1. Religious Pluralism: The New Orthodoxy
Our contemporary social context is one in which many religions mix and intermingle. A casual walk down a street in a large or growing city reveals to the interested a synagogue, church, mosque, gudwara, temple and many other sacred sites. The choices can be bewildering, but there is no doubt there are plenty of choices for those on the spiritual path.
We have, gratefully so, left behind a rather stunted period in western intellectual history in which a one-dimensional and single vision form of science excluded, in the guise of objectivity and empiricism, the important reality and role of spirituality and religion. Science is now much more open to the larger religious questions, and, in many ways, the secular wing of the Enlightenment has been replaced, as a cultural model, by the humanist branch of the Enlightenment. This means that mysticism and religion are now seen as valid and vital ways of knowing and being human, but no religious tradition has the final and ultimate word. In short, all the grand metanarratives and truth telling visions of the world religions have been relativized. The new liberal Orthodoxy is Enlightenment humanism with its commitment to religious pluralism and, often, some form of religious syncretism.
We do not need to hike too far down the trail of contemporary religious life to discover that a certain attitude predetermines how we understand the relationship between Christianity and other faith traditions. Many an analogy is used, but each metaphor, when unpacked, tells much the same tale and story. Living faiths need to be seen as distinct yet different musicians in a symphony of living faiths. Or, there is the circle of voices and parliament of world religions. Then, there are the many flowers in the spacious garden of truth or stars of light in the night canopy. We could turn our feet to the many paths to the mountain summit or diverse climbing routes to a snow white peak. There are, of course, the mansions of the spirit and communities of faith. Each of these living faith traditions has been, rightly so, woven on the loom of time, and who are we to discard such sacred threads on the well wrought loom?
I could go on and on listing various analogies offered, but when each of these vivid metaphors is handed to us, they tell a distinctive and not to be missed tale. The conclusion cannot be avoided. No religious tradition can claim ultimate and final authority. Each is a finite and fallible expression of the Divine mystery no human mind or imagination can comprehend. Those who dare to suggest that any faith tradition is better or truer than another are snared in pride and arrogance.
We should be grateful, of course, that the short and futile drama of secular humanism has run its course. It had to for the simple reason that the deepest human longings and desires transcend the various forms of the finite. There has been, in the last few decades, a resurgence and growing interest in spirituality, mysticism and the contemplative. Often, sadly so, spirituality is pitted against religion in a reactionary, shortsighted and dualistic manner, but there is no doubt, many are on a religious quest and search once again.
It is impossible to miss the obstinate fact that spirituality, mysticism and the contemplative are in vogue, and, equally true, that no path is more valid than another. Books such as A Matter of Spirit: Recovery of the Sacred in Contemporary Canadian Poetry (1998), Divine Hunger: Canadians on Spiritual Walkabout (2002), Woven on the Loom of Time: Many Faiths and One Divine Purpose (1999) and The Ground We Share: Everyday Practice, Buddhist and Christian (1994) clearly reflect the fact a spiritual hunger exists and is on the move, but no religious tradition can claim to offer the best food of eternal life the soul so craves. The liberal form of Anglicanism in North America tends to reflect, in a predictable and uncritical way, the liberal Orthodoxy of our age and ethos. Mansions of the Spirit: The Gospel in a Multi-Faith World (1997), by Bishop Michael Ingham and The Coming United Religions (1998), by Bishop William Swing tend to genuflect to the spirit of the age, a spirit that bows to the liberal Orthodoxy of pluralism.
It is important to recognize, therefore, that the new Orthodoxy of our age is a child of the humanist wing of the Enlightenment, and such an Orthodox position has its own creeds, dogmas and deeper prejudices, philosophic principles and Sanhedrin (that will protect and defend such a tribe when threatened). Let us follow this path a few more steps down the trail, though.
