The Word “Religion”

The Meaning and End of Religion (1962) — declared “a modern classic” by John Hick — is probably the most important of the many writings by the Canadian historian and theologian Wilfred Cantwell Smith. In this book, Smith presents a complex and subtle argument to explain his proposal for how the academic study of religion ought to be approached by scholars and students alike.

An important element in Smith’s argument is the claim that the emergence of the notion of ”religion” as a systematic and coherent entity is a very recent — and a very modern – phenomenon. To highlight the uniqueness of the modern concept, Smith spends the better part of an entire chapter tracing the history of the word “religion” in the Latin West. Here, I will restrict my comments to section v of chapter 2, where Smith offers three case studies to illustrate how the word “religion” was understood in Latin Christendom during the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries.

Smith’s three case studies are as follows: (1) Marsilio Ficino’s work De Christiana Religione from 1474, (2) Ulrich Zwingli’s work De Vera et Falsa Religione Commentarius from 1525, and (3) John Calvin’s work Christiane Religionis Institutio from 1536.

Marsilio Ficino (1433-1499) was an influential philosopher during the European Renaissance, a translator into Latin of the writings of Plato and Plotinus. Smith notes that the phrase Christiana Religione was “relatively new” when Ficino used it, and that it “subsequently became common and has remained so, but with a profound change of meaning” (p. 33). Smith goes on to describe what this phrase meant to Ficino, contrasting it to what it has come to mean now.

Today, we are likely to translate the phrase Christiana Religione as “the Christian religion,” and understand it as a synonym for “Christianity.” This is so because today we understand the word “religion” as meaning “any system of doctrines and practices, any institutional phenomenon or historical development, one of ‘the religions’ of the world.” This meaning of the word “religion,” Smith argues, was “certainly not in Ficino’s mind.”

When we think of “the religions” (in the plural), we are thinking of the variety of ways in which people express their religiosity. Ficino understood this idea very well, but he did not use the word religio to describe it; instead, he used the phrase ritus adorationis. On the one hand, Ficino believed that human beings practice, and have practiced, many different “ways of adoring God.” He thought that God Himself had allowed such diversity, and that it was good and desirable. On the other hand, he used the word religio to indicate something unchanging and stable. According to Smith, “That to which Ficino gives the name religio . . . is universal to man; it is, indeed, the fundamental distinguishing human characteristic, innate, natural, and primary.” While there are many different “ways of adoring God,” Ficino believed that there was only one religio.

Smith suggests that we render Ficino’s sense of the word religio by using the English word “religiousness.” Given that Ficino was a Platonist, he assumed the classical distinction between the perfect “ideal” and the imperfect “actual.” As a Platonist, Ficino believed that “the veritable form is ideal” and that “the actual occurrences in human history in the lives of men and women are more or less inadequate, approximative, more or less untrue instances of that ideal.”

Consequently, Ficino understood that religio is not, and cannot be, of different types. In its absolute perfection, religio exists only in the world of forms; what we have here on earth are the countless human attempts aimed at enacting that ideal within the messy confines of history. In other words, religio in human actuality necessarily falls short of its ideal perfection, which is why it is found in the human realm “in differing degrees of genuineness,” as Smith puts it. Since religio is good, Ficino thought that it was better to have it in a small quantity, or in a low grade of genuineness, than to not have it at all.

Next, Smith looks at the word Chrstiana as used by Ficino in the phrase Christiana religio. He argues that it makes a great deal of difference whether we translate this phrase as “the Christian religion” or as “Christian religion.” In the former instance, the presence of the definite article indicates the contemporary sense of the word “Christian” as pertaining to Christians or Christianity. In the latter instance, the absence of the definite article indicates the original sense of the word “Christian” as pertaining to Christ. As a result, the English phrase “the Christian religion” assumes the modern sense of “religion” as a systematic and coherent entity and can therefore be understood as signifying “Christianity.” In contrast, the phrase “Christian religion” does not assume the modern understanding of “religion,” and, consequently, signifies something far more profound, namely, the kind of religiousness that was “exemplified and taught” by Christ. Regarding the distinction between “the Christian religion” and “Christian religion,” Smith notes:

The difference is not minor. Not only by religio did Ficino not mean what is today referred to in the phrase ‘the Christian religion’; it would also be altogether meaningful to ask whether that to which today this latter phrase objectively refers is ‘Christian’ in Ficino’s understanding of that term.

