A small public media storm has erupted today (Dec 14, 2012) over the planned conference of the Muslim Public Affairs Council, which has offices in Washington D. C. and Los Angeles. The reason is that the conference is being hosted by an Episcopal Church, All Saints Church in Pasadena.
The New York Times article about this event uncovers the root of the controversy in the work of Ryan Mauro, who was paid by the Institute for Religion and Democracy to write a piece accusing MPAC of being connected to the Muslim Brotherhood, the Islamist political organization that is currently in power in Egypt. The Institute for Religion and Democracy regularly attacks liberal-leaning Christian organizations for their openness and tolerance.
Laurie Goodstein, the writer of the NYT article, pushed Mauro on the nature of the connection he saw between MPAC and the Muslim Brotherhood. Mauro's response was that the council "still promoted books written by scholars who studied with the founder of the Muslim Brotherhood." (That person, Hassan al-Banna, was assasinated in Egypt in 1949.)
Maybe. But that connection, even if true to some extent, is tenuous at best. What is more important is what MPAC stands for in its civic work, and even more so, the relationship that they evidently have with their Christian brothers and sisters at All Saints. The church’s rector, the Rev. J. Edwin Bacon Jr., has worked on interfaith issues with MPAC for years, and is not alone among other civic voices in supporting MPAC through interfaith cooperation.
So there is a level of trust that has been established. Public trust of this kind is highly undervalued, and regularly dismissed by those who wish to hinder progressive civic action and cooperation. The Christians and Muslims involved in making the MPAC Conference happen are to be lauded for working against the tide of kneejerk Islamaphobia that continues to slosh around in American society today. Courageous hospitality, of the kind All Saints Church obviously teaches and preaches, is vital to making interfaith encounters and cooperation not just a dream, but a reality.
December 14, 2012
September 14, 2012
videos, religion, and picking fights
Protests erupted in several Islamic countries this week, the anniverary of 9/11, mostly in reaction to a video denigrating Islam, and especially the prophet Muhammad. The movie was made by an American citizen. This anti-Islamic movie, “Innocence of Muslims,” is said to portray the Prophet Muhammad as a drunken torturer of women and children. It's been around on Youtube for two months, but it was recently dubbed into Arabic, and the trailer swept around the world on Youtube. Suddenly, on Wednesday, four American diplomatic personel were dead because of rioting at the Libyan embassy.
There are several angles to take, but on this blog, we focus on a Christian approach to people of other faiths. Some might ask why the violent reaction to such a video? They might say to themselves that they would never react like that, even if someone from another culture or religion made fun of or denigrated theirs. People should just learn to deal with the humiliation and anger they feel when offended by someone else's bigotted free speech.
But that humiliation is a big factor in driving the hot reactons to incendiary acts that sometimes come out of Western cultures. That humilation comes out of the reality of an inequality, economically and socio-politically, between largely Muslim societies and Western ones. So the casualness, the wanton ease with which the offending material is created in the West, and then shared and tolerated, heaps up the humiliation already present.
On a radio program called "the Takeaway", Dr.Vijay Preshad, chair of South Asian history and director of the international studies department at Trinity College and author of "Arab Spring, Libyan Winter", explained that humiliation among Muslims in the Middle East is running high (it has for decades), even after the changes of the Arab Spring. This is mostly because, despite the significant political changes in many countries, the vast majority of their citizens still feel disenfranchized and voiceless. Many feel they have changed out dictators for Western educated bureaucrats, and have been shut out of the democratic processes that they expected would be open to them now. No matter what the more gentile members of the ruling class say, the political underclass feel the need to assert their voices and vent their feelings. (Actually, there are some reports that the size of the protests around the world this week have been very small, disproportiate to the media furor they've caused. So the political underclass is certainly more diverse than we might think.)
Some might say that this talk of Muslim humiliation only serves to justify the violence and fails to hold such people accountable. But Preshad insists that there is a difference between taking an objective view toward gaining a better understanding, and making excuses for peoples reactions.
The question I keep coming back to is this; what does it take to stir up in people a wise forebearance and a fitting hesitancy to denigrate the religious sentiments of other people? This is not about the laws that protect the right to free speech. They are there. But for people of faith, the question is the ethical use of "free speech." I want to keep in the front of my own mind what values I bring to the decisions I have with regard to free speech. Do I enjoy freedom of speech? Yes. Is it respectful or loving to use free speech in ways that just plain offend other people. No. It may be tempting to get stuck in a thought loop that just bemoans the actions of those we wish would calm down. But people of faith need to reaffirm, with conviction, that regardless of what we could say as citizens protected by national laws, we are not "free" in our Christian consciences to use speech to hurt, demean, dehumanize or slander other people and the things they hold sacred.
There are several angles to take, but on this blog, we focus on a Christian approach to people of other faiths. Some might ask why the violent reaction to such a video? They might say to themselves that they would never react like that, even if someone from another culture or religion made fun of or denigrated theirs. People should just learn to deal with the humiliation and anger they feel when offended by someone else's bigotted free speech.