2. Liberalism, Orthodoxy and the Sanhedrin
There has been much debate about the origins of liberalism within the ongoing conversation of intellectual history. Some have argued that liberalism was birthed in the Reformation period of the 16th century (with its denominational pluralism). Others have argued that in the 17th century thinkers such as John Locke and others articulated a form of religious and political liberalism that prepared the stage for the drama of liberal Orthodoxy. Then there are those who have suggested that liberalism in its more mature form was best framed in the Enlightenment period of the 18th century. Lessing’s Nathan the Wise embodies a form of religious pluralism in which Jew, Christian and Muslim, if truly wise, informed and insightful, realize that each religious tradition participates within a much larger religious and spiritual truth.
The dialogue and ongoing conversation about the origins of liberalism have their legitimate place within the history of intellectual thought, but the principles of liberalism are equally important. It is such principles (or ideas) that are like seeds that produce a certain kind of plant. Ideas do have consequences, and once the underlying idea, principle or seed notion is understood, the consequences follow as surely and as predictably as night follows day or as an acorn becomes an oak tree. What are the foundation ideas, principles or seed notions at the core and heart of liberalism, and who is the Sanhedrin that defends and protects this liberal Orthodoxy? And, more to the point of this essay, what is the impact of such a position on the timely question and issue of Christianity and other faith traditions? Is the symphony of living faiths the finest music to heed and hear?
There are two axial aspects of the liberal position, and once these principles are rightly understood, most of their conclusions follow as predictably as effect follows cause or autumn follows summer. First, liberals take the position that the mind is finite and fallible, conditioned and shaped by time and history, hence any conclusive or final position on ultimate issues is pretentious and beyond the ken of the human mind. And, to follow such a position further, those who claim ultimate authority on religious, ethical and political issues often are willing to use force and brutality to enforce their perspectives. It is best, therefore, to realize all perspectives are relative to time and place, and tolerance towards others will win the day. Second, liberals often uncritically accept the principles of an open ended notion of human identity, and assume liberty, individualism, conscience, choice, a progressive view of history, equality, critical thinking and historicism are the only right and proper foundation stones with which to build the house of solid and sane intellectual thought. This means, in translation and when decoded, each and all have the right to define identity and their quest as they see fit. Once these underlying presuppositions are understood, all the hot button issues in the culture wars, including religious pluralism, make perfect sense. Who has the right, on substantive issues, to say anything is right or wrong? All is a matter of taste and personal experience.
But, is it liberal of a liberal not to question liberalism? If a liberal cannot interrogate liberalism, root, trunk, branch and fruit, how is a liberal different from the conservatives and fundamentalists they so oppose? It is quite true that none have access to perfect, comprehensive and absolute insights and knowledge, but are all perspectives and positions equally valid? Are there such things as good, better and best on the continuum of insight, and, if so, are some traditions better and truer than others? We do need to make distinctions between the perfect and absolute we can never know, and levels of understanding such as good, better and best that we can know. We will return to this later.
I have mentioned that clusters of principles have their protectors and guardian class. The guardian class of the sacred principles is the Sanhedrin. All cultures have their untouchable ideas and prejudices, and our liberal culture has its sentinels that guard the Orthodox sanctuary and shrine from opposition and dissident groups. Who then are some of those members of the liberal Sanhedrin class in Canada?
The CBC in Canada, for the most part, tends to reflect the best elements of liberalism and yet embodies, uncritically, the core principles of liberalism. The annual CBC Massey lectures (begun in 1961) tend to reflect liberal attitudes on a variety of issues. The Massey lectures have covered a variety of topics, but two of them have dealt specifically with religion, religious diversity and Interfaith issues. The Faith of Other Men (1962), by Wilfred Cantwell Smith, true to the liberal orthodox interpretive grid argues that religions can be divided into ‘belief’ and ‘faith’ approaches. All of the major and minor religions of the world have a belief structure that identifies them and makes them unique. It is interesting to note that Smith takes no solid position on which belief structure might be deeper or truer than others. And, there is the personal faith of each person within and between belief systems.
