WHEN RELIGION BECOMES EVIL

PREFACE TO THE REVISED EDITION
Multiple events have shaped the global landscape since the publication
of When Religion Becomes Evil in 2002. It would not be an overstatement
to say that we have been bombarded with numerous,
interconnected, and often conflicting images on issues at the heart
of this book. The role of many groups and individuals claiming
inspiration or divine mandates from God have become an increasingly
visible-and often violent-factor of the global landscape. This is
especially true of Islam, the world’s second largest religion. New
examples demonstrating the “five warning signs” presented in this
book abound. Multiyear sectarian conflict between Sunnis and
Shi’ites in Iraq, the growth of Hezbollah in Lebanon and Hamas in
Gaza, as well as international concern with extremist groups wreaking
havoc in Great Britain illustrate the point. And yet, despite several
cover stories on Time and Newsweek, extensive reporting on
several 24/7 cable news channels, and countless stories in major
newspapers and other broadcast media, many people remained
confused about even the most basic information. The problem was
illustrated dramatically on October 17, 2006, when the New York
Times featured an op-ed article by Jeff Stein titled, “Can You Tell a
Sunni from a Shi’ite?” Stein spent several months interviewing top
counterterrorism officials in Washington, D.C., and various congressional
leaders sitting on select intelligence committees. Five
vi Preface to the Revised Edition
years after the September 11 attacks and well into the fourth year of
the war in Iraq, most “leaders” in the unfolding “war on terrorism”
were flummoxed by the most basic questions about Islam and distinctions
between the major Sunni and Shi’ite branches—both in
general and as they relate to highly visible and sometimes violent
groups with political agendas.
Having spent a great deal of time in Washington over the past
quarter century, I was not at all surprised by Stein’s sobering revelation.
Although we might expect or hope that government and political
leaders would be exceedingly well informed about such vital
matters, they often simply mirror the larger society. After more than
five hundred media interviews and several hundred question-andanswer
sessions following lectures or panel discussions during the
past five years, I know that many people continue to operate with
what might be called detailed ignorance. They have many pieces of
information in mind but often fail to place them within any coherent
frame of reference for understanding and interpreting that
information.
When Religion Becomes Evil seeks to address this challenging problem.
In addition to the main arguments supporting the five warning
signs of religion becoming corrupted, the text provides a gentle introduction
to the critical study of comparative religion. The approach is
not comprehensive. Rather, my goal is to offer an introduction to
critical thinking and questions about the multifaceted phenomenon
we call religion, the fundamental tenets of Islam, diverse and converging
understandings of God, the challenge of conflicting truth claims
in religion, the universal imperative to work diligently for a better,
more just, and peaceful society, and so on. In response to consistent,
positive feedback, this revised edition strengthens these dimensions
of the book and makes the resources more easily accessible to individuals,
classes, and study groups by including a reader’s guide, a brief
glossary, and an index.
While the international spotlight continues to focus on turbulent
developments in many lands where Islam is the dominant religion,
Preface to the Revised Edition vii
the warning signs and examples apply directly to Christianity and
other religions as well. Many who communicated with me or published
reviews of the book underscored the connections in their local
settings. Even a casual reading of newspaper headlines makes clear
the pervasive—and often pernicious—role of religion in shaping key
elements of the U.S. political scene. In the United States, as is the case
around the world, religion continues to inspire people to their highest
and noblest best. Sadly, religion can and too often is also used as
the justification for violent and destructive behavior among individuals
as well as in local and national political processes. Again, examples
are as close as the front page of the daily newspaper.
Since this book first appeared, two other significant developments
related to our focus emerged: the death of Pope John Paul II
and subsequent election of Pope Benedict XVI, and the publication
of several books arguing that religion is the problem. The new edition
of this book addresses these dynamics directly.