Smith’s question may be paraphrased as follows: How much of what we today call “Christianity” actually pertains to Christ?

Smith’s next two case studies are from the period in European history known as the Reformation. The first of these is the book De Vera et Falsa Religione Commentarius (1525) by the Swiss Protestant reformer Ulrich Zwingli (1484-1531). The title can be translated as “An Essay on True and False Religion.” The issue at stake, once again, is the meaning of the word “religion,” this time as used by Zwingli. Given the modern understanding of “religion” as a systematic and coherent entity, and given the reality of many different “religions” in the world, Zwingli’s title may suggest to an unsuspecting modern reader that his book argues for the validity of Christianity over and against Judaism, Islam, Buddhism, and so on. This, however, is very far from the meaning that Zwingli had in mind. By “true religion,” Zwingli did not mean a systematic and coherent entity called “Christianity,” and by “false religion” he did not mean other systematic and coherent entities such as “Judaism,” “Islam,” “Buddhism,” and so on. This is because in the sixteenth century the modern concept of “religion” as a thing-like entity with definite boundaries has not yet emerged. Smith notes:

By this title he is not maintaining that Christianity is a true religion, other religions false. Neither he nor Calvin seems to use the term ‘Christianity’ at all. The opening sentence of Zwingli’s work announces firmly that it will deal ‘with the true and false religio of Christians’. For him, religio is a relation between man and God. It is established when man comes to trust God who in His mercy reaches out toward him. False religio, or as he calls it, false piety or superstition, is found therefore when anything is trusted as God other than He. (p. 35)

Like Ficino, Zwingli used the word religio not to indicate a systematic and coherent entity but to indicate a particular human quality; we may render his sense of religio as religiousness, faithfulness, or piety. Indeed, what he calls false religio comes rather close to our modern understanding of “religion.” Smith explains:

For Zwingli, false religion is an oversanctifictaion of popes, councils, church authorities, and the like; a giving honour to the mundane organization through which the divine is mediated instead of the divine itself. To use our modern terminology, one might almost represent Zwingli as introducing the concept of ‘false religion’ precisely to characterize the tendency whereby men give their allegiance to religion rather than to God. (p. 35)

This last idea is important enough to deserve repetition: False religiousness is the tendency of people to “give their allegiance to religion rather than to God.” The significance of Smith’s (and Zwingli’s) insight can be appreciated by noticing its contemporary relevance. Today, it is not uncommon to meet people who describe themselves as “spiritual but not religious,” and who say that they believe in a “higher power” but are not too excited about “organized religion.” Perhaps such people have a genuine thirst for what Smith calls “religiousness” and what Zwingli calls “true religion,” and yet they have grown increasingly dissatisfied with the rituals, institutions, and social forms of their religious tradition. The real cause of their dissatisfaction, however, is not necessarily the “mundane organization through which the divine is mediated.” Perhaps what has made them dissatisfied with “organized religion” is not the fact of religion being organized, but the human tendency to absolutize the means (the organized aspects of religion) while forgetting or disregarding the end (religiousness, faithfulness, or piety). This is tantamount to giving one’s allegiance to a particular religious system, as opposed to giving one’s allegiance — for lack of a better word — to ”God.”

Smith notes that the title of Zwingli’s book is best rendered into English as “An essay on genuine and spurious piety” (p. 37).

Smith’s third case study is the famous and highly influential work by John Calvin (1509-1564), Christianae Religionis Institutio, first published in 1536. According to Smith, one consequence of the widespread influence of Calvin’s work, especially in its catechism form, was the increasing use of the word religio and the phrase Christiana religio by the end of the sixteenth century. Calvin’s work was translated into English in the nineteenth century under the title “Institutes of the Christian Religion,” a title that Smith believes represents a “serious misinterpretation.”

