Religion for Dialogue and Deepening prestudy

Excerpts from articles on Religious Studies and on Religious Dialogue:

Pre-study for "World Religions: An Integrated Approach" Courses

To a Baha'i, the desire to study a religion other than the Baha'i Faith may seem so obvious, it goes without saying. Believing that all religions come from one Divine Source, studying Buddhism or Islam is for a Baha'i simply studying and earlier chapter of the same "changeless faith of God." Since these faiths are not just a historical part of this faith of God but religions that are practiced today, their study allows a Baha'i to understand the beliefs of an individual of another faith and thus show respect for their beliefs and also better teach that individual the Baha'i Faith. A Baha'i might then read the scriptures of another religion and learn about its adherents' beliefs always with an eye to how the writings and beliefs relate to those of the Baha'i Faith.

In the series of courses offered by the Wilmette Institute entitled "World Religions: An Integrated Approach," relating other religions to the Baha'i Faith will be the primarily approach, but it is worth examining this approach before beginning a World Religions course to reflect on how approaching the other faith from a Baha'i standpoint will color the shape and outcome of the study of the religion. To help students reflect on this idea, enclosed are four articles from influential academics in the field of comparative religion which have been abridged and edited by Jonah Winters, a Wilmette Institute faculty member, for use as a pre-study to the World Religions courses. These articles represent different approaches to studying world religions and its implications. While reading the articles, try to identify the approach the author advocates, the goal of the approach, and compare them to your own approach and goal. You may contact Jonah Winters (winters@bahai-library.org) to receive complete, unedited versions (with full original formatting).

The articles included are:
1.
Selections from Huston Smith, The World's Religions. This classic introductory book on the world's religions is written for an introductory audience. In the pages excerpted here from the 400-page book, Smith ruminates on the importance of dialogue and inter-religious understanding in the modern world. Smith's approach is somewhat unusual in that he approaches each faith with a very clear sense of respect, understanding, and personal concern; this book is unusual in that it makes each religion sound like the obvious truth.

2.
Approximately 2 pages of a 28-page essay called "Comparative Religion: Whither and Why" by Wilfred Cantwell Smith, a founder of the study of religious dialogue. It is an academic essay, written for an audience accustomed to dense philosophical prose. His language may be hard to follow in places. This essay contains kernels of theories that have become almost axiomatic in the religious studies community; that is, many of the thoughts he expresses here have become standard opinions about the nature of religious studies. These include thoughts on the nature of religious studies, the place of the scholar in relation to the religion studied, and the relevance of the project in the first place.

3.
"Interfaith and the Future" details some ways to approach dialogue philosophically. Its author, John Hick, is a leading philosopher of religion. The academic study was published as an invited commentary in a Bahá'í journal. After summarizing the history of comparative religion, it presents a few of the most basic philosophical approaches to the problem of religious diversity. It was written for an academically advanced audience. Only small portions have been edited out.

4.
Seena Fazel's "Interreligious Dialogue and the Bahá'í Faith" is a good and clearly-written overview of the nature and state of religious dialogue, the meaning of pluralism, and observations about how Bahá'ís might consider when studying another religion and approaching members of other faiths. About 3/4 of the article is included in this packet.


Jump to:
1.
Huston Smith, The World's Religions
2.
Wilfred Cantwell Smith, "Comparative Religion: Whither and Why"
3.
John Hick, "Interfaith and the Future"
4.
Seena Fazel, "Interreligious Dialogue and the Bahá'í Faith"



1. Selections from Huston Smith, The World's Religions (San Francisco: Harper San Francisco, 1991), excerpted from pages 6-10 and 384-390.

We live in a fantastic century. Lands across the planet have become our neighbors, China across the street, the Middle East at our back door. We hear that East and West are meeting, but it is an understatement. They are being flung at one another, hurled with the force of atoms, the speed of jets, the restlessness of minds impatient to learn the ways of others. When historians look back on our century, they may remember it most, not for space travel or the release of nuclear energy, but as the time when the peoples of the world first came to take one another seriously.

The change that this new situation requires of us all—we who have been suddenly catapulted from town and country onto a world stage—is staggering. Twenty-five hundred years ago it took an exceptional man like Diogenes to exclaim, "I am not an Athenian or a Greek but a citizen of the world." Today we must all be struggling to make those words our own. We have come to the point in history when anyone who is only Japanese or American, only Oriental or Occidental, is only half human. The other half that beats with the pulse of all humanity has yet to be born.

The motives that impel us toward world understanding are varied. The main reason for understanding another is intrinsic—to enjoy the wider angle the vision affords. An analogy from eyesight fits perfectly. Without two eyes—binocular vision—there is no awareness of space's third dimension. Until sight converges from more than one angle, the world looks as flat as a postcard. The rewards of having two eyes are practical; they keep us from bumping into chairs and enable us to judge the speed of approaching cars. But the final reward is the deepened view of the world itself—the panoramas that unroll before us, the vistas that extend from our feet. It is the same with "the eye of the soul," as Plato called it. "What do they know of England, who only England know?"

Practical gains come from being able to look at the world through others' eyes are major. They enable corporations to do business with China, and diplomats to stumble less often. But the greatest gains need no tally. To glimpse what belonging means to the Japanese; to sense with a Burmese grandmother what passes in life and what endures; to understand how Hindus can regard their personalities as masks that overlay the Infinite within; to crack the paradox of a Zen monk who assures you that everything is holy but scrupulously refrains from certain acts— to swing such things into view is to add dimensions to the glance of spirit. It is to have another world to live in. These thoughts about world understanding lead directly to the world's religions, for the surest way to the heart of a people is through its faith.

Religion confronts the individual with the most momentous option life can present. It calls the soul to the highest adventure it can undertake, a proposed journey across the jungles, peaks, and deserts of the human spirit. The call is to confront reality, to master the self. Those who dare to hear and follow that secret call soon learn the dangers and difficulties of its lonely journey.

Science makes major contributions to minor needs, Justice Holmes was fond of saying, adding that religion, however small its successes, is at least at work on the things that matter most. Authentic religion is the clearest opening through which the inexhaustible energies of the cosmos enter human life. What then can rival its power to inspire life's deepest creative centers? It provides the symbols that carry history forward, until at length its power is spent and life awaits a new redemption. This recurrent pattern leads one to conclude that religion is the only real motive force in the world.

Three questions suggest themselves. First, how are we to gestalt or pattern the religions we have considered? Having listened to them individually, what do we now take to be their relationships to one another? Second, have they anything to say collectively to the world at large? Granted their variety, do they speak with a concerted voice on any important matters? Third, how should we behave in a world that is religiously pluralistic where it is religious at all?

The Relation between Religions

To the question of how to pattern these religions, three answers suggest themselves. The first holds that one of the world's religions is superior to the others. Now that the peoples of the world are getting to know one another better, we hear this answer less often than we used to; but even so it should not be dismissed out of hand. No one alive knows enough to say with confidence whether or not one religion is superior to the others—the question remains an open one.