In April of 2005, after more than a quarter century, the Roman
Catholic Church elected a new pontiff. During the first years of his
papacy, Pope Benedict XVI has often been substantially less inclusive
than his predecessor, John Paul II. Benedict XVI’s public statements
about Islam and the singular, unique path of Catholicism
have frequently stirred controversy and provoked strong reactions
both within and beyond the walls of the Catholic Church. His public
pronouncements and writings, widely perceived as more narrow
and less ecumenical than the Vatican II theology embraced by John
Paul II, have surfaced amid the ongoing clergy sexual abuse scandal
and emotionally charged demonstrations by Muslims in Denmark,
Great Britain, France, and other lands. As the most visible leader of
the world’s largest religion, Pope Benedict XVI has a substantial
impact on the efforts of all people of faith and goodwill who seek to
find constructive ways forward in our increasingly diverse and
interdependent world community.
In the aftermath of the September 11, 2001, attacks in New York
and Washington, D.C., a number of books have engaged converging
viii Preface to the Revised Edition
issues of religion, politics, and violence in different ways. Among
these, several best-selling books have argued forcefully that religion
is the problem. Given the destructive and frequently irrational
manifestations of religion today, these views are certainly understandable.
The most notable of the popular “evangelical atheism”
books are Christopher Hitchens’s God Is Not Great: How Religion
Poisons Everything (2007); Richard Dawkins’s The God Delusion
(2006); and Sam Harris’s The End of Faith: Religion, Terror, and the
Future of Reason (2004) and Letter to a Christian Nation (2006). In
chapter 1 of this revised edition (“Is Religion the Problem?”), the
merits and limitations of these books are examined.
As every author knows well, the process of bringing a book to
print requires the talents of many people. In addition to those
named in the introduction, I would like to acknowledge three other
colleagues who provided extensive feedback and constructive suggestions
for the revised text: Helen Lee Turner, Christopher Chapman,
and Charlie Notess. Kris Ashley and Julia Roller at HarperOne have
been invaluable in the preparation of this project. Working closely
with Stephen Hanselman and Roger Freet on both the first and
revised editions of this book has been a great pleasure. Though their
roles have changed in our work together—Steve is now a literary
agent and Roger a senior editor at HarperOne—I could not hope for
more thoughtful, insightful, and supportive professional colleagues.
Allow me to also express deep appreciation to four mentors and
friends who have died in the past five years: the Reverend William
Sloane Coffin, Rabbi Arthur Hertzberg, Rabbi Balfour Brickner,
and Professor Edward Said. Their lifelong work, personal affirmation,
and constructive feedback contributed substantially to the first
and this revised edition of the book.
Charles Kimball
Wake Forest University
Winston-Salem, North Carolina
January 2008
INTRODUCTION
Religion is arguably the most powerful and pervasive force on
earth. Throughout history religious ideas and commitments
have inspired individuals and communities of faith to transcend
narrow self-interest in pursuit of higher values and truths. The
record of history shows that noble acts of love, self-sacrifice, and
service to others are frequently rooted in deeply held religious
worldviews. At the same time, history clearly shows that religion has
often been linked directly to the worst examples of human behavior.
It is somewhat trite, but nevertheless sadly true, to say that more
wars have been waged, more people killed, and these days more evil
perpetrated in the name of religion than by any other institutional
force in human history.
Questions about why people do bad things—sometimes unspeakably
evil things—in the name of religion are not new, of course.
Theologians and philosophers have long wrestled with questions
about the sources and manifestations of individual and corporate
evil. Satisfactory answers to such perennial questions are neither
straightforward nor easy. But the questions have taken on a singular
urgency at the dawn of this new millennium.
The dangers posed by people and groups inspired by or operating
under the guise of religion have never been clearer. The tragic
2 Introduction
events of September 11, 2001, underscore the point. We may never
know with certainty what was in the hearts and minds of the nineteen
men who hijacked the four planes that changed the world that
day. But this much is clear: several key leaders among the hijackers
and the al-qaida (“the base”) network supporting them were
inspired and motivated by a particular understanding of Islam. The
five-page, handwritten letter left by ringleader Muhammad Atta
revealed a religious worldview seeking to justify the behavior. The
meticulous planning and preparation were set in a wider framework
as he and his cohorts prepared “to meet God.”1 Similarly,
Osama bin Laden’s widely publicized Jihad Manual and his various
taped messages following the attacks on the World Trade Center
and the Pentagon were laced with religious language and imagery
designed to motivate his followers.