Smith makes it clear that both ‘belief’ and ‘faith’ should not, at a sophisticated and substantive level, be evaluated or ranked. They are products of historic, communal and personal quests, and each should be honoured. Tolerance should be the order of the day. Nostalgia for the Absolute (1974), by George Steiner, probes the way history is replete with a hunger for the absolute in religion, politics and intellectual systems, but such a nostalgia for truth often betrays those who long for it. The final chapter, ‘Does the Truth Have a Future?’ raises a telling issue, and makes it clear that no clan has a monopoly on truth.
Charles Taylor and John Ralston Saul have also given the Massey lectures. Taylor, without much doubt, is one of the most important Canadian philosophers, and he stands at the summit of defending the best of the humanist Enlightenment project. He has synthesized the romantic and rationalists aspects of the humanist wing of the Enlightenment project, and he is very much a distinguished and much sought after member of the ruling Sanhedrin. John Ralston Saul, although not of the same depth or substance as Taylor, is also a defender of the liberal project.
The CBC Massey lectures represent an aspect of the liberal Sanhedrin class.
Universities also serve such an enculturation and socialization process. I have been interested in Religious Studies and studied and taught Religious Studies at universities for about 30 years. There are a variety of approaches in the Religious Studies discipline, but it is considered quite inappropriate to teach that any religious tradition is better than another. Each and all, at their best and noblest, speak to the human longing for meaning. Liberalism has, in short, undercut and deconstructed absolute truth claims of other religions and set itself up as the new pluralist absolute. The Sanhedrin class that defends this form of Orthodoxy can be found in the CBC and Religious Studies at universities.
It is fascinating to observe how the Sanhedrin class in the church often dutifully reflects the broader Orthodoxy of the liberal culture. I mentioned above the books by Bishops Michael Ingham and William Swing. Needless to say, such men have their followers and constituency, but such a position within the church merely echoes and reflects the broader interests of the ruling elite in the liberal Sanhedrin. This is why, of course, such men (and their positions) are so welcomed amongst a certain class. They say what needs to be said. We have with such a position and stance by leading churchman a form of Neo-Constantinianism. The interests of the liberal state and the church are one on substantive and core issues.
Liberalism is the reigning Orthodoxy of our age, and any Orthodoxy needs a Sanhedrin to act as guardians to defend it. It is ironic, though, that many liberals, given their commitment to critical thinking, often lack the ability to critique liberalism at root level. This should raise some troubling questions about blind spots at the core and centre of liberalism.
3. Mysticism and the Primordial Tradition
I have lingered longer than I should, perhaps, in the previous section, on the deeper interpretive and ideological grid of liberalism. I have done this for the simple reason that the unexamined principles that we think from will predetermine the conclusions we reach. Any thoughtful person needs to know both the appeal yet limitations of the ideology of their age. A truly open minded person knows how to think outside such a cave. It is strange to ponder the fact that liberalism speaks much about being open, tolerant and holding high diversity, yet most liberals are not open, tolerant or willing to seriously engage those who question the premises of liberalism.
There is, as I mentioned above, a keen interest in mysticism, spirituality and the contemplative these days, but such an interest, desire, hunger and longing is set within a pluralist context. There has been, in the last few decades, an interesting and growing approach to making sense of religious diversity and pluralism. The Primordial Tradition has played its role well in this unfolding tale.
The Primordial Tradition, initiated by such thinkers as Rene Guenon, Frithjof Schuon, Ananda Coomaraswamy, Martin Lings and Seyyed Hossein Nasr and popularized by men like Huston Smith and Jacob Needleman is working its wonders. Nasr gave the prestigious Gifford lectures in 1981, and they were published as Knowledge & the Sacred. What is the argument of the Primordial Tradition, and how does this Tradition fit into the liberal tradition yet differ with it?
