Religious Pluralism

In 1965, America's immigration policy underwent a dramatic change. Tight restrictions on immigration from non-European areas of the world were lifted, threatening the comfort zones of most America-First types. For the rest of us, the change opened untold positive possibilities for inter-cultural and inter-religious experiences and dialogue, and a widening sense of what genuine community could be in an increasingly pluralistic society.

That same year, Paul Tillich, one of the most influential theologians of the last century, died. Prophetically, Tillich's last book, on the future of religion, argued that in the generations to come, people of vastly different religious persuasions will gradually reject the time-honored strategy of imposing their beliefs upon one another by various forms of coercion, and begin to support dialogue that leads to greater tolerance and mutual understanding. The dialogue for which he hoped has in fact steadily generated momentum since his death. Most people who participate in it come to appreciate more, and not less, their own religious traditions.

In many areas of the world, we still must be able to make a credible case for the gospel of Jesus Christ to people of no religious sentiments whatever. At home, however, we find ourselves talking with people who already have a lively faith of their own, quite different from ours. We no longer converse just with Protestants of other denominations, with the Roman Catholics and the Orthodox, and with Orthodox, Conservative, and Liberal Jews. There are also increasing numbers of Hindus, Buddhists, and Muslims to be heard from, not to mention those who keep alive the Confucian and Taoist traditions. Also prominent in the conversations are the voices representing Native American religious belief and practice.

As Diana Eck brings out in A New Religious America, the motto of our country, E pluribus unum ("From Many, One") is taking on rich new meanings. Our manyness now encompasses far greater differences, and our oneness far more layers of complexity, than could have even been imagined by the Founding Fathers. In this book, Eck, a Harvard professor of comparative religion, and a life-long Methodist to boot (some wags might regard this as a potentially devilish combination), discusses thoroughly and brilliantly how this is happening in the religious sphere of our common life. Her study is worth a close reading.

A lot of good Christians I know take great offense at the notion that they should pay any heed at all to other religious traditions. If Jesus Christ is the only way to salvation, they tell me, then we have no business spending much time with people who are on their way to perdition. We should just tell 'em all where it's at. A billboard I once saw on the front lawn of a church sums up this outlook rather well. In bold letters, it read: Hey people, come to Jesus! Or go to hell.

Jean-Paul Sartre once wrote that hell is other people. I think he got it partially right. It is truly hellish to be in the company of people for whom the human family is made up of those like them and those unlike them, and for whom the second group doesn't count.

My One-Way-Or-Else friends in the church understand correctly one very important thing about religious dialogue: it does indeed involve a commitment to respect both one's dialogue partners and the views they want to share as potential sources of new discoveries and insights that we are not likely to come by all on our own. Dialogue involves listening, questioning, and reflecting. Most of all, it presupposes a desire and willingness to learn. Some Christians believe strongly that there is nothing anybody from the outside can possibly teach us. By contrast, Paul Tillich trusted that inter-religious dialogue will make people better representatives and practitioners of their own particular faiths. Tillich's trust was well placed.

"Pluralism" is a hard word to be neutral about, just like "conservative," "liberal," and the really explosive one, "relativism." (More about the latter later.) The last three members of this volatile mix are somewhat different in function than the first. Conservatism, liberalism, and relativism all suggest outlooks or attitudes toward the facts of experience that we can choose to accept or not. Pluralism suggests a realm of fact itself. We may choose to ignore it, but we cannot deny it. Religious pluralism is an especially important fact about life in America today. We will be much the worse off spiritually if we do not embrace it gratefully.