Review By – Claudia Abbott–Science of Mind Magazine—The United Church of Religious Science
~“Is it possible that the great teachers of major world religions present slightly different paths to the same destination?
~Does the wisdom of these teachings resonate at such a deep, personal level of recognition because they reveal the truth that has always been inside each individual’s consciousness?
“Too often, religions have been used to separate humanity, Richard Hooper thrives to find the common ground of connection in his comparative study of the teachings of four of the world’s great religions.Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, Lao Tzu: The Parallel Sayings explores thirteen subject areas that range from “The Great Way” to “Death and Immortality.”
Each chapter has a thought-provoking introduction by the author, who asks the reader to probe the topics with an open mind and heart to embrace the wisdom that transcends the limits of dogma and examines the building blocks of world spirituality.
The Parallel Sayings are presented in four columns across two facing pages. These gems capture the perspective of each spiritual tradition and reveal the universality of wisdom. The beauty of Hooper’s work is that his comparisons do not attempt to make any tradition right or wrong. He simply finds the common ground. In doing so, he moves his reader to higher ground, a little closer to enlightenment.
The book is illustrated with black and white photographs that utilize the magnificence of nature, religious sculptures, symbols, and art to capture the beauty and elegance of man’s attempts to express a love of the divine. A delight to give or receive, this book might be a great addition to one’s coffee table collection, with the potential to spark thoughtful discussion and compassionate insight.
C O N T E N T S
Introduction
1
The Great Way
27
God, Tao and Universal Mind
43
Being One
Mind Meditation and Yoga
55
The Self
69
The Sacred Syllable
In the Presence of the Avatar
79
Cutting the Ti es that Bind
The Path of Renunciation
87
Wisdom And Knowledge
103
Love and Compassion
113
Hypocrisy
123
Suffering
133
Karma and Reincarnation
141
Death and Immortality
151
Enlightenment and Liberation
163
Final words and Sources
Including: Did Jesus Travel to Tibet?
RICHARD HOOPER, M.DIV.
General background and education
Richard Hooper is a former Lutheran pastor who received his Bachelor’s degree in religion and philosophy from San Francisco State University in 1966, and his Master of Divinity from Berkeley’s Pacific Lutheran Theological Seminary in 1970. He was subsequently ordained by The American Lutheran Church (ALC) in 1972.
Under the auspices and funding of the American Mission’s division of the ALC, Rev. Hooper founded a multi-dimensional ministry to the “counter culture” on the Monterey Peninsula of California, where he was affectionately (and sometimes not so affectionately) known as “the hippie priest of Monterey.”
Reverend Hooper’s mission for the Lutheran Church
Richard’s main ministry was his half-way house, Mission: Possible, which provided sanctuary for hundreds of young people with a variety of problems and needs.
During this decade, Richard also produced more than five hundred radio broadcasts, interviewing such notable personalities as Ram Dass, Timothy Leary, Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, Richard Bach and Dr. Stanislov Groff.
Drawing on a deep knowledge of Christian scripture as well as Hindu philosophy, musician and teacher Russill Paul reveals that the mystical core of religion offers us much more than the simple solace of unthinking dogma. By demonstrating that these two seemingly separate and irreconcilable religions can actually unite in one person’s spiritual practice at the center of his life — as they did in his — he offers an alternative to religious intolerance and strife, as well as hope for personal liberation.
Russill Paul, a musician, teacher, Yogi and author of “The Yoga of Sound” and “Jesus in the Lotus: The Mystical Doorway between Christianity and Yogic Spirituality“, speaks with Miriam Knight about his views on the role of spirituality and mysticism in everyday life.
Did Jesus learn what he knew from India ? Where was Jesus and what was he doing from ages 12-30? What happened to him after Crucifixion? Why does the Bible leave out this important information?
Christ, Buddha and the Saviors of Mankind, Part 1
There are many comparative studies of the lives of the masters Gautama Buddha and Jesus, as there are many revisions about the lives of Krishna and others historically relevant spiritual masters. There are in many of them thematic parallels among the lives of these Saviors of Humanity. In cautiously observing this, it is almost awkward to declare that these facts are more than just coincidences, or just the result of random curse of events.
H.P Blavatsky, in her book “Isis Unveiled”, points out that Gautama was the son of a king; Jesus was also a rightful descendent of King David. Buddha was known to be one of the incarnations of Vishnu, and Jesus known to be an incarnation of the Holy Spirit. Both were pure expressions of the Divine. Both their mothers conceived their sons in a very special way; both of them, Mary (Jesus’ Mother) and Maya (Buddha’s mother) were known to have had immaculate conceptions. Even their names, Mary and Maya were proven to have come from the same root, from a distant registry that the human mind can no longer reach.
Both of these initiates were able to perform miracles, exceptional healings and transformational teachings. In the dark ages of mankind those parallels were dismissed to be only the work of the Devil, the great liar that wanted to confuse the rightful and the faithful.
Some other scholars, investigating the different religious backgrounds of the ancient world, could prove the existence of at least sixteen different traditions where the savior dies to save Humanity. This comes to prove that characteristics that are common to their stories are more than mere coincidences.
More than what it is publicized by the religious traditions of today, where the stories of the masters are nothing more than the sterilized version of their teachings, the spiritual path should be seen as a trail to the followed by advanced disciples, that inevitably one day will also save humanity. The difference now is the element of Sacrifice; not necessarily seen as it was a couple of thousand years ago.
The Tearing of the Veils
“Then, behold, the veil of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom; and the earth quaked, and the rocks were split, and the graves were opened; and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised.”
~ Mathew Matthew 27:51
Gautama abolishes idolatry and creates huge conflict with the Brahmas’ that had the monopoly of the traditional teachings of the Hindu society. He promotes and teaches the mysteries of the unity, oneness and nirvana, and offers safe practices accessible to all castes in methods to reach liberation from the wheels of suffering and pain.
Jesus the Christ shows himself against the religious tyranny of the Pharisees and scribes of the Temple, and openly teaches the mysteries of the Kingdom of God. As we can observe, the convergence of facts and similarities are overwhelming. Esoterically, it is nonetheless said that Chris Jesus was a being originated from the Seventh Ray of Creation, while Buddha is said to be the master of the Fifth Ray. The fact is that these enlighten beings are rays and frequencies of the Christ-consciousness vibration, emissaries of the Light to bring about the opening of consciousness in their lifetimes.
From another angle, both of their traditional teachings speak about three different levels of realization, or there are three grades of human spirits. The upper level are called the elected, even though there is no elitism implied under the term that would derive any sense of exclusion. Among the Gnostics of ancient times, the elected were called Pneumatics, which in their language meant “guided by spirit”, among the Buddhist they were known as “Arias”, or advanced beings, the sacred ones.
The Second group, an intermediary one, were known among the Gnostics as the Psychics ,or religious ones. These, among the Buddhists, were known as Aniata.