A second position lies at the opposite end of the spectrum: It holds that the religions are all basically alike. Differences are acknowledged but, according to this second view, they are incidental in comparison to the great enduring truths on which the religions unite. This appeals to our longing for human togetherness, but on inspection it proves to be the trickiest position of the three. For as soon as it moves beyond vague generalities—"every religion has some version of the Golden Rule"—it founders on the fact that the religions differ in what they consider essential and what negotiable. Hinduism and Buddhism split over this issue, as did Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. On a world scale Bahá'u'lláh's mission came to the same end. Bahá'í, which originated in the hope of rallying the major religions around the beliefs they held in common, has settled into being another religion among many. Because this second position is powered by the hope that there may someday be a single world religion, it is well to remind ourselves again of the human element in the religious equation. There are people who want to have their own followers. They would prefer to head their own flock, however small, than be second-in-command in the largest congregation. This suggests that if we were to find ourselves with a single religion tomorrow, it is likely that there would be two the day after.

A third conception of the way the religions are related likens them to a stained glass window whose sections divide the light of the sun into different colors. This analogy allows for significant differences between the religions without pronouncing on their relative worth. If the peoples of the world differ from one another temperamentally, these differences could well affect the way Spirit appears to them; it could be seen from different angles, so to speak. Stated in the language of revelation, for God to be heard and understood divine revelations would have had to be couched in the idioms of its respective hearers.


So what do we do? This is our final question. Whether religion is, for us, a good word or bad; whether we side with a single religious tradition or to some degree open our arms to all: How do we comport ourselves in a pluralistic world that is riveted by ideologies, some sacred, some profane?

We listen.

If one of the religious traditions claims us, we begin by listening to it. Not uncritically, for new occasions teach new duties and everything finite is flawed in some respects. Still, we listen to it expectantly, knowing that it houses more truth than can be encompassed in a single lifetime.

But we also listen to the faith of others, including the secularists. We listen first because, as this book opened by noting, our times require it. The community today can be no single tradition; it is the planet. Daily the world grows smaller, leaving understanding the only place where peace can a find a home. We are not prepared for the annihilation of distance that science has effected. Who does not have to fight an unconscious tendency to equate foreign with inferior? Those who listen work for peace, a peace built not on ecclesiastical or political hegemonies but on understanding and mutual concern. For understanding, at least in realms as inherently noble as the great faiths of humankind, brings respect; and respect prepares the way for a higher power, love—the only power that can quench the flames of fear, suspicion, and prejudice, and provide the means by which the people of this small but precious Earth can become one to one another.

Understanding, then, can lead to love. But the reverse is also true. Love brings understanding; the two are reciprocal. So we must listen to understand, but we must also listen to put into play the compassion that the wisdom traditions all enjoin, for it is impossible to love another without hearing that other.



2. Selections from Wilfred Cantwell Smith, "Comparative Religion: Whither and Why," in Mircea Eliade et al., The History of Religions: Essays in Methodology (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1959), excerpted from pages 34-5, 44-5, 52-6.

...The study of a religion is the study of persons. Of all branches of human inquiry, hardly any deals with an area so personal as this. Faith is a quality of men's lives. "All religions are new religions, every morning. For religions do not exist up in the sky somewhere, elaborated, finished, and static; they exist in men's hearts."

We are studying, then, something not directly observable. Let us be quite clear about this, and bold. Personally, I believe this to be true finally of all work in the humanities—we study not things but qualities of personal living. This may make our work more difficult than that of the scientists but it makes it also more important, and in a significant sense more true. Ideas, ideals, loyalties, passions, aspirations cannot be directly observed, but their role in human history is not the less consequential, nor their study less significant or valid. Nor do the transcendent matters to which these may, no doubt inadequately, refer, have a status in the universe the less solid. A galaxy may be larger, but a value I hold to be not only more important but at least equally real and in some ways more real.

...The externals of religion—symbols, institutions, doctrines, practices—can be examined separately; and this is largely what in fact was happening until quite recently, perhaps particularly in European scholarship. But these things are not in themselves religion, which lies rather in the area of what these mean to those that are involved. The student is making effective progress when he recognizes that he has to do not with religious systems basically but with religious persons; or at least, with something interior to persons.

Formerly the scholar was seen, ideally, as the detached academic intellect, surveying its material impersonally, almost majestically, and reporting on it objectively. Such a concept is characteristic of the academic tradition of Western Europe. One cannot belittle that tradition or its accomplishments, in our field or in others. Yet in some ways the situation has become more complex since.

For one thing, the detachment was felt in this particular case to mean that the scholar studied religion but did not participate in it. Most of the significant academic advances in the study of religion before World War I or thereabouts were made by the secular rationalist. In mid-twentieth century, on the other hand, he is joined, if not superseded, by the explicit Christian as a student of non-Christian religions, or at least by the serious searcher as a student of all religions, in the West. Seventy-five years ago it was widely held in universities that a necessary qualification for an "impartial" or scientific study of religion was that the student be without a faith of his own. On the other hand, at the present time the contrary view is also heard, that the student must be a member of the faith he studyies in order to understand it.

A statement about a religion, in order to be valid, must be intelligible and acceptable to those within. It must also of course be intelligible and acceptable to the outsider who makes it. When Muslims and Buddhists meet, what is needed are a statement of Islam that Muslims can recognize as valid and Buddhists can recognize as meaningful, and similarly a statement about Buddhism that Buddhists can acknowledge and Muslims understand. In any dialogue the participants must move towards this if intercommunication is to proceed.

This can be generalized as one of the fundamental tasks of religious studies today. I would formulate it thus: it is the business of comparative religion to construct statements about religion that are intelligible within at least two traditions simultaneously. This is not easy, it has not been done systematically in the past and almost not done at all; but it is intellectually important and historically urgent.

Since the scholar presumably works within an academic tradition, the statement that he produces must first of all be meaningful and cogent within academia. That is, it must satisfy his own trained and inquiring mind, and must satisfy all the most rigorous standards of scholarship. In the particular case where the encounter is between the academic tradition of the West and a particular religion, the statement that is evolved must satisfy each of two traditions independently and transcend them both by satisfying both simultaneously. In the case of an encounter between two religious groups, let us say for example Christianity and Islam, the scholar's creativity must rise to the point where his work is cogent within three traditions simultaneously: the academic, the Christian, and the Muslim. This is not easy, but it can be done.

The emergence of dialogue is important not only in itself but for its further implications. Once it is achieved, the way is opened to a still newer stage. For a dialogue can lead to reconciliation, to an enlarged sense of community. In any case, and at the least, it implies articulateness on two sides. Japanese are studying Christianity, Muslims are studying Western secularism, Muslims, Hindus, and Buddhists are learning to talk to Christian and Western scholars.

I have argued that one cannot study religion from above, only from alongside or from within—only as a member of some group. Today the group of which the student recognizes himself as a member is capable of becoming, even is in process of becoming, world-wide and interfaith. This is the significant matter. For once the community becomes large enough, and if consciousness keeps pace, that process is fulfilled whereby the study is no longer an objective inquiry carried on from the outside, but a human study carried on from within. Even a face-to-face dialogue gives way to a side-by-side conversation, where scholars of different faiths no longer confront each other but collaborate in jointly confronting the universe, and consider together the problems in which all of them are involved.

