Monday, November 24, 2008

When pluralism isn't enough

Today in my verily religion-hating Theorizing Religion class (this batch of students, not me), we discussed Diana Eck's essay "'Is our God listening?: Exclusivism, inclusivism, and pluralism" (from Encountering God). It's the only day in the syllabus that we read a religious rather than a religious studies view. (We also read some Karl Barth.) Eck takes a discussion from Christian reflection on the relationship of Christianity to other religions, and broadens it to suggest that for many religious views, what you believe is not the only important thing; it matters also how you believe it. Are you "exclusivist," assuming and asserting that your tradition has the monopoly on religious truth? Or an "inclusivist," who grants that other traditions have part of the truth, but of course your own has all of it? Or are you - as Eck thinks we should all be - "pluralist," recognizing that there are truths beyond your own tradition, and seeking them out through inter-religious dialogue?

Pluralism is hard to object to (I'm intuitively pluralist myself, though it can feel more like polytheism), and usually when I teach this text, at least some students, if not most, are swayed by Eck's eloquent exposition. It falls to me as teacher to point out the argument's blind spots. (The quickest way in is to probe why Eck is so opposed to "syncretism," and never even mentions the possibility of conversion; think about it.) But today she never had a chance. "She says she's a pluralist," said one very sharp student, "but she never acknowledges nonbelievers. On behalf of all religions, she's an intolerant exclusivist!" I tried to argue that atheists might be part of the inter-religious dialogue, but didn't get very far - unsurprisingly, these atheists can't imagine learning anything from any religion (but don't think that makes them "exclusivists"!). I didn't have the nerve to suggest that Eck got people's hackles up because they can't imagine any talk of "truth" which isn't designed to exclude, as opposed to understood as an invitation to exploration, an occasion for humility, or even a cause for urgent sharing - can't, in short, imagine that a truth might set you free.

One young woman hung around after class, so I asked her what she'd made of our discussion. "That essay is the Bible of 'Encountering Religious Pluralism'!" she said, referring to another course in our curriculum. It seems not one of the challenges posed to it in our discussion has even been aired there. Oops. I mean, hooray - that's why it's good to have many different people teaching in your program!