America and the Challenges of Religious Diversity

America

AND THE CHALLENGES OF RELIGIOUS DIVERSITY

America

AND THE CHALLENGES OF

RELIGIOUS DIVERSITY

ROBERT WUTHNOW

PRINCETON UNIVERSITY PRESS

Princeton and Oxford

Copyright © 2005 by Princeton University Press

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Paperback ISBN-13: 978-0-691-13411-6

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Wuthnow, Robert.

America and the challenges of religious diversity / Robert Wuthnow.

p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references and index.

ISBN-13: 978-0-691-11976-2 (cloth : alk. paper)

ISBN-10: 0-691-11976-7 (cloth : alk. paper)

1. Christianity and other religions. 2. Religious pluralism.

3. United States—Religion. I. Title.

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CONTENTS

List of Tables

Preface

Introduction

Confronting Diversity

Chapter 1

A Special People in a Diverse World

First Encounters

Toward a New Nation

From Missions to Comparative Religion

The Tripartite Settlement

Beyond Christian America?

Chapter 2

The New Diversity

American Hindus

American Buddhists

American Muslims

Living among Christians

Pluralism or Coexistence?

Chapter 3

The Significance of Religious Diversity

A Threat to Democracy?

Fairness and Decency

Challenges to American Values

Religion as Moral Order

Chapter 4

Embracing Diversity: Shopping in the Spiritual Marketplace

Trev Granger’s Story

Becoming a Spiritual Shopper

The Shopping Mentality

Toward a New Consciousness?

Chapter 5

Many Mansions: Accepting Diversity

Sandra Michaelson: Beauty in Every Religion

Coming to Terms with Diversity

How to Be an Inclusive Christian

Envisioning an Inclusive Society

Chapter 6

One Way: Resisting Diversity

Trisha Mobley: It Is Written

The Road to Resistance

Maintaining an Exclusivist Worldview

The Social Implications of Christian Exclusivim

Chapter 7

The Public’s Beliefs and Practices

Beliefs about Religious Truth

Views of America

The Impact of Non-Western Religions

Social and Cultural Factors

Interreligious Contact and Attitudes

Interreligious Programs

Conclusions

Chapter 8

How Congregations Manage Diversity

What Churches Are Doing

The Role of Theology

Strategies of Avoidance

Strategies of Engagement

The Imprint of Pluralism

Beyond Insularity?

Chapter 9

Negotiating Religiously Mixed Marriages

Falling in Love

Negotiating with Religious Authorities

The Parsing of Practices

Disaggregating Religious Identities

The Normalization of Diversity

From Religion to Culture

Chapter 10

How Pluralistic Should We Be?

Reflective Pluralism

The Case for Cooperation

An Effort to Promote Understanding

Multiple Models

Why Interreligious Efforts Fail

How Interreligious Efforts Succeed

What Else Needs to Be Done

Extrapolating to Other Kinds of Diversity

The Challenges Ahead

Notes

Selected Bibliography

Index

TABLES

TABLE   1. Beliefs about Sources of Religious Truth

TABLE   2. Beliefs about Christianity and Christian Teachings

TABLE   3. Views about America

TABLE   4. Influences on Thinking about Religion or Spirituality

TABLE   5. Familiarity with Teachings of Selected Religious Groups

TABLE   6. Religious, Cultural, and Demographic Characteristics

TABLE   7. Contact with Religious and Ethnic Minority Groups

TABLE   8. Perceptions of Religious Minority Groups

TABLE   9. Views toward Stronger Presence of Religious and Ethnic Groups

TABLE 10. Acceptance of Minority Religious Groups

TABLE 11. Evangelistic Activities

TABLE 12. Views about Interreligious Programs

TABLE 13. Participation in Interreligious Programs

PREFACE

This book is concerned with how we as individuals and as a nation are responding to the challenges of increasing religious and cultural diversity. Questions about racial and ethnic differences and questions about the impact of immigration have attracted extraordinary interest in recent years. Questions about religion and its cultural effects are just as important. They involve beliefs and convictions, assumptions about good and evil, individual and group identities, and concerns about how to live together. These questions were not resolved during the nation’s formative era. And they certainly have not faded away. The growing presence of American Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and other new immigrant groups makes these questions more pressing than ever. The United States has a strong tradition respecting the rights of diverse religious communities. But American culture is also a product of its distinctive Christian heritage. This heritage exists in tension with the nation’s religious and cultural diversity.