For one thing, institutio meant ‘instruction’, instituting, setting up, establishing . . . . Furthermore, religio is certainly not ‘one of the religions’, an over, institutional phenomenon nor an abstract system. It is rather, as with the other writers that we have observed, the sense of piety that prompts a man to worship. It is innate in everyman, and is the one characteristic that lifts man above the brutes. It is an inner personal attitude.

Smith goes on to suggest that the title of Calvin’s magnum opus is best rendered into English as “Grounding in Christian piety” (p. 37).

All three case studies serve to illustrate and substantiate Smith’s argument that the contemporary meaning of the word “religion” has emerged gradually during the early modern period. Before the seventeenth century, the word “religion” was used to indicate a particular human quality, namely faith or piety. In this sense of the word, the use of the plural form, “the religions,” would have been absurd. It was only through a gradual — and peculiarly modern — process of reification that the word “religion” came to designate not an inner, personal attitude that people have, but a well-defined and impersonal system of beliefs and practices.

Between “Deed” and “Idea” (2)

By saying that the Qur’an emphasizes “deed” rather than “idea,” Iqbal has identified for us what is perhaps the very essence of revelation.

Muslims take the Qur’an as containing the revelations that came from God to Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). The phenomenon of revelation, however, is not unique to Islam, and the Qur’an itself confirms that many individuals had been the recipients of such divine revelation in the past. This fact allows us to examine the phenomenon of revelation in a comparative perspective. When we look at the revelations found in the Hebrew Scriptures and the New Testament, and compare them with the revelations that we have in the form of the Qur’an, we are struck by the fact that all these revealed texts have one characteristic in common: They are invariably aimed at encouraging and facilitating some form of personal transformation.

The purpose of revelation is guidance, and the most important form of guidance that human beings need is practical guidance. Revealed texts are therefore meant to answer the most urgent of all questions, i.e., “how should I live?” While revelation provides theoretical guidance as well, the latter is discussed not for its own sake but mainly for its practical implications. In other words, the primary function of revelation is such that it is most clearly served when the revelation speaks in the imperative mode, as in the commandment “You shall have no other gods before me” (Exodus 20:3), or in the saying of Jesus “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Luke 9:23). Even when the revelation speaks in the declarative mode, its aim is not simply to provide us with information but rather to transform us in some important way. For instance, when we are told: “God, there is no god except He . . .” (Qur’an 2:255), the revelation is not merely informing us that there is only one God; rather, it is reminding us of the attitude we are supposed to adopt given that there is only one God. In the same way, when the Qur’an narrates the stories of previous prophets or informs us of the punishments of hell and the blessings of paradise, its purpose is not to add more data to our minds; the purpose, rather, is to help us transform ourselves in the desired ways.

To claim that revelation does not emphasize “ideas” is to suggest that holding the right beliefs is not one of its central concerns. In the ordinary, non-technical sense of the word, “believing” refers to giving intellectual assent to certain ideas. While it is important to hold the right beliefs, or believe in the right ideas, this in itself does not provide any guarantee that personal transformation will actually take place. It is all too common for people to hold one set of ideas as true, while living their lives as if those ideas were entirely false. It would appear that people tend to hold not one but two sets of ideas in their minds: (1) ideas that they believe they hold, and (2) ideas that actually guide their choices and conduct. From the viewpoint of revelation, holding ideas that do not shape our lives is ultimately worthless even when they are objectively true. For there is no benefit in “knowing” a truth if one does not “understand” it, and there is no benefit in “understanding” a truth if it does not guide one’s attitudes, priorities, habits, and values. A truth that is held in the mind but not embodied is no better than a treasure that we own but cannot spend.

Revelation is definitely concerned with transforming our beliefs, but it is even more concerned with transforming our choices and conduct. From the viewpoint of revelation, only those of our beliefs are relevant that actually shape our lived reality, i.e., beliefs that actively determine our “deeds.”

