By far the most popular radio show in Quebec began at 6 p.m. (we said 6 a.m.). It only lasted about fifteen minutes. It was, in two respects, repetitive. Every evening the same star, because it was one: the cardinal of Montreal, Paul-Émile Léger. The script never varied. He recited the rosary every evening. Itself being made up of the repetition of I salute you marie punctuated with Our father. It wasn’t a recording. The prelate was, as the French did not yet say, in “direct-live “.
I know this because my mother one day decided to make my sister and I listen to it, on our knees in the kitchen, while she prepared the meal. I wondered if she was committing a sin by failing to concentrate on prayer. Would the cardinal, at the end of the airwaves, realize this? I still found this exercise a little exaggerated, because during the day, at public school, I had already prayed twice: before the start of class in the morning and after lunch, each time on my knees next to the desk. Was God so hard of hearing that he had to be told the same thing several times a day?
I was in the last wave of this collective Catholic indoctrination, at the beginning of the sixties. It is often said that religious influence collapsed with the Quiet Revolution, but it was a fairly long process. The churches were still successful at the beginning of the 1970s, the majority of students followed pastoral courses until the beginning of the 2000s. Consequently, outside of practicing families, only those under 30 were not repeatedly immersed in Holy water.
The distance taken with the institution of the Church is a major fact in the evolution of modern Quebec. The pedophilia scandals are one of the final nails in this coffin. But faith is another matter. It can survive the decline of the institution. Its half-life is robust. Even without faith, adherence to Christian stories can persist for a long time.
This is why I was struck by the results revealed this week by the Angus Reid Polling Institute on the extent of disbelief in this province which has long been described across Outaouais as ” priest infested » — infested with priests.
Quebecers still have memories: 74% of them say they are of the “Roman Catholic tradition” (compared to 8% of Protestants, 2% of Muslims, 1% of Jews). But, except for weddings and funerals, 53% never set foot in church, mosque or synagogue — only 4% go every week. Normal, since 75% “never” read the Bible, the Koran or the Torah and 55% “never” feel the presence of God. Roughly 77% of Quebecers say they are non-believers or “spiritually uncertain” (compared to 59% of Ontarians). The most surprising result in my opinion is the historical existence of the resurrection of Jesus: 41% of Quebecers do not believe in it and 27% refuse to comment or do not know. Only 31% believe it. This is little.
This should be seen as a sign of the rise of skepticism and disbelief, including among young people, despite being inundated with fantastic worlds, from Harry Potter to Stranger Things. I remember my seven-year-old godson laughing in front of me about the story he had just learned about Moses parting the Red Sea. But, I told him, acting as God’s advocate, it’s like Darth Vader in Star Wars, which can make objects move from a distance. “Well, let’s see,” he replied, “it’s a film. They’re not trying to make us believe it really happened! » Unstoppable argument.
Yet, yet, this nation of disbelievers, further from God, Allah and Yahweh than any other group on the continent, keeps a religious door ajar: 52% of us think that we must pass on teachings to our children religious, which is quite broad (according to sources, it goes from “An eye for an eye” to “Turn the other cheek”). I know that, as a father, I consider it essential that my children know the biblical story, because our culture is steeped in it and we cannot effectively decode even part of the language without having these keys. I also wonder if it is not preferable to instill a little religion in one’s offspring, like a vaccine, so that they are not dazzled by the completely new spiritual aspect during adolescence. , for them, from the first sect to come.
We find other traces of the persistence of religion in Quebec. No less than 60% of Quebecers say they sometimes pray to “God or a higher power.” They do it rarely (21%) or episodically (27%), and we can think that daily prayers (11%) are classic devotees. But the others? We need to know who they are talking to, exactly, and with what results? (A “rule of thumb” says that if you talk to God, you belong in the temple, but if God speaks to you, you belong in the asylum.)
Finally, there is the question that kills: do we believe in life after death? A small majority of Quebecers are making this bet (51%), while 63% of Ontarians are making an appointment in the afterlife. This is paradoxical, because the Vatican has done much in recent decades to make the passage more attractive. First, purgatory passed by, this antechamber of paradise where one had to atone for one’s sins by suffering on burning coals for a period equivalent to the faults accumulated in one’s life. Then the very existence of hell was called into question, which made the passage to paradise much safer. Despite these considerable improvements, faith in eternal life is declining. What would the pope need to do to reverse the trend? Promising virgins? It is to the point that those in the country who believe least in life after death are, by far, the main users of medical assistance in dying. It goes to show that, far from religion, Quebecers are in a greater hurry than others to go nowhere.