The tension between America’s Christian heritage and its religious and cultural diversity became evident in the days following the September 11, 2001, attacks on the Pentagon and World Trade Center. In a speech to Congress, President Bush declared to Muslims, We respect your faith. Yet Bush had also said that only Christians have a place in heaven. How did he reconcile these views? What did he mean by respect?

An apparent inconsistency in political rhetoric like this would hardly merit attention were it not for the fact that it points to something much deeper. American identity is an odd mixture of religious particularism and cultural pluralism. Although it is not an established religion, Christianity is the nation’s majority religion, and its leaders and followers have often claimed it had special, if not unique, access to divine truth. Yet the reality of religious pluralism, including beliefs and practices different from those embraced by Christianity, has also had a profound impact on American culture. These strands of our national identity are not just contradictory or conflicting impulses. They are inextricably bound together in ways that feed our collective imagination and evoke questions about who we are.

Through a large number of in-depth interviews, data from a new national survey, and published materials about the past and present, I examine the terms in which the relationship between America’s Christian heritage and its growing religious diversity is being debated. I emphasize the perceptions of ordinary Americans as well as those of community leaders and the languages in which these perceptions are framed. I argue that interpretations of religious diversity have been, and continue to be, a profound aspect of our national identity.

It has become popular among social observers to argue that American religion is so thoroughly composed of private beliefs and idiosyncratic practices that belief and practice ultimately do not matter. People pick and choose in whatever way helps them to get ahead (or, at least, to get along). Their beliefs are so shallow that inconsistencies make no difference. Some observers also argue that Americans can hold fundamentally incommensurate beliefs in their personal lives, but live amicably in public. This is a recent litany in the literature on pluralism. Let religious subgroups believe whatever they want to, the argument goes, but count on laws and norms of civic decorum to maintain social order. In this view, religion and civic life function without mutual influence. Pluralism is culturally uncomplicated.

The evidence I present here suggests that these views are wrong. I show that pluralism and religious practices are intertwined. How people think about pluralism is influenced by their religious convictions. And religious convictions are influenced by their experiences with pluralism. This means that cultural interpretations of religious questions matter. They matter, not so much as formal expressions of what theologians or religious organizations teach, but in the way that Michael Polanyi described the tacit knowledge in which all human behavior is inscribed. Tacit knowledge matters because we prefer to live in a world, even if it is a world of our own construction, that make sense, rather than in a world without sense. Understood this way, it makes a difference how people think about questions of God, death, salvation, heaven, good and evil, other religions, and the teachings of their own tradition. It certainly matters to the many Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and practitioners of other non-Western religions who now make up a growing minority of the U.S. population. It also matters to Americans who claim to be Christians or Jews, or who are self-styled spiritual shoppers. They may sometimes deny that it does. But when they confront religious diversity, and when they think about what it means to be religious or spiritual in a diverse society, they articulate tacit assumptions about what it means to be human and what it means to be an American.

Religious identities matter to the collective life of society as well as to the personal lives of individuals. Religious identities are among the ways in which cultural assumptions about what is right and good, or better and best, are organized. Americans believe they are a special people with a distinctive mission to fulfill in the world. This belief is associated historically with our understanding of religion. To say that we are a Christian nation has been a normative statement as well as a descriptive one. Christian values and practices occupied a special place in our thinking. To say that some people were Christian implied that others were not. Our moral universe included assumptions about Jews, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and practitioners of Native American religions. They, too, had duties to fulfill, roles in the cultural drama to perform. Religious diversity was inscribed in the moral order.

Another popular approach to religion among social scientists is to deal with it as if it were purely an expression of something else, such as class, race, gender, and region, or to explain its trends and patterns with reference to demography, organizations, leadership styles, and theories about rational choice. These reductionistic approaches give social scientists an excuse to avoid the content of religion. What people believe, or say they believe, and the language in which they make sense of their beliefs and practices are somehow, in the view of these scholars, too marginal, too normative, or too difficult to measure for any self-respecting social scientist to tackle. This is the point at which narrow definitions of disciplinary boundaries get in the way of knowledge.

I choose to emphasize what people think and the cultural idioms in which they express their thoughts. This is how people make sense of their beliefs and practices. It is how they negotiate meaning when faced with multiple religious teachings and traditions. If people were guided only by demography or social position, there would be no need to know what they say or think. But there is a well-established tradition in the social sciences (counting Max Weber and George Herbert Mead among those who observe it) that says that the meaning-making activity of humans is crucial to our understanding of society. Making sense of religious diversity is one of these meaning-making activities.

