Religion: Immediate Experience and the Mediacy of Research: Interdisciplinary Studies in the Objectives, Concepts and Methodology of Empirical Research in Religion 9783666604348, 9783525604342

Citation preview

Research in Contemporary Religion Edited by Hans-Günter Heimbrock, Daria Pezzoli-Olgiati, Bryan P. Stone, Heinz Streib, Claire Wolfteich, Trygve Wyller In Co-operation with Sunhee Ahn (Seoul, Korea), Bärbel Beinhauer-Köhler (Frankfurt/Main, Germany), Wanda Deifelt (São Paolo, Brazil), Jaco S. Dreyer (Pretoria, S. Africa), Mehmet Emin Köktas (Izmir, Turkey), Bonnie J. Miller-McLemore (Nashville, USA), Siebren Miedema (Amsterdam, The Netherlands), Bradd Shore (Atlanta, USA), David M. Wulff (Norton, USA), Margaret Yee (Oxford, UK), Dale P. Andrews (Boston, USA), Hanan Alexander (Haifa, Israel), William Storrar (Princeton, USA), Carla Danani (Macerata, Italy)

Volume 1

Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht

Hans-Günter Heimbrock/ Christopher P. Scholtz (ed.)

Religion: Immediate Experience and the Mediacy of Research Interdisciplinary Studies, Concepts and Methodology of Empirical Research in Religion

Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht

We are especially thankful for generous financial support of the whole research project by the Erich and Maria Russell Foundation, Frankfurt/Main, Germany.

Mit 5 Abbildungen

Bibliografische Information der Deutschen Nationalbibliothek Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek verzeichnet diese Publikation in der Deutschen Nationalbibliografie; detaillierte bibliografische Daten sind im Internet über http://dnb.d-nb.de abrufbar. ISBN 978-3-525-60434-2

© 2007, Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht GmbH & Co. KG, Göttingen / www.v-r.de Alle Rechte vorbehalten. Das Werk und seine Teile sind urheberrechtlich geschützt. Jede Verwertung in anderen als den gesetzlich zugelassenen Fällen bedarf der vorherigen schriftlichen Einwilligung des Verlages. Hinweis zu § 52a UrhG: Weder das Werk noch seine Teile dürfen ohne vorherige schriftliche Einwilligung des Verlages öffentlich zugänglich gemacht werden. Dies gilt auch bei einer entsprechenden Nutzung für Lehr- und Unterrichtszwecke. Printed in Germany. Druck- und Bindung: b Hubert & Co, Göttingen. Gedruckt auf alterungsbeständigem Papier.

Contents Introduction Religious Experience, Empirical Research and the Quest of Immediacy ................................................................................... HANS-GÜNTER HEIMBROCK/CHRISTOPHER P. SCHOLTZ

7

1 Religion, Culture and Cultural Theory The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research in Practical Theology ....................................................................... BRYAN P. STONE

19

Embodied Knowing Understanding Religious Experience in Ritual ................................ ANDREA BIELER

39

Everyday Culture Research and the Challenges of Immediacy Approaches from Cultural Anthropology/Volkskunde .................... TIMO HEIMERDINGER

61

2 Reconstructing the Rationale of the Empirical in Theology Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research A Cognitive Approach ..................................................................... JOHANNES A. VAN DER VEN

77

Otherness in an Embodied Church The Impact of Phenomenology in the Study of Christian Social Service ............................................................... 115 TRYGVE WYLLER Reconstructing Lived Religion ........................................................ 133 HANS-GÜNTER HEIMBROCK

3 Discussing the Notion of Experience Experience as Interpretation A Peircean Approach to Practical Theology .................................... 159 GESCHE LINDE The Semantic Contents of Religious Beliefs and their Secular Translation Jürgen Habermas’ Concept of Religious Experience ...................... 175 THOMAS M. SCHMIDT

6

Contents

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion ................ 189 JACO S. DREYER

4 Discussing Research Methods Qualitative, Quantitative and Phenomenological Approaches to Experience – Complementary and Contrary Empirical-Theological Soundings from a Research Project on Family Rituals ............................................................................. 213 CHRISTOPH MORGENTHALER Researching That What Goes without Saying Methodological Reflections in the Context of Religious Experience ................................................................... 243 CHRISTOPHER P. SCHOLTZ Empirical Research on Religion Perspectives from the Psychology of Religion ................................ 259 DAVID M. WULFF

Index of Names .............................................................................. 275 List of Contributors ........................................................................ 277 Zusammenfassung/Summary in German ....................................... 279

Introduction Religious Experience, Empirical Research and the Quest of Immediacy HANS-GÜNTER HEIMBROCK/CHRISTOPHER P. SCHOLTZ Goethe-University, Frankfurt/Main, Germany

The contributions of this volume give a fresh look at a well known issue: the immediacy of religious experience. They do it by means of theoretical investigation. This approach might be taken as an opposition: on the one side direct experience, on the other side analytic distance. Our introduction tries to open the quest for the relation between experience and analytic investigation, we will draw some lines through the history of arguments, and finally we will give a short overview of the various contributions.

The Issue: Immediacy of Religious Experience and its Critique Immediacy of religious experience was and somehow still is self-evident. For a long time referring to experience was estimated almost identical with being in touch with the core of religion. To appeal in religious matters to one’s own experience was and is identified as referring to an unquestioned everyday plausibility of one’s own faith. At least throughout the last two centuries this reference time and again has been used as the basis and the final means to preserve the internal certainty of religious belief against questioning from outside and as defense against estrangement of faith by secular reason. It was used as both, as strong protection against external theological authorities and as a means to withdraw from the need to defend faith against reason. The appeal to an immediacy of religious certainty in one’s own experience thus seemed the ultimate stronghold against any modern secular philosophical and psychological critique on religion. In the history of western religion this appeal to immediacy has not only been vivid as a naïve stance of uneducated religious people. Taking the heart and fire of religion as unmediated contact to the deity is to be found also within prominent theological and philosophical reflection. To elaborate this idea people drew especially on the similarity between religion and

8

Hans-Günter Heimbrock/Christopher P. Scholtz

aesthetics. There is a well known general line from F.D.E. Schleiermacher to H.-G. Gadamer about the resemblance of religious to aesthetic experience, converging exactly in the issue of immediacy. From his early romantic start in his speeches “to the cultured despisers” (Schleiermacher: 1996/1799) up to his main dogmatic volume on The Christian Faith Schleiermacher proposed the core of religion which precedes the subjectobject dichotomy, coming down to the religious feeling of immediate consciousness. The source of religion within the sentiment of pure immediacy is the original “feeling” and is the beginning and essence of all religions. The “apprehension of the universe” is prior to its being informed by any historical tradition. This pretension of immediacy of religious experience has been highly influential during the 20th century. Various areas might be identified, among them philosophical hermeneutics, and phenomenology of religion. As to philosophy, Gadamer was strongly influenced by romantic hermeneutic reflection as well as by M. Heidegger, and in his most profound hermeneutic reflection on the nature of experience he followed the same thesis drawing on the immediate evidence of aesthetic perception as the model for the nature of human experience in general. Turning back to the prior involvement of the perceiving subject being, Gadamer developed a philosophical approach to truth first drawing on art. This approach directly or indirectly had many followers in philosophy, theology, literature and aesthetic theory. R. Warshow in his brilliant essay on The Immediate Experience identified the “irreducible experience” at the bottom of popular media and showed its twofold function in service of both: a necessary medium as well as a corrective for critique (Warshow: 1962). Up to M.C. Taylor’s theory of “Disfiguring” concerning architecture, painting and religion, the pretension of immediacy was crucial for both, religion and aesthetics (Taylor: 1992). In terms of methodology it might be a big step from this discussion to phenomenology of religion. However, also in this domain, the thesis of immediacy played a dominant role. Now shifting the perspective to the traditions of R. Otto, F. Heiler and M. Eliade, essential phenomena and classical forms of religions like the numinous, ecstasy, enthusiasm and mysticism were hold to represent immediate religious experience, an experience which “comes to the believer without any intervening agency or mediator” (Habel et al.: 1993). However, it is well known that the immediacy did not remain without objection. Within likewise philosophical and sociological traditions there is a strong tradition opposing the thesis of immediacy. The philosophical line of critique dates back at least to Hegel’s denial of any accessible immediacy as well as to Marx’ ideology-critique of immediacy as deception over the

Introduction

9

true political basis of bourgeois’ consciousness. The influential Marxist literary critic G. Lukács aimed at resolving the contradictions of the sociohistoric process of estrangement by means of critique. He took as counterpart and opposite the habits of thinking and feeling as mere immediacy of everyday life which had to be destroyed by critical reconstruction to free the subject from totalitarian forces by transcending the given situation through trans-empirical transgression of immediateness (Lukács: 1971). As to the evolving social sciences, also modern empirical research on religion and on religious experience from its first developments is strongly opposed to immediacy as a goal of research. At the beginning of the 20th century empirical analysis of religion within the new discipline psychology was based on rather positivist methodical grounds and colored by a critical bias against the internal perspective of the religious believer. Early empirical investigation into religion, often accompanied by an atheist bias, tried to dissolve the truth claim of a subjects’ immediate religious consciousness into non-religious, inter-subjective social conditions and causal relations. One big exception to this movement was to be found in the ideas of the US pragmatist philosopher and early psychologist of religion W. James. He was not only the founder of “radical empiricism” and an original scholar providing new insights to religious experience: In his volume he especially defended mystic religious experience as direct experience against any reductionist attempt (James: 1912). Moreover in his later philosophical writings he deepened this analysis on a particular methodology of experience. In his essays on “pure experience” his fundamental idea is that mind and matter are both aspects of, or structures formed from experience as something irreducible. Thus, experience is “the immediate flux of life which furnishes the material to our later reflection with its conceptual categories […] a that which is not yet any definite what, tho’ ready to be all sorts of whats” (James: 1902, 46). However, the positivist branch of religious research turned out to be leading; with its theoretical models it provided powerful guidelines for further generations to establish standards of “truly academic” analysis of religious experience, even if the early methodological confrontation was reduced during the 20th century. The early ideal of empirical research to investigate just “facts” was eventually transformed through further methodological reflections. General theory of science clarified the normative basis of any analysis of separate empirical data about religion. Already these poor notes indicate the fact that powerful analytic arguments have been developed to destroy naïve and/or romantic concepts of immediacy. Seen from the 21st century not only empirical theory but likewise “trans-empirical” philosophical and political theories came down to question a foregoing immediacy of experience. These heavy discussions

10

Hans-Günter Heimbrock/Christopher P. Scholtz

again reflect indirectly the continuous attention interdisciplinary discourses paid to the issue at stake. Further progress in theory helped to bridge former methodological confrontation between social sciences, philosophical hermeneutics and theological reflection on religion. Philosophical reconstruction of experience as well as empirically based psychological theory delivered many serious arguments against direct possibilities to reconstruct the immediateness of religious experience. Referring critically back to Schleiermacher, to James as well as to Eliade there is an ongoing debate whether experience is an independent pre-linguistic basis of lived religion or rather the outcome of investigation into religion, dependent on cultural concepts and judgments. The works of prominent scholars like W. Proudfoot and G. Lindbeck display the importance of this issue across the disciplines (Proudfoot: 1985; Lindbeck: 1984). Likewise scholars deeply devoted to critical reason have offered new theoretical arguments not to explain away the core of prereflexive religious experience by means of rational reconstruction (Habermas: 2006). Summing up this brief glimpse on the two lines in favor and against immediacy one might say at least: Communicating about these different approaches of empirical research on religion is difficult. However, this difficult task has been undertaken as a frontier labor of established disciplines. As such, it has ab ovo become an interdisciplinary movement involving at least theology, philosophy, and social sciences. A first point of difficulty already starts with the question how to identify the central object of research properly. For some disciplines, due to their strict experiential traditions and a strong and narrow concept of experience, it has to be “religious experience”, others prefer more open concepts like “religion” or “religious life”. Representing this conceptual plurality adequately we are forced to irritate our readers and use in this introductory passages the constant shift between both. The situation gets even more complicated if one acknowledges further differences within the league of sciences doing analysis in religion. While sharing the general aim to keep scientific research on religion realityoriented there has been great difference about how to deal theoretically with the very notion of immediacy. What remained unsolved until today, is the question, how empirical scientific reconstruction can maintain the quality of immediacy – by participation in the religious practice or by following the opposite path, to stand back from the immediate experience. What is the agenda and the locus of present day theology in this debate? It was probably not accidental that the theoretical advocate of religious immediacy, Schleiermacher, was one of the first scholars, who paid special attention on disciplined investigation of religious experience as religious

Introduction

11

practice. He described (and pre-scribed until today) the particular task and theoretical challenge of a particular branch within theology: the discipline of Practical Theology. This area from its very beginning has been intimately linked to the problems of religious research. Due to developments within academic theology as well as in cultural theory in recent decades this discipline has developed to a coordinating point between all the academic partners mentioned so far. On the one hand, following its task of research on contemporary religious phenomena, it is connected to empirical oriented disciplines like Social Sciences, Religious Studies, and Cultural Anthropology. On the other hand, Practical Theology is in dialogue with Systematic Theology and Philosophy to clarify basic concepts of any empirical science like experience, reality and empirical research. Given the dynamic interrelation of those two sides Practical Theology has developed a broad interdisciplinary discourse about empirical research on religion, following a large variety of different options about “experience” and “empirical research”. One innovative theoretical result among others was a new research area labeled “Empirical Theology”, which seems to have become a matter of scientific enterprise. Whatever this label may contain, after a hundred years of effort, there is no doubt about the necessity of empirical research also in theology. On both sides of the Atlantic, church bodies of all denominations have affiliated with empirical research institutions, thereby transforming the collaboration between church and society.

The Setup and the Contributions The impulse to this project dates back to a symposium titled Phenomenon and Experience. Interdisciplinary Symposium on Empirical Research in Religion. It was a conference held at Goethe-University, Frankfurt/Main, Germany in October 2005 within the frame of the doctoral program “Religion in Dialogue”. In this conference scholars and junior researchers of various European countries, the US and South Africa gathered to evaluate the basis and consequences of different approaches. Included were colleagues from Theology, Philosophy, Psychology of Religion, Religious Studies and Cultural Studies. Given the rich spectrum of issues and problems outlined above, it seemed to be most appropriate to enter the field of empirical research in religion or empirical theology from an international and interdisciplinary perspective. The general intention of this interdisciplinary symposium was to contribute to academic research in religion and religious experience in a twofold way. There were presentations directed to particular empirically oriented

12

Hans-Günter Heimbrock/Christopher P. Scholtz

objectives. And next to this there were contributions addressing methodological and philosophical issues. The variety of lectures, papers and discussions showed different paradigms of empirical approaches to religion and particularly to religious experience. All together the conference tried to stimulate further and deeper understanding of the specific character of empirical research on religion between theology and the humanities. Motivated by the 2005 symposium the editors invited the contributors to address their arguments on the general issue of immediacy versus scientific distanciation. The different chapters pick up the discussion from the Frankfurt symposium, however they present a further elaboration and are in many cases entirely new pieces. From various disciplines they reconstruct basic methodical options of scientific empirical approaches to experience, including qualitative and quantitative research. Doing so, the texts demonstrate what a large variety of methodologies is running under the head of “empirical”. Any closer look at the ongoing research will contradict simple minded talk about one single experiential path in related empirical disciplines. And inasmuch as any empirical scientific approach is referring to a basic concept of reality, the concurrence of empirical models is running towards the problem, how to conceive reality anyhow as a coherent entity. Starting with the dialectics of the double thesis of “immediacy of experience” and “mediacy of research”, the different chapters develop critical arguments about presuppositions and consequences of the thesis. We present the interdisciplinary discourse about issues, concepts and scientific paradigms about empirical approach to religious experience in four chapters:

Section 1: Religion, Culture and Cultural Theory Section 1 picks up cultural phenomena and concepts of advanced cultural theory to clarify both general theoretical and specific theological perspectives. From the very start it is evident that the forms of life in a media dominated culture are not neutral to the problem of immediacy. The Methodist Practical Theologian BRYAN P. STONE (Boston University, USA) with his chapter The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research in Practical Theology opens the line of contributions by drawing attention especially to images of mass media and their powerful effects on the experience of people’s “way of life”. To deepen in empirical analysis of the particular case of violence in movies is most instructive to demonstrate social forces which shape collective patterns of everyday life but also to analyze the interdependence between religion and culture. Based on his

Introduction

13

case study the author finally characterizes a general task for Practical Theology to combine empirical analysis with the normative interpretive evaluation of cultural phenomena as traces of God’s presence. The Protestant Theologian and specialist of Christian worship ANDREA BIELER (Pacific School of Religion, Berkeley, USA) aims in her piece, Embodied Knowing. Understanding Religious Experience in Ritual, at reconstructing religious experience from the perspective of liturgical theology and ritual studies. Following this path she deliberately refuses to start with a theoretical concept of experience, rather takes her point of departure at ritual practice in liturgy. Recent discussions in liturgics, especially Catherine Bell’s ritual theory, help to overcome the dichotomy of thought and practice in ritual experience as “embodied knowing”. Finally Bieler bridges her insight into the dynamics of ritual experience releasing “energy patterns” and “cognitive metaphors” with current discussions of cognitive science. The Cultural Anthropologist TIMO HEIMERDINGER (University of Mainz, Germany) in his chapter Everyday Culture Research and the Challenges of Immediacy. Theoretical and Methodological Approaches from the Perspective of Cultural Anthropology/Volkskunde picks up one of the central research interests of cultural anthropology: How to study empirically everyday culture and how to deal with the general problem of representation concerning this objective. His methodological reflections clarify basic ambiguities and ambivalences of culture as dynamic process. To study culture, Heimerdinger further introduces the theoretical model of “theatricality” with its four basic elements (staging; corporality; perception; performance). This model is demonstrated as an inspiring key for understanding the structure of immediacy in general and for religious experience in particular.

Section 2: Reconstructing the Rationale of the Empirical in Theology Section 2 moves on to three contributions which discuss basis and ends of the empirical task of theology and theory of religion in general from different methodological perspectives. The Catholic Theologian JOHANNES A. VAN DER VEN (University of Nijmegen, The Netherlands), in his chapter Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research: A Cognitive Approach places problems of empirical analysis of religious experience, practice and doctrines within a broader scientific frame. Picking up the cognitive paradigm as it is used in many contemporary disciplines in the academy and relating the tasks of theory explicitly to

14

Hans-Günter Heimbrock/Christopher P. Scholtz

the plurality of different religions, he develops principles, goals and objects of religious research in general. The central claim is that theology, as scientific enterprise joining this challenge, has to follow general principles and methodological boundaries of any scientific research of religion. Thus follows that practicing this type of research asks for constant comparativism in terms of using categories to reflect on individual findings. Further on, the act of doing theology as scientific activity must not be confused with the immediate participation and engagement of oneself in religious performance. Relating this model to the contexts of the academy, of society and of religions, the author finally investigates heavy normative implications of the portrayed science of religion. The Protestant Theologian and specialist in Ethics and Diaconics TRYGVE WYLLER (University of Oslo, Norway) deals in his piece Otherness in an Embodied Church. The Impact of Phenomenology in the Study of Christian Social Service with the methodological implications of the question, how we can discover the other as “other” instead of reducing him to “same”. Based on the conviction that it is most important for Christian social practice to discuss the question of humankind, he presents some central phenomenological insights: A. Schütz’ thesis that the intersubjective dimension is vital for the understanding of social action and M. MerleauPonty’s concept of the embodied self and the pregivenness of the world. These theoretical approaches are interwoven with three examples of Christian motivated work for homeless people. The contribution concludes with some reflections on the specific meaning and importance of sameness and otherness in Christian social practice. The Protestant Practical Theologian HANS-GÜNTER HEIMBROCK (University of Frankfurt/Main, Germany) starts his contribution Reconstructing Lived Religion with a presentation of the historical roots of Empirical Theology in the beginning of the 20th century and continues with a clarification of the different understandings of the “empirical”. The concept of lived experience is introduced, stressing its phenomenological background and its relatedness to the concept of life world, and connecting it to different understandings of experience within various theological traditions. Using the gained insights the task of Practical Theology is described as reconstructing lived religion, which has far reaching consequences both for the understanding of the research object and for the methodology. This does not lead to an alternative, but to a complementary approach to empirical research on religious phenomena, and opens up new perspectives on the relation of theology and reality.