But that humiliation is a big factor in driving the hot reactons to incendiary acts that sometimes come out of Western cultures. That humilation comes out of the reality of an inequality, economically and socio-politically, between largely Muslim societies and Western ones. So the casualness, the wanton ease with which the offending material is created in the West, and then shared and tolerated, heaps up the humiliation already present.
On a radio program called "the Takeaway", Dr.Vijay Preshad, chair of South Asian history and director of the international studies department at Trinity College and author of "Arab Spring, Libyan Winter", explained that humiliation among Muslims in the Middle East is running high (it has for decades), even after the changes of the Arab Spring. This is mostly because, despite the significant political changes in many countries, the vast majority of their citizens still feel disenfranchized and voiceless. Many feel they have changed out dictators for Western educated bureaucrats, and have been shut out of the democratic processes that they expected would be open to them now. No matter what the more gentile members of the ruling class say, the political underclass feel the need to assert their voices and vent their feelings. (Actually, there are some reports that the size of the protests around the world this week have been very small, disproportiate to the media furor they've caused. So the political underclass is certainly more diverse than we might think.)
Some might say that this talk of Muslim humiliation only serves to justify the violence and fails to hold such people accountable. But Preshad insists that there is a difference between taking an objective view toward gaining a better understanding, and making excuses for peoples reactions.
The question I keep coming back to is this; what does it take to stir up in people a wise forebearance and a fitting hesitancy to denigrate the religious sentiments of other people? This is not about the laws that protect the right to free speech. They are there. But for people of faith, the question is the ethical use of "free speech." I want to keep in the front of my own mind what values I bring to the decisions I have with regard to free speech. Do I enjoy freedom of speech? Yes. Is it respectful or loving to use free speech in ways that just plain offend other people. No. It may be tempting to get stuck in a thought loop that just bemoans the actions of those we wish would calm down. But people of faith need to reaffirm, with conviction, that regardless of what we could say as citizens protected by national laws, we are not "free" in our Christian consciences to use speech to hurt, demean, dehumanize or slander other people and the things they hold sacred.
September 5, 2012
Humility and "cultures of debate"
One of my favorite metaphors for intellectual interaction occurs in Plato's Republic in the Allegory of the Cave [Book VII(514a–520a)]. Socrates, the great philosopher of ancient Athens, is telling this story to Glaucon, Plato's brother. (Here's a link to the story.) At the heart of the philosopher's dilemma is the problem of what to say to those still stuck in the cave, who are looking at shadows on walls manipulated by the cave's stewards, and thinking all along that this is reality. Once you've been out of the cave, and experienced a "higher" reality, you know too much to ever be happy again in the cave. Yet this knowledge obligates you to share it. However, your new knowledge threatens those still in the cave. Plus, your inability to adjust to the darkness (as you go back in) marks you as defficient in their eyes. As Socrates tells it, the philosopher will be attacked and even killed by the others. So, how will you proceed to interact with them? Lifted to the level of intellectural exchange, how do you get people to talk about their most cherished convictions so that they can be examined, tested, and maybe even relinquished?
If we frame this in terms of interfaith dialogue, we might ask what it would take to encourage people of different faiths (Hindu, Muslim, Christian, etc) and different worldviews (theist, atheist, secular, etc) to engage with one another in healthy forms of dialogue, instead of unhealthy attacks on the beliefs of those they disagree with? What does it take to get people to open up to the possibility that their convictions are potentially like another's convictions, i.e. that might be found lacking?
Crucial here is the ability to humbly admit a lack of knowledge while maintaining a good faith effort to stay engaged in dialogue. I was reminded of this intellectual position of humility in a recent NYTimes edition of the Stone, its philosophy blog. Carlos Fraenkel, professor of Philosophy at McGill University, describes how societies might create cultures of debate in which people would be encouraged to engage with others who differ from them about their philosophical worldviews. Of course, there is a difference between interreligious dialogue and philosophical debate, but I'm thinking of the way they overlap. [Also, interreligious "debate" is often what interreligious "dialogue" devolves into. If you've ever experienced this, you know how uncomfortable and frustrating it is.]
I'm drawn to the problem that Fraenkel raises about taking our convictions for granted. Just like those still stuck in the cave, we hate to learn that we take for granted our own philosophical worldviews and don't really examine them. How sure are you that the world is the way you think it is? How sure are you that your religious beliefs are viable? When you think about it, you have to admit that many of your convictions remain simply that, convictions about a certain state of affairs. Is there proof? If so, they're not really convictions, but factual knowledge. Fraenkel says if you take this idea seriously, you are a fallibilist, someone who countenances the possibility that their views might be false. He writes, "...and if you are a fallibilist you can see why valuing the truth and valuing a culture of debate are related: because you will want to critically examine your beliefs and values, for which a culture of debate offers an excellent setting."