The last group, for both doctrines, was comprised by the common men. The Gnostics called them the Somatics or Hylics, the “worldly” people: pure emotion and “living in the now” for pleasure. The Buddhist called them silly people, because of their permanent desire to dedicate their lives only for the immediate pleasures of life and are still immerse in Maya (illusion).
All the structural body of their teachings was designed to attend to the needs of these three grades of Human spirits. To the common men, or Somatics, the instructions were directed to practices of daily life and ethics.
For the second level of Souls, the psychics for the Gnostics and Aniatas for the Buddhists, the teachings were directed to a more ample vision in dealing with challenges of the daily life and spiritual practices. Most of these lessons can be found in the sutras and also in the Christian scriptures. Their perspective of this particular group was directed to the close care of these Souls, because both doctrines believed that this group of Souls could fall back into the broader group, if they did not have the proper instructions and spiritual practice. Also, their specialty resides in that they at the same time could be the group of Souls that could transcend and enter the realms of the “elected”, or the saved ones.
Finally, for the last level of human souls, the so-called Pneumatics[1] for the Gnostics or Arias for the Buddhists, both Masters offer what we call the “Accelerated Path”, or inner teachings. They are comprised by a more elaborated set of teaching since the accelerated path has its own privileged requirements and requires constant purifications and tenacious dedication.
This is not a path for many. Among the Buddhists, the monks have a period of study to develop the foundation of the future teachings. Just a few of these monks are invited to continue their studies, as they will be involving more than sutras and Tantra to reach their goals. For the Gnostics, the advanced techniques involved the practices of the Sacraments; for them the sacraments were five, as they were taught by Christ and later, his disciples. They were originally only five instead of the seven actually practiced by the Church today. Originally, the Sacraments were transformational rites of passage: our equivalent of modern initiations.
[1] From “pneuma” meaning “air” or coming from Spirit. These souls preserve a living connection with pleroma therefore considering the human spirit as a spark of God’s light and in effect a part of Body of God himself. They can be sometimes minimalists and ascetics individuals.
When angry mullahs and oil despots want to stir up anger against the West, “Crusade” is an inflammatory term that comes automatically to their lips. The memory of Christian knights invading the Arab world is very long. The height of the Crusades ended seven centuries ago. But it’s not history that is at stake. Embedded in the worldview of many devout Muslims is a defensive and hostile attitude toward Christianity. The burning of the bible by a mullah somewhere in Iran wouldn’t incite mob action in the West, but a single extremist in Florida with a following of less than fifty led to violence and murder in Afghanistan.
Distasteful as it is, religion remains a major element in all three Arab conflicts that the U.S. has ventured into. The memoirs of former President George Bush are rife with religious motivations. There is little doubt that when he gave speeches about a “conflict of civilizations,” he meant a conflict between two religions. Such a conflict doesn’t exist, not inherently. Jesus is worshiped as the Prince of Peace; one definition of the word “Islam” is peace. But history has created its own dogmas, and when human nature wants to justify aggression, any rationale will do, including God.
This issue is facing us again because the uprisings that are revamping the Arab world include a strong Islamist influence. In some places the specter of new hostility between the Shia and Sunni is boiling up. In other places the Muslim Brotherhood has a strong voice, and almost everywhere the populace looks to their traditional leaders, the clerics, for guidance. Crowds consider Friday, the chief gathering time for the faithful going to mosques, as a significant day for protest. There is a real possibility that fundamentalist Islam will loom in the future of many states.
The direction of history will be decided by another faction, one that has proved stronger than religion in Egypt: young people who want a future in the modern world. Like the student uprisings in the West in the Sixties, a youth movement in Islam isn’t likely to seize power after expressing its discontent. In every Arab country an entrenched military, traditional clerics, and explosive extremists hold the spotlight. Protests aren’t equal to organized, empowered elites.
What’s important is that the West doesn’t repeat Bush’s doctrine of fighting for God. If we honestly asked what Jesus would do about Islam, it’s obvious that his solution wouldn’t be war. He might even apply the Golden Rule. So far, President Obama has been more Christian than his predecessor, not by applying Christian principles but by treating Muslims with common humanity, tolerance, and understanding. These uprisings are part of a global phenomenon, the rise of the dispossessed. People don’t emerge from political repression as model citizens, much less saints. They are angry and resentful, so they lash out. They have been deprived for generations of education, so they follow demagogues. They know little of the world beyond what religion tells them, so they see others through the lens of religion.
We have a reactionary wing in this country that shares the same traits, but they have much less excuse. They haven’t been oppressed, and for the most part every benefit of prosperity and education has been available to them. The jihadis and extremists of the Arab world have served well as bogeymen for the right wing, as they have served the Gaddafis and Mubaraks whose vested interests are just as reactionary. I doubt that Jesus would appreciate their values, and his response to religious intolerance would not be to praise it.
Do you think of a supernatural being who sits outside the four dimensional (space + time) universe who created us as a potter might? Do you picture God as a supreme designer who built the intricate laws of the universe as a watchmaker assembles a fine timepiece? Do you see God as a grand chess master who has an elaborate plan for the figures on his cosmic chessboard? Do you imagine the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, where the outstretched hand of Michelangelo’s God (who looks like someone’s muscular grandfather!) reaches toward Adam?
Many popular images of God resemble a Zeus-like figure, who lives in “heaven” rather than on Olympus. When we think about it, this God seems a lot like us, only much more powerful. He has emotions: he can be a “jealous God”; he can be an “angry God” or a “loving God.” We may address him as Father, Lord, or Judge. We even use the personal (and masculine) pronoun “He” in referring to God, but we capitalize it to show that “He” is greater than we are.
In other words this God is strongly anthropomorphic, a Greek word whose roots mean “human” and “form.” In the fifth century BC, Greek philosopher Xenophanes wrote, “If horses had gods, they would look like horses.”
To me these classical images of God are fraught with problems. As a teenager, when my interest in science blossomed, I began to question the theology I had been taught as a child. Why would God allow millions of children to starve in Africa or die in a genocide, yet “He” just might intervene on behalf of our favorite sports team if we prayed hard enough? Why is it that two and three thousand years ago (when human understanding of science was very different than it is today) during the age of the Biblical writers, God seemed to intervene in the world a great deal more than he does today: causing worldwide floods, parting seas, speaking from burning bushes, stopping the sun from moving across the sky, raising dead people, and sending angels to earth to deliver his message?
The common view of God as a supernatural being like us, only more powerful, is one of the principal reasons behind the rise of atheism in the Western world and the spiritual apathy of many young people today. It certainly contributed to my own questioning of the usefulness of religion. This view of God opens itself up to critiques from the likes of eighteenth-century philosopher David Hume who pointed out the logical fallacies in the traditional arguments for the existence of God, Sigmund Freud who characterized such a God as nothing more than a “projected father figure,” and twenty-first century biologist Richard Dawkins who points out the incompatibility of this God with science.
