Reading Religion in Text and Context

Reflections of Faith and Practice in Religious Materials

Peter Collins, Elisabeth Arweck, Elisabeth Arweck

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2017
• ISBN:
  9781351906494
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Theology & Religion
• Subtopic: Religion

To what extent is religion inherently textual? What might the term 'textual' mean in relation to religious faith and practice? These are the two key questions addressed by the eleven thought-provoking essays collected in this volume. Accounts of the content and structure of sacred texts are commonplace. The rather more adventurous aim of this book is to disclose (within the context of religion) the various ways in which meaning can be read of more or less obviously sacred writing and from discourses such as the body, the built and natural environment, drama and ritual.

CHAPTER 1

Reading Religion in Text and Context:
An Introduction

Peter Collins and Elisabeth Arweck

… the style appropriate to a message will co-ordinate all the channels.

Mary Douglas (1973, p. 100)

Let us begin our introductory chapter with a consideration of this rather terse quotation from the social anthropologist Mary Douglas. The text, Natural Symbols, ‘not intended solely for anthropologists’ (Douglas, 1973, p. 7), from which the quote is extracted, is a brilliant account in the Durkheimian tradition, in which Douglas is primarily concerned with the relationship between embodied or ‘natural’ symbols and the cosmology embraced by members of a particular culture. Although eschewing the explicit ‘cosmology = society’ equation in Durkheimian social theory, we believe that Douglas captures much of what we are about. We are interested in the channels, or texts (our alternative term), through which religious meaning is communicated. Our aim is to foreground the variety of channels one may encounter in the exploration of a group’s faith and practice.

In the case of several of the papers presented here (Simon Coleman and Kim Knott and, to some extent, Ewan Ingleby) Douglas’s focus on the body is particularly relevant. While the remaining contributors are primarily concerned with symbolic systems other than the body – music (Nancy Schaefer), the landscape (Vibha Arora), printed texts from the canonic (James Sweeney and, to some extent, Paul Chambers) to the vernacular (Malcolm Gold), material culture (Ian Williams) and architecture (Peter Collins) – Douglas’s dictum illuminates each. However, the extent to which a group of texts exhibits a homogeneous style is necessarily open to interpretation and cannot be assumed a priori.

In terms less familiar to Douglas, each paper in this collection deals with one particular kind of text, one conduit of meaning in relation to one – or in Knott’s case, several – different cosmologies. In this context, by ‘texts’ we mean all those sign systems through which the religious is made manifest. Therefore, the papers collected here are both complete in themselves and also partial, to the extent that they are fragments of what might be described as ethnographies. The papers represent partial ethnographies to the extent that each implies a range of other channels which, although absent, could together present ‘a style appropriate to the message’ – indeed some of these other channels have been identified and interpreted by these same authors in previous publications (for example, Coleman is engaged in an ongoing attempt to understand Swedish Charismatic Christians – Coleman, 1991; 1996; 2000; 2002). For each cosmology there has to be a group of individuals who represent or express that cosmology in various ways. The methodology which up until now best captures the range of these ‘channels’ in the case of any particular culture is ethnography. While it has often been the case that a particular academic discipline has felt confident enough to speak for all disciplines in identifying the ‘style appropriate to a message’ (and we are thinking in particular of theology here), it is a misplaced confidence to the extent that theology foregrounds just one kind of text: the written canon, generally omitting discussion of the potential to represent a cosmology, present in all those other kinds of text. Theology has been primarily concerned with printed, canonic texts, texts which present a partial interpretation of the message, in both senses of the word: partial in its favouring of particular groups within a culture (often the literate, the powerful, the male and so forth) and partial in the sense of being incomplete. It would also be fair to add, however, that there are also theologies and theologians of a certain disposition who do explore the meanings of various sign systems over and above the printed canon.

Ethnography has as its goal a holistic vision of a culture. Although the goal is almost certainly impossible to achieve (and we shall return to this point below), it remains important both for moral and intellectual reasons. It is morally significant in that the ethnographic ideal is the inclusion of all points of view. In Douglas’s terms we should remember that channels of meaning are not always available to all members of a culture and that when we focus on a single channel (for instance, the printed canonic text), we diminish the faith and practice of those, perhaps the overwhelming majority, who for one reason or another are forced to use other channels or who use the same channel (printed texts), but with different outcomes. It is intellectually significant in so far as the description and analysis of multiple channels provides a ready means of ‘triangulating’the meaning(s) generated by each. While we think it likely that a common ‘style’is the likely result across these various channels, this is by no means an a priori, it is, rather, an assumption, which must be supported or discarded on the basis of empirical research and careful interpretation.