Introduction

15

Section 3: Discussing the Notion of Experience Section 3 reflects on epistemological and cultural pre-conditions which are at stake, when researchers try to make valid and comprehensive scientific statements about religious experience. The scholar of Protestant Dogmatics and Philosophy of Religion GESCHE LINDE (University of Frankfurt/Main, Germany) addresses in her paragraphs Experience as Interpretation: A Peircean Approach to Practical Theology the central problem of immediacy of experience by means of giving a thorough semiotic reconstruction of experience. Approaching the problem from philosophy of mind, she uses especially C.S. Peirce trichotomic model of experience. Doing so, the structure of experience is analyzed as mental phenomenon which contains always an interpretive process. This does not only prepare the conclusion that immediacy must be taken as abstraction developed by theory but likewise that “experience” and “theory” are not strictly opposed to each other but different modes on a gradual scale. Based on this reflection on experience, Linde gives a fresh definition of the interpretive task of theology in general as well as of the task of practical theology. The particular function of the latter in this view is to balance general normative interpretation of faith with the experience-interpretive activities of individual religious believers. The Philosopher of Religion THOMAS M. SCHMIDT (University of Frankfurt/Main, Germany) gives in his contribution The Semantic Contents of Religious Beliefs and their Secular Translation. Jürgen Habermas’ Concept of Religious Experience a description of the changes in Habermas’ theory, that resulted in a persisting role of religion, arguing that the postmetaphysical thought of philosophy cannot replace the semantic potential of religion. In the post-secular society, religious believers and secular citizens have to live in coexistence which requires that both groups strive for a mutual agreement on law and justice. For this process, secular reason must acknowledge that it is fallible and that religious convictions might be true, and it is necessary that religious believers try to translate their convictions into secular political reasons. Schmidt concludes with a clarification of the relation between reason and belief, stressing the necessity to distinguish between a phenomenological and epistemological sense of immediacy, and with a description of the necessary, but delicate mutual learning processes in the post-secular society. The Protestant Practical Theologian JACO S. DREYER (University of South Africa, Pretoria, South Africa) in his chapter Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion, following the line of Gadamer and Ricoeur, once more picks up the general hermeneutic problem how to do

16

Hans-Günter Heimbrock/Christopher P. Scholtz

empirical research on the experience of “the other”. Choosing deliberately for his own situation of intercultural encounter between western scholars and African people on a post-colonial niveau of hermeneutics it becomes evident that the problem of handling properly the outsider-insider balance is not neutral – interpretation does always contain a relation of power. Taking the International Human Rights and Religion project as an example Dreyer shows the necessary involvement of both, distanciation and participation of the researcher. This is demonstrated carefully all through the classical steps of the research process. Dreyer’s plea is that scientifically gained knowledge is always indirect and mediated, but nevertheless based on a contextual pre-reflexive life world relation to the object of research.

Section 4: Discussing Research Methods Section 4 presents research problems on religious experience from theological and psychological perspectives. The contributions show how deeply methodical choices and conceptualizations of the very object of research are intertwined. The Protestant Practical Theologian CHRISTOPH MORGENTHALER (University of Bern, Switzerland) offers in his contribution Qualitative, Quantitative und Phenomenological Approaches to Experience – Complementary and Contrary. Empirical-Theological Soundings from a Research Project on Family Rituals an perspective to overcome the often claimed antagonism between qualitative and quantitative research. He presents the mixed methods research model, referring to a large research project on family rituals. With a focus on bedtime rituals he demonstrates how qualitative and quantitative methods can and should be used in one and the same project. The combination of the two methodological approaches creates something which is more than the sum of the elements. Therefore he sees the mixed methods as a third way that leads beyond the old frontiers of the methodological discussion and that shares some crucial interests and understandings with phenomenology. This connection of quantitative, qualitative, and phenomenological methodologies is no denial of the differences, but a plea for using the complementary potential of the three approaches. The Protestant Practical Theologian CHRISTOPHER P. SCHOLTZ (University of Frankfurt/Main, Germany) in his chapter Researching That What Goes without Saying. Methodological Reflections in the Context of Religious Experience joins the discussion about the issue of how to do valuable research on immediacy focusing on possibilities and boundaries of specific

Introduction

17

research methods. If one identifies the basic methodical challenges of doing research about religion qualified as phenomenon of everyday life, as uncommented preverbal layer of experience which is “taken for granted”, what might be an appropriate research design? The crucial point in his evaluation of qualitative empirical methods is how not to destroy the unquestioned immediacy in everyday experience. The paper develops strong arguments to use introspective methods, further on to include the researcher as both, participating human being and analyzing researcher. The Psychologist of Religion DAVID M. WULFF (Wheaton College, Norton, USA) presents in his chapter Empirical Research on Religion: Perspectives from the Psychology of Religion the discipline psychology of religion with its diversity of approaches. He identifies two main traditions of empirical research, the statistic-empirical and the interpretive, referring to their historical background and their main research goals. The methodological differences can be related to the researchers’ background and their specific interests, for example providing guidance to religious educators. Many discussions concern the conception of religion and religious development, an important, but partly insolvable task, always influenced by the scholars’ personal religious agenda. Concluding with a foresight Wulff expresses his concerns that recent developments in the research organization may threat the disinterested approach of the discipline.

Final Remarks So far a rough glimpse at the contributions of this volume. It is simply a matter of fairness (or to avoid disappointments) to concede already at the end of this introductory passage to the readers of this volume, that the arguments and positions presented below will not “(re-)solve” the dialectic of immediate experience and mediating scientific analysis. Particularly in times of growing religious and political fundamentalism, these texts provide good arguments and evidence to refuse too simple “solutions” of the dialectic, and moreover arguments to maintain the fruitful tension between lived participation and inspired analysis. We hope that this volume will be taken as stimulus and invitation to further discourse and dialogue, about the means and ends of religion, experience, and scientific research. The editors are most thankful to all contributors, who partly reworked their former contributions substantially, partly developed completely new texts. We likewise are thankful to all participants of the 2005 symposium. Finally we would like to express special thanks to the current director of the International PhD Program “Religion in Dialogue” at Goethe-University,

18

Hans-Günter Heimbrock/Christopher P. Scholtz

Prof. Dr. Claus Arnold. From the very first day on he whole-heartedly supported this project with spiritual and material means. We are grateful to the publishing house Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, Göttingen, for encouraging our project and printing this volume. We are deeply thankful to Peter Meyer, Frankfurt, who took care with invaluable assistance of getting all the texts ready for publication.

References GADAMER, H.-G. (1975/1960), Truth and Method, New York. HABEL, N./O’DONOGHUE, M./MADDOX, M. (1993), Religious Experience, in id. (ed.): Myth, Ritual and the Sacred. Introducing the Phenomena of Religion, Underdale. HABERMAS, H. (2006), Religion in the Public Sphere. Cognitive Preconditions to the Public Use of Rational Thinking by Religious and Secular People, European Journal of Philosophy 14, 1–15. JAMES, W. (1902), The Variety of Religious Experience, New York. JAMES, W. (1912), Essays in Radical Empiricism, New York. LANDGREBE, L. (1959), Von der Unmittelbarkeit der Erfahrung, in: id. (ed.), Edmund Husserl 1859–1959, Den Haag, 238–259. LINDBECK, G. (1984), The Nature of Doctrine, Religion and Theology in a Postliberal Age, Philadelphia. LUKÁCS, G. (1971/1923), History and Class Consciousness, Cambridge, Mass. PROUDFOOT, W. (1985), Religious Experience, Berkeley, CA. SCHLEIERMACHER, F.D.E. (1996/1799), On Religion: Speeches to its Cultured Despisers, Cambridge. TAYLOR, M.C. (1992), Disfiguring. Art, Architecture, Religion, Chicago/London. WARSHOW, R. (1962), The Immediate Experience. Movies, Comics, Theatre and Other Aspects of Popular Culture, Garden City, NY.

1 Religion, Culture and Cultural Theory

The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research in Practical Theology BRYAN P. STONE Boston University, USA

As a way of exploring the intersections of practical theological research and popular culture, I begin with a particular research project that both illustrates and raises questions about the relevance of popular culture for empirical research in practical theology. I then turn to a more general assessment of the relationship of popular culture to practical theological research.

1. Religion and Violence in Popular Cinema1 The example I begin with comes from American popular cinema, and focuses on the subject of on-screen violence. Extensive media attention is given when film violence is imitated in real life as in the case of high profile “copycat killings”. More alarming, however, is the widespread social affect of portrayals of violence in popular film as documented in hundreds of studies that demonstrate a clear relationship between the viewing of screen violence and anti-social and aggressive behavior, a relationship, moreover, that can hardly be unrelated to the dramatic rise in homicide rates in America in the last half of the 20th century.2 Sociological and psychologi1 Cf. Stone: 1999. 2 See D. Barry, who references a survey of over a thousand such studies over a thirty year period conducted by R. Slaby of the Harvard Education Development Center, E. Donnerstein of the School of Communications, University of California, and L. Eron, professor emeritus of the University of Illinois (Barry: 1993, 40). See J.D. Torr (2002), F.J. Levine and K. Rosich (1996), and the report of the American Psychological Association (1993), which concluded that “there is absolutely no doubt that higher levels of viewing violence on television are correlated with increased acceptance of aggressive attitudes and increased aggressive behavior.”

20

Bryan P. Stone

cal studies consistently demonstrate that in societies deeply shaped by visual culture, we are increasingly desensitized to violence and anesthetized against empathy with the pain of victims. We are, in effect, “habituated” to violence not only by repeatedly watching it on screen, but by the way such behavior is repeatedly depicted as both “natural” and “right” (Miles: 1996, 27). But how does this happen? How is violence portrayed cinematically as “natural” and “right” in such a way as to habituate us to it? According to M. Miles in her book Seeing and Believing, a filmgoer’s values and perceptions are more likely to be powerfully and lastingly shaped by the cumulative effect of repeated film conventions and recurrent images rather than by the explicit messages conveyed by a film. No one film has iconic power, but the recurrence of similar images across films weaves those images into the fabric of the common life of American society, influencing everything from clothing styles to accepted and expected behavior. Filmic conventions, of which most spectators are never consciously aware, cumulatively affect Americans’ self-esteem, expectations, attitudes, and behavior in relationships. That is why it is important to examine and to question them, to ask of them the ancient question of the Holy Grail: Whom does it serve? (Miles: 1996, 190)

If Miles is right, those who protest or would censor particular films almost always overestimate the power of an individual film to shape a people’s values and behaviors. Communication theorists know that the most powerful messages come in the form of “pattern-recognition”. It is not so much the explicit messages we hear or see that communicate as it is that, by observing something over and over again in a certain pattern, we literally “get” the message of that pattern. In answer to the question of how on-screen violence is portrayed in such a way as to “habituate” us to it, I would suggest that at least one of the ways this occurs is by linking violence positively to religious faith in a way that is not entirely unlike its historical linkage off screen in our local communities, nations, and world. To the extent violence is associated with piety and moral responsibility, or interpreted as the way good triumphs over evil, or understood as commanded by God (and thus construed as working “with the grain of the universe”), it is legitimated as not only “natural” but “right”. One may certainly point to a handful of individual films that explicitly challenge violence on the basis of religious faith (Gandhi, for example). But if Miles is correct, it is not the explicit messages of these individual films that are likely to shape our perceptions of the relationship between religion and violence as much as it is the cumulative effect of popular film conventions and recurrent images over time. In 1999, I directed a study that sought to examine the phenomenon of religion and violence as portrayed together in the top twenty grossing films in America during each of the years from 1990–1998 (a total of 180 films). In

The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research

21

order to study this relationship, a prior determination had to be made as to what was meant by each of these two important terms. As R. McAfee Brown observes, “Few words in our common vocabulary have been subject to greater abuse and misuse” (McAfee Brown: 1987, 1). The meaning of the term ‘religion’, for example, may be understood broadly as referring to a worldview or, as with Tillich, an “ultimate concern”. Then, too, there is the whole question of civil religion – an amalgam of patriotism, popular socioeconomic values, and baseline moral codes of conduct within a culture. One could argue that film series such as Star Trek, Superman, or Batman owe their popularity to portrayals of redemptive violence in the service of American civil religion. If, however, we are looking for how popular film habituates us to violence by linking it with religious faith, we must train our attention on those activities, images, and symbols that viewers recognize as explicitly religious. With regard to research design, the question is not one of finding an adequate theological or philosophical definition but rather of finding one that designates phenomena likely to be recognized as religious to a widespread audience of filmgoers. Therefore, a more narrow definition of religion was employed for the purposes of the study, one that was limited to explicit and publicly identifiable religious faith traditions, cults, and sects. In defining violence, on the other hand, a broader, more inclusive definition was used that went beyond conventional definitions that emphasize explicit physical acts of destruction where “someone is roughed up, pushed around, hit, stabbed, shot, raped, or in some other way made the object of physical abuse” (McAfee Brown: 1987, 6). For this wider definition, violence may be both personal and social, overt and covert, physical and psychological. When one individual “violates the personhood” of another or when social institutions and structures are arranged in such a way as to violate a people’s social or personal integrity, then, as McAfee Brown suggests, “violence is an appropriate term to describe what has happened to them” (McAfee Brown: 1987, 8). Unlike religion, it is not essential that violence be recognized as violence by movie-going audiences in order for it to shape their values, attitudes, and behavior. Again, the point of the study is how on-screen linkages between religion and violence in popular film habituate us to violence as “natural” or “right”. Based on these definitions, the study revealed that roughly one-third of the 180 US top-grossing films in the 1990’s contained some representation of religion, even if it was nothing more than a clergy person performing a marriage or a funeral. Of those 62, however, 44 featured religion in some direct relationship to violence. Four primary categories surfaced as ways of interpreting this relationship: (1) religion portrayed as coming to the aid of victims of violence, (2) religion portrayed as supportive of or leading to

22

Bryan P. Stone

violence, (3) religion portrayed as rejecting violence, and (4) religion juxtaposed to violence in some other way, usually for the sake of a cinematic aesthetic. These categories are not watertight and some films contained images that fell into more than one category. 1. Religious aid to victims of violence. As to the first category, we discovered that popular film often portrays religion as neither supportive of nor opposed to violence, but quite simply as a source of comfort and aid to victims of violence. In these instances (usually no more than brief images), religious persons or institutions typically play a chaplaincy role, a common cinematic convention for which is the presence of a clergyperson at a funeral or in the midst of a disaster, offering Last Rites or comforting the injured, violated, and bereaved. Religion can also be portrayed as a source of strength or as a last resort in the face of impending disasters, whether the result of natural causes or alien attacks. Popular films often feature the nowstandard montage of religious communities around the world praying for salvation from apocalyptic doom, each in its own way, thereby communicating to the viewer a sense of the international gravity of a situation and of religion as globally important as a resource in times of trouble. Religious persons and institutions are also frequently portrayed as providing physical or emotional sanctuary to victims of violence in the form of protection or hideout from injury and persecution. 2. Religious support for the use of violence. Though religion can often serve as a chaplain to or sanctuary for victims of violence in popular film, it is far more likely to be portrayed as supportive of or leading to violence. In fact, most of the films that featured sustained images or scenes of religion in relation to film fell in this category. This does not mean that religion is always portrayed in a negative light in such instances. For while religion can certainly be depicted as corrupt or corrupted and therefore leading to immoral or unrighteous violence, it is just as often depicted as supportive of violence cast as redemptive and righteous. When religion is portrayed as supportive of redemptive violence, one of two standard images is typically employed: the crusader or the spiritual warrior. The crusader is intent on defeating the enemy of God, who is often characterized as an infidel or heretic (think of Van Helsing hunting down Dracula in Bram Stoker’s Dracula). But the figure of the crusader may also surface in the stock image of the priest who blesses warriors prior to their engagement in battle (as in Braveheart or Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves). This is, of course, a visual clue that the cause of the warrior is just and the opponent is evil. Even Walt Disney’s Mulan heads into battle out of a sense of Chinese filial piety, prays to her ancestors for help, and receives that help

The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research

23

in the form of a diminutive dragon-spirit who guides and protects her both in training and in battle. In some instances, especially in the Western genre, the crusader appears as a godsend – for example in Tombstone, where the arrival of legendary sheriff Wyatt Earp is portrayed as the fulfillment of a prophesy about a coming judgment that will lead to the demise of local bandits. In other instances, the crusader looks more like a tribal “holy man” as in Disney’s The Lion King where a baboon named Rafiki beats up the wicked hyenas. In fact, the entire film is predicated on the holiness of violence as intrinsic to “the circle of life,” an effective way of mythologizing and sacralizing the notion that violence is built into “the way things are”. Similar to the image of the crusader is the image of the spiritual warrior who may engage in violence out of a religious motivation, to be sure, but even more importantly out of a proper spiritual discipline or power. The Jedi knights of the Star Wars series are classic exemplars of this motif, especially in scenes where Luke Skywalker is trained in the proper use of the mystical “force” in battle by his spiritual masters, Obi-wan Kenobi and Yoda. Even though Obi-wan teaches that “there are alternatives to fighting” and Yoda holds that “The Jedi uses the force for knowledge and defense, never for attack,” this does not prevent violence from being scripted into each climactic scene as the primary vehicle for redemption. The ultimate victory of good over evil always boils down to firing laser blasters, detonating bombs, or slicing through one’s enemies with a light saber. Many other variations of this could be mentioned, such as the sharpshooter in Saving Private Ryan who quotes from the Hebrew Psalter prior to each of the carefully calculated shots that invariably strike their targets. These quotations are not ordinary prayers offered up by a frightened soldier. Private Jackson quotes scripture as a way of lining up his rifle, and each shot is offered up as a prayer. Almost as prevalent as portrayals of religion supporting righteous or redemptive violence are portrayals of religion as the fountain of immoral and corrupt violence. Three favorite Hollywood images for expressing this relationship are the hypocrite, the fanatic, and the sorcerer. The hypocrite is a figure who presents a socially prominent, religious façade to the public, but whose religiosity is actually a thin veil covering a corrupt character that leads ultimately to violent or injurious behavior. The harm that he or she inflicts on others is made all the worse because of the perversion of its religious origins. At other times, Hollywood chooses to employ the image of the fanatic to signify the bending of religion to violent ends. Southern American rednecks and members of cults or of the Ku Klux Klan frequently stand in as representatives of this image, and it is clearly their religious motivation that drives their violence (A Time to Kill, A Few Good Men,

24

Bryan P. Stone

Waterboy, Contact). A final image of religious faith as a motivation for unrighteous violence is the sorcerer, epitomized in Star Wars’ deeply religious Darth Vader who has perfected an openness to and harmony with the “dark side” of the mystical force at the heart of the universe and finds others’ “lack of faith disturbing.” Though Vader offers a contrast to the righteous spirituality of Luke Sykwalker, they both employ their spiritual power in the service of violence. 3. Religious support for the rejection of violence. In only three of the 44 films that feature a direct relationship between religion and violence is religious faith portrayed as leading to the rejection of violence. Interestingly, two of these films have a Native American context (Pocahontas and Dances With Wolves). The third film, Pulp Fiction, features two gangsters who narrowly and miraculously escape being killed by a fusillade of bullets at close range. After emptying the chambers of their guns into the body of their would-be killer, the dialogue then turns to a debate between the two gangsters as to whether this event was in fact divine intervention or just luck. One of the gangsters (played by Samuel L. Jackson) experiences the event as a miracle and decides to give up his life of violence and crime. He has had a “moment of clarity” and believes that “God got involved.” It is ironic that Pulp Fiction, which is one of the most violent films of the 1990’s, should also end up as one of the only films in the study that featured an explicit rejection of violence out of a clearly religious motivation. 4. Religion juxtaposed to violence. A final category for analyzing the relationship of religion to violence in popular film is the visual juxtaposition or contraposition of religion to violence. Here religion is not portrayed explicitly as either supportive of or opposed to violence, but as instead a set of counter-images against which violence is to be read. A classic example is the Godfather trilogy, directed by Francis Ford Coppola. Just as in the original Godfather where scenes of Michael Corleone at an infant baptism are intercut with a killing spree he has ordered, so in Godfather, Part III the killings are set against the backdrop of the Cavalleria Rusticana, an opera featuring murder and betrayal in the context of an Easter mass and the religious procession associated with it. What we see on screen is murder after murder intercut with depictions of the Madonna and the crucified, buried, and resurrected Christ. Other examples could be mentioned where the violent is made to appear all the more violent by its intrusion into sacred space, but one of the more fascinating is John Woo’s Face/Off, starring Nicholas Cage and John Travolta. Scene after scene intersperse shooting with religious images and spaces, perhaps highlighting the switching of identities that is at the very

The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research

25

heart of the plot where evil is disguised as good and good is disguised as evil. The conclusion of the film heightens the contrast between good and evil by featuring an extraordinarily brutal shoot-out within a small church intercut with depictions of crucifixes, the madonna, religious flowers, votive candles, and flying doves. The scene is a virtual ballet of violence, much of which is filmed in slow motion so that we see bullets floating through the air, fire lurching out of pistols, and victims falling to the ground all choreographed against the backdrop of a church sanctuary. This increasingly common device of juxtaposing the sacred and the violent may be read in several ways, but whenever employed always serves as a filmic device for drawing attention to the violent. This relatively small research project, I believe, is illustrative of a number of issues that arise for the theological study of popular culture. Its results, of course, are discouraging for those who would like to believer that religious faith is or ought to be an influence in personal or social life moving us away from violence and toward nonviolence and peace-making. In popular film, violence is largely portrayed as compatible with religious faith and, as a result, viewers are habituated to violence as “natural” and “right” to the extent that they take the religious as pointing to or representing that which is ultimate, sacred, and moral. It is true that religion is often depicted as opposing what is portrayed as “unrighteous” violence, but even then religious faith endorses and leads to violence as “redemptive”, raising important theological questions about whether violence can ever be truly redemptive. Clearly it is perceived as such in popular cinema, raising the further question of the extent to which forms of popular culture such as cinema reflect the world in which we live, on the one hand, and the extent to which they shape and determine that world, on the other. Perhaps we are also led to conclude that American religion–and Christianity in particular, to the extent that Christianity provides the primary religious coordinates in relation to which popular film works – has failed adequately to challenge the notion of redemptive violence. That would not be surprising, though it calls for serious theological reflection and an embodied and imaginative practical response. But perhaps the problem is instead that popular film is unable, unwilling, or uninterested in portraying an authentic religious challenge to violence. Does Christian faith never lead human beings to opt for more nonviolent paths in our culture? Is the Christian response to war only ever a chaplain or court priest throwing holy water on the troops as they head out to battle? A crusader or fanatic incited by religious fervor? Part of the difficulty here is that popular film in order to be “popular” is fairly enslaved to standard film conventions that truncate depth and abbreviate complexity in the service of entertainment. This is never truer than in

26

Bryan P. Stone

its depictions of religious faith and experience. Indeed, in her book Seeing and Believing, Margaret Miles makes a compelling argument that on-screen violence can never be associated with anything other than entertainment. For media-literate Americans, violence is entertainment; a film cannot use violent images to communicate a different message. Neither can such images provoke social action. Violent images will rarely inform, sensitize, or instill social responsibility in people who are accustomed to assuming a spectatorial distance that yields voyeuristic pleasure without requiring, or permitting, active engagement. In short, a film that employs an adventure film’s scenes of sex and violence cannot communicate anything but voyeuristic exploitation of suffering people. The pain of the oppressed is ultimately used for the entertainment of comfortable spectators. (Miles: 1996, 66)

If Miles is right, perhaps it is for this reason that religion itself, when linked with violence in popular film, becomes little more than a useful convention for enhancing the entertainment value of violence, a visual or plot device to emphasize and draw attention to the violent – to make the violent more violent by juxtaposing it to the sacred. There may be those rare films that feature a glimmer of the power of religious faith to transform human life and challenge both personal and structural violence. But those films tend to minimize or even shun Hollywood film conventions and thereby risk their own popularity. Violence is increasingly embedded in our lives as we are exposed to image after image of it on screen. Religion, rather than challenging this violence typically serves either as a justification and legitimation of violence or as a device for enhancing the entertainment value of violence. In either case, it is not difficult to conclude that we as filmgoers are steadily habituated to violence as “the way things are” and “the way things must be”.

