Looking to others for deeper understanding of own faith

Part of the work of a Christian theologian is to consider how his faith relates to the other faiths of the world. Not all religious traditions worship the same god. How they differ from each other matters. This is why I often bristle when people say, “We’re all on different paths to the same god.” The spirit of this statement is well-intended. The goal is respect and understanding. But the differences matter, and I believe there are better ways of saying this that illustrate the particular genius of Christian faith.

I do not say that out of a kind of Christian exclusivism or superiority. Rather, I say we worship different gods out of a sense of respect for the particular ways each religious tradition formulates their concept of their god. And, of course, some traditions worship no god at all. So to believe that all of us — anonymously or secretly or unbeknownst to us — actually worship the same god, does not respect the truth in the other tradition. I’ve heard at least one non-Christian say, when presented with the idea of anonymous Christianity, that really all are Christians through the salvific work of Christ: “Get out my eschatology!”

To respect the religions of others, we are called to know our own tradition well, and then, as best as possible, bring our faith into conversation with other faiths and see what we can learn. In the process, we learn as much or more about our own faith as we do about our neighbor’s faith. I believe this is how we all grow spiritually. Several years ago, a professor of missiology suggested that interfaith dialogue is like exploring a mountain range. All of us in our religious exploration are in a mountain range ascending various mountains. There isn’t just one mountain. There are many. And all those doing the work of ascending their mountain — and doing it well — gain greater clarity about the gods and faiths of neighbors ascending other mountains. The higher you are, the more clearly you can see the entire mountain range, the beauty and variety of mountains surrounding you. If we’re all just ascending the same mountain, on a path to the same god, then the peak is equally occluded from each of us, and if we are on different sides of the mountain, none of us can even see each other.

Because of recent national conversations about the welcome of Muslims to the United States, I have been pondering a recent book by Miroslav Volf, Allah: A Christian Response (HarperOne, 2012). Volf, as a Christian theologian, considers Islam, in particular, and tries as best as possible to articulate a Christian perspective on it. Notice, this is a very different project from trying to explain Islam to Christians. What Volf attempts is an articulate Christian response to Islam. This is authenticity. It has integrity. None of us can really fully know the religious tradition of others, but we can deepen our own understanding of our own tradition as it relates to other faiths.

Reading Volf — and praying over the matter for many years — I have come to the conclusion that Christians and Muslims worship the same God. I did not always believe this. I still think many of the ways the Muslim expression of faith supersedes preceding Abrahamic faiths is problematic, and I would want to challenge many theological positions within Islam. I do not identify wth everything Muslims confess about God, but I believe it is the same God we worship.

Notice, this does not mean I believe all religions worship the same God. I am speaking in this column particularly of Christians and Muslims. Nor am I abandoning my Christian, trinitarian understanding of God. I still confess the creeds. I am a Lutheran Christian. But I think the God we worship is the same God, even if we have, in some ways, very different understandings of that God.

One comparison I find particularly helpful that can shift the terrain is between Muhammad and Jesus. Often Christians assume that is the most appropriate comparison between our two faiths. But actually, Muhammad is neither the savior in Islamic theology, nor the Son of God. So to compare these two men lacks subtlety. A better comparison is probably between Muhammad and Mary. Mary gives birth to the word of God, Jesus. Muhammad births forth the words of God, the written text now known as the Quran. There are even interesting parallels between Mary as a virgin and Muhammad as illiterate before he writes the text. Comparisons, although not exact, sometimes help each of us understand the faith of the other more deeply and share faith with each other.

There is a lot about God in Christ I would want to share with a Muslim — in fact, there’s a lot I’d like to share about God in Christ with anyone who wants to listen! In mutual conversation, I would share how I know God in Christ and listen respectfully to how a Muslim knows God through his religious texts and practice. At the very least, I would hope to draw him to know our shared God more deeply. I’ve had increasing opportunities to have such conversations here in Fayetteville and have been enriched by them.

In the present moment, however, when Muslim neighbors are under attack, I go a step further and express actual solidarity. I’ve even said expressly, “I am Muslim.” Not because I am in practice, but because I am in our shared worship of the same God and in our shared humanity. I might equally say, in another moment, “I am atheist,” if it were my atheist neighbor under attack. And also because, frankly, sometimes the God an atheist doesn’t believe in I don’t believe in either. Christians are committed again and again to overcoming idolatry in order to worship the true God. We have a lot to learn from atheists.

Nor do I think identification can always work. Identification as solidarity sometimes verges on cultural appropriation, a strange kind of colonialism. We can over-define ourselves through our view of the other, as Edward Said points out so vividly in his book, Orientalism (Vintage, 1979). So all I really want to say is that this kind of identification and deep learning — comparative theology that risks deep empathy with others across religious boundaries — has had, at least for me, the impact of deepening my faith and discovering the truth of Christianity.

Which is, of course, quite different than saying Christianity is the one true faith. I’ve always believed that Christianity is true when it doesn’t attempt to lay claim to truth exclusively.

CLINT SCHNEKLOTH