For finally it will be recognized that in comparative religion man is studying himself. The fact of religious diversity is a human problem, common to us all. It is becoming an incorporated, internal part of the fact of being a Christian that other intelligent, devout, and righteous men are Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists. Even the non-religious man is engaged in living in a world where his fellows are of unreconciled faiths. Every man is personally involved in all man's diversity. Man here is studying one of the most profound, one of the most perplexing, one of the potentially most explosive aspects of his own modern situation. We all are studying the fact that our human community is divided within itself religiously.

The practitioner of comparative religion, then, I am suggesting, may become no longer an observer vis-a-vis the history of the diverse religions of distant or even close communities, but rather a participant. We may look now for a history not so much of the disparate religions but of man's religiousness. Such a history should be persuasive to students of that total history, themselves from diverse faiths. It should be such and they should be such that they can recognize and acknowledge their own separate communities within it, and at the same time recognize and acknowledge the totality, of which also they are learning to be part. Such a history should in particular trace and clarify—even explain— the rise, at a certain period of human history, of the great religions as separate entities.

The student of comparative religion begins with the postulate that it is possible to understand a religion other than one's own. In our day, this postulate is being tested—urgently, severely, by our concrete human situation. We are called upon to make good our claim, in practice, and quickly. To meet this challenge demands that we rethink our purposes, recast our basic concepts. But there is also the promise that if we do meet it, the results may contribute to that largest of contemporary problems, the turning of our nascent world society into a world community...



3. An abridgement of John Hick, "Interfaith and the Future," in Bahá'í Studies Review 4:1 (1994), 1-8. [From an address given to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the World's Parliament of Religions at the Church of Scotland Assembly Hall, The Mound, Edinburgh, 2 October 1993.]
The modern interfaith movement can be said to have begun a hundred years ago at the Chicago World's Parliament of Religions. This "movement," as we have been calling it, simply consists in a new willingness of people of many religions to meet peacefully together, to talk together, to learn about one another's faiths, and to see what comes out of this. It is a matter of following the Spirit where it leads. I want very briefly to speak about where this movement has led thus far, and then very briefly about the possibilities for the future. We all inevitably speak on these matters from a particular point of view, which in my case is Christianity, but I want to speak from the point of view of a Christianity which is consciously part of the world-wide religious situation of humankind.

At the World's Parliament of Religions perhaps the greatest impact was made by the representatives of Hinduism and Buddhism. Since 1893 the new western awareness of Hinduism and Buddhism, and also of other ancient eastern traditions such as Silibism, Taoism and Confucianism, and such newer religions as Bahá'í and the Brahma Kumaris, has grown tremendously. Dialogue between Christians and Hindus and between Christians and Buddhists has developed and now reached quite an advanced stage of mutual understanding. Interfaith dialogue has progressed far beyond mutual politeness and goodwill to an openness which will inevitably affect the future development of each tradition.

Less prominently at Chicago in 1893, but much more prominent today, are the relations between the three Abrahamic faiths of Judaism, Christianity and Islam. During the present century, long-festering European, and basically Christian, anti-Semitism erupted in the Holocaust, the Nazi attempt to exterminate the Jewish people. In the wake of this immense calculated human evil, horrific beyond description, the remaining Jewish community, both in Israel and in the Diaspora, has naturally had survival as its most pressing concern. In Israel the threat hitherto has come from its surrounding Arab neighbours. I think we may realistically hope that this threat has now definitively passed and that a peaceful regional settlement is at last in the process of being achieved, including an autonomous Palestinian state on the west bank of the Jordan and the Gaza strip. In the United States and Europe, the threat felt by Jews is the gradual attrition of the young marrying outside the Jewish community. All this inevitably means that interfaith dialogue, as a religious truth-seeking exercise, is not generally a top priority for many Jews today, although relations with their Christian and Muslim neighbours are always important, and it is never difficult to find Jewish participants for interfaith events. But that their interest should generally speaking be more practical than theoretical is natural, not only in view of the pressing survival issue but also because Judaism has in any case always been more concerned with communal practice than with theological speculation.

Islam was barely represented at Chicago in 1893. This was regrettable. But there have been major developments in the Islamic world since then which concern us all. Until the end of the second world war almost every Muslim country had been for more than a century under foreign colonial domination. Since then they have experienced the first enthusiasm of a new national freedom and then the multiplying problems of internal conflicts, revolutions, the failure of the power of oil to bring prosperity to more than the traditional ruling classes, continuing conflict with Israel, and finally the Gulf war and its destabilizing aftermath. Islam is thus a great and ancient faith and civilization which is today in turmoil, striving to renew—as I am sure that in due course it will—the religious and cultural glories of its golden age in the seventh to thirteenth centuries. At the same time it now counts approximately a billion adherents and is expanding rapidly through population growth, and is likely in the first quarter of the next century to come to outnumber Christianity. Most Muslims live in traditional societies that are culturally remote from the modern secularized West, and think in terms unaffected by the 18th century European Enlightenment which produced what we call modernity. Because of this Islam is often seen in the West as something disturbingly different. There is a perpetual temptation to fear that which is different, and Islam has suffered from this in its persistent "demonization" by the western media. It is regularly presented as inherently violent, aggressive, and "fundamentalist," despite the fact that there are immense internal variations within the Islamic world, and that the great majority of Muslims live peaceful lives pursuing the universal human goal of well-being or happiness, seen in a life lived in submission to God. The distorted picture lodged in the western imagination is mirrored by an equally distorted perception in many Islamic countries of the Christian West as violent, aggressive, and morally decadent. Each of these perceptions does contain an unfortunate element of truth mixed with a large proportion of misunderstanding and misrepresentation. But between them they can generate dangerous confrontations which are in the interests, on the one side, of medieval-style Muslim rulers in need of an alien threat, and on the other side, of western politicians and arms manufacturers who point to Islam as the great external enemy after the demise of Communism.

However when Jews, Christians and Muslims meet to talk about religious issues they discover a great deal of common ethical ground. And Jews and Muslims discover a common approach to religion in their reverence for what is roughly but rather inadequately called law, and also in a common distance from the doctrines of incarnation, trinity, and atonement developed by the Christian church. This comes at a time when there is considerable discussion within Christianity itself about the right way to understand these traditional ideas. Recent work on first century Judaism has shown how thoroughly Jewish a figure Jesus was. Within biblical Judaism the phrase "son of God" was a familiar metaphor both for Israel as a whole and for the special status of ancient Hebrew kings and for the religious status of pious Jews in each generation who were truly dedicated to doing God's will. But the original discipleship of the early Jesus movement to one who was, in this Hebraic metaphor, a son of God, came to be at odds with the Hellenistic development of Christianity which eventually won the day and provided the version of Christianity contained in most of the New Testament documents, though not without many evidences of the still active struggle. But the original but eventually suppressed Jesus movement had a continuing influence outside what became the mainstream church. The New Testament scholar Adolf Schlatter tells us that "the Jewish church...had died out only in Palestine west of the Jordan. Christian communities following Jewish customs still survived in the eastern regions, in Decapolis, Batanaea, among the Nabataeans, on the edge of the Syrian wilderness, and over towards Arabia completely severed from the rest of the Christian world and having no fellowship with it." Some scholars have suggested that this Jewish Christianity was still known in the Arabia of Muhammad's time, and that the Qur'anic picture of Jesus as a great prophet reflects this earliest Jewish Christian conception of him. Regardless of the presence or absence of an historical link between the original understanding of Jesus in the early church and the Qur'anic understanding of him, there is today a small but growing minority of Christian theologians and New Testament scholars for whom christology is no longer a central point of issue with Muslims and Jews. Their view is of course strongly contested by others, and is not the position of the orthodox establishment. I venture to think, however, that something like the original Christian understanding of Jesus, as in the metaphorical sense son of God, is widely spread in the Christian world, to some extent within the churches and to a greater extent outside them. This stands in contrast to a traditional Christianity which insists upon the sole saviourhood of Jesus as God incarnate, with its implication of the unique superiority of Christianity as the only religion to have been founded by God in person. I thus foresee both traditional and non-traditional forms of Christianity existing side by side in the coming century.