Our modern lifestyles depend on scientific principles working, not some of the time, but all of the time: would you fly in an airplane if the laws of aerodynamics only worked occasionally? We take for granted the physics behind our cell phones and TVs. We understand that solar eclipses are not a divine omen in which God turns day into night, but are predictable astronomical events caused by the moon passing between the sun and the earth. We have faith in the biological principles that allow for the medicines we create to treat our diseases – diseases that we understand today are not caused by evil spirits or divine punishment but by bacteria, viruses, and biochemical processes.
In this post-modern age in which reason and science underlie every aspect of our daily lives, which concept will lose out in the battle between God and science? I think we are seeing (unfortunately) that God is losing this battle.
Even more problematic than the incompatibility of the classical view of God with modern scientific and logical thought is that this God opens “Himself” up to the critique of being an incompetent watchmaker, an unartistic potter, and a cruel chess master. The world we live in is a messy, complicated, imperfect place, ripe with tragedy, sickness, and injustice. The traditional view of God leads to the philosophical problems caused by the existence of evil, the reality of human suffering, and the multiple religions around the world with opposing doctrines about God. How can such a God be omniscient, omnipotent, and loving at the same time?
Finally, for me, the ultimate critique of this God is that “He” is too small. A God that is seen as some kind of intelligent being living in an extra-dimensional heaven becomes just one more thing in the universe (although a powerful thing nonetheless). A God that chooses when to tinker in the workings of the universe and when not to is not only capricious but begs the question of why God didn’t make things right the first time around? In other words, this God is finite.
Does this critique of our traditional understanding of God mean that the only alternative is the atheist one?
That is what writers like Dawkins, Hitchins, and Harris want us to believe. I actually agree with much of their criticism of religion, but ultimately, I think that the version of God they are trying to disprove is nothing more than a straw-man.
As much as my rational mind wanted to reject God, something deep in my core sensed a fundamental meaning to existence. What I needed was a different way to conceive of God that didn’t require me to close my eyes to scientific knowledge, to reason, and to personal experience. How could I be true to both my intellect and my soul: my mind that must see the world in logical terms and my heart which yearns for a greater spiritual connection? In my next post, I’ll explain how my current view of God attempts to reconcile these seemingly conflicting goals. But for now, I’m interested to hear from you.
How then do you think about God in a way that works in the 21st century?
A murder at the Taj Mahal. A kidnapping in a sacred city. A desperate chase through a cliffside monastery. All in the pursuit of a legend that could link together the great religious faiths of the world.
In 1887, a Russian journalist made an explosive discovery in a remote Himalayan monastery only to be condemned and silenced for the heresy he proposed. His discovery vanished shortly thereafter.
Now, graduate student Grant Matthews journeys to the Himalayas in search of this ancient mystery. But Matthews couldn’t have anticipated the conspiracy of zealots who would go to any lengths to prevent him from bringing this secret public. Soon he is in a race to expose a truth that will change the world’s understanding of religion. A truth that his university colleagues believe is mere myth. A truth that will change his life forever—if he survives.
The Breath of God – Book Trailer
Author Jeffrey Small graduated summa cum laude from Yale University and magna cum laude from Harvard Law School. He holds a master’s degree in the study of religions from Oxford University.
Jeffrey is active in the Episcopal church, but he has also studied yoga in India, practiced Buddhist meditation in Bhutan, explored the ancient temples of Egypt, and journeyed throughout the Holy Land.
“An honest and wholehearted attempt to fulfill a task that is incumbent upon us all, whatever our faith: to . . . make our traditions speak with compassion and respect to our dangerously polarized world.” — Karen Armstrong, New York Times bestselling author of A History of God: The 4,000-Year Quest of Judaism, Christianity and Islam
Faith-based conflict and religious violence threaten our world. This timely, carefully researched, and provocative work challenges the stereotypes and misconceptions that fuel these conflicts to answer the question that lies at the nexus of faith, religion, politics, history, and current events: Can those of different faiths live together in peace?
Drawing on personal experience, history, and scripture, Muslim, Christian, and Jew exposes both the differences and similarities between Christianity, Judaism, and Islam and reveals the surprising truth about what they really teach at their core.
Dr. David Liepert, a prominent North American Muslim, recounts his own journey from Christianity to become a convert of Islam and what he learned in the process. Liepert also candidly explores how and why Islam has gone from being a religion that sustained a vibrant multicultural and multireligious civilization to the one we have today. In the end, he offers hope that Muslims, Christians, and Jews can live together in peace and that the happy ending we all crave might be closer than we think.
This important book is a call to peace — not just for Muslims, Christians, and Jews, but for all of us.
Dr. David Liepert has been active in multifaith relations for many years. He is a member of the Canadian steering committee for the Tony Blair Faith Acts Foundation and is interfaith and media director and spokesperson for the Muslim Council of Calgary and for the Sayeda Khadija Mosque and Community Center in Toronto. The recipient of numerous community awards and a much sought-after speaker, he is also vice president of the Faith of Life Network – an internationally recognized Muslim organization dedicated to helping diverse communities live together.
Dr. Liepert holds degrees and fellowships from the University of Saskatchewan, the University of British Columbia, and Stanford University in California. He converted to the Muslim faith sixteen years ago. An anesthesiologist and specialist in intensive care medicine, David Liepert currently lives with his wife and children in Calgary.
It is fashionable in interfaith discussions to advocate “tolerance” for other faiths. But we would find it patronizing, even downright insulting, to be “tolerated” at someone’s dinner table. No spouse would appreciate being told that his or her presence at home was being “tolerated.” No self-respecting worker accepts mere tolerance from colleagues. We tolerate those we consider inferior. In religious circles, tolerance, at best, is what the pious extend toward people they regard as heathens, idol worshippers or infidels. It is time we did away with tolerance and replaced it with “mutual respect.”
Religious tolerance was advocated in Europe after centuries of wars between opposing denominations of Christianity, each claiming to be “the one true church” and persecuting followers of “false religions.” Tolerance was a political “deal” arranged between enemies to quell the violence (a kind of cease-fire) without yielding any ground. Since it was not based on genuine respect for difference, it inevitably broke down.
My campaign against mere tolerance started in the late 1990s when I was invited to speak at a major interfaith initiative at Claremont Graduate University. Leaders of major faiths had gathered to propose a proclamation of “religious tolerance.” I argued that the word “tolerance” should be replaced with “mutual respect” in the resolution. The following day, Professor Karen Jo Torjesen, the organizer and head of religious studies at Claremont, told me I had caused a “sensation.” Not everyone present could easily accept such a radical idea, she said, but added that she herself was in agreement. Clearly, I had hit a raw nerve.
I then decided to experiment with “mutual respect” as a replacement for the oft-touted “tolerance” in my forthcoming talks and lectures. I found that while most practitioners of dharma religions (Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism and Sikhism) readily espouse mutual respect, there is considerable resistance from the Abrahamic faiths.