2. Popular Culture and Practical Theological Research It would be an understatement to claim that the study of popular culture is on the rise. The last decade has witnessed a mushrooming of the field with scores of new books, journals, courses, degree programs, and academic departments devoted to it within colleges and universities around the world. This is due to several factors, not the least of which is a paradigm shift in how we think of culture, a turn from what K. Tanner calls a modern anthropological understanding of cultures as “self-contained and clearly bounded units” to a postmodern understanding, in which, if cultures are to be considered wholes, they are “contradictory and internally fissured wholes” and more like un-centered sites of ongoing conflict, adaptation, cross-pollinization, and improvisation (Tanner: 1997, 38, 57). We may also characterize

The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research

27

this shift as representing a growing valuation of diversity over unity and heterogeneity over purity, and thus a reaction against the elitism of modernity. When there is no single privileged perspective under the guise of neutral and objective reason, all perspectives become valid, and popular culture is as legitimate as high art and just as worthy an object of academic study and reflection. The burgeoning of the field is also due, of course, to the sheer volume of human experience that passes under the name of “popular culture”: music, cinema, sports, supermarket magazines, fashion, television, pornography, theme parks, popular fiction, comics, body piercing, tattooing, celebrities, food, holidays, the internet, etc. These and far more are now studied seriously from a variety of theoretical and methodological approaches that incorporate the full spectrum of academic disciplines (there is now already a distinct body of literature known as “Madonna studies”). Any discussion of the relevance of popular culture for empirical research in practical theology, therefore, is complicated by this overwhelming and bewildering diversity of phenomena along with the particularity and distinctiveness of each aspect of popular culture under examination. To talk about popular culture is to talk about widespread patterns within a culture. But it is also to talk about phenomena and experiences that are irreducibly local, concrete, and particular. How we approach the study of cinema will not necessarily be the same as how we approach the subject of body piercing. How we study popular music videos will not necessarily be the same as how we study popular sports along with its sacred rituals, calendars, and priesthoods. All of this makes the practical theological study of popular culture an exciting and growing edge of the discipline, but one that is characterized by a number of new challenges along with the inherent challenges associated with the practical theological study of any and all cultures, including questions of research design, hermeneutic starting point, normativity, and the church’s practiced engagement with culture. Despite the diversity of phenomena that together may be considered “popular culture”, there is at least one common feature that makes of this diversity a single class with distinctive relevance to the research of practical theologians: namely, that these phenomena are understood as “popular”. Popularity here refers to the fact that these cultural activities or products have a sizeable and widespread audience; but in our time it may also be understood as referring to the way these activities and products are marketdriven, consumer-oriented, and mass mediated (even when directed to particular segments and sub-cultures of a society – for example “country music” or “teenage horror movies”). It is especially this quality of mass mediation that distinguishes “popular” culture from “high” (or “elite”) culture, on the one hand, and from “folk” culture, on the other hand. As B.D. Forbes

28

Bryan P. Stone

remarks, “To employ suggestive examples from the realm of food: high culture is a gourmet meal, folk culture is grandma’s casserole, and popular culture is a McDonald’s hamburger” (Forbes: 2000, 2). To conduct theological research into the nature of popular culture phenomena, therefore, is to ask about widespread artifacts and activities associated with a “way of life” but also about how that way of life is formed by powerful media such as television, radio, cinema, print, and cyberspace. In studying the products and activities of popular culture we are never simply describing the behaviors and desires of contemporary human beings but seeking also to understand the way those behaviors and desires are formed, about the relationships of economic, political, and ideological power to culture. For that reason, theological reflection on popular culture will be aided by empirically oriented social-scientific research but also by critical theories and perspectives found in the field of cultural studies (for example, Marxist, feminist, queer, and post-colonial perspectives) that shed light on and call into question the economic and political structures that support and sustain many of the most widespread cultural assumptions of capitalist societies. Because the term “popular culture” describes a way of life and, indeed, a process of being formed into a “people”, the theological study of popular culture will invariably be interested in as full an account as possible of how we are socialized into this way of life through an interlocking web of myths, narratives, rituals, institutions, and symbols. That this socialization occurs deliberately and relentlessly almost goes without saying. In fact, a growing, transnational sector of industry understands itself as manufacturing not only products for consumption, but culture itself (cf. Budde/Brimlow: 2002).3 If the phenomena of popular culture may be taken as reflective of what a sizeable portion of a society believes and values, they may also be taken as formative of those beliefs and values. Giving a full account of popular culture, therefore, means asking about the nature of that formation, why the way of life it produces is so popular, and what we are to make of that. In my own North American context, for example, what makes the characters on the animated television program The Simpsons so iconic? Why does the divorce between Jennifer Aniston and Brad Pitt get more news coverage on major broadcast news stations than genocide in Darfur? Why does Superbowl Sunday rival if not surpass the importance of

3 As Budde and Brimlow put it, “culture industries are increasingly combined in webs of cross-promotion and ‘synergy’ (for example, a Disney movie spawns a Disney-published book and a Disney-published soundtrack, all of which are hyped on Disney-owned television and radio networks, and which enjoy cross-promotions via Disney’s long-term deal with McDonald’s restaurants)” (2002, 63).

The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research

29

major national and religious holidays? Why does Oprah Winfrey command a larger audience than some mainline Protestant denominations? Finding theologically significant answers to questions such as these is complex. On the one hand, a theological understanding of popular culture is never solely an empirical or historical science but always starts from a hermeneutically defined situation that seeks to bring to light the meaning of human actions and to make possible richly textured “readings” of them. On the other hand, the possibility of such “readings” remains impossible apart from multidisciplinary and interdisciplinary research that includes a wide range of philosophical, historical, and social-scientific methodologies along with various forms of cultural criticism, mythological criticism, and ideological criticism. Both the normative and the empirical help us to “see” what is present and are therefore involved in a dance of vision and interpretation aimed at knowing why a particular activity or cultural product is widespread and what that tells us about the situation in which the church’s worship, witness, formation, and obedience is carried out. Thus, even though a practical theological approach to popular culture requires a particular hermeneutical stance in which are already implied normative judgments about the telos of human existence and about the church’s relationship to culture, it is impossible to wholly determine ahead of time what might be of theological significance in popular culture. We must attend to its stories, images, practices, and institutions in their entirety, from the most mundane and worldly to the most transparently religious. The practical theologian will attempt to observe and interpret anything and everything in order to better comprehend prevailing understandings of self and agency, history and transcendence along with patterns of sociality and authority, virtue and vice. All of these are the ingredients of our formation into a people and of the “social imaginaries” in which we live, move, and have our being.4 Often this “peopling” rivals, contradicts, and even thwarts that of the Christian ecclesia; and the church’s stance toward popular culture will of necessity be critical and subversive, embodied in the tasks of clarifying and exemplifying its difference through truthful worship, prophetic witness, and compassionate service. At the same time, the practical theologian is always open to finding traces of God’s presence and activity in popular culture, however much the church remains the primary and critical point of reference for locating and reflecting upon that presence and activity, and for establishing the theological relevance of any and all schol4 I borrow the term ‘social imaginary’ from persons such as C. Taylor, J. Milbank, B. Anderson, and W. Cavanaugh, for whom a social imaginary is that whole complex of practices, habits, relations, and stories that has the “power to discipline bodies, to habituate them and script them into a drama of its own making.” (Cavanaugh: 1998, 31).

30

Bryan P. Stone

arship that may take interest in the church or in which the church might take interest. It is important at this point to emphasize that practical theologians need not be confined in their study to those places where religion intersects with popular culture in explicit ways, whether that is in terms of popular culture drawing upon the symbols, narratives, and rituals of religious traditions or in terms of religious traditions borrowing from (and at times accommodating themselves to) popular cultural practices and trends. So, to use cinema as an example once again, the most theologically provocative popular films are not necessarily those with explicitly religious themes or references such as those toward which my initial illustration was oriented. Films that raise profound existential questions or that lay bare the human condition in important ways will just as likely prove relevant to the theological study of popular culture. Theologians typically sit up and take notice when a major motion picture is made about the life of Christ, especially when that film sparks public controversy or raises the ire of religious communities. But just as important for theological reflection is the power of otherwise trivial teenage comedies to command a large, almost cult following among young people, or the way a new wave of horror films reflect the geopolitical fears and anxieties of a society or nation, especially in relation to war. The practical theologian does not look only for the religious but for religious meaning. That said, it is nonetheless true that theological research into the phenomena of popular culture will be interested in its intersections and shared turf with religion – specifically, those points where particular forms of popular culture are experienced as sites of transcendence (a powerful film might be spoken of in such terms) or where traditional forms of religion are criticized as banal, uninspiring, or downright evil. It will take special interest in those venues where important conversations about God are taking place or where a society’s framework and conventions of moral discourse are being set (television talk shows, for example; cf. Lowney: 1999). It will also take special interest in those popular cultural activities and institutions that serve as sites upon which new forms of civil religion or “popular religion” are being built (as anyone who has ever visited a sports arena or a Star Trek convention will attest). If religious experience has found new social and institutional homes outside of more traditional religious patterns, activities, and associations, practical theologians will want to know why, and they will want to know to what extent this may be significant for the way the church carries out its mission in the world.

The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research

31

3. Images and Symbols One of the first places a researcher might look for theological meaning in popular culture is its vast storehouse – or “marketplace” – of images and symbols that simultaneously shape and reflect our understandings of self, others, society, and world. Religious traditions participate in this marketplace of images both by contributing to them and drawing upon them. While the theological researcher will be alert to the presence of religious images and symbols in popular culture, their mere presence is no indication of the vitality of the particular religious traditions in which those images or symbols originate. In a postmodern culture, their presence may even signal a decline of religious vitality to the extent that they are employed ironically, made to serve other practices and traditions, or manipulated as “props” for economic, national, or cultural interests that may well be antithetical to the stories and values of their originating traditions. So, for example, it is not clear that the use of the Dalai Lama’s image to sell Apple computers (cf. Iwamura: 2000, 25–43) is consistent with the values of Tibetan Buddhism. Nor can we assume that Christianity is alive and well in modern Western cultures simply because we find the cross affixed as piece of jewelry to the nose of a heavy metal rocker, tattooed on the chest of a gangsta’ rapper, or hung around the neck of flamboyant pop artists as oversized and diamondencrusted “bling”. It is also worth noting the ways Christians themselves participate in this manipulation and commodification of religious symbols as, for example, when the cross is treated as a “prop,” as S. Hoover has shown in the case of Willow Creek Community Church outside Chicago. Willow Creek intentionally removes explicit Christian symbolism throughout its buildings and sanctuary space in order to project a corporate ethos in which unchurched suburbanites will feel more at home. The cross is brought out only for special occasions such as baptism – a strategy that, while it might initially seem to reflect a trivialization of the cross, is understood instead by Hoover as “a more profound and more meaningful use than simply hanging it on a wall, week after week, so that it is never manipulated, appropriated, or used” (Hoover: 2000, 158). Of course, this relatively positive judgment of Willow Creek’s use of the cross as a “prop” implies the acceptance of a utilitarian aesthetic that is hardly neutral and must itself be made the object of study by practical theologians and evaluated by criteria that are ultimately derived from the story-formed norms of a theological tradition. But the point here is that if we are to make theological sense of images and symbols in popular culture, we cannot confine ourselves to text-based research on the historical and philosophical meaning of such symbols. What is instead required is a combination of methodological approaches that can

32

Bryan P. Stone

explore and compare the way both secular and religious communities and subcultures treat images, the cultural, economic, political, and aesthetic frames of reference in which those images are being employed, and the relevance of all this to the way the church’s worship, formation, and evangelism occur in the context of prevailing patterns of communication and imagination. A relatively good example of what this sort of study might look like is T. Beaudoin’s Virtual Faith: The Irreverent Spiritual Quest of Generation X, in which he offers a theological interpretation of “Generation X”5 pop culture and draws important conclusions for the church’s ministry with this subculture. Beaudoin’s study is a relevant example for the question of empirical research in practical theology in part because of its starting point in ethnographic research by which he is able to paint a coherent and theologically provocative picture of this distinctive group of people as those for whom institutional religion is suspect; personal experience is primary and sacred (especially immediate or bodily experience); psycho-social suffering and alienation carries a religious dimension; and ambiguity is central to identity and faith formation. In painting this picture, one of the central dimensions of Beaudoin’s work is the importance he assigns to images and signs (especially religious images and signs) that surface in various forms of popular culture such as music videos, fashion, and cyberspace. Beaudoin finds in these symbolic intersections of religion and popular culture an implicit theology and the traces of an authentic spirituality that, however “irreverent,” is not inimical to the possibility of a life and ministry that is religiously vital, deeply sacramental, and able to reclaim the Christian tradition in new and imaginative ways. For Beaudoin, popular culture is something like what D. Rushkoff calls a “datasphere,” an ever-changing and omnipresent system of interlocking stories and images that are constantly being combined and recombined. Individuals and communities find meaning and make meaning in relation to this datasphere, even when they protest against it. On this understanding, the image is primary in popular culture. In fact, any popular cultural interpretation is itself “a chain of signs, with one image leading to another.” The task of the practical theologian, accordingly, is “to plumb, inquire, interrogate, associate, unleash, be playful, and look for traces of theological residue on the surfaces of these images, if only to see God moving away from us, sensing the egress of the divine, as Moses did” (Beaudoin: 1998, 47). 5 “Generation X” is the label given by some demographers and cultural theorists for Americans born in the 1960’s and 1970’s. I am not, in general, a subscriber to generational theory, though I recognize its limited use in some contexts and discussions. I am also not certain how helpful it is in an international context.

The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research

33

Again, the mere presence of religious symbols in popular culture cannot tell us much. But when understood in the context of the intra-referential matrices of Generation X experience, these symbols can be understood as carrying important theological weight insofar as they not only contribute to the identity and worldview formation of the persons who traverse in them but also carry out the critical work of deconstructing the world they have inherited including, not incidentally, the religious traditions of that world. So, by analyzing the strategic presence and manipulation of religious images in music videos, for example, Beaudoin can proceed to construct what the spiritual path of Gen X’ers might look like while also identifying how they feel alienated from or left out of traditional paths. This kind of work, I take it, is enormously important to the aims of an empirically oriented practical theology. And though one might argue that, at points, Beaudoin’s work lacks sufficient critical perspective on the fundamentally consumerist logic of Gen X pop culture, it is rare to find a volume that carries out the practical theological study of popular culture in a truly integrative and interdisciplinary way that moves beyond wholly philosophical, or normative approaches, on the one hand, and wholly empirical and phenomenological approaches, on the other.

4. The Medium and the Message Closely related to the study of particular images and symbols in popular culture is research into how their mass mediation both enables and restricts various patterns of communication, agency, and community, all with significant implications for how Christians bear witness to their faith, structure their life together, and carry out homiletical, liturgical, and other core ecclesial practices. M. McLuhan’s pronouncement in 1964 that “the medium is the message” is now a cliché (McLuhan: 1964). But for the practical theologian studying popular culture, it represents an entire research agenda. One reason this is so is that religious practitioners often attempt to mimic popular trends in culture so as to better reach or relate to persons formed by that culture. Preachers, for instance, are advised to accommodate their messages to the relatively short attention span that has been formed by years of television viewing (7–8 minutes between commercials) (Forbes: 2000,1). Likewise, Christians who once demonized popular entertainments have become quick to adopt the formats and technologies of those entertainments (television, musical styles, merchandising, marketing) for the sake of evangelistic “success” or liturgical “relevance”, confident (though “naively” so, one could argue) that the form in which the faith is presented is neutral as to

34

Bryan P. Stone

the content of that faith. A practical theologian, therefore, might ask about the extent to which, in order to achieve cultural popularity, Christians have had to alter the depth, complexity, and distinctiveness of their own witness. But even beyond the Christian’s intentional borrowing from popular culture, those of us who live in modern Western societies are influenced more than we can possibly know by the very forms of electronic, visual, and internet media. As G. Goethals argues, the electronic medium of television “perhaps more than any other, has amplified and reshaped the ritualistic dimensions of our worldly experiences” (Goethals: 2000, 132). An entire nation can now grieve and celebrate together – indeed, this is now true on a global scale, as with the recent funerals of Princess Diana or Pope John Paul II. But while popular electronic media such as television or the internet make new forms of community possible, they also perpetuate a privatization of faith intrinsic to the modern liberal project, with enormous consequences for any understanding of Christian salvation as intrinsically ecclesial or of worship as not only corporate but corporeal. Given the fact that the lone Christian believer can now access internet sites in which he or she can worship and pray and even be led through a private eucharistic ritual, a central question for practical theologians is the (not so) simple one of whether the church can be the church on the internet. Indeed, that question is a good starting point for a course in ecclesiology, for implicit within it are many of the major ecclesiological questions and challenges currently facing the church. The influence not only of electronic media but of visual media on religious experience and practice is impossible to overestimate. As I noted in my initial illustration, numerous sociological and psychological studies have demonstrated the extent to which repeated exposure to certain images over time shapes our values, attitudes, and behaviors. This is also true in terms of the associations we come to make with regard to particular groups of people based on popular cultural representations of, for example, gender, race, ethnicity, religion, the body, and sexuality. So for example, imagine a harmless “family-oriented” motion picture with no violence, no sex, no profanity, no mention of the occult – an inspiring little piece about the triumph of a hero against all the odds. Perhaps Christians are happy that Hollywood has finally made another “family film” and they rush out to watch it. However, the only ethnic minorities who appear in the film are a maid in a hotel and a homeless man begging for money at an off-ramp. Now, the inspirational message about triumphing over tough odds, while immediately heart-warming, is actually the short-term and forgettable message received from the film. The longer-term and more powerful message, the one that shapes our values and behaviors will be the one we receive from the standard Hollywood convention of placing ethnic minorities in stereotypically

The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research

35

servile roles, so that this is what we come to expect not merely in the movies but in our real lives. In order to move beyond mere impressions about such matters, the practical theologian will need to conduct and to build upon empirical research and critical perspectives about the nature and influence of visual images on the sorts of associations we form about persons and about groups of persons. When this research is carried out from within a theological frame of reference, moreover, it goes beyond merely identifying these associations in order to raises suspicions, form judgments, and imagine practiced alternatives relative to the way those associations support the powers of domination in our world and thereby thwart the reign of God. This also goes to show why a practical theological study of popular culture must go beyond the mere identification and interpretation of relevant images and symbols in order to explore how they are “produced” – in other words, the very practices surrounding the phenomenon under study. In the case of film this would include the study of how films are constructed, financed, and marketed and the relationship between media, capital, and technology. It would also include the study of film reception (censorship, boycotts, awards, etc.) and audience research that seeks empirical evidence through ethnographic and historical studies designed to help us understand and interpret the way the meaning of a film is constructed and the uses to which films are put. It is not only electronic, internet, and visual media, however, that require research when contemplating the theological significance of popular cultural constructions of human experience. An empirical-theological approach to popular culture may also employ the insights and methodologies of ritual and cultural theorists in exploring the way space and time are re-configured in rites of sport and in popular entertainments such as concerts, festivals, and theme parks and, further, how those configurations both shape and are shaped by more traditional religious rites along with their corresponding patterns of space, time, and human participation. It may also want to explore the way myths about how we should live our lives are perpetuated by various forms of popular culture and structured into concrete practices: myths about the body, for example, that are structured into practices of fashion, dieting, and body sculpture; or myths about success, beauty, and power that are structured into obsessions with viewing or reading about celebrities, public figures, or royalty (here, of course, popular culture constructs both our iconophilia as well as our iconoclasm). How we tell our most important stories, who does the telling, and in what “public” those stories are heard all shape the story itself in profound ways, thereby inviting us to look closer at the phenomena in which those stories are embedded. The turn to popular culture on the part of practical theologians is an acceptance of that invitation in the hope that by better understand-

36

Bryan P. Stone

ing the habits, practices, and social patterns in which meaning is both made and found for vast numbers of people in our world, we may better clarify the habits, practices, and social patterns by which we are formed into the body of Christ. At times, the study of popular cultural will reveal profound expressions of spiritual yearning to which the church must learn to relate itself if it wishes to remain vital and to be taken seriously. At other times, that study will reveal violent, xenophobic, and atomizing processes of formation which, though “popular”, must be exposed for what they are and answered by a rival formation in the shape of a new peoplehood, an alternative and ecclesial counter-culture. “Popularity”, so it turns out, is an exceptionally complex category, especially when considered theologically. It may function descriptively as a designation for what is actually the case with a large number of people and is therefore a matter of critical focus for a church that has been called into existence for the life of the world. But it can also function seductively as that to which the church ought to aspire if it wants to “succeed”, “triumph”, or become “relevant”. It is not clear, however, that “popularity” will ever be compatible with fidelity for a people who follow a crucified Lord, who are called to reject the world’s calculus of power and success, and who have likewise been told by the one whom they follow that in entrusting their lives to him, they “will never be proven right until beyond the end of this story and cannot count on being positively reinforced along all of the way” (Yoder: 1998, 112f). That does not mean, however, that a faithful church is called to retreat from the world, to “look away”, or, as is often the case, to baptize as holy the traditional cultural forms from its past over against new, “popular” forms. It does mean, however, that with regard to all cultural phenomena it encounters, the church is required to look closely.

