At first I thought about what the Church of England had to gain by a posthumous apology. The newspapers reported the story with quotes from Darwin’s great-great grandson, saying how he thought it was pointless. I suppose that posthumous apologies are always going to be pointless, but they can act as an invite of public pardon for the behaviour of an institution. Of course, it also turns down the heat a little when it comes to secular criticism. 

I can only speak from my own experiences – but it seems there is a prevalent lack of understanding when it comes to spiritual or religious systems. People pay attention to what is thrust in front of them most often – and I believe that through a mixture of lazy media coverage and unengaging education, things become boiled down to the least number of options. Christianity is simmered down to bible-belt creationists; Islam is reduced to babbling terrorists.
A posthumous apology then, may be a good way of distancing the C of E from Palin and the religious right in the US, that are currently dominating our newspapers (and soon, possibly our world).

The apology itself was an interesting read. It seems to have a kind of ‘misery loves company’ angle, and though it admits that the critical attacks on Darwin in the 1860s were ‘misguided’ – it places more emphasis on the misapplication of Darwin’s ideas, arguing that natural selection effectively encourages racism and discrimination. It then suggests that these misuses were ‘perhaps predicted’ all along.

Undeniably, the C of E’s message to focus on the ‘human capacity for love, for altruism, and for self-sacrifice’ is relevant and applaudable.

However, by offering what will be seen as a watered down apology, they leave themselves open to criticism. When you are extending olive branches, it is good practice to make sure they are strong and firm.

The Church of Scientology, who have faced various legal wrangles in the past, is set to be tried for organised fraud in the coming months. There is a history of disputes with the organisation in (though certainly not unique to) France, which refuses to view it as a religion, and categorises it as a purely commercial operation.

The episode got me thinking on the intricate relationship between law and faith in our society, where our civil codes and religious beliefs can be traced back to the same book. This can be observed no matter which civilization or book you choose. So it seems we have two ideals, born from the same place, but evolving in different ways – intricate hardly does it justice. Religion makes a daily appearance in court, God is called upon to play witness to every statement, but it begs the question of what happens when the two entities meet head-on – when religion is forced into the dock.

The Devil and Daniel Webster is a short story detailing such an occasion – Webster, an accomplished lawyer, agrees to take the defence of Mr. Stone, a local farmer who has sold his soul to the devil.
But cases like this are by no means limited to the realms of fiction, as can be seen from the very real life case of Mayo V Satan (US 1971) which saw Gerard Mayo claiming that Satan had deliberately placed obstacles in his path that caused his downfall. The case ended on a technicality, as there was no instruction given on how to serve notice of the legal proceedings to Satan.

Other remarkable cases include Luigi Cascioli, an Italian who brought a lawsuit against the Catholic Church; the case revolved around the idea that the Church would need to offer evidence of Christ’s existence – in 2006 it was granted hearing in the European Court of Human Rights, and shortly thereafter was closed, as Cascioli seemingly lost interest in pursuing it any further.

Even more recently, Nebraska State Senator Ernie Chambers brought a case against God, citing floods, plagues and various catastrophes as reason to sue. Chambers made the claim in order to draw attention to the increasing trend of frivolous lawsuits appearing in the American courts.

While such cases are evidently being used as ways to highlight particular issues, there are also more sobering examples, such as the Scopes Trial or Dover Case, which dealt with the still ongoing US furore over natural selection theories being taught in school.

While the Church of Scientology has received full recognition as a religion in several countries, it has been rejected in many more. It is a pertinent question at this time – what defines a religion? In a setting where liberalism and acceptance of all faiths are encouraged from an early age – who should decide which belief is relevant, who should choose where the line is drawn between religious and civil rights?

It would be hypocritical of a state founded on religion to not allow openings for new and varied belief systems, but the decision making council is always going to be subject to prejudice. In the same breath, an open-door policy is an invitation to misuse.

Religions have generally found acceptance through numbers, and with the Church of Scientology claiming membership of over 8 million worldwide, it will become more difficult for countries like our own to ignore or deny their claim to hold the status of an recognised religion. To me it seems that by accepting emerging faith-systems in a secular or multifaith society, there needs to be a tangible, corporeal element to them, however contradictory that may be.