Soon afterwards, at the United Nation’s Millennium Religion Summit in 2000, the Hindu delegation led by Swami Dayananda Saraswati insisted that in the official draft the term “tolerance” be replaced with “mutual respect.” Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger (now Pope Benedict), who led the Vatican delegation, strongly objected to this. After all, if religions deemed “heathen” were to be officially respected, there would be no justification for converting their adherents to Christianity.
The matter reached a critical stage and some serious fighting erupted. The Hindu side held firm that the time had come for the non-Abrahamic religions to be formally respected as equals at the table and not just tolerated by the Abrahamic religions. At the very last minute, the Vatican blinked and the final resolution did call for “mutual respect.” However, within a month, the Vatican issued a new policy stating that while “followers of other religions can receive divine grace, it is also certain that objectively speaking they are in a gravely deficient situation in comparison with those who, in the Church, have the fullness of the means of salvation.” Many liberal Christians condemned this policy, yet it remains the Vatican’s official position.
My experiments in proposing mutual respect have also involved liberal Muslims. Soon after Sept. 11, 2001, in a radio interview in Dallas, I explained why mutual respect among religions is better than tolerance. One caller, identified as a local Pakistani community leader, congratulated me and expressed complete agreement. For her benefit, I elaborated that in Hinduism we frequently worship images of the divine, may view the divine as feminine, and that we believe in reincarnation. I felt glad that she had agreed to respect all this, and I clarified that “mutual respect” merely means that I am respected for my faith, with no requirement for others to adopt or practice it. I wanted to make sure she knew what she had agreed to respect and wasn’t merely being politically correct. The woman hung up.
In 2007, I was invited to an event in Delhi where a visiting delegation from Emory University was promoting their newly formed Inter-Religious Council as a vehicle to achieve religious harmony. In attendance was Emory’s Dean of the Chapel and Religious Life, who happens to be an ordained Lutheran minister. I asked her if her work on the Inter-Religious Council was consistent and compatible with her preaching as a Lutheran minister, and she confidently replied that it was. I then asked: “Is it Lutheran doctrine merely to ‘tolerate’ other religions or also to respect them, and by respect I mean acknowledging them as legitimate religions and equally valid paths to God”? She replied that this was “an important question,” one that she had been “thinking about,” but that there are “no easy answers.”
It is disingenuous for any faith leader to preach one thing to her flock while representing something contradictory to naive outsiders. The idea of “mutual respect” poses a real challenge to Christianity, which insists that salvation is only possible by grace transmitted exclusively through Jesus. Indeed, Lutheran teaching stresses this exclusivity! These formal teachings of the church would make it impossible for the Dean to respect Hinduism, as opposed to tolerating it.
Unwilling to settle for ambiguity, I continued with my questions: “As a Lutheran minister, how do you perceive Hindu murtis (sacred images)? Are there not official injunctions in your teachings against such images?” “Do you consider Krishna and Shiva to be valid manifestations of God or are they among the ‘false gods’?” “How do you see the Hindu Goddess in light of the church’s claim that God is masculine?” The Dean deftly evaded every one of these questions.
Only a minority of Christians agree with the idea of mutual respect while fully understanding what it entails. One such person is Janet Haag, editor of Sacred Journey, a Princeton-based multi-faith journal. In 2008, when I asked her my favorite question — “What is your policy on pluralism?” — she gave the predictable response: “We tolerate other religions.” This prompted me to explain mutual respect in Hinduism wherein each individual has the freedom to select his own personal deity (ishta-devata, not to be confused with polytheism) and pursue a highly individualized spiritual path (sva-dharma). Rather than becoming defensive or evasive, she explored this theme in her editorial in the next issue:
“In the course of our conversation about effective interfaith dialog, [Rajiv Malhotra] pointed out that we fall short in our efforts to promote true peace and understanding in this world when we settle for tolerance instead of making the paradigm shift to mutual respect. His remarks made me think a little more deeply about the distinctiveness between the words ‘tolerance’ and ‘respect,’ and the values they represent.”
Haag explained that the Latin origin of “tolerance” refers to enduring and does not convey mutual affirmation or support: “[The term] also implicitly suggests an imbalance of power in the relationship, with one of the parties in the position of giving or withholding permission for the other to be.” The Latin word for respect, by contrast, “presupposes we are equally worthy of honor. There is no room for arrogance and exclusivity in mutual respect.”
Rajiv Malhotra, (born September, 1950) is an Indian-American philanthropist, public speaker and writer on current affairs, world religions and cross-cultural encounters between east and west. A physicist and computer scientist by training, his career until his early retirement at age 44 spanned the corporate world as a senior executive, strategic consultant and a successful entrepreneur in the information technology and media industries. In 1995, he founded the Infinity Foundation, seeking to foster a better understanding of the dharma religious traditions of India (most notably Hinduism and Buddhism) both in the US and on the subcontinent.
The Foundation has given more than 400 grants for research, education and community work. Since he established his foundation, Rajiv has organized and led numerous conferences and scholarly events to address the challenges and opportunities arising from the growing encounters of civilizations east and west; his articles, blogs and books have a wide audience, and he is frequently interviewed and invited to deliver keynote addresses.
Sulak Sivaraksa, Buddhist spiritual leader and international activist, is known for advocating social change and development based on an engaged Buddhism. Over the course of his long career, he has been arrested three times for his criticism of the Thai monarchy. Katherine Marshall sat down with him recently to discuss his own spiritual journey and his vision for Buddhism.
Can you speak a bit about how you got where you are, and particularly about how faith came into play in your life?
I was born in 1933 and was brought up as a Buddhist. My parents were not very spiritual. I was sent to a Catholic school, and I got my degree from the Anglican college. I didn’t like the school. They used to treat me very badly, and they used to beat me because I didn’t want to learn by rote. My parents said, “We have tried to bring you up in a Catholic and a Protestant school. Would you like to be a monk?” I said, “Yes, why not?”
So I became a monk at the age of 13. As a monk, they treat you as a grown up. It was the first time I was able to connect with and learn about my society and my culture, because the temple was open for everyone. I was very happy.
In 1953, I went to London to study. In our family background, which was middle-class and upper-class, being educated in Britain meant that you were educated properly, and that could help you get ahead. England was the place to be. While I was in England, I joined the Buddhist Society. Mr. Christmas Humphreys, founder of the Society, was a very great man.
But I did not agree with his approach. His view was that a Buddhist must concentrate on meditation, even when they are part of the society. He said that Christian men are wrong because they got involved in society and politics and lost their spirituality. To be Buddhist, he argued, you must concentrate on meditation. I felt that he was fundamentally wrong. Meditation is a good thing, but it does not mean only looking inwards. I realized that many Buddhists were from middle-class backgrounds. They didn’t realize the suffering of the majority of our people. They didn’t even question their own lifestyles. I think that is escapism, not Buddhism.
