Archive for the 'religious pluralism' Category

Going beyond words

One of my daughter’s favorite movies is The Incredibles. Since I work at home and watch her most of the time, it’s very convenient that I, too, enjoy this movie because we watch it over and over and over. I’ve started paying attention to some of the dialog and there are some very good lines. One is when Helen Parr, aka Elastigirl, visits Edna to see the new supersuits she made. Helen is unaware of everything which precipitated Edna’s making the suits and so is totally lost as Edna starts talking about them. Edna then says:

Yes, words are useless! Gobble gobble gobble gobble gobble. Too much of it, darling. Too much. That is why I show you my work. That is why you are here.

Thomas Merton, talks about the same thing in Echoing Silence:

True communication on the deepest level is more than a simple sharing of ideas, of conceptual knowledge, or formulated truth. The kind of communication that is necessary on this deep level must also be “communion” beyond the level of words, a communion in authentic experience which is shared not only on a “preverbal” level but also on a “post-verbal” level.

The “preverbal” level is that of the unspoken and indefinable “preparation,” “the predisposition” of the mind and heart, necessary for all “monastic” experience whatever.

Now, perhaps I’m stretching the point, but I would consider some religious experiences — the Eucharist, for example — to be “monastic” experiences since these are reflective, contemplative, personal, yet shared and participatory. Merton continues (with emphasis added):

This demands among other things a “freedom from automatisms and routines,” and candid liberation from external social dictates, from conventions, limitations, and mechanisms which restrict understanding and inhibit experience of the new, the unexpected. The monk who is to communicate on the level that interests us here must be not merely a punctilious observer of external traditions, but a living example of traditional and interior realization. He must be wide open to life and to new experience because he has fully utilized his own tradition and gone beyond it. This will permit him to meet a [disciple] of another, apparently remote and alien tradition, and find a common ground of verbal understanding with him. The “post-verbal” level will then, at least ideally, be that on which they both meet beyond their own words and their own understanding in the silence of an ultimate experience which might conceivably not have occurred if they had not met and spoken. This I would call “communion.” I think it is something that the deepest ground of our being cries out for, and it is something for which a lifetime of striving would not be enough.

Language is limiting. Language is controlling. Edna was unable to describe to Helen the experience and wonder of making the supersuits because there was no common ground of understanding. Helen might as well have been talking a different language altogether. Her biases and assumptions did not allow her to understand. It didn’t fit into her mental model of the world. But that does not mean that Edna’s experiences were invalid or wrong or false. There was no language that could bridge the two world-views. But the experience itself could.

And this is exactly where the trouble lies in religions. Looking at the words, it may seem, for example, Islam and Christianity are mutually exclusive. And so we use these incompatible words as dividers between the two. We demand that they say the right words about their experiences of their God. That they describe their God with just the right adjectives — the same adjectives that we use to describe our God: “God cannot be God unless God is a Triune God, eternally existing in three persons …” Only then, is their experience of their God “correct.” Furthermore, if they don’t use the correct verbiage then they are heretics and eternally damned and sometimes worse.

But let’s take the very trite example of two people witnessing an event taking place in this physical world. You will get different stories, different explanations, different emphasis. In short, incompatible, mutually exclusive words. In fact, this very idea is often used to defend the Gospels. Just look at the resurrection story and see how many “different” accounts there are and how these “different” accounts for merged.

So, if we cannot agree on the words to describe an event in this physical world, how much less can we agree on the words to describe the ineffable, numinous experience of God?? And how can we hold others at fault for using their own words which make sense to them but not us? The key is to go beyond our own traditions and meet in non-verbal communion.

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Just a thought … on God as author

Getting back to an old post of mine, let’s assume:

  1. The Bible is exactly as God wanted it to be
  2. God is omniscient
  3. God had/has perfect foreknowledge

What does this mean?