Still, listening to what people say would be of little value if their views merely echoed the writings of theologians and social philosophers. If ordinary people were guided by these writings, one would want to spend the time one has for scholarly reflection understanding these tomes and writing commentaries about them. Worthy as that may be, it does not provide much of a picture of the society in which we actually live.

When rank-and-file Americans talk about religious diversity, they disclose an implicit cultural text composed of narrative fragments from personal experience, from conversations with friends and neighbors, from the media, from books and magazines, and in many instances from ruminations about questions raised in Sunday school, a high school youth group, a course in comparative religions, or a visit to another country. It is possible to identify themes and variations in this subterranean text. Some people find ways to embrace religious diversity as fully as possible. Others assert loyalty to the tradition in which they were raised (or are presently involved), but acknowledge the validity of other traditions. A substantial number of Americans adamantly reject the truth of religions other than their own. In each of these orientations, people articulate a bricolage of ideas that both reflects and subverts public images of cultural diversity. Patterns of avoidance minimizing considered engagement among religious traditions are evident. And these avoidances illuminate the behavior of religious organizations and their leaders.

I do not argue that the present encounter with religious diversity is entirely new or without precedent. My argument is rather that America and American Christianity have always existed in a world of religious differences and with some awareness of these differences. I further argue, however, that this awareness is probably greater among rank-and-file Americans now than in the past because of mass communications, immigration, and our nation’s role in the global economy. In this, I am in agreement with historians such as Sydney Ahlstrom and William Hutchison who have argued that the present acceptance and welcoming of religious diversity is relatively new, dating perhaps only to the mid-twentieth century (Hutchison’s book, Religious Pluralism in America is especially helpful in this regard).

Whereas historical treatments of religious diversity in America have typically emphasized the divisions within Christianity (especially those separating Protestants and Catholics, Protestant denominations, and the various sects), my emphasis here is on the encounter between American Christians and other major religious traditions, such as Islam, Buddhism, and Hinduism. I understand that the tensions between Protestants and Catholics, or even between rival branches of Presbyterianism, were sometimes as fierce as anything evident currently between Christians and non-Christians. I am nevertheless interested in the fact that Christians have always had to formulate arguments about people who were clearly outside the Christian tradition by virtue of belonging to other major religious traditions. I am interested in how these arguments played into our national identity historically and how they are being revised at present.

My aim is not to encourage readers to conclude that religions are interchangeable. Nor do I believe the best way to live in a pluralistic society is to combine bits and pieces of several religions. I do insist that the growing religious diversity of our society poses a significant cultural challenge. The fact that Muslims, Hindus, and Buddhists are now a significant presence in the United States raises fundamental questions about our historic identity as a Christian nation. This new reality requires is to rethink our national identity and to face difficult choices about how pluralistic we are willing to be. It requires people of all religions, as well as scholars and community leaders, to take notice. If a person’s best friend in elementary school belonged to a different religion, and if this person takes religion seriously, he or she will surely think about his or her faith differently than would have been the case if everyone in school belonged to the same religion. If one’s neighbors and coworkers hold beliefs vastly different from one’s own, this too will evoke a response. We can try to understand and become more aware of these influences, and thus make more informed choices about how we respond, rather than letting circumstances dictate our responses.

I include the perspectives and experiences of American Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and Jews. These voices have too frequently been ignored in discussions of religious pluralism. They need to be heard. In addition, I focus especially on Americans who identify themselves as Christians and who are involved in churches. Christianity has been the dominant religious influence on our nation in the past and is likely to remain at the center of American religion in the foreseeable future. How Christians respond to religious diversity will be a decisive factor in shaping the future.

I write as a humanistically oriented social scientist. I view the encounter between Christianity and other religions as an instance of how we are shaped by our culture and of how we engage in cultural work. I am interested in the fact that religious diversity is embedded in cultural memory. America was not Christian when the first European explorers arrived. Settlers of Christian origin have always defined themselves through their encounters with other religions. They maintained the conviction that their own beliefs were true, perhaps uniquely so. How has this been possible? What cultural resources have made it possible? How do people frame their beliefs and make sense of them knowing that there are others who believe quite differently?