And what came next?
I returned from England to Siam in 1961. Probably because of my British education, I was very much influenced by Plato. In The Republic, he argued that we should all become philosopher kings, and that we should lead the poor. At first, when I went home to Siam, I thought the poor were so stupid and ignorant. But when I was exposed to them, I realized that I had much to learn from them and that they had much wisdom to share with me. Ever since my return to Siam, I have become more and more involved with the poor.
To make a long story short, I feel that to practice Buddhism, you must care not only for yourself but for society. To be Buddhist, you should not only adhere to the main teachings — not killing, stealing, having sexual misconducts or lying — but you also have to consciously distance yourself from the structures of violence that frame our lives. You may not kill directly, but you kill through the social structure. You don’t steal directly, but you let the bank steal. So, I became more involved in addressing what you could term “structural violence.”
Last year, you celebrated the 20th anniversary of the founding of the International Network of Engaged Buddhists. What were some of the highlights?
A real highlight was to see and to build networks of friendships. In Buddhism, the main priority, externally, are good friends. Good friends are those who tell you what you don’t want to hear. They are your external voice of conscience. I feel we have done that for 20 years.
We have also worked to develop an important side of Buddhism. Some Buddhists, for example, the Japanese, are wonderful with funerals and with thinking of the next world, but they have no care for the present world. Now they care more for the present world, and I am happy for that. The Taiwanese Buddhists have begun to help the poor in Bangladesh and Cambodia. I say that’s good but not good enough. To help the poor is social welfare, but Buddhism demands social change. I think the Taiwanese are doing that, and I am very proud that the anniversary sees us with good friends who are challenging each other in good spirit, while we are changing.
When you look at the Buddhist establishments in Thailand, and the monks and the structures, how much of that would you say is engaged and how much of it is in a more traditional role?
The Thai monks, as a whole, cannot be completely traditional. We have been uprooted, if I may say so, because of the American hegemony. The Americans came in during the 1950s to save us from communism. They felt that Buddhism was not good because it does not teach about God, but teaches about contentment. They thought that Buddhism was all negative. I said: no sir. No to hatred, no to greed.
They came to our country with good intentions. But they wanted us to become industrialized and destroyed our whole agricultural system. Traditional Buddhism depends on farming, which was destroyed. Now, there is a new group of monks who go along with and rely on capitalism and consumerism.
Having said that, there are also some young monks who feel they must go back to the traditional Buddha. They try to understand suffering, and to see greed in the form of capitalism. They try to understand violence, hatred, ignorance and illusion in the forms of mass media and industry. There are more and more young people who are very helpful and work with us in Laos, Cambodia, Burma, India and Sri Lanka.
But they are a minority?
Yes. But, small is beautiful. And I believe that quality is more important than quantity.
What about interfaith work?
Friendship has no barriers, whether gender, nationality or faiths. Friends are friends. The Christian, the Muslim, or the atheist — they are friends. Friends must not belittle each other’s beliefs. My teacher taught that, to understand the basis of Buddhism, you have to know that there are a lot of dreadful things in Buddhism, also. He taught that Buddhism is how to learn how to change greed into generosity, hatred into compassion and friendship, delusion into wisdom and understanding. He said that other religions are the same but use different terms. They teach people to be selfless, not selfish. They teach to be brave, humble and generous. Don’t think that other religions are inferior to your own. Respect other religions as your own. Buddhadasa, my teacher, taught me that we must unite people of different faiths — whether agnostic or atheist — because they are also spiritual beings.
Can you speak a bit about how you got where you are, and particularly about how faith came into play in your life?
I was born in 1933, and was brought up as a Buddhist. As a Buddhist, you care for yourself and you care for others, and you try to clear your mind through meditation. In 1953, I went to London to study. I studied philosophy, literature, and history, in Wales. Then I worked for the BBC, and also taught at the London School of Oriental and African Studies (SOAS). I was called to the bar in London.
While I was in England, I joined the Buddhist Society. The Buddhist Society helped me to broaden my outlook. Mr. Christmas Humphreys (founder of the Society) was a very great man. But I did not agree with his approach. His view was that a Buddhist must concentrate on meditation, even when they are part of the society. He said that Christian men are wrong because they got involved in society and politics, and lost their spirituality. To be Buddhist, he argued, you must concentrate on meditation. I felt that he was fundamentally wrong. Meditation is a good thing, but it does not mean only looking inwards. I realized that most European Buddhists are from middle-class backgrounds. They didn’t realize the suffering of the majority of our people. They didn’t even question their own lifestyles. I think that is escapism, not Buddhism.
I met the great Vietnamese Buddhist leader, Thich Nach Hanh, for the first time in Ceylon (Sri Lanka), about thirty-five years ago. The World Council of Churches organized a large meeting there between Buddhists and Christians and that is where we met. He was trying to get Buddhists engaged with society, and I thought that it was a good goal.
And what came next?
I returned from England to Siam in 1961.
To make a long story short, I feel that to practice Buddhism, you must care not only for yourself but for society. Even thirty years ago, I found a number of internationally engaged Buddhists. I feel that Buddhists must care for other people – not only other Buddhists, but also other human beings. To be Buddhist, you should not only adhere to the main teachings – not killing, stealing, having sexual misconducts, or lying – but you also have to consciously distance yourself from the structures of violence that frame our lives. You may not kill directly, but you kill through the social structure. You don’t steal directly, but you let the bank steal. So, I became more involved in addressing what you could term structural violence.
Probably because of my British education, I was very much influenced by Plato. In The Republic, he argued that we should all become philosopher kings, and that we should lead the poor. At first, when I went home to Siam, I thought the poor were so stupid and ignorant. But when I was exposed to them, I realized that I had much to learn from them and that they had much wisdom to share with me. My elite upbringing gave me an idea that was wrong. We should learn from the poor, because they have so much wisdom to teach us.
Ever since my return to Siam, I have become more and more involved with the poor. I have paid the price for it; because I come from an elite background, my fighting for the poor makes my colleagues begin to feel that I have betrayed my class. On top of that, in my country, which is a constitutional monarchy, the dictators tried to make the monarchy divine. I challenge that, because in Buddhism, the king is the first among equals. Again, I pay for that.
Right now, I have three charges against me . Today is the King’s birthday. There is a lot of campaigning around the world for the King to pardon me on his birthday. In Buddhist culture, the King should release turtles, fish, and birds to give them their freedom on his birthday. He should release me from the charges, and give me freedom. I think that would be much more meaningful than giving freedom to animals. I don’t think he’ll do it. He’s a nice man, but he is also very sick now.
The International Network of Engaged Buddhists just celebrated its twentieth anniversary last week. What were the highlights?
A real highlight was to see and to build networks of friendships. Internationally as Buddhists, we have worked over the years to build up networks of friendships. In Buddhism, the main priority, externally, are good friends. Good friends are those who tell you what you don’t want to hear. They are your external voice of conscience. I feel we have done that for 20 years. We have good friends. We have Christians and Muslims as our good friends.
