Religion And The Social Integration Of Migrants In Dublin, Ireland

Abstract

This paper explores the intersection of religion and migration, and investigates how religious beliefs, practices, and identities can be both beneficial and/or a deterrence to the process of social integration. A qualitative case study was conducted at a multicultural, nondenominational Christian church in Dublin, Ireland, composed of both Irish‐born citizens and migrants from around the world. Within the church, Irish‐born and foreign‐born congregants frequently interact, suggesting religion is a bridge that is encouraging social integration. Alternatively, noncongregant Irish‐born members in the larger community where the church is located are skeptical of the church and maintain that it is a type of religious cult. From this perspective, religion can be perceived as a barrier that hinders a migrant's ability to integrate into society. Consequently, this paper analyzes the dichotomous function of religion and religious identity within the social integration process in Dublin, Ireland.

• Belonging
• Ireland
• migrants
• religion
• social integration

Throughout the twenty‐first century, increased global migration has led to a significant amplification of xenophobic rhetoric across Europe—see Fireside 2002; Taras 2009; Erlanger and Bennhold 2015—and much of this fear of foreigners’ concerns differences in religious beliefs (Gündüz 2010; Koopmans 2015). Indeed, as Nancy Foner and Richard Alba suggest, “religion is seen in Europe as the marker of a fundamental social divide” and this division is most clearly witnessed and sensationalized following extremist attacks (2008, 361; see also Joshi 2015; Eland 2015). Nevertheless, the escalating religious divide in Europe is not solely limited to these atypical violent events. Rather, as I argue below, it is within the actions, behaviors, and contested notions of identity found in everyday life where the roots of this division begin to mature.

These negative social developments regarding religious differences in Europe notwithstanding, it is necessary to keep in mind that religion also plays an important positive role in providing stability for migrants as they maneuver through the day‐to‐day challenges of life in their new place of residence. As Charles Hirschman correctly points out, “[f]or many immigrants, the separation from family, language, and community often leads to a search for meaning and stability in their new homeland. Religious participation and rituals [therefore] can often fill the psychological void and create a sense of belonging and community for newcomers” (2004, 1228). Likewise, Sandeep Agrawal suggests that, “religious institutions provide immigrants with an entry point to the mainstream host society” (2008, 44). Religion, therefore, is a critical component of integration in that it is an influential social structure that can both facilitate and hinder a migrant's transition into a new place. With contemporary global migration patterns likely to continue into the foreseeable future, it is imperative to have a more thorough understanding of the dichotomous function of religion within the integration process (UN 2016).

Much of the academic research examining the intersections of religion and social integration in Europe has focused almost exclusively on the impact and growth of Islam within European societies (El Hamel 2002; Naylor and Ryan 2002; Joppke 2014; Kuppinger 2014; Sunier 2014). Building on these insights, this paper expands the discussion by focusing on the role that Christianity plays in the social integration process through a qualitative case study at a multicultural, nondenominational church in Dublin, Ireland. This research adds nuance and depth to contemporary understandings of religion and immigration in a European context, and is especially salient when one considers that there are more than twice as many Christian migrants in Europe compared to Muslim migrants; 56 percent to 27 percent respectively (Pew Research Center 2012). This difference is even more pronounced in the Republic of Ireland, where 75 percent of the migrants are Christian, while only 5 percent practice Islam (Central Statistics Office 2011).

The church examined in this paper reveals that within the congregation, Irish‐born and foreign‐born congregants frequently interact; suggesting religion is a bridge that is encouraging social integration. Alternatively, noncongregant Irish‐born members in the larger community where the church is located are skeptical of the church and maintain that it is a type of religious cult. From this perspective, religion can be perceived as a barrier that hinders a migrant's ability to integrate into society. By exploring the relationships that exist amongst both the congregants of the church themselves, as well as from the point of view of noncongregants, this research examines the contested notions of identity related to religion that are currently being constructed in contemporary Dublin.

Social Integration, Religion, and Belonging

Integration, broadly defined, “is the process by which immigrants become accepted into society, both as individuals and as groups” (Penninx 2003). For the Council of the European Union, integration refers to “a dynamic, long‐term, and continuous two‐way process of mutual accommodation, not a static outcome. It demands the participation not only of immigrants and their descendants but of every resident” including those from the host community (2004, 19). Indeed, as Brian Ray affirms, the term integration “is understood as a sustained mutual interaction between newcomers and the societies that receive them” and, that integration signifies “something more than simple characterizations of the “melting pot” predicated upon a process of unidirectional assimilation orchestrated by the receiving society” (2002). However, despite this generally agreed upon understanding that integration involves two parties—migrants and the receiving society—there is little agreement as to what exactly constitutes “successful” integration.

For the Integration Centre, an Irish‐based nongovernmental organization, integration is considered “achieved when immigrants enjoy economic, political, social and cultural equality and inclusion” (McGinnity and others 2013, 12). And while I certainly would agree with this statement, it is important to remember that these components are not simply boxes on a checklist to be crossed off when attained nor do they operate in isolation from one another. Rather, they are fluid constructs that occur concurrently, overlapping and interacting with one another on a day‐to‐day basis. Plus, the relative importance of one component over another is determined by several factors, including but not limited to the historic situation of the place and the various, both domestic‐ and foreign‐born, people involved. This understanding of the integration process underscores the multiple “pathways to integration” as discussed by Mary Gilmartin and Bettina Migge (2013), and the need for researchers to narrow their examinations related to integration, for example social integration, economic integration, and civic integration. Consequently, this paper utilizes the term social integration—rather than the more all‐encompassing “integration”—to signify that this research focused specifically on the social components of religion and religious beliefs as they relate to the integration process.

