There was a stage in my spiritual and theological development when I was influenced by fundamentalism, and with it, tended towards a puritan-like extreme; it began in middle school, and, to some degree, continued with me until my Freshman year in college. How it affected me changed over time. For example, I was a major fan of role-playing games, and in the horror genre, and owned many games and novels which I would eventually sell because I came to believe that they were tainted by evil. After I got beyond that stage, I would buy back many of the novels I sold, like the works of H.P. Lovecraft, but I would not do the same with the games I lost (as it would be much more difficult to do so). Despite this, I remained interested in science fiction and fantasy, especially the works of the Inklings. I was also interested in theology, and the history of Christianity. I was trying to understand the history of Protestantism, reading especially the works of Luther and Calvin (preferring Luther to Calvin), even as I found myself reading various philosophical classics (if and when I found a book at the local used bookstore which interested me, leading me to read works from Descartes, Pascal, and St. Thomas Aquinas, among many others). I also began reading patristics, starting with the Apostolic Fathers, and various works of St. Augustine (such as an abridged copy of the City of God). Because of my study, I was already beginning my journey that would lead me away from fundamentalism, although at the time I would have denied it (and shown considerable hostility towards Catholicism
It was my reading of the Inklings, especially C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien, which allowed me to complete my move beyond fundamentalism. They introduced to me a more open-ended perspective due to their views on myth and how myth, in whatever culture or religious tradition it is found in, represented or taught truths which connected in various ways to the truth of the Gospel. That is, I learned how to consider the way religious traditions, through their myths, revealed truths which were fulfilled in Christ (or, as C.S. Lewis wrote, in Christ, myth became fact). This led me reconsider my understanding of other religious traditions, allowing me to see that the Holy Spirit has been inspiring humanity throughout the whole of human history. This perspective was reinforced as I continued to read Ante-Nicene apologists like St. Justin Martyr, St. Clement of Alexandria, and even Eusebius, as the pointed out how God prepared the world for the incarnation. Justin suggested that many pagans who lived before Christ could be seen as serving Christ, and so be said to be pre-Christian Christian, affirming that they have something worthwhile for us to consider. St. Clement of Alexandria, among others, suggested philosophers could be seen as influenced by God, as they served pagans in a way the prophets served the people of Israel. Many others even suggested that the Sibyls could be seen to have been inspired by the Holy Spirit, making them prophets. Once I accepted this notion, I quickly desired to study what I could from many religious traditions, to see the rays of truth found in all religious traditions. This related to my academic study at the time, which was the field of Religious Studies; while I initially entered the program to focus exclusively on Christianity, I became interested in study many other religious traditions (leading me to take coursework in Hinduism and Sufism). I quickly saw how many of these rays of truths had not properly been studied by Christians, and if they did study them and take them on, Christian theology could further develop, similar to the way it did when Christian theology engaged Platonism during the patristic era, or Aristotle (and Jewish and Muslim theology) during the scholastic era.
While this perspective opened me up to study many other religious traditions, including Hinduism, it took me much longer to do so with Buddhism. I was not too familiar with Buddhist thought, however, I had been given the impression that it was a nihilistic tradition, and as such, I believed it denied the positive insight I found in other religious faiths. It was only years later, when I was working in Bloomington Indiana, that I would take the plunge into Buddhism and find a system of thought which enchanted me and had so much for me to learn from and engage than I could ever imagine. How did that happen? When I returned from a trip to Egypt, where I had visited Cairo, Alexandria, and Mt. Sinai, I learned that the Dalai Lama was going to be in town; though I was not interested in going to any of his public presentations, I knew that his brother lived in town and owned a restaurant, the Snow Lion. I decided to eat at the restaurant, especially as I heard it had good food. When my friend and I went to dine there, the restaurant had a few books on Buddhism for sale. Seeing them, I began to think I had not yet given Buddhism the opportunity I had given other religious faiths, and it was time for me to do so. I decided to pick up and read the Dalai Lama’s introduction to Tibetan Buddhism. When I read it, I discovered most of what I was led to believe about Buddhism was wrong; Buddhism was not nihilistic at all, indeed, nihilism was viewed as one of the grave errors that needed to be rejected. What was viewed as nihilism was its philosophical and religious engagement with the methodology that I had by that time come to study and learn in Christianity found in and with apophaticism (such as seen in the works of Pseudo-Dionysius). Once I realized this, it made me want to study and pursue the great thinkers of the Buddhist tradition, to learn how they engaged apophaticism, and what I could learn from them, because it was clear, they took the methodology further, using it for all kinds of logical analysis, which Christian thinkers had yet to do. And yet, as I saw how vast Buddhism was as a religion, I knew I could not explore every tradition in depth, which is why I decided to take a few schools of thought and focus on them (while still taking time to read from other traditions, albeit in a more cursory manner). What I decided to engage were the basic discourses of the Buddha from the Pali Canon, the works coming out of the Yogācāra tradition (especially those associated with Asaṅga and Vasubandhu), and Zen.
Today, my understanding of world religions and their relationship with Christianity is much more complex than it was when I found myself initially interested in and open to studying them. I have read more from Christian history and those who promoted some form of engagement with various philosophical and religious traditions, as, for example, Nicholas of Cusa’s De Pace Fidei. I have read the works of Marsilio Ficino, who especially was interested in “perennial philosophy” and its connection to Christian theology. I have studied Vladimir Solovyov and his attempt to explore the history of religion and connect it with God’s work with humanity. I have studied many theologies of religion, many forms of comparative religious study, and found myself through them, drawn to the notion of comparative theology, finding that it embraces most what I want to do with my study of other religions. Comparative theology, when done right, expects a lot from its practitioner. It is does more than look at and compare some religious element from two or more religious traditions; it asks what a practitioner from a particular tradition can learn from that comparison, that is, how what they have learned should influence their own theological notions. It requires them, therefore, to start with comparison, making sure they study and understand the issue in question and how it relates first to the religions involved, from the perspective of the religious tradition. That is, there needs to be a proper understanding of the religions under discussion, which usually means, it will take years before one is ready to properly do a comparative analysis and make some sort of theological insight due to that comparison. If they do not do this, it is easy to lead to a false understanding of the religious traditions involved, and come to some sort of distorted conclusion. In relation to my theological work, I found myself especially engaging comparative theology connected Buddhism and Christianity (though, I would also engage Judaism, Islam, and Hinduism to a lesser degree). It was only by studying and understanding what Yogācāra means by the three Natures, or Mādhyamaka means about the middle way and the two truths, was I able to see what those notions entail and discern what about them can be used in my own Christian theological reflections. While some might suggest comparative theology leads to syncretism, and to be sure, that is a danger, comparative theology tries to undermine that by keeping in mind the distinctions, making sure they are not lost or forgotten when theological reflection emerges. Thus, now, in many of my writings, much of what I have learned (and still learn) from my study of other religions, especially Buddhism, is taken into consideration and used, hopefully to the benefit of my own theological thought. And if someone would complain, I would point out Christian theology has, from its inception, been engaging comparative theology, and theology would not have developed as we know if without Christians engaging non-Christian thought.
* This Is Part XXXIX Of My Personal Reflections And Speculations Series
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