Why then present a series of papers which are of themselves partial? The simple reason is that by presenting readers with a variety of religious texts, we aim to equip them with the means of reaching a better understanding of this or that cosmology or of cosmology more generally. We present, here, a range of actual texts through which religious meanings are made manifest. It is up to the reader to participate in the discussion prompted by these papers. For instance, given the meanings generated by the ‘architectural channel’ of British Quakerism, which other channels might be described and analysed in order to better understand the message and ‘style’ of this cosmology? Canonic texts, vernacular texts, the demeanour of Quakers, their liturgy, their formal organization, the kind of informal talk they engage in – not all channels will be operational in the case of every cosmology but it is the scholar’s duty to discover which are operational and the extent to which they are available to all members. It might then be possible to go on to compare the meanings generated across channels and to discover the extent to which a single characteristic message and ‘style’does emerge for that group.

Douglas is an unusually provocative observer of the religious life. However, we would prefer to present a rather more contingent and open analysis of the channels that comprise a cosmology than her analysis implies. Such channels may be activated in one era (the eleventh century) but not in another (the twenty-first century); they may involve the entire culture (the English) or a part thereof (women, the aristocracy); the meanings produced may be central to one group and tangential to another; they may have significance in this place (the Vatican) but not in that (a shanty town in Brazil). It is the ethnographer’s task to discover the valency of those channels s/he comes to identify.

Ethnography, as a holistically-inclined endeavour, necessarily emphasizes the range of texts in any particular culture. Traditionally, the role of anthropology, as a discipline, has been to compare the findings of ethnographers in order to formulate generalizations. Although not every anthropologist would accept this as his/her agenda, it remains a common practice within the discipline. Morris (1987) indicates that there are many ethnographies of religious groups from which to choose, but for our present purpose, John Hostetler’s account of the Amish is as good as any (Hostetler, 1980). This is a wide-ranging and insightful account of the faith and practice (and therefore the cosmology) of one particular faith group. Hostetler has written extensively on the Amish (see, for instance, Hostetler, 1956; 1963; 1976; Hostetler and Huntington, 1971); while the text in focus (Amish Society) is in some ways a distillation of much earlier work, it remains, as it must, a partial ethnography. It is partial because the possibility of further (and different readings) is ever present. There is the possibility of discovering new ‘facts’ as the ‘history’ of the Amish continues to unfold, for example the recent decision to build a private psychiatric centre for members of the Old Order Amish and conservative Mennonite communities east of Harrisburg, so that they can live among their own community and maintain a lifestyle that eschews modern conveniences while receiving outpatient clinical treatment (Raffaele, 2005). However, in this account, Hostetler identifies, describes and interprets a variety of texts: canonic texts (ch. 4), agricultural practices (ch. 6), the family (ch. 7), education practices (ch. 8), ritual (chs 9 and 10), dress (ch. 12), health and healing practices (ch. 15). An account of a different culture might deal with some or almost all of the same channels, but would probably not present an identical series. For instance, the Amish have a musical tradition which needs to be attended to, the Quakers do not. It is useful to attend to architecture when describing Quaker faith and practice, while this is not the case for the Nuer (Evans-Pritchard, 1956) or Dinka (Lienhardt, 1961).

Reading a Culture

When confronted with some aspect of the religious life – a phrase, a rite, a gesture, a joke, a building, an icon – we are often compelled to ask ‘what does it mean?’How do we go about answering that question? There is now a very strong tradition supporting the principle that a culture (a religious group in this case) can be read. Just as one might read a book for meaning, one may take any channel or sign system and treat it as a text, with an internal structure which can be interpreted. Interpretation is the search for meaning and as Fay avers: ‘questions of meaning are at the heart of the social sciences’ (1996, p. 137). Meaning is closely linked to interpretation and thus subject to particular perspectives and points in time; hence the different ‘readings’. Let us consider what this ‘reading’consists of.

The point of this book is primarily to broaden the view of those who study religious faith and practice. There is a strong tendency for writers on religion to focus on the written word and particularly on canonic texts. Liturgists aside, this is particularly true within theology. Taken together, the chapters in this volume seek to present a wider presentation of the term ‘text’ than is generally the case. By ‘text’, we mean any sign system which can be ‘read’ for meaning – the process which Bible scholars continue to call ‘hermeneutics’, although such scholars tend to apply the term narrowly to the understanding of ancient, written texts and the recovery of the meaning intended by the author (Ferguson, 1986, p. 6). Although the term ‘hermeneutics’might not be familiar to everyone, the process which it describes most certainly is, for if hermeneutics is about the search for meaning, then we are all hermeneuticists! And while we include accounts of texts in the more traditional sense, we venture considerably further in analysing texts which have not been written – at least in the conventional sense of the term. In this introductory chapter we set out to explore the diverse range of ‘texts’available to us for reading. We turn primarily to Gadamer, Ricoeur and Geertz in order to show that ‘reading’ religion must mean more than attending to the written word alone. A little later on, we will summarize and offer a brief commentary on each of the chapters that comprise the rest of the book, drawing out the key theoretical and methodological threads.

