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8 min read

The impact of making unique claims

In the second of a short series on pluralism, Philosopher Barnabas Aspray asks If Christianity is right, are all other religions wrong?

Barnabas Aspray is Assistant Professor of Systematic Theology at St Mary’s Seminary and University.

The impact of unique claims

 If Christianity is right, are all other religions wrong? 

 What is a Christian way to think about other religions? In the first part of this series, we established that there is no neutral standard or standpoint, and that we  must always judge religions in light of some ultimate truth-commitment, even if for some that is only oneself. We must give up any pretence at the possibility of objectivity, or else we would be guilty of self-contradiction. Therefore, what I am now going to offer is a Christian approach to religious pluralism, with the caveat that it is not the only possible one and many Christians may disagree with it.  

To be a Christian means to make Jesus Christ the ultimate standard of judgment and the light by which to discern truth from falsehood, good from evil. Jesus said, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me’ (John 14:6). Paul concurred: ‘there is one God, and there is one mediator between God and humankind, Christ Jesus’ (1 Tim 2:5). In other words, Jesus demanded absolute and total allegiance, and claimed to be the ultimate source of truth and spiritual guidance. He did not claim to be merely another wise teacher like Socrates, Confucius, or Mencius, whose sayings are followed because they make sense to the listener or because of the reputation of the speaker. Jesus wanted, not just to offer wisdom, but to invite us to leave everything and follow him, to submit to him as our master above all other masters.  

Some people think that Jesus’ claim to ultimacy means that to follow Jesus means to believe all other religions are wrong. But this is a mistake.

The first point about this claim of Jesus is that it is far from strange or unique. The founder of every major world religion made similar claims about themself as the ultimate guide to truth. For example, Sri Krishna said, ‘I am the goal of the wise man, and I am the way. ... I am the end of the path, the witness, the Lord, the sustainer. I am the place of abode, the beginning, the friend and the refuge. ... If you set your heart upon me thus, and take me for your ideal above all others, you will come into my Being.’ Similarly, the Buddha said, ‘You are my children, I am your father; through me you have been released from your sufferings. ... My thoughts are always in the truth, for Lo! my self has become the truth.’  If Jesus had not claimed ultimacy for himself, he would not have founded a religion the way I am using the word (recall in the first part of this series, where I defined a religion as one’s commitment to what is ultimate).  

Some people think that Jesus’ claim to ultimacy means that to follow Jesus means to believe all other religions are wrong. But this is a mistake. Jesus is claiming, not that you can find truth nowhere else, but that he is the ultimate authority or paradigm through which we view the world, to help us see what is true and what is false elsewhere.  If Jesus is the truth, this in no way implies that every other religion is all lies or wrong from beginning to end. How could they be, when they agree on so much? It is a strange feature of the modern way of thinking that it loves to posit radical ‘either/or’ alternatives, without seeing the overlap, the layers, the inclusiveness of one thing in another, and the deeper synthesis which reconciles surface-level contradictions. A Christian perspective does not require believing that other religions are lies, but that they only have part of the truth where Jesus has it all. There is all the difference in the world between believing a lie, and believing only part of the truth. Let’s consider some of the other world religions. For a start, to be a Christian automatically implies agreeing with Judaism on a huge amount. Insofar as Judaism denies Jesus as the Messiah, there is a conflict. But this is not a positive belief of Judaism, only an absence where Christianity claims a presence. Similarly, for Christians to consider Islam ‘totally wrong’ is a massive failure of perspective, an inability to notice the enormous overlap Christians have with Muslims, not only on the One Transcendent Creator God, but on all kinds of ethical issues, prayer, worship, fasting and so on. Something similar applies to Hinduism, which is often mistakenly considered polytheistic only because of its reverent denial of the conceivability of Transcendence, from which some Christians would do well to learn. To notice first what we disagree on and let that obscure all the common ground is a failure of charity and graciousness, which makes it a fundamentally unchristian attitude. 

There is all the difference in the world, as well, between calling Jesus the truth and calling Christianity a complete explanation for everything, as if Christians understood Jesus completely and had nothing more to learn. To believe in Jesus is not to understand even Christianity in all its fullness, let alone the ways in which Jesus is manifest dimly through cultures that have never heard of him, or who have heard of him only as a symbol of Western imperialism. St Paul says that for Christians, Christ is ‘before all things, and in him all things hold together’. That means everything has contact with Christ simply by being a thing, by existing. The apostle John writes: ‘All things came into being through him [the Word], and without him not one thing came into being. What has come into being in him was life, and the life was the light of all people’. So if anyone has life, they have their being in Christ, and the light of Christ reveals at least some truth to them. 

