Incarnation

It’s impossible in today’s world (even if it’s not as noticeable at Gordon College) to avoid interacting with people of other cultures—people who have grown up in a different environment, have a different set of values, and view the world in a vastly different way. Randy Kluver says in his essay, Globalization, Informatization, and Intercultural Communication, “In a globalized world, the political abstractions known as nations are becoming increasingly irrelevant, while the symbolic systems known as nations are continually in flux” (431). It would be ignorant for us, then, not to recognize both the driving values of other cultures and our own ingrained value system.

But simply to recognize these values does about as much for us as recognizing that the color of your roommate’s hair is a different color than your own.  These recognitions and the dialogues that lead to and result from them should serve a greater purpose.

As a graduating communications major, I hope to use my writing to further interfaith dialogue, especially between Muslims and Christians. Whether I end up doing this in the United States or abroad, it’s likely to involve both diverse religious beliefs and diverse cultural and national backgrounds. In this case, successful communication allows Muslims and Christians to really listen to one another, instead of simply preparing to respond.

Religion has gotten a bad name over the years because of its involvement in major world conflicts. However, if religions can work together to do some global good, maybe some of that stigma will give way to a recognition of the need for religion. Ultimately, though, this would involve both (or all) religious cultures arriving at a point where they view the life and beliefs of the other as a valid way of life, whether they agree with it or not. One of the most interesting analogies I’ve heard in service of this idea is the incarnation.

Sherwood G. Lingenfelter, provost and senior vice president at Fuller Theological Seminary, in his book Ministering Cross-Culturally presents Jesus’ incarnation as the ideal of cross-cultural participation. On first glance it’s a common concept that a lot of people would recognize—you adapt to the culture you’re trying to talk with. You become them.  But Lingenfelter emphasizes a more obscure facet of the process. Jesus was also divine. There were some things about his nature that he was not willing to compromise when coming into human form.

This may seem obvious, until you start to apply it. We have to fully know ourselves before any true dialogue can take place. This is more important in religious dialogue than in anything else. After all, any measure of “becoming them” in the context of faith is a scary matter. If we become them in a Muslim community, doesn’t that mean we’re losing some aspect of our own faith?

The solution to this, in Lingenfelter’s mind and my own, is to recognize our own values and where they come from. If we can’t see that some of our values really do stem from our faith, such as love and equality, while others are simply American values like individuality, fully participating in dialogue can be tough. Not only can we end up letting some values essential to the Christian faith slide, but we may find ourselves defending a value that isn’t at all essential to the conversation.

To clarify, my suggestion here isn’t that we put off religious dialogue until we carefully outline our beliefs and values, deciding which ones are expendable and which are essential. Quite to the contrary, I think one of the best ways to discover these essentials is through dialogue itself. We just need to be on the lookout for them.

This type of incarnation—knowing ourselves and putting ourselves in the other’s shoes— I think could do amazing things for our world. When we empathize with people different from us, we can find common values and work together with them, not simply look to tell them about Christianity.

Dawn Gadow