Muslim leaders who clearly wanted no association with the
despicable acts of violence publicly reiterated that Islam is a religion
of peace. They denounced the terrorists’ behavior and supporting
interpretations of Islam as false and illegitimate. President Bush
echoed a similar message repeatedly during the days and weeks
after the attacks: “We have no quarrel with Islam, which is a good
and peaceful religion.”2
Other images of Islam further confused the picture. Osama bin
Laden and his network had strong supporters not only among
Muslims in Afghanistan, but also in Pakistan, Indonesia, Egypt,
Saudi Arabia, and elsewhere. A number of columnists and highly
visible Christian leaders in the United States also seized the media
spotlight in order to proclaim their particular message about
“true” Islam. Some spoke about Islam, the world’s second largest
religious tradition, as somehow inherently violent and menacing.
To bolster the argument, writers and popular preachers frequently
highlighted selected passages from the Qur’an to “prove” a particular
point.3
As a longtime student of Islam, the Middle East, and the interaction
of religion and politics, I was drawn deeply into the swirl of
Introduction 3
activities following the attacks and the subsequent “war on terrorism.”
Judging from the hundreds of questions I fielded during many
national and international media interviews and dozens of speaking
engagements—in university, corporate, and church-related settings—
most people remained confused about Islam and the forces
at work in many predominantly Muslim countries. Who were these
hijackers? What is the meaning of jihad? Why do people call Islam a
religion of peace? How many other “sleepers” might there be in the
United States? Canada? Europe? Who and where are the estimated
thousands of al-Qaida operatives? How can we make sense of the
Islamic connections in the midst of volatile political, economic,
military, social, and cultural dynamics? In the first seven years following
the 9/11 attacks, these and other questions gained more
urgency as Osama bin Laden and his cohort, Ayman al-Zawahiri,
continued to release taped messages, and different groups claiming
affiliation with al-Qaida were linked to terrorist attacks in Spain,
Great Britain, Indonesia, and elsewhere.
The media focus was as intense as it has been on anything in
recent memory. But this event was unlike the Iranian hostage crisis
two decades earlier or the Gulf War of 1991. This time the conflict
was not “over there.” The television images were not those of locked
embassy gates in Tehran or chanting demonstrators or night bombing
raids on Baghdad. The devastating pictures from New York and
just outside Washington, D.C., were all too close and real. Americans
felt vulnerable to powerful forces they did not really understand
and could not easily control.
Indiscriminate violence against innocent people occurs with
numbing frequency. But the events of September 11 were not the
result of a disgruntled postal worker or a serial killer or angry and
confused adolescents in high school. The attacks were carefully
planned and skillfully executed by seemingly intelligent people
whose level of commitment to their cause included suicidal selfsacrifice.
They intentionally blended in with mainstream society as
part of a larger plan. They cleverly used the rules in place—those
4 Introduction
dealing with the detection of airplane hijackers—to accomplish
their mission with three of the four commercial airliners.
The world most U.S. citizens—and Canadians and Australians
and many in Western Europe—thought they knew changed on
September 11, 2001. We had crossed the Rubicon and there was no
turning back. Daily life for the foreseeable future would be different.
Activities as mundane as opening one’s mail, boarding a commercial
airplane, or even attending a major sporting event were no
longer so simple or routine.
The challenges posed by religious diversity combined with the
inescapable fact of global interdependence are now as clear as the
September sky over New York that fateful day. Political and economic
instability and changing cultural values are readily evident
both in our society and in the world community. Combine these
ingredients with narrow religious worldviews and the violent patterns
of behavior too often manifest in human history, and you have
a highly volatile mix. And, we now know with certainty that there
are many potential weapons of mass destruction and that it doesn’t
take many people to wreak havoc on a global scale.
Religious ideologies and commitments are indisputably central
factors in the escalation of violence and evil around the world. The
evidence is readily available in the headlines of our daily newspapers:
“Hindus and Muslims on the Brink of War in Kashmir”; “Serbian
Christians Stand Trial for Atrocities Against Bosnian
Muslims”; “Palestinians Killed by Jewish Settlers in the Occupied
Territories”; “Suicide Bomber Kills Eighty in Attack on Shi’ite
Mosque in Iraq”; “Death Toll Rises in Bombing at Jerusalem Pizza
Parlor”; “Muslim Militant Kills Twenty with Suicide Bomb at
Jerusalem Pizza Parlor”; “Murder Trial Begins for Fundamentalist
Christian Minister in Abortion Doctor Case.” And the list goes on.