For Christians, Christ is the fullness of the truth, and all else is only part of the truth. But Christians still have only part of the truth, because their knowledge of Christ remains incomplete and imperfect. Why could another religion not reveal something of Christ, as long as it didn’t contradict the trusted revelation of Christ in the Bible? How would we know, unless we took the time to listen and learn about other religions, without fear, without defensiveness, without needing to prove things or score points in an argument, also without compromising the ultimate authority of Christ as the supreme judge? Throughout the history of Judeo-Christian religion, the true insights of ‘outsiders’ have been accepted and become part of the faith of ‘insiders’. The Bible’s Book of Proverbs has chapters 22-24  lifted from Egyptian literature. The ideas of circumcision, a sacred temple, and a divinely appointed king all originated from practices in the surrounding nations, adopted and sanctified by Israel. St Paul quotes Greek poets as speaking truth about God. Justin Martyr recognised truths taught by Plato which enlarged the Christian understanding of God and the world. His maxim, “all truth wherever it is found belongs to us as Christians,” summarises the generous attitude Christians ought always to have in their search for wisdom and truth, without ever watering down the fullness of the truth in Christ. 

True tolerance, as John Dickson puts it, isn’t the easy acceptance of every viewpoint but the noble ability to love those with whom we deeply disagree. 

Concluding thoughts for those on a journey 

We cannot expect all religious people in the world to come to agreement quickly and without great labour of understanding, love, and forgiveness. In the meantime, I propose the following attitudes for everyone, whether Christian or not, who acknowledges their own limited and non-objective perspective and yet is serious about the quest for ultimate reality.  

Provisionality: faith is a journey, truth is a destination. To call it ‘faith’ means that it is not certain, that it is provisional, that it can grow and change. Everything you believe is always provisional. Never say ‘I will never change my mind on this’ because you do not know the future. This is particularly true for Christians. Rowan Williams describes Christianity as a basic life commitment which one takes before having all of the facts and evidence. In other words, to be a Christian means to be betting your entire life that following Jesus is the best way to live. You can’t prove this, you can’t be certain of this. You can’t even evaluate its likelihood from any neutral or objective standpoint. But you only have one life, and how you spend it will be your bet. 

Authenticity: live your beliefs to the max. That is the only way you may find them to be false, or the only way others will be attracted to them if they are true. Much of the confusion in the world is a result of hypocrisy. Do not add to it. Learn also to articulate your own beliefs clearly to yourself and others. This means getting to know them by diligent study. 

Empathy: learn to see the world from other points of view. In 2017 the world’s top religious leaders issued a joint appeal: “make friends with followers of other religions.” Some people say there is too much talk and not enough action in the world. I say there is not enough real dialogue, not enough listening, which implies someone is talking. No harm can be done to anyone’s faith by listening, seeking to understand, not prejudging. And for Christians, it is a requirement, not an optional extra, because it is the basis of love. True tolerance, as John Dickson puts it, isn’t the easy acceptance of every viewpoint but the noble ability to love those with whom we deeply disagree. 

Hope: the truth gives itself to be known. The universe does not fundamentally lead astray those who seek the truth with all their heart. This cannot be proven. That is why it is called hope. But certainty is not a luxury granted to anyone. You only have a choice between hope or despair, i.e. hope or its absence. Neither option makes more rational sense than the other, yet as life-attitudes they pervade your every choice and belief. Which one will you adopt as your own? 

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Music
7 min read

10 things I learned from Reading Festival's teenagers

Some uplifting down time.

Krish is a social entrepreneur partnering across civil society, faith communities, government and philanthropy. He founded The Sanctuary Foundation.

Festival goers, in a cafe tent, make drinks or sit around talking
Time out in the Street Pastors cafe.
Reading Street Pastors.

Last weekend I was at Reading Festival which has become a rite of passage for teenagers from across the UK. Over 105,000 young people turn up to the festival for a weekend of music and mayhem. The typical guest has just received their GCSE results, and heads for Reading, or its twin festival in Leeds, to reflect on what they are going to do next. Headliners this year included artists such as Lana Del Rey, Raye, Prodigy, Beadobee and Liam Gallagher.  

My role at the Festival was as a volunteer with Reading Street Pastors who offer a 24-hour safe, warm and dry space. They provide a vital service for these young people, many of whom find their first festival experience very overwhelming. Volunteers serve a ‘Mountain’ of hot chocolate, loaded with cream and marshmallows, or ‘Liquid Death’ – a rebranded aluminium recyclable can of water - along with a friendly face or a listening ear.  

I got to spend time over the weekend with hundreds of teenagers who were prepared to spend hours in the safe space because their tents had collapsed, or they had forgotten to bring anything warm to wear, or their phone batteries were dead or because their friends had ditched them. I found our open-ended conversations insightful, and offered me the opportunity to learn a lot about the upcoming generation. Here are some of my observations:   

1. They're brilliant  

Too often, young people are written off as being uncommunicative, narcissistic, or addicted to social media, but given the chance, they are excellent conversationalists. I thoroughly enjoyed their company; they asked great questions, shared big ideas and offered honest, if surprising, opinions. It was actually a pleasure to spend time with them and I totally recommend it – even, or especially, at 6am in the morning.  

