AU Wackerlin Center for Faith and Action
Monthly Musings
October 2006
When I’m purchasing pants, I’m not usually concerned with
brand names. Wrangler, Puritan, Abercrombie (OK, I don’t buy Abercrombie;
I have standards), etc. To me, a pair of pants is simply a pair of pants.
Some are denim, some are khaki, and some are slacks, but they all cover
the legs and hold loose change. And some of them look exceedingly good
with my Cole Haan Italian loafers.
But then again, pants are simply pieces of clothing, and if we’re
not celebrities, the style and brand of pants we wear aren’t usually
called into question. Likewise, the brand of car we drive doesn’t
really matter; Ford sedan, Pontiac coupe or Dodge truck. For our automobiles
and our pants, we make personal choices that reflect what we’re
looking for in our day-to-day lives. We have to wear clothes and we have
to travel. So why are some personal choices such important things, and
why do some people take the little choices of others so to heart?
When I started investigating the claims of religious truth of this planet’s
various faith communities, I was naturally searching for similarities.
I found them. Lots of them. Some people worshipped Parvathi, some Ahura-Mazda,
and others revered their own ancestors. I began to see religious expression
in terms of little choices of no real differentiation, much in the same
way that I saw different pairs of pants. I assumed that all Goddesses
or Gods were just different expressions of the same ultimate reality,
which in a way is true, and I got very angry when I saw intolerance and
violence that was motivated by religion. I thought, “Why on earth
can’t these people get along? They’re all essentially praying
to the same thing!” Or are they?
I mentioned that I used to get exasperated when I saw various faiths
failing to basically forget their differences and realize that we’re
all heading to the same place (though not in the handbasket that some
think of). I was a religious relativist; not a “spiritual being” as
some would claim, but someone who failed to understand why there are
problems between faiths. But I was reminded of the whole “variety
is the spice of life” school of thought. I don’t like the
phrase, so I substitute my love of food for an analogy.
I like soup. I really like soup. But with soup, I’m generally eating
something that, while perhaps containing bits of corn or barley, is mostly
a homogeneous mixture. That’s fine, as long as the taste is there
to back it up, but my real love is stew. Big, thick, chunky stew. Stew
with nearly-whole potatoes and carrots. Stew that is equally solid and
liquid. A beautiful combination of all sorts of ingredients that comes
together to produce a taste and texture that is guaranteed to make a
person smile. Stew that sticks to the bones. As long as each separate
ingredient (vegetables, meat [soy], broth and spices) is obvious in the
mix, the end result is so, so good. I would prefer to view the world’s
religious traditions as a stew. The variety of all the different pieces
is what makes it taste so good. Sure, we all get chewed up and swallowed
in the end, but up until that point, our tastes should compliment each
other greatly. Yum.
I’m not a relativist by any means, but without the ability to choose
diverse paths for ourselves and make personal choices that may be wildly
different from each other, how can we guarantee that when we do get chewed
up, we don’t taste bad?
Whatever the case, I’m got to figure out which pants I’m
wearing tonight. There’s a dinner party I have to attend. There
are choices to be made, of course, but whatever brand I choose, I’m
fairly certain no one is going to deride me for it. And it’s possible
that the shoes won’t match the slacks, but that’s a risk
I’m prepared to take.
— Tim Brauhn
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