Returning to the interfaith movement as a whole, I think we may say that in the last hundred years what has come about is a mutual recognition and a mutual respect which makes possible events such as this commemoration today and makes practical co-operation possible; and the major interfaith effort today is rightly directed towards developing this practical co-operation in the face of the pressing need to achieve peace and justice on earth within a sustainable global economy. The most significant development here is the attempt to formulate a common basic global ethic. For many involved in dialogue, this practical focus means leaving on one side the thorny question of the conflicting truth-claims of our different traditions. Many hold that we are still not ready to tackle those questions, and should not risk contention by bringing them forward. My own view is that genuine questions of belief cannot be avoided and that we must prepare ourselves to face them—not instead of matters of practical co-operation but, for some of us at least, as well as these.

In the area of beliefs and truth-claims I see two contrary possibilities. One is the conclusion that our respective doctrines are simply contradictory and irreconcilable, and that this sets a final limit to the developing relations between the different religious traditions. And, on the face of it, this does seem to be a likely conclusion. How can the eternal, infinite reality with which religion is ultimately concerned be both personal and yet not personal; be both a trinity and yet unitary, be both the God of Israel whose chosen people are the Jews, and yet also be the God of the Qur'an, whose primary historical intervention was in seventh century Arabia; be both the Vishnu and the Shiva of theistic Hinduism; and be both the eternal nonpersonal Brahman, and the universal Buddha nature of all things, and the transcendent and yet immanent Tao? It does seem on the face of it impossible that the great world faiths can all be responding to the same ultimate divine reality.

But there is also another possibility. Let me point to it by means of a series of three analogies. Consider, first, a puzzle picture like, for example, the page made up of an apparently meaningless jumble of lines and squiggles drawn at random, and then as you look at it you suddenly see within it the outline of a face. Or, better, consider the famous duck-rabbit picture used by the philosopher Wittgenstein. This is an ambiguous diagram which can be seen as representing either a duck looking to the left or a rabbit looking to the right, and the mind tends to flip back and forth between these two ways of seeing it. Now suppose there is a culture in which ducks are a familiar sight but rabbits are completely unknown and have never even been heard of; and another culture in which rabbits are familiar but ducks are completely unknown. When people in the duck-knowing culture see the ambiguous figure they naturally report that it is the picture of a duck. And, of course, it is the other way round with the rabbit-knowing culture. Here it is manifestly a rabbit, and there is again no ambiguity about it. The people of these two cultures are fully entitled to affirm, and to proclaim, that this is the picture of a duck, or of a rabbit, as the case may be. And each group, when told of another group who claim that the picture is of something entirely different and alien to them, will maintain that that group are confused or mistaken in some perhaps inexplicable way.

Each group is right in what it affirms but wrong in its insistence that the other group is therefore mistaken. They are both right by virtue of the fact that what is actually there is capable of being equally correctly seen in two quite different ways, as a duck and as a rabbit, though not both by the same person at the same time.

The analogy that I am suggesting here is of course with the religious experience component of religion. And the possibility to which I want to point is that the Real, the Ultimate, is capable of being experienced in terms of many different sets of human concepts, as Jahweh, as the Holy Trinity, as Alláh, as Shiva, as Vishnu, and again as Brahman, as the Dharmakaya, as the Tao, and soon.

A second analogy may help to suggest how this might be possible. This is the wave-particle complementarity in physics as expounded by Niels Bohr in the 1950s. Light in some situations (for example, interference effects) behaves as a wave, in others (for example, photoelectric effects) as a particle. No sharp line can be drawn between the process of observation and what is observed. Thus if, in an appropriate experimental situation, one acts upon light in one way, it is observed to have wave-like properties, and if in another way, to have particle-like properties. The properties it is found to have depend upon how the observer acts in relation to it. The analogy that I have in mind here is with spiritual practices—prayer, meditation, sacraments, common worship. In these practices we act in relation to the ultimately Real. In devotional and petitionary prayer we expect to, and we do, encounter the Real as a personal reality with whom we stand in an I-Thou relationship. In advaitic Hindu meditation people expect to, and do, experience the Real as the infinite non-personal reality of Brahman. In Buddhist Zen meditation people expect to, and do, come to transcend the ego point of view and experience the Real as the universal Buddha-nature of a universe which in itself is empty of everything that the human mind projects im the activity of perception. And so on. Putting it in familiar Christian language, revelation is a relational matter, taking different forms in relation to people nurtured by the different religious traditions, with their different sets of religious concepts and their different kinds of spiritual practice.

A third analogy comes from cartography. Because the earth is a three-dimensional globe, any map of it on a two-dimensional surface must inevitably distort it, and there are different ways of systematically distorting it for different purposes. Thus there are different types of "projection," including the familiar cylindrical projection invented by Mercator which is used in constructing many of our maps of the world. But the point is simply that every map is systematically distorted in accordance with a certain mode of projection. However it does not follow that if one type of map is accurate the others must be inaccurate; If they are properly made, they are all accurate—and yet in another sense they are all inaccurate, in that they all inevitably distort. The analogy here is with theologies, both the different theologies of the same religion, and the even more different theologies and philosophies of different religions. It could be that the conceptual maps drawn by the great traditions are all more or less equally correct in their different projections, and more or less equally useful for guiding us on our journey through life. For our pilgrim's progress is our life-response to the Real. The great world faiths orient us in this journey, and in so far as they are, as we may say, in salvific alignment with the Real, to follow their path will relate us rightly to the Real, opening us to what, in our different conceptualities, we will call divine grace or enlightenment or awakening to reality, and which will in turn bear visible fruit in our lives.

Let me clarify a point at this stage. There is a sense in which most of us who are engaged in interfaith dialogue feel that our own tradition, whichever it is, is special, unique, and right in a way in which no other tradition can be. For we have—in the great majority of cases—been born into this tradition and have been formed from childhood by it. It has, so to speak, created us in its own image, with the result that it fits us and we fit it as no other religion can. It is thus, if you like, the only 'right' religion for us. But nevertheless we have come to realise in interfaith dialogue that the same holds for the adherents of each of the other faiths. And so I as a Christian know that whereas Christianity fits me and is uniquely right for me, Judaism fits and is uniquely right for Jews, Islam for Muslims, Hinduism for Hindus, Buddhism for Buddhists, and so on. But this is quite different from saying that any one of them is uniquely right for everyone.