References AMERICAN PSYCHOLOGICAL ASSOCIATION (1993), Violence & Youth: Psychology’s Response, Washington, D.C. BARRY, D. (1993), Screen Violence: It’s Killing Us, Harvard Magazine 96, 38–43. BEAUDOIN, T. (1998), Virtual Faith: The Irreverent Spiritual Quest of Generation X, San Francisco. BUDDE, M.L./BRIMLOW, R.W. (2002), Christianity Incorporated: How Big Business is Buying the Church, Grand Rapids. CAVANAUGH, W. (1998), Torture and Eucharist: Theology, Politics, and the Body of Christ, Oxford. FORBES, B.D. (2000), Introduction. Finding Religion in Unexpected Places, in: B.D. Forbes/ J.H. Mahan (ed.), Religion and Popular Culture in America, Berkeley, 1–20. GOETHALS, G. (2000), The Electronic Golden Calf: Transforming Ritual and Icon, in: B.D. Forbes/J.H. Mahan (ed.), Religion and Popular Culture in America, Berkeley, 125–145.

The Relevance of Popular Culture for Empirical Research

37

HOOVER, S. (2000), The Cross at Willow Creek: Seeker Religion and the Contemporary Marketplace, in: B.D. Forbes/J.H. Mahan (ed.), Religion and Popular Culture in America, Berkeley, 145–160. IWAMURA, J.N. (2000), The Oriental Monk in American Popular Culture, in: B.D. Forbes/ J.H. Mahan (ed.), Religion and Popular Culture in America, Berkeley, 25–43. LEVINE, F.J./ROSICH, K. (1996), The Social Causes of Violence, Washington, D.C. LOWNEY, K.S. (1999), Baring Our Souls: TV Talk Shows and the Religion of Recovery, New York. MCAFEE BROWN, R. (21987), Religion and Violence, Philadelphia. MCLUHAN, M. (1964), Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man, New York. MILES, M. (1996), Seeing and Believing: Religion and Values in the Movies, Boston. STONE, B.P. (1999), Religion and Violence in Popular Film, Journal of Religion and Film 3 (http://www.unomaha.edu/jrf/Violence.htm). TANNER, K. (1997), Theories of Culture: A New Agenda for Theology, Minneapolis. TORR, J.D. (ed.) (2002), Violence in Film and Television: Examining Pop Culture, San Diego. YODER, J.H. (1998), The Royal Priesthood: Essays Ecumenical and Ecclesiological, Scottsdale.

Embodied Knowing Understanding Religious Experience in Ritual ANDREA BIELER Pacific School of Religion, Berkeley, USA

Introduction How can we understand religious experience in ritual?1 In the following essay I propose to understand the expression of religious experience in ritual as a practice which is embedded in strategies of ritualization. I suggest situating the question in the realm of practice theory and to conceptualize experience in a more holistic and non-dualistic way as embodied knowing: We “know” through kinesthetic processes and express experience through embodied metaphors. The embodied self-expressions of ritual participants are part of performance scripts in which particular actions and sensual receptions are privileged in their significance and set apart from others. This setting apart leads potentially to the signification of experiences in ritual as religious. I seek to unfold this claim in two major steps. First, I will situate the question in the larger discourse of North American scholars in the area of liturgical studies. This discourse has been inspired by four major turns: a) the recognition of religious diversity and subjectivity; b) the shift in ritual studies from taxonomic frameworks which were used to describe and interpret particular ritual practices to “softer” and more open approaches; c) the shift in liturgical history from the study of rubrics and texts to the worshipping subject; d) the shift in liturgical theology from meta-ontological thinking in sacramental theology to the exploration of actual ritual practice. These four major turns have shaped the empirical research of scholars who do liturgical ethnography.2 Second, I will explore possibilities for approaching expressions of religious experience in the context of ritual. I will look at dichotomous constructions in ritual theory, the concept of ritualization, experience as embodied knowing, and performance scripts. 1 In this essay I presume that understanding entails description and interpretation. 2 Mary E. McGann has coined the term liturgical ethnography which refers to ethnographic work in liturgical studies that is reliable to contextual scholarship in the fields of liturgiology and ethnography (cf. McGann: 2004, XV–XXII).

40

Andrea Bieler

1. Shifts in North American Liturgical Scholarship 1.1 The Recognition of Religious Diversity and Subjectivity I would like to begin with a brief sketch of my own teaching, research, and worship environment that shapes my interest in the question of how to understand religious diversity. Imagine the following students gathering in the campus chapel of Pacific School of Religion in Berkeley, California:3 There is for example the 36-year-old El Salvadorian who was baptized into the Roman Catholic Church; however, she switched to the United Methodist Church in her youth when her parents were relocated to California as refugees. She had to go through a multitude of challenges to adapt to her new context. Then after a few years of going through a coming-out process as a lesbian, she joined the United Church of Christ where she hoped to find a spiritual home. The UCC claims in its denominational policy to be an open and affirming church. In secret moments she confesses that she still loves the Roman Mass and that congregational worship as she encounters it does not speak to her in depth. She can say that she is at the same time athome and not-at-home in her adopted denomination. Or there is the 42-year-old White, Anglo-American student who was raised in an Assembly of God Church. When she grew increasingly critical of the fundamentalist teachings that she had received in her youth, the pastor and people in her congregation turned in abusive ways against her and she became quasi-excommunicated. At the age of 25 she converted to Buddhism and was introduced to a Western-modified form of Japanese Zen which is based on the teachings of Dogan. Having been extremely hurt by Christian fundamentalism, she now wants to encounter a different sort of Christianity in her need for healing from that past. There is the African-American woman who grew up in the South as “Bapto-costal” – Baptist and Pentecostal at once – and who is deeply immersed in African-American Pentecostalism. She describes her worship experiences as ecstatic and cathartic. “Having church today” is purifying for her. She has experienced through her whole life what it means to be disenfranchised because of racism and poverty. For her, going to church is having a home at least in the liminal space of her ritual experience; there she finds a family within the larger U.S. society that has destructive effects on African-American families of origin. And there is the White Quaker student from Minnesota who belongs to the Society of Friends. He seeks in the experience of communal silence to

3 PSR attracts students from about 40 different, mainly Protestant denominations as well as religious pilgrims, who in many cases do not have a stable denominational identity.

Embodied Knowing

41

meet the inner light of Christ. In his worship practice it is out of silence that a word might come out of his mouth that professes the life of the ChristSpirit moving among us and affecting our lives. This student is seriously committed to social justice work that is grounded in the experience of “living in the light”. He is drawn to the Quaker practice of unprogrammed worship in which the Friends sit together in shared silence waiting upon God until someone feels moved to give a testimony about the word that came to him or her (cf. Hall: 1978). And there is the Korean student who grew up in the Presbyterian church of Korea which is deeply grounded in the cultivation of a piety and theology that reflects the convictions of Anglo-American missionaries who came to Korea in the 19th century. His Korean Presbyterianism is blended with Confucian understandings of the communal person and how familial piety stratifies social relationships.4 While his Confucian upbringing leads him to appreciate a sensitivity for the introvert control of modest bodily motion in worship he is in his early morning prayer simultaneously engaged in Tongsung Ki-do, a prayer practice which derives from shamanistic traditions and which invites intense expression of emotion, such as pain and despair.5 He struggles with the way Pacific School of Religion embraces religious pluralism because his way of being a religious person has much more to do with drawing rigid boundaries. Confessing clearly what it means to be a Christian in a habitus of exclusionary truth-claims is what he has learned as a religious person belonging to a minority group. All these students worship together on Tuesday mornings bringing their ritual biographies and sensitivities with them. They come as ritualized bodies who have ingrained in their bones ways of knowing how to pray, how to raise their voices in praise and in lament. They come to worship with a particular sense of rhythm and flow, space and time, liturgical leadership and congregational expression. They bring a conglomerate of assumptions of what ritual practices are about in their traditions and communities. They come with particular ritual sensibilities and value systems of what “good/meaningful worship” is and how religious experience emerges from it. Most of them do not have much practice in how to transgress the bounda-

4 See further Boyung Lee’s observations on the formation of the communal self and the ritualization of the body in societies that are deeply entrenched in Confucianism: “Confucians believe that social solidarity and universal harmony begin from performing routine functions, such as learning to stand, sit, walk and eat, according to socially approved and accepted rites. If people fail to live up to the expectations of the community, they cannot live in harmony with those around them. Through the ritualization of the body, all members of society learn proper and fitting deportment.” (Lee: 2004, 47–48). 5 With regard to Tong-Sung Ki-do Prayer cf. Brown: 2003, 204–208.

42

Andrea Bieler

ries that American identity politics and the segregated Sunday morning worship experience create.6 All these students inhabit a multitude of subject positions which are wrought by their gender, sexual orientation, and ethnicity. Being identified as a person of color in the United States forms religious identity. It shapes the fabric of cultural memory in which people are embedded, such as the history of slavery, or the history of colonialism and mission, or the narratives of refugees. All these aspects have an influence on the religious subject positions7 that emerge from the exposure to various religious traditions, doctrinal systems, ritual sensibilities, pieties, and practices. Subject positions can be in conflict with each other. They can be places of contest that, to different degrees, shape how one understands oneself as ritualizing person.8 Thus, understanding religious experience in ritual is an eminent existential topic for me. It must be nurtured because of a certain kind of productive despair that comes with the task of teaching and worshipping in such a diverse context that is marked by the repercussions of White supremacy, violent fundamentalism, colonial histories, and colonial approaches to the religious practices of “the other”. And it is nurtured by a constantly deepening excitement about the possibilities which that ecumenical environment holds: the creative embrace of religious identity as being syncretistic and fluid and the encounter of people who share very different notions of what worship is about and “should feel like”. 1.2 Shifts in Ritual Studies from Taxonomic Frameworks to “Soft” Approaches The conscious scholarly embrace of the challenges of religious diversity as well as the huge impact that poststructuralist and postmodern thinking had 6 Conversing about experiences and traditions as they are related to rituals across denominational, cultural, and ethnic lines is a challenging task. I experience a learning culture in which intercultural learning is a struggle. There are moments in which the classroom is illuminated by a spirit of deep listening and serious challenging of one another’s perspectives. However, there are also the classroom moments in which students do not engage and learn from one another’s differences but rather attend to them in a posture of passive (and sometimes ignorant) tolerance. As a teacher coming from Germany, I have been only poorly equipped to engage this situation. I am on a learning journey with my students and also with my colleagues in which we struggle with the challenge to unfold communication around issues of religion, experience, and ritual in diverse contexts. 7 I borrow the term subject positions from I.M. Young (1990) who uses it to describe the fluid situatedness and the intersections of identity markers as they relate to constructions of race, class, nationality, gender, religious traditions etc. 8 The issue of conflicting subject positions and of hybrid identities which do not fit in neatly prepared boxes is discussed extensively in postcolonial theories (cf. Werbner/Madood: 1997). I began to reflect on how this might influence the debate on liturgical inculturation in Bieler: 2002, 9–21.

Embodied Knowing

43

on ethnographic studies led to important shifts in ritual studies. We can describe the shifts in ritual studies from taxonomic frameworks which were used to describe and interpret particular ritual practices to “softer” and more open approaches. The role of the observer came under scrutiny as well as the research methods that did not give (enough) room for the actual voices and perspectives of the ones who were “observed”.9 Last but not least, the shift has occurred through the voices of scholars, attached to cultural milieus in their own social location that had been previously studied, who raised issues around the “colonizing gaze” of Anglo-American and European-White researchers. Taxonomic frameworks, as offered for example in structural and symbolic anthropology, seem to provide a hermeneutical lens to interpret ritualized activity and a key for the perception of what happens “behind the curtain” (cf. Bieler: 2003, 236–242). For instance, Marcel Mauss’s theory on sacrificial rites or on gift exchange as the basic form of religious communication has a compelling power (cf. Mauss: 1990, published originally as Essai sur le Don, 1950). Mauss’s theoretical elaborations have become very important for liturgiologists who seek to give their Eucharistic theology an anthropological grounding (cf. Chauvet: 2001, 122ff; Power: 1999, 85ff; Gutmann: 1996, 260ff). Arnold van Gennep’s observations on the processes that occur in rites of passage have been tremendously influential precisely because they offered a system to identify certain genres of ritual practices along with an explanation for ritual efficacy (cf. Gennep: 1960). Presenting his three-phase pattern of separation, margin (or limen), and aggregation, he sought to explain how rites of passage change the status of individuals within a larger social order and in doing so affirm or challenge the structures of every day life. Van Gennep’s theory was picked up by Victor Turner (cf. Turner: 1995) who developed the three-phase pattern into a hermeneutical lens to look at a great variety of rites of passage in different social contexts as well as at social processes at large.10 The theories of Mauss, van Gennep, and Turner 9 When asked in an interview “Should one then, after the analysis, go back to the natives and show them ones results?” the anthropologist Clifford Geertz replied emphatically: “In general, no! When it comes to the cockfights, it is more difficult. I tried to do that, but the cockfight is based on an illusion, so they do not want to understand it. If they did, it would not work. Sometimes people have a natural resistance to understand what they are doing. On the other hand, I did go back and talked with them about what they were doing, but they were not interested in social science or alternative understandings/interpretations of what they are doing. They are not interested in the hermeneutics of cockfights. They already know what it means to them. What I want to do is tell somebody who does not already know what the cockfight means, what it means.” (Micheelsen: 2002, 10). 10 Turner’s famous liminality theory became influential in many academic disciplines beyond ethnographic studies. Turner had a special interest in ritual processes which stabilized and shaped social structures moving from structure to anti-structure, and then to structure again. He looked at

44

Andrea Bieler

were influential across many academic disciplines. But the more the subjective perspectives of the ritual participants were taken seriously the more the complex and diverse expression of religious experiences came to the fore. It became clear that taxonomic frameworks are too likely to present closed systems; therefore, they need to be accompanied and put in tension with more open approaches to the description and interpretation of ritual practice. I learned from the anthropologist Renato Rosaldo how much the search for cultural patterns might be an expression of colonial consciousness about the other: Although the classic vision of unique cultural patterns has proven merit, it also has serious limitations. It emphasizes shared patterns at the expense of processes of change and internal inconsistencies, conflicts, and contradictions. By defining culture as a set of shared meanings, classic norms of analysis make it difficult to study zones of difference within and between cultures. From the classic perspective, cultural borderlands appear to be annoying exceptions rather than central areas for inquiry. (Rosaldo: 1993, 27–28)

Thus, if one focuses primarily on patterns and structures, phenomena that do not follow these patterns are labeled as irregularities or exceptions to the rule. Rosaldo suggests rather to describe cultures as “loosely tied bundles of informal practices” (ibid., 92). These loosely tied bundles of informal practices give room to take improvisational performances into account as well. That does not mean that ritual patterns that have been distilled by theoretical efforts are entirely useless; however, they should not be the exclusive hermeneutical guide for one’s own perception. I suspect that ritual theories which focus on the universal organization of the symbolic order and on principles of social structure, tend to reinforce the idea of the detached observer, who by means of those theories, is seemingly enabled to see from a bird’s-eye view what the ritual participants themselves are not able to perceive. This tendency points to the methodological task of ritual studies to develop a theoretical framework which helps to describe and interpret ritual activities. It also refers to the self-reflexive question of the researcher: How do I learn to see my own presuppositions that shape my perception of ritualized behavior of other people?

rites that produced liminal situations in which a temporary suspension of the social order was lived out by ritual participants. Reverting to the customary system of values actualizes an anti-structure of the social order. Referring to Martin Buber, Turner classifies the new emerging relations as communitas. Real communitas develops through repeal (Aufhebung), negation, or inversion of the common social roles. Hence, rituals may be considered as an attempt to sensually represent the supra-temporal prevailing solidarity of all members of the group by means of a temporary exodus from the common order.

Embodied Knowing

45

1.3 Shifts in Liturgical History: From the Study of Rubrics to the Worshipping Subject Another influential force that has shaped the interest in the articulation of religious experience in ritual is the shift that can be recognized in the field of liturgical history. I mention this discipline as well since liturgical studies tries to attend to the areas of history, theology and ritual theory. It is thus not only concerned with the interpretation of current ritual practices. Liturgical studies also pays attention to the past and to the construction of tradition. It deals with history as it is expressed in doctrinal developments and in rites as they are conserved in liturgical texts. It is also concerned with accounts of lived experiences as they relate to public liturgies of the churches as well as with the varieties of ritual practices that people have engaged with in various arenas of their every day lives.11 Consequently taking this research perspective might lead into the 19th century to the incredible account of the religious experiences of Jarena Lee, the first woman to be licensed to preach in the African Methodist Episcopal Church. In her memoirs Lee (1991/1836) describes two accounts of ecstatic moments in which she experienced herself being urged by the Spirit to stand, exhort sinners, and preach the Good News without waiting for the immediate permission of the male preacher who was supposed to take on this task. Jennifer W. Davidson (2002) analyzes Lee’s account by asking how issues of power and the invention of ritual authority are negotiated. Davidson concludes that it was Lee’s ability “to claim ritual authority by employing ecstatic behavior in ritualization which led to a re-visioning and re-ordering of relationships in the ritualizing body,” eventually leading to her licensing as a preacher in the A.M.E. by Bishop Richard Allen himself. As we can see, being interested in the explication of religious experience of ritual participants has the potential to shape the research interests of historians of liturgy in particular ways. The analysis of historical documents which contain testimonies of ritual meaning-making through the eyes and the mouth of participants in ritual is a significant research perspective that needs further exploration.12 Critical skills are necessary to interpret the purposes as to why those accounts have been put on paper. It is exciting to see in the area of liturgical studies how emerging scholars like Jennifer Davidson use ways of framing research questions that derive from the field of ritual studies for the interpretation of historical sources. Asking questions 11 See for an interest in various arenas of ritual activities White: 2003. 12 Serious attempts in historical scholarship on ritual practices have been made by scholars who are committed to a feminist or gender perspective with regard to worship (cf. White: 2003; Berger: 1999). F. Senn (2006) offers a social history of worship that seeks to give voice to people’s experience.

46

Andrea Bieler

in this way creates an interesting intersection between historical studies which attend to sources reflecting past events and ritual studies which focus on hermeneutical and methodological questions for empirical research. These questions expand the traditional focus on worship books and missals and curtail the eisegesis of doctrinal meaning into the printed liturgical text. 1.4 Shifts in Liturgical Theology: From Meta-ontological Thinking in Sacramental Theology to the Exploration of Actual Ritual Practice Major shifts have occurred in liturgical theology – especially in Roman Catholic sacramental theology – that give room for the articulation of experience in sacramental ritual praxis. Some scholars have moved from the meta-ontological conceptualization of what sacraments are and what they effect to the reflection of sacramental practice. This shift leads to the arena of embodiment, ritual practice, and language as the loci of sacramental practice. I want to mention the works of David N. Power, Kenneth Osborne and Louis-Marie Chauvet as examples for that movement. David Power understands sacraments as language events. He is interested in ritual action as it builds up the sacramental body and therein corporate memory, as well as senses of time and place. He stresses the verbal polyphony of the sounded word in music and various forms of proclamation and underscores that seeing-is-believing: attending to visual sensitivity is crucial for understanding sacramental action (cf. Power: 1999). In his book Sacraments in a Postmodern World, Kenan Osborne challenges metaphysical categories of essence as the foundation of ontotheology which have been critical for sacramental theology. Osborne contests the idea that sacraments exist beyond the event of an actual celebration. He questions the “hermeneutical ease” out of which transcendental-Thomistic and neo-scholastic approaches to sacramental theology operate. All […] are speaking about a ‘generic’ sacrament, an objective ‘essence’ of sacrament, that one finds replicated in the individual celebrations of sacraments, thereby constituting them as valid sacraments. It is this essentialism that is at the very nub of the problem: 1) Is sacrament something generic, essential, trans-temporal, and transhistorical, and the actual sacramental celebrations mere instances or cases of a given sacrament? 2) Or is sacrament only a reality when it takes place in a highly individualized existential moment of space and time with highly individualized subjectivities and their interfacing of divergent intentionalities, and are all generalized presentations on sacrament only abstract, unreal, generalized statements? (Osborne: 1999, 62)

Posing these questions Osborne opens the door for a constructive dialogue between the empirical study of ritual and liturgical theology. If sacramental essence disappears then religious experiences of ritual participants have to take a prominent role in the exploration of sacramental actions.

