Author, Adam.
Published, March 30, 2009.

“Faith must unite the tolerance based on its relativity with the certainty based on the ultimacy of its concern. In all types of faith this problem is alive, but especially in the Protestant form of Christianity. From the power of self-criticism and from the courage to face one’s own relativity comes the greatness and danger of the Protestant faith. Here more than anywhere else the dynamics of faith become manifest and conscious: the infinite tension between the absoluteness of its claim and the relativity of its life” – Paul Tillich, ‘The Dynamics of Faith’ (p66)

Tolerance is a bit of dirty word in the minds of some Christians. Words like ‘tolerance’ invoke a sense of danger to the Christian. The fear is that if tolerance means giving up the Truth in order to participate in society in a politically-correct way or of accepting other ‘truths’ then he/ she will have no part of it. Truth is never compromised. Any admittance that Truth is relative is therefore frowned upon. This, of course, is not across the board of professing Christians; I should imagine that some are readily tolerant of other beliefs, and would premise one’s own belief with an “I hold to be true” or a “As a person of faith, I believe…”.

As a student of anthropology I am forced to face my own relativity. I exist, as a human, within my own ‘life-world’ (oooh.. anthropology language). I find myself in a particular cultural situation that is potentially very different to another’s situation. I have a particular understanding of how the world is ordered, of how it functions, and of my place within it. It is particular in the sense that I have specific understandings of ‘how things are’ but is also relative, in that my understanding of it is not shared by all humans alike. The truth is, everyone has different beliefs shaped by their own particular situations.

Some beliefs can transcend cultures – arguably scientific ones – that appear to have near universal appeal because it deals so directly with the material world. However, other beliefs do not work in quite the same way. Mainly due to the fact that these other beliefs (be it religious or cultural) add layers of meaning to the material world. For example, beliefs in a supernatural domain (magic, spirits, gods, etc) may form this meaningful layer. In anthropological terms, the word cosmology is used to refer to how various cultures conceive of this secondary layer of meaning that is used to make sense of the world – of how it came to be, of its purpose, its moral principles etc. In short, cosmology answers the ‘why’ and ‘how’ questions of the universe.

Quick example. The account made by Evans-Pritchard of the Zande in Africa is a text book example. A granary falls on a person enjoying its shade and kills him. The Zande wonder why this could happen. Science steps in and says ‘You see, the termites ate away the wooden structures of the granary and it collapsed on the man, killing him’. To which the Zande reply, ‘Yes yes, we understand how it happened –we don’t dismiss science. We want to know why it happened to collapse when Bob was sitting underneath it. It must be the work of magic’. Magic is the secondary explanation as to how and why things occur. Magic implies agency and thus nothing is left to chance, according to this worldview.

Religious belief differs from scientific knowledge in that it deals with things that go beyond the observable and measurable material world. In religion, the material world is interpreted through the lens of religious beliefs. This interpretation may or may not be conscious. In either case, the material world does not come to us unmediated. We categorise and interpret things as they come to us. All that is to say, that our participation with the contents of our world is shaped by our cultural situation, which may include religious beliefs. Belief, in this sense, is not deduced from a direct and pure experience of the world but through our interpretation of it. Our participation with the material world through this framework of belief reinforces that framework. It is not abstract belief, but rather a participation with the ‘really real’. However, beliefs that are culturally or religiously constituted are subjective and are therefore relative. They are relative to at least a minimal degree in that they are not universally accepted.

All this leads me to explain why I think the centre of faith should be validated in how we behave towards others. This is, admittedly, somewhat axiomatic. ‘Love your neighbour’ does not mean treat them as an outsider - as morally, rationally, emotionally inferior. The assumption that seems to be made is that because their beliefs are different to yours, then they either do not have belief or that their beliefs are less valid. That is to say, in ‘loving your neighbour’ you ought to treat humans as humans. In doing so, recognising that the beliefs that one person holds is as real to them as your beliefs are real to you.

“Faith as a set of passionately accepted and defended doctrines does not produce acts of love. But faith as the state of being ultimately concerned implies love, namely, the desire and urge toward the reunion of the separated.” –p132 Paul Tillich ‘The Dynamics of Faith’

The danger in Fundamentalism, as I see it, is that through its assent to particular concrete doctrines, it does not recognise its own relativity and thus does not recognise its own humanness. If it does not recognise its own humanness then it does not recognise the humanness of the other. For Christian Fundamentalism, the absoluteness of its claim that Jesus was the son of God and that He is the only way to God is its strength and virtue. The claim is exclusive. And because its claim is both exclusive and concrete it does not lend itself easily, dare I say at all, towards tolerance. Fundamentalism is not tolerant. “It does not”, as Tillich says, “produce acts of love”. Karen Armstrong would point out that some believers are more concerned about being right than of being compassionate.

This is obviously dangerous territory for some. Although, I think the threat can be avoided if we are able to reconcile the ‘unconditional love and grace’ thing with the ‘absolutely right’ thing. Heck, if they’re going to hell, the only loving thing to do is to tell them they’re wrong. Convert the masses! Stepping on people’s toes now by bullying them into the Kingdom is ultimately the most loving thing you can do if it means saving them from an eternity in hell. ( I obviously have a few problems with the doctrine of hell and evangelism). Honestly, I am not sure how to navigate the waters between the absoluteness of certain religious doctrines which seem so concrete and unmovable and the need to recognise my fellow human beings as being as much human as I am – as relative as I am.

Maybe it is ‘absolutely right’ to love your neighbour, to understand their perspective, to understand their humanity and to understand our own. Tolerance should not at all be a dirty word. We should move beyond it. Yes? No? Would that mean falling into some nihilistic humanist ethic of the Beatles’ ‘All you need is love’? It’s a tough one. Jesus seemed to have believed in it though. Either way, it seems like it takes great courage (or great ignorance).