Of course, 'fitting' one's religion is a matter of degree. Some are not very well satisfied with their own tradition, or are even highly critical of some aspects of it, without however being tempted to convert to another. And some others are so dissatisfied with their own, and at the same time so attracted by another, that they convert to it. But this is a matter of individual conversions for individual reasons. No doubt this will always happen, and happen in every direction; some Christians, for example, becoming Muslims and some Muslims becoming Christians, and likewise between any two traditions. But statistically this is a very small phenomenon compared with the massive transmission of each tradition from generation to generation within its own borders.

What difference does this way of thinking make for religion as we know it? As the sense of rivalry between religions diminishes and they interact in friendly interfaith dialogue they will increasingly influence one another, with each changing to some extent as a result. But nevertheless within this growing interaction each will be basically itself. In this respect, the pluralistic vision makes comparatively little difference to the existing traditions. But in another respect it makes what is for some of them a major difference. For in coming to understand itself as one among several valid human responses to the Real, each will gradually de-emphasize that aspect of its teaching which entails its own unique superiority. And to modify, and eventually abandon, this claim to unique superiority will in each case involve a development. This, as I see it, should be on the agenda for the coming century.



4. An abridgement of Seena Fazel, "Interreligious Dialogue and the Bahá'í Faith: Some Preliminary Observations," in Jack McLean, ed., Revisioning the Sacred: New Perspectives on a Bahá'í Theology. Studies in the Babi and Bahá'í Religions vol. 8 (Los Angeles: Kalimat Press, 1997).
Anyone who begins an interreligious conversation with the pronouncement of a common sharing of beliefs and values among the world's religions has done precisely that—only made a beginning. Such declarations of commonality, although they contain a grain of truth, can be maintained only at a superficial level. They start to lose meaning as one goes deeper into the inner landscape, the experience, beliefs and practices of the different religious traditions. A prominent dialogue theologian likens dialogue to the situation of a newly married couple beginning to grow out of the infatuation that brought them together. As they begin to experience the daily tests and trials of living and working as partners, as they get to know one another better, they soon arrive at the existential realization of how bewilderingly different they are. Like the young couple experiencing the harsh light of real living for the first time, the contemporary challenge in interreligious dialogue is to reconcile differences.

Dialogue is a term used to describe a great variety of interfaith relations. Generally, it involves a collective process or a conversation, a two-way communication or a reciprocal relationship in which two or more parties holding significantly different beliefs endeavor to express accurately to dialogue partners what they mean and to learn from each other in the process. But dialogue is more than just an exchange of views and has come to mean a personal process of refining the beliefs and values of one's own faith vis-à-vis the insights that one has gleaned from others.

Three goals of dialogue are (1) to know oneself more profoundly, just as one learns more about one's native land as a result of living abroad; (2) to know the other ever more authentically; and (3) to live ever more fully, a process described as "mutual transformation." Furthermore, a sharp distinction should be made between dialogue and "evangelistic witness." While the latter aims at conversion, the former does not. The goal is rather mutual understanding, appreciation, and transformation.

This paper will explore the Bahá'í imperative to foster dialogue. Questions arise along the way. Why, for example, should Bahá'ís involve themselves in interreligious dialogue? What does dialogue have to offer to the development of the Bahá'í community? What challenges will Bahá'ís face in the process? The focus in answering these questions will not be historical, but rather will center on the theory and practice of dialogue as depicted in the Bahá'í sacred writings and how it correlates to contemporary scholarship in the field.

Six Forms of Dialogue
Broadly defined, there are six ways that people engage in dialogue: parliamentary dialogue, institutional dialogue, theological dialogue, dialogue in community, spiritual dialogue, and inner dialogue. A brief description of each will illustrate their distinctive features and the interplay between them.

Parliamentary dialogue refers to large assemblies created for interfaith discussion, such as those organized by the World Conference on Religion and Peace and the British-based World Congress of Faiths. The impetus to engage in interreligious dialogue in this century is arguably the result of the first-ever parliamentary dialogue, the 1893 World Parliament of Religions held in Chicago. Such sizeable international gatherings do not lend themselves to a tightly focused agenda, but tend to explore broader concerns, such as the possibilities for better cooperation between religions, and global issues such as peace, poverty, and the environment. They also serve as an important symbol of the strength and vitality of the interfaith movement.

Institutional dialogue includes the organized efforts of particular religious institutions that aim at initiating and facilitating various kinds of dialogue. This type of dialogue also seeks to establish and nurture channels of communication between the institutional bases of religious communities. The World Council of Churches and the Vatican have been active in this area. Numerous variations of this form of dialogue exist on a local level.

Theological dialogue refers to the process of representatives from different religious communities discussing theological and philosophical issues in a structured format. Christians and Muslims may, for example, concentrate their respective understandings on such realities as their prophet-founders, their sacred scriptures, moral values, and the role of religion in society. Academics in particular have pioneered this type of dialogue.

Dialogue in community is a term that encompasses the unstructured interaction between people of different religions. "Most interreligious dialogue takes place in markets and on street corners, at times of festivals or holy days, in the course of civic or humanitarian projects, at times of community or family crisis." Importantly, it also includes cooperative social projects organized by religious groups in response to local problems and practical concerns.

Spiritual dialogue is concerned with deepening spiritual life through interfaith encounter. This type of dialogue does not struggle with theological problems between religious communities, but rather, focuses on shared experience as a means of developing spirituality.

Examples of this are participation in joint worship experiences, and the common celebration of religious festivals and World Religion Day by different faiths.

Inner dialogue takes place within each individual as religious perspectives change on encountering other faiths. This is "the dialogue that takes place in our minds and hearts when we read the Bhagavad Gita, when we meet a Buddhist monk or nun, when we hear the Muslim call to prayer, or when we share the Sabbath meal with Jewish friends."

The Dialogical Imperative
There are a number of Bahá'í scriptural passages that bear on interreligious dialogue. In his Most Holy Book, the Kitab-i Aqdas, Bahá'u'lláh enjoins his followers to "Consort ye then with the followers of all religions," and restates later in that book the command to "Consort with all religions with amity and concord." This call is reiterated on three occasions after the revelation of the Aqdas in a similar vein: "Consort with the followers of all religions in a spirit of friendliness and fellowship." The original Arabic for "consort" used here implies "to be on intimate terms, associate closely" with someone, and is indicative of intimate social intercourse and fellowship. This term has the implication of close, intimate association and fellowship.

Bahá'u'lláh's call to the peoples of the world to promote unity and concord contains some explicit injunctions to dialogue. He states that his revelation is centered on the promotion of the unity of humankind: "The fundamental purpose animating the Faith of God and His Religion is to safeguard the interests and promote the unity of the human race, and to foster the spirit of love and fellowship amongst men." In the same tablet, Bahá'u'lláh expresses the desire that religious leaders of the world "take counsel together" in order to implement whatever measures are necessary to advance the cause of unity. In another tablet, he calls the conflicting peoples of the world to "gather ye together" so that differences may be explored and resolved.

