David Miscavige, the leader of Scientology
Is it ever okay to criticize a faith? One can think of extreme situations that we can all agree on. The Aum Shinrikyo New Religious Movement (like most religion scholars, I bristle at the use of the term “cult,” since it disparages religions just for being small and new, when older, more established faiths can be just as demanding, particular, or dangerous) released sarin gas in the Tokyo subway in 1995, killing 13 commuters, and probably assassinated a lawyer who was working on a case against them. Perhaps most famously Jim Jones led virtually his entire People’s Temple movement to suicide. There are religions that are, fundamentally, bad.
But even then there are nuances and complexities. For example, the Aum Shinrikyo has since rebranded and distanced themselves from the attacks (and their founder has been executed). If I knew a member of Aleph (the new name of the group) who had renounced violence, would I still consider her religion evil? I don’t know if I have a fully fleshed out schema that incorporates every possibility, but in thinking through this and similar issues (for example, Scientology) I’ve come up with some guiding principles that seem to work in most cases.
First, as faiths are often crucial sources of meaning for people, I’m going to tread more carefully here than I would about a preferred brand of toothpaste. This involves erring on the side of generosity when distinguishing bad things that come out of the faith from the faith itself.
This does not mean ignoring the logical connections between scripture, traditions, authorities, and practices, and bad outcomes. For example, I remember listening to an interview where Bernard Lewis pushed back against the idea that Islamist jihadists were patently misinterpreting their holy texts. He agreed with the sentiment that they were not representative of Islam as a community, but argued there were real, established exegetical threads connecting their actions to their holy texts; their readings and interpretations were not 2+2=5, logically crazy.
But in this case the issue is not that Islam is pathologically violent, but that that particular strand of jihadist interpretation supported by this or that authority is pathologically violent. (As a faith that has been accused by a best-selling book of being fundamentally violent this should strike a cord with us). I’m fine attacking the faith of ISIS as long as I can surgically separate it out from the faith of Muslims in general.
I’m even fine critiquing an entire faith during a certain time and place, but still being cautious about making it about the essence of the faith as a whole. The Columbus Day wars we get every year usually include movie clips from Apocalypto about Mesoamerican human sacrifices; I think I’m safe saying that any religious cosmology that relies on the blood of human sacrifices is bad. One of the most powerful anti-religion essays is M.L. Mencken’s “Memorial Service”
There was a day when Jupiter was the king of the gods, and any man who doubted his puissance was ipso facto a barbarian and an ignoramus. But where in all the world is there a man who worships Jupiter to-day? And what of Huitzilopochtli? In one year–and it is no more than five hundred years ago–50,000 youths and maidens were slain in sacrifice to him. Today, if he is remembered at all, it is only by some vagrant savage [STC: give him some grace, he’s writing this ~100 years ago] in the depths of the Mexican forest…Tezcatilpoca was almost as powerful: He consumed 25,000 virgins a year. Lead me to his tomb: I would weep, and hang a couronne des perles. But who knows where it is?
At this point whatever sense of purpose these Gods gave their followers does not outweigh the cost in human blood. However, I’m not going to impute that badness to modern-day shamans in the highlands of Guatemala whose syncretic spiritual practices borrow from the religious beliefs of those same cultures.
On the flip-side, I’m also hesitant to automatically assume that any bad manifestation of any faith is not “true” Islam, Mormonism, Catholicism, or what have you. Religion at its worse as well as at its best draws from the faith and often from the same sources.
Second, focus on outcomes and not beliefs. Virtually all faiths have weird and sometimes problematic little passages that they have collectively chosen to ignore. Religionists tend to roll their eyes when we hear some argument along the lines of “you must do X because your holy book says Y.” There’s a long interpretive history underneath the surface that is taken for granted when relying on naive surface readings of the text, and you can point out that a particular passage is problematic without assuming it somehow bores into the essential core of the faith.
Perhaps more controversially this is a heuristic I employ for, for example, Scientology. I don’t care for the current organization because of the abuses that have happened under it and its leaders’ watches, but in principle I could see me not having any issues with a later, post-David Miscavige Scientology in the same way I have no problem with highland Mayan shamans.