Some years ago, I became interested in the study of anti-Semitism and racial prejudice. I immersed myself in the research literature on those topics. I learned that contact between members of different religious or racial groups often reduces prejudice and hostility, that education and information generally have a positive effect on attitudes, and that tolerance has been increasing. I also learned that expressions of tolerance mask more complex attitudes and understandings, and that some of the most complex of these arise from religious teachings and traditions. For more than a decade, I have been listening to what Americans say about their faith, looking closely for clues about how they manage to choose certain beliefs and practices at a time when there are so many options from which to choose. This book is a continuation of my interest in those topics.

The research was supported through a Guggenheim fellowship and a grant from the Lilly Endowment. I am especially grateful to Craig Dykstra and Chris Coble at the Endowment for their interest in the project and for their help and encouragement along the way. Jenny Legath, Conrad Hackett, Daniel Weiss, and Jonathan McMath helped invaluably in tracking down historical and other textual materials. Natalie Searl did most of the interviewing and oversaw the transcription process. She was assisted by Libby Smith and Karen Myers. Wendy Cadge and Prema Kurien helped with Buddhist and Hindu sources, Jim Gibbon helped review the literature on American Muslims, and Sara Nephew and Cristina Mora assisted with the broader literature on religion and immigration. Interaction with the many visiting fellows and graduate students with whom I have been privileged to associate through the Center for the Study of Religion has broadened my perspectives historically and comparatively. Alan Wolfe, Wade Clark Roof, and Lynn Davidman read an earlier draft of the manuscript and provided helpful suggestions. I was also privileged to receive valuable feedback on portions of the book given as public lectures at the University of Michigan, Denison University, and Messiah College. My wife, Sara, and my children, Robyn, Brooke, and Joel, have been my faithful companions and sources of inspiration.

America

AND THE CHALLENGES OF RELIGIOUS DIVERSITY

INTRODUCTION

Confronting Diversity

On Saturday, September 13, 1997, millions of Americans viewed the funeral of a diminutive Catholic nun who had served India’s neediest people for four decades. The internationally televised service was for Mother Teresa of Calcutta, the colorful Saint of the Gutters who for years ranked among America’s most admired women and had been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1979. The funeral followed by only a week that of Britain’s Princess Diana, whose tragic death in a speeding automobile pursued by paparazzi in the Pont de l’Alma tunnel in Paris evoked an extraordinary international outpouring of grief.

Both of these events conveyed messages about religious diversity. The 15,000 mourners who packed Netaji stadium for Mother Teresa’s funeral included representatives of the world’s major faiths: Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Buddhists, Catholics, and other Christians. The assembled dignitaries eulogized Mother Teresa’s life of compassion, calling it an ideal to which the followers of all religions could aspire. Her words, I see God in every human being, were repeated like a mantra, as if to affirm the impression, so vividly communicated by religious leaders in a kaleidoscope of traditional robes laying garlands around her casket, that all faiths worship the same God. The religious messages accompanying Diana’s death were more ambiguous. Journalists conscientiously included the quiet Islamic burial of her companion, Dodi Al-Fayed, in their coverage, but for a time rumors also circulated that an interfaith romance of such high-profile possibilities had simply been too much, causing some black conspiracy to forever halt it from maturing.

In the following weeks, neither event was remembered especially for its images of religious diversity. Public attention moved on, looking back occasionally to the sad faces of Diana’s young sons, William and Harry, or to new revelations about the clouded circumstances of her hasty departure from the Ritz hotel. It moved on, remembering Mother Teresa’s goodness, savoring the thought that humans can indeed aspire to noble achievements, but including questions about public welfare policy and whether charity can be successful in alleviating the suffering of the world’s poor. And yet it would have been hard to watch either event without absorbing the message that the larger world, the world that encompasses so many different beliefs and faiths, is becoming smaller, crowding in on itself, forcing a new awareness of its diversity.

These are but two examples illustrating how common exposure to the leaders and followers of non-Western religions has become. News coverage from around the world includes images of religious leaders, adherents, and their places of worship. The nation’s expansive economic and military activities render these images more newsworthy than they would have been in the past. Apart from media, exposure to the world’s religions comes increasingly through first-hand encounters. During the last third of the twentieth century, approximately twenty-two million immigrants came to the United States.¹ Like the surge of immigration that occurred between 1890 and 1920, most of these immigrants came from countries in which Christians are the dominant religion. Yet, in contrast to that earlier period, the recent immigration included millions of people from countries in which Christians are only a small minority. Thus, in little more than a generation, the United States has witnessed an unprecedented increase in the diversity of major religious traditions represented among its population. More Americans belong to religions outside of the Christian tradition than ever before. The new immigrants include large numbers of Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, and followers of other traditions and spiritual practices. Their presence greatly increases the likelihood of personal interaction across these religious lines.