Assessing levels of any form of integration, social or otherwise, is very challenging because of the long‐term nature of the process (Penninx 2003). Typically, however, assessment of integration is quantitative and relies on “an array of indicators from large‐scale surveys and censuses” (Ray 2002). One can readily measure unemployment rates, language use, or secondary education attainment to gain an understanding of integration. Yet beneath these numbers there is a more nuanced story that is difficult to quantify, but equally if not more important for us to understand about social integration—especially concerning religion and religious beliefs.

For example, Agrawal's work on faith‐based communities in the greater Toronto area of Canada touches on the dual nature of integration through the lens of neighborliness that, according to him, “is an expression of societal strength and an essential ingredient of a well‐functioning democracy” (2008, 43). Similarly, Patricia Ehrkamp and Caroline Nagel examine the ways in which religious communities serve “as contradictory sites for the production of citizenship between immigrants and non‐immigrants” in the U.S. South (2012, 625). They conclude that “faith communities and spiritual beliefs continue to play a role in promoting civic and political engagement, in defining societal norms and identities, and in addressing the nature of rights and obligations to the society‐at‐large” (2012, 643). A third example of note is David Ley's research on immigrant Christian churches in Vancouver that explores how religion and religious beliefs initially serve as a powerful bonding agent for a congregation that ultimately, with regards to intergenerational and multicultural congregants, develops into a bridge of social capital (2008). Importantly for this paper, these articles not only demonstrate effective qualitative research within this realm of study, but they also show how identities are being contested and socially constructed through religious beliefs between migrants and members of the host society.

Central to this discussion is Ceri Peach's assertion that “religion may now be a more important variable for socio‐geographic investigation than race or ethnicity” (2006, 353). While I concur with Peach, especially in a contemporary European context, religion is different from these other aspects of identity in a very significant way; it is often a personal choice. Typically, an individual cannot choose what society deems to be their race or ethnic background. However, in most cases, a person does decide whether he/she will “adhere to, leave, or proselytize a religion” (Yorgason and della Dora 2009, 632). Consequently, this personal choice may signify a greater importance to the construction of an individual's identity, because it is what they personally deem to be an important component of their own life, rather than what someone else has assigned for them.

For the adherent of a particular religious community, the significance of this “chosen” identity attachment is amplified when they join a collective—the congregation of a church in this case. Through this action, the adherent actively chooses to become a congregant, thereby linking his/her individual identity to the collective identity of others. Here, congregants typically acquire a deep sense of belonging to the other members of their congregation due to their shared beliefs, values, and practices (Ugba 2009, 216). With that said, it is important to keep in mind what Derek Alderman and Joshua Inwood claim: that this sense of belonging is “a socially mediated matter [which is] related to the discourses and practices of socio‐spatial inclusion and exclusion, a means of defining membership to a group and ownership of a place” (2013, 219). In other words, the collective alone does not completely define their own collectivity. Rather, it is a dynamic process that is in a constant state of flux; particularly because, as Alderman and E. Arnold Modlin suggest, the “[d]ominant social groups consciously define the terms of belonging as they seek to impose cultural coherence and fix the boundaries of identity of “us” and “them” (2013, 9–10). Accordingly, when examining a collective it is imperative to consider not only who is a member, but also, who is not. This is especially true when the collective is composed of individuals who may not be considered members of the dominant social group of a particular place. Consequently, as I have stated elsewhere, “identity boundaries formed through the politics of belonging become the frontiers where the social integration process occurs” (Conner 2016, 195).

With regards to the research presented throughout this paper, foreign‐born congregants at the church are amiably received by the Irish‐born congregants. Here, there is a deep sense of belonging that has been socially constructed amongst the congregation through their shared religiosity. Alternatively, many of the Irish‐born non‐congregant members of the local community are explicitly biased against both the church and its congregants. This notion has been created and maintained through exclusionary thoughts and practices fueled by xenophobic rhetoric inherent in and perpetuated by a society where an “us” vs. “them” dichotomy continues to be the prevailing discourse (Fanning 2002; McVeigh and Lentin 2002; Lentin 2007, 2013).

Research Methodology

The data for this research was acquired through a qualitative case study conducted over three years,¹ including ten weeks of ethnographic field work at a nondenominational Christian church located in Dublin, Ireland. Due to the nature of this research, qualitative research methods were selected over quantitative because social issues, beliefs, and identities are not easily quantifiable. Dublin, Ireland, was chosen as the location for this research for two main reasons. First, the Republic of Ireland has historically been a nation of emigrants. Net migration into Ireland did not begin on a sustained level until the mid‐1990s (Gilmartin 2013) and based on the 2011 census (CSO 2011), the foreign‐born population now represents approximately 17 percent of Ireland's total population, which is a higher percentage of foreign‐born individuals than a majority of European countries (UN 2013).² Moreover, the relatively recent nature of this demographic development means that we are witnessing firsthand how a nation that has had no real history with such a large‐scale immigrant population is adjusting to this new reality.