My disdain here has nothing to do with their beliefs, and I bristle at the “appeal to weirdness” with Scientology when people bring up, say, Xenu or DC-8 airliners. Again, as a faith that is often attacked using the “appeal to weirdness” we should think twice about imposing the same on others. As is often noted, weirdness is relative. In 1990s Utah gold plates are the most normal thing in the world, in 17th century Italy so are churches built around the body parts of dead saints, and much of modern secular ideology would be weird by any pre-19th century standard. Weirdness itself is not any kind of argument against validity.
One last point I’ll make on this is that even if the interpretation of beliefs are themselves problematic, we should be generous about not letting that tar the entire belief system. It’s not bad or inaccurate to simply point out that the Nation of Islam is clearly antisemitic and should change on that point, but we should give them the benefit of the doubt about that not being their defining feature and being able to isolate that out.
In my opinion, one of the most atrocious religious beliefs ever invented by mankind–greater than any racist, crazy, or hateful doctrine, is the relatively mainstream belief that God physically tortures people for eternity for believing the wrong things, not having been baptized, or this or that thing. If I can break bread and respect parts of the religious faith of people who think that God is going to hold me over an open flame for eternity, then I can deal with a lot of other beliefs.
Comments
9 responses to “When is it Okay to Criticize Another Faith?”
Your last paragraph! I have privately thought that the belief in a God who is like this has to be responsible for so much of the violence that plagues our culture. It feels blasphemous to me. With a God so evil why do you even need Satan? To me worshipping this version of God would be impossible. What does it do to the way you view other people when you believe that God is willing to torture them for eternity?
For me it’s the video clips of charismatic worship services that occasionally pop up on social media. No, it’s not a mode of worship that resonates with me in the least. But I guess it works for some people, and I have a lot to lose if an appeal to weirdness is considered a valid religious critique.
There are varieties of religious hucksterism that are bad and should be criticized, but maybe the majority of critiques I’ve seen – of apocalypticism, or Christian Nationalism, or the prosperity gospel – do a poor job of distinguishing actual abuses from basic Christian beliefs. (“You think God will just give you this day and your daily bread if you pray for them? Prosperity gospel!”)
E: Honestly, I don’t think people really sit with how long eternity is or how atrocious torture is. There was a quote whose source I can’t remember that said something to the effect that if people really believed in eternal conscious torment they would be driven mad.
Jonathan Green: Amen, hopefully critiques of the abuses will take more sophisticated form than they have in the past, where it’s hard to see where the legitimate critique begins and bigoted resentment against a certain kind of white religionist begins.
The inability to wrap their head around “eternal conscious torment” may well be what drove Joseph Smith Sr. away from organized religion, and part of what drove Joseph Smit Jr. to the grove.
Regarding how long eternity is, perhaps read Steve Peck’s “A Short Stay in Hell” — really makes you think about it.
Could one have legitimately criticized our church for “pathological” violence in the aftermath of the Mountain Meadows Massacre? (NB: Not an American Primieval question in disguise.)
What work is being done by “pathological”? Does it mean endemically or inevitably or invariably violent? Or is it just an intensifier suggesting “really” violent?
ISIS Islam is pretty tightly intertwined with a particular interpretation of jihad, so in that sense it is “pathological” in that it is a fundamental part of its core (although obviously some of that is question begging about what is “fundamental”). John D. Lee and Isaac Haight freaked out because members of the Baker-Fancher wagon train recognized them after shots had been fired, so the MMM was essentially a botched attempt at a cover-up more than some natural extension of Latter-day Saint theology. On the other-hand, there are those stories of people who were killed in pioneer Utah in ways suggestive of the temple penalties. I don’t know enough to know about those cases to know how reliable that accusation is, but if that is what happened then yes, the beliefs of those murderers would be a pathologically violent strain of Mormonism in the same way that ISIS is a pathologically violent strain of Islam.
I’m was on a mission in the mid-1960’s. Our discussions certainly implied a criticism of other religions. I wish our approach had been more of a Christian message.
Additionally, during the 60’s, the temple ceremony overtly referred to the Catholic church as the church of the devil. That has thankfully been eliminated from the script. And now we frequently have joint projects with the Catholic church.
Pres. Oaks recently referred to secular humanism as the church (beliefs) of the devil. I’m for continuing to lower the heat when discussing religious beliefs.
based