Study of comparative religions advances appreciation of differences
perspective by Nathan Katz

Nathan Katz "Indeed, without a nuanced understanding of how religion works, one would be at a loss to comprehend politics, international relations, society, business, or communications, let along psychology, literature, or art."

Will Herberg's 1960 classic, Protestant, Catholic, Jew: An Essay in American Religious Sociology, reflected American perceptions of religious diversity of the day. At that time, the American religious landscape was considerably less varied than today. Then, it was possible to summarize the American religious scene in minister/priest/rabbi jokes. Popular war movies often centered on a platoon with the predictable northern Protestant lieutenant commanding Irish and Italian Catholics, white southern Baptists, a spiritual "Negro" Christian, and an urban Jew.

Today, television workplace dramatic series have supplanted war flicks as idealized demimondes of social diversity. Whether in the hospital, police precinct or law firm, we now see more women, an occasional Hispanic, a Catholic, a Hindu, African-American Protestants, a Vietnamese-American Buddhist, an eclectic WASP "seeker," and perhaps a kippah-wearing Jew.

America's contemporary confrontation with religious diversity reflects several tendencies.

The first is the inevitable consequence of globalization. As we become more aware of a world beyond our shores, we see the determining role religions play in world politics, strategic alliances and rivalries, and economics. Only a cursory glance at a newspaper reminds us that in order to flourish in the new millennium, we need to know much more than we do about Islam and Buddhism and Hinduism and Confucianism. We were inspired when Polish Catholicism successfully challenged Communism. We watched as Confucian-based societies on the Pacific Rim have become key players in the world economy. We feared nuclear saber-rattling between Muslim Pakistan and Hindu-majority India. And we are anguished by unending conflicts in the Middle East, and we wonder how it is that religions seem more to fuel the flames of war than to douse them with a message of peace. Indeed, without a nuanced understanding of how religion works, one would be at a loss to comprehend politics, international relations, society, business, or communications, let along psychology, literature, or art.

The second tendency is domestic. It is an uncontestable fact that there are more faiths in our community than the three Herberg focused upon in the 1950s. Muslims are today as numerous in America as Jews. Since the Hart-Cellar Act of 1965 opened immigration quotas for non-Europeans, Hindu and Buddhist temples have become commonplace in most American towns of any size. Today a hospital administrator must know the sensitivities of Muslim or Bahai patients, just as law enforcement agencies need to learn about cultural patterns of Buddhists or Santeros. A plethora of smaller religions from Latin America, West Africa, and the Caribbean provide new challenges for today's school teacher who wants to be inclusive of the traditions and folkways of all students.

Both of these tendencies are expansions of Herberg's faith-based analysis of American society of a half century ago. But I would argue that today's greatest challenge is different. The great fissures in today's world, America included, are not interfaith but intrafaith. What I mean is that in times past a background in world religions, about what the great faiths taught and how these teachings were reflected in adherents' lives, was sufficient preparation for the pluralism of the day.

But today new skills are needed. The great fissure of today is between the liberal and traditional elements within any one faith. Due to globalization, it has become easier for liberal members of different faiths to talk to one another than for the liberal to dialogue with the traditionalist of his/her own faith -- and this is precisely the challenge we must begin to address.

In terms of religion, what globalization has done is to recreate the liberal traditions, so often associated with the dominant, English-educated classes around the world, in Miami, Tel Aviv, Bangalore, Kuala Lumpur and Yokohama. In response to a perceived threat to cultural and religious autonomy in the face of globalization, traditionalist religious movements have sprouted up in Iran, Sri Lanka, Japan, the United States, Egypt, and France. These are often mislabeled as "fundamentalist," a term coined in the 1880s in America to refer to very specific trends within Protestantism. As the differences between faiths have become blurred, the tensions between the liberal and traditionalist branches in all faiths have become acute. Whereas we once hurled our most barbed invective against those who did not acknowledge our God, worship our Messiah, or revere our Book, today's passions are inflamed about those who confess the same faith as ourselves but who do so incorrectly.

As before, we need to learn about comparative religions. No self-respecting college can afford to be without a religious studies curriculum, and no major research university can address the myriad issues of contemporary society unless it becomes a locus for advanced religious studies. In my opinion, which I admit is not immune from self-interest, a course in this field should be required if we want our graduates to successfully navigate among the cultures of Miami-Dade County, let alone of the world at large. Such a course must, in part, train students to appreciate the diversity not only between faiths, but within faiths.

 

Nathan Katz, Ph.D., is professor and chairperson of Religious Studies at Florida International University.