« Only birds of a feather? | Main | Birds of many feathers Part II: As long as the birds can get high enough to see beyond the crevasse »
October 04, 2006
Birds of many feathers (as long as we don't talk about feathers)
I'm really interested in this whole discussion (from the last post). It sounds like we all agree that meaningful relationship across the religious divide is possible, but only if:
a) we don't talk about religion, or
b) we're open to the other person being right (about their religious beliefs) or both of us being wrong or
c) we think we're right, but we nevertheless don't see other people as projects, in need of conversion.
Here's the problem I see: none of these seem like options for the deeply devout. Am I wrong in this? When I was an evangelical Christian, I took my faith very seriously. My feelings, on one level, so confirmed for me the rightness of my spiritual path, and the teachings of my holy book seemed to so clearly say mine was the only True way, that the thought of another religion being more true than mine was nearly inconceivable. Furthermore, my understanding of hell, and my conviction that many would end up there if they didn't turn to Jesus: these made it nearly impossible for me NOT to see anyone not so turned as a mission field. I didn't use in-your-face conversion tactics, but I was very aware of trying to be a good witness for the Truth, of watching for chances to speak of Jesus, of feeling a warm gladness if conversation turned to religious things. My heart was good; I genuinely wanted non-Christians to know the Truth, and to spend eternity with God. But the effect of this good-heartedness was to make people into projects. My relationships were colored by this conversion agenda, and when things stayed "light" (i.e. I just had fun with non-Christians and didn't think or talk about anything goddish) I felt by the end of the time a little disappointed, and a little bit guilty.
Is is possible to not be like this, and also be deeply devout? I'd love to hear what it would look like if it is.
Taking steps away from religion, I think it's entirely possible to have conversion agendas about things other than God. We all have them--desires for friends to try the beer we like, or join the neighborhood watch, or be convinced of global warming, or that we need to do something about Darfur, Congo, AIDS, cancer research, etc. The difference, though--and this is part of Harris's point I think--is that all of these other agendas can be discussed in terms of observable evidence, while the finer points of religious belief cannot. At the end of the day, a "leap of faith" must be made when it comes to trusting that God has revealed God's ultimate plan for the world in the Bible, or Allah dictated the Quran, or a man named Noah existed, and all of us--black, brown, white, yellow, red--are his descendants.
So the agendas on the plates of the religiously devout have a different sort of charge to them I think, and a really challenging combination of having everything at stake (i.e. eternal location), and no luxury of observable evidence, beyond our subjective feelings of our religion being true, of God being one way versus another, etc., to use for the convincing. How can we as humans NOT get a little dogmatic, even if just in our hearts, when we're up against this sort of challenge, and needing to psyche ourselves up for the work we feel God's given us to do?
I'm still back to wondering whether it's possible for the religously devout to come to relationship with people of other faiths, or no faith, and have the kind of intimacy with them, or just merely the respect, that seems built on seeing each other as equals. I'm thinking that it's not.
01:26 PM in Bridge-building, Psychology, Religion/Spirituality | Permalink
TrackBack
TrackBack URL for this entry:
http://www.typepad.com/t/trackback/6273775
Listed below are links to weblogs that reference Birds of many feathers (as long as we don't talk about feathers):
Comments
Not everyone who is devout is also evangelical.
I read an article recently about Hutterites, a plain dressing people who live in devout Christian communities and do not accept converts.
Judaism too, at least for some, is not about proselytizing - if you weren't born Jewish, or your mother wasn't Jewish, too bad for you.
It also depends, I suppose, on whether you believe there is an "eternal location" - I'm not so sure myself.
Or maybe like Quakers Phillip Gulley and James Mulholland outline in their books, "If Grace Is True" and "If God Is Love", what if we are all already saved by God's love and it is Jesus's work to convince people - not ours. Our job is just to love them the best we can.
Posted by: Robin M. | Oct 4, 2006 4:02:07 PM
Robin, good point. Devoutness does not equal evangelical. It sounds like you're naming two types of non-evangelically devout people, too: those who aren't evangelical because they don't believe anyone from outside of their group can become insiders, and those who aren't evangelical because they think maybe, in the long run, everyone is already on the inside. This latter group seems like one comprised of those who can be both devout and build relationships of equality with people of other faiths or no faith. The former actually seem farthest from this possibility to me--farther than evangelicals who at least see the option or potential of outsiders finding their (the evangelicals') truth and joining their tradition.
Posted by: Kristin | Oct 4, 2006 8:30:40 PM
I am really enjoying everyone's comments so far...good stuff.
This is a really tough topic to get language for, in order to do justice to "the devout."