We have also worked to develop an important side of Buddhism. Some of our Buddhists, for example the Japanese, are wonderful with funerals and with thinking of the next world. But they have no care for the present world. Now they care more for the present world, and I am happy for that. The Taiwanese Buddhists have begun to help the poor in Bangladesh and Cambodia. I say that’s good but not good enough. To help the poor is social welfare. But Buddhism demands social change. I think the Taiwanese are doing that, and I am very proud that the anniversary sees us with good friends who are challenging each other in good spirit, while we are changing.
Also, in India, the Buddhists are the poorest of the poor. For fifty years, the Tibetan Buddhists have been in India, although they have never met those Indian Buddhists. This is because the poorest Buddhists feel that the Tibetans are foreigners and mix with the Brahmins. I was the one to bring the Dalai Lama to meet the poor Buddhists. People around him told him not to go, because he had been accepted by the Brahmins and the top intellectuals. The poor also challenged Gandhi in the same way. But the Dalai Lama said: I am a monk. If I am invited and don’t go, I am not a real monk. So he came four years ago to meet our Buddhist groups, and now the Buddhists in India are learning with the Tibetans, and are being helped. This friendship, for me, is tremendous.
Before INEB, the foundation Fellowship of World Buddhists was started in 1956 by Dr. Malarasekera from Sri Lanka. Now, these Buddhists meet every two years in five star hotels, and don’t meet the poor. Yet they think they are the best in the world. I challenge them. I tell them that if you don’t expose yourself to the poor, you are not following Buddha. There are the four noble truths, and the first truth is the truth of suffering. You have to find out the course of suffering, and to overcome suffering nonviolently.
I am happy to say that the World Fellowship of Buddhists is now changing. At one time, they wouldn’t even welcome the Tibetans. Now the Tibetans are coming, and have social justice. So, if you keep on pushing positively and cheerfully for social friendship, it will work.
Please tell us about your involvement with the World Faiths Development Dialogue. You were involved in it from the beginning.
I thought it was wonderful, as I mentioned in my opening remarks at the Parliament of the World’s Religions. Jim Wolfensohn had a good idea, and has a very open mind. I think he is committed to spirituality in a way that I have not seen from anyone else from the World Bank at his level. It’s a very good initiative. I hope you will carry on with it, more effectively. If this could influence the World Bank, IMF, and the WTO, that would be excellent. These ideas are even being discussed at Davos. A Buddhist monk, Matthieu Riccard, gave a talk there on Gross National Happiness and people were willing to listen. This is a good sign. I must say, this is something that is also due to the WFDD, not directly but indirectly. Everything links together.
What do you see happening with what you would call “development” in Thailand? What direction are things going?
The mainstream government links with international cooperation, and there is more investment taking place. The people at the bottom are challenging development, which is very curious. There is a place called Mabtaput that is heavily industrialized, where people suffer much from the pollution and are dying. Now, the people there are suing the government, and for the first time, they are winning. Secondly, the poorest people in the country are being listened to more.
So, as I see in my country for the first time, that development has been challenged by the people. The middle class are coming out to be with the poor, and the poor have been effective because deep down they are Buddhists. Deep down they are nonviolent, and deep down they have their roots. The middle class have lost their roots. They are addicted to television, and to the computer. Their family structure is broken up. Now, the middle class is listening to the poor. I am very proud of the poor. I have been working with them for the past 20-30 years, and I have been arrested because of that.
How do you see the challenges for education?
The Ministry of Education unfortunately teaches people to climb up the social ladder – socially, economically, and politically. I think that for people to become clever, without being good, is very dangerous. The Ministry of Education cannot teach people to be good. Only spiritual, religious people can do this. Religious people can be too dogmatic and too churchy, and so you need the spiritual people to help. When I received the Right Livelihood Award in 1995, I used that money to start an education movement. It has done so much now for education. Education must linger in both the heart and the head. It must be meditative, and include contemplation. You don’t need to be Buddhist, or you don’t need to be Christian. The idea is to be spiritual in the heart and the head. You have to expose yourself to suffering, and if you are middle class, you need to work with the poor.
So it’s a set of schools and networks?
It’s an educational alternative to the Ministry. Now, the Ministry has invited us to work with them. This year, we have created a school of well-being, in collaboration with the center of Bhutan Studies in Thimphu. They feel that to be clever is not enough, and that you have to be happy. We have contributed that in a small way to the country. The Ministry has invited us to help them. Even business people have asked us to help them. Social Venture Networks try to be different and don’t want to be goody-goody, but want to care for the labor unions and the environment. They don’t want to advertise lies. We are working with them, also in Burma, Laos, Sri Lanka, India, Bangladesh, and Cambodia.
Are you working through alternative education?
Yes. The first day I arrived here, the monks from Burma came to talk to us. They said they have been influenced by us. They have become more and more positive. At one time, the Burmese monks felt they had bad karma that caused dreadful dictatorships. I say, that is not true Buddhism. In Buddhism, bad karma can be changed with goodwill, through restructuring consciousness and by challenging the regime through good friends. They are now doing that in Burma.
How do you manage the challenges of the politics you’re involved in? Challenging the King, challenging the generals?
I don’t challenge the kings or the generals. I challenge the system. I feel the King is a nice but weak man. He has no good friends, and I feel sorry for him. Some generals are wonderful people but they feel that there are so many enemies around. I say the worst enemy is in yourself! In the South they think the Muslim is the enemy. I say, no, the enemy is corruption in yourself!
Some of the generals are now taking me seriously and have asked me to help them and teach them about nonviolence. They even asked me to solve the issue in the South, because they know I have friends in Malaysia like Anwar Ibrahim. I’ve known Anwar since he was a student leader thirty years ago. I knew Abdurrahman Wahid, former president of Indonesia, thirty years ago. They are helping me. Friendship is for me the most important thing. Friendship and networks.
What about health care?
Health is important. It is not only physical health that is important, but also mental, spiritual, and social health. Society also must not be sick, and the environment should be healthy. In the Buddhist context, the Buddha said that the best thing in life is health.
But does the Buddhist system have a tradition of hospitals, like the Catholics? Is it involved in a systematic way?
I think that that is the wrong conception. The first hospital was founded by Ashoka, the great King, more than 2,300 years ago. It was a hospital not only for humans but also for animals. The western concept is different, in that it is separate from the religion. We have hospitals, but not as a separate institution. The hospitals are in religious areas, they are in the temples. The temple cures the sick while helping the poor. It’s holistic, and it’s not compartmentalized like in the West.
Now, the Thai government has adopted more of the Western system, where patients stay on the bed and are only seen between 8 o’clock and 5 o’clock. Now, things are changing. They have a Shaman come in with holy water. In the past ten years, things have been changing. If I may say so, I played a small role in that.
How did that role happen?