I think it’s an obvious fact that there are many, many different interpretations of the Bible. Whether you think any particular interpretation is right or wrong does not change the fact that it exists and someone believes it. But God, in his perfect foreknowledge and omniscience must have known that each interpretation that exists would exist. God knew that we’d be confused. And yet the Bible is exactly as he wanted it to be. Now, I’m not talking about a few fringe ideas that go against an overwhelming consensus. If you’re reading, say, The Scarlett Letter in every high school (which still reads this book) I would guess that there would be a lot of agreement on meaning and interpretation with, perhaps, a few radical ideas. Not so with the Bible!

God may be just but he doesn’t seem quite fair. He gives us this book, knowing that some of us will interpret it differently and then (according to some) punishes us when we do. Kinda like the ol’ apple in the garden, heh? Isn’t that entrapment?

So, God must have had a purpose for the ambiguity, the confusion causing verbiage. Was it to test us? Was it to weed out some of us? What possible reason could there be? Furthermore, how can any of us even pretend to have the “right” answer? So many options, so many ideas, so many opinions and the one that appeals to me just happens to be the one and only correct interpretation?

But, hey … just a thought.

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Maybe Jesus is the finger, not the moon

“Don’t think. Feel. It is like a finger pointing away to the moon. Do not concentrate on the finger or you will miss all that heavenly glory.”

That was Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon. He was echoing the well-known Zen analogy that all instruction (doctrine?) is like a finger pointing at the moon. It should not be confused with the moon itself.

Jesus, the man — the human side of Jesus — did a lot of pointing in his day. But a lot of people back then and after him and today are too busy staring at his finger to see what he was pointing to. They see him pointing at his literal life, his literal work, his literal death, his literal resurrection. But those are all the finger!

The moon was Jesus’ other side — his non-human side. The side that is identified with God. The perfect, immortal, numinous side that is in us all — and has been in us all from the very beginning.

Jesus said, “I am the way,” but that “I” was not Jesus, son of Joseph, prophet, leader, healer, etc. When I say, “I love you,” to my wife and daughter, that “I” has absolutely nothing to do with what I am or what I do or what I look like. That “I” is the “I” that is my real essence. It’s the unseen part of me that, if I were to die right now, would remain and still love as much as it does now.

The next part of Lee’s quote is even better. “… or you will miss all that heavenly glory.” If you stare at the finger, you miss the heavenly glory. Now, just imagine what you are missing by staring too hard at the external, literal Jesus! If Jesus is pointing us to God, to glory, and we only look at him and do not follow his pointing to see God, we are missing out on a lot!

As proof of this, compare the writings of any mystical Christian to any dogmatic, literalist, fundamentalist Christian. There is a world of difference. The mystic sees things so far above and beyond and below. They are following the pointing finger of Jesus and truly seeing God.

To go even further, pointing is far from an exact science. When you point, you often have to qualify with words what you are pointing at or the other person misses the point, so to speak. I think there are Christians who do follow Jesus’ finger and look at the “moon.” But some of them then become fixated on “the moon” and become dogmatic that it was “the moon” Jesus pointed to.

Someone else comes along and, looking up to follow Jesus’ pointing finger, sees a star. But looking more intently, they begin to make out the breathtaking Crab Nebula. Another looks up and initially sees a few tiny stars but, looking more intently, sees the Pleiades. They are both taking in the wonders of God and the glories of the heavens when the “moon Christian” starts berating them for missing the whole point and being heretics and idolaters because clearly Jesus was pointing at the moon and at only the moon.

I’ve said this before on this blog: I think that a literalistic view of Jesus as The Way robs you of the true glories and wonders that are available to you. Putting Jesus and God “out there,” perhaps touchable but distinct from yourself, is to miss your Self. Jesus was not pointing to God by holding his arm in the air. He was pointing to God by pointing at himself — his essence of which we all are a part. He was pointing inside at the God inside us all. He was pointing inside you.