Embodied Knowing

47

Louis-Marie Chauvet stresses that “faith cannot be lived in any other way, including what is most spiritual in it, than in the mediation of the body, the body of a society, of a desire, of a tradition, of an institution, and so on. What is the most spiritual always takes place in the most corporeal” (Chauvet: 2001, XII). The sacraments convey that the word of God wants to enter our bodies; it enters in the very practice of rituals, such as the sacraments. Religious experience in ritual is thus inextricably connected with embodiment. All of these sacramental theologians make the effort to move away from an objectivist, meta-ontological framework toward the ritual experience itself. Entering into the conversation with these theologians by integrating impulses from ritual studies could enrich an important dialogue between empirical theology and systematic theology that still needs to be developed. I conclude: I see a variety of forces at work that might inspire us to explore the topic: Understanding Religious Experience in Ritual: – the realities of religious diversity with all its delight and challenges, – the critique of taxonomic frameworks and the emergence of postcolonial theorists who challenge the Eurocentric view on ritual practices as display of orientalism13 or exoticism, – the discovery of ritual participants in liturgical history, – and the aforementioned developments in sacramental theology.

2. Exploring the Expression of Religious Experience in the Context of Ritual 2.1 Observing the Observers: Dichotomous Constructions in Ritual Theory How can we develop open and flexible strategies of perception that assist us in exploring the diverse expressions of religious experience in ritual? I will draw on ritual theories and practice theory to get closer to an answer. Understanding the articulation of religious experience in ritual through participants and participant observers of ritual is a highly complex phenomenon. Anthropologists who have been engaged in ethnographic studies have reflected critically in the last 20 years on the role of the “observer” of ritual. Methodological reflections on participant observation have been articulated. In addition, there has been a critical debate about theory construction with regard to ritual which is very helpful for framing the question of how to describe and interpret religious experience in ritual. What have been the major assumptions researchers of ritual came up with? What have been the 13 The term orientalism was introduced into the debate by E. Said (1979).

48

Andrea Bieler

patterns of perception which guide the interpretation of data? Observing the observers by asking these questions is helpful as the work of ritual theorist Catherine Bell (1992; 1997) demonstrates. She has discovered an intriguing congruency in various schools of thought. In her sharp analysis on basic – sometimes hidden – assumptions of scholars who reflect on ritual practice she comes to the following conclusions: […] despite the variety of avowed methodological perspectives and ramifications, there is a surprising degree of consistency in the descriptions of ritual: ritual is a kind of critical juncture wherein some part of opposing social or cultural forces come together. Examples include the ritual integration of belief and behavior, tradition and change, order and chaos, the individual and the group, subjectivity and objectivity, nature and culture, the real and the imaginative ideal. Whether it is defined in terms of features of ‘enthusiasm’ (fostering groupism) or ‘formalism’ (fostering the repetition of the traditional), ritual is consistently depicted as a mechanistically, discrete and paradigmatic means of socio-cultural integration, appropriation, or transformation (Bell: 1992, 16).

Catherine Bell states that ritual theorists often follow an unconscious script of constructing ritual theory.14 The core of the theoretical construct is the distinction between thought and practice as two distinct qualities. Considering ritual practice as an integrative process of previously distinguished entities is a foundational assumption for almost all ritual theories as they came into being since the late 19th century. Such is the case for theories which state that the study of ritual elucidates the power and meaning of religious ideas.15 This is true for Durkheim and his followers who were most interested in studying rituals as a function of social integration, or as the means with which the social cosmos of a community is reordered and restored. Durkheim proceeded from the assumption that religions are composed from rites and beliefs. Beliefs contain representations of the sacred while rites are rules which prescribe how one has to relate to those sacred things. Rites are modes of action which embrace at their very core those representations as objects:

14 Bell assumes that the “emergence of the concept of ritual as an universal phenomenon that is substantively manifest in human nature, biology or culture appears to be the result of a successive layering of scholarly and popular attitudes. These attitudes range from an early modern ‘repudiation’ of ritual at home while finding it prevalent in so-called primitive societies, a subsequent ‘return’ to ritual that recognized it as an important social and cross-cultural phenomenon, followed by a tendency to ‘romanticize’ by both practitioners and theorists as a key mechanism for cultural and social transformation.” Catherine Bell’s analysis suggests that “these attitudes toward ritual are intrinsic to concerted intellectual efforts to deal with the ‘other’ in the various religious and cultural guises in which the ‘other’ has been perceived.” (Bell: 1997, 254). 15 See e.g. the works of Max Müller, Rudolf Otto, William James, James Frazer and others. They saw ritual as the secondary, emotionally dense expression of religious ideas.

Embodied Knowing

49

The first [beliefs] are states of opinion and consist of representations; the second [rites] are particular modes of action. Between these two categories of phenomena lies all that separates thinking from doing. (Durkheim: 1995, 34)

This pattern of distinguishing between thought and action can be discovered in other classics in ritual theory. Clifford Geertz’s analysis of the making of meaning through religious practices is grounded in the proposal to discriminate ethos and world view. He defines ethos as the conglomerate of moral inclinations, attitudes towards oneself and the world, the dispositions we carry that might lead to certain actions. Dispositions are expressed in moods and motivations. Thus, ethos describes the realm of expected and potential action. World views convey the cognitive sense of the real that people map out to make sense of their lived experience. World views are expressed in cosmologies and systems of thought. According to Geertz the power of rituals can be recognized in the symbolic fusion of both ethos and world view (Bell: 1992, 26; Geertz: 1973, 126–141). The mechanism of creating a thought-action dichotomy is followed by the conclusion that ritual is the means by which two distinct spheres such as thought and action, ethos and world view, structure and anti-structure can be reintegrated. The idea of ritual as the mechanism of integration can be discovered in the work of V. Turner who describes the climax of ritual activity as communitas, the ritual affirmation of communal unity in contrast to the frictions, constraints, and competitiveness of social life and organization. Rituals call for a creative anti-structure that is distinguished from the rigid maintenance of social orders, hierarchies, and traditional forms. However, when subsequently portrayed as embodying aspects of both structure and anti-structure, Turner describes rituals as those special, paradigmatic activities that mediate or orchestrate the necessary and opposing demands of both communitas and the formalized social order. Instead of having a well-defined notion of what ritual is, Catherine Bell adjures us to practice perception beyond the matrix of the thought-action divide. She invites us to move away from an essentialist understanding of what ritual is, and to engage in a more careful perception of what people are actually doing when they engage in ritual practices. This shift is extremely helpful for the analysis of religious experience in ritual because it creates the possibility to analyze loose bundles of activities in their own specificity rather than a priori pressing them into a scheme of perception (cf. Bieler: 2002, 19–21).

50

Andrea Bieler

2.2 Ritualization as a Fluid Concept of Practice Theory Bell introduces the term ritualization as a strategic practice: Viewed as practice, ritualization involves the very drawing, in and through the activity itself, of a privileged distinction between ways of acting, specifically between those acts being performed and those being contrasted, mimed or implicated somehow. That is, intrinsic to ritualization are strategies for differentiating itself – to various degrees and in various ways – from other ways of acting within any particular culture. At a basic level, ritualization is the production of this differentiation. At a more complex level, ritualization is a way of acting that specifically establishes a privileged contrast, differentiating itself as more important or powerful. (Bell: 1992, 91)

Bell notes that those strategies of privileging and distinguishing one set of activities from another can embrace a wide range of options. Rituals of holy eating or holy washing, or rituals of gift exchange might employ particular strategies to distinguish themselves from “ordinary” forms of eating, washing, and economic exchange. One strategy might be to reduce the amount of things that are consumed: only a sip of wine, only a small wafer, a mere sprinkling of water, etc. It could as well be the opposite: the lavish display of food, overeating, consuming more than one needs, etc. It is important to note that it is not the repetition per se, not the fixity or the formality that characterizes an action as ritualization. Ritual strategies can also enact the rupture with what is perceived as being traditional. They could as well employ improvisational performance (ibid., 90f). Strategies of ritualization are highly contextual. The lines of distinction that are drawn in the act of setting apart are fluid and unstable; they can only be understood in the context of actual communities. I propose to localize the articulation of religious experiences in acts of ritualization. The articulation of religious experiences is a practice which encompasses embodied knowing and the constant creation and embodiment of performance scripts. 2.3 The Articulation of Religious Experience as Practice 2.3.1 Embodied Knowing Thus, with regard to the empirical task I suggest not to start with categories which presuppose that there exists something like the common ground, an essence, or the nature of religious experience. I suggest understanding the articulation of religious experience in ritual as being embedded in ritualization. Michael Aune develops a framework which moves beyond the dichotomous notion of experience in ritual. He refers to experience as the indissoluble mixture of feeling and ideation out of which meaning-making processes emerge. By ideation or ideology he means “modes of feeling, valuing,

Embodied Knowing

51

perceiving and believing’ that persons receive from their culture and employ to make their world intelligible” (Aune: 1996, 150). He makes the important point that the notion of experience should not be based on the dichotomy between emotion and cognition; we should rather conceptualize experience as practical consciousness in which thoughts are felt and feeling is expressed as thought. This indissoluble mixture of feeling and thought holds at least four qualities: the representational, the constructive, the directive and the evocative. They represent constructs of how the world works; they create a sense of cultural homogeneity (that is, where we come from and who we are); they give moral directions; and finally they evoke feelings. These four qualities can potentially be conjured in a web of relationships that people perform by engaging in ritual. They foster the creation of “meanings” in interactive, fragmented and relational processes (ibid., 162).16 Since William James articulated his interest in religious experience primarily in its dense emotional qualities,17 scholars of religion have tried to develop concepts which take the cognitive as well as the affective dimension of religious experience as being in a fluid relation. For example, Gerd Haeffner suggests interpreting experience as the process in which a subject receives impressions thoughts, intuitions, feelings (Eindrücke) from what is perceived as reality which somehow shapes and enriches her or him. The ferment of experience is of passive character: it is about being overwhelmed, being hit or touched, or slowly formed and shaped by what we encounter. Stressing the receptive character of experience Haeffner then distinguishes three dimensions of experience: a) Experience as perceiving (vernehmen), b) experience as living through something (erleben), and c) experience as the development of knowledge that arises out of processes of perceiving and living through something (vernehmen und erleben) (cf. Haeffner: 2004, 16). In this third dimension we make bigger, more general16 Aune takes these four categories from the work of D’Andrae: 1981, 191. 17 William James radically privileged in his construction of “the nature” of religious experience emotions and behavior over thoughts and doctrine: “The truth is that in the metaphysical and religious sphere, articulate reasons are cogent for us only when our inarticulate feelings of reality have already been impressed in favor of the same conclusion. Then, indeed, our intuitions and our reason work together, and great world-ruling systems, like that of the Buddhist or the Catholic philosophy, may grow up. Our impulsive belief is here always what sets up the original body of truth, and our articulately verbalized philosophy is but its showy translation into formulas. The unreasoned and immediate assurance is the deep thing in us, the reasoned argument is but a surface exhibition. Instinct leads, intelligence does but follow.” (James: 2002/1902, 62). James was mainly interested in the “sublime”, the extraordinary experiences which he characterized as a special consciousness: desire, emotions and passions are the “urquell” of religion. Current discourse on the exploration of religious phenomena is, however, drawn especially to the dimension of lived religion in ordinary every day life. This is for instance emphasized in Failing/Heimbrock: 1998, 145–176.

52

Andrea Bieler

izing claims of what life is all about. This is the place where we verbalize how we encounter God in our lives, how we understand the nature of God, etc. This is the realm of practical consciousness. The first dimension of perceiving is about the reception of outward impulses that we obtain through our senses, such as sounds or visual impressions. Those are formed into experience when we give them closer attention: “Listen to this sound of the oboe!” “Did you see how the morning light broke through the stain glass windows?” We structure those sensations in particular ways, for example through metaphorical frameworks: “we heard angels singing tonight”. This way of expressing perception can also relate to the inner world of the psyche which is expressed through embodied metaphor: “I feel torn”; “I was moved by his sermon”.18 Utterances and sentences such as these verbalize the practice of setting apart in the act of ritualization: it is this special sound, this special light. Practices of setting apart can imply a wide range of qualities from subtle to drastic. The metaphorical sentence: “we heard angels singing tonight” might imply a more drastic distinction. This however can only be interpreted in the context in which this sentence is expressed. The second dimension, experience as living through something, stresses the emotional quality, or the strong imprint that certain events have on our lives: “If you knew what I have lived through, you would know about what kind of experiences I am talking”. And the third dimension refers to the knowledge that we constantly gain by engaging the first two facets. Experience is created through repetition: “I have heard this sound before; I had these feelings before”. These three dimensions are intertwined and in most cases they cannot be separated in the act of articulation of experience. I proceed from the assumption that experience in ritual also inhabits these three zones of a) perceiving and framing; b) the articulation of events that have a deeper impact on one’s own fragmentary sense of life and self; and c) the practical knowledge that arises from these processes. The articulation of religious experience through the framing of sensations, through the distinguishing of events, and through practical consciousness is lodged into the micro-cosmos of our bodies and how our bodies relate to the world. It is in, with, and through our bodies that we come to know who God is: this is where we receive a felt-sense of the holy. This claim can be supported from different scholarly perspectives. One of them

18 Mark Johnson and George Lakoff work on a theory of imagination and metaphor based on cognitive science that is radically grounded in bodily experience (cf. Johnson: 1987; Lakoff/ Johnson: 2003).

Embodied Knowing

53

is kinesthetic theory which explores the energy patterns that move us through the world. Marcia McFee writes: Our patterned neuromuscular physiology determines the rhythms and dynamics with which we literally ‘resonate’. These are our ‘primal patterns’. These patterns establish how we experience our deepest sense of presence of God, of relationship, and of our own agency. […] The Primal Patterns construct provides a lens through which to access the energy dynamics utilized in ritual actions and the formative power inherent in various dynamics: for example the catalyzing energy [‘thrust’] of a hymn which invigorates and sends us out into the world; or the ordered [‘shaping’] energy of a formalized ritual action; or the playful [‘swing’] energy of interactive participation such as an extended passing of the peace; or the contemplative [‘hanging’] energy of chanting or mantra-like prayer. Kinesiologists have found that a person’s pattern (called a ‘home pattern’), based on their particular neuromuscular recitation, affects the way they move in the world, perceive the world around them, and thus, behave in relationship to that world. They are patterns of ‘somatic integration’ and are a psychomotor connection between movement qualities and cognitive/affective processes of the brain. (McFee: 2005, 2–4)

McFee makes the compelling claim that those energy patterns which move our bodies shape our kinesthetic knowing of God at the same time.19 It is through the major forces of thrust, shape, hang and swing that religious experience as embodied knowing emerges. Understanding religious experience in ritual leads us consequently to the task of studying performance as it is given shape in the rise of energy patterns that hold senses of the divine. It is through the emerging felt-sense that embodied knowing finds ways through movement and language to express what I have called the pragmatic consciousness. Not only kinesiologists but also philosophers and linguists, such as Johnson and Lakoff, who are in conversation with cognitive science make the claim that our ways of reasoning and thus our processes of meaning making are deeply entrenched in our bodily experience. They assert that there exists no disembodied mind. The centrality of human embodiment directly influences what and how things can be meaningful for us, the way in which these meanings can be developed and articulated, the ways we are able to comprehend and reason about our experience, and the actions we take. Our reality is shaped by the patterns of our bodily movement, the contours of our spatial and temporal orientation, and the forms of our interaction with objects. (Johnson: 1987, XIX)

19 McFee defines energy patterns as follows: “‘Patterns of energy’ are recognized when a consistent force is repeated over time and […] is identified as a ‘dynamic’ (characterized by variation of accent dependent on variation in force’). This vocabulary will be used to communicate about the rhythm, tone, quality and character of ritual action.” (McFee: 2005, 14).

54

Andrea Bieler

Embodied meaning is embedded in imaginative structures which have two essential features: image schemata and metaphorical projections.20 Metaphorical projections derive from physical experience; they are the basis for conceptual and abstract thinking. The cognitive metaphors that emerge from those projections are structured through image schemes. Those schemes can be projected by metaphor onto abstract domains. Johnson asserts with regard to image schemata: An image schema is a recurring, dynamic pattern of our perceptual interactions and motor programs that gives coherence and structure to our experience. The VERTICALITY schema, for instance, emerges from our tendency to employ an UP-DOWN orientation in picking out meaningful structures out of our experience. We grasp this structure of verticality repeatedly in thousands of perceptions and activities every day, such as perceiving the tree, our felt sense of standing upright, the activity of climbing stairs, forming a mental image of a flagpole (Johnson: 1987, XIV).

Johnson argues that the verticality schema reflects our physical verticality experiences. Those schemata which are grounded in embodied experience are integral to our expression of religious experience as well. Ritual actions such as standing, kneeling, bowing, or prostrating which are accompanied by words, the pulse of prayers, and the lyrics and sounds of spoken and sung words engage physically and thus metaphorically the verticality scheme. Ritual theorists would add for example that the posture of kneeling does not just communicate a particular aspect of the human-divine relationship as one of human subordination; on the contrary, the practice of the very posture itself produces ritualized bodies onto which particular ways of knowing the divine are imprinted. Catherine Bell emphasizes that “the molding of the body within a highly structured environment does not simply express inner states. Rather, it primarily acts to restructure bodies in the very doing of the acts themselves” (Bell: 192, 100). This restructuring of bodies, however, should not be understood as a one-dimensional automatism in which kneeling creates the subordinated body. Kneeling might imprint a variety of habits onto the body; it might also create resistance to the equation of kneeling = subordination. Let me conclude: The introduced theories21 offer helpful lenses for developing a framework in which religious experience in ritual can be interpreted as embodied knowing. This embodied knowing emerges in practices of ritualization through kinesthetic processes which shape energy dynamics, 20 The second feature of imaginative structure is metaphorical projection. Cognitive metaphors derive from physical experience; they are the basis for conceptual and abstract thinking. Our experiences of being embodied are structured through the just mentioned image schemes. Those schemes can be projected by metaphor onto abstract domains. 21 I.e. the Primal Pattern theory and a metaphor theory that is based on cognitive science.

Embodied Knowing

55

rhythm, and flow as well as the creation of metaphors which arise out of bodily perception. 2.3.2 The Embodiment of Performance Scripts Setting Apart Studying energy patterns and cognitive metaphors as they are evoked in ritual practice deepens our understanding of how religious experience as embodied knowing is grounded in ritual practice. I claim that the articulation of religious experience is embedded in strategies of ritualization. Those strategies of setting apart certain events, practices, places, or times offer fertile ground for the qualification of experience in ritual as religious.22 They are embedded in performance scripts which ritual participants engage in. Studying the embodied self expression of ritual participants - the “performance scripts”23 with which a particular action is set apart from another in order to signify an experience as religious – necessitates that we “identify the ritual ‘frame’ or mode of interpreting the action or occasion, that sets it apart form ordinary social events […].”24 Those ritual frames are in many cases invented through the creation of sacred times and spaces. For example, consider the different ways with which Christians prepare for worship. Imagine how worshippers might cross the threshold of a church, especially the pace and energy with which bodies move: entering silently, moving straightforward with particular thrust energy, finding a place in a pew that offers a lot of space, bowing one’s head in prayer, closing the eyes, listening to the organ music that heavily fills the air, focusing on the altar in the front. Such actions are very different from bodies intermingling in the narthex, eyes searching for friends and strangers, voices filling the space with laughter, sighs, chatting,

22 In the introductory paragraph of this essay I emphasized potentiality, since I do not assume that there is an automatism at work which transforms each and every act of ritualization into a religious experience. 23 This term has emerged in conversations with Sharon Fennema, doctoral student at the GTU, who accesses Judith Butler’s performance theory for her project to develop a liturgical theology which is in conversation with queer theory. Those performance scripts contain embodied ways of knowing about what kind of a religious person we are. They assist in performing religious identity in ritual. 24 T. Nelson points to the fact that it can be a tricky task to interpret this drawing of lines: “For example, we learn from anthropologist Gilbert Lewis that the men of the Gnau tribe of New Guinea will sometimes spit into the air to attract the attention of a spirit. But they like males of the species everywhere it seems often just like to spit. How then is ‘ritual’ spitting differentiated from its ‘regular’ or its ‘nonritual’ forms? There must be some additional clues to signal that this action is imbued with spiritual expectation, and not just a matter of spittle expectoration.” (Nelson: 2005, 62). E. Goffman (1974) stressed the importance of analyzing the frames with which we organize our articulation of experience.