Religion is the second reason that Ireland was selected for this research. Based on a report conducted by the Pew Research Center, approximately 94 percent of the population in Ireland self identifies as Christian, which is one of the highest percentages in Europe (2011, 73). Roman Catholicism has long been the dominant religion in the Republic of Ireland, with Pope Paul VI even referring to it as being “the most Catholic country in the world” (Kelly 2012). According to the 2011 census, over 84 percent of the total population in Ireland consider themselves Roman Catholic and much of Irish society is heavily influenced by the teaching of the Catholic Church, including the fact that the Catholic Church administers over 90 percent of Irish public schools (Schrank 2013). However, “Ireland's religiosity has waned in recent years, amid changing demographics, rising secularism and reports of Church sexual abuse and cover‐ups” (Schrank 2013). Complicating these matters further is that approximately 40 percent of the non–Irish‐born migrants living in the Republic of Ireland are non‐Catholic, including those individuals born in Asia and Africa who are 70 percent and 73 percent non‐Catholic respectively (CSO 2011).³ As a consequence, Irish‐born Catholics are now encountering more non‐Catholics on a day‐to‐day basis than ever before.

For non‐Western Christian migrants, specifically those from the global south, the Christianity that they experience when they arrive in Europe does not typically resemble the Christianity that they personally practice (Ter Haar 2011). Accordingly, many European countries, including Ireland, have witnessed an expansion in the creation of immigrant‐led churches (Ugba 2009), increased evangelical‐style Christianity (Adogame 2010) and/or established churches that specifically accommodate the religious beliefs and practices of their immigrant population (Passarelli 2012). Furthermore, as Jehu Hanciles suggests, “the rise of African immigrant churches and other non‐western Christian congregations has been dramatically visible because of the stark contrast between the dynamism of new immigrant Christian groups and the often moribund tone of the traditional churches” (2003, 150).

In order to protect the individuals who participated in this research, nonidentifiable descriptors are utilized throughout this paper rather than specific individual's names, and the moniker “TRIUMPH” will be used as the name of the church. TRIUMPH is a full gospel nondenominational Christian church that describes itself as being an organization designed for people from every country, creed, and tradition. TRIUMPH was established in the late‐1980s by an Irish‐born couple after they had grown dissatisfied with the Irish Catholic Church and its ability to fulfill their spiritual needs. At the outset, their newly created church was little more than a prayer group that met in the living room of their Dublin home, and the dozen or so congregants were mainly family members and friends. As the congregation grew in size, the church began to rent hotel conference rooms for their services, then they purchased a small building in the Dublin City Centre, and in 2009 they finished the construction of a 6,000‐square‐meter building in suburban Dublin. This new facility includes a 1,110‐seat auditorium, a 200‐seat theater, several conference rooms, a carvery‐style restaurant, a Starbucks café, a TV studio, a day care center, a “hang‐out” room for teenagers, an athletic field, and a variety of additional amenities. From a religious standpoint, the spiritual beliefs and practices at TRIUMPH include a syncretic mixture of components from Pentecostalism, evangelicalism, fundamentalism, revivalism, and charismatic Christianity. Congregants consider themselves to be “born‐again” Christians, glossolalia (that is, speaking in tongues) is a common practice, and at most services there are communal faith healings. TRIUMPH also preaches the prosperity gospel, which in general suggests that the more generous a congregant provides tithes, the more he/she will receive in both earthly and heavenly prosperity as a reward from God. All of these religious beliefs and practices will be discussed in more detail in the section below.

Following a two‐week‐long pilot study conducted in July 2012, formal permission to conduct research at TRIUMPH was granted by the head pastor. Subsequently, over the course of the next two summers—2013 and 2014—I spent a combined ten weeks living in the Dublin suburb where the church is located, and I attended virtually every church function during those time periods. In addition to a twenty‐question survey and participant observations, data were acquired through semistructured interviews conducted with those individuals who agreed to participate following their completion of the survey. This style of interviewing creates a more comfortable setting for the interviewee and therefore encourages a more natural conversation to develop. Here, the individual voice of the interviewee is much more clearly heard compared to simply recording the answers to predetermined questions. Those individuals who participated in the study were informed that their individual names would not be used and that they could withdraw from the study at anytime they wished. All told, 176 people, from twenty‐nine different countries participated in this research: 95 Irish born (54 percent) and 81 foreign born (46 percent). Of the Irish born, 58 were male (61 percent) and 37 were female (39 percent), and of the foreign born, 44 were male (54 percent) and 37 (46 percent) were female.

Lastly, in any qualitative study, it is important for the researcher to acknowledge his/her positionality. While we should all strive to be objective in our analysis, in truth we all have our own viewpoints on issues, especially contentious issues, and these positions certainly factor into our research; if even only at a subconscious level. As Michael Ferber confirms, “The “god‐trick” of disembodied, unsituated objectivity is entirely inappropriate in any discipline, especially one studying a volatile phenomenon such as religion” (2006, 178). As such, I am a third‐generation Irish‐American from Buffalo, New York, who strongly identifies with my ethnic ancestry. Additionally, while I was baptized as a Catholic, I am not currently a member of any organized religious faith or denomination.