Where does the problem reside? Some suggest that religion itself
is the problem, arguing that religious worldviews are anachronistic.
Religion, in this view, is irrelevant at best. It may be inherently divisive
and destructive. Don’t conflicting truth claims inevitably lead
Introduction 5
to conflict? Many people embrace this perspective in our age of
disbelief. It has obvious implications not only for human selfunderstanding,
but also for corporate life in the public square.
Whatever one’s personal outlook, it is crucial that we recognize the
centrality of religion and try to think clearly and discuss thoughtfully
the various ways religious faith and commitments interact
with our society and our world. To say that religion is the problem
may capture part of the truth, but it is ultimately an unhelpful
response to a host of urgent and troublesome issues—from
wrestling with ethical questions about the beginning or end of life,
stem cell research, and therapeutic cloning to finding appropriate
expressions of religion at the often-difficult boundary between religion
and public life.
At the other end of the spectrum, devout adherents of particular
traditions offer unambiguous answers. They understand their particular
vision of Christianity or Islam or even Buddhism as the
“true” way; everything else, by definition, is false. Popular Christian
versions of this orientation are as close as your television remote
control. Tune in religious broadcasting for an hour—anytime, day
or night—and you will get the point. Answers to all one’s personal,
financial, and physical problems are neatly packaged and readily
available. Viewers are encouraged to express their appreciation for
the particular ministry on the air by sending in a “love offering.” It
is highly probable that a rigid theology of exclusivism will be woven
into the rhetoric of whatever program you happen to tune in. Different
religions and virtually every conceivable form of evil and suffering
will be linked simplistically with satanic forces.
Surely, a more nuanced response is needed. A clearer understanding
of the nature and reality of human religiosity helps us
embrace the tasks ahead more cogently. Is religion itself the problem?
No . . . and yes. Within the religious traditions that have stood
the test of time, one finds the life-affirming faith that has sustained
and provided meaning for millions over the centuries. At the same
time, we can identify the corrupting influences that lead toward evil
6 Introduction
and violence in all religious traditions. The first chapter of this book
explores the nature and importance of religion in the ideal as well as
a less-than-ideal lived reality.
My approach includes scholarly, experiential, and personal
dimensions. On one level, my method is that of a comparative historian
of religion. A comparative approach has many benefits. It
helps us see the structures, patterns, and tendencies that various
religious traditions share. It helps us see what is attractive, what
provides meaning and hope for people in different times and places.
It also exposes shared tendencies and common pitfalls. In daily discourse,
most people tend to think and talk about their own religion
in terms of its ideals. At the same time, often unconsciously, they
often characterize other religious systems in terms of poorly understood
teachings and the visibly flawed behavior of adherents. A
comparative approach exposes such disjunctures and enables us to
see religion as a broader, human, phenomenon.
In the central portion of this book I examine five major warning
signs of human corruption of religion. When one finds one or more
of these dynamics at work, history suggests that serious trouble
lurks just ahead. The inclination toward these corruptions is strong
in the major religions. At the same time, I suggest that helpful correctives
are found within the religious traditions themselves.
The focus for this study centers on Christianity and Islam for two
distinct reasons. First, these are the two largest religious communities
in the world, with some 1.8 billion and 1.3 billion adherents,
respectively.4 Together, Christians and Muslims make up almost onehalf
of the world’s population. Both religious traditions are global in
scope. And both engage with political structures more readily than
do other major religions. Contemporary developments in Israel also
figure prominently into this volatile mix. Thus, the interactions
between and among the various descendants of Abraham represent
many of the most dangerous flashpoints on the planet.
