The University of North Carolina at Charlotte
“When that sick
old mythology claimed you as its prize, you pulled the arrow out yourself but
the poison’s still inside.” Mares of Thrace, “… And the Bird Surgeon”
My religion courses are full of belief. By this I mean that, for most students (and
many other people, for that matter), “belief” is the primary default concept
when it comes to religion. Many of us are socially habituated to assume that
religion is first and foremost about belief and—even more—that what one
believes is the basis for an individual’s action. And when those actions don’t
follow the dictates laid out in institutional dogma and canonical text, some
students are ready to make moral judgments. In my American religions course, we
look at examples of Protestants who hold to ideas about reincarnation, the
existence of ghosts, and that the power of positive thinking can change the
physical world through mental will alone. This mixing of practices and ideas
from a variety of cultural sources is not unusual, but rather something people
do all the time. But it is not unusual for students to scoff, viewing
descriptions of such blending as not merely ethnographic observations, but
rather as evidence for the inauthenticity of the practitioners’ Protestantism. What
could be a scholarly examination of religious practice becomes instead a
theological act of calling out heresies and upholding orthodoxy—not about what
people think and do, but about what some think people should think and do.
Given this, one of the things I work on in
our undergraduate majors theory and methods class, Orientation to the Study of
Religion, is to get students to question their assumption that whatever we call
“religion” must always be primarily about belief. The initial way I approach
this is through discussing definitions of religion. On one of the first days we
spend the whole period (nearly three hours with a 15 minute break in the middle)
discussing what might be meant by the term “religion.” We look at some abbreviated scholarly
definitions of religion, including excerpts by Durkheim, James, Wallace,
Albanese, and Geertz. I always include
this sentence by Talal Asad as one of the passages to consider: “My argument is
that there cannot be a universal definition of religion, not only because its
constituent elements and relationships are historically specific, but because
that definition is itself the historical product of discursive processes.” After we look at and try some initial
unpacking of the definitions, I put the students into small groups and give
them a short period of time to come up with their own definition (or
non-definition) of religion. I also give them this list of “red flag” words
that they are not allowed to use in their definition:
- spiritual/spirituality
- belief
- experience
- “the sacred,” “the holy,” or “the transcendent”
- faith
- mystical
By the end of the class period, my goal
is to have students starting to think about what kinds of work defining
religion in particular ways does. In the
following weeks we look at terms such as “belief” and “spiritual” and ask
similar questions. Why, I ask, do many of us prefer “belief” to “practice” in
our everyday conversations about religion? By the end of the semester, when we
revisit the topic of religion definitions (to see if our conversation has
changed), belief is still the default concept to which some return. Like the arrow’s poison in the Mares of
Thrace song above, the concept remains embedded. Habits are hard to break, and
belief is hard to shake.
Great post. This is such a great exercise. I'm particularly intrigued by your use of short passages in the opening course and would be interested in learning more. Are they handouts? Short paragraphs on a powerpoint slide? I'm curious about the length and level of a source you've found students able to process in class.
ReplyDeleteCan you really write down Talal Asad's naive historio-relativism without turning red? When he says, “my argument is that there cannot be a universal definition of religion, not only because its constituent elements and relationships are historically specific, but because that definition is itself the historical product of discursive processes”, he either is speaking from the point of view of the "absolute" itself/time or he is simply not considering the performative contradiction in his sentence... because he insinuates that his statement is true for every context and every time. I myself are done with such naive politically biased work on religion.
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