Case Study: TRIUMPH in Dublin

Bridge

As previously mentioned, TRIUMPH is a full gospel nondenominational Christian church and their religious beliefs include a variety of elements from other Christian denominations. This “cherry‐picking” did not happen by accident according to several Irish‐ and foreign‐born congregants. Rather, it was a concerted effort designed to diversify and, more importantly, to increase the congregation of the church. By accommodating such a wide range of religious practices, TRIUMPH has broken away from the dogmatic features found in many other denominations of Christianity, most specifically Roman Catholicism. In this way, TRIUMPH views itself as a bastion of sorts for those individuals who may feel spiritually and/or socially neglected elsewhere regardless of their place of birth or previous religious affiliation. This assertion was made by many of the congregants, both Irish‐ and foreign‐born, and it plays an important role in the sense of belonging that they have constructed at TRIUMPH. The collective identity of the congregants is partially created based on their perceived exclusion from and/or their rejection of the norms of an everyday Irish society heavily influenced by Catholic undercurrents.

One would assume that having such a diversity of religious beliefs could potentially dissolve any unity around which a congregation might coalesce. However, this is quite the opposite of what is happening at TRIUMPH. Many congregants view these varied religious backgrounds as an opportunity to share their beliefs, practices, and experiences with one another in order to better connect as both individuals and as a congregation. This opportunity establishes a powerful bonding experience for the congregants. Importantly, it also provides a way for them to feel welcome in a place and with a group of people which, for many of the migrants at least, might not be the case elsewhere in their day‐to‐day lives in Dublin (see, Ugba 2009). By acknowledging their spiritual differences and embracing them, the congregants suggest that they are able to transform something that could be construed as a negative regarding the construction of their collective religious identity and turn it into a positive force of belonging.

Sunday services at TRIUMPH begin with what could be described as a thirty‐minute concert, where the choir/band performs several Christian songs accompanied by smoke machines, strobe lights, and video projections. These songs inspire the congregation to dance together and collectively sing along from their theater‐style seats. Additionally, the songs also promote the multiculturalism of the church through the use of a varied selection of Christian songs from around the world as well as by the diversity of the singers themselves. The lively atmosphere inside the church is a far cry from the more somber nature of many Catholic services in Dublin. And that is precisely the point: the liturgy is designed to attract people who feel stifled by the perceived antiquated practices of the Catholic Church. During many services, the pastors would even joke about this very thing, claiming that they doubted that the Catholics “down the street” were having as much fun as they were at that moment.

Following the pastor's sermon is the tithe collection, which is a central component of the church. TRIUMPH preaches the prosperity gospel that according to Scott Schieman and Jong Hyun Jung “is a transdenominational doctrine that emphasizes that God grants material prosperity, good health, or relief from sickness to those who have enough faith” (2012, 738). Furthermore, J. Kwabena Asamoah‐Gyadu explains that

the prosperity movement also taps into deep roots in traditional African religions. […] The prosperity message resonates with African religious ideas because of the traditional belief in mystical causality. Tithes, like prayers, are ritual actions that are supposed to make things happen.

(2009, 40)

Given this understanding and the large percentage of African‐born congregants at TRIUMPH, it should come as little surprise as to why the prosperity gospel has become such an important component of the church. From a practical standpoint, this message of prosperity translates into tithing at the church and it is taken quite literally by many of the congregants who donate large sums of money each week—a practice which is extensively criticized by noncongregants (this will be discussed more in the subsection below). However, from the point of view of the congregants, they believe that this practice can be interpreted as being a direct sign of God's influence on their day‐to‐day lives and that they are collectively contributing to the well‐being of their church and their community. According to a Nigerian‐born, male congregant,

Why should I spend my money on things I do not really care about or need? Why should I waste it sitting at a pub like so many Irish do? I gain spiritual fulfillment by donating to my church. I enjoy seeing the benefits of my hard‐earned money helping others and if my generosity helps my soul in the long run, all the better for me.

This quote is revealing on multiple levels. To begin with, he is contrasting his personal identity to what he perceives to be “normal” Irish identity traits. While the stereotyped pub comment speaks for itself in that he is passing judgment for an action that he does not personally agree with, his first sentence is perhaps more important to the overall narrative of this paper. Here, he is indirectly addressing the growing consumerism and materialism in Ireland, which has been linked to the declining significance of religion in Irish society (PBS 2011). Many of the congregants, both Irish and foreign born echo this statement and argue that Ireland has lost its way religiously speaking, in part because of the perceived evils associated with capitalism. Interestingly, this understanding is contradictory to the notion that adherents of the prosperity gospel are only concerned with the personal attainment of wealth and worldly goods. For many of the congregants, their basic understanding of the prosperity gospel and the fundamental importance of tithing is to provide something that will benefit everyone, not just themselves. Consequently, by offering tithes to the church they believe that they are actively contributing to the continued success of their congregation.