The Primordial Tradition argues that the religions of the world have both exoteric and esoteric dimensions. At the exoteric level, each religion is a specific and unique revelation of the Divine in time to a people. Such revelations, traditions and perspectives are valid and insightful, but none reflect the deeper truths of the Divine. Each of the traditions, as revelations,should be honoured, but such traditions are merely partial and relative reflections of the Divine. None are absolute or final, but each and all should be respected. Each person of good faith should belong to a revealed tradition, but the real spiritual pilgrim should realize there is more to religion than the exoteric elements of it. There are, in short, the esoteric and mystical aspects to religions also, and it is at the esoteric level, we reach the core and true centre of all religions. Exoteric religion leads to diversity and divisiveness, but the esoteric approach points the way to unity and oneness.
This approach to spirituality and religion makes three important moves. First, sacred knowledge and religion is welcomed and honoured. It is deeper and higher than science. It is, in fact, a sacred science of the soul. Second, religions should be embraced, in a pluralistic manner, as rays and branches of eternal truth. Religions, at an exoteric level, are necessary as steps along the journey. Third, mystics walk us to the core, purpose and centre of the spiritual quest. It is at such an esoteric level that the Jewish Kabbalistic, Christian mystic, Islamic Sufi, Hindu Vendantic, Buddhist wisdom-enlightenment tradition, Taoist contemplative and 1st Nations spiritual traditions converge and are one. It is at such a place that Moses, Jesus, Mohammed, Khrishna, Siddharta, Guru Nanak, Lao Tzu and many others join warm and affection hands in the unity and fellowship of one and all. They are, in their different yet equally valid ways, physicians of the soul. Just as no physician that is trained well is, in principle, better than any other, so none of the spiritual founders and physicians of the soul are any wiser or more enlightened than others.
We do need to ask, though, about the validity and limitations of the appeal of the Primordial Tradition. Do all the founders and mystics of each tradition agree on what they have seen and sighted? And, are those stuck at an exoteric level weaker in their perception of such elevated truth? How is the exoteric-esoteric distinction different from the belief-faith distinction of William Cantwell Smith? Have these distinctions led us on a worrisome rabbit’s trail and cul de sac?
I have studied the mystical traditions in Christianity and many of the major and minor religions of the world for many years, and I must admit, I find substantive disagreements amongst the mystics both within Christianity and within and between other religions. Mystics do not always agree about what they have seen, found and experienced. In fact, interpretations by mystics are as diverse as religions at the exoteric level. Only by bending and distorting the evidence can such a sophisticated syncretism win the day.
The point to be noted here is that the nostalgia for the absolute in the Primordial Tradition offers a critique of liberal pluralism, but does so at a deeper mystical level. The absolutism of pluralism and diversity is replaced by the absolutism of the mystics. In fact, a book on the Primordial Tradition is called The Only Tradition (1997). Are there other approaches to Christianity and other religions that walk us beyond the dominance and lordship of liberal pluralist orthodoxy or a form of mystical unity that is not true to the actual evidence of the contemplative traditions of the world? The rest of the paper will ponder such a position.
4. Biblical-Patristic Christianity and General Revelation
It is essential to realize that Christianity emerged on the stage of history at a time when pluralism and syncretism were the order of the day. Christianity grew and matured in the Late Antique ethos at a time when many religions and philosophic positions flourished and offered answers to hungry hearts and longing minds. We can, therefore, learn much from both the Biblical and Patristic phase of Christianity about how to think through the meaning of faith and other religions from those who have gone before. We are told, and rightly so, that we live in a post-Christian world. This should not unduly worry us. Christianity emerged in a pre-Christian world, and as the age of Christendom has passed, the post and pre Christian world, for Christians, have much in common.