Recent immigrants and their descendants generally do not live isolated from other Americans in homogeneous enclaves. They frequently work in middle-class occupations and live in the same neighborhoods as other Americans do. Their mosques, temples, and meditation centers are often located in close proximity to churches and synagogues. The typical American, therefore, can more readily encounter people of other religions as neighbors, friends, and coworkers.²

Diversity is always challenging, whether it is manifest in language differences or in modes of dress, eating, and socializing. Seeing people with different habits and lifestyles makes it harder to practice our own unreflectively. When religion is involved, these challenges are multiplied. Religious differences are instantiated in dress, food, holidays, and family rituals; they also reflect historic teachings and deeply held patterns of belief and practice. These beliefs and practices may be personal and private, but they cannot easily be divorced from questions about truth and morality. Believing that one’s faith is correct and behaving in ways that reflect this belief may well be different in the presence of diversity than in its absence.

How have we responded to the religious diversity that increasingly characterizes our neighborhoods, schools, and places of work? Has it sunk into our awareness that the temple or mosque down the street is not just another church? Does it matter that our coworkers have radically different ideas of the sacred than we do? Or do we perceive these ideas as so different from our own? Are our views of America affected by having neighbors whose beliefs and lifestyles may run counter to our own? Does it bother us to read about hate crimes directed at Muslims or Hindus?

Historic interpretations of Christian teachings encourage Christians to practice the acceptance and love exhibited by Mother Teresa. Stories about Jesus’ willingness to violate social boundaries separating Jews and Gentiles exemplify how Christianity may encourage openness to racial, ethnic, and cultural diversity. Yet Christianity has also taught that only by accepting Jesus as their savior can believers overcome sinfulness and gain divine redemption. According to some interpretations of this teaching, the followers of other religions must convert to Christianity if they are to know God.

Throughout America’s history, our sense of who we are has been profoundly influenced by our religious beliefs and practices. Christianity’s claim to be the unique representative of divine truth has been one of these influences. We have thought of ourselves as a chosen people, a city on a hill, and a new Israel. We have considered ourselves defenders of the faith, a God-fearing people, and a Christian nation. At present, we remain one of the most religiously committed of all nations, at least if religious commitment is measured in numbers professing belief in God and attending services at houses of worship. Our identity is still marked by this fact. Many Americans take for granted that we are a Christian society, even if they implicitly make a place in this notion for Jews and unbelievers. Others take pride in our national accomplishments, our democratic traditions, and our extensive voluntary associations, assuming that these reflect Christian values.

If our understanding of what it means to be American reflects our religious heritage, our collective identity is also influenced by how we think about religious diversity. Until recently, we were able to think of ourselves as a Christian civilization, divided by the historic cleavages separating Protestants from Catholics and, among Protestants, Methodists from Baptists, Presbyterians from Episcopalians, Congregationalists from Quakers, and so on. We were a diverse nation because of the national origins from which the various denominational groups had come and because of racial, ethnic, and regional divisions in which religious disunity was embedded.³ We took pride in this diversity. It seemed like a mark of distinction.

We clearly do have a long history of religious diversity. This history has affected our laws, encouraging us to avoid governmental intrusion in religious affairs that might lead to an establishment of one tradition in favor of others. And it has taught us a kind of civic decorum that discourages blatant expressions of racist, ethnocentric, and nativist ideas. Yet it will not do, now in the face of new diversity, simply to rewrite our nation’s history as a story of diversity and pluralism.

The reality of large numbers of Americans who are Muslims, Buddhists, Zoroastrians, Sikhs, Hindus, and followers of other non-Western religions poses a new challenge to American self-understandings. When Christian leaders and their followers think about it, they will have more trouble knowing what exactly to think about their neighbors who belong to these other religions than they ever did simply thinking about the differences between Methodists and Baptists or Protestants and Catholics. That is, if they stop to think about it.

But the truth is, we know very little at this point about how ordinary Americans are responding to religious diversity. And, for that matter, we know little more about how religious leaders are dealing with diversity. We do know, for example, that religious leaders occasionally form interfaith alliances that include representatives of the world’s major religious traditions, and we know that other leaders are sometimes quoted in newspapers as saying that the followers of a particular religion other than their own are condemned to hell. Such headlines, however, seldom tell us much about how things are going in local communities or what people really believe and think.