Following the tithe collection, there are several other religious practices that the church regularly performs during the service. First are communal faith healings where the pastors, along with several select members of the church, invite others down to the stage where the healings are executed by the placing of hands upon the congregants. This shared practice provides a strong sense of belonging amongst the congregation on several levels. At the scale of the body, there are two individuals who are actively joining together by physically and spiritually connecting with one another on a very personal level. The congregants believe that through this bodily interaction they are soliciting intervention from the divine in order to alleviate specific problems in their lives. At a slightly larger scale, there is the communal nature of this practice as many individuals are collectively participating in the healing. Additionally, this action takes place in the presence of the larger congregation and even for those congregants who do not directly participate, the communal nature of this event means that they are not simply passive spectators. Rather, they are involved in the process by bearing witness to a divine intervention. Accordingly, faith healing at TRIUMPH becomes a very emotional endeavor and many in the congregation cannot help but to be caught up in the highs and lows that are inherent with this spiritual engagement. Plus, when congregants believe that they have been spiritually or literally healed from whatever ails them, this reality provides further credibility to not only the religious practice itself, but it also imparts a confidence in the collective spiritual power of the church and the congregation.

A second religious practice commonly conducted at this juncture of the service is a lengthy inspirational prayer. Based on my conversations and experiences, this practice is specifically designed to incorporate African elements to the service. Here, one of the African‐born congregants dressed in full ethnic attire addresses the congregation and generally this prayer includes the use of glossolalia. According to William Samarin “the experience [of Glossolalia is defined], linguistically, by the fact, or the belief, that a person under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit utters a language totally unknown to himself” (1968, 49). These types of prayers are more than simple recitations from biblical scripture. Instead, they are a rallying cry of sorts and given the underlying meaning of glossolalia, they are messages coming directly from the divine. During these prayers, the congregants are standing up and many are gesticulating with their hands and arms while collectively answering the calls of the speaker with “Amen's,” “Praise the Lord,” “Hallelujah's,” and/or clapping in approval of the message being conveyed. This extremely active engagement inspires a unique fervor in the church that is almost palpable. Several congregants described this feeling as being “electric” while many others suggest that it is the “holy spirit” filling them with good will and righteous thoughts. A Filipino congregant said that she has become “addicted to the feeling that she gets during these prayers” and an Irish‐born congregant half‐jokingly claimed that it is “orgasmic.”

This religious practice is an important element of the social integration process at the church. By handing over the leadership role of the service to a foreign‐born congregant, the Irish‐born pastors are indicating to the congregation that TRIUMPH and its spiritual messages belong to every member of the church. In this way, these prayers empower the foreign‐born congregants and signify their equality in the eyes of the church. At the same time, this religious practice also creates a further distinction between TRIUMPH and the Irish Catholic Church.

A third commonly employed activity at the church involves the use of video messages from outside sources. These videos are specifically employed to demonstrate to the congregation that the “fight” is not theirs alone—that others in the world are also preaching similar messages and that through the power of Jesus, this message is growing exponentially. Typically the videos are portions of a sermon or speech from well‐known religious figures, such as the Pentecostal televangelist Morris Cerullo or the founder of Christian International Europe, Dr. Sharon Stone. These videos represent more evangelistic practices and they are primarily utilized to promote the participation of the congregants in church‐related events and to encourage them to proselytize the public about the good works of TRIUMPH.

According to the head pastor, the acceptance and promotion of such an assortment of religious beliefs and practices has significantly contributed to the ethno‐national diversity of the church. When TRIUMPH was first established, Ireland did not have a large population of migrants so this diversification of the congregation was not one of the main objectives for the church's creation. Today, however, TRIUMPH's multiculturalism is one of the first things that an outsider notices when they attend Sunday service and it is one of the fundamental attributes that contributes to the church's uniqueness within Dublin's religioscape. To be sure, there are other Christian churches in Ireland that accommodate foreign‐born migrants (see, Ugba 2009). However, these “immigrant” churches are typically just that; by and large they do not incorporate many Irish‐born residents into their congregation. This certainly is not the case at TRIUMPH, where there is a mixture of Irish‐born citizens and migrants from twenty‐eight countries around the world. When I discussed the multicultural makeup of the congregation with the head pastor, he said,

Well, we didn't really set out to be that. We just spoke the word of God and were welcoming to all that came. Other churches in Ireland are not as welcoming to people of color. Initially we were an all‐Irish, all‐white Church and then one Black gospel singer wanted to join and the word spread. Now, there are more foreigners here than native Irish.

The congregants were very eager to share specific stories concerning the ethno‐national diversity of the church and how the congregation is like one big multicultural family. The majority of these examples were fairly straightforward and predictable, such as the development of interracial friendships and/or romantic relationships. However, there were a few comments that stood out as being unique and that contribute to the larger narrative of this paper.

A Ghanaian‐born, female congregant, thirty‐six‐years‐old:

When I first arrived in Ireland I didn't know anybody and all I did was work [as a nurse]. I did not socialize or interact much with the people in the community. After being reborn in [TRIUMPH] I now feel like I have something to contribute to society and I try to share God's message whenever and wherever I can.

A Nigerian‐born, male congregant, thirty‐eight‐years‐old:

I came to [TRIUMPH] a few days after I had been harassed by a group of Irish teenagers who had thrown rocks and bottles at me and told me to “go back to Africa ni**er.” I was not too religious before this incident but I was questioning whether to leave Ireland when an Irish‐born neighbor convinced me to go to [TRIUMPH] with him. As soon as I walked in the front doors I was embraced by an older Irish woman and for some reason I immediately felt like I was home. As soon as I saw how multicultural the congregation was, I knew that this was the place that I needed to spend my time if I wanted to succeed in Ireland.