Second, a strong missionary impulse is central for both Christianity
and Islam. Basing their position on a solid foundation of
Introduction 7
monotheism, Muslims and Christians frequently have advocated a
narrow exclusivism. Ironically, these central tenets often feed attitudes
and actions that are diametrically opposed to the heart of the
religion being espoused. Christians and Muslims are certainly not
alone in this regard. Similar dynamics among Jews, Hindus, Buddhists,
and others will be highlighted also.
The examples included in the book are selective, not exhaustive.
At various points, I offer explanatory notes and bibliographical references
for those who wish to go further or deeper. Although it
should be clear, it is worth stating emphatically at the outset what I
am not saying. I am not calling the different movements, groups,
and individuals discussed here evil. Instead, I am pointing to warning
signs that alert us to the potential for evil behavior. When one or
more of the warning signs discussed here are in place, it is all too
easy for sincere people and well-intentioned religious groups to
harbor destructive attitudes and justify deplorable actions based on
what is deemed essential to their life of faith. Being sincere doesn’t
exempt people or groups from critical scrutiny.
Some examples illustrating the warning signs are unambiguous
and straightforward; some are rooted in more subtle attitudes and
actions that, when examined, have far-reaching ramifications. Getting
at the dangerous dynamics requires critical analysis of issues
that lie at the very heart of religion, such as the nature of religious
truth, the authority of sacred texts, and the pursuit of the missionary
impulse. There is room for considerable disagreement and
debate on these and other matters discussed throughout the book.
Although many of us have been taught it is not polite to discuss religion
and politics in public, we must quickly unlearn that lesson.
Our collective failure to challenge presuppositions, think anew, and
openly debate central religious concerns affecting society is a recipe
for disaster. We’d better take a few steps back and consider how we
got where we are before simply pushing forward. As a wise friend
once put it, “When you are standing on the edge of a cliff, progress
is not defined as one step forward!”
8 Introduction
Understanding the factors that can and do lead people of faith
and goodwill—wittingly or unwittingly—into destructive and evil
patterns of behavior must be a high priority on the world’s agenda.
Distinguishing between corrupt forms of religious expression and
authentic, life-affirming forms is essential if we hope to reduce the
global threat. At one level, the concern here is pragmatic. We simply
must find better ways to share the planet with people whose
worldviews and ultimate commitments differ from ours. The challenge
pertains across the lines of the religious traditions, but it
relates also to the great diversity within the traditions themselves.
The urgency here cannot be overstated. Several recent influential
books have helped to focus discussion on the powerful and dangerous
dynamics of globalism in a world in which local communal and
sectarian roots remain very deep. These include Thomas Friedman’s
award-winning books, The Lexus and the Olive Tree and The World
Is Flat; Benjamin Barber’s important book, Jihad vs. McWorld: How
Globalism and Tribalism Are Reshaping the World; and the provocative
book by Samuel Huntington, The Clash of Civilizations and the
Remaking of World Order.
The issues are local as well as global. Our society increasingly mirrors
the larger world community. For almost two decades, religion
scholar Diana Eck has been studying and documenting the changing
religious landscape in the United States. Working with some eighty
graduate students at Harvard University in “The Pluralism Project,”
Eck has arrived at stunning results. At the beginning of the new millennium,
the United States is the most religiously diverse nation in
the world. There is simply no doubt: Main Street has changed. Islam
is now or soon will pass Judaism as the second largest religion in the
United States. There are more Muslims in America than there are
Presbyterians and Episcopalians combined. Los Angeles is the most
complex Buddhist city in the world.5
I hope this book can help us coexist at a pragmatic level. But I
believe something more is needed. If we are to live long into the new
millennium, our diverse, interdependent society and world demand
Introduction 9
new paradigms, new ways of understanding particularity and pluralism.
Many traditional ways of viewing the world and relating to
others are, at the very least, inadequate. They are becoming increasingly
dangerous. I am convinced that it is possible to be a person of
faith with integrity—a Christian, a Hindu, a Jew, a Muslim, a Buddhist—
and at the same time recognize that one’s own experience of
God does not exhaust all the possibilities. A constructive outlook of
religious pluralism can take us beyond simple tolerance of others; it
can provide a framework for celebrating diversity and embracing it
as a source of strength. Rather than being necessarily divisive, religious
traditions can provide models for tolerance and cooperation.