To examine how we are responding to religious diversity and the cultural challenges that go with it, I draw on the results of a three-year research project that included more than three hundred in-depth personal interviews and a new national survey. Most of the interviews were conducted in fourteen metropolitan areas, selected to represent the several regions of the country as well as larger and smaller cities with varying experiences of immigration and diversity. The cities were New York, Philadelphia, and Washington, D.C., in the East; Charlotte, Atlanta, and Houston in the South; Columbus, Saint Louis, Kansas City, and Chicago in the Midwest; and Denver, Los Angeles, Sacramento, and Portland in the West.

In any part of the country, including cities like these, it is possible for people to go about their daily lives without thinking about religion or religious diversity. To increase the chances of finding people who had thought about these issues, I selected a Muslim mosque, a Hindu temple, a Buddhist temple or meditation center, and (for purposes of comparison) a Jewish synagogue in each city, taking care to choose ones belonging to different traditions and varying in size and location. I then identified a church in the immediate vicinity of each of these fifty-six organizations—often right next door or across the street and never more than a few blocks away.⁴ Interviews were then conducted with the pastors at each of these churches and with at least one of the members.⁵ Interviews were also conducted with the religious leaders at forty of the Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and Jewish organizations, and with forty of the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish, or Buddhist members. These interviews were supplemented with thirty-two interviews conducted among people who were either Christians married to non-Christians or non-Christians married to Christians and with forty interviews conducted among people who were eclectic in their religious beliefs and practices.⁶ Forty-five interviews were also conducted with local and national leaders experienced in dealing with interreligious issues through work in law and government, public education, chaplaincies, theological education, and interfaith organizations.⁷

The survey—which I will refer to as the Religion and Diversity Survey—was conducted with a national sample of 2,910 adults, selected to be representative of the adult population of the United States. It was conducted by telephone and each set of questions lasted approximately thirty-five minutes. Each person in the survey was asked questions about his or her contacts with people of religions other than Christianity, attitudes toward these religions, personal religious beliefs and practices, and a variety of other social and demographic characteristics.⁸ After the survey, we contacted two hundred of the respondents who were church members and asked them twenty to thirty minutes of open-ended questions about their beliefs and the activities of their churches. We also contacted the pastors at fifty of their churches to find out from them what their churches had been doing vis-à-vis followers of other faiths.

To put this contemporary evidence in historical perspective, I examined hundreds of primary and secondary documents from the past, ranging from books and letters to journal articles and statements issued by religious organizations. The historical material provides information with which to see how Americans at key moments in the past, beginning with the first European explorers and settlers and moving through subsequent phases of American history, made sense of the religious diversity with which they were confronted.

In sorting through the historical and contemporary material, I have focused on the following questions: How have Americans been able to maintain their conviction that Christianity is uniquely true and that theirs is a special nation with a distinctive (even divine) destiny? How has this been possible, given our frequent and now increasing encounters with other religions? And as we do face increasing diversity, how are our beliefs and identities changing to accommodate this diversity?

Behind these empirical questions is an important normative concern: How well are we managing to face the new challenges of religious and cultural diversity? Are we merely managing in the sense of making do, muddling our way by avoiding the issues whenever possible and responding superficially whenever we must? Or are we managing better than that? Are we taking advantage of the opportunities that diversity provides and moving toward a more mature pluralism than we have known in the past?

These are, in my view, among the most serious questions we currently face as a nation. In our public discourse about religion we seem to be a society of schizophrenics. On the one hand, we say casually that we are tolerant and have respect for people whose religious traditions happen to be different from our own. On the other hand, we continue to speak as if our nation is (or should be) a Christian nation, founded on Christian principles, and characterized by public references to the trappings of this tradition. That kind of schizophrenia encourages behavior that no well-meaning people would want if they stopped to think about it for very long. It allows the most open-minded among us to get by without taking religion very seriously at all. It permits religious hate crimes to occur without much public attention or outcry. The members of new minority religions experience little in the way of genuine understanding. The churchgoing majority seldom hear anything to shake up their comforting convictions. The situation is rife with misunderstanding and, as such, holds little to prevent outbreaks of religious conflict and bigotry. It is little wonder that many Americans retreat into their private worlds whenever spirituality is mentioned. It is just easier to do that than to confront the hard questions about religious truth and our national identity.