A Brazilian‐born, male congregant, twenty‐eight‐years‐old:

I am appalled by how the Irish society [at large] treats foreigners like myself. The Irish at [TRIUMPH] do not do that, they are welcoming and kind and they helped me learn about the city and the country when I first arrived. Now that I have been here awhile, I try to help other foreigners in the same way by bringing them to [TRIUMPH] so that they can experience the Ireland that I now know exists. We are all God's children after all.

An Irish‐born, female congregant, fifty‐two‐years old:

I was raised in the Catholic Church but like most Irish‐Catholics that I know, I really didn't consider myself religious. Attending service was boring, like a weekly chore. One day I came to [TRIUMPH] for Starbucks and decided to try it out. That Sunday I heard a young black girl sing so beautifully about the power of Christ that I was compelled to join the church. I love the African influence here. It provides a spiritual energy that is sorely lacking in the Irish Catholic Church.

These quotes clearly demonstrate how religion can be viewed as a bridge to the social integration process. All four of the congregants discuss specific traits associated with TRIUMPH and how it has contributed to their sense of belonging within the congregation of the church. For the Ghanaian‐born congregant, she has found a certain social strength in her new found religiosity which has given her the courage to become more actively engaged within the local community. She refers to the congregation as her family and volunteers her time each week to proselytize for the church. She claims to have “adopted” several dozen foreign‐born individuals and families into her “family” since she became a congregant.

For the Nigerian‐born congregant, TRIUMPH provided a safe space for him to escape to following a traumatic racist interaction that made him question his place in his new home. Unfortunately, his experience is not an isolated one amongst the foreign‐born congregants. During my time at TRIUMPH, I heard far too many stories about similar situations involving discrimination, harassment, racism, and xenophobia. Despite this, however, many of those same congregants who were forced to endure these terrible experiences have taken on the mentality shared by the Brazilian congregant, who has used his personal integration experiences in Ireland (negative) and at the church (positive) as a motivation to “pay it forward” to newer migrants. In an important way, then, the negative experiences that the congregants encounter outside of the church as individuals only serves to strengthen the collective social cohesion of the congregation as a whole.

Finally, the Irish‐born congregant has embraced elements of the ethnic diversity at the church and the personal enjoyment that she now gets while attending religious services has led to her becoming a member of a community that she might not have joined otherwise. On several occasions, she took great pride in telling me about the “food around the world” luncheons that she organizes with other women in the congregation. And while this may sound somewhat trivial, it is these mundane gestures of friendship—or neighborliness (Agrawal 2008) or belongingness (Gilmartin 2015)—where social integration is occurring on a daily basis in Dublin.

For the majority of the congregants that I spoke to, TRIUMPH's multiculturalism is by far the most important component of the church. They view the diversity of the congregation as something to be celebrated due to its uniqueness and its promise of future prosperity, both in this world and the next. Some even take it a step further by stating that ethnic/national backgrounds present at the church do not really matter in the grand scheme of things. They argue that the Christian nation is the only nation of importance and that God does not care where on Earth someone is born so why should they. An Irish‐born female congregant said of TRIUMPH,

where else can you find such a diverse group of people all in one place, at one time, and all coming together as one with the power of Jesus Christ on our side? We are truly a righteous army rising up.

This last point refers to a common theme preached at TRIUMPH. Many times I heard the pastors and the congregants refer to their congregation as being a “Christian Army” that needs to join together to fend off those inspired by the Devil who are intent with doing harm in the world, and more specifically, against their church and its message. In this way, the congregants have begun to see themselves as soldiers fighting for God's, and the church's, will. Numerous examples were made that suggested that while one solider can make a difference in a war, when soldiers unite together to form an army they are much more successful in their endeavors. Therefore, this unification of a diverse population of individuals under the same collective banner of religious belief forms the foundation of TRIUMPH and to a large part it is why social integration has been so successful within the walls of the church. However, this construction of a Christian Army has by definition also contributed to the creation of barriers that distinguish TRIUMPH congregants from non‐congregants.

Barrier

Public opposition directed towards the church began in Dublin even before the new TRIUMPH complex was completed in 2009. This multimillion‐Euro facility is by far the largest single building in the neighborhood where it is located and its ostentatious nature has caused several problems over the years within the community. The initial concern was its physical location as TRIUMPH is situated on land that was previously part of a popular public park. With the construction of the facility, the size of the park has been significantly reduced. Several of the noncongregant residents whom I spoke to told me that they had expressed their discontent when the facility was being built. Many also remembered that someone had spray‐painted, ten‐foot‐tall letters on the construction site's barrier wall that read “Keep God Out of [neighborhood name]!” It should be noted that approximately 1000 feet away from TRIUMPH is a Catholic church. Apparently then, “God” in this context refers to the religious practices specifically associated with TRIUMPH and not Catholicism. TRIUMPH's junior pastor told me that he believes this lone act of vandalism created a precedent for how his church was later perceived by the local community.

