Religion as an Element of Mutual Recognition



by Hans Ucko




In every religious tradition there are texts that in different ways speak of respect for and recognition of other religious traditions.

Cardinal Newman is reported to have said: "Oh, how we hate one another 'for the love of God.'" This is the way things are in the world of religions. There is not much space for other religions on the horizon of any specific religion. Religion is basically chauvinistic. Our tribe matters. And in relation to God, we prefer to think of ourselves as the chosen ones of God. God loves us. Yes, God loves everyone, but he loves us a little bit more. When it comes right down to it, it is my religion that is closest to the heart of God.

Every religion expresses in one way or another why it is superior, best, the only way, etc. The verses in the New Testament that are more quoted than anything else by Christians wanting to look for a scriptural weapon against any appreciation of religious plurality and interreligious dialogue are Acts 4:12, "And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved," and John 14:6, "Jesus said to him, 'I am the Way, and the Truth, and the Life; no one comes to the Father, but by me.'" For a very long time the dictum of Cyprian, "Nulla salus extra ecclesiam," or "No salvation outside the church," summarized how the Catholic Church looked upon those who sought salvation outside the church.

Judaism, certainly more tolerant than Christianity when it comes to religious plurality, looks upon other religions with the attitude "Don't bother us and we won't bother you," but it nurtures nevertheless the conviction that, as the prophet says, "Thus saith the Lord of Hosts: In those days ten men from nations of every language shall take hold of a Jew, grasping his garment and saying, 'Let us go with you, for we have heard that God is with you'" (Zechariah 8:23). In the end, the Jews are the only ones who have the truth.

Islam also thinks of itself as the final revelation and God's original intention with humankind. Thus, every child is born with a natural belief in Allah and an inborn inclination to worship him alone, which is called, in Arabic, fitrah. If the child were left alone, he would worship Allah in his own way, but all children are affected by those things around them, seen or unseen. The Prophet reported that Allah said, "I created my servants in the right religion, but devils made them go astray." The Prophet also said, "Each child is born in a state of fitrah, then his parents make him a Jew, Christian, or a Zoroastrian, the way an animal gives birth to normal offspring."

Buddhists will claim that their way exceeds religion. Buddhism is a way of life, a philosophy, a psychology, a way of thinking, through which we may take upon ourselves the responsibility of determining how our life-bearing karma will work out for us.

Hindus have no problem welcoming Jesus into the Hindu pantheon. There is no difference. All the different rivers flow out into one ocean.

I have highlighted one aspect of the various religious traditions, seemingly unable or unwilling to provide much space for other religions in their own right. There is in this reading not very much space for any kind of mutual recognition. This being said, there are, of course, in every religious tradition, texts that in different ways speak of respect for one another, recognition of other religious traditions. But on the whole, the "others" remain in the margin of our religious traditions.

A multifaith think tank coordinated by the World Council of Churches called "Thinking Together" has been working on the whole concept of the "other." The very word has an ambiguous ring about it. Who is the other? And who says who is an other? The very notion of the "other" is in itself something problematic. The other is not in him- or herself an "other." The other is a construction. Others make the other. Someone says that I am an "other," but I am not an "other." The "other" is created. Creating otherness opens up the possibility of marginalization, denigration, and exclusion. Isn't one of the elements of the violence in our world that of "other making"? And our religious traditions have contributed to labeling particular groups as "others." Xenophobia is familiar in the world of religion and coexists in a strange way with the exhortations, commandments, reflections, and words of wisdom calling upon us to respect, to love, to see the other as a significant other, to xenophilia, or love of the other, the very opposite of xenophobia.

What would it take for religions to engage in a sincere process of mutual recognition, either recognizing one another or together working toward a society in which the other is a significant other and not an other as a problem to be overcome?

Although it is true that religious plurality is as old as religion itself, it is equally true that vital parts of the world have only recently experienced religious plurality. Although there have been areas in which Hindus, Muslims, and Christians have lived together side by side, it was not a given that there was more of an interaction than if they had just been living in neighboring communities; even though such integrated living was already an achievement in itself, it did not mean that all groups interacted with or mutually recognized one another. Our part of the world has until quite recently at best lived with minorities of other faiths. In some places, there were rather significant minorities, in others, one faith completely dominated the landscape.

Today the situation is very different and we ask ourselves questions about the creation of a religiously and culturally plural Europe, about mutual recognition, and about the parameters for living together in mutual respect. How do we build a new Europe of Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Jews, agnostics, people of no religion, and people recomposing their own religion? How should a constitution be designed for the European Union? We are now between two alternatives. The situation is either a fait accompli or a tabula rasa. If it is a fait accompli, then the table is set and the menu printed and the others have to take it or leave it. If it is a tabula rasa, then we must begin from scratch and construct a new Europe together, tapping the resources of the many traditions and cultures present here in the construction work. But is a tabula rasa possible?

Can religions recognize one another and can they be instrumental in furthering a mutual recognition of people of various religions? First of all, religions are not agents. The agents of religion are the people.

A religion cannot be streamlined in order to fit like a glove. But religions are not static monoliths; they are alive and therefore have to adapt to suit life.

Religion used to condone and even encourage slavery until one day people began to campaign for an end to an inhuman and undignified way of treating other humans. It took some time before religions followed suit and became a beacon in the fight against slavery.

The last one hundred years have witnessed a movement that could no longer tolerate women being looked upon as the spare rib of men, as second-class citizens who were not even allowed to vote. The struggle for women's rights was perhaps not born within religion, and religion is here and there still struggling against the full emancipation of women. But the door is now opened to full equality of men and women, and it has been given religious sanction.