There tends to be, in the main, two ways in which Christians have dealt with other cultures, religious traditions and philosophical positions. Tertullian, an early church father, once asked, in a rhetorical way, this perennial question: ‘What has Athens to do with Jerusalem? What has the Academy to do with the Church?” Much hinges, of course, on how such a question is answered, and the answering of such a question has much to do with the classical grace-nature tension. Are human longing and desires, in their natural state, good, bad, mediocre or a blend of all three? This really is the issue of general or common revelation. There are those who push the total depravity and original sin position to such an extreme that little or no good can be found, sighted or seen in our natural state. There are others who argue that the human soul and civilizations are a subtle blend of good, evil and much between these extremes. Then, there are those who only see the good and ignore the dark and destructive aspects of cultures and human nature. The middle position between a negative view of human nature and a more positive view of the human condition is where the truth lies.
The Bible and the Patristic tradition tend to hike this middle path and route, although there is evidence, in places, of both the optimistic and negative attitude towards human nature. If, though, we accept the reality that human nature, culture and civilizations are a blend of wheat and chaff, gold and dross, we can see why and how, when Christianity encounters other peoples and cultures, it is quite possible to see good in them, and, in many natural longings and desires, God very much at work. This notion of common revelation or natural theology has much to commend it, and it opens a way for Christians to engage those of other religious, political and philosophical traditions in a more positive way.
Most of the Fathers of the Latin West and Greek East were well trained and schooled in the best insights of Plato and Aristotle, Greek myth and literature, Roman culture and civilization. And, more to the point, they saw much wisdom, depth and validity in the writings and lives of many of their peers and those who had gone before them. They also had the discernment to see the limitations of these great writers and the worldviews that they inhabited. In short, the Fathers of the Greek East and Latin West thought common revelation and natural theology, at its best and most illuminating, offered a necessary but not sufficient understanding of wisdom and truth. Christ, in all his grandeur, goodness and grace crowned and fulfilled, brought to fruition and answered the deepest longing of nature. Grace, in all its divine fullness, in Christ, came to raise human nature to yet a higher level. Christ became man, to paraphrase Athanasius, so that man might become godlike. This is a high view of the atonement and at the heart of the lure and appeal of the Christian vision of the new life.
The Grace crowning Nature model that was so well articulated and understood in the Bible and the Fathers of the church can offer us much aid and insight as we approach the relationship between Christianity and the symphony of living faiths. There are two 20th century Christians I’d like to sit with for a few moments to ponder how they lived such tensions out: Thomas Merton and George Grant.
Thomas Merton (1915-1968) was, probably, one of the most important Roman Catholics of the 20th century. Merton called the church back to her contemplative tradition. He was faithful yet critical of the church, broadly ecumenical and passionate about issues of justice and injustice, war and peace, wealth and poverty. In the final decade of his life, Merton began, in a more intense and committed way, to ponder the meaning of the contemplative and meditative traditions in the East. He turned to the Zen Buddhism of D.T. Suzuki, the Tibetan Buddhism of the Dalai Lama, the Vietnamese Buddhism of Thich Nhat Hanh, the Taoism of Lao Tzu and Chaung Tzu and the eclectic Hinduism of Gandhi. Did this mean that Merton thought these traditions were equal to the depth of the Christian tradition? Or was Merton merely, in a predictable Patristic manner, seeing much good in the natural longings and desires of other religious traditions? When day was done, though, Merton did rest his longing soul and unite his deepest desire with Christ and the one, holy, catholic and apostolic church. The contemplative theology of Merton very much stood within the time tried Patristic and Christian position of Grace fulfilling Nature.
George Grant (1918-1988) was a contemporary of Merton, and, I suspect, in time he will come to be seen as the most important Canadian Anglican of the 20th century. The University of Toronto Press is publishing the Collected Works of George Grant in 8 Volumes, and each volume has much in it. Grant was drawn to Simone Weil, and both Weil and Grant saw Plato as a profound thinker of justice, wisdom and truth. Weil, like Grant, thought that just as the revelatory Jewish tradition prepared the way for Christ, so the reflective, literary and philosophical tradition of Aeschylus, Sophocles, Homer, Hesiod, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle and Cicero and Seneca prepared the Greeks and Romans for Christ. This was, once again, a Grace crowning Nature tradition. Grant wrote and lectured much about Plato, he brought into being one of the largest graduate programs in North America in Religious Studies, and he thought deeply about the relationship between Christ and Socrates, Christianity and Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism and Taoism.