2. They appreciate their parents  

Of course, most of them wouldn’t tell their parents this, but to me, a total stranger, it appeared that they recognized and appreciated the influence of their parents. This was evident not only in those young people who were missing home and home comforts, but even in their music tastes. The band The Prodigy, who performed on the first night, stem from my era of music, and encompass dance, house, and rave culture. I heard many young people claim they were listening to them, or Liam Gallagher from Oasis, because “my mum/dad love them”.  Music is quite a connecting point between generations, it turns out.  

3. There’s a diverse range of political engagement

There was a wide range of understanding and interest in politics among these young people. I spoke to many who didn't seem to care about politics, feeling that politicians don't care about them and questioning why they should bother if they can't make a difference. However, I also met many politically connected and aware individuals, some of whom were aspiring to study at universities like Durham, Oxford, or Cambridge. These engaged youths expressed frustration, feeling let down by the political system and believing that politicians don't have their best interests at heart. They were aware of issues like tax increases and broken promises by political parties and expressed a sense of distrust and disillusionment. This disengagement is a significant problem, as it leaves young people vulnerable to populism. Some mentioned that in school elections, more right-wing parties were gaining attention because they seemed to take young people seriously, which I found fascinating and concerning. 

4. There’s a lack of hope

I noticed many of the young people I spoke to didn't have a lot of hope for the future. Their huge outlay of £350+ on the weekend appeared to be evidence: many of them expressed resignation that they would never be able to own a house, or were worried about the escalation of global events such as the conflict in the Middle East and Ukraine. While social media is often blamed for creating anxiety in this generation, it seems that global events and mainstream media also play significant roles in shaping their perceptions and values.  

Mental health and especially male mental health seem to have turned a corner. 

5. There are conflicting views on the environment 

Despite numerous advertisements and incentives for people to clean up after themselves at the festival, it was clear that there were two sorts of campers. While some picked up their own litter – and that of those around them, others had no intention of even taking their tent home at the end. Every year after the Reading festival, the site looks like a disaster zone, as if a hurricane has blown through, the aerial shots released of the aftermath remind me of the movie Twisters. Another wave of volunteers comes in to help clear away the debris. However, I heard one young person say: "My mum and dad didn't raise me to live this way."  Young people are not a monolithic group, and we shouldn't expect them to be. We can’t tar them all with the same brush. Some may not care about the mess they leave behind them, but others really do.   

6. Queueing is dying 

Maybe it has always been this way, and I am just getting too old for it but it seems nobody respects my tactic of getting to the front to see the big-name band by arriving at the venue early, waiting for the barrier gates to open and then picking your spot and waiting. At Reading Festival, I’ve learned that about 5 minutes before the band comes on, there’s a sudden surge of people who snake their way through the crowd claiming to be ‘just finding their friends’. I didn’t see any great reunifications. What I saw was disrespect of the good old British value of queuing. The problem is I’m too old to remember whether I did that as a teenager too.  

7. Faith is not embarrassing 

The safe space run by the Reading Street Pastors was busy. Maybe it was due to the torrential downpour that left many tents uninhabitable, but I remember it being the same last year. The young people seemed to appreciate not only the company, hot chocolate and warm blanket, but also the opportunity to chat. Volunteers offer their help to all without distinction, whatever faith background they are from. But faith often came up in conversation. I heard: “Why do you run this tent?” “Why are you volunteering here?” “Are you guys religious?” “What does it mean to be a Christian?” “What are the best bits of the Bible to read when you are feeling lonely?” “What does the Bible say about drugs?” “Can you help me with the religion and ethics questions for my A-level Philosophy coursework?” Overall, faith was discussed openly, as something interesting and positive.  

8. Mental health issues are losing their stigma 

At 6.30am a huge security guard walked into our safe space and during the long conversation that ensued, what struck me was his openness about his mental health and anxiety. There was no stigma, no shame, in talking to me, a stranger, about his struggles. He was not the only one to be open about his mental health issues and it felt like a very healthy development in our society. Mental health and especially male mental health seem to have turned a corner.  

9. Teenagers need to learn survival skills  

Shivering in our safe space at 6.05 in the morning was a lad who had come to the Reading Festival with only his t-shirt and jeans. He didn’t even think he might need a coat, let alone a waterproof tent. At the other end of the space was a lad with a full-on Calor-gas stove, whipping up some nourishing pasta-based meals for his friends. It was clear to see which of the two 16-year-olds had done the Duke of Edinburgh scheme. The expedition training and experience has given him survival skills for life.  

10. Music is a grand uniter

In my day, music fans would be glued to their television screens on a Thursday night as we waited to hear who had the number one single of the week. That hour of the week was part of our shared cultural identity and everyone was talking about it at school the next day. Nowadays, Youtube, Spotify and the other infinite ways to access music has taken away the grand unifying cultural portal that was Top Of The Pops. Yet, somehow, they provide young people with diploma-level knowledge in popular music through the decades. They all know not only the breakthrough artists and latest hits, but lyrics to everything from Sabrina Carpenter and Lana Del Ray to Oasis. On a warm summer’s evening, with the sun setting there’s something very beautiful about a crowd of 70,000 people singing songs together.