Ongoing
tension between the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith
and U.S. nuns (the Leadership Conference of Women Religious) has captured my
attention. Refer to the following article for a summary of the controversy:
life as poetry: reflections on theology, interreligious dialogue, human relationships, and reconciliation
Friday, June 15, 2012
U.S. Nuns, the Vatican, and Emerging Christianity
The manner in which the Vatican
is censuring these nuns exposes—at least in part— the nature of the divide in
many denominations. Divisions in Protestant denominations and Roman Catholicism
appear to be along the lines of institutional maintenance vs. spiritual
renewal, entrenched power vs. shared power and, in some cases, dictatorship vs. servant
leadership.
Institutional protectionism, it
seems to me, is a major factor driving large segments of the population to
identify as “spiritual but not religious” (See Diana Butler Bass, Christianity After Religion: The
End of Church and the Birth of a New Spiritual Awakening).
Who wants to be
identified with, let alone controlled by, institutional maintenance, entrenched
hierarchy, and dictatorship?
I’m not picking on the Roman
Catholic Church as such. In fact, I have the highest respect for many aspects
of the Catholic Church, especially the historic concern for equality and social
justice represented by the nuns. The Vatican’s contention with U.S. nuns is
just one example of a dynamic I see in most Christian denominations. I find it
hard to name any denomination, especially in Mainline Protestantism, that isn’t
struggling with similar divisions (especially United Methodists, Episcopalians,
and Presbyterians). These divisions, as Bass implies in the aforementioned
book, are largely about institutional protectionism vs. openness to change. Granted,
institutional protectionism plays out differently in different denominations. Hierarchical
powers, for instance, may seek progressive change (e.g. many of the Bishops in
the United Methodist Church and in the Episcopal Church as well as some in the
Roman Catholic Church). In other words, hierarchical power may or may not be
the primary source of entrenchment. Nonetheless, every denomination has its
share of unhealthy protectionism, regardless of the source. As Reinhold Niebuhr
reminded us in Moral
Man and Immoral Society (1932),
institutions, even those comprised of mostly good people, tend to corrupt
themselves through their own pride and self-maintenance.
This tendency
can be particularly destructive in the institutional church which, by the very
nature of its calling, should be free to change under the leadership of the
Spirit. Entrenched
institutions lack the flexibility to follow the Spirit that, like the wind,
“blows where it chooses” (John 3:8). Indeed, with the emergence of what retired
Harvard theologian Harvey Cox calls the “age of the Spirit,” denominations that
don’t “get the memo” about the freedom of the Spirit will, I suspect, continue
a slow and painful death. (See Harvey Cox, The Future of Faith.)
Although I’m devoted to the
church, I increasingly find myself identifying with those who say, “I’m
spiritual but not religious.” To the extent that “religion” means living-out
our spirituality in community, with the mutual responsibility and
accountability that genuine community requires, I am religious. But, to the extent that religion means maintaining an
institution at all costs, I have to go with the “spiritual but not religious”
folks. The “old white man at the top of a pyramid” and the “winner take all and
write history” way of being church is going the way of the dinosaur. The head
of the church said, “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and
those who lose their life for my sake will find it” (Matthew 16:25). In this
light, the message for the institutional church may be the words of Jesus
filtered through the proclamation of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, “When Christ calls an
institution, he bids it come and die.”
Friday, June 1, 2012
The Essential Question of Religious Pluralism
Today’s blog simply raises a
question. Do you believe that Brahman, Dharmakaya, God, God-Beyond-God, Allah,
and other religious formulations of ultimate reality represent the same referent? Stated
in another way the question could be, Is
there warrant for affirming that the same referent is represented by different
religious concepts such as Brahman, Dharmakaya,
God, God-Beyond-God, or Allah?
If you wish to respond to the
question without having your thinking polluted by my thoughts, skip reading the
rest of the blog and go straight to the comments section. Some of my thoughts
on the question are below.
For readers with a background or
interest in religious studies, I should point out that I recognize the
conceptual difficulties with the question. I understand, for example, the
philosophical and methodological differences between Aldus Huxley, Frithjof
Schuon, and Huston Smith over-against George Lindbeck, Stephen Prothero, and Mark
Heim. I am well aware of the dangers of seeking “similarity-in-difference” or
“identity-in-difference” across the chasm separating “cultural-linguistic
systems” (part of the David Tracy—George Lindbeck debate). I find value in
opposing perspectives like Schuon’s Transcendent Unity of Religions
contrasted with Prothero’s God is Not One.
Granted (consistent with
Prothero) it is shallow, ill-informed, and sloppy to say that “all religions
are really saying the same thing.”
Religions say vastly different things in many areas and exhibit very
different ways of thinking about ultimate reality. I fully realize that the
concept of Brahman is different from a theistic notion of a Triune God, both of
which are different than the radically monotheistic conception of Allah, all of
which are surely different from the nontheistic Dharmakaya. I know that Atman
and Anatman raise crucial questions about all of these concepts.
Simultaneously, it seems that
many who reject some version of the Perennial Philosophy are comparing apples
and oranges when they jump from the
very real conceptual and pragmatic differences among religions to such conclusions as (a) each
religion is talking about a different god/referent or (b) there is no way of
knowing if different religions are talking of the same reality because
translation across cultural-linguistic systems is impossible or (c) any talk of
“similarity-in-difference” or “identity-in-difference” is simply an
ill-informed pluralism that collapses one religion into another. Although
conclusions a, b, and c represent possibilities—anyone, holding any
perspective on the subject, can engage in sloppy theological thinking—they are
not the only plausible conclusions.
Huston Smith, for example, recognizes the very real differences among
religions on the exoteric level while positing (admittedly a faith stance) that
they point toward the same referent on an esoteric level. Could it be that
these “fingers pointing at the moon” are actually pointing at the “same moon”? Wouldn’t
one expect conceptual and linguistic differences when people of different
cultural-linguistic systems seek to describe the ineffable? It is no surprise that
there are differences among “effable” formulations, developed in different
religions, of an ineffable reality. In other words, different ways of
describing an ultimate reality encountered in an ineffable experience do not
necessarily mean that the ultimate reality itself is different.
Once again, I recognize the
philosophical and theological difficulties with the question and issues that I’ve
raised. The difficulty is part of what allures me. What are your thoughts?
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