Friendships. I’ve known some of the doctors from when they were very young. They regard me as a friend. Some of them I have helped. I tell them, “Whatever you do, you must understand your roots! Your own culture. There may be something that is not entirely positive. It may be a little bit negative, but it’s there.”
So, you’re seeing a difference in the whole approach to health in Thailand? Is there an official role for the temples?
Yes. Once I proposed that temples look after HIV. They were shocked, and said that HIV came from nuisance sets activities. One monk, whose name was Alongkot, was convinced that his temple could help HIV patients. He became very famous. Now, his whole temple is a hospice. The good thing about me is that I sell initiatives. I’m good at initiatives.
What are your main priorities now?
I’m an old man now. I try to do less because I feel I have built up good friendships that I think can carry on. Sometimes, they come to ask me for advice. But, the younger people can carry the friendships on much better.
When you look at the Buddhist establishments in Thailand, and the monks and the structures, how much of that would you say is engaged and how much of it is in a more traditional role?
The Thai monks, as a whole, cannot be completely traditional. We have been uprooted, if I may say so, because of the American hegemony. The Americans came in during the 1950’s, to save us from Communism. They felt that Buddhism was not good because it does not teach about God, but teaches about contentment. They thought that Buddhism was all negative. I said: no sir, no to hatred, no to greed.
They came to our country with good intentions. But they wanted us to become industrialized, and destroyed our whole agricultural system. Traditional Buddhism depends on farming, which was destroyed. Now, there is a new group of monks who go along with and rely on capitalism and consumerism.
Having said that, there are also some young monks who feel they must go back to the traditional Buddha. They try to understand suffering, and to see greed in the form of capitalism. They try to understand violence, hatred, ignorance, and illusion in the forms of mass media and industry. There are more and more young people who are very helpful and work with us in Laos, Cambodia, Burma, India, and Sri Lanka.
But they are a minority?
Yes. But, small is beautiful. And I believe that quality is more important than quantity.
What about gender relations in Buddhism?
The Buddha taught that men and women are equal, but we have oppressed women over the years. We now have women ordinations, but we are the only country to do so in mainland SE Asia. There are also women ordained by a man in Perth, Australia, but he was ostracized by his order. In Burma, they put the women in jail for being ordained. The monk who ordained the women was also shut out from his village and community. They are much more backwards than in my country. There are still very few women monks, but more and more.
The male monks are behaving very badly, while the female monks behave beautifully. The female monks have spiritual depth, intellectual power, and authority. In Taiwan, there are better nuns than monks. Some monks have sex and financial scandals, but none for the nuns who are more numerous than monks.
Do you see tremendous differences amongst Buddhists in different countries?
Well, you make it into black and white. You care for suffering, the poor, the environment, even though you speak in different languages. Those who are not engaged with the poor sometimes become nationalistic, like in Sri Lanka. They become involved in capitalism, superstition, and so on. But you don’t claim to be better than them – you have to work with them.
There is a movement in my country called Santi Ashoka that is thirty years old. It first was very fundamentalist, but is now much more mature. Once they regarded me as the enemy, but I told them that the best friend is the one who tells you what you don’t want to hear. They are wonderful people, and listen to criticism. They are widespread in the country.
What about Cambodia? Have you been very involved there?
Cambodia is much more difficult. I used to be involved there in the resurrection of the Sangha, celebrating its first anniversary with the march from our ashram to Cambodia. We worked with the great leader, Patriarch Maha Ghosananda. We supported his peace march tremendously. But unfortunately, it was largely a one-man show. Following the leader’s death, the movement was not so strong. There’s no leadership right now. Secondly, the government is very dictatorial. It is very complicated, but there are good things when you think about it.
What about on the environmental movement? You’re not going to Copenhagen?
No, I am not going, but I am very concerned about the environment.
It seems that Buddhism has very strong roots that give it a very environmental message for the respect for life.
Yes, in fact, in the late 1960’s, the World Council of Churches requested that the Buddhists teach them. I shared everything from Buddhism. I taught them that living beings are not only animals, but also plants and trees, and that we must care for all. We are all interconnected; we are taught that without trees we could not live. The Buddha himself told us to look at trees as examples. Of course, the Buddha himself was one with the trees. He was born under a tree, enlightened under a tree. He preached the first sermon in a deer park. He died under a tree. The tree is very important to us, and we must care for the forests and for the environment. In my country, we have a movement for ordaining trees. Once trees are ordained, they cannot be cut. This movement helps to preserve trees. Max Weiner is one who has helped to spread a trend which is to ordain trees. He was from Harvard. When the tree is ordained, no one can cut it. So there is a movement to preserve the trees, working with the monks.
What about interfaith work? How do you see the Parliament turning ideals into practice?
It’s a network of friends. Friendship has no barriers, whether gender, nationality, or faiths. Friends are friends. The Christian, Muslim, or the Atheist – they’re friends. Friends must not belittle each other’s beliefs. My teacher taught that, to understand the basis of Buddhism, you have to know that there are a lot of dreadful things in Buddhism, also. He taught that Buddhism is how to learn how to change greed into generosity, hatred into compassion and friendship, delusion into wisdom and understanding. He said that other religions are the same but use different terms. They teach people to be selfless, not selfish. They teach to be brave, humble, and generous. Don’t think that other religions are inferior to your own. Respect other religions as your own. Buddhadasa, my teacher, taught me that we must unite people of different faiths – whether agnostic, or atheist – because they are also spiritual beings.
Taking this back to my questions from the beginning for a moment – you were raised in a Buddhist framework? How did your parents instill that?
My parents were not very spiritual. I was sent to a Catholic school, and I got my degree from the Anglican college. But, in the war, my Catholic school was bombed and we had to move.
I didn’t like the school. They used to treat me very badly, and they used to beat me because I didn’t want to learn by rote. I didn’t like it. My parents said, “We have tried to bring you up in a Catholic and a Protestant school. Would you like to be a monk?” I said, “Yes, why not?” So I became a monk at the age of thirteen. I didn’t leave because I loved it. As a monk, they treat you as a grown up. They pay respect to you because of your yellow robes, and I like to be paid respect to. It was the first time I was able to connect with and learn about my society and my culture, because the temple was open for everyone. I was very happy.
And how did you happen to go to London?
In our family background, which was middle class and upper class, being educated in Britain meant that you were educated properly and that could help you get ahead. England was the place to be. That’s why, when I was called to the bar, I thought I would become Prime Minister!
After the 1932, Coup which ended the absolute monarchy, a number of our princes who were shut out of power were in England. I met a marvelous princess there, who later became the first to open a Siamese restaurant abroad, 1957. Her father would have become King of Siam. But of course, he was pushed out and died in exile. She was a lovely lady, and said to me, “Sulak, my ambition is to work as a charwoman in front of the English public lavatory. The English lavatory is not that dirty, and maybe I could do some knitting.” Her own father could have been a King, and she her grandfather was a great king, but this was her ambition! But this was Buddhism. That was when I gave up my ambition to climb up the ladder and become somebody great.