56

Andrea Bieler

and people hugging each other or holding hands while swing energy unfolds among the worship participants. And we can be sure there are many more ways how to do this. Bodies create sacred space by ritualizing how to enter or exit a place for worship. They mark the space as special by employing a wide range of strategies for how to be a religious person in a space set apart for worship. They perform a script that feels in many cases almost natural. This script is filled with anticipation, with images and metaphors of what it means to perform one’s religious identity in a particular way. The incorporated performance script might also imply resistance to once-learned strategies: for example, praying with eyes open instead of closed, sitting upright instead of bowing, etc. Strategies of setting apart can be expressed in dress codes. Consider how the liturgical leaders dress: do they wear robes which might refer to particular signs of clerical rank? Or is there a deliberate rejection of vestments and their accompanying signification of status in order to embody a habitus of egalitarianism? It is also significant how different members of the community dress. How are special days or times marked by wearing certain clothes, hats, colors, etc? In many places of worship in the United States, African-American Christians dress up as much as possible for the occasion of Sunday morning worship. Women wear spectacular hats and men put on there best and most festive suits to mark that this is the day of the LORD and not the time of oppression. Performance scripts around clothing can be an important means to establish a ritual frame. Another strategy of ritualization might be the invention of moments of heightened attention in the liturgy. There may be moments in which worship participants enter into the ecstasy of the holy dance, letting loose and beginning to shout. Or there may be moments when people kneel down and simultaneously erect their spine to see the elevated host. The usage of conventional utterances after a service such as “We really had church today” or “I felt the Spirit” can be interpreted as a strategy to express the felt-sense of the divine in worship. Moments of heightened attention are nurtured through the presentation of holy things, such as the consecrated bread and wine, water prepared for baptism, a table transformed into an altar, and a container as tabernacle. A Sense of Connection These few (there are definitely many more!) strategies of setting apart that I just laid out have the potential to embody religious experience in ritual. In these strategies ritual participants articulate, in often forceful but not necessarily conscious ways, their sense of the divine and of self in relation to the worshipping community. A sense of connection is created which embraces God and the worshipping community in acts of embodied knowing.

Embodied Knowing

57

Mary McGann stresses the aspect of embodied relationality with regard to the performance of music in worship: Music is a means by which persons come to a sense of empowerment to live in the world that is mediated ritually. Musical performance is a way in which the community actualizes itself as an ecclesial body, and affects the sense of redemptively reordered relationship that flows from the sources of power a community accesses in its worship. (McGann: 2002, 38)

This sense of connection and embodied relationality strives towards the articulation of metaphorical identities. In most cases ritual participants will not display doctrinal truth as religious experience but rather metaphorical identity which absorbs in rather loose ways theological constructions. Metaphorical identities have a relational foundation. They help the ritual participants to express who God is and how the divine presence affects their lives.25 The anthropologist J. Fernandez shows how metaphorical identities shape how people see their agency and what they are called to do in the world. Christians who understand themselves as God’s soldiers will employ metaphors of fighting the powers of evil, they might see life is a battlefield, and they await God’s victory. Such metaphors will show up in hymns, sermons and prayers. The selection and usage of these metaphors in worship will shape again how people see their lives and their struggles.26 Communal ritual is probably one of the most significant places in which people come to express not only who they are but also what their religious experience is. This leads me to my concluding remark: Understanding religious experience in ritual leads eventually into the nebulous zone of sensing atmospheres that arise from silence, from voices joining together in song, from sounds, light, and the experience of space. Understanding the articulation of religious experience in shared ritual practices points to the relational web of how individuals find themselves in community with others as sensual beings in ritual space, sound, light, and smell. A sense of connection arises as we become aware of what is between, among and above us.

25 The anthropologist J.W. Fernandez reflects on the connection between metaphoric assertions and performative consequences (cf. Fernandez: 1986, 20–23). 26 Depending on the context these metaphors can stimulate very different actions.

58

Andrea Bieler

References AUNE, M.B./MARINIS, V. (ed.) (1996), Religious and Social Ritual: Interdisciplinary Explorations, Albany, NY. AUNE, M.B. (1996), Ideology and Experience in Action, in: Religious and Social Ritual. Interdisciplinary Explorations, Albany, NY, 147–173. BELL, C. (1992), Ritual Theory. Ritual Practice, New York. BELL, C. (1997), Ritual. Perspectives and Dimensions, New York. BERGER, T. (1999), Women’s Ways of Worship: Gender Analysis and Liturgical History, Collegeville, MN. BIELER, A. (2002), You never look into another person’s eyes while passing the peace. Hybridität und Ritualisation als Kategorien einer kritischen Liturgiewissenschaft im multikulturellen Kontext, in: U. Schwab/E.Hauschildt (ed.), Praktische Theologie im 21. Jahrhundert, Köln, 9–21. BIELER, A. (2004a), “This is my Body – This is my Blood”: Inventing Authority in Liturgical Discourse and Practice, in: Yearbook of the European Society of Women in Theological Research, vol. 12, Leuven, 143–154. BIELER, A. (2004b), Eucharist as Gift Exchange. Liturgical Theology and Ritual Studies in Dialog, in: F. Crüsemann/M. Crüsemann/C. Janssen/R. Kessler/B. Wehn (ed.), Dem Tod nicht glauben. Sozialgeschichte der Bibel. Festschrift für Luise Schottroff zum 70. Geburtstag, Gütersloh, 127–140. BIELER, A. (2003), The Journeys of the Dead in Postcolonial Times: Hermeneutical Considerations from the Perspective of Ritual Studies, in: H. Kuhlmann/M. Leutsch/H. Schroeter-Wittke (ed.), Reisen. Fährten für eine Theologie unterwegs (INPUT 1), Münster, 236–242. BROWN, P.D. (2003), Paths to Prayer: Finding Your Own Way to the Presence of God. San Francisco. CHAUVET, L. (2001), The Sacraments: The Word of God at the Mercy of the Body. Collegeville, MN. D’ANDRAE, R.G. (1981), The Cultural Part of Cognition, in: Cognitive Science 5. DAVIDSON, J.D. (2002), Ritual Authority and Ecstatic Behavior. Mapping Strategies in the Ecstatic Experiences of Jarena Lee. Unpublished essay, Berkeley, CA. DURKHEIM, E. (1995), The Elementary Forms of Religious Life. Transl. and with an introduction by K.E. Fields, New York. FAILING, W.-E./HEIMBROCK, H.-G. (1998), Gelebte Religion wahrnehmen. Lebenswelt – Alltagskultur – Religionspraxis, Stuttgart/Berlin/Köln. FERNANDEZ, J.W. (1986), The Argument of Images and the Experience of Returning to the Whole, in: V. Turner/E.M. Bruner (ed.), The Anthropology of Experience, Urbana, 159–187. FERNANDEZ, J.W. (1986), Persuasions and Performances. The Play of Tropes in Culture, Bloomington. GEERTZ, C. (1973), The Interpretation of Cultures, New York. GENNEP, A. VAN (1960), The Rites of Passage. Transl. by M. Vizedom and G.L. Caffee, Chicago. GOFFMAN, E. (1974), Frame Analysis. An Essay on the Organization of Experience, New York. GUTMANN, H.-M. (1996), Symbole zwischen Macht und Spiel. Religionspädagogische und liturgische Untersuchungen zum ‘Opfer’, Göttingen. HAEFFNER, G. (2004), Erfahrung – Lebenserfahrung – religiöse Erfahrung. Versuch einer Begriffsklärung, in: F. Ricken (ed.), Religiöse Erfahrung. Ein interdisziplinärer Klärungsversuch, Stuttgart, 15–39. HALL, F.B. (ed.) (1978), Quaker Worship in North America: A Faith and Life Study Book, Richmond, IN. JAMES, W. (2002/1902), Varieties of Religious Experience. A Study in Human Nature. Centenary edition with a foreword by M. James and new introductions by E. Taylor and J. Carette, New York.

Embodied Knowing

59

JOHNSON, M. (1987), The Body in the Mind. The Bodily Basis of Meaning, Imagination, and Reason, Chicago. LAKOFF, G./M. JOHNSON (2003), Metaphors We Live By, Chicago. LEE, B. (2004), A Philosophical Anthropology of the Communal Person. A Postcolonial Feminist Critique of Confucian Communalism and Western Individualism in Korean Protestant Education, Ann Arbor. LEE, J. (1991/1836), Religious Experiences and Journal of Mrs. Jarena Lee. A Preachin’ Woman, Nashville. MAUSS, M. (1990), The Gift. The Form and Reason for Exchange in Archaic Societies. Transl. by W.D. Halls, New York. MCFEE, M. (2005), Primal Patterns. Ritual Dynamics, Ritual Resonance, Polyrhythmic Strategies and the Formation of Christian Disciples. Unpublished dissertation, Berkeley, CA. MCGANN, M.E. (2002), Exploring Music as Worship and Theology: Research in Liturgical Practice, Collegeville, MN. MCGANN, M.E. (2004), A Precious Fountain: Music in the Worship of an African American Catholic Community. Virgil Michel Series, Collegeville, MN. MICHEELSEN, A. (2002), “I Don’t Do Systems”. An Interview with Clifford Geertz, in: Method & Theory in the Study of Religion 14, 2–20. NELSON, T.J. (2005), Every Time I Feel the Spirit. Religious Experience and Ritual in an African American Church, New York. OSBORNE, K.B. (1999), Christian Sacraments in a Postmodern World. A Theology for the Third Millenium, Mahwah, NJ. OTTO, R. (1923), The Idea of the Holy, New York. POWER, D.N. (1999), Sacrament. The Language of God’s Giving, New York. RICKEN, F. (ed.) (2004), Religiöse Erfahrung. Ein interdisziplinärer Klärungsversuch, Stuttgart. ROSALDO, R. (1993), Culture & Truth. The Remaking of Social Analysis, Boston. SAID, E. (1979), Orientalism, New York. SENN, F. (2006), The People’s Work. A Social History of the Liturgy, Minneapolis, MN. SLOUGH, R.J. (1996), “Let Every Tongue by Art Refined, Mingle Its Softest Notes With Mine”. An Exploration of Hymn-Singing Events and Dimensions of Knowing, in: M.B. Aune/ V. de Marinis (ed.), Religious and Social Ritual: Interdisciplinary Explorations, Albany, NY, 175–208. TURNER, V. (1995), The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure, New York. WERBNER, P./MADOOD, T. ((1997), Debating Cultural Hybridity. Multicultural Identity and the Politics of Anti-Racism, Atlantic Highlands, NY. WHITE, S.J. (2003), A History of Women in Christian Worship, Cleveland. WOOD, JR, R.W. (ed.) (1995), Handbook of Religious Experience, Birmingham, AL. YOUNG, I.M. (1990), Justice and the Politics of Difference, Princeton.

Everyday Culture Research and the Challenges of Immediacy Theoretical and Methodological Approaches from the Perspective of Cultural Anthropology/Volkskunde1 TIMO HEIMERDINGER Johannes Gutenberg-University, Mainz, Germany

The subject of Cultural Anthropology/Volkskunde2 is the study of everyday life culture and the daily life performances of historically bound cultural patterns. As religion and everyday life are interwoven multifariously it may be interesting to point out some theoretical and methodological considerations about researching everyday life culture that have proven their usefulness in many studies and that might be fruitfully transferable to empirical research projects about religion. Even though everyday life is one of the central categories for studies in Cultural Anthropology/Volkskunde, it proves to be rather problematic in some aspects (cf. Lipp: 1993). Despite the difficulty to define it in a precise manner, this category is still estimated exactly for its flexibility as a very important and useful description of what cultural anthropologists are interested in: the complex and multifarious cultural relationships and systems of significance and reference man is living in. As background of the “normal daily life” the everyday life is both important and constitutive for human existence and difficult to study for the researcher. According to P. Bourdieu and his habitus concept, it is broadly agreed that everyday life in many aspects is driven by durable internalized cultural rules and patterns of behaviour that have to be seen both as group-specific and as historically developed as well (cf. Lipp: 1993, 25). Hence everyday 1 For linguistic support I would like to thank Mr. Dieter Heimerdinger and Mr. Thomas Schneider very much! 2 Up to the 1960s, the discipline had the common denominator “Volkskunde”. From 1970 onwards a variety of different names can be found: Volkskunde, Europäische Ethnologie (European Ethnology), Kulturanthropology (Cultural Anthropology), Empirische Kulturwissenschaft (Empirical Cultural Studies), Populäre Kulturen (Popular Cultures) and others, sometimes even in combination. At Mainz for example, where I am currently situated, the discipline is called “Kulturanthropologie/Volkskunde” at the moment. In spite of various thematic amplifications in the last decades, the thematic and regional priority of the discipline is still far reaching on the German-speaking areas of Europe. Therefore the major part of the publications cited in my contribution is German.

62

Timo Heimerdinger

life often is traditionally mediated, experienced, precognitive and built up by routines. This means that it is a form of interaction and world-perception that is mainly dominated by immediate experiences and performative patterns. In these structural aspects it is similar to many forms of religious life. Methodologically, research has to recover these constitutive factors of immediacy, unconsciousness, historicity and performativity. To enable itself for research on everyday life, Cultural Anthropology/Volkskunde was constrained during the last decades to deal with these aspects on a theoretical and a methodological level and to find answers to the question how to transform immediate practice into the mediated forms of research. This article will point out three principal theoretical aspects of everyday life culture and present some methodical requirements that derive as consequences from these general considerations. The first part of the text deals with the concept of everyday life culture in general. The second part discusses the relationship of discourse and practice in daily performed culture, whereas the third part will focus on cultural rules and their range limits on collective and individual levels. Concluding my contribution I will add some ideas about the problems of scientific (re)presentation of research results. Though with different settings of priorities, every aspect treats the general problem of the necessity to handle the immediacy of life “in the field” within the structures and rules of mediated research-designs.

1. Concomitance of the Non-Coeval:3 About the Historicity of the Presence Let us first take a look at the concept of every day life culture regarding the relevance and function of historical references within the current cultural process. One of the most influential and considerable debates that has occupied the discipline Volkskunde for more than thirty years since the early sixties is the so called Folklorismusdebatte (Moser: 1962; 1964; Bausinger: 1966; Köstlin: 1970; 1982; Bodemann: 1983; Bausinger: 1984; Welz: 1996). The debate, set off by H. Moser in 1962, started out from the observation that in many cultural contexts, e.g. traditional costume processions, carnival, usages or traditional handicraft-presentations, certain cultural elements were performed and presented as “old” but under the conditions of very modern and actual circumstances, like tourism or mass media reception. Moser stated that the “old”, even if practiced as in times of old (which was often not the case), was basically presented as “ancient” for a certain 3 “Gleichzeitigkeit des Ungleichzeitigen” (cf. Köstlin: 1973).

Everyday Culture Research

63

audience with ostentation and, thus, after functional and even phenomenological shifts has been totally re-contextualized. Moser called this “folk culture at second hand” (“Volkskultur aus zweiter Hand”, cf. Moser: 1962, 180). The problem in question was how to treat these different modes of “being old” from the perspective of culture analytical studies. In the beginning, the debate focused on efforts to identify cultural elements as “true” or “false”, as ”original” or “reproduced”. But very soon it became clear that this academic quest of authenticity within popular culture would not be a fruitful way to understand how cultures work. On the contrary, the debate gradually showed that even if authenticity in popular culture remains an important keyword (Bendix: 1997) the dichotomy of authentic vs. bogus culture as heuristic presumption for cultural studies is misleading. And what is more, it ignores one basic insight: Even though it cannot be denied that there has been a remarkable increase of these phenomena during the last 200 years, processes of modification, citation, transformation and adaption are not specifically modern or even post-modern effects. They are basic principles of cultural activities in general, the concomitance of the non-coeval (Gleichzeitigkeit des Ungleichzeitigen) is a characteristic feature, even a constitutive factor (cf. Köstlin: 1973). Therefore, the judgement of cultural elements whether they are “true” or “false” no longer seemed to make sense. In the course of the debate the focus changed, and gradually the concentration shifted to the question how and why these strange arrangements and mixtures of “old”, “new”, “original”, “reinvented” and “actual” were culturally built. It became increasingly clear that it is an inevitable part of the conditio humana to deal with various elements of a historically stratified culture at one time. This understanding of the different functional forms and performative levels of this current treatment of “the past” was strongly stimulated by British historian E. Hobsbawm’s formula of “The Invention of Tradition” that pointed out clearly, how cultures use the past to stabilize their present situation and to form regional, social, ethnic etc. identities (cf. Hobsbawm/ Ranger: 1983). In the end it has been realized that there is no possibilty to qualify or evaluate the various modes and forms of using the past culturally. It turned out to be of higher relevance to analyze and understand their function in every single case and to accept that handling of the past always remains a part of the cultural process, also including elements of former scientific studies that “suddenly” appear in popular culture (cf. Welz: 1996, 58–60). These mechanisms, desired or not, are part of the reflexive modern culture, and therefore have to be subjects of research interest as well. It can be seen as a significant characteristic of modernity, to legitimate current phenomena with historical narratives of reference (cf. Köstlin: 1995, 259, 263).

64

Timo Heimerdinger

K. Köstlin, who is a German “Volkskundler” who has been working in this area for many years, gives an example for the procedure, how currently relevant concepts of identity are drawn from the past.4 In 1989, the German region Baden-Wuerttemberg, especially the Protestant parts of it, celebrated the 250th birthday of the famous pietistic pastor Philipp Matthäus Hahn. With remarkable effort five exhibitions about Hahn were worked out. But the most remarkable thing was that these exhibitions did not so much center on Philipp Matthäus Hahn as a pastor, but on the personal character of Hahn and on his non-pastoral activities as a tinkerer (“Tüftler”) and a constructer of clockworks. He was celebrated as “father of high-tech” and thus a reasonable quasi obligatory connection has been constructed between the historical person of Hahn and the current Baden-Wuerttemberg known for its welldeveloped high-tech and car industry (DaimlerChrysler, Porsche etc.). This is only one example, how history can be used selectively to create or at least to support such strong cultural formations as “tradition” or “identity”. Without deepening this cultural pattern here, there remains the basic conceptional understanding that in questions of popular culture the presence is never separable from the past. This does not only mean that the current situation is a result of historical developments – this is trivial and no one would doubt it. It rather means that the past in many ways is actually a part of the presence: the past is still present. Man is unable to live without explicit or implicit reference to the past, which can be the personal, national, collective or individual past. Several studies showed clearly, how historical modes of nature-perception still determine for example actual patterns to perceive the Alps or the German forest (Tschofen: 1999; Lehmann: 1999). I can even go one more step ahead: The handling of the past is not only useful to stabilize certain types of identity-architecture, the reference to the past in some cases even seems to be a value for itself. In many fields of popular culture one can see how groups constitute their group-identity by declaring themselves as part of a wider context, therefore by being part of something. This context can be a regional, an ideological, a social, ethnic or a temporal one. Many cultural associations for example argue with their own tradition in which they stand as a basic element of their identity concept and from there they get relevant impulses concerning their self-image. The cultural pattern of “standing in a tradition” or “being part of something” is an essential one in many fields of popular culture and also in the field of religion. In this perspective it becomes quite clear that many cultural processes are only understandable if their historical development is considered as well, even the actual culture is related to the past in a complex way. Tradition is not only relevant on a collective, which means, 4 For the following cf. Köstlin: 1991, 53–56.

Everyday Culture Research

65

group-, nation-, or culture-wide level, but also on an individual one. Via biographical narratives and personal memories the past inevitably extends into the presence.5 These mechanisms are also relevant in specifically religious contexts on various levels: the tradition of faith and dogmas as mediated by church, the forms and the customs of religious life within family contexts, personal experiences and histories referring to religiousness and finally also the social, institutional and ritual characteristics of religiousness in single local congregations – in every case the handling and construction of “history” and “tradition” is of prominent interest. Are there as well procedures of inventing traditions that should be noticed? It is of high relevance to understand how and wherefore the reference to the past is used. The main methodical consequence from these considerations is that for research projects concerning the current situation, designs that combine a present-empirical with historical perspectives have to be found. The historical elements are so important and functionally relevant that it is inevitable to identify them and understand their formation and former meaning to understand – maybe in contrast – their actual meaning and relevance. But unlike some culture-historical studies, this is not aiming at judgement, whether history is used in a “correct” or “incorrect” manner, such a way of questioning would miss the chance to understand how and with which shifting implications history is culturally treated. However this treatment of history may be described, focusing on explicit citations of the “historical” in various identity-building discourses or looking at implicit effects and continuities for historically established modes of perception or acting patterns one central finding will be received: culture is not necessarily bound to epochs, but in contrast there will always be found a complex interwoven system of elements that refer to different temporal or functional origins, but are parts of the same presence. Present culture in this way disrupts the idea of a clear chronological order, but presents a form of time spanning immediacy. While this first aspect of the concomitance of the non-coeval has touched a general conceptional problem of how cultures work, the next two aspects concern problems of methodological access to cultural reality, but selfevident also starting from principal theoretical reflections.