I have been thinking about a possible reason why it is so very hard for devout of any faith to do any of the "open" types of discussion we have been suggesting. I think part of it may stem very early in ethical formation, at least that's one hunch I'm working on (also a PhD proposal). When you grow up linking a person's goodness (including your own) to a particular set of beliefs and worldview, it is VERY difficult to trust anyone's actions/motives/ideas if they do not start from the same position. This is why, even if they have a good-sounding idea, if they can't express it in language the devout are used to (maybe biblical), than the idea is suspect: who knows where it really comes from, or where it leads to?! Without a common worldview, a common starting point, it is very hard to trust the ethical direction of anyone outside one's faith.
This needs more explaining...but just wanted to put the idea out there. I guess my hunch is, the very nature of a religion (i.e. the fact that it sets out a particular worldiview from the beginning) makes it, at best hesitant, and at worst hostile, to "open dialogue."
Lori
Posted by: Lori | Oct 5, 2006 5:01:17 PM
Great discussion. On a personal level, I have a friend who is Muslim and keeps giving me Muslim literature, looking sadly at me when I insist I can't believe as he does. I think he thinks that eventually, if he keeps "working" on me, I will "get it", at last. I keep wondering in what way I am trying to "work on" him -- and I hope I'm not. But, can I honestly say I don't feel "superior"? On some theoretical level, it's easy, but at the heart and soul level? Different story! Sad comment to make about oneself, maybe?
Posted by: Kati | Oct 5, 2006 6:59:24 PM
i signed up today on my campus where i work for a fast-a-thon put on by the Muslim community later in the month...at the end of the fast, we share a meal together at the Mosque with all the participants..i will be thinking about all of these comments and your post...go figure that any of this would ever apply to me ...will let you know how the interactions go
Posted by: atticus | Oct 5, 2006 7:40:03 PM
Lori, I really like what you're saying. If it's true, it makes me wonder whether devout people of faith who were not religious as children--maybe who became religious as adolescents or adults--have a potential advantage for coming to relationships with people of other traditions or no tradition with more openness. Could it be that early development, like you say, causes certain pathways in our brains to develop around the concept of truth, or Truth, rather, so that it's very hard, even when we want to, to change these pathways as adults? I have a robust rational function in my mind, cultivated over years, but still find myself reacting on the feeling level to certain situations and ideas and language like I did as a child or adolescent, in stark contrast to what my rational mind would say today is appropriate in those situations. But I guess this is just what you were saying.
Kati, I agree, it is sad to say of oneself. This whole conversation makes me sad, on one level, because of the need to even have it. I hate it that we have to be divided or distanced, on whatever level, from anyone. And yet at the same time, it seems like getting conscious of our feelings--even one's we aren't proud of--is the only wiggle room we can hope for in changing what comes so naturally to us--in this case, condescending to those who don't see things our way. I keep coming back to the idea that seeing people as people, rather than as Christians or Muslims or Buddhists, or whatever, is maybe the only way, at least for me, to not condescend in my heart to those whose spiritual paths are not mine. I can't relate very well with a religious worldview right now, but I can relate extremely well with being human. This evens things out for me, makes it feel like we're all in the same club.
Atticus, I'll love to hear how things go. Sounds like a really great opportunity.
Posted by: Kristin | Oct 5, 2006 9:35:50 PM
I think one of the primary dangers of being devout is feeling that one is secure. feeling that Truth (some ultimate, ontological, supernatural thing) is within one's grasp. not grasped, but nearly. it is within one's sights. when this security sets in, it is very hard to take any alternatives to what makes one feel secure. they are seen as challenges, threats, and all dialogue and even viewing the other as human, can dissapate.
If devotion can include insecurity, vulnerability, i think it can be non-violent. it has potential for that.
i am no expert on the world's religions, but it seems most if not all religions have a concept or respond to the reality of transcendence. if transcendence is conceived of as mysterious and beyond the grasp of humankind, there is also room for non-violence because it allows for God, the transcendent, or force, or whatever, to be bigger and deeper and wider than we can imagine. it/he/she can question our assumptions without undermining our very selves, our conceptions of the world around us.
as for religion in general, i am working in my own research to come up with a working conception of what religion even is. perhaps this is at the base of it? the book of James in the Bible calls 'pure, unspoilt religion in the eyes of God our Father ... coming to the help of orphans and widows in their hardships, and keeping oneself uncontaminated by the world' (james 1:27). from my perspective, a healthy dose of both of these elements - pure unspoilt religion and a truly transcendent God - would lead to a different experience of religion in our day and age.