The last portion of this book discusses these issues directly, inviting
us to explore new ways of thinking about ourselves and of engaging
with others as we move forward into an uncertain future.
In the pages that follow, readers will observe that I wear more
than one hat. I am a scholar and a religious professional. My doctorate
is in the history of religion (comparative religion) with specialization
in Islam, the Middle East, and Jewish-Christian-Muslim
relations. I am also an ordained Baptist minister. Much of my study
and work during the past twenty-five years has taken place at the
intersection of religion and politics. Far from being impartial or
dispassionate, I am deeply and personally connected with the subject
matter presented in the pages that follow. A brief overview outlining
my background will help both to clarify my orientation and
to set the context for this book.
My paternal grandfather was one of nine children in a Jewish
family that emigrated from the Poland-Russia border in the 1880s.
It is a long and colorful story. Like many Jewish immigrants,
through hard work and education many family members improved
their status over a generation. My grandfather and one of his brothers
were instrumental in this process. Beginning on the street corners
of Boston, they turned their song, dance, and comedy routine
into a highly successful career in vaudeville. The brothers shared
their economic success generously with the extended family. At the
10 Introduction
height of his career, Grandpa met and married a Presbyterian chorus
girl in the vaudeville show. He remained Jewish; she remained
Presbyterian. Their four children—my father and his three brothers—
all became Christians.
My grandfather was the most wonderful person I knew. My
brother, sisters, and I were raised with a very positive understanding
of Judaism. We were imbued with the notion that it was good to be
Jewish. Growing up in Oklahoma, I discovered at an early age that
many people did not share this view of Judaism. Although the Jewish
population in Tulsa was relatively small, I vividly recall hearing
and reacting strongly to derogatory comments uttered casually
about Jews. As in most American communities in the 1950s, Protestants
and Roman Catholics were clearly divided. Protestants commonly
voiced exclusive claims to truth. Many of my Baptist or
Church of Christ friends, for instance, were convinced that the
Methodists, Presbyterians, and Episcopalians were in grave danger
of missing the true gospel of Christ. Catholics were not even on the
map in their view. They spoke about “Christians” and “Catholics”
as though these were entirely different categories. I was ten years old
when these issues played out on the national scene as the Catholicism
of John F. Kennedy raised serious concern among Protestants
during the 1960 presidential campaign.
While debates between and among Christians of different
denominational backgrounds never struck me as of ultimate consequence,
I was troubled deeply by people who made disparaging
comments about Jews. As a child, I interpreted these as direct
ridicule of my grandfather and the extended family. It was clear that
such comments were rooted in ignorance and prejudice (I didn’t
know the term anti-Semitism at the time), for they contradicted my
experience of and relationships within my family.
During high school and college, I became deeply involved in
church and church-related organizations. At the same time, I
began an academic study of religion through an undergraduate
minor at Oklahoma State. I was both puzzled and intrigued by the
Introduction 11
relationship between Christian truth claims and the truth claims
of others. Three years at the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary
in Louisville, Kentucky, provided rich opportunities to pursue
the study of world religions and the theological questions
related to Christian faith in a religiously plural world. I was fortunate
to have excellent faculty mentors throughout college and
seminary. At each step along the journey, people challenged,
encouraged, and nurtured the focus of my study and theological
reflection.
In 1975 I began doctoral study at Harvard. In addition to enjoying
the vast resources of the university, doctoral students in comparative
religion at that time had the unique opportunity to live in
the Center for the Study of World Religions. This setting fostered
daily interactions with other doctoral students of various religious
backgrounds, Harvard faculty, and visiting scholars from all over
the world. It was a stimulating and congenial context in which to
explore issues of particularity and pluralism. As a part of my studies,
my wife, Nancy, and I spent the 1977–78 academic year studying
in Cairo and traveling in Egypt, Jordan, Syria, and Israel/
Palestine. It was a fascinating time to be in the Middle East. We were
living in Cairo when Anwar Sadat stunned the world with his surprise
trip to Jerusalem in October 1977. We learned a great deal living
and traveling in the Middle East, as reactions to Sadat’s initiative
reverberated throughout the region and the U.S.-brokered peace
process between Egypt and Israel began in earnest.