1

A Special People in a Diverse World

A popular response to questions about religious diversity, both from rank-and-file Americans and from community leaders, is that the topic is essentially unworthy of serious reflection: either because religious diversity has not been part of one’s experience or because it is satisfactorily covered among our constitutional rights. Yet if one examines discussions of religion in the past, it becomes clear that diversity was seldom divorced from thinking about ourselves and our identity as a nation. Contributors to these discussions believed that America was a special place and that its distinctiveness was somehow related to a divine purpose. That purpose necessarily carried implications for their understanding of the various religions they encountered. Particularly when America’s purpose was associated with a distinctly Christian view of God and of God’s people, as it often was, the founders and promoters of America were compelled to adopt a position toward other religions. They often articulated views of these religions that corresponded with their own sense of destiny and social location.

Max Weber’s influential writing about religion nearly a century ago provides a helpful framework for thinking about the relationships among religious convictions, views of other religions, and ideas about purpose and destiny.¹ Weber understood that religion, among other things, provides people with a way of transforming an existence of apparent chaos into one having ultimate meaning. Religion renders existence meaningful by reinforcing the assumption that reality makes sense intellectually and intuitively. But any religious system that provides meaning in this fashion, Weber realized, must also address the problem of evil. Answers must be given and comfort provided in the face of those events that do not make sense and are not on the surface desirable. They may be explained variously as the work of an inscrutable God or the devil, or in terms of fate or a cycle of rebirths, but they must be explained. And how they are explained, Weber argued, shapes what people value and how they believe they should live. Their behavior is, in a word, channeled by their understanding of good and evil.

A problem similar to the more general one Weber identified arises whenever people regard themselves individually or collectively as special, at least if they cloak this view in a larger divine, philosophical, or metaphysical framework. Regarding themselves as special necessarily implies that some other group is not special and thus raises the question of why this should be so. The question is not simply a matter of idle curiosity but is integrally connected to a people’s sense of identity and purpose. The other serves as a point of comparison and contrast, providing a sense of how we are different from and similar to the rest of the world. If our own identity is part of a divine or transcendent plan, then those who are not us must have an identity within this understanding as well—perhaps as our antagonists or as people who for some reason cannot share in the divine plan. How we conceptualize our relationships with them and how we formulate our priorities more generally will be tacitly guided by our understandings of those we are not.²

Throughout our history, we have formulated understandings of who we are individually and as a nation. These understandings have characteristically assumed that American culture and identity, including its distinct purpose in the world and the moral fiber of its people, are explicitly or implicitly related to Christian values. When the first European explorers and settlers came to North America, they faced a multiplicity of religious practices that were not part of the Christian world. By the end of the eighteenth century, European Americans and their descendents imagined themselves to have created a special nation that, if not distinctively Christian was at least a high expression of Western civilization.³ Many of them understood themselves as a Christian people who had formed a vast network of congregations, spread the gospel, and established a rule of law based on Christian principles. Yet they had done so, not simply by converting the indigenous population to Christianity or by eliminating this population, but by developing a complex set of interpretations of it. These interpretations preserved and protected their understanding of what it meant to be Christian on the American continent and of why Christianity was uniquely true. During the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, new interpretations were added to make sense of the nation’s growing contact with the wider world and the wider diversity of its population.

What we see at present, as Americans make sense of themselves in relation to neighbors and coworkers with different religions, is a continuation of this history. Believing that we are special, we have always found it necessary to explain how and why this should be so. At the deepest levels of our culture, these reasons have been religious. They have associated us collectively and individually with a divine purpose conceived of largely through the Christian heritage of those who came from Europe and created institutions to carry on its traditions. By association, the Christian claim of having a unique relationship with God gave Americans a special place in the world as well. The fact that others did not have this special relationship had to be understood. These others have provided us variously with a mission to fulfill, foes to conquer, visions of evil to avoid or go to war with, intellectual puzzles to resolve, opportunities to exploit, and reassurance about our moral goodness and cultural progress.

A detailed history of America’s encounters with religions other than Christianity is beyond the scope of the present chapter. However, tracing the highlights of these encounters will serve as background for considering the present period. We shall see that Americans came early to accept the idea that their society, while diverse, was fundamentally Christian and that the meaning of diversity should be understood primarily in reference to the Christian majority. We shall also see that Christians’ attitudes toward other religions reflected Americans’ understandings of themselves and their own religion. Over the centuries, these understandings have changed; yet the struggle between a theology of exclusivism and a civic code of pluralism has remained constant. The tension between these two profoundly important aspects of American culture has generated a set of responses to other religions that are still very much in evidence today.