Posted by: julianne | Oct 7, 2006 4:07:37 AM
This is really beautifull, Julianne. I think you're right. Security and identity are so important for us, or at least many of us, that it's very hard to hold them loosely--I think even when we're trying to! What comes much more naturally, it seems, is to take the mix that we're given of nature and nurture and experience and observation and study, and forge from it a somewhat coherent sense for how the world works, how we fit into it, and how something transcendent plays a part. This sense becomes like bones for us, or skin, or blood--something that if taken away feels life threatening. To hold loosely to our bones, for example, feels so impossible--to not get used to our contours when they're present, and what they mean for how we move and act in time and space. I don't know a ton about Buddhism, but certain strains of it seem to incorporate well a mindset, practiced through meditation, that these things we think are bones--this sense we've made of God and self and world--is transcended by Reality, always, by far. Buddhists don't seem to have the history of violence, either, that Christians and Muslims and Jews have so troublingly had.
All that to say, I think you're really onto something, and I'm inspired to think more about how it's possible to be a devout Muslim or Christian or Jew, and also vulnerable and insecure in the ways you describe. What would this look like? What would such people believe?
Posted by: Kristin | Oct 7, 2006 12:13:03 PM
I was thinking about Kristin's comment above, about feeling sad that its so hard to have religious tolerance for each other, especially true respect. But you know, I am wondering if its just as hard to have respect and tolerance (i.e. working hard to remind oneself that your perspective is always limited, not "The Truth") for each other just in daily life, religion aside. I say this b/c I am a waitress right now, and I get to interact with a really diverse staff every day, none of whom are religious. I am starting to think its just a human thing to have difficulty not being "self-centric;" most people think their view is the correct one, if you really press them on it. Add to that a religious worldview, and the sanction of the Creator of the Universe, and you have great impetus to act very boldly to enforce The Truth. But I think it starts at the very root of who we are, that its just difficult to think/feel/understand life from outside of ourselves, and its something we have to work at no matter what our background.
When I think of animals, say a little rabbit out in the woods, I get encouraged: that little rabbit's world is totally "rabbit-centric." It has to be, otherwise she wouldn't survive; while humans have the ability it seems to empathize and think outside of themselves, to reflect, I think we still have a similar biological drive to protect our own life. I guess it makes me feel more compassion for all of us, human and otherwise, that we should remember when we're religious or non-religious that seeing ourselves as right is going to be a natural tendency, and we have to actively guard against letting that develop into maligning others. Simple, and powerful. We are not above our instincts, but we can shape and train them.
Posted by: Lori | Oct 7, 2006 5:18:40 PM
OMG, Lori. SO TRUE. You're so right. I love what you've said here. It makes me breathe a big sigh of relief and self-acceptance.
Posted by: Kristin | Oct 7, 2006 5:49:16 PM
(Hi, I just dropped in here out of nowhere :-> Lovely post, & discussion!)
The three religions (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) mostly talked about here place a very high importance on subscribing to a set of assertions about the nature of God and of reality. They're odd, that way: most religions don't care much about that. If being devout means subscribing to a particular list of assertions then I think there will always be a serious divide between people who subscribe to one set and people who subscribe to another; however tolerant they may be, each has to think that the other is seriously and disastrously wrong.
But if subscribing to a set of assertions about reality is not central to your religion -- and again, in most religions it is not central at all -- then you really don't have a problem. I have my practices and religious experiences, and you have yours, and that's fine; there's no particular reason they should be the same.
Posted by: dale | Oct 7, 2006 6:23:59 PM
Dale, so nice to meet you. Yes, this assertion business really is at the heart of this divide. It makes me feel a kind of hopelessness about the religious violence in our world lessening, since these three religions make up such a huge percentage of our world's devout. While I'm heartened by moves in many subsets of these religions toward non-violence, I nevertheless sympathize with Harris's concerns.
Posted by: Kristin | Oct 8, 2006 1:53:13 PM
I wonder why we find it so hard as humans to just trust that our own connecting with God, or the Divine, or the Universe (whatever name you want to give) is valid and good and that other's is too?...I think it goes back, at least in part, to the tremendous appeal of a shared reality. It is easier and so much more comfortable if the experiences of God we have make sense to each other, if we share language, and if we can grow together in that devotion somehow. I suppose in this way, its like many other ideals/ideas we might be drawn to and have in common with others: they create a bond that we find immensely satisfying. I just don't know how we'd ever get around the particularity of devotion that stems originates in any of these three religions. Seems like the desire for a common bond, a shared reality, quickly becomes (sub)merged with the desire to be RIGHT...
Posted by: Lori | Oct 9, 2006 6:24:00 PM
The comments to this entry are closed.
