Exactly twenty years ago, I took a sheet of paper and started writing down my responses to this question: āIs it possible to develop patterns of argument that will demonstrate the cognitive, experiential, and spiritual superiority of Christian discipleship over a life-form centred around devotion to Viį¹£į¹u ā or vice versa?ā Though I had thought then that I would be able to answer this question within a few days, I have to report that twenty years down the line I am yet unable to do so in either the affirmative or the negative. However, over the course of these years my thoughts on this question have rambled down the alleys of history, theology, postcolonial theory, sociology of knowledge, and philosophy of religion, and gradually taken the shape of this book. I begin with this glimpse at the audacity of my youthful self partly to provide one token of the type of question that I believe lies at the conceptual heart of Hindu and Christian debates over āconversionā and partly to point to certain topics that I do not directly address in this book.
First, this book is not a fine-grained historical survey of conversion movements in different parts of the Indian subcontinent over the last three hundred years. I seek to bring together several such existing studies with the philosophical literature on the problem of āepistemic peer conflictā: given that knowledgeable, sincere, and truth-seeking individuals across religious boundaries disagree over how to conceptualise the human predicament and the ultimate reality, is it possible to demonstrate that one of these is more consistent, coherent, and adequate than the others on cognitive, experiential, and spiritual grounds? Even a brief survey of polemical Hindu responses to Christian conversion shows that a key question that repeatedly turns up is: āwho got it right, then?ā I show at several places in this book that several Christian and Hindu responses to this problem of epistemic peer conflict both share the following dialectical structure. They propose āthe Religionā as the ultimate truth which encompasses, to different degrees, the truths of āthe religionsā, though they sharply disagree, of course, over what āthe Religionā is ā whether a form of life rooted in Christ for mainstream Christian theology, the transpersonal ultimate for Advaita VedÄnta, devotion to Viį¹£į¹u for Vaiį¹£į¹avism, and so on. This structure provides several strands of Christian and Hindu philosophical theology with the conceptual lens through which religious diversity is assessed, classified, and, to different degrees, accommodated. However, whether rational argumentation can settle the most momentous question of what is, in fact, āthe Religionā, remains an intensely contested matter within Christian theological circles. Some influential strands of contemporary Christian thinking argue that the āknowing subjectā cannot settle this question through a āspectatorialā stance because it needs to undergo a volitional transformation through Christās ācognitive graceā before it is able to properly assess the evidence (Thiemann 1985; Wainwright 1995; Moser 2010). More concretely, it is claimed that fallen human reason cannot arrive at God through a ādispassionateā investigation of public evidence that is accessible from third person perspectives ā it needs to be regenerated by grace so that it can develop the sensitivities to see aspects of the natural world as pointers to the Christian God (Evans 1998). The āhermeneutical loopā within which Christian knowing is dialectically interrelated with Christian faith was already noted by Sydney Cave in 1939 when he argued that these epistemological debates in HinduāChristian contexts āwill not be solved by the academic discussion of two alternative world-views. Interesting and illuminating as such discussion can be, it can never be decisive, for the values by which men [sic] judge are dependent on their ideals, and these ideals are created in part by the doctrines they already holdā (Cave 1939: 236). For a more recent articulation of this view, we may turn to M. A. Rae who argues that the Christian news that in Jesus God has dwelt amongst humanity ācan only be confessed and proclaimed. It cannot be the subject of rational verification; nor can it be confirmed within the categories of secular historiographyā (Rae 2011: 92). If āneutralā reason is indeed unable to adjudicate these matters (we will encounter some dissenting views in Chapter 6), this cognitive failure can be seen as an instance of the ārather depressing general truthā noted by Peter van Inwagen (2006: 2) that āno philosophical [and theological] argument that has ever been devised for any substantive thesis is capable of lending the same sort of support to its conclusion that scientific arguments often lend to theirsā. Fierce debates continue to rage in religious epistemology between, on the one hand, philosophers who seek to develop arguments that would present Christian theism as true over and against other religious systems (Swinburne 1993; Yandell 1993; Taliaferro 2011), and, on the other hand, philosophers who claim that there are no good truth-indicating grounds for establishing the cognitive superiority of one such system over others (Schellenberg 2007; Gellman 2008).
The significance of these somewhat abstract issues for Hindu and Christian debates over āconversionā can be seen by considering the structure of Swami Vivekanandaās (1863ā1902) argument: āPlainly, if all religions are true, there would be no point in exchanging one true religion for another. Conversion, then, must be vigorously resisted . . . ā (Quoted in Sharma 2011: 47).
The argument runs as follows:
- Premise 1: If truth-values are equally distributed across the religious matrices of the world, āconversionsā across religious boundaries are sociologically and metaphysically futile.
- Premise 2: Truth-values are equally distributed across the religious matrices of the world.
- Conclusion: āConversionsā across religious boundaries are sociologically and metaphysically futile.
However, no major Hindu religious tradition ā whether Advaita VedÄnta, Vaiį¹£į¹avism, or Åaivism (with its diverse Tantric configurations) ā has accepted the āepistemic parityā thesis of Premise 2 (for one example, see Sarma 2005: 15ā18). Therefore, the vital questions are whether all religions are true, whether āobjectiveā reason is capable of assessing the cognitive integrity of religious systems, and whether it is possible to adjudicate truth-claims across religious traditions. Through a careful examination of the pronouncements of Hindu apologists such as Swami Vivekananda, we will show that what they, in fact, mean to say is that āthe religionsā of the world have truth-filled elements to the extent that are they are fragmentary approximations to āthe Religionā of Advaita VedÄnta. This is the view that is reflected in Sarvepalli Radhakrishnanās (1888ā1975) more cautious remark that while āHinduism . . . affirms that all relevations refer to reality, they are not equally true to itā (Radhakrishnan 1927: 49). For Radhakrishnan, one of these ārevelationsā, namely, Advaita VedÄnta, is āthe Religionā which hierarchially encompasses the limited, provisional, and partial truths of āthe religionsā of the world.