Furthermore, Bahá'u'lláh commands the "men of wisdom among nations" to ''fix your gaze upon unity.'' Thus, Bahá'í sacred scripture presents us with a series of statements that appeal to leaders of both secular and religious thought to consult on the challenges of and prospects for promoting unity. Bahá'u'lláh's plan for the unity of humankind, elaborated throughout his writings, calls for a range of approaches from institutional and theological dialogue to the practical implementation of such consultations through dialogue in community. Further endorsement for the importance of dialogue comes from 'Abdu'l-Bahá's talks. While in North America in 1912, he stressed in a number of talks in churches the need for theological dialogue: "We must investigate reality"; "all of you must strive with heart and soul in order that enmity may disappear entirely" and "seek the means by which the benefits of agreement and concord may be enjoyed"; "the religionists of the world must lay aside imitations and investigate the essential foundation of reality itself. This is the divine means of agreement and unification.'' 'Abdu'l-Baha also encouraged spiritual dialogue: "All must abandon prejudices and must even go into each other's churches and mosques, for, in all of these worshipping places, the Name of God is mentioned. Since all gather to worship God, what difference is there?''

Five Contributions of Dialogue
Interreligious dialogue would appear to be emphasized in the Bahá'í writings for at least five major reasons:

Bahá'í Education and Scholarship: Dialogue can serve as a tool for Bahá'ís to understand more fully the meaning of Bahá'í scripture or, as Bahá'ís put it, to "deepen" in the sacred writings of the Bahá'í Faith. Knowledge of the teachings and scriptures of other religions can aid in the understanding of the Bahá'í writings, which are infused with the religious symbolism and imagery of other revelations. This principle is most obviously exemplified in the case of Islam, the study of which can enable Bahá'ís to learn more about the theological background and terminology of their own religion. This may be viewed as being analogous to the significant impact of Jewish studies on modern Christian scholarship. Thus, Shoghi Effendi suggests that the Qur'an is an "indispensable" tool for the understanding of Bahá'í scripture

It is interesting that Shoghi Effendi broadens this approach when responding to a question of a young Bahá'í, in which he recommends an "intensive study" of the Kitab-i Iqan (Book of Certitude) and Some Answered Questions. He ends the letter by encouraging study of the best contemporary religious scholarship in order "to clarify" these Bahá'í texts: "It is well, too, to read contemporary books, selecting the best, dealing with the same subjects, in order to become thoroughly acquainted with the subject and be able to clarify the Bahá'í teachings."

Theological dialogue is a means to the same end of becoming "thoroughly acquainted" with the best contemporary religious thinking in order to "clarify the Bahá'í teachings." Moreover, dialogue can provide the setting to uncover the universal qualities, the ability of Bahá'í scripture to speak through their time and intended recipient to all time.

Further to being a tool for education and insight, dialogue serves to motivate people to challenge their present understanding of their religion. By acting as a "mirror" for a religious community, participants are provoked into re-thinking our own selves in ways we could not otherwise do. This mirror effect occurs because, through dialogue, the participants are provided with a reflection of how others see them. Since dialogue also raises many questions in the process, it focuses the minds of the participants on aspects of their religious teachings that need to be worked out and further clarified.

Another important challenge facing the Bahá'í community is its approach to religious pluralism. There is a desperate need for Bahá'ís to produce adequate literature that explores the Bahá'í approach to the major religions. The scarce material that exists has been written with Protestant Christianity and Shí'í Islam in mind. Little has been written to clarify the Bahá'í teachings in light of modern views of world theology and religious pluralism.

I would maintain that a comprehensive Bahá'í theology of other religions can only be worked out in the context of dialogue. Dialogue acts as a theological tool and method to explore the relationship of the Bahá'í Faith to other religions. Bahá'í scholars need to dialogue in order to develop a Bahá'í theology of other religions.

The Transformation of Other Religions: Dialogue can act as a tool in fulfilling the preeminent aim of the Bahá'í Faith—the transformation of the world religions so their sequence, interdependence, wholeness, and unity can be realized. Shoghi Effendi has written that " its avowed, its unalterable purpose" lies in its relation to other religions— "to widen their basis, . . . to reinvigorate their life, to demonstrate their oneness, to restore the pristine purity of their teachings." In a related passage, Shoghi Effendi states: "Its declared, its primary purpose is to enable every adherent of these Faiths to obtain a fuller understanding of the religion with which he stands identified, and to acquire a clear apprehension of its purpose."

Instructive in working towards this goal are two examples of dialogue that 'Abdu'l-Baha, as leader of the Bahá'í Faith, had with religious leaders in the West. Both these encounters pursue this challenging theme of the transformation of other religions. The first took place in May 1912 in the United States with Rabbi Stephen Wise, a prominent Jewish theologian of the day. The description of this encounter suggests that the rabbi was impressed by 'Abdu'l-Bahá's message: "Indeed, indeed you are one of the greatest logicians of the world. Up to this time I have been talking to you as a man; now I will address you as a Rabbi." 'Abdu'l-Bahá's approach in this interview was to champion the cause of Christ and, in so doing, to challenge Jews to reconcile their differences with Christians. His tribute to Christ is itself notable: "All the great prophets, the kings and the worthies of the Israelitish nation could not make the Persians believe in Moses. All the prophets such as Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Nehemiah, et al., could not make one Zoroastrian believe in Moses. But one Jew came and many millions believe in Him."

'Abdu'l-Baha pursued this approach in various addresses to Jewish audiences in his tour of North America. When addressing a vast congregation of two-thousand Jews in San Francisco in 1912, 'Abdu'l-Baha challenged the audience to widen the basis of their faith and accept Jesus Christ as the Word of God: "Why do you not say that Christ was the Word of God? Why do you not speak these words that will do away with all this difficulty?"

Another interreligious encounter was with a group of Protestant theologians and priests in Paris in February 1913. Here the emphasis was on christology, and 'Abdu'l-Baha presented an interpretation of the Prologue of St John's Gospel which celebrates the uniqueness of Christ without recourse to exclusivism. He then developed the theme that religions have essential and non-essential parts, consigning the dogmas (including the doctrine of the Trinity) and rituals of the Church to the non-essentials. He suggests that many of these nonessentials have been at the root of religious strife and conflict. The stage is then set for a renewal of the essentials.

One can argue that the Bahá'í Faith can only assume a fuller meaning when the Bahá'í teachings and practice are allowed to benefit, for example, from the metaphysical insights of Buddhism, the devotional practices of Hinduism, the Christian emphasis on the prophet-founder as mediator and savior, the Islamic stress on the sanctity of divine laws, and the importance of communal religiosity in Jewish life.

The Transformation of the Bahá'í Faith: As was noted above, reciprocity—the challenge to mutual transformation and change—is integral to dialogue. Hans Kung has argued that interreligious dialogue "calls for self-criticism and self-correction on all sides," and a "reform of ourselves," if the world religions are to seriously construct a theology of peace. Bahá'ís naturally are not immune from the need for self-renewal.

One potential area for the transformational effect of dialogue on Bahá'í theology and practice lies in the Bahá'í concept of religion. Moojan Momen, a leading Bahá'í historian, has argued that Bahá'ís have constructed a version of the Bahá'í Faith that is based on Western concepts of what religion should be. "Thus, in their presentations Bahá'ís emphasize the concepts of God, the prophet or messenger of God, the revelation of a Holy Book, the establishment of a sacred law, etc." Although this is understandable in view of the historical background and development of the Bahá'í Faith, it has perpetuated a somewhat narrow vision of religion and has consequently seriously limited the potential of the Bahá'í Faith to be relevant to non-Western societies. To overcome this problem, the Bahá'í community needs to familiarize itself with and, where compatibility is feasible, adapt itself to the worldviews of non-Western peoples. This vital process of broadening the basis of the Bahá'í Faith can be undertaken by interreligious dialogue.