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Relative nearness to God

I think it only natural that each of us thinks our own “way to God” is the best. I doubt anyone would travel a path which they felt inferior to another one available to them. But we fall into hubris when we begin thinking that “our way” is categorically the best or only way to God. Thomas Merton put it this way in a letter to Philip Griggs:

You ask about the relative nearness to God of a fervent Sadhu and a superficial Christian. The Church’s teaching on nearness to God is that he who loves God better, knows Him better, and is more perfectly obedient to His will, is closer to Him than others who may love, know and obey Him less well. Since it is to me perfectly obvious that a Sadhu might well know God better and love Him better than a lukewarm Christian, I see no problem whatever about declaring that such a one is closer to Him and is even, by that fact, closer to Christ. The distinction lies in the fact that Catholics believe that the Church does possess a clearer and more perfect exoteric doctrine and sacramental system which “objectively” ought to be more secure and reliable a means for men to come to God and save their souls. Obviously this cannot be argued and scientifically proved, I simply state it as part of our belief in the Church. But the fact remains that God is not bound to confine His gifts to the framework of these external means, and in the end we are sanctified not merely by the instrumentality of doctrines and sacraments but by the Holy Spirit. And I repeat my conviction as a Catholic that the Holy Spirit may perfectly well be more active in the heart of a Hindu monk than in my own. I am prepared to recognize this in anyone I meet who seems to be genuinely holy and I am quite often struck by what seem to me to be signs of such holiness in people who have nothing to do with the Catholic Church.

from The Hidden Ground of Love: Letters on Religious Experience and Social
emphasis mine

The “tricky” part is seeing the genuine holiness in others. It takes an openness on our part that is difficult to achieve. Especially when we are so caught up in external things — names, affiliations, titles, creeds, dogma.

For those of you who have not heard of Thomas Merton, the following is the introduction on wikipedia:

Thomas Merton (January 31, 1915 – December 10, 1968) was one of the most influential Catholic authors of the 20th century. A Trappist monk of the Abbey of Our Lady of Gethsemani, in the American state of Kentucky, Merton was an acclaimed Catholic spiritual writer, poet, author and social activist. Merton wrote over 60 books, scores of essays and reviews, and is the ongoing subject of many biographies. Merton was also a proponent of interreligious dialogue, engaging in spiritual dialogues with such icons as the Dalai Lama, Thich Nhat Hanh and D.T. Suzuki. His career was suddenly cut short at a relatively young age due to an accident when he was electrocuted stepping out of his bath.

I’ve just found some of his letters to D.T. Suzuki in the book from which I quote above and based on comments in those, I’ve ordered six books and will be ordering two more (from “local” bookstores via abebooks.com and from a real local bookstore here in KC). They are truly fantastic letters with so many wonderful ideas about Christianity. I highly recommend them to everyone.

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I am THE Way, yada yada yada

Jesus didn’t say, “I am a Way, a Truth, a Life,” did He? Therefore, Jesus is the ONLY way to God.

Have you heard that one before?

But what if Jesus was not talking about himself as a person or as a god/man. What if he was talking about what he represents?

For example, when J.F.K. gave his immortal speech in which he said, “Ich bin ein Berliner,” was he talking about J.F.K. and only J.F.K.? No way! (I just love unintentional rhymes, don’t you?) He was using himself to represent everyone in the United States, if not the world. This is classic synecdoche. (Which, by the way, is not a city in New York. Lost a ten-spot on that bet!)

Why could Jesus not have been employing synecdoche? Yes, Jesus is THE Way, THE Truth, and THE Life. But it’s not the “THE” that’s the issue here. It’s the “I”. Jesus was singling out himself as an example because that was the only example anyone he was talking to could understand. But if you put Jesus into a larger class with Buddha, Brahman, Atman, etc., then Jesus was referring to all of them as being THE Way, yada yada yada.

“Whoa!” you shout. “Buddha was a MAN and Jesus was GOD! How can they both represent the same thing?”

Well, when Buddha became enlightened, he became one with God. Just like when a person “accepts Jesus Christ into his heart,” that person becomes a child of God and is indwelt with the Holy Spirit (i.e. God).

And if you accept my premise, it makes perfect sense!

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Beliefs that Work

Why do we believe what we believe? I think that it’s because the beliefs we choose to believe are the ones that “work” for us. That is, there is something about the belief that attracts us. The belief makes “sense” to us. The promised results of believing are manifested. This is also the exact way that I word my main reason for leaving the Fundamentalist Christianity in which I was raised from the womb: it just didn’t “work” for me.