Second, I seek to highlight the point, in a number of chapters in this book, that Hindu and Christian debates over āconversionā sometimes lack conceptual precision. Terms such as āexclusivismā, ādogmatismā and āconversionā itself (often regarded as dirty words), on the one hand, and ātolerationā, āinclusivismā and āpluralismā (often regarded as nice words), on the other, are sometimes bandied about in these debates without an explication of their inner logic. For instance, the term ātolerationā, as I use it in this book, does not mean merely the practices of ābeing niceā to the neighbours but also of acknowledging the rights of others to hold views which are believed to be wrong, incorrect, or inadequate. That ātoleratingā others does not imply a diffuse sense of ārespectā for other life-worlds can be seen by considering whether one would wish to ātolerateā a group that practises genocidal violence. In other words, ātolerationā requires clearly articulated conceptual bases (or, at the least, an accepted modus vivendi with its own conceptual presuppositions) which specify what, if any, are the moral limits of ātolerationā. Therefore, the crucial question involving ātolerationā in Hindu and Christian debates is not whether but why, which, and whose ātolerationā. Some Christian and Hindu responses to this question employ the above dialectical structure: because all human beings are encompassed by the fundamental reality intimated by āthe Religionā, even if they themselves are not aware of this reality, therefore their ways of life are to be tolerated, in the sense that I have specified. For an initial sample of how this dialectic is worked out in some Christian and Hindu universes (the detailed argument is in Chapters 5, 6 and 7), consider the following examples from an Anglican Christian, a Vaiį¹£į¹avite Hindu and an Advaita VedÄnta Hindu perspective respectively. Rowland Williams argued in 1856 that the truths of Hindu universes had to be transcended by Christianity which would meet more completely their religious needs:
For it [Christianity] mediates and harmonizes between them [the non-Christian religions], adding to the strong belief of the Hebrew, something of the largeness of thought of the Hindu and of the heroic humanity of the Greek, while it sobers these with the household virtues of the Roman, and with the deeper sense of truth and right. . . .
(Hedges 2001: 84)
On the Hindu side, Swami Prabhupada (1896ā1977), the founder of the International Society for Krishna Consciousness (ISKCON), argues that ā[a] directly Kį¹į¹£į¹a conscious person is the topmost transcendentalist because such a devotee knows what is meant by Brahman or ParamÄtmÄ. His knowledge of the Absolute Truth is perfect, whereas the [Advaitin] impersonalist and the meditative yogÄ« are imperfectly Kį¹į¹£į¹a consciousā (1972: 318). Prabhupada was drawing on the medieval theologian JÄ«va GosvÄmÄ« who noted, in his commentary on the Brahma-sÅ«tras, that the supreme object of meditation is Viį¹£į¹u alone and not others gods such as Åiva (ÅivÄdayaÅ ca vyÄvį¹ttÄįø„) (Gupta 2007: 139). In contrast, Swami Sivananda argues that ā[n]on-dualism is the highest realisation . . . The [theistic] Dvaitin and the Visistadvaitin eventually reach the Advaitic goal or Vedantic realisation of Onenessā (Quoted in Miller 1986: 178). Or one can, in place of the āladderā metaphor, choose the planar one of the ācircleā, and argue, as does Swami Nikhilananda, that just as numerous radii converge upon the centre of a circle, so too the religious streams of the world converge into the Advaitic non-dual Brahman (Swami Nikhilananda 1963: 126ā30). In other words, the imperfect truths of āthe religionsā are somehow elevated to the fullness, the ultimacy, and the perfection of āthe Religionā ā whether the latter is Christian discipleship for Williams, Kį¹į¹£į¹a consciousness for Swami Prabhupada, or Advaitic insight for Swami Sivananda and Swami Nikhilananda.
More schematically, the argument can be laid out as follows:
- Premise 1: All humanity is rooted in the Fundamental Reality = X.
- Premise 2: Not all the religious traditions of the world are centred around a conscious recognition of or an orientation towards X.
- Premise 3: To be directed towards X one must minimally cultivate a conscious recognition of or an orientation towards X.
- Conclusion 1: Therefore, not all the religious traditions of the world are directing their adherents towards X.
- Conclusion 2: Regarding the religious traditions noted in Conclusion 1, it may be possible to place them on a scale such that their location on it would indicate whether they are more X-directed or less X-directed.
This argument is the conceptual core of Hindu and Christian debates over āconversionā. Both Christian thought and the major Hindu soteriological systems such as Advaita VedÄnta, Vaį¹£į¹avism, and Åaivism accept Premises 1, 2 and 3. They differ, of course, over what they take X to be: a covenantal fellowship between God and humanity that is centred in Jesus Christ, the transpersonal ultimate (nirguį¹a Brahman), Viį¹£į¹u, and Åiva respectively. On the Christian side of these debates, theologians have employed different formulations of this argument to ācomprehendā religious diversity through the conceptual lens of what might be called Karlās Kaleidoscope: those who use this kaleidoscope with the slant of Karl Barth (1886ā1968) accept Conclusion 1 but usually reject Conclusion 2, while those who look through it from the perspective of Karl Rahner (1904ā84) accept both Conclusions 1 and 2. On the Hindu side, while the classical VedÄntic traditions emphasise Conclusion 1, some medieval and most modern forms of Hinduism have affirmed Conclusion 1 as well as Conclusion 2.
The reason for spelling out this argument in such detail is as follows. The Chri...