The Bahá'í Peace Program: Interreligious dialogue is integral to the process of developing a framework that will allow for the sustainable development of world peace. Bahá'u'lláh has stated that the "essence of the Faith of God" is to prevent religious strife—an important goal of dialogue The Promise of World Peace, a Bahá'í peace charter, calls religious leaders to dialogue in order to remove the causes of religious strife by raising a challenging question: "How are the differences between them [the world's religions] to be resolved in theory and in practice?" The Universal House of Justice suggests a partial response to its own question indicating that theological differences will have to be submerged in a spirit that "will enable them to work together for the advancement of human understanding and peace."

There are two distinct advantages in furthering cooperative social action between the religions as part of the peace process. The first is a moral reason: the need for world peace and the alleviation of the suffering of the victims of war is a universal concern of all religious communities, and it therefore provides a common ground for all religions to participate in dialogue. Every religion will feel the obligation to respond. The second advantage is practical and indirect: the process of solving practical problems together will eventually spill over into discussing the theological issues among the religions. This "hermeneutical method" that facilitates dialogue will evolve naturally once the participants have already worked together and established a sense of trust and fellowship.

The Emergence from Obscurity: An important byproduct of interreligious dialogue is that it reinforces the perception of the status of the Bahá'í Faith as an independent world religion, and one that has a contribution to make to the challenges facing humanity today. Dialogue also creates alliances and friendships that can protect the Bahá'í community from future opposition. In reviewing the achievements of the Six-Year Plan (1986-92), the Universal House of Justice wrote that the Bahá'í community's involvement in the work of interreligious organizations was a significant landmark in the participation of the Bahá'í Faith in public affairs. In other words, institutional dialogue has made an important contribution to the emergence from obscurity.

In summary, these are the main contributions of dialogue for the Bahá'í community: it can aid in developing a more profound understanding of the Bahá'í writings and a Bahá'í theology of world religions; it can contribute to the Bahá'í peace program and to a greater public perception that the Bahá'í Faith is emerging as an independent world religion; dialogue can act as a tool to transform the world religions in order to promote their unity; and dialogue can foster the process of broadening the applicability and relevance of the Bahá'í Faith to non-Western societies.

CHALLENGES OF INTERRELIGIOUS DIALOGUE

Dialogue presents a number of challenges to the Bahá'í community. The first challenge is greater visibility. Bahá'ís have not always been invited to participate in interreligious exchanges. This is partly due to the fact that the Bahá'í Faith has not yet achieved world religion status in the eyes of many academics and religious leaders, and therefore would not be afforded the privilege of a platform with other world religions.

A related problem is that the development of Bahá'í theology has not yet reached the requisite level from which a constructive dialogue with the other world religions can proceed. Historian of religion, Jacques Chouleur, noted in the 1970's that Bahá'í theology is "too simple, too lax and vague. The assertion that all religions are one and that the teachings of God's envoys are identical may fail to convince those who go to the trouble of closely comparing the words attributed to Jesus, Muhammad or Buddha Gautama." Not only is more scholarly literature badly needed, but a culture of critical reflection needs to be further developed in Bahá'í studies. This need is further compounded by a vicious circle: the continued development of Bahá'í studies in part depends on theological dialogue with other religions, but this dialogue cannot take place if Bahá'ís have nothing to offer such a process.

Further important challenges await followers of all faiths to avoid engaging in opportunistic manipulations of dialogue. "The term dialogue has become faddish, and is sometimes, like charity, used to cover a multitude of sins." Among these sins is the "soft-sell" approach, which encourages partners in dialogue to express their views in the hope that such a "dialogue" may well make the "ignorant" person more receptive to the truth that only one side possesses. Some may also feel that in today's more fashionable climate of dialogue, they can more effectively communicate "the truth" to the "ignorant" in a less aggressive style. The clear mandate put forward in the Bahá'í writings is that of informed dialogue and cordial fellowship.

When dialogue is truly free, participants will affirm their own beliefs clearly and passionately. One of the more appealing and effective methods of dialogue is that the laying bare of one's own deeply held religious convictions establishes at the same time an open climate that eagerly invites the dialogue partners to affirm their vision of the truth. But also, participants should speak from the richness of their own religious experience in order to persuade. We want our partners to see what we have seen; we want their lives to be touched and transformed as ours have been. The motivation here is of sharing with the dialogue partner, not trying to win them over. The hope is that the dialogue partner can be transformed by the process. As dialogue involves listening openly and attentively in an attempt to understand the other's position as precisely and as much from within as possible, at some point we might find the dialogue partner's position so persuasive that, if we were to act with integrity, we would have to change. That means that there is a risk involved in dialogue that old positions and traditions may be found wanting. Transformation rather than conversion is the most appropriate term for the goal of dialogue.

Another challenge of interreligious dialogue is that participants may find themselves becoming increasingly alienated from their own religious community. Dialogue can be a lonely quest in which individuals engaging in dialogue may find themselves inadvertently drifting further and further away from their community of origin, partly because dialogue brings about a growth in understanding and an extension of religious experience that is not shared by those who have not participated.

To summarize, dialogue presents some real challenges. Bahá'ís must make greater efforts to ensure that they are valuable contributors in forums of religious dialogue. Bahá'í participants should guard against a tendency to over-simplify a commonality of belief among the world's great religions. The Bahá'í community must stimulate the development of more scholarly literature and Bahá'ís need to avoid conflating dialogue with propagation activities.

STARTING POINTS OF INTERRELIGIOUS DIALOGUE

I propose here three main approaches that the Bahá'í community could pursue in interreligious dialogue. Each of these three "bridges"— the ethical, the intellectual, and the mystical/spiritual—can link Bahá'ís to the communities of other faiths. Along each "bridge," some practical steps are suggested as starting points in this process.

The Ethical Bridge. Cooperative social projects focusing on world peace are advantageous in that they call the participant religions to respond and create the momentum leading to deeper forms of association and dialogue. Opportunities for cooperative social action abound. Obvious concerns relate to societal problems such as homelessness, poverty, and the proliferation of drugs. Both communities can benefit from reciprocal learning. Our task is to learn to collaborate with one another on issues that none of us can solve alone, and dialogue should begin with the questions that arise from the common context of our lives together.