Iqbal’s use of the word “deed” is such that it cannot be substituted by the word “action.” This is because he seems to have used the word “deed” in a much more comprehensive sense than what the word “action” would suggest. Nor should we think of “deed” as something that is diametrically opposed to “faith.” On the contrary, the words “faith” and “deed” are very nearly synonymous for Iqbal. I have been led to this conclusion because of three statements that Iqbal makes in the very first paragraph of The Reconstruction, immediately following the preface:

The essence of religion . . . is faith . . . .

. . . the transformation and guidance of man’s inner and outer life is the essential aim of religion . . . .

Religion is not a departmental affair; it is neither mere thought, nor mere feeling, nor mere action; it is an expression of the whole man.

That “faith” is the essence of religion is not an insignificant matter, for this implies that whatever is true of religion in general must be true of faith, if not truer. Consequently, if the purpose of religion is to guide and transform all aspects of human life, and if the essence of religion happens to be faith, then it would be a serious mistake to conceive of faith in a narrow or partial manner. What Iqbal says explicitly about religion he implicitly says about faith as well: Faith is neither mere thought, nor mere feeling, nor mere action; it is an expression of the whole person. For Iqbal, faith is the personal transformation that constitutes the “essential aim” of religion, as well as the means through which that aim is pursued.

If we can conceive of faith in this broad and comprehensive Iqbalian sense, then we can also appreciate the partial and limited nature of belief. Faith is an expression of the whole person — the sum total of one’s attitudes, priorities, habits, and values, as well as of one’s choices and conduct – while belief is merely an idea that a person holds in his or her mind. While it is obviously better to hold a true belief than a false one, holding a true belief is not the same thing as achieving the “essential aim” of religion, i.e., personal transformation.

When Iqbal says that the Qur’an emphasizes “deed” as opposed to “idea,” he is basically telling us that the Qur’an is far more concerned with “faith” than it is with “belief.”

Between “Deed” and “Idea” (1)

When Iqbal published his lectures on “the reconstruction of religious thought in Islam,” he decided to add a brief preface. The preface begins with the following statement:

The Qur’an is a book which emphasizes ‘deed’ rather than ‘idea’.

This is a significant statement, considering where it appears: in the preface to a book which is all about ideas! Introducing a highly theoretical work that addresses the nuances of Islamic as well as Western thought in the areas of metaphysics, theology, and ethics, Iqbal found it necessary to confess that the world of ideas — thought — is not something that’s terribly important from the Qur’anic viewpoint. After acknowledging that ideas do not constitute a central concern of the Qur’an, Iqbal went on to argue in the same preface why it is nevertheless necessary that we pay attention to ideas.

Iqbal’s statement about where the Qur’an puts its primary emphasis is significant for several other reasons as well. For instance, it demonstrates an element of critical self-awareness on Iqbal’s part. He knew perfectly well, and was able to acknowledge in writing, that his own emphasis on religious thought was not in perfect harmony with the Qur’anic emphasis on what he called “deed.”

Perhaps the important question from the reader’s viewpoint is this: Is Iqbal’s statement correct? Is it really true that the Qur’an emphasizes “deed” rather than “idea”? The claim may sound counter-intuitive to many Muslims, who may want to argue that the Qur’an does pay sufficient attention to ideas. Thus, when the Qur’an speaks about God and God’s attributes, or narrates the stories of previous prophets, or informs us of the punishments of hell and the blessings of paradise — isn’t it obvious that in all these matters the Qur’an is discussing what may be called beliefs? And isn’t it true that beliefs are made up of ideas? If they are not ideas, what else could they be?

The term that most Muslims use for religious beliefs is ‘aqa’id, plural of ‘aqidah. The contemporary use of the word ‘aqidah is such that it is practically a synonym for what Christians call “creed.” Strictly speaking, a “creed” is not the same thing as “belief.” A community can have a wide range of beliefs at any given moment, but when a particular understanding of what everyone is supposed to believe is expressed in a particular verbal formula by a religious authority, the resulting declaration of belief is called a creed. Thus, the Latin version of the Nicene Creed begins with the words “Credo in unum Deum,” we believe in one God, indicating the declarative and public (or communal) nature of a creed. During most of Christian history, matters of creed were typically very important, in that whether or not one professed the right creed was the main factor in differentiating between orthodoxy and heresy (in some cases, this could mean the difference between life and death).