Interpretation as ‘Reading’

There is a long and honourable tradition of hermeneutics in the study of religion, through Vico, Schleiermacher and Dilthey to Gadamer, Ricoeur and Geertz – all of whom have played a prominent role in promoting and developing that tradition (Bleicher, 1980; Hiley, Bohman and Shusterman, 1991). Before extending our understanding of ‘text’ we will present the diversity of written texts. Hermeneutics represents an interpretive approach to social phenomena in which we are primarily looking at part/whole relationships.

It is hardly surprising that the data of those studying religion should be, first and foremost, written texts which might be called ‘canonic’ in many cases. Such texts are assumed to be, at least by adepts, the Word of God: the Koran being the exemplar, the Bible, the Granth Sahib, the Torah, the Bagavad Gita, the Pali Canon and so forth. Canonic texts such as these have been given considerable attention by scholars – giving further credence to their canonic status. Regardless of whether our focus is on canonic or more ‘vernacular’ texts our goal is to read and understand the written word. We are, at least in the West, taught to read written texts from a relatively young age, whereas our literacy in other sign systems is retarded or underdeveloped. We are the poorer for this – as is our understanding of religious faith and practice.

Religious traditions offer a wide variety of written texts, including examples presented here (Arora, Chambers, Gold, Schaefer, Sweeney, Williams) encompassing canonic and quasi-canonic writing (Sweeney), commentary on such texts, other authoritative writing (Chambers), prose fiction (for example novel, comics, short stories – see Gold in this volume), state/government documents (Arora), also poetry, diaries, journals, letters, correspondence and ephemera of one sort or another. Although some of these categories may seem relatively trivial and flimsy in comparison with the heavyweight texts which have entered the canon, it would be a serious mistake to assume that writing from outside the canon is necessarily unimportant. Obviously there are examples from each of these categories which at some times, and in some places, have been of great significance to the faith and practice of believers. For this reason alone, we would do well not to overlook those written texts which seem, here and now, to figure only marginally within the religious life.

Martin Southwold (1983), in his study of ‘village’ (or vernacular) Buddhism, indicates that a focus on canonic texts in understanding the rural dweller’s faith and practice gives rise to a misleading picture. In this case, a group of believers seem to pay little or no attention to the canonic texts, but treat as important those aspects of religious ritual which they assimilated as infants. Ritual, then, is our first example of a non-written text (Ingleby), while prominent others include music (Schaefer), architecture (Collins), the environment (Arora), the body (Coleman, Knott), movement/dance, gesture, costume, art/design, film/video and oral narratives.

As we have said, hermeneutics was once entirely a matter of biblical interpretation. In recent years hermeneutics has come to be applied to a far wider range of contexts. Ricoeur has argued extensively and persuasively over several decades for a hermeneutic social science and has, it might be claimed, provided a solid theoretical framework in which such a project might be carried out and sustained. It is worth, therefore, outlining his argument before saying how it has been put to use in the study of ritual and religion. In his influential essay, ‘The Model of the Text: Meaningful Action Considered as a Text’ (1991 [1986]), Ricoeur presents the following hypothesis:

If there are specific problems that are raised by the interpretation of texts because they are texts and not spoken language, and if these problems are the ones that constitute hermeneutics as such, then the human sciences may be said to be hermeneutical (1) inasmuch as their object displays some of the features constitutive of a text as a text, and (2) inasmuch as their methodology develops the same kind of procedures as those of Auslegen or text interpretation. (pp. 144–5)

His argument is compelling. He begins by differentiating between language and discourse (or langue and parole in de Saussure’s terms) before identifying four key characteristics of discourse. Firstly, whereas a language system is presented by structuralists as virtual and therefore timeless, discourse is fundamentally temporal – it necessarily exists in time. Secondly, whereas a language system is self-contained, discourse is bound to refer to agents who receive that message. Thirdly, while a language system provides the code which enables agents to communicate, it cannot itself communicate. Finally, the signs which comprise a system of language refer only to other signs within the code, while discourse refers to a world outside of that system. Whether one is trying to make sense of either discourse or action, it is necessary to understand that its meaning can be distinguished from its particular occurrence as a distinct spatio-temporal event: to this extent action is analogous to discourse. Ricoeur elucidates this analogy with reference to the speech act theory of Austin and Searle. Austin identified three types of speech: locutionary, illocutionary and perlocutionary. Ricoeur explains that action has the same structure as a locutionary speech act in that it can be said to have an identifiable propositional content. We can, for instance, identify actions such as swimming and parachute jumping each time we come across people doing them. Illocutionary speech does something in the saying; actions, like speech, comprise a number of rules which enable us to identify them for what they are – that is, we mean something by doing so...