This applies to Bahá'í communities who have both much to learn from and much to contribute to cooperative social projects with other religious communities. Examples of possible joint activities include overcoming the seven obstacles to world peace identified in The Promise of World Peace: racism, extremes of poverty and wealth, unbridled nationalism, religious strife, inequality between the sexes, the low levels of education and literacy throughout the world, and the lack of an international auxiliary language. On national and international levels, dialogue can assist in meeting the goals of the Bahá'í International Community (BIC) at the United Nations whose external affairs strategy as outlined in October 1994, is "to guide the global activities of the community for the immediate future." BIC's strategy will concentrate especially on human rights, the status of women, global prosperity, and moral development. In a similar vein, in 1990, Hans Kung proposed a future agenda for interreligious dialogue, after widespread consultation with representatives of the various world religions. The agenda includes the preservation of human rights, the emancipation of women, the realization of social justice, and the immorality of war

The challenge that the Universal House of Justice issued to the Bahá'í community in 1983 for "greater involvement in the development of the social and economic life of peoples" and the opening of "a wider horizon" of "new pursuits and undertakings upon which we must shortly become engaged" invites Bahá'í communities to work creatively toward implementing their vision of an ever-advancing civilization, a process that would do well to involve the participation and contribution of other religions.

The Intellectual Bridge. Theological dialogue must take note of religious differences. We have to deal with the manyness, the differences, among the religions before we can ever contemplate, much less realize, their possible unity or oneness. This approach is endorsed in the Bahá'í writings. Bahá'u'lláh calls upon the peoples of the world to "root out whatever is the source of contention amongst you," and the Universal House of Justice appeals to the religious leaders of the world to consider how their differences can "be resolved in theory and in practice." Two difficulties are presented to Bahá'ís who approach dialogue with these questions in mind. The first is the tendency to oversimplify and to reduce all religions to something they are not. The official pluralist too often finds ways to reduce real otherness and genuine differences to some homogenized sense of what we already know. Some pluralists, the vaunted defenders of difference, can become the great reductionists—reducing differences to mere similarity, reducing otherness to the same, and reducing plurality.

A second related problem is to assume that religious differences will be swept away as all humanity gradually embraces the Bahá'í Faith. Although the Bahá'í writings suggest nothing of the sort, this attitude is occasionally expressed when Bahá'ís teach their faith. A notable and recent example of this assumption on outsider perception is the comment of the current President of the World Congress of Faiths, Edward Carpenter. When Carpenter was asked about the relationship of the Bahá'í Faith to Christianity, he explained: "it disturbs me when on occasion I hear a well-meaning Bahá'í taking the view that it is God's will that all religions will be absorbed, ultimately, into the Bahá'í Faith. This is a form of imperialism which, I think, we need to guard ourselves against."

In order to resolve religious differences, Bahá'í scholars have identified a number of principles that are applicable to the many theological disputes among the religions. Among the most controversial differences are those concerning the nature of God and the nature of the founders of the various religious communities. Bahá'í scholars have explored three theories that attempt to address these questions: cognitive relativism, the essence-attribute distinction, and complementarity. These theories can be seen as hypotheses that should be tested, developed, and refined in the context of interreligious dialogue.

Moojan Momen has argued that the Bahá'í principle of the relativity of religious truth means that any absolute knowledge of ultimate reality is impossible. Consequently, individuals possess no right to claim that their understanding is the only true one in any absolute sense. Of the Divinity, Bahá'u'lláh has written: "Exalted, immeasurably exalted, art Thou above the strivings of mortal man to unravel Thy mystery, to describe Thy glory, or even hint at the nature of Thine Essence." Consequently, all descriptions, all schemata, all attempts to define the nature of God, are limited by the viewpoint of the individual. The theory of "cognitive relativism" is an important approach to deal with conflicting truth claims among the religions. This theory presents the view that the differing ways of conceptualizing the Absolute Reality are each "true" relative to the individual who sincerely makes them. 'Abdu'l-Bahá's commentary of the Islamic tradition "I was a Hidden Treasure" presents the view that no matter how hard an individual strives in an effort to gain a knowledge of the Absolute, the only success is to achieve a better knowledge of his or her own self. 'Abdu'l-Baha likens this state of affairs to a compass: no matter how far the compass travels, it is only going around the point at its center. Similarly, however much human beings may strive for and achieve realms of spiritual knowledge, ultimately they are only attaining a better and greater knowledge of themselves, not of any exterior Absolute.

As to the metaphysical nature of the prophet-founders, Juan Cole discusses the theological implications of the philosophical distinction between the essence of a thing and its attribute made by 'Abdu'l-Baha, rather like the phenomenon-noumenon distinction of Kant, to explain the differences between conceptions of the founders of the world religions: "Essence and attribute have an identical referent, save that attribute is the thing as perceived and conceptualized, and essence is the thing as it is in itself. The essence of a thing uncolored by perceptual intermediaries must remain in some sense unknowable."

This approach can also significantly contribute to reconciling the differences in the representation of the Ultimate among the world's religions. An attempt in this direction has been made with John Hick's complex theory of religious pluralism. Hick hypothesizes that the great world faiths are various responses to the Ultimate, conceived and experienced through differing human perceptions, some in terms of the Deity or Ultimate as personal, and others in terms of the Absolute as non-personal.

A third approach to religious differences is through the principle of complementarity. Cole applies Niels Bohr's principle of complementarity—a conceptual model to explain the observable phenomenon that electrons appear to behave under certain conditions like particles and under other conditions like waves—to explain differing understandings of the historical founders of the world religions: "the Manifestations of God exhibit evidences of both divinity and humanity in much the same way as electrons behave alternately as waves and particles and that as with the latter, so with the former, both models need taken in conjunction if a more complete understanding is to be reached."

The Mystical-Spiritual Bridge. Much writing on interreligious dialogue has been done by individuals who have pioneered theological dialogue. The exchange of theologies is not the fundamental or primary path to mutual understanding, but depends very heavily on some prior experience of the ritual, the life and story. This recollects the thinking of Hans Gadamer and his theory of interpretation, which proposes that the meaning of a dance is in the dancing of it, the meaning of a song is in the singing of it, and the meaning of life in the living. It is only at this level that explanations, theories, and prescriptions convey meaning. Therefore, spiritual dialogue is a primary path to understanding other religions.

This theme was explored by the distinguished Bahá'í writer and dignitary George Townshend, who represented the Bahá'í community at the first World Congress of Faiths in 1936. In his presentation, Townshend explored the importance of mystical experience in demonstrating the unity of religions, the striking "fundamental unity of all mystical experience": "mystics seem all the world over to have gone upon the same spiritual adventure, to be drawn onward by the same experience of an outpoured heavenly love....By what diverse paths have mystics who had nothing in common save whole-hearted servitude before the one loving God, by what diverse paths have they all alike attained the blessed Presence!" Townshend suggests that the example of mystics would lead worshippers in all religions to "find something in the fundamental nature of religion itself which promotes a sweet, precious and abiding sense of true companionship."

I would argue that the Bahá'í community needs to engage in spiritual dialogue for two reasons. It provides a deeper understanding of other religions and an approach demonstrating the unity of religious experience. The mystical-spiritual bridge also addresses a deep need in the Bahá'í community to develop an ambience of spiritality and mysticism in Bahá'í gatherings, services, and commemorative events that can contribute to the creation of a richer community life.

In summary, I have examined three bridges that can link the Bahá'í community to other religions in dialogue. I have proposed that the ethical bridge should focus on tackling obstacles to world peace in cooperative projects with other religious communities. The intellectual bridge needs to confront religious differences and attempt to resolve them. The mystical-spiritual bridge can significantly enrich the nature of Bahá'í community and devotional life and contribute to a Bahá'í theology of religions.
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