Grant was a student of C.S. Lewis in Oxford, and he was quite active in Lewis’ Socratic Club. Sheila Grant (Grant’s wife) once told me that The Abolition of Man, by Lewis, was a most important book for Grant in his Oxford days. The Abolition of Man ends with an ‘Appendix-Illustrations of the Tao’. The ‘Appendix’ highlighted how, in most of the major and minor religions of the world, there is a common ethical position. This, for Lewis, and Grant, reflects general revelation.
The question, then, of good, better and best does raise its head in the perennial issue of common revelation. Those who stand within such a tradition are quite willing to accept the fact that there is much good in many religious traditions, and some of the nobler traditions reflect a better and higher vision than the good that is in much. But, in Christ, the best is revealed and shines forth in time. This revelatory reality does not exhaust the grand mystery of God’s inscrutable Love and Perfection, Being and Substance, but in the Incarnation the best of the Divine Mystery has been made known to us. It is also important to note that, many times, the good, better, best model does not work. There is often a clash at the very core of traditions that cannot be reconciled or seen as higher or lower versions of the Truth.
There are those who would suggest that the Grace fulfilling Nature model of Christianity is just a subtle form of religious paternalism and exclusivism, hence to be avoided in the name of pluralism and syncretism. It should be pointed out that pluralism and syncretism are also exclusive models that negate or subordinate to a lesser or lower level of truth that which does not fit into their worldview. I will, for a few moments, ponder the reality of this often ignored fact.
5. Religious Exclusivism: Is it only a Christian Problem?
There has, in the last few decades, been many a debate about models of religious reality and interfaith dialogue. Each and all walk the extra mile to avoid the heated religious debates of the past that have led to wars, sadness and many tragedies. If passionate religious commitment leads to wars and intolerance, perhaps, so the argument goes, it is better to realize no religious tradition can claim final authority on ultimate issues. When each and all realize each tradition is relative to time and place, wars will cease, tolerance will reign and the symphony of living faiths will produce a new Messiah that will bring the peoples of the earth together as one.
I will be teaching, in the winter semester of 2007, a 3rd year course, ‘The Buddhist Tradition’. It is essential to realize that the Buddhist Tradition emerged because of core differences with the Hindu Tradition. The Orthodox Hindu Tradition had traditions within it, but the perspectives within such traditions excluded other traditions that differed at the core and centre. The four heterodox Indian traditions (Buddhism, Jainism, Charvaka and Tantra) found little place or home in Hinduism. The Hindu Tradition has been known as a tradition of immense diversity, tolerance and openness, and yet the Indian heterodox traditions were excluded. Buddhism, at core and centre, differs with Hinduism, hence different religions. This does not mean, of course, there are not points of convergence and concord between Hinduism and Buddhism, but it is their deeper and essential differences that separate them. There are even immense tensions within Buddhism between the earlier Theravada tradition and the later Mahayana traditions. This does not mean there are not points of similarity, but it is in the points of essential difference that separation occurs. In short, Buddhism began because the Orthodox Hindu tradition excluded the insights of Siddhartha, and the wisdom tradition of Buddha excluded the core elements of Hinduism. The deeper philosophical traditions of the Hindu Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gita do take the honest and searching pilgrim to different places than the Heart Sutra or Diamond Sutra of Buddhism. And, these traditions are not merely different but equal versions of Ultimate reality. Hinduism and Buddhism differ, at core level, about their understanding of the human condition and reality. Even within Hinduism and Buddhism, there are arguments about what it is a higher and lower understanding of Truth.
