Ministers Musings
Unveiling Religious Intolerance
Rev. Lydia Ferrante-Roseberry
Boulder Valley Unitarian Universalist Fellowship
Emmanuel Levinas wrote: “Philosophy is afflicted, from its childhood, with an insurmountable allergy: a horror for the other which remains the other.”
Born in Lithuania to Jewish parents, Levinas left his native land at 17 to study philosophy in Germany, and later France. His family in Lithuania died in the Holocaust, while he, by then a French citizen and soldier, did forced labor as a prisoner of war in Germany. Meanwhile his wife and daughter hid in a French monastery.
These early experiences framed his life’s work of creating a philosophical argument for respect and responsibility to the ‘other’ to supercede all other philosophical frameworks. Instead of the thinking “I” being the essential pillar for existence, epitomized in “I think, therefore I am” – that familiar phrase of Rene Descartes that launched much of modern philosophy — Dr. Levinas began with an ethical “I.” For him, the self is possible only with its recognition of “the Other,” AND that recognition carries with it undeniable responsibility.
I’ve been intrigued by his use of the word ‘allergy’ – defined by my dictionary as: an unusual sensitivity to a normally harmless substance that when breathed, or ingested, or brought into contact with the skin, provokes a strong reaction from the person’s body.
“a normally harmless substance that when brought into contact, provokes a strong reaction”.
I read another definition that said “allergies are simply your body’s immune system making a big deal out of nothing.”
When I think about religious ‘otherness’, many, many of the differences have seemed to me to match that definition. It’s astounding to think that our Unitarian ancestors were burned at the stake for not believing in the Trinity, and even worse to think about how many people were forced to either convert or be killed at the hand of crusaders, be they Christian or Muslim. We see it today in the Islamic Sunni/Shiite split, and in the irony of multiple Christian sects claiming to have the ‘TRUTH’, exclusive of other truths, when the message of Jesus was so much more inclusive.
But where does this ‘allergy’ come from? Is it something innate in human existence, or is it learned? And, in either case, is it something we can, or should, overcome?
Robert Wright, author of The Moral Animal: Why we are the way we are: The New Science of Evolutionary Psychology provides some biological insight:
The human brain, he writes,
Is a “triune” brain whose three basic parts recapitulate our evolution: a reptilian core (the seat of our basic drives), — [This is what I called the lizard brain earlier] –surrounded by a ‘paleomammalian’ brain, (which endowed our ancestors with, among other things, affection for offspring), surrounded in turn by a neo-mammalian brain. The voluminous neomammalian brain brought abstract reasoning, language, and perhaps, [he continues], (selective) affection for people outside the family.
That selective part does not paint a pretty picture for our species.
While admitting this be an overly simplistic model, evolutionary biologists like Wright do believe that our neurological history has a lot, but not everything, to do with our behaviors. Wright concludes:
We are potentially moral animals — which is more than any other animal can say – but we aren’t naturally moral animals. To be moral animals, we must realize how thoroughly we aren’t.
So, this tendency for tribalism -for taking care of our own, and fearing, or worse, the “Other” runs deep, perhaps deeper than our conscious knowing. And, as Levinas noted, it became ingrained in our philosophical world view – a solitary “I”, that does not take into account “the Other.”
I remain perplexed as to why ‘religious practices’, more than other practices, are experienced with such vehemence. I couldn’t imagine a war being started between the countries that prefer soccer to American football. (Then again, the world is a wacky place, so don’t quote me on that!) Why should the practice of Passover v. Easter or Rammadan lead to bloodshed? What is it about religious beliefs that taps into that reptilian brain of ours? Why is it that what one person believes about God can feel threatening to the survival of another person?
Obviously, not all people are threatened by religious difference. But there seem to be fundamentalist strands in all belief systems. Fundamentalist Christians can be intolerant to anyone not in the ‘family’ of those saved by Jesus Christ. Islamists, the fundamentalist strand of Islam, rejects anything non-Muslim and demands total allegiance to Islamic law. Some of the most intolerant rants on the internet come from what I’d call fundamentalist Atheists. There is even a Buddhist fundamentalist hold in Sri Lanka, where the inflexibility of Buddhist priests prevents reconciliation between the Sinhalese Buddhist majority and the minority Tamils, and terrorist measures are being used.
Some people have claimed that the rise of the mono-theistic religions –Judaism, Christianity and Islam – is responsible for religious intolerance. But I have a hard time believing in a nostalgic age where poly-theistic traditions all respected one another.
I wonder if the questions of life and death, of ultimate reality, are somehow so central to our survival, that for some people, any questioning of their own particular belief system has the potential to trigger that ancient fight or flight response? Does identifying with a certain group that shares one’s beliefs satisfy some basic survival instinct that makes any “Other” a threat that needs to be conquered?
We also know that religion is often used as a way to mask other, shall we say, less pious, motives. Arab-Israili conflicts, which go back thousands of years, are less about religious doctrine or beliefs, and more about tribal territorialism. Much of the strife goes back to where God told the twelve tribes of Israel to settle, it has been an issue of historic geographic ‘rights’ rather than religious practice. Rabbi Reimer’s recounting of the story of Shmuel Avidar is a beautiful reminder of an era when diverse practice was celebrated, even in Jerusalem.