In the Islamic instance, the term ‘aqidah is normally taken as suggesting a particular formulation of religious belief as articulated by a particular religious authority — and this is exactly how the term “creed” is normally defined. For our present purposes, however, whether we call the particular formulation in question a “creed” or a “belief” makes little difference; for whichever term we choose, the critical issue is that the actual content of ‘aqidah is widely assumed to be either an idea or a set of ideas.

Given that idea is the substance that is believed to constitute any particular ‘aqidah, and given that having the right ‘aqidah is taken to mean holding certain specific ideas as true, we can see how Iqbal’s statement appears to belittle the importance of ‘aqidah. When Iqbal says that “The Qur’an is a book which emphasizes ‘deed’ rather than ‘idea,’” what he is clearly implying is that, from the Qur’anic perspective, matters of ‘aqidah are not all that worthy of our attention. This is obviously a claim that is in sharp contrast to what a significant proportion of Muslims seem to hold.

Nowadays, a great deal of emphasis is being placed in many Muslim circles on having the “correct ‘aqidah,” and a great deal of intellectual effort is spent on fulfilling this goal. Many Muslims show a strong attachment to their own understanding of what they take to be the one “correct ‘aqidah,” and some are not reluctant at all to criticize and condemn alternative understandings as absolutely unacceptable. In some extreme cases, it would appear as if having the “correct ‘aqidah” is of ultimate significance for one’s salvation — as if going to hell or reaching the paradise is primarily a question of holding in one’s mind the correct wording of particular religious ideas.

Given this widespread emphasis on religious ideas, Iqbal’s statement implies a sharp critique of the attitude that defines the very meaning of religion for many contemporary Muslims. If his statement turns out to be true, it would demand from contemporary Muslims fundamental changes in how they approach their religious lives.

How can we find out whether or not Iqbal’s statement is correct? An important consideration is that the word ‘aqidah, in the sense of a particular articulation of a religious belief — that is to say, a “creed” — does not appear in the Qur’an. In his book “Faith and Belief” (1979), Wilfred Cantwell Smith makes the following observation:

The root ‘aqada, “to tie a knot”, either literally or in the figurative sense of binding a person by a legal or moral commitment, making a binding engagement, occurs seven times in the Qur’an: twice as the verb and five times as a noun. The words ‘aqidah, ‘aqa’id do not occur. (p. 196)

Of course, just because a word does not appear in the Qur’an is no proof, by itself, that there is something religiously illegitimate about the concept it represents. But that is precisely where the problem resides, for the actual concept behind the word ‘aqidah is very often not grasped too well by contemporary Muslims. To quote Smith once again:

Furthermore, I have found in working on mediaeval kalam texts that the VIIIth form i’taqadah, which does not occur in the Qur’an but is introduced into theology later, along with ‘aqidah, ‘aqa’id, in the sense of “creed”, begins there by meaning not “to believe” something but rather more literally to bind oneself, to commit or to pledge oneself to, to take on the engagement of living in accord with a given position; and that only gradually across the centuries does it eventually acquire the more neutral meaning of “to believe” something intellectually. This last comes quite late in the mediaeval period and is perhaps not common until early modern times. (p.196)

What Smith is pointing out in the above quotation is a problem common to all religious traditions that rely on written texts. As time passes, the texts remain static but the language keeps changing. The result is that in the later part of a tradition’s history, texts written in the earlier part tend to become increasingly incomprehensible. This is especially problematic when a later-day reader feels confident that he or she is interpreting an old text exactly as it was intended to be understood, but is doing so without taking into account the glaring fact that the denotations and connotations of words do not remain static over hundreds of years. The word ‘aqidah and related words were initially used by Muslim theologians and jurists in the sense of making a commitment to one or the other side of a controversial issue; as time passed, Muslims continued to use these words but increasingly in the sense of holding certain ideas in one’s mind. According to Smith, while this trend can be found in the late medieval period, it probably did not become dominant until the early modern period.