Is exclusivism, therefore, only a Christian problem? I could hike further down the Oriental trail and highlight how traditions in the East exclude one another, but the point has been made. Judaism excluded and differed with the early Christian understanding of who Jesus is, and Islam accepts Christ but only as a prophet. Christians differ both with Jews and Muslims on their understanding of Christ. Muslims think the revelations of Mohammed fulfill the longings of Judaism and Christianity, and such a view of revelatory insight excludes the unique and indigenous Jewish and Christian understanding of Judaism and the Christianity.
The notion that there is a form of inclusivism that can thread all religions together can only come into being by excluding the deeper and core revelatory insights of religions that are being superficially synthesized. The Bahai tradition, for example, claims to be a revelatory tradition that brings all the significant religions of the world into a harmonious unity. The problem with such a synthesis is that it distorts and disfigures the core of each of the religions it seeks to include or synthesize. It is best and more honest to admit, up front, that all religions at the core differ on their basic understanding of Reality. This does not mean, of course, there are not points of concord and convergence, but such points of meeting are around the edges. It is at the centre that discord and divergence occurs, hence different religions. It is simply naïve, dishonest and shortsighted to think the major or minor religions of the world, at a mystical or theological world, are saying the same thing or are merely relative and positions. Such a perspective becomes its own absolute and paternalistic.
The contemporary liberal notion of pluralism excludes other ethical, political, religious and philosophical positions from taking positions of higher truth insights, and pluralism claims to be the higher truth. Although models of inclusivism, exclusivism, pluralism and syncretism have often been set side by side with one another as different approaches to truth, each and all, when day are done, become exclusive. This is why it is better to recognize at the outset that, when each model is pushed to its end, it excludes other models. Once this reality is recognized, the deeper questions of core claims about reality, and their meaning for the human journey, can seriously begin.
6. The Last Battle
Are the Jewish prophets (oral, major, minor) and Mohammed at one? Was Krishna and Mohammed saying the same thing? Was Buddha’s analysis of human nature the same as Guru Nanak and Guru Gobind Singh? Were Kabir and Tagore reaching for the same centre as many of the Upanishads? Are the Avatars of India the same as the Christian Incarnation? Is the Buddhist notion of the compassionate Bodhisattvas on par with Jewish prophets? How is the Hindu notion of ‘atman’, the Buddhist notion of ‘anatman’ similar and different and how are both different from the Jewish-Christian notion of ‘imago Dei’ and the Classical notion of ‘physis?’ The questions could go on and on, and they must if a serious discussion of Christianity and the idea of a symphony of faiths is to be unraveled and unpacked with some integrity.
C.S. Lewis ended his mythopoetic epic, Chronicles of Narnia, with The Last Battle. The final battle, for Lewis, came down to a clash between Aslan, the great Lion that could not be tamed and was wild, and his counterfeit, Tash. Tash, a donkey dressed like a lion, looked like a lion from a distance. Those who knew Aslan were quite aware that the behavior of Tash was quite different from Aslan, but they were confused by the appearance. Tash seemed, from a distance, to resemble Aslan. The key here, of course, is from a distance.
The Last Battle can speak much to the issue of Christianity and the symphony of living faiths. Our understanding of Christ determines much. A great deal of interfaith dialogue only sees Christ from a distance, hence Tash and Aslan seem one. The dilemma we face when studying religious traditions as observers or even participant observers is that we still participate and observe from a distance. Much can seem the same when we perceive from such a place. Tash and Aslan appear not to be all that different. The closer we come to the centre and source, though, the more we touch the details of the life of the Jewish prophets, Jesus, Mohammed, Krishna, Sankara and Ramanuja, Confucious and Lao Tzu, the more we cannot help but realize that the founders of these religions are different and distinct, and they are not the same. Aslan, in short, when one encounters the great Lion, cannot be confused with the various forms Tash might take. The last and final battle, in many ways, is the battle to discern Aslan from the many counterfeits of Aslan, and this can only be done by drawing ever closer and closer to the lion of the tribe of Judah and feeling the breath of such a Lion on our skin, soul and spirit. The further and more detached the approach to the question, the more Tash and Aslan can become confused and equated. Lewis, in The Last Battle, saw this all so clearly, and we do well to heed Lewis’ insights on this ultimate question.