Our own country used “God Bless America” in their justification for retaliation after the 9/11 attacks, even when we began attacking a people who had no responsibility for the violence perpetuated against us. Having “God on our side” somehow made this redemptive violence OK, as it has been for centuries. While the justification for some unjust actions may be religious, they are often about power.
But I’m left with another question as well. What if “the Other” isn’t like a “normally harmless” allergen? One of the great concerns I have about liberalism is its tendency to ignore the edges of its ideological inclusiveness. The Taliban is a religious group with a notorious history of oppression of women and the Ku Klux Klan is a Christian group. Is it morally right to be tolerant of groups that oppress others to these extremes?
Dr. Martin Luther King wrote “there are some things in our social system to which all of us ought to be maladjusted.” Are there not belief systems as well that we should not tolerate?
Now believe me, I’m as idealistic as the best of them, and John Lennon’s Imagine brings tears to my eyes every time I hear it — I would love to live in a world where everything could be tolerated, and I seek to create ‘beloved community’ in my own corner of the world.
But in the world I live in, abortion providers are murdered under religious guise, Tibetan Buddhists are oppressed by China’s leadership, and mosques, churches and synagogues are victims of arson in this country.
TK asked me to address the question “What is it with us human beings that religious intolerance persists so vividly?” It’s true that religious intolerance is persistent and vivid – from internet raves and threats, to suicide bombers. I guess after all this my answer still remains –“it’s our lizard brains”, which may not be that satisfying. But the fact that our lizard brains are wrapped in a few other ‘higher’ functioning brains gives me great hope. Because I believe that one of the exceptional things about being human is our capacity to transcend some of those old instincts that are no longer needed as we’ve progressed through time. For the sake of a more liveable world, we need not be as vigilant about the “Other”, especially when it comes to whether they believe that one should worship on Sunday or on Friday.
The questions I’m left with are, “What are the limits to religious tolerance?” and “How do we respond morally to belief systems that we deem should not be tolerated?”
A recent internet example has brings this issue to light. An anti-Church of Scientology YouTube video has gotten over 1.8 million hits in the week since it went up. Here’s some of the text:
Hello, Scientology. We are Anonymous.
Over the years, we have been watching you. Your campaigns of misinformation; suppression of dissent; your litigious nature, all of these things have caught our eye. With the leakage of your latest propaganda video into mainstream circulation, the extent of your malign influence over those who trust you, who call you leader, has been made clear to us. Anonymous has therefore decided that your organization should be destroyed. For the good of your followers, for the good of mankind—for the laughs—we shall expel you from the Internet and systematically dismantle the Church of Scientology in its present form. . . . Your methods, hypocrisy, and the artlessness of your organization have sounded its death knell.
Some would say that the Church of Scientology is a cult, is harming millions of people and deserves to be destroyed. Others find this video intolerant and violent.
If the Church of Scientology is really a hurtful organization, is this internet video which threatens to destroy the organization a moral response? Certainly, dismantling a website poses no physical threat to anyone, but is it still violence?
How do we make these moral judgments? Evolutionary psychologists would use the utilitarian approach – what’s moral is what brings the most people the most happiness. In this case, its corollary might apply —what’s immoral is what brings the least people the least happiness. That approach leaves me with a bit of an ends-justifies-the-means morality, which I relinquished early in my organizing career. Might makes right does is not my moral compass either.
In the end, I come back to compassionate understanding. First, listen. Especially to those who with whom you disagree. Seek to understand. Seek tolerance, acceptance and celebration of difference.
But, when in your compassionate state, you find places where you can not tolerate injustice, I believe it is our moral duty to respond.
Our individual work is to explore the edges of our own tolerance. What provides you your moral compass? Is it our UU Principles? Buddhist philosophy or Christian teachings? A family history of engagement in social justice, or personal experiences which have provided you with a moral and ethical core to which to return?
Our collective work is to build the beloved community – compassionately, morally, and justly. How we do that is where the rubber meets the road.
These are the moral dilemmas that lie on the edges of the question of religious tolerance in our day and age.
I want to thank TK for offering me the opportunity for reflection on this issue, and hope that I’ve offered each of you something as well.
My mind keeps coming back to Emerson, who said ‘it behooves us to be careful what we worship, for what we worship, we are becoming.’
It served, and perhaps still does serve a purpose.
******
To stretch the allergy analogy some, each of us probably has different tolerances to “normally harmless ‘Others’”, different thresholds at which a reaction will occur in our bodies. Maybe knowing a few gays and lesbians is OK, but walking down Castro Street in San Francisco would be very uncomfortable for you. Or maybe having a dozen or so “well behaved” kids around the Fellowship is lovely, but the thought of the energy of 40 or more rambunctious youth running around here overwhelms you. Or maybe one drunk person on the sidewalk makes you cross to the other side of the street.