5 A good example for this biographically driven presence of the past can be found in a study about inherited things by Langbein (2002b).

66

Timo Heimerdinger

2. Discourse-Practice-Theatricality: About the Limited Significance of Texts and the Force of Practice After the linguistic turn in humanities and the boom of the Foucault-inspired discourse-analysis in the last decades the culture-as-text-metaphor made a glorious career (cf. Bachmann-Medick: 2004). The writing culture debate, mainly inspired by C. Geertz and his semiotic conception of culture as “a system of inherited conceptions expressed in symbolic forms by means of which men communicate, perpetuate, and develop their knowledge about and attitudes toward life” (Geertz: 1973, 89) helped to come to the realization that in fact culture in many ways is language mediated and textually configured (especially in the modern north-western hemisphere), so that the analyses of texts can actually lead me to central cultural mechanisms. It is undisputable that the analysis of texts as cultural manifestations and therefore as sources is essential for cultural studies. Especially in historical research texts and papers are mostly the only available sources and the analysis with discourse-analytical and content-analytical methods can bring out valuable and stimulating results, especially about the corresponding effective cultural rules and norms and about their historical development. But there often remains a certain insecurity how close these forms of source-interpretation can actually lead the researcher to the level of practiced everyday life in these times. However, these mainly text-based studies are without practicable alternatives. Looking at the present cultural situation, also here lots of texts, pictures and other media-products that are easily available: the internet for example generates a huge quantity of actual primary sources that seem worthy and significant for up-to-date cultural analyses (cf. Hengartner: 2001). Obviously the mass media influences on daily life contexts have become much more influential and dominant as some decades before. But as the culture-as-text-paradigm has always been a model for interpretation and has of course always implied the possibility of an empirical approach to culture by generating data, the facile availability of textual material, combined with one as a silver bullet promoted cultureas-text metaphor in some areas slightly seems to have led to the misinterpretation of “culture as text” as a “text-as-culture” concept. Several reasons may be therefore responsible. First of all a pragmatic one: texts are often the most easily available types of sources, and a mainly language-based concept of culture eases to justify text-based studies. Secondly, this concept of culture for many mainly text-orientated disciplines as for example the various literary studies opened the possibility to define themselves easily as cultural studies with a general claim of competence. But apart from this more or less political aspect, there is one simple obvious principal objection against such an exclusively text-based approach to

Everyday Culture Research

67

everyday life culture: everyday life is lived and not written. The practice of the daily cultural performance generates a gap between the culturally constitutive texts and the “real life”. This gap has methodologically been mentioned, if the researcher wants to make sure not turning himself into a bookman or geek. For ethnographical studies it is absolutely not sufficient to concentrate on written, printed or published material, even if the mass and the availability may be seductive, because paper doesn’t blush. Everyday life is realized by acting bodily, not only by coding/decoding the world and other semiotic operations. Mainly powered by the ethnological experience, also in the German Volkskunde the importance of the acing-related dimension of culture has been realized. In the tradition of van Genneps rites de passage or Turners liminality-concept it has clearly been seen that relevant aspects of everyday life are realized by collective actions and ritual proceedings: not only the religious rituals, but also events of sociability, group-constitution within youth-culture, family-life and working-life as well can be analyzed under the paradigm of rituality as well. But also in other disciplines there seemed to grow a certain discomfort about the exclusivity with which a semiotic concept of culture under the text-paradigm was handled. The continued speech of various “turns” that reportedly happened and happen in humanities is a lively expression of the consciousness that the text-model alone for itself can not be sufficient to describe cultural activities completely. After the linguistic turn also the interpretive, performative, reflexive, literary, postcolonial, translational, spatial, theatrical and the iconic turn have been diagnosed (cf. Bachmann-Medick: 2006). Among the various models, one in the last years has been the subject of a very lively and fruitful interdisciplinary discussion: the model of theatricality (cf. Fischer-Lichte: 1995a; 1995b; 2004). In a DFG (Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft) priority program the concept of theatricality has been developed and discussed as a cultural model in humanities, not only in theatre studies but also in everyday culture research (cf. Heimerdinger: 2005). Even if it is impossible to report here the whole discussion in its various disciplinary specifications it is worth to have a look on the central ideas and terms of the concept and to see what is the heuristic profit available from using this model. The central idea is to take the theatrical situation that someone impersonates a role and presents this role in front of an audience as a metaphor for culture in general.6 Starting from this idea and understanding theatricality not only in a narrow theatre-specific, but in a wider cultural sense, the theatrical situation can be split up into four aspects 6 One of the still most common definitions of theatre is from E. Bentley: “The theatrical situation, reduced to a minimum, is that A impersonates B while C looks on” (Bentley: 1966, 150).

68

Timo Heimerdinger

as analytical categories, that accentuate different aspects of the cultural process-needless to say that they are dialectically related to each other and only theoretically separable. The first of these aspects is the activity of staging that takes place behind the curtain. This aspect corresponds with the job of the director and also somehow of the author: someone has to plan the whole thing, to choose the right words, costumes, requisites and tools for expression and has to calculate the impressions and the effects of the play to the audience. The aspect of staging refers to the semiotic aspect of culture that implicates the generation of meaning and that is analyzable by studying texts and other intellectual or cognitively accessible material. To research the aspect of staging, all varieties of discourse analysis are suitable methods. Dealing with the dimension of staging in the cultural analyses, means to de- and re-construct the semiotic architecture of cultural phenomena, to exemplify the intertextuality of various cultural elements and to interpret culture within the paradigm of an intentional communication process (cf. Fischer-Lichte: 2004, 14). But as shown above, culture consists not only of thoughts, texts and meaning – there are also real human beings who have to live their lives and thus to embody the system of cultural meaning. Therefore the second aspect of theatricality is corporality. As a play is not realizable in an empty space, but is always and necessarily bound to specific actors with their specific personal and physical characteristics (there is not an abstract “Hamlet” on the stage but always a certain individual Hamlet, played by a certain person) also culture is body-bound. Human life is only thinkable in connection with human bodies and – in a wider sense – with the material world. Treating this physical dimension of culture, one has to distinguish two forms. Rather close to the metaphor of “theatre”, there is the procedure of embodiment, which means, as described above, that a person impersonates a certain concept as, for example, the culturally configured role of a doctor or a pastor. Within this process a person brings an abstract conception of a certain role to a concrete reality, using his distinctive and individual body and “lending” his physical conditions to form this single concrete exemplar, for example, of a doctor. While in this case the body acts as a vehicle to concrete a certain concept, the other form of culturally relevant corporality can be found in the fact that the body itself becomes an essential part of cultural ideas and becomes therefore not only a “container” but part of the “content”. In some cases culture becomes a corporal reality and is not separable from this any more. Scharfe cites a saying from Ludwig Wittgenstein: “To kneel down doesn’t assist praying, but man kneels down anyhow.”7 In this context Scharfe speaks of the culture as a second nature of 7 “Nicht das Knien hilft beim Beten, aber man kniet.” (Scharfe: 2001, 59f).

Everyday Culture Research

69

man that emerges from flesh and blood. He articulates bodily acting as cultural acting and identifies culture as “alloyed” with the body: die mit dem Körper legierte Kultur; das (wie man so sagt:) in Fleisch und Blut übergegangene; die in Fleisch und Blut übergegangene Kultur und die aus Fleisch und Blut wieder herausspringende Kultur – als Körpertun als kulturelles Tun. (Scharfe: 2001, 61)

Both varieties of the physical dimension of culture – embodiment and bodily alloyed culture – refer to the human body as an indispensable factor of cultural reality which generates a surplus value to the semiotic dimension. This material and sensual dimension of culture is only sensually perceptible and at the same moment absolutely essential for human life experience. It is not possible to say something sensible about human life while ignoring the corporal dimension which is not completely analyzable by semiotic structures. The third aspect of theatricality is perception: there always has to be an audience to generate a theatrical situation, even if it consists only of one single person. Only if there is an audience, there is a theatrical situation. The whole play is constructed and designed for this audience, a certain effect is calculated – if it happens or not. Transformed to the field of culture it can also be said that cultural activities mostly happen in the context of other persons who constitute a type of audience. The forms of interaction and social life called culture are situated in collective formations that establish a type of performance. Performance is the fourth aspect of theatricality and signifies the situation “when it happens”. It is the execution of what has been planned, thought out and rehearsed. The aspect of performance implies an element of emergence, because theory is grey, but practice is colourful and has its own value that surpasses every form of theoretical consideration. As pointed out above, the concept of rituality that has been applied fruitfully in cultural anthropology points out exactly the following aspect: there are cultural phenomena such as, for example, initiation rites that simply do not exist without performative execution. On an even more general level following M. de Certeau (1980), the acting of the individuals has to be appreciated as an own dimension of cultural reality that can be surprising, creative, oppositional or self-willed – and not only conform to the tracks of discursively or otherwise regulated established rules of the cultural game. With its four dimensions of staging, corporality, perception and performance, theatricality became a well known heuristic concept that inspired a number of studies within a wide range of humanities (cf. Fischer-Lichte: 2004). The discussion about the theatricality of culture directed the attention to the evident point that the semiotic production of meaning and the playing of a role is only one aspect of the cultural process among others. There is also the impact of the performative practice, the sensual weight of

70

Timo Heimerdinger

the acting bodies and all the effects of the presence of a however conditioned audience. It is clear that culture is not theatre, but it can fruitfully be described as theatrical. The model of theatricality can neither explain culture nor give answers to the questions of interpretation, nor describe it completely. But keeping the four aspects in mind can be helpful to keep present that culture is a complex system that acts on different levels, and that these levels are interwoven and are interdependently connected. The model of theatricality, taken as heuristic tool, can lead the researcher through the complex cultural reality and can be a strong reminder for complex, multi-sided research designs. And moreover “theatricality” as a model demands acknowledging the inseparability of certain cultural aspects from others. This makes clear that the production of meaning is unthinkable without the handling of bodies and vice versa. In this way “theatricality” refers to a deeply inherent structure of immediacy within the system of culture. “Culture” means the whole correlation of the various dimensions. It is also clear that doing research projects is often, maybe even always, dominated by procedures of (analytical) separation, isolation or distinction. This is necessary to identify certain factors, to measure them precisely and to describe and appreciate them separately. The academic approach to reality very often is not a holistic but an analytic one. This fact itself does not have to be criticised, but it has to be distinctive that the imagination of “reality” that comes out of this approach has necessarily to be fragmentary. The model of theatricality can be a helpful warning, that is absolutely not sufficient to analyze the various dimensions of culture separately but that is important to correlate them again after the analytical work. In this perspective theatricality can help to research the immediacy of everyday life. It becomes clear that putting all this together culture, as a system of meaning and the aspects of practice, can only be studied in a well-balanced methodological combination. The discourse-analytical grasp by the analysis of texts, documents and monuments, and the empirical grasp in the full broadness and creativity of qualitative and quantitative methods have to be brought, tightly combined, to a close application. From the perspective of cultural anthropology especially the qualitative hermeneutic methods and therein particularly the method of participant observation (cf. Jorgensen: 1989) promise to generate further leading results if the researcher dares to walk the talk and to practice the research process as a highly involving and personally touching activity. Rolf Lindner states about the essence of field research that it has to become a total experience including the ideal of the researcher’s “total immersion” into the context of his subject (cf. Lindner: 2003, 186). The immediacy of the performed culture has methodologically to be answered by a reflected immediacy of the researcher’s access to the

Everyday Culture Research

71

field. The model of theatricality can therefore be helpful, and looking at religious life under this theatrical perspective, already at the first glance, a lot of accordances or contact points can be identified: Obviously the factor of role play is an important element within the religious practice thinking of what is happening during the religious service.8 The system of presentation, incorporation and watching itself is frequently changing. There are elements of sensual experiences (singing), performative acts (the Lord’s Supper) and other theatrically understandable ones which are tightly (with each other) interwoven forms that could be analyzed productively.

3. Collective and Individual: About Cultural Rules and their Range Limits The next aspect is directly connected with the previous argument and continues the discourse of the gap between texts and practice on another level. There is a second gap: the gap between general, culturally established rules and individual acquirements or individual implementation of these rules which are often connected with specific transformations. This can be studied at one simple example: “Christmas” is, among other aspects, correctly describable as a strong, tradition-mediated and culturally deeply anchored collective pattern of which exists a collective, broadly conform conception. With its specification as a family celebration with an accent on making presents to children, Christmas, under cultural aspects, is clearly connectable with the traditions and particularities of the 19th century bourgeoisian culture. The dominant values here are family-life, harmony and sociability (cf. Weber-Kellermann: 1974, 223–243). But taking a closer empirically based look not only at the collective Christmas concept, but on real Christmas celebrations, a broad variety of different forms, customs, procedures and even meanings that are connected with this event can easily be observed. Families will surely be found who celebrate Christmas in the above mentioned manner. But there will also be some more empirically observable Christmas versions. In many contexts Christmas is celebrated under specific conditions with specific priorities, customs and rules typical of specific groups. In extreme examples even such Christmas versions can be found where the general concept is turned upside down and in the centre of the event there is no harmony and sociability but loneliness and desperation (cf. Langbein: 2002a). 8 For role playing as cultural activity E. Goffmans (1959) classical study is still inspirational: The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life.

72

Timo Heimerdinger

If I want to study culture, I have to focus general rules and concepts but I also have to look at the variety of practical forms and especially to register the difference between both. There is a gap between the collective pattern of culture – and culture as well as religion is at first necessarily a collective phenomenon – and the individual, situational and empirically observable forms of culture. This principal open gaping of well-imagined and realized everyday life is an observation that thwarts every form of methodical restraint. Theoretically, it is based on what U. Eco calls the “contradictory format of the Global Semantic Space” (Eco: 1976, 316). The contradictoriness and ambiguousness of the world are fundamental facts of its constitution. The task is to accept initially this poly-valence of culture as a matter of principal and then to integrate it systematically into research designs. This means to understand the diverging, even paradoxical forms of cultural practice not as matters of cultural inaccurateness which have to be accepted with a shrug, but to esteem them as characteristics of human culture, whereupon research has to ask specifically. Ambiguousness and ambivalence have to be basic elements of the heuristic approach. A mode of interpretation that accepts ambiguity and equivocality as normal is needed – giving up the illusion that culture or human behaviour could be described “exactly” or free from contradictions. In contrast: the semantic iridescence and the functional plurality are significant for human beings in general. This demands methodical creativity from the researcher. First of all, it requires the openness or even the expectation to find this phenomenon of cultural iridescence and secondly the intention to elaborate this concept of culture in the research studies explicitely. Such a culture-relativistic approach requires a strictly reflexive attitude on the part of the researcher, who has to be able both to look at familiar phenomena out of a certain and necessary distance as well as to reckon with unexspected impressions. Otherwise it will be impossible for the researcher to study a cultural system of which he himself is a part of. Within the discipline Volkskunde there is a broad and strong tradition of studies about popular religiousness (“Volksfrömmigkeit”; cf. Daxelmüller: 2001). For years there has been a debate how this research should be accentuated. One position emphasizes that it should and could be given much more attention to the individual dimension oft religious life than in the past9 – using for example autobiographical material (cf. Daxelmüller: 2001, 508; Mohrmann: 1997) –, the other position argues that Volkskunde should 9 Evaluating hitherto existing research activities, one has to state that Volkskunde/Cultural Anthropology has been mainly focussed on motive-historical studies, and questions of traditions, rites and usages (cf. Hartinger: 1992), even if some recent studies try to enter the field of religious practice (to give only a few examples – Aka: 2002; Hüwelmeier: 2004; Wiebel-Fanderl: 2001).

Everyday Culture Research

73

concentrate on the perspective of religion as a cultural, which in this case especially means a collective, phenomenon, and that therefore subjective religiousness is not an issue, Volkskunde could competently deal with (cf. Scharfe: 1997; 2004). Not having the intention to continue this debate, it seems to me to be obvious that an empirical approach to religion would have to consider the individual dimension of cultural acquirement necessarily. The dichotomies of power and resistance, authority and autonomy can be brought to insight as relevant dimensions of human life only in a dialectic perspective considering both religion as a collective system of rules, norms, customs, meanings, rituals etc. as well as the modes of personal acquirement of this system.

4. Conclusion and the Problem of Representation Putting the three outlined aspects together it can be said that the cultural anthropological experience first of all teaches one insight: everyday culture is a complex matter that has to be studied within several heuristic dichotomies: past and presence, text and practice, mind and body, collective system and individual case. Of high importance is the understanding that each of these antagonistic factors is not thinkable for its own. They refer to each other and only within this oscillating interaction they develop their impact. Only within these dialectically accessible fields can culture be studied in its full richness and multifariousness including the phenomenon of tradition and change. In the consequent connection of theoretical, discourse analytical and field entering empirical, the researcher’s subject involving, approach the functional dimensions of culture for the people who realize it, can become understandable. Apart from the question how these requirements methodologically could be taken into account practically, wherefore I tried to give some suggestions, there still remains one problem at the end of every research project: If culture (and religion as well) is so much multilayered, also implying non-verbal, corporal, haptic and other sensual aspects, therefore going beyond the scope of language and rationality, how the academically accepted presentation of the research results can adequately be realized? In Cultural Anthropology/Volkskunde various efforts have been made to treat this problem: One of the found solutions is to present a rather high quantity of the primary material (i.e. interview material) to transport not only the content but also the “flavour” and whole context of the situation and to make it at least better accessible for the reader. Another solution is trying to find other creative and surprising forms to present results: pictures,

74

Timo Heimerdinger

films, graphics or auditory documents can be helpful instruments to mediate certain insights also in the academic field – even if they may sometimes tend to turn a little bit from science to art because of their aesthetic shape.10 Whatever effort has been taken to represent everyday life in academic formats, it necessarily has to remain fragmentary and therefore has to be marked as temporary and incomplete in any case.

References AKA, C. (2002), “Unfallkreuze am Straßenrand – Orte der Trauer und der Suche nach Sinn”, Volkskunde in Rheinland Pfalz. Informationen der Gesellschaft für Volkskunde in RheinlandPfalz e.V. 17, 43–58. AKA, C. (2003), Nicht nur sonntags. Vom Leben mit dem Glauben 1880–1960, Alltagsgeschichte in Bildern, vol. 1, Münster-Hiltrup. BACHMANN-MEDICK, D. (2004), Kultur als Text. Die anthropologische Wende in der Literaturwissenschaft, Tübingen. BACHMANN-MEDICK, D. (2006), Cultural Turns. Neuorientierungen in den Kulturwissenschaften, Reinbek bei Hamburg. BAUSINGER, H. (1966), Zur Kritik der Folklorismuskritik, in: H. Bausinger (ed.), Populus Revisus, Tübingen, 61–75. BAUSINGER, H. (1984), Folklorismus, in: R.W. Brednich (ed.), Enzyklopädie des Märchens, Berlin, 1405–1410. BENDIX, R. (1997), In Search of Authenticity: The Formation of Folklore Studies, Madison. BENTLEY, E. (1966), The Life of the Drama, London. BODEMANN, U. (1983), Folklorismus – Ein Modellentwurf, Zeitschrift für Volkskunde 78, 101–110. DE CERTEAU, M. (1980), Arts de faire, Paris. DAXELMÜLLER, C. (2001), Volksfrömmigkeit, in: R.W. Brednich (ed.), Grundriss der Volkskunde, Berlin, 491–513. ECO, U. (1976), A Theory of Semiotics, Bloomington. FISCHER-LICHTE, E. (1995a), From Theatre to Theatricality. How to Construct Reality, Theatre Research International 20, 97–105. FISCHER-LICHTE, E. (1995b), Theatricality. A Key Concept in Theatre and Cultural Studies, Theatre Research International 20, 85–89. FISCHER-LICHTE, E. (2004), Einleitung. Theatralität als kulturelles Modell, Theatralität als Modell in den Kulturwissenschaften, in: E. Fischer-Lichte (ed.), Tübingen/Basel, 7–26. GEERTZ, C. (1973), The Interpretation of Cultures. Selected Essays, New York. GOFFMAN, E. (1959), The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life, New York. HARTINGER, W. (1992), Religion und Brauch, Darmstadt. HEIMERDINGER, T. (2005), Theatralität als heuristisches Modell für die Volkskunde, in: B. Binder/ S. Göttsch/W. Kaschuba/K. Vanja (ed.), Ort. Arbeit. Körper. Ethnografie Europäischer Modernen. 34. Kongress der Deutschen Gesellschaft für Volkskunde (Berlin 2003), Münster et al., 513–524. HENGARTNER, T. (2001), Volkskundliches Forschen im, mit dem und über das Internet. In: S. Göttsch/A. Lehmann (ed.), Methoden der Volkskunde. Positionen, Quellen, Arbeitsweisen der Europäischen Ethnologie, Berlin, 187–211. 10 A nice example for presenting some aspects of religion within a semi-academic publication using visual material is Aka: 2003.