Two years later another dramatic international event captured
the attention of the world media: student militants seized the U.S.
embassy compound in Tehran and held fifty-three Americans
hostage. From the outset of what would become a 444-day ordeal,
the Iranian government indicated its willingness to meet with representatives
of the religious community rather than U.S. government
officials. Through an unusual series of events, I was one of
seven people invited to Iran in December 1979. Since I was one of
two clergy in the group who had studied the Qur’an and the Islamic
12 Introduction
religious tradition, Iranian religious and political leaders received
me warmly.
On two other occasions (in 1980 and 1981), my colleague, John
Walsh, and I were invited back to Iran to help facilitate communication
where little was taking place. These efforts attracted considerable
attention in the international media since we were among the
only Americans involved in personal meetings with Ayatollah
Khomeini and other leading ayatollahs, then-President Bani Sadr,
Ali Akbar Hashemi ar-Rafsanjani, the speaker of the parliament, the
foreign minister, and many other political and religious leaders. On
each trip we spent several hours meeting with the student militants
occupying the U.S. embassy compound. Between December 1979
and the middle of 1981, I took a leave of absence from dissertation
work in order to concentrate on issues surrounding the hostage
conflict. In addition to the intense experiences during two of those
eighteen months, I wrote a number of background and op-ed articles
for major publications, appeared frequently on national and
local television and radio programs, and traveled throughout the
country lecturing in colleges, universities, seminaries, conferences,
churches, and synagogues.
In 1982 I began work as the director of interfaith programs for
the Fellowship of Reconciliation, an international organization
committed to nonviolent conflict resolution. Two years later I
assumed responsibilities as director for the Middle East office at the
National Council of Churches (NCC). I served in that position for
seven years. My work with and on behalf of the major denominations
(Methodists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, Episcopalians, Disciples,
various Baptist and Orthodox churches) required extensive
international and domestic travel. It involved working in war zones
and refugee camps as well as meeting with heads of state, diplomats,
religious leaders, activists, academics, and journalists on a regular
basis. The churches’ work in the Middle East included mission and
service programs (carried out cooperatively with the indigenous
populations) as well as education and public policy initiatives in the
Introduction 13
United States. During the past twenty-five years I have traveled to
various parts of the Middle East more than thirty-five times.
From 1990 to the present I have been working in a university setting.
My research, teaching, and writing continue to focus on the
study of world religions and their interactions. I understand my
work in the university, with churches and other religious groups,
and in the wider community as part of a larger vocation. My ideas
and activities have been challenged and refined by personal, academic,
and experiential factors during the past three decades. Like
everyone else, I am subjective. I try always to understand and be
responsive to the various ways I am subjective as a person of faith, a
student of religion, and one who is committed to fostering understanding
and cooperation among people who share this fragile
planet.
In 1959 Wilfred Cantwell Smith, a monumental figure in Islamic
studies and the comparative study of religion, summarized the
trends in scholarly circles and looked forward to the next phases:
The traditional form of Western scholarship in the study of
other [religious traditions] was that of an impersonal presentation
of an “it.” The first great innovation in recent times has
been the personalization of the faiths observed, so that one
finds a discussion of a “they.” Presently the observer becomes
personally involved, to that the situation is one of a “we” talking
about a “they.” The next step is a dialogue where “we” talk
to “you.” If there is listening and mutuality, this may become
that “we” talk with “you.” The culmination of the process is
when “we all” are talking with each other about “us.”6
We live in a dangerous world in which many people talk of a
“we” and a “they.” Religion is at the heart of what matters most to
the vast majority who inhabit this planet. It is my hope that this
book will stimulate discussion and facilitate the processes whereby
we are all talking more constructively with each other about “us.”
One
IS RELIGION THE PROBLEM?
Religion is a central feature of human life. We all see many indications
of it every day, and we all know it when we see it. But
religion is surprisingly difficult to define adequately. To illustrate
the complex, multidimensional nature of religion, I sometimes present
students in my Introduction to Religion course with the following
assignment on the first day of class: “Take the next few
minutes and write a brief definition for religion.” What happens
next is predictable. After excitedly removing paper from a backpack
or notebook and placing pen in hand, the confident facial expressions
begin to give way to awkward puzzlement. Some smile nervously;
many avoid eye contact. Clearly, these bright students know
what religion is. Many seem to be embarrassed by their inability to
articulate a cogent definition.