Christianity does work for some people — my parents, for example. They see God’s hand everywhere and feel God’s presence. They live “by the grace of God” through all their physical problems. They are not disillusioned by God’s “testing” them with yet another difficulty. And many people are converted to Christianity because it just makes sense — people like Lee Strobel and Ravi Zacharias. It just plain works for them. And that’s great. More power to them. But just because it works for you doesn’t mean that it will work for me no matter how hard I try.

I have seasonal allergies. I’ve had them my whole life and everywhere I’ve lived. Some years it’s not too bad and other years it is bad. Sometimes the only thing that gets me through is to overdose on allergy medicine, crank the AC to arctic conditions, sit down with my head tilted slightly back and go to sleep. When I’m in this condition, the worst thing possible is to be around someone who does not have any allergies. They just don’t understand what I’m feeling and can’t believe that all I want to do is sleep all day and all they want to do is go outside and do something. They just can’t sympathize or empathize. That’s how it is with Christians for whom Christianity really works. “If it works for me then it’ll work for anyone” … “You just have to hang in there” … “You can’t blame God or the church or your family” “God will see you through” … and on and on.

This is one reason I don’t think that Christianity can be the one and only true religion. It is unrealistic to force every person from every culture to believe the exact same thing and have those beliefs be alive and meaningful. Why do you think there are different cultures to begin with? The anti-pluralist Christians who say that everyone must be a Christian (and especially their flavor Christian) are a lot like Captain James T. Kirk who zooms around the universe telling everyone he meets that their brand of society and government is wrong and they need to be a democracy — just like his society. Democracy just doesn’t work for everyone the same way. And neither does religion.

For proof, I show you ol’ J.C. himself. Now many Christians will say that Jesus did not break from Judaism but only fulfilled the Old Testament and the prophecies. But it seems pretty clear to me that the Old Testament concept of God was not “working” for the Jews anymore. The Old Testament concept of God was not helping them cope with their current situation with the Romans. They needed something different. And that’s exactly what Jesus brought them. A new concept of God — the same God, so to speak, but a different way of approaching him and a different way of worshiping him. Something new that “worked” for them. So, if Jesus brought something new to a people for whom the old religions were not working, then how can you possibly think that 2000 years later the same Christianity should be expected to work for us?

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… Rationalize, Perjurize, and Anathemize

This is the second in a series of posts that began here. When we last left our intrepid Christian — defender of the one, true Jesus — she was not sleeping too well because of the constant, nagging fear that she should be doing more to spread the name of Jesus throughout the world. How else would poor, hopeless souls find their way to Heaven and avoid the eternal torment of Hell? And how could her God, a God of love, send so many to Hell just because they were born at the wrong time and in the wrong place? Shouldn’t there be some way for them to change their destiny?

Then she went to church and her faith in her God was restored because of what she heard. For her pastor was preaching from Romans 1:18-21

For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, because that which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them. For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse. For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened.

Whew! Our intrepid Christian sighs a great sigh of relief. All is well with her faith in her all-loving God. For, as her pastor so eloquently relays to her, God has nothing to do with all those souls going to Hell. It seems that they have known about Him the whole time and have made a conscious decision to reject Him. So, of course, they deserve the eternal damnation they are about to receive.

Paul tells us that both God and the Christian are absolved of all responsibility for anyone going to Hell because, from the beginning, God’s “invisible attributes … have been clearly seen.” Well, that makes sense, doesn’t it? Invisible attributes … clearly seen … how could I have been so blind? Through nature, i.e. “what has been made”, God has made Himself evident to everyone and “they know God” but do “not honor Him as God.” So, everyone — no matter when or where they were born — can know God and know Him as God.

Well, this does seem evident to me. Afterall, how many cultures have gods derived from nature? There are sun gods, moon goddesses, gods of the harvest, gods of war, goddesses of fertility, gods of wine. After all, religion is one of the things that make us humans human, right?