7. Christ, Neo-Constantinianism and the Culture Wars
It is one thing to ponder and reflect upon the nature of Christ and the founders of other religions, textual comparisons between religions and the complex unfolding of many of the major and minor religions of the world. But, we also need to ponder the meaning and significance of the ethical and political teaching of Christ in the world today. Faith must be public, and the public face of Christianity must deal with the hot button issues in the liberal culture wars.
There is little doubt we live in the midst of intense ideological wars. Ethical issues divide clans and tribes in the culture wars. The political right tends to hold high such issues as traditional family values, pro-life, anti-gay, market economy, lighter state, pro-military and pro-American foreign policy, retributive justice and often the death penalty. The political left tends to be pro-choice, pro-gay, keen on alternate family values, more for taxes and a stronger state, suspicious of capitalism, more for restorative and rehabilitative justice, doubters of the American empire, and they show a special concern for the environment and structural poverty. The laundry list of social, ethical, economic, political and military issues could go ever on. We need to ask ourselves this simple question: would Christ dutifully salute at the flagpole of the ideological right, left or sensible centre? Or, there is a Christian ethical vision that can transcend the tribalism of the left, right and centre? It is an intellectual and critical imperative that all ideologies be interrogated; if this is not done, we create idols that serve tribal interests but not the Kingdom of God. There is good in the right, left and centre, but there are tragic inconsistencies in all three positions, and these do need to be faced and not flinched from.
Those who barter, truck and trade in the different sides of the ideological coin tend to reflect a form of Constantinianism, and the Neo-Constantinian bow and gaze can either be republican or democrat, conservative or liberal. Would Jesus be critical of the strange ideological and ethical gods of our age? I think so.
We do need, therefore, to realize that Constantinianism can take different forms and guises. Liberal Orthodoxy, backed by the state and many public institutions, tends to relativize the truth claims of many of the major religions of the world. Constantinian pluralism has taken captive many in our liberal society including many well meaning Christians. The other form of Constantinianism can be found in the politics of the left and right. When Christians uncritically bow to the politics, in Canada, of the NDP, Liberals or Conservative, Caesar and Constantine become their new Lord and Master. What would Jesus think of the way many Christians have been taken captive, in the public square, by ideologues that shrink the fullness and higher Christian vision of the public good?
8. Summary
We live in a global village in which religions of the world mix and mingle. Should Christians find their dutiful place in the symphony of living faiths or raise some questions about such a worrisome analogy? Orthodox liberalism has dethroned the larger Truth claims of the religions of the world, and set its pluralist agenda on the throne. And yet, is it liberal of liberals not to question liberalism? Many of the larger epic versions of the past have been deconstructed? Is it not time, though, to deconstruct deconstructionism? If this is not done, at root and trunk level, the fruit that emerges from the branches will lack a lushness, healing quality and evocative charm and beauty.
All religious, philosophical and political positions do, eventually, in crude, obvious or subtle ways, exclude one another. The task, then, is to discern which eternal feast is the finest and turn to it for the banquet that becomes finer and better from moment to moment. It is as we live in Christ and the one, holy, catholic and apostolic church, we will truly find ourselves and live forth the meaning of being fully human. Such a calling forth, when rightly understood, will raise the issue of which form of faith is the best and why, and, as Christians, such an answer can only come in the meeting with Aslan himself. It is in such a meeting that we will feel the strong wind at our backs, see the canopy above in a richer blue and know the light and warmth of day star in all its inviting fullness.
Ron Dart has taught in the Department of political science, philosophy and religious studies at University College of the Fraser Valley (Abbotsford, BC) since 1990. Ron was on the staff of Amnesty International in the 1980s before he took the positions at University College.
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