Today, communities and religions themselves are faced with religious plurality in a way that we have never experienced before. Religion did not evaporate into nothingness as many had thought some forty years ago. It is back in the public square, and it is a problematic intensifier of political conflicts. No religion is an island, and the question of religious plurality can no longer be responded to with exclusivism and "other making." To be religious today is to be interreligious. We see it already--the people in Europe, perhaps not so keen to believe in the set menus of the established churches, still have not given up on religion altogether. They are recomposing religion and making it relevant for their needs. They believe, but in their own way, and they do not understand why they need to belong to a church or subscribe to what some church is saying. They prefer to talk about spirituality and do not want to be co-opted by traditional religion.

Anyone who has a realistic assessment of the world we live in today will see the urgency of a wider ecumenism of religious traditions. Historically, religious traditions have contributed to the fragmentation of the world. Often their history with one another has been marked by rivalry, mutual exclusion, conflict, and outright wars. Although the complexity of what is called "religion" and the constant abuse of religious sentiment and fervor by political forces should sober our judgment, many feel that even today religions play a role in violence and conflicts in the world. Religions do continue to make exclusive claims that, in effect, invalidate other ways of believing and being. We are more and more aware that the problems we face in the world cannot be resolved by any one religious tradition. Most of the problems of the world are not Christian problems needing Christian answers but human problems requiring the collaboration of many. We are also increasingly aware that in their diversity, religious traditions have much to contribute to the enrichment of one another. More and more people are looking for a spirituality that is not sectarian but holistic, a spirituality that opens their hearts and minds to others rather than separates them from others.

In other words, we are longing for a world in which all religious communities will contribute to the well-being of all, a world in which religions will become not yet another force of fragmentation but a source of healing, a world in which religions, in all their diversity, will work toward creating a human family that has at last learned to live in peace and harmony.

What will it take? We need to realize that all sacred religious texts display the same "ambivalence" about war and peace, self and other, etc. Arguing within the context of the Muslim sacred scripture, the Qur'an, Khaled Abou El-Fadl has provided a cogent response to this question. "The meaning of the text," he contends, "is often as moral as its reader. If the reader is intolerant, hateful, or oppressive, so will be the interpretation of the text." The point is that all sacred texts are open to intolerant as well as tolerant interpretations. The challenge for religious and spiritual leaders is first to acknowledge this, no matter how distressing it may be, and then to find authentic ways of dealing constructively with these texts, symbols, and rituals that denigrate the "others" and make violence legitimate and sacred.

There is in every religion an expression of respect for strangers, a commandment to be hospitable, since hospitality in many cultures and religions is a holy duty, closely linked to the right to asylum and respect for strangers. It is a sacred duty, not just a matter of courtesy, to welcome strangers. Hospitality is a universal archetype, where the openness of the heart to the other matters much more than what we actually are able to offer. Etymologically, the root of the words "host" and "hospitality" goes back to the Latin hospes, which meant both guest and stranger. In other words, our language reflects the oneness of the provider and the recipient of hospitality.

Isn't it strange that hospitality and hostility are so similar to each other, at least in terms of letters and sounds? Our history is full of examples when people of other faiths were not received with hospitality but with hostility. Our times can also witness how people of one religion are being pitted against other people and their religion. Our times can witness religion acting as an intensifier of conflict. In such situations, hostility and not hospitality proliferates.

The biblical tradition can refer to many passages and stories, such as Exodus 12:49, "The same law shall apply to the native as to the stranger who sojourns among you," or Hebrews 13:2, "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it." The quintessential story of hospitality from the Hebrew scriptures is the story of Abraham sitting in the opening of his tent in the heat of the day when he saw three strangers approaching. He did not wonder what they were doing there or wait for them to approach--he got up and ran to them, saying, "My lords, if I find favor with you, do not pass by your servant. Let a little water be brought, and wash your feet, and rest yourselves under the tree. Let me bring a little bread, that you may refresh yourselves, and after that you may pass on--since you have come to your servant" (Gen. 18:3--5).

Hospitality not only possesses a strong component of recognition and respect; it is in the deepest sense of the word welcoming outsiders into one's personal space, where a sacramental relationship is established between the host and the guest. There is the insight that all people, known and unknown, could be messengers of God and even God in disguise.

Our context is meeting people of other faiths in an attitude of hospitality. There are many similarities between hospitality and dialogue, but hospitality is more than dialogue. While it is true that dialogue signifies openness to listen and to talk, historical and cultural constraints are limiting factors. Hospitality is more; it is allowing the other to enter our home or being allowed to enter the home of the other. Hospitality is offering strangers food and a place to rest. Hospitality has therefore to do with ethos. It goes beyond communication in words.

We receive the stranger because we are both, whether host or stranger, part of humanity. Religion is intrinsic within humanity. We cannot drive a wedge between being human and being a person for whom religion matters. When we invite a stranger to sit down with us, we may have in front of us a person for whom truth and wisdom, love and holiness are nourished by a vision or experience of God, which in one or many ways may be totally different from our beliefs, commitment, and devotion. If we want to be truly hospitable, we cannot keep at a distance the religion of the other. We cannot define the other. Others are defined by their religions. This is the only way we can listen to others, speak to others, be encouraged by others, and give support to others.


Hans Ucko is the program secretary in the Office on Interreligious Relations and Dialogue of the World Council of Churches in Geneva. He is an ordained minister of the Church of Sweden. Dr. Ucko has written extensively on Jewish-Christian and interreligious dialogue in several languages. His books include Common Roots and New Horizons and The Jubilee Challenge: Utopia or Possibility?


This article was originally published in the July-September 2007 issue of Dharma World.


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