One problem is that, in practice, this really doesn’t work out the way Paul says it can. When was the last time you heard a missionary speak at your church’s annual Missionary Convention (you have one of those, right?) and give the following report:

“We bushwacked through the jungle into the remotest part of the country, to a place where no outsider had ever been, and stumbled upon a small tribe of natives who were holding a baptism service in which they were baptizing ‘in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit’. They then recited the Lord’s Prayer, said the Apostle’s Creed, and held an alter call for the neighboring tribes after which the pastor started hut-to-hut visitation to minister to the shut-ins.”

This may sound silly, but think about what it would take for someone you didn’t know anything about to convince you that their religion was the same as your religion. And let’s say that they didn’t go to church or have a copy of The Bible? Without those two things, would it even be remotely possible?

The second problem we saw in the previous post. Just believing in God is apparently not enough. You have to get from God to Jesus. And not just any Jesus but The Jesus of The Bible. This part is not mentioned here by Paul. They could have a virgin-born-son-of-a-god miracle-working tree-crucified rose-from-the-dead god-man and it still wouldn’t be close enough to The Bible’s Jesus to get them into Heaven.

Furthermore, this is being written by a man who spoke directly to Jesus and not from a man who actually found the “right” God from nature. In fact, I know of no one mentioned in the Bible — Old or New Testaments — who found God from nature. Everyone either spoke directly to God/Jesus or heard about God/Jesus from someone else. Please correct me if I’m wrong, here.

So, all this “God is evident from nature” is either a rationalization to make us feel better about God and about ourselves for not “getting out there” more or it is a flat out lie. Either way, it allows us to anathemize the “poor souls” so their ending up in Hell doesn’t seem quite so bad. Plus, we can all sleep better at night, feeling safe and secure in the loving arms of our loving God and knowing that those in Hell have no one to blame but themselves.

But wait … and stay tuned

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Know MY Jesus or No Jesus

What does it take to get to Heaven? According to many Christians, all you have to do is believe:

  1. Jesus was the Son of God
  2. Jesus was born of a virgin
  3. Jesus was crucified for our sins
  4. Jesus rose from the dead
  5. Jesus will come to earth a second time

Sounds simple enough. But the entire thing depends on believing certain facts about a certain historical person. You can’t get by on believing in a god — or even in The God — alone. You must believe in Jesus and you must believe the above five things about Him.

May still sound simple to those of you reading this, but project yourself back to the year 1000 in what is now called Florida. Or to anywhere in Australia before the first Europeans arrived in the 1700’s. Or to certain parts of Africa or Asia today that are not “on the beaten path.” How could you possibly come up with all those facts about a person who lived long before you in a place you probably never dreamed existed? But if you didn’t believe, you were doomed to Hell. At least you’d have lots and lots of company — just think about how many billions of people throughout history have lived outside the “circle of influence,” that is, outside the regions where news of Jesus had spread.

But, surely, there’s a way around this, right? Surely, all these people are not damned for all eternity simply because they were born in the wrong place and at the wrong time? Surely it must be possible to intuit Jesus as the Son of God, intuit His virgin birth and death and resurrection, and intuit His second coming, right? No one really needs to hear all this from somebody else, does one?

Well, it just so happens that it is possible to come up with Jesus without hearing about Jesus from someone who heard about Jesus from someone who heard about Jesus … The ancient Greeks did it. They called him Dionysus instead of Jesus but Dionysus was born of a virgin, was the son of a god, was killed, and rose from the dead. Not bad, huh?

But is belief in Dionysus the same as belief in Jesus? Will belief in Dionysus get me into Heaven? My bet is that just about any Christian you talk to will have one of two answers: “Dion who?” or “No!” Let’s even assume, hypothetically if you must, that Dionysus is going to “come again” so that we have all of the fab five. The answer would still be “No!” Why? Because Dionysus was a pagan god. He wasn’t really God’s Son. He wasn’t Jesus.

But what’s in a name? “That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” would it not? Don’t Jesus’ origins and actions make him Jesus? Is there really a sixth criterion — “Thou shalt call His name Jesus?” that we forgot to mention?