To reiterate, the widespread sense of ‘aqidah as an idea to which one gives intellectual assent is very different from the original sense of the word as used by classical Muslim theologians and jurists. Nowadays, the vast majority of Muslims use the word ‘aqidah in a way that makes it a virtual synonym for religious “belief” or, more precisely, for “creed.” (I have in mind the modern meanings of these two words, not their premodern meanings.)

One can justify the religious legitimacy of the classical sense of ‘aqidah by appealing to arguments that are ultimately based on the Qur’an. One can also justify the modern sense of ‘aqidah as believing something intellectually or holding certain ideas in one’s mind. What one cannot justify is the assumption that the contemporary meaning of ‘aqidah is identical with what our classical authorities had in mind when they used that word. Integrity demands that one acknowledges that an important shift in the meaning of this word has taken place during the centuries that separate us from the authors of our classical texts.

In light of this discussion, what is the significance of Iqbal’s opening statement in the preface to his major work? When Iqbal suggests that the Qur’an does not emphasize idea, he is saying that the Qur’an does not concern itself with matters of ‘aqidah – in the modern sense of the word. To put his claim in slightly different language, Iqbal is saying that the Qur’an does not concern itself with matters of belief, including religious belief. Obviously, this claim also applies to what is called a “creed,” insofar as a creed is understood to be a formalized expression of religious belief. Iqbal is saying that, instead of focusing its attention on matters of ‘aqidah, belief, or creed, the Qur’an focuses its attention on something else. This something else Iqbal calls “deed.”

An important caveat is necessary at this point. Notice Iqbal’s use of the word “emphasis,” which is crucial in interpreting his statement about the Qur’an. Iqbal is not saying that the Qur’an pays absolutely no attention to ideas. Given that Iqbal himself makes ample use of the Qur’anic text in discussing a wide range of ideas, it would be a blatant error on his part if he were to make such a claim. What he is saying is simply that the Qur’an does not emphasize ideas. In other words, the primary aim of the Qur’an does not consist in informing us as to which ideas we ought to hold in our minds and which ones we must not hold in our minds; yet, this fact does not mean that the Qur’an is entirely indifferent to ideas. Ultimately, it’s a matter of priorities. While the Qur’an does suggest many things that qualify as ideas, the primary aim of the Qur’an lies elsewhere, in the realm of “deed.” This is important for Muslims to understand because the priorities of the Qur’an are supposed to become our own priorities.

Faith and Belief (5)

The relation between faith and belief is dialectical: (1) belief is one of the forms in which faith is expressed, (2) belief is one of the sources from which faith is nourished.

Faith and Belief (4)

Having looked at the two meanings of belief, let us now consider the word faith. Unlike belief, whose meaning changed drastically during the seventeenth century, the word faith has retained much of its original meaning in modern English. Yet, the two words are often used inaccurately as synonyms, thereby adding to the confusion and giving rise to a distorted view of religion.

Faith and Belief (3)

In the previous post, I briefly discussed the contemporary meaning of the word belief. As Wilfred Cantwell Smith notes, the modern sense of believing essentially involves “the holding of certain ideas” in one’s mind. Furthermore, Smith shows that the modern usage of the word believing assumes and implies that it is some thing very different from what is normally called knowing.

Faith and Belief (2)

In his book Faith and Belief (1979), the Canadian scholar Wilfred Cantwell Smith analyzes these two terms from a variety of angles, including the history of their usage. Smith notes that many people use the words faith and belief in a more or less interchangeable manner, as if they were synonyms; yet, the two words have very different meanings in contemporary English.

Faith and Belief (1)

Two of the most fundamental questions with which human beings must grapple are as follows: “How should I live?” and “How do I know?”

