“Many Faiths, One Truth”

That’s the title that caught my attention from atop an opinion piece in last week’s New York Times.

You don’t have to be a scholar of religions to understand that the major faiths share some basic teachings.  In this essay the Dalai Lama recounts discussions with scholars and experiences from his travels to demonstrate that compassion is a common tenet among the great religions, even when acts by a few of the “faithful” make it hard for the rest of the world to see that.

He believes recognizing common ground makes us better able to accept differences: “While preserving faith toward one’s own tradition, one can respect, admire and appreciate other traditions.”  He’s arguing for greater tolerance from all people toward the faiths and practices of all other people, and not just for feel-good reasons:

Finding common ground among faiths can help us bridge needless divides at a time when unified action is more crucial than ever. As a species, we must embrace the oneness of humanity as we face global issues like pandemics, economic crises and ecological disaster. At that scale, our response must be as one.

To paraphrase: stop letting differences in religious tradition and practice get in the way of the unity we Earthlings need to embrace.  Don’t throw away the gift while arguing about the pattern on the wrapping paper.

I wish I’d written this

“Religious liberty—the freedom to worship as one chooses, or not to worship—is a central element of the American creed.”  And from there “Newsweek” editor Jon Meacham’s column in this week’s issue lays out the argument—straight down the middle—that the separation of church and state is there for the benefit of both:

The civil and legal cases against religious coercion are well known: human freedom extends to one’s conscience, and by abolishing religious tests for office or mandated observances, Americans have successfully created a climate—a free market, if you will—in which religion can take its stand in the culture and in the country without particular help or harm from the government.

There is a religious case against state involvement with matters of faith, too. Long before Thomas Jefferson, Roger Williams, the founder of Rhode Island, called for a "hedge or wall of separation between the garden of the church and the wilderness of the world," believing, with the Psalmist, that human beings were not to put their trust in princes. The principalities and powers of a fallen world represented and still represent a corrupting threat to religion: too many rulers have used faith to justify and excuse all manner of evil.

Meacham lines up George Washington, John Adams and Thomas Jefferson on the side of the angels in making the case against calling the United States a Christian nation, but a nation where all are free to believe (or not) as they choose.  I know this irks many who see it their duty to evangelize or who misunderstand our history, but that makes it no less true.

Yes, many of the Founders were believing, observant Christians. But to think of them as apostles in knee breeches or as passionate evangelicals is a profound misreading of the past. In many ways their most wondrous legacy was creating the foundations of a culture of religious diversity in which the secular and the religious could live in harmony

As Americans we each have the right to practice a faith of our choosing; why isn’t that good enough?

Don’t believe me? Listen to the faithful

Not to harp on this, but read today’s Maureen Dowd column: after a pointed observation about how the Roman Catholic Church treats its female members, her religiously devout and politically conservative brother eloquently makes the point I was trudging toward a few days ago (“Desperation in a brown cassock,” 4/2/2010):

The church is dying from a thousand cuts. Its cover-up has cost a fortune and been a betrayal worthy of Judas. The money spent came from social programs, Catholic schools and the poor. This should be a sin that cries to heaven for vengeance.

(snip)

The storm within the church strikes at what every Catholic fears most. We take our religion on faith. How can we maintain that faith when our leaders are unworthy of it?

Desperation in a brown cassock

Please cue Mr. Welch: Have you no sense of decency, Father, at long last?  Have you left no sense of decency?

I was saying “no no no no” to myself by the time I finished the lead of today’s story—at long last, Roman Catholic Church, have you no shame?  You can’t save yourself by claiming that the worldwide criticism you’re experiencing now is comparable to anti-Semitism; sorry, Rome, but it just won’t wash.

Jews were, and are, persecuted for being Jews; not for anything they did, but for who they are.

You are being “persecuted” for something you did, and are still doing: choosing not to take action—timely and appropriate action—to stop members of your organization—your employees—from committing crimes against children who weren’t capable of defending themselves.

Before this ends, you’re going to have to acknowledge that the priests who committed these acts are criminals, and the people who protected the organization at the expense of helpless children were wrong, and they need to be punished.

Even the most devout members of your club can see this defense as a pathetic tactic; keep it up and they’ll abandon you, and you’ll deserve it.