Additionally, the timing of the building's construction did not help the situation considering that the Irish economy was in the midst of the global recession and the European debt crisis. In May 2008, when the church broke ground, the Irish unemployment rate was at 5.7 percent and by December 2009 when the church officially opened, the unemployment rate in Ireland had more than doubled to 13 percent.⁴ With many families in Dublin struggling financially, an Irish‐born, noncongregant reflected on this time period saying, “here's this monstrosity that serves as a constant visual reminder of the wealth acquired by immigrants at the expense of the Irish population.” This ever‐present negative public perception of the church by the local community has led to many noncongregants giving TRIUMPH's facility the nickname, the “Compound” and this dubious‐sounding moniker underscores their understanding of TRIUMPH as a being a type of religious cult.

I asked several of the congregants at TRIUMPH about this particular criticism and most simply laughed it off by indicating the people making that claim know nothing about their church. Yet, their responses were also typically defensive in nature and many included critiques of Irish Catholicism. For example, a seventy‐year‐old, Irish‐born female congregant said,

People think we are a cult because we see the world differently than they do. This scares them. We turned our backs to the normal way of doing things and have created our own community here; a community in the name of Jesus. Do I think [TRIUMPH] is a cult? No. If anything, it is the opposite because here we have a say in our own ways of worship instead of being told how and when to pray like the Catholics are. I was once one of those sheep and now I am born‐again and can see the light.

One of TRIUMPH's harshest critics is a director at Dialogue Ireland, which “is an independent trust that works to promote awareness and understanding of religious issues and cultism in Ireland.”⁵ I interviewed the director in 2013 and while he stops short of calling TRIUMPH a cult, he does indicate that there are certain aspects of the church that make it “cultish.” He claims that being a member of TRIUMPH “is like being on crack‐cocaine rather than tea” and that it is difficult to talk to the congregants there “because they're under the influence.” The director's main criticism of TRIUMPH concerns the prosperity gospel, which he likens to a Ponzi scheme that is “predicated on a financial model of interpreting reality.” The prosperity gospel is very much a part of religious teachings at TRIUMPH as mentioned previously, and this message is clear right when you walk into the church. Adjacent to the front desk is a glass wall that has several phrases written on it, including: “Give freely and become wealthy” and “Be stingy and lose everything.” Likewise, the tithing envelope that is used at TRIUMPH has a biblical verse written on the inside that states, “God loves people who love to give.” The problem here, according to the director, is that this is a somewhat misleading use of the actual passage which in full reads,

Each of you must make up your own mind about how much to give. But don't feel sorry that you must give and don't feel that you are forced to give. God loves people who love to give.

(2 Corinthians, 9:7 CEV)

By highlighting only the last sentence of the verse, the director claims that the church is providing a false message designed to mislead the congregants into giving more money than they can afford. The director also believes that these messages associated with the prosperity gospel become even more dangerous when, as he elaborates, “you're dealing with the most vulnerable immigrant people who themselves are aspiring to be wealthy in a context where they are slaving to keep ahead.”

While many of the noncongregants share a similar antipathy with the prosperity gospel, the majority of their negative connotations and stereotypes of TRIUMPH have to do with some of the other religious beliefs and practices at the church, with faith healing, glossolalia, and proselytizing being the three most frequently mentioned. Below are several comments about TRIUMPH from non‐congregants:

An Irish‐born, Roman Catholic female, thirty‐two‐years old:

I heard they say things like “la‐ba‐don, la‐la‐fa‐la‐la” in church and actually believe they are speaking to God or that God is speaking through them. What a bunch of loons they are. I wish they'd just leave us regular folks alone but I see them all over [a neighborhood in Dublin] trying to convert people.

A Nigerian‐born, nonreligious male, forty‐years old:

I work with a few African members of that church. They are ok as long as we do not talk about religion. I have a bum knee from an old football injury and they are always trying to get me to go with them to get it “healed” [he did air quotes when he said this]. I might be wrong but I do believe a doctor knows more about my knee than some Pastor does. […] These rather bizarre religious practices are contributing to the negative reception we [i.e. African immigrants] are receiving in Ireland.

An Irish‐born, Roman Catholic female, twenty‐eight‐years old:

Did you know that they do faith healings over there? Probably have snake charmers too. They are immigrants after all. […] The only good thing about [TRIUMPH] is the Starbucks coffee. I just wish I didn't have to worry about being converted when I go in there.

An Irish‐born, Roman Catholic male, sixty‐two‐years old:

Who knows what goes on there when we're not looking. They are so secretive; ‘tis a bit creepy if you ask me. Most are Africans and they do all sorts of weird things, even slaughtered a sheep once I heard. That shite has no business in Ireland.

These comments reflect just some of the negative gossip that has developed about TRIUMPH over the past several years and this rumor mill is primarily and continually constructed by misinformation and bigotry. The first comment above references the church's use of glossolalia and Evangelical‐style proselytization. Importantly, the respondent uses these religious practices to juxtapose “them” from the “us” that she identifies with and who she interprets as “regular folks.” When I asked her to expand on this discussion related to “us” and “them,” she was quick to point out that she has Polish immigrant friends, who she had coincidentally met in her local Catholic church, and that her main concern with TRIUMPH was purely concerning their “strange” religious practices. The second comment specifically disparages the religious practice of faith healing at TRIUMPH. Here, the respondent could not be clearer about what he believes this means in terms of the social integration of African migrants in Ireland as a whole. It should be pointed out, however, that while this particular comment is specifically about TRIUMPH, this respondent was against organized religion in general. During our interview he said, “I am already black. I do not need another reason to be different.”