How allergic are you to ‘Others”? Which “Others” provoke the strongest reactions in you: people younger than you, older than you, darker than you, lighter than you, poorer than you, wealthier than you? Straight men, lesbians? transgendered people? paroles? people with physical disabilities? people who are mentally ill? homeless men and women? prostitutes? mensa members? skinny people? overweight people? people of Arabic descent, Italian descent, Jewish descent, African descent, Irish descent? people with accents? people with noticeable addictions? What triggers you?
Knowing your own ‘allergens’ – where normally harmless others provoke unhealthy responses in you – is essential to healing that part of yourself which is unable to respond with respect and responsibility. Each of us needs to be continually engaged in this work on a personal level, if we are to bring healing to our world.
Of course, each of us is an “Other” to others. I imagine that you found yourself in at least one of those categories. What did it feel like to imagine yourself as a potential ‘allergen’ to others? As a harmless being trying to live your life with integrity, but causing a reaction in others?
I know that for some of you in traditionally marginalized groups, this is not an imaginary exercise, but a way of life. A constant wondering if you are going to create a negative response in others by your simple presence. For this reason, for this pain, I am grateful for the work of Levinas and others for seeking to create an ethical framework that realigns our relationship with one another from an individualistic, dualistic, me v. you stance, to one based on mutual respect and responsibility to each other.
And I am grateful for our religious tradition, which stands upon the principle of the inherent worth and dignity of all people. It is our most powerful principle, and the one that is most difficult to live up to.
We are living in a world where geographic lines of homogeneity are being eroded, along with their false sense of safety. We are no longer able to isolate ourselves in enclaves of people who are ‘just like us’. Those of you who have lived in Chico a long time can attest to that. The population in Chico increased by over 35% between 1990 and 2000, and by another 6% between 2000 and 2003. With it, I’m sure, the community’s diversity has also increased, but the internet failed me in my quest for those statistics. But I have no doubt that Chico is becoming part of the global village.
A great influx of change can make our sensitivity to ‘the Other’ increase. On our own, we can easily allow those reactions to exist without question. We can allow those differences we see to be barriers to relationship and responsibility.
There is no real cure for ‘allergies’, and Levinas uses the pessimistic word ‘insurmountable’ in his analogy. But we do know that intentional exposure to that which provokes our body’s strong reaction, can lessen the symptoms. Allergy clinics are just that: places where people are intentionally exposed, through allergy shots to the very ‘normally harmless substances’ that provoke their symptoms. Similarly, we may be ‘hard-wired’ to be suspicious of that which is different, but through exposure we can choose to lessen and even transform our initial body reaction.
I can speak to my own experience here, and I imagine that you can too. Prior to moving to California in my early twenties, my exposure to gays and lesbians was minimal, and limited to hushed conversations in high school, and even college, of who we thought might be gay. Moving to California, and joining a congregation that affirmed sexual diversity, did, over time, transform my responses to gays, lesbians, bisexuals and even transgendered people, a group that I had never encountered on the East Coast. I confess to you that the journey was not always easy, but I am so grateful to have moved in the direction of openness and embrace.
So you have an opportunity here, in this Fellowship, to learn a new way. You have an opportunity to create a Fellowship here that welcomes the great diversity of the broader community. Unitarian Universalism stands with the mystics of all traditions who acknowledge the Oneness of all creation while at the same time calling for a unity that celebrates diversity.
Today you will be making a decision about the future of the congregation. Regardless of the end result of that decision, this congregation is thriving and growing. This is good news.
It is good news because it provides each of you with an opportunity to grow spiritually as well. An opportunity to extend yourself in new ways to new people, an opportunity for you to extend your own circle of personal concern.
The going may be rough at points. Reaching out to the new, be it the new person, or the new way of doing things, can be scary. But you are not alone. This Fellowship can support you and in turn, it is supported by the embrace of a tradition that encourages this sort of risk-taking. There are people and resources at your disposal.
A number of people in the congregation are interested in embarking on the Welcoming Congregation program – a UUA sponsored program designed to educate congregations on issues related to gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people. My colleagues who have used it in their congregations have shared that it has greatly increased intimacy within the congregation, as well as preparing the congregation to be truly affirming of diversities in sexuality and gender identity.
This period of growth and change seems an ideal one for embarking on such a journey together.
If you embark on the path toward increased ministry, I’d also like to recommend the “Beyond Categorial Thinking” program of the UUA. It will help you, as a congregation, broader your sense of the types of ministers that can ably serve you. Many people, consciously or unconsciously, have a picture of what a minister ‘should’ look like, and that may not include a person of color, a person with a physical disability, a person in their twenties or early thirties, a person who is a theist or an atheist, or even a woman, for that matter. This program can help you uncover for yourselves those hidden pictures, increasing your chances of finding a minister that is well suited for the congregation, if and when you get to that point.
Both of these programs are part of the UUA’s commitment to helping congregations live into our first principle, and not only tolerate, but celebrate the inherent worth and dignity of all people.
So I say: Open your doors and your hearts and let this congregation become its own allergy clinic! That with intention, you may transform your body’s response to the “Other” from one of fear to one of embrace.
Let this congregation truly represent the diversity of the greater Boulder community.
Do it for your own health and for all those out there who are longing for the embrace of a welcoming religious community.
Blessed be and Amen.