, particularly pushy. This is a country of two solitudes,
multiculturalism, universal health care and collective goodwill.
The west in Canada was never really
wild; it was well-managed. Our Indian wars were, with notable exceptions, more
misguided paternalism and land swindles than bloody subjugation. We are a
nation of peaceful tree choppers.
One
of the defining social principles of Canadians’ lack of pushiness is a sort of
laissez faire, live and let live, you do your thing and I’ll do mine, go along
to get along kind of social interaction. It’s been generations since Canadians
have had to repel invading forces and the idea of Canada starting a war is
ludicrous.
So
what’s an Olympic-fevered mountain resort in a peaceful nation of I’m OK;
You’re OK co-dependents supposed to think when an invading ‘army’ is poised to
assault its placid, guest-welcoming borders?
Former
Whistler councillor Krispi Wells wants to lead an army of Southern Baptists to
our happy mountain home to spiritually transform Whistler. This begs more
questions than can possibly be asked in one column but one of them is clearly
transform Whistler into what?
I
know; you think I’m making this stuff up like I usually do. Au contraire, mon
cher. It was thus reported in that bastion of hard news, BPSports. BPSports is
an online zine of all things Christian and sport, run by the Southern Baptist
Convention, the largest Baptist group in the world, the largest Protestant
group in the U.S. and the second largest Christian club in the U.S. after the
Roman Catholic Church — ironically an organization the Southern Baptists don’t
view as exactly Christian.
In
a piece entitled
Planning underway for Winter Olympics Ministry
(
http://www.bpsports.net/bpsports.asp?ID=5769
)
in the Feb. 14
edition, Alan Au, director of Vancouver Focus
(described as a “church-planting and discipleship initiative sponsored by the
Canadian Convention of Southern Baptists”) says the Olympics are seen as a
great opportunity to “extend our growth into the future.”
Apparently,
VANOC agrees. Among all the other things VANOC is doing to bring the 2010 Games
to fruition, partnering with the Southern Baptists is on the list. Mr. Au is a
board member of the Vancouver Whistler — finally we get some billing — Games
Network (VWGN). VWGN is a coalition of churches, ministries and individuals
VANOC has partnered with to, according to the BPSports story, assist them in four
official capacities: “chaplaincy, lodging for athletes, the use of church
parking lots for carpooling to events, and helping the city build a lasting
legacy after the games.”
If
all this sounds benign, it is. But, as so many of faith are fond of saying, the
road to Hell is paved with good intentions.
Chaplaincy
may well have some traction in and around the athletes’ village during the
games, if only for the already-converted seeking succor and solace in their
quest for gold. I don’t think the handful of churchgoers in Whistler and the
total lack of committed church buildings are going to do much to ease the
lodging problems, and other than the bit of blacktop down at Our Lady of
Perpetual Powder, there aren’t any church parking lots in town.
And
while I’m hoping the “helping the city build a lasting legacy” language is
meant for Vancouver, demonstrably a city, comments by former Whistlerite Ms.
Wells suggest otherwise.
Krispi
wants Whistler to experience a spiritual transformation. She wants visitors to
Tiny Town, seasonal workers, athletes and even those who didn’t vote for her
for mayor to find Jesus in Whistler, as apparently she has with the Southern
Baptists in ways she never did with the Catholic church.
“More
than the beautiful mountains or the party lifestyle or their chance to get
better at their sport, they're going to say, 'I met an amazing group of people,
and I found Jesus.',” is how she put it to BPSports.
Now
every religion proselytizes, some more than others. The Witnesses were kind
enough to come around just the other day peddling subscriptions to the
Watchtower and Awake and everlasting salvation. I politely declined; they
politely departed. They did not lay siege to my condo, threaten me with eternal
damnation or cast incantations. They came in peace.
The
Southern Baptists seem intent on coming in force. “We don't have a whole lot of
churches here, but that's where Southern Baptists in Canada can say, 'We got
this army of volunteers (in the U.S.) who are trained and ready to come and are
excited.' This is what we can bring to the table," Jeff Wagner, manager of
resorts and special ministries for the North American Mission Board was quoted
as saying.
An
army?
I
don’t know about you but the image of an army of Southern Baptists descending
on Whistler leaves me just a little bit uncomfortable… and I’m only a converted
Canadian.
I
mean this is another narrow-minded religious group who believe homos are an
abomination before God, who believe women don’t belong in the pulpit, who
believe it is their divine duty to spread their own brand of intolerance around
the world, and who believe their God is the only true God and anyone who
believes otherwise just booked a one-way ticket to Hell.
There
are already a handful of Southern Baptists among us, some of whom I count as
acquaintances and friends. If that particular form of faith is their choice,
I’m down with that. The Church on the Mountain is apparently a Canadian
Convention of Southern Baptists member.
But
being part of this place, their brand of religion seems to have been filtered
through the lens of a —let’s not mince words here — Godless town. At least
Godless in the sense of not ascribing to any one brand of God as determined by
the dogma of an organized religious group. All the churchgoers in Whistler —
generously estimated at three per cent of the population — wouldn’t fill a pew
in a U.S. mega church.
Until
recently, in fact, there wasn’t anything in town that could be called a church
and that was understandable. Whistler was built by hard-working, outdoor-loving
individualists. It is, still today, peopled by hard-working, outdoor-loving
individualists, all of whom are employed by a service economy that never stops.
Sabbath days are like any other days.
Whatever
confirmation we need of a higher power — if that be our belief — we can find in
more abundance at the top of Whistler and Blackcomb than we’ll ever find in the
narrow-mindedness of an army of Southern Baptists.
So
when the army invades, just remember, your best defence is to tell ‘em you’re
queer. They may pray for you but they definitely won’t want you to enlist.