Katherine Marshall
Katherine Marshall is a Senior Fellow at the Berkley Center for Religion, Peace, and World Affairs, where she leads the Center’s program on Religion and Global Development. After a long career in the development field, including several leadership positions at the World Bank, Marshall moved to Georgetown in 2006, where she also serves as a Visiting Associate Professor in the Department of Government.
She helped to create and now serves as the Executive Director of the World Faiths Development Dialogue.
Marshall has close to four decades of experience on a wide range of development issues in Africa, Latin America, East Asia, and the Middle East, with a focus on issues facing the world’s poorest countries. She led the World Bank’s faith and ethics work between 2000-06. Marshall graduated from Wellesley College and has an MPA from the Woodrow Wilson School of Public and International Affairs at Princeton University.
She is the author of several books about religion and development, including (co-authored with Marisa Van Saanen) Development and Faith: Where Mind, Heart and Soul Work Together (World Bank, 2007) and (with Lucy Keough) Mind, Heart and Soul in the Fight against Poverty (World Bank, 2004). She also has written extensively on international development, also the focus of her most recent book, The World Bank: from Reconstruction to Development to Equity (Routledge, 2008). She writes a blog, “Faith in Action,” for the Newsweek/Washington Post website On Faith.
Ms. Marshall serves on the Boards of several NGOs and on advisory groups. Assignments include several years as a core group member of the Council of 100, an initiative of the World Economic Forum to advance understanding between the Islamic World and the West, and membership on the Council on Foreign Relations. She is a Trustee of Princeton University. She serves on the board of IDEA (International Development Ethics Association) and as advisor to several non-governmental organizations, including CARE. She has served as co-moderator of the Fes Forum, which has been part of the Fes Festival of World Sacred Music since its inception. She speaks and publishes widely on issues of international development.
Katherine Marshall is a Senior Fellow at the Berkley Center for Religion, Peace, and World Affairs, where she leads the Center’s program on Religion and Global Development. After a long career in the development field, including several leadership positions at the World Bank, Marshall moved to Georgetown in 2006, where she also serves as a Visiting Associate Professor in the Department of Government. She helped to create and now serves as the Executive Director of the World Faiths Development Dialogue.
Katherine Marshall discusses religious leaders and environmental concerns. She is a Senior Fellow at the Berkley Center for Religion, Peace, and World Affairs, where she leads the Center’s Program on Religion and Global Development. Faith Complex is a co-production of the Berkley Center for Religion, Peace and World Affairs,
This article was originally written for the Common Ground News Service, a non-profit initiative of Search for Common Ground, an international NGO whose mission is to transform the way the world deals with conflict – away from adversarial confrontation towards cooperative solutions.
More than two thirds of the world’s population – over four billion people – identify with one religion or another. Imagine the motivational energy of these four billion people used as a positive force for global social change. Whether tackling issues of poverty, disease, health, energy, education, gender inequality or any urgent challenge facing our world today, the possibilities are endless with four billion minds and eight billion hands working together.
This is the potential power of faith.
Incredible, isn’t it?
Designing and developing a movement, a Global Interfaith Volunteer Corps, to professionally bring together members of different faiths in acts of public service internationally, nationally and locally is one possible way to spark this flame. The goal of such interaction is to demystify the “other” through joint engagement in activities and initiatives that benefit not only their own communities but also society at large.
Many believers already serve their communities and each other in a multitude of ways, such as volunteering at their local church, synagogue, mosque or temple. The Global Interfaith Volunteer Corps, however, would be aimed at a much larger concern brought upon our world by rapid globalisation. As the world becomes increasingly interconnected, tensions begin to flair. This mounting of tension was best described by His Highness the Aga Khan, leader of the Ismaili Muslim community and Chairman of the Aga Khan Development Network, at a recent speech on pluralism in Toronto:
“The variety of the world is not only more available, it is nearly inescapable. Human difference is more proximate – and more intense…. Almost everything now seems to “flow” globally – people and images, money and credit, goods and services, microbes and viruses, pollution and armaments, crime and terror. But let us remember, too, that constructive impulses can also flow more readily, as they do when international organisations join hands across dividing lines.”
Service on the basis of shared beliefs and common ethics can take the shape of local, national and international character. At the local level, multi-faith initiatives can be designed to engage with homeless shelters, heath clinics and special-needs schools. At the national level, joint action plans can be devised amongst faith advocates of all stripes to advance women’s rights, children’s education and environmental stewardship.
And at the international level, increased collaboration between faith-based humanitarian services, joint statements by different faith communities drawing attention to under-reported injustice and inequity, and inter-religious calls to drawdown global nuclear stockpiles are all possible when walls that divide are replaced with bridges that unite. Such multi-religious endeavours not only introduce one faith base to another, but they also build trust amongst different kinds of believers.
The idea of creating a Global Interfaith Volunteer Corps, then, is not simply about creating acceptance and shared religious understanding. It is also about ingraining a broader ethic of pluralism, of accepting and understanding difference – religiously, ethnically, culturally and linguistically.
The volunteer corps could serve as a global entity to increase collaboration amongst religious institutions, faith-based organisations and faith-inspired initiatives, ultimately becoming a forum from which pluralism of all sorts can develop and emanate.
A group of religious leaders could be appointed to local, national and international community councils of multi-faith action. These leaders must be courageous, open and willing to engage. Above all, they would need to set an example for their followers in both thought and action. Imagine these community councils replicated – town-by-town and city-by-city – across the country and around the world.
The differences among us, while important and pronounced, pale in comparison to our commonalities. Generosity, compassion, kindness, forgiveness, respect, charity and acceptance do not belong to any one religion, but are the raw materials that bind the fabric of our faiths together. This sense of shared commitment to the common good, guided by different religious traditions, is perhaps the biggest resource for meeting the challenges of the 21st century.
We must humanise each other’s beliefs by collectively engaging in active citizenship and service to others.
And we must start somewhere, for as famed cultural anthropologist Margaret Mead once said, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
Rahim Kanani is pursuing his second master’s at Harvard Divinity School in religion, ethics and politics, where he focuses on Islamic studies, human rights, and international security policy.
In addition to being a frequent contributor to the Huffington Post, Rahim has also been published in the Ottawa Citizen, the San Francisco Chronicle, the UAE’s Khaleej Times, Indonesia’s Bali Times, and the International Herald Tribune/New York Times. He has worked with Harvard Kennedy School’s Carr Center for Human Rights Policy, Harvard School of Public Health’s Program on Humanitarian Policy and Conflict Research, Harvard’s Pluralism Project, Amnesty International’s USA Headquarters, the U.S. Military Academy’s Combating Terrorism Center at West Point, and various United Nations agencies focusing on issues of international torture and gender violence in conflict zones.
RICHARD HOOPER, M.DIV.