The Politician’s Speech (5)

On May 24, the Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu delivered a speech to a joint session of the US Congress, a speech that I find endlessly fascinating. I previously posted four installments of my analysis of this speech, trying to decipher (with some help from George Orwell) Netanyahu’s use of such words as “peace,” “friend,” “security,” and “state.” If you assumed that my discussion of Netanyahu’s speech was over, you were not alone; I too thought that there was nothing more to be said — until I realized that I hadn’t addressed the crux of the matter.

The Politician’s Speech (4)

When politicians speak, we ought to listen — but we must listen attentively, critically, and with the understanding that their language is designed to mask the truth rather than reveal it. I am beginning to realize that listening to a politician’s speech is probably as much of an art as speaking like one.

The Politician’s Speech (3)

As I continue a close reading of Benjamin Netanyahu’s speech to the US Congress, I am learning to appreciate just how relevant George Orwell is for our understanding of contemporary politics. In this post, I will draw upon Orwell’s work once again in order to explain what Netanyahu really means when he uses words like “peace,” “stability,” and “security.” But first I would like to expand upon a theme that I had mentioned in an earlier post, i.e., the way in which Netanyahu’s speech creates a stark dichotomy between “our side” and “their side.” This discussion will set the stage for an Orwellian analysis of Netanyahu’s political language.

The Politician’s Speech (2)

In my previous post, I commented on Benjamin Netanyahu’s repeated use of the word “friend” during his speech to the US Congress. I tried to apply a hermeneutic of suspicion in order to reveal what is really going on when he says something like “Israel has no better friend than America, and America has no better friend than Israel.” I would now like to draw upon George Orwell’s work to further illuminate the Israeli Prime Minister’s use of the word “friend.”

The Politician’s Speech (1)

On Thursday, Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu addressed a joint session of the US Congress. His performance, while not worthy of an Academy Award, does seem to deserve whatever is the topmost prize in the world of political chicanery.

Is God’s Love Unconditional?

Most Christians are likely to answer this question with an emphatic “yes.”  Most Muslims, on the other hand, are likely to respond with an equally clear  ”no.”  Despite the starkness of the Christian “yes” and the Muslim “no,” I would like to suggest that the two approaches are neither contradictory nor irreconcilable.  In fact, I would like to go so far as to say that, at least on this particular issue, there is no essential conflict between the Biblical logic and the Qur’anic logic.

Quarreling over Names and Shapes

People disagree!

Some of our disagreements are the result of our diverse tastes, values, preferences, and perspectives; these disagreements may be mitigated, tolerated, accepted, or celebrated, but they are unlikely to disappear.  Other disagreements are the result of the limitations of our sense perception and/or shortcomings in our reasoning capacity; these disagreements are neither inevitable nor permanent, for these can be eliminated, to a lesser or greater degree, with the help of appropriate tools and methods.

Guess who’s not Coming to Dinner Tonight!

According to the US Code (Title 5, Section 6103) the fourth Thursday in November is to be celebrated as a national holiday, otherwise known as “Thanksgiving Day.”  The exact origin of this tradition is a matter of some debate, though we know that it was President Abraham Lincoln who first gave it official recognition in 1863.  The exact date of the celebration has moved around a bit, until it was fixed by President Franklin D. Roosevelt in 1941.  

Islam as News

Earlier today, I had an opportunity to speak at the “Science, Religion, and Lunch Seminar” (SRLS), which is held on a weekly basis at the North Dakota State University in Fargo, ND.  The following is (more or less) what I said:

The Secrets of the Self (6)

In the final paragraph of his summary of Asrar-e Khudi, Iqbal addresses one of his favorite themes–the ideal human personality whose manifestation on a large-scale would represent the culmination of millions of years of spiritual evolution. 

The Secrets of the Self (5)

I can no longer recall exactly how or why I started commenting upon Iqbal’s philosophical summary of Asrar-e Khudi.  Regardless of the original motivation, the whole exercise has benefited me tremendously.  For instance, I have become much more aware of the significance of believing in an afterlife.

The Secrets of the Self (4)

Finally, Iqbal turns to practical ethics.  We have already seen that the summum bonum for Iqbal is the integrity of khudi.  There is nothing more important than strengthening the ego, which is precisely what allows it to achieve genuine freedom as well as immortality.