Aside from the obvious (i.e. “You have to believe in my ‘Jesus’ and not your ‘Jesus’ because if you believe in your ‘Jesus’ I don’t have as much control over what you believe and, therefore, over you”) I think the reason is that the five facts about Jesus are not the whole story. The whole story is the surrounding drama and historical context. Jesus was Jesus for a lot more reasons than the five listed above. He was Jesus because He was born in Bethlehem, was of the house of David, rode on a donkey, was betrayed, was crucified, and so on and so forth. Jesus was Jesus because He was the Jesus that was predicted in the Old Testament. And only the Jesus predicted in the Old Testament could be the True Jesus. In other words, you can’t just believe in Jesus. You’ve got to believe in The Jesus of My Bible and therefore you have to believe in My Bible and all that entails.

So, what does the Christian do with all those poor souls who are ending up in Hell? How does the Christian sleep at night knowing that right now, this very instant, probably thousands of people are dying without even hearing the name “Jesus”?

In other words … If You’re Gonna Send Billions of People to Hell, You Gotta … stayed tuned for more

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God is like a white rock with black dots … sort of

A quote I found on Rant Fever (and several other places) from Ravi Zacharias, a Christian apologist:

Atheism comes from, literally, the Greek word a-, ‘the negative’; and theism, the word theos for ‘god’ — ‘negative God’ or ‘there is no God.’ It is affirming the non-existence of God. It affirms a negative. Anyone with an introductory course in philosophy recognizes that it is a logical contradiction. It would be like me saying to you, ‘There is no such thing as a white stone with black dots anywhere in all of the galaxies of this universe.’ The only way I can affirm that is if I have unlimited knowledge of this universe. So to affirm an absolute negative is self-defeating, because what you are saying is, ‘I have infinite knowledge in order to say to you, “There is nobody with infinite knowledge”.’ Atheism, as a system, is self-defeating.

The basic argument is: to prove that a white stone with black dots does not exist you would have to look at every single stone in the entire universe. However, to prove that a white stone with black dots does exist, you simply have to find a single white stone with black dots. Since the negative, the “a-stoneism” so to speak, is impossible (given a human’s limited knowledge and sub-light-speed travel ability) it is a logical contradiction, according to Zacharias.

Sounds pretty straightforward, right? Even though stones are a little different than gods or God the contradiction still seems to hold water in God’s case — saying that God does not exist is equivalent to saying that you definitely know that there is no God anywhere in the universe. But how can you know that if you’ve not been everywhere in the universe?

Ok, let’s ignore the logistical implications of looking for God the same way we look for stones and the philosophical implications of equating a physical object with a non-physical being … or spirit … or whatchamacallit. Instead let’s move to the other half of the argument. If it’s easier to prove a white stone with black dots does exist than it is to prove that it doesn’t then it should be easier to prove that God does exist than it is to prove that He doesn’t, right? I mean, come on. All you have to do is find one — I mean Him! (This will be left as an exercise for the interested reader.)

Now, I’ve heard Zacharias speak. Many years ago I even walked down the isle to re-dedicate my life to God during one of his sermons. (Or was it re-re-dedicate?) And I’ve read some of his books. So, I have a good idea where his arguments tend to end up.

In a nutshell, Zacharias is not a religous pluralist. That is, he believes that Christianity is the one and only true religion and that all other religions are false. He lumps atheism in with religion and so it lies under the “false” category. Fair enough. But Zacharias seems to stop short in his argument about atheism. In my opinion, he doesn’t take it far enough — doesn’t take it to its logical conclusion.

And the logical conclusion is that Zacharias’ argument actually supports religious pluralism! Think about it. If it is a logical contradiction to say that there is no God, then it’s also a logical contradiction to say that there is no God.

Did you notice what I did there? The first ‘God’ implicitly refers to the Christian God of the Bible. The second ‘God’ implicitly refers to Allah of Islam or to Shiva of Hinduism or to … Zacharias’ argument is not specific to his Christian God and so is applicable to the Gods of many religions.

I guess Zacharias is a religious pluralist after all!

Pretty sneaky, sis.

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Bertrand Russell: The Fallacy of Only One True Religion

I’m starting a series of posts motivated by the book Why I Am Not a Christian and Other Essays on Religion and Related Subjects by Bertrand Russell (1957). I’ll tell you up front that I agree with some of what he says and disagree with some of what he says. I think some of his opinions are right on and others are ill-conceived, illogical, and totally ridiculous.