I believe these "cultures of debate" could entail both dialogue and debate between religious and non-religious worldviews. The bottom line for all participants is the same: in the spirit of Socrates' story of the Cave, are you willing to submit yourself and your view's to rational scrutiny? If you think you are, Socrates would say that you are more like the true philosopher than the crowd stuck in the cave!
If we frame this in terms of interfaith dialogue, we might ask what it would take to encourage people of different faiths (Hindu, Muslim, Christian, etc) and different worldviews (theist, atheist, secular, etc) to engage with one another in healthy forms of dialogue, instead of unhealthy attacks on the beliefs of those they disagree with? What does it take to get people to open up to the possibility that their convictions are potentially like another's convictions, i.e. that might be found lacking?
Crucial here is the ability to humbly admit a lack of knowledge while maintaining a good faith effort to stay engaged in dialogue. I was reminded of this intellectual position of humility in a recent NYTimes edition of the Stone, its philosophy blog. Carlos Fraenkel, professor of Philosophy at McGill University, describes how societies might create cultures of debate in which people would be encouraged to engage with others who differ from them about their philosophical worldviews. Of course, there is a difference between interreligious dialogue and philosophical debate, but I'm thinking of the way they overlap. [Also, interreligious "debate" is often what interreligious "dialogue" devolves into. If you've ever experienced this, you know how uncomfortable and frustrating it is.]
I'm drawn to the problem that Fraenkel raises about taking our convictions for granted. Just like those still stuck in the cave, we hate to learn that we take for granted our own philosophical worldviews and don't really examine them. How sure are you that the world is the way you think it is? How sure are you that your religious beliefs are viable? When you think about it, you have to admit that many of your convictions remain simply that, convictions about a certain state of affairs. Is there proof? If so, they're not really convictions, but factual knowledge. Fraenkel says if you take this idea seriously, you are a fallibilist, someone who countenances the possibility that their views might be false. He writes, "...and if you are a fallibilist you can see why valuing the truth and valuing a culture of debate are related: because you will want to critically examine your beliefs and values, for which a culture of debate offers an excellent setting."
I believe these "cultures of debate" could entail both dialogue and debate between religious and non-religious worldviews. The bottom line for all participants is the same: in the spirit of Socrates' story of the Cave, are you willing to submit yourself and your view's to rational scrutiny? If you think you are, Socrates would say that you are more like the true philosopher than the crowd stuck in the cave!
August 11, 2012
With the Sikhs, in "good faith"
The horrific mass-shooting in the Sikh Gudwara on August 6, 2012, has inspired many poignant responses. The Sikh community is understandably shocked, but as Bhira Backhaus reveals, there is resignation too. Assimilation to the dominant culture would be to turn one's back on the 100-year history of Sikhs in America. Samuel G. Freedman points out the debate on the hard question of whether American society would be more inured to such an attack if it had happened at a Muslim mosque instead. This issue hinges on whether the rise of Islamophobia in the US is indeed leading people to expect or rationalize anti-Muslim violence in a way different from violence against other groups. The possibility that there is truth in this is very troubling.
It's been my experience that, in the case of most of the major religious groups and organizations, hate crimes and violence are against the tennents of that religion. It is the militant, extreme versions, which are tennuously linked to their larger traditions, that are willing to carry out attacks on innocent victims. Thus, the White Supremacy of the Oak Creek shooter, Wade M. Page, is a warped worldview with tenuous roots in Christian identity. It's a far cry from what Jesus taught.
Of course, this is the case with Sikhism too. In a recent article, Diana Eck (Harvard Divinity School), lifts up one of the most striking aspects of the Sikh tradition--its emphasis on hospitality--and reminds us of how truly welcome the shooter would have been if he had entered that gudwara in "good faith" last week. Acting in "bad faith" and attacking those we fear are so different from us is the same as acting in no faith. There is no trust of others, no hope, no charity. When "bad faith" rules us, the world we live in becomes a living hell.
It's been my experience that, in the case of most of the major religious groups and organizations, hate crimes and violence are against the tennents of that religion. It is the militant, extreme versions, which are tennuously linked to their larger traditions, that are willing to carry out attacks on innocent victims. Thus, the White Supremacy of the Oak Creek shooter, Wade M. Page, is a warped worldview with tenuous roots in Christian identity. It's a far cry from what Jesus taught.
Of course, this is the case with Sikhism too. In a recent article, Diana Eck (Harvard Divinity School), lifts up one of the most striking aspects of the Sikh tradition--its emphasis on hospitality--and reminds us of how truly welcome the shooter would have been if he had entered that gudwara in "good faith" last week. Acting in "bad faith" and attacking those we fear are so different from us is the same as acting in no faith. There is no trust of others, no hope, no charity. When "bad faith" rules us, the world we live in becomes a living hell.
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