The Problem of Definitions and the Limits
of Our Perspectives
The problem of defining religion is a good point of departure for
this book as well. The word religion evokes a wide variety of images,
ideas, practices, beliefs, and experiences—some positive and some
negative. Putting these disparate elements into a coherent frame of
16 when religion becomes evil
reference is no small task. It takes some effort. It forces us to step
back and reflect on our presuppositions. Most people, for instance,
assume that religion involves human thinking about or engagement
with God, gods, or some less personal understanding of ultimate
reality. They might well envision individual or communal responses
to the transcendent, such as prayer, worship services, rituals, moral
codes, and so on. Some people naturally think immediately of the
life and teachings of Jesus or the Buddha when they think of religion;
others might picture the pope or Billy Graham or Mother
Teresa in their mind’s eye. To complicate the picture further, personal
experiences factor in as well. An individual may think of her
confirmation or his bar mitzvah. If she or he has had some negative
personal history with “organized” religion, then that, too, will
surely figure prominently into the presuppositions.
The word religion also conjures up images of destructive or even
cruel behavior. Assumptions about religion now include violent
actions rooted in intolerance or abuse of power. During the year
following the attacks on New York and the Pentagon, Americans
were inundated with media images of Islamic suicide bombers,
Hindu fanatics attacking Muslims (and vice versa) in Northern
India, and Christian clergy being arrested and escorted to jail on
charges of criminal sexual misconduct.
Many of our current associations with religion are changing, in
part because our vantage point is significantly different from that of
the generations before us. Although the world has always been religiously
diverse, we have a much more conscious awareness of religious
pluralism today. Unlike a nineteenth-century Christian living
in Europe or the United States, who may only have heard or read
about people called Jews, Muslims, and Buddhists, a twenty-firstcentury
Western Christian experiences their presence through
social interaction and television images that pour in daily. Put
another way, Rudyard Kipling’s famous line “East is East and West is
West and never the twain shall meet” may have made sense in the
nineteenth century but not today. North and South have joined East
Is Religion the Problem? 17
and West in a system of globalization Kipling could not have imagined.
Whether or not we have wrestled consciously with issues of particularity
and pluralism, at some level we are aware that religion is a
complex component of human life. We know that religion encompasses
much more than our own particular tradition or personal
experience. Like the students in Religion 101, most of us have many
ideas and images about religion. Some come from experience; some
come from personal observation or media images; some ideas have
been passed on culturally in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. Putting
the diverse elements into a broader framework for understanding,
however, turns out to be more challenging than most people expect.
Many of us don’t make a concerted effort until we feel the need to
do so. Frequently, we operate instead with a kind of “detailed ignorance”
about religion.
The field of economics provides a good analogy for our understanding
of religion and its role in the world. Many of us know a fair
bit about economic realities. We invest enough time and energy,
hopefully, to avoid making poor economic decisions about homes,
investments, and retirement plans. Few of us have PhDs in economics,
however. Few of us are able to make sense of the daily
onslaught of economic numbers and at the same time place those in
a larger, global, economic context. When something destabilizing
occurs, it may force us to look again at how we have allocated our
retirement funds or whether it is wise to buy a new house or car in a
volatile market. Uncertainty exposes the gaps in our understanding,
and so we tend to pay more attention, to ask more questions, to
think more broadly about the economic realm and how it affects us
personally. We may not become experts, but many of us will certainly
make a concerted effort to learn enough about the details and
the bigger picture so we don’t make costly decisions unwittingly.
World events at the outset of the new millennium provide an
impetus to take a step back and think more broadly about religion
and the turbulent forces connected with religion in our world.
18 when religion becomes evil
Regardless of one’s personal views about religion, the comparative
study of religion offers an effective way to tackle the problem of
detailed ignorance.
Help from the Comparative Study
of Religion
A common method for understanding world religions involves a
fair-minded, descriptive approach. Gathering data and organizing
the fact