First Encounters

When Europeans first came to the American continent they were of course encountering a world that could scarcely be considered Christian. They were nevertheless optimistic. In fact, Christopher Columbus and his crew thought the making of a Christian land in the New World would happen easily. Despite badly miscalculating where his journey had taken him, Columbus was a careful observer of his new surroundings. His diary describes a stalk loaded with rose berries that gave the Pinta’s crew its first indication of approaching land on October 11, 1492. He describes the naked beauty of the men and women who came out to welcome him, how tall they were, and the color and length of their hair. After spending more time with them, he discusses the shape of their foreheads, the scars some of the men had received in skirmishes with neighboring islanders, what they ate, and the spears they used for fishing. He endeavors to learn about their economy, how they governed themselves, and what they appreciated in jewelry and in art. It is notable, therefore, that his account of the people’s religious practices does not reflect the same consideration of detail.⁴

Columbus’s voyage was undertaken with several goals in mind, not the least of which was to discover treasure for the Spanish crown and to ensure his own fortune and place in history. But the voyage was also inspired by a religious mission, one that not only reflected his own faith and the rising influence of the Spanish monarchy in western Christendom but that also illustrated the larger reasons for Europe’s eagerness to believe that America would become a Christian land. When Columbus left Granada on May 12, 1492, three recent religious developments were fresh in his mind: the war with the Moors in Granada that had just been concluded, the expulsion of Jews from Spain, and Jerusalem remaining in the hands of Muslim forces. Thus the time appeared propitious for Columbus to set sail in an effort to further the Christian cause. Believing himself to be living in the end times prophesied in the Bible, he was buoyed by the possibility of being able to find treasure that could be used to pay for armies to liberate Jerusalem from the Muslims, not to mention being able to make contact with the Grand Khan of India who had supposedly sent messengers to Rome asking to be instructed in the Holy Faith.⁵

Columbus’s perception of the indigenous peoples he encountered in the New World occurred against the backdrop of these developments in the relationships, some real and some assumed, between Christianity, Islam, Judaism, and the leaders of India. He was optimistic that Christianity was on the ascendancy and that his own voyage was foretold in biblical prophecy. An amateur theologian himself, he was well prepared to perceive whatever he encountered in the New World through interpretations provided by Christianity. He believed, for example, that mankind had descended from a common ancestor and that the various peoples of the world had migrated to different continents and adopted different customs after the flood described in the Bible. Many of these people were living in bondage, guided by evil rulers who were playing an unwitting role in God’s eventual plan of redemption.⁶ The Indians Columbus encountered were remarkably free of these influences, residing as they did outside the boundaries of the ancient kingdoms that Christian scholarship had interpreted in these ways. Columbus described the Indians as being eager to hear about and to understand the Christian truth being brought to them. Indeed, Columbus appears to have believed that Christianity was the only religion present in the New World since he could find no evidence of any other religion. I believe, he wrote, that they [the Indians] would become Christians very easily, for it seemed to me that they had no religion.⁷

What persuaded Columbus that the American continent was devoid of other religions is not entirely clear because he does note that there were many statues in the shape of women and many mask-like heads, which may have been worshipped as well as being produced for their beauty.⁸ Still, it struck him that the Indians apparently did not pray or worship idols and that they were free from the kind of religions he had read about that were imposed on otherwise innocent people by rulers such as the Grand Khan. In any event, the Indians seemed eager to become Christians as evidenced by the fact that they "say the Salve and the Ave Marie with their hands to heaven as the Spaniards show them; and they make the sign of the cross.⁹ Besides their willingness to engage in Christian practices, which reinforced Columbus’s belief that his mission was destined for success, the Indians appeared to have the qualities of young children who, according to the teachings of his own church, remained innocent and in a special relationship with God. Thus, his diary describes them as lacking in evil, naked as their mothers bore them, credulous, very gentle, and very timid.¹⁰ Columbus concludes that given devout religious persons knowing thoroughly the language that they use, soon all of them would become Christian and he repeats the same argument suggesting that efforts to make Christians of the Indians will be done easily, since they have no false religion nor are they idolaters."¹¹