The third and fourth comments reflect some of the xenophobic ignorance inherent in parts of contemporary Irish society. To my knowledge the congregants at TRIUMPH do not utilize snake charming and have never slaughtered a sheep for religious purposes. The three Irish‐born individuals quoted above all work at various businesses located in a suburban shopping center near TRIUMPH and all three expressed their distaste for when congregants entered their businesses. My follow‐up question to these three individuals was how exactly did they know who was a TRIUMPH congregant. Here's one of their responses:

You just know. First of all, most are immigrants so that sends up a red flag right there. As for the Irish ones, they tend to act a bit funny or they will mention God in their conversation with you. You think to yourself, “I'm just here to take your food order. I don't want to hear about your God,” but then they keep going on about “praise be this” or “praise be that.” It just gets annoying after awhile. I probably shouldn't say this and I'm not a bigot or anything but when they come in here I hope that they don't sit at one of my tables.

Far too often during my conversations with Irish‐born noncongregants about migrants living in Dublin, I would hear phrases like, “I'm not a racist/bigot, but …,” which of course is typically followed by some form of discriminatory statement. With that said, I do not believe that the majority of these individuals are outright bigots. Rather, what their statements represent is a level of xenophobic ignorance perpetuated by “us” vs. “them” categorizations. This in turn helps to both reinforce and create new, “barriers to belonging,” thereby obstructing migrants’ pathways to social integration in Irish society (Gilmartin 2015, 143).

Conclusion

This paper has explored numerous ways in which religion and religious beliefs are important components to consider when examining the social integration of migrants. On the one hand, this case study has shown that religion can be interpreted as a bridge, facilitating social integration by creating a strong sense of belonging amongst its congregants (regardless of their place of birth) and by encouraging foreign‐born members of the church to become more active within their new community. On the other hand, however, differences in religious beliefs can also serve as barriers to this process, especially in a country where there is such a strong historical connection to one specific religion—in this case, the Catholic Church in Ireland. Indeed, these differences have further reinforced, or more accurately, established new identity boundaries between an “us” and a “them” based on the “discourses and practices of socio‐spatial inclusion and exclusion” inherent in Irish society (Alderman and Inwood 2013, 219).

In order to better understand the relationship between religion and social integration, the research in this paper has concentrated on TRIUMPH, its congregation, as well as the church's relationship with the noncongregant members of surrounding community. TRIUMPH was specifically selected for this research because it represents a unique case study given its diversity, both in terms of its assorted spiritual beliefs and religious practices, as well as the multicultural composition of its congregation. Accordingly, TRIUMPH has provided a means to examine several layers of socio‐spatial analysis within this research. First, it has demonstrated how the congregation of a nontraditional Christian church has created a distinctive collective identity based on their strong sense of belonging to the church. Second, TRIUMPH provided a way to better understand how the varied spiritual beliefs of non‐Western migrants have been incorporated into an Irish‐led church and how the Irish‐born congregants have facilitated and integrated many of these “atypical” religious practices into their own belief structures. Third, it has revealed how multiculturalism can be utilized to create a positive environment within the communal setting of a church as well as how it can also exploited for the church's benefit. Fourth, TRIUMPH allowed for an examination into the ways in which a nontraditional Christian church operates within an environment that is dominated by a hegemonic religious entity. Finally, the “uniqueness” of the religious beliefs and practices at TRIUMPH within the religious construct of Ireland presented the opportunity to engage with noncongregant members of the community in order to more thoroughly comprehend how religious differences also influence social integration.

As a final point, one must take into account that this research provides only a brief snapshot of the events occurring in Dublin and is not intended to be a definitive analysis applicable to all situations. Integration by its very nature is determined by various contested notions of identity related to the geographies of inclusion and exclusion, which therefore makes it unique to a given circumstance. It is also important to remember that integration—whether through religion, economics, civic engagement, or education—is not an immediate process that transpires magically overnight. Rather, integration is a gradual process that may require several generations to occur and it will only be successful if all sides are willing to participate. Nevertheless, given the rise in xenophobic rhetoric in Europe and elsewhere, it is imperative for geographers who study the intersections of religion and migration to examine those areas that have the potential to foster more inclusive societies.

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Neil Conner

Dr. Neil Conner, Assistant Professor of Geography and Social Science Education, Delta State University, Cleveland MS, 38733; [[email protected]].

Notes

1. 2012‐‐2014

2. U.N. 2013 report of foreign‐born population percentages: Spain (13.8 percent), the United Kingdom (12.4 percent), Germany (11.9 percent), France (11.6 percent), and Italy (9.4 percent)

3. CDD23: Population Usually Resident and Present in the State by Province County or City, Sex, Birthplace and Census Year and CD759: Population Usually Resident and Present in the State by Sex, Birthplace, Religion and Census Year. Total foreign‐born population (766,770)‐‐‐Total Roman Catholic foreign‐born population (461,395) = foreign‐born, non‐Catholics = 305,375 = 39.8 percent

4. Seasonally Adjusted Standardized Unemployment Rates (SUR), http://www.cso.ie/multiquicktables/quickTables.aspx?id=lrm03_lra03

5. Dialogue Ireland, https://dialogueireland.wordpress.com/