First from the Preface, written by Russell himself:

I think all the great religions of the world — Buddhism, Hinduism, Christianity, Islam, and Communism — both untrue and harmful. It is evident as a matter of logic that, since they disagree, not more than one of them can be true.

A classic argument. Interestingly enough, some Christians make the same claim and use it in their “proof” that Christianity is the only true religion. One oft used “proof” is the Blind Men and the Elephant analogy (also here). The claim is that everyone is totally wrong. Everyone, that is, except for the Christian citing the example and those in his camp who have the ability to somehow see the “real” truth. The problem is that he doesn’t place himself anywhere near the blind men or the elephant. He, apparently, has super powers that let him step out of the scenario, shed his blind fold, see the elephant as an elephant, and allow him to condemn all those poor, poor blind souls to hell for all of eternity. Sort of reminds me of Captain Kirk in Star Trek II: The Wrath of Kahn when he admits to reprogramming the computers during the simulation test and, thereby, wins the unwinnable scenario. All too convenient, if you ask me.

Let me remind the gentle reader what we are discussing here. We are talking about God, Allah, Brahman, Atman, etc., etc., etc. We are talking about a being that creates entire universes by speaking. We are talking about a being that knows our innermost thoughts and feelings. We are talking about a being that is totally beyond our comprehension, our imagination. And yet one religion gets it right?

Let me use a contrived example to illustrate. You, me, and Bob are sitting around drinking some really, really good bourbon. Bob says, “I’m thinking of a number between 1 and a gazillion. Guess what it is.” You immediately shout out “42.” I immediately start screaming at you “You’re wrong! It’s not 42. How could it be 42? It’s 7427466391!” and begin flicking lit matches into your hair to simulate the eternal torment you will endure in hell because you are wrong.

That pretty much describes the situation. I can no more know what number Bob is really thinking of than can our elephant-seeing Christian really, truly, completely know God. And if he cannot really, truly, completely know God how can he say that someone else’s understanding of God is wrong?

Paul even backs me up in I Corinthians 13

  1. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
  2. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.
  3. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
  4. For now we see through a glass, darkly, but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

This is Paul talking. You know, St. Paul. The guy who spoke to Jesus — and Jesus spoke back! The guy who wrote a fair amount of the New Testament. He, St. Paul, said that “now I know in part.” Even St. Paul didn’t have all the answers; even he didn’t know what number Bob was thinking of. Is Zacharias really claiming that he knows more than St. Paul? If Paul only knew “in part,” then we, not having spoken with Jesus directly, can only know a fraction of an “in part” and that’s probably not a whole hell of a lot.

But what does this have to do with ol’ Bert? Russell seems to undervalue religion when he claims that conflicting religious ideas cannot both be right because he assumes that man can know god (in whatever form you want to picture god) completely enough that he is able to pass judgement on another idea of god. He also seems to overvalue man’s ability to “know”; if I don’t have the full picture and you don’t have the full picture then who’s to say that both our ideas are not two different aspects of the same, full picture?

For example, let’s assume that god is a cylinder and you and I, in our imperfect, limited, all-to-human knowledge can only see projections of god. I look at god and see a rectangle. You look at god from a different angle and see a circle. Are our two viewpoints necessarily mutually exclusive? Well, obviously not because god is neither a rectangle nor a circle — god is something beyond both our ideas.

In fact, the real answer is to combine our apparently-disjoint knowledge which would allow us all to refine our ideas of god. It’s like those SAT questions where you are given three projections of a three-dimensional object and have to pick the right shape. If you only have a single projection, there is no way you can get the right answer because you don’t see all the details of the object’s surface.

It seems to me that what we really need to do is take the most disparate religious ideas and try to fit them together for it is the disparity itself that tells us we are looking at very different parts of God or we are looking at God from very different angles. It also seems to me that the mystic religious traditions do exactly this. Mystic Christianity has a lot more in common with mystic Islam and mystic Judaism than the main-stream religions have in common with each other.

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