This important question brings to mind some words from literary critic Stanley Fish, decades old now, I think.
He said: "Academic Freedom, rather than being open to all points of view, is open to all points of view only so long as they offer themselves with the reserve and diffidence appropriate to Enlightenment decorums… Academic freedom is not a defense against orthodoxy; it is an orthodoxy and a faith… Academic freedom invites forceful agendas in only on its terms, and refuses to grant legitimacy to the terms with which such agendas define themselves… We are right back to the 1915 AAUP declaration with a slight modification: Religion can be part of university life so long as it renounces its claim to have a privileged purchase on the truth, which of course is the claim that defines a religion as a religion, as opposed to a mere opinion." (Chronicle of Higher Education XLVI, No. 22, B4)
Fish's insight is significant – and reveals the tension that underlies our question: Can religion have a proper confidence without claiming a "monopoly on truth" which makes conversation and common ground impossible?
We've all met religious people who seem to possess an excessive confidence that disposes them to overstate, intimidate, misrepresent, react, insult, threaten, and worse. And we've met others who try to avoid this excessive confidence by holding their faith "with the reserve and diffidence appropriate to Enlightenment decorums," only to have their once-vibrant faith degenerate into a "mere opinion."
We're searching, I believe, for a proper confidence – a humble confidence that would move us toward respectful conversation and thoughtful acknowledgement of common ground, while at the same time realizing that a healthy faith means more than "mere opinion."
"More than mere opinion" surely relates to motivating power: an opinion may make no claim on us, but a vibrant faith moves us to action.
Now whether that action is constructive – say, moving us to care for our neighbor, to preserve God's precious creation, to reconcile with enemies, to face our addictions and self-deceptions, and to practice gratitude and humility rather than arrogance and greed – that depends not just on how we believe, but also on what we believe.
For example, if, following the way of Jesus, we believe there is a Creator who loves the flower of the field and the bird of the air, we will see creation differently. If we believe God is like a caring father or mother who loves the disobedient child no less than the obedient one, we will see "the other" differently. If we believe that religious people can miss the point and work against God, we will carry a certain suspicion of religion itself, including our own. If we believe God graciously forgives us and doesn't hold our sins against us, then we will be unable to justify ungracious attitudes towards others, including our enemies. If we believe that God identifies with the poor, the outcast, the forgotten, and the vulnerable, we will see that whatever we do for the most marginalized person we actually do for God – and vice versa as well.
If we believe that no good act will be forgotten by God, and that no cover-up will ultimately be successful, we will persist in doing good even when it's hard, and we will admit our weakness to ourselves and others, even when our shortcomings are not public. And if we believe that God is so great that our best thought of God is like a child's crayon picture of the sky – with a yellow sun ringed by curvy orange lines, swirly white clouds, and black upside-W birds – then we'll know that however true, beautiful, and good our knowledge of God may be, it is nothing close to a monopoly.
Please e-mail On Faith if you'd like to receive an email notification when On Faith sends out a new question.
Email Me | Del.icio.us | Digg | Facebook