Everyday Culture Research

75

HOBSBAWM, E./RANGER, T. (ed.) (1983), The Invention of Tradition, Cambridge. HÜWELMEIER, G. (2004), Närrinnen Gottes. Lebenswelten von Ordensfrauen, Münster et al. JORGENSEN, D.L. (1989), Participant Observation. A Methodology for Human Studies, Newbury Park, CA, et al. KÖSTLIN, K. (1970), Folklorismus und Ben Akiba, Rheinisches Jahrbuch für Volkskunde 20, 234–256. KÖSTLIN, K. (1973), Relikte – die Gleichzeitigkeit des Ungleichzeitigen, Kieler Blätter zur Volkskunde 5, 135–159 KÖSTLIN, K. (1982), Folklorismus als Therapie? Volkskultur als Therapie?, in: E. Hörandner/ H. Lunzer, Folklorismus, Neusiedl/See: Verein Volkskultur am Neusiedlersee, 128–147. KÖSTLIN, K. (1991), Folklore, Folklorismus und Modernisierung, Schweizerisches Archiv für Volkskunde 87, 46–66. KÖSTLIN, K. (1995), Lust aufs Ganze. Die gedeutete Moderne oder die Moderne als Deutung. Volkskulturforschung in der Moderne, Österreichische Zeitschrift für Volkskunde 98, 255–275. LANGBEIN, U. (2002a), Eine ganz ‘normale’ Familie? Unliebsame Fragen an eine geliebte Ordnung, Kuckuck. Notizen zur Alltagskultur 17, 4–10. LANGBEIN, U. (2002b), Geerbte Dinge. Soziale Praxis und symbolische Bedeutung des Erben, Köln. LEHMANN, A. (1999), Von Menschen und Bäumen. Die Deutschen und ihr Wald, Reinbek bei Hamburg. LINDNER, R. (2003), Vom Wesen der Kulturanalyse, Zeitschrift für Volkskunde 99, 177–188. LIPP, C. (1993), Alltagskulturforschung im Grenzbereich von Volkskunde, Soziologie und Geschichte. Aufstieg und Niedergang eines interdisziplinären Forschungskonzeptes, Zeitschrift für Volkskunde 89, 1–33. MOHRMANN, R.E. (ed.) (1997), Individuum und Frömmigkeit. Volkskundliche Studien zum 19. und 20. Jahrhundert, Münster et al. MOSER, H. (1962), Vom Folklorismus in unserer Zeit, Zeitschrift für Volkskunde 58, 177–209. MOSER, H. (1964), Der Folklorismus als Forschungsproblem der Volkskunde, in: Hessische Blätter für Volkskunde 55, 9–57. SCHARFE, M. (1997), Soll und kann die Erforschung subjektiver Frömmigkeit das Ziel volkskundlich-kulturwissenschaftlicher Tätigkeit sein?, in: R.E. Mohrmann (ed.), Individuum und Frömmigkeit. Volkskundliche Studien zum 19. und 20. Jahrhundert, Münster et al., 145–151. SCHARFE, M. (2001), Nicht das Knien hilft beim Beten, aber man kniet. Überlegungen zur volkskundlichen Fachidentität, in: G.M. König/G. Korff (ed.), Volkskunde '00. Hochschulreform und Fachidentität. Hochschultagung der Deutschen Gesellschaft für Volkskunde Tübingen, 9.–11. November 2000, Tübingen, 59–69. SCHARFE, M. (2004), Über die Religion. Glaube und Zweifel in der Volkskultur, Köln/Weimar. TSCHOFEN, B. (1999), Berg. Kultur. Moderne. Volkskundliches aus den Alpen, Wien. WEBER-KELLERMANN, I. (1974), Die deutsche Familie. Versuch einer Sozialgeschichte, Frankfurt/Main. WELZ, G. (1996), Folklorismus und der ‘Rücklauf volkskundlichen Wissens’, in: G. Welz, Inszenierungen kultureller Vielfalt: Frankfurt/Main/New York/Berlin, 51–60. WIEBEL-FANDERL, O. (2001), Leben vom Tod eines anderen. Ein Beitrag zur Balanceleistung der Religion in der gegenwärtigen Heilkultur, in: M. Simon/M. Kania-Schütz (ed.), Auf der Suche nach Heil und Heilung. Religiöse Aspekte der medikalen Alltagskultur, Volkskunde in Sachsen 10/11, Dresden, 221–235.

2 Reconstructing the Rationale of the Empirical in Theology Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research A Cognitive Approach JOHANNES A. VAN DER VEN Radboud University Nijmegen, The Netherlands

If one were to have advocated comparative studies in the human sciences, especially science of religion, at a scientific congress ten years ago, one would have run a real risk of a speedy or slightly slower scientific suicide. Anything that smacked of looking for common characteristics, corresponding regularities, general mechanisms, structures and processes, let alone universal rules and laws, was dismissed as an inappropriate, anachronistic offering to the god of modernity. That was the heyday of postmodernism. Comparative methods were written off as imperialistic, colonialist, evolutionist and anti-contextual, and in the case of religion, as religiously biased, proselytising and ideological. At the start of the 21st century, however, the tide appears to be turning. That does not imply an uncritical return to the (ostensibly) a-theoretical comparative research in the history of religions, nor to the (ostensibly) a-historical and a-contextual patterns in the comparative religion of yore, however highly we laud the work of M. Eliade and his school for its grand vision and approach (Smith: 2004, 61–100). Indeed, the objections to comparative study of religion are not groundless and call for serious reflection. But that is not the same as dismissing comparative research out of hand. To put it boldly, all research is implicitly or explicitly comparative. There is always some background, frame of reference, model, yardstick or criterion that is used to describe the phenomenon under investigation, categorise or classify it, place it in a taxonomy, interpret and evaluate it. Research is never a-conceptual or a-theoretical, a-cultural or a-contextual, hence it can never be neutral or value-free. There are always criteria by which the research object is measured. Hence comparative research may be regarded as an explication of that which characterises all research, from (comparative)

78

Johannes A. van der Ven

biology and (comparative) psychology to (comparative) literary theory: the researcher seeks to describe and explain differences and similarities between phenomena and the patterns within these. Nonetheless the objections levelled at comparative research in the past compel us to examine the principle of comparativism reflectively – hence the title of this article. What is meant by the second term in the title, “religious research”? I take it to mean the development of theories and investigations in the field of religions, including their theology (or, as in the case of Buddhism: philosophy). In so doing I am consciously breaking with the partitioning of the field that has prevailed at universities ever since the emergence of science of religion in the mid-19th century, whereby theology was confined exclusively to the Christian religion and science of religion focused on nonChristian religions (cf. Platvoet: 2002).1 In the approach I am advocating Christianity is a religion alongside other religions, and theology is a collective noun for their various theologies, such as Judaic, Christian, Islamic, Hindu theology or Buddhist philosophy. Nowadays one can discern two distinct approaches to religious research: a narrow and a broader one. The first one focuses exclusively on the acquisition of knowledge about religions in accordance with the goal of all scientific work, which is the production of new knowledge. The other likewise aims at producing knowledge about religions, but in addition it seeks to help clarify and promote the contribution of these religions to “a good life” for individuals and communities in the societies of which the religions form a part. According to this approach scholars of religion not only have the role of researchers in the narrow sense, accountable only in their own scientific terms, but also that of public intellectuals, accountable not only in terms of their science but also to three forums: academia, society and the religion or religions they study (Tracy: 1986).2 In this article I adopt the second, broader approach, the dominant one in the American Academy of Religion (Wiebe: 2002). 1 One reason is that, as a result of increasing migration and globalisation, there are no longer any isolated, independent cultures and religions such as “the” Christian religion and “the” nonChristian religions – if they ever existed at all. The traditional partitioning of the field between theology and science of religion no longer fits the mosaic of group and individualised forms of religion, the elements of which are derived from various religious traditions, classical and nonclassical, ancient and recent. We are living in an age of moving cultures and moving religions (Janssen: 1988; Hermans/Kempen: 1998). There are no “pure” religions anymore, if there have ever been, but only “interpenetrating religions” (Nicholson: 2005). 2 This threefold accountability resembles the functions a Humboldt type of university aims at, whereby the communicative unity between these functions is to be taken care of (Habermas: 2003, 78–104; cf. Bourdieu: 2004). To this I like to add that scholars of religion are scientifically accountable for the statements about the religions they study, but they are not responsible for these religions themselves.

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

79

Finally the title mentions a cognitive approach. By this I mean that in this article I draw on theoretical insights and empirical findings of the cognitive paradigm, which is the orientation of a growing number of academic disciplines, from linguistics, psychology, sociology, anthropology, education and law to philosophy (cognitive philosophy). It also influences the study of religion (cognitive science of religion). In all science, including comparative science, one can only arrive at new knowledge if one embraces a particular paradigm and structures one’s research accordingly. From the entire arsenal of phenomenological, hermeneutic, linguistic, semiotic, cultural, narrative and cognitive paradigms used to reveal diverse aspects of the phenomenon of religion, I opt for the last, the cognitive paradigm, albeit not uncritically. Broadly, this paradigm aims at studying human attribution of meaning in terms of the interaction between brain, mind, behaviour and cultural environment. Among non-initiates there is a misconception that cognitive science focuses exclusively on conscious, intellectual or rational processes. Nothing can be further from the truth. Its focus is the neural architecture and processes that constitute the infrastructure of human functions such as sensations, perceptions, automatic responses, feeling emotions, processing emotions, memory, imagination, conceptualisation, reasoning, decision making, planning and acting. Religious experience, religious knowledge and religious reasoning, too, are imbedded in a perceptual and emotional infrastructure, from which it cannot be divorced and which constantly influences them (Barsalou et al.: 2005; Thagard: 2005). Evidence of this is the growing literature on cognitive science of religion over the past fifteen years, notably in book series like Cognitive Science of Religion Series and journals like Method and Theory of the Study of Religion and Journal of Cognition and Culture. Against this background the paper deals with the following themes: 1. goals of religious research, object of religious research, 2. general aspects and 3. specific aspects, 4. relation between insider and outsider perspectives in which religious research is conducted, 5. the principle of comparativism, and finally, 6. the normative implications at issue.3

1. Goals I do not regard science of religion as a science sui generis, even though its history – especially in Eliade’s school – abounds in such claims. In its 3 This article builds on, but is also a fundamental revision of, van der Ven: 2001; 2002; 2005; 2005a.

80

Johannes A. van der Ven

broadest sense religion needs to be studied with due regard to the full spectrum of both conventional and critical notions in the alpha, beta and gamma sciences, in unrestricted academic freedom at a comprehensive, broad university – what Derrida (2001) calls an université sans conditions.4 From this point of view it should be emphasised that the specific goals of comparative science of religion do not differ fundamentally from that of any other scientific discipline, namely the production of new knowledge. Having said that, cognitive theory of science specifies four research goals for every academic discipline, including, to my mind, the academic study of religion (Kuipers: 2001, 73–130). The first is descriptive research, which entails optimally accurate recording of phenomena as well as of the differences and similarities between them and, on that basis, developing classifications, typologies and taxonomies. Thus one can describe the similarities and differences between religious practices, including their experiential, emotional and cognitive aspects. The second goal is explanatory research, which examines the intentional, functional and causal relations between phenomena, including their similarities and differences. This goal, too, is relevant to research into religious phenomena. It is not confined to the intentions of religious actors, which may be regarded as the cause of religious practices and conceptions.5 It also entails functional, so-called part/whole explanations of religious practices and conceptions by placing them in a larger religious or cultural unit. It also refers to the endeavour to trace religious practices as necessary conditions for – and in that sense causes of – these larger religious or cultural units, and conversely, of these units as necessary conditions for religious practices.6 The third goal is the design research emanating from descriptive and explanatory research. There are 4 Science of religion should conduct its research according to the principle of academic freedom. After all, truth can only be approximated if there is freedom of research and free exchange of conflicting views. In various religious communities the relationship between freedom and truth is reverse, as freedom is seen as subordinate to truth. 5 In terms of action theory the actor’s intentions can be seen as the cause of the effects to which the action gives rise; after all, actors think of the consequences of their actions (Lakoff/Johnson: 1980, 54f), both consciously and (mostly) unconsciously. Because there always is interaction between actors’ thoughts and context variables, Ricoeur (1992, 110) does not refer to a purely causal but a quasi-causal model. 6 In a causal context religious practices may be regarded as independent variables and the larger cultural and religious units as dependent variables, and vice versa: the larger cultural and religious units as independent variables and religious practices as dependent variables. The human sciences are not concerned with strictly causal explanations in the sense of sufficient conditions but, as Max Weber (1980, 5) showed, with causally adequate explanations in the sense of conducive and necessary conditions (Kalberg: 2001, 202ff). According to McAllister (2002) both kinds of explanations should not be seen as dichotomous, because in disciplines like biology and development studies a dialectical relation appears to exist between causally adequate explanations (“verstehen”) and strictly causal explanations (“erklären”).

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

81

two varieties: theoretical and practical design research projects. The former entails designing new (always partial) theories in response to reformulated or (relatively) new theoretical problems. The second focuses on the evaluation of methodical intervention in practices so as to discover their mechanisms (more accurately). Here one thinks of experimental or quasi-experimental research into religious education or religious rituals. In addition it should be noted that design research not only emanates from descriptive and explanatory research, but also influences it inasmuch as it involves the finding and formulation of new hypotheses. The fourth and last goal relates to explicative research aimed at defining concepts in accordance with epistemological criteria like logical discrimination, extension, intension, consistency and coherence. Such concepts are necessary so as to transcend intuitive impressionism and to describe and explain religious phenomena in terms of the degree of resemblance and difference between them. In the broad framework of constructive realism, which is implied in the cognitive paradigm, explicative research does not refer to the traditional claim of so-called correspondence truth but that of fallible, probabilistic truth marked by degrees of approximating truth, as will be seen below, at the end of this article. What I have said so far may create the impression that the goal of scientific research is couched on rationalist rather than cognitive lines. It is important to distinguish clearly between the two. The rationalist approach rests on the assumption that science is the product of a purely rational mind, whereas the cognitive approach proceeds on the premise that science is the product of an embodied and an imbedded mind: the human mind is influenced in innumerable ways by the body, including its emotions and unconscious reasoning, just as it in its turn influences the body, all the while embedded in and nourished by the cultural context in which it is shaped and which it also shapes (Lakoff: 1987; Lakoff/Johnson: 1980). This distinction has major implications. The rationalist approach swears by universal hard and fast premises, clear-cut concepts, straight and narrow theories and universal, irrefutable test results. The cognitive approach introduces all sorts of qualifications, which are particularly important for comparative research. Thus one should realise that some premises may be considered universal, for instance general statements about brain processes implied in religious practices, but others are determined by context, for instance statements about the cultural aspects of religious practices.7 Furthermore, whereas the

7 This universality/contextuality dichotomy runs the danger to hide the complexity of the relation between brain and culture, because the cultural aspects of religion are channelled and limited by the infrastructure of the brain, which is universal (Bulbulia: 2005), such as interactions between senses and automatic responses, automatic responses and emotions, emotions and memory, emotions and cognitive and cogitative processes, unconscious and conscious cogitative processes, induction,

82

Johannes A. van der Ven

rationalist approach to science defines concepts in terms of dichotomies and even antinomies, proponents of the cognitive paradigm stress the emotiondriven, metaphor-driven and praxis-driven nature of concepts and hence continuity between concepts. Besides, rules and theories do not stem purely from the researcher’s brain, but are characterised by cultural contexts and cultural maps in the society of which they are part. Finally, there is no such thing as universally irrefutable empirical outcomes, since they always have to be proved anew in each new context and may moreover forfeit their alleged self-evidence in the light of rival paradigms. This does not mean that all scientific practice is up in the air, and/or that we should not keep striving for optimally accurate conceptualisation and theorising and the acquisition of precise test results in the interest of descriptive and explanatory research. But it does mean that we must take cognisance of all the perceptual, emotional, pragmatic and cultural factors in which human cognition is embodied and imbedded.

2. Object: General Aspects of Religion I have indicated that the object of comparative science of religion is the field of religions. In this section I give a general, and in the next a specific, definition of religion as a study object. Looking for a general definition of religion is to open a veritable can of worms, the more so since the literature yields more than a hundred definitions (Platvoet: 1999, 505). The knottiest problem is certainly that religion as such does not exist, because it is a scientific construct. What exists in real life is “sacred” spaces and times, “sacred” objects and behaviour, connected with rituals, beliefs, emotions, gatherings, priests and prophets. The term religion is an abstraction, it is the product, not of “lived religions” like Judaism, Christianity, Islam or Hinduism, but of scientists (Smith: 1998; 2004), even scientists of the modern era (Asad: 2003). At least three kinds of definitions of this scientific construct are in circulation, with all the problems implied in them (Platvoet/Molendijk: 1999). The first is what is known as substantive definitions, which see religion as a set of practices before and about an ultimate reality. The latter is referred to by such terms as the absolute, the transcendent, the holy, the divine, the deity or God – terms which moreover connote various cultural and religious contexts, as deduction and abduction in these cogitative processes on the one hand and pattern recognition based on prototypes on the other (Churchland: 1995; Haselager: 1997; van der Ven: 2004).

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

83

well as diverse approaches and theories within these contexts about ultimate reality. Scientific terminology is by no means a-theoretical, and that goes for science of religion as well (Dalferth: 2001; 2003). The second type comprises functional definitions. These do not centre on practices performed before and about God, but on those practices that function as ultimate reality as religion does, fulfilling similar functions and arousing similar emotions. The standard example is football, which functions as an ultimate end in itself; but one can cite several others, such as pop music, liquor or sex, or serious activities like caring for a family or climbing the professional ladder – these too can function as ultimate reality. The drawback of this approach is that the research object becomes so broad that it comprehends literally everything (everything can function as a religion), hence it lacks the clear demarcation that every science requires. A science of religion that purports to be a science-of-everything leads everywhere, thus ends up leading nowhere. Consequently religion as a distinctive, more or less precisely definable domain of phenomena ceases to exist. The third type of definition is reductionist. It sees religion purely as an ideology of social power and violence in a political context or as a pathology, such as sublimation of secondary narcissism, in a psychological context. I call these definitions reductionist because they explain away religion as an independent domain and reduce it to political and/or psychological factors.8 To determine the object of science of religion I settle for the first type of definition, the substantive variety, because the other two strip religion of its distinctive character and render it meaningless and vacuous. Substantive religion has, as noted already, two aspects: practices performed before God and practices about God. Practices performed before God are prayer, meditation, liturgy and religiously informed activities, traditionally termed coram Deo. Practices about God are religious dialogue, religious care, religious education and instruction, establishing religious communities and the like. “God” within these religious practices can be seen from the dialectical relation between transcendence and immanence. This relation could, but should not, be seen as a dichotomy. Rather it is a continuum: in religious practice one can discern forms of transcendence in which the presence of immanence in the transcendent cannot, or can hardly, be detected (absolute transcendence) or, conversely, the presence of the transcendent in the immanent (absolute immanence); there are also practices – the majority – which display intermediate forms. In immanent transcendence the emphasis is on transcendence, manifesting itself in the immanent, whereas in tran8 See the discussions in Journal of the American Academy of Religion (No. 73 (2005), 209–217; No. 74 (2006), 524–528), and in Method and Theory in the Study of Religion (No. 17 (2005), 1–67) in relation to, for example, McCutcheon (1996) and Lincoln (1999); see also Roberts (2005).

84

Johannes A. van der Ven

scendent immanence the emphasis is on immanence taking on transcendent height and depth (van der Ven: 1998). A possible objection to such a definition is that, whereas it covers the Christian religion and major aspects of the other two monotheistic religions, Judaism and Islam, it excludes a polytheistic religion like Hinduism and an atheistic one like Buddhism.9 Quite apart from the fact that Hinduism is underpinned by a monotheistic structure, that the atheism of Theravada Buddhism is actually a form of non-theism and folk Buddhism has manifestly theistic features, there is a further point. Underlying the aforementioned objection that religions differ too widely to be lumped together under the proposed definition (religious practices performed before and about God) is an implicit striving for an all-encompassing, universal definition of religion. Because of the diachronic and synchronic pluralism of religious practices, however, that aspiration is illusory. The reason is that one cannot avoid a definition of religion based on familiarity with one’s “home” religion. It cannot be otherwise if one uses a cognitive paradigm, in which the embodied and culturally imbedded mind is focal. Concepts, definitions and rules in whatever field or cultural science are based on families of resemblances, in their turn based on prototypes that, pragmatically, belong to the first rank, as will be explained below (Churchland: 1995; Haselager: 1997). In any definition of religion one’s “home” religion fulfils this prototypical function, which indicates the focal purport of the concept: the closer a member of the family corresponds with the prototype, the more typical it is. Scientifically, it is better to reflect critically on this prototypical structure than to act as if it doesn’t or didn’t exist and strive blindly for universal concepts, definitions and rules (Platvoet: 1999; cf. Day: 2005). That means that one must constantly consider whether a definition needs to be adjusted, even fundamentally modified, when one moves from one country or continent to another in order to study its religion or religions in situ. Opting for a prototypical approach to the concept of religion amounts to opting for a pluralistic contextuality of such concepts. From the history of the study of religion, especially traditional Christian theology, the question may be raised whether the substantive definition of religion that I propose amounts to the notion propounded in ancient docu9 In western history Christianity appeared always to be the criterion from which the other religions were valued. In the second half of the 19th century Buddhism – a western construction- was valued positively, because it was seen as a universal religion, although some doubts were expressed whether it was a religion at all, whereas the other religions, even Islam, were seen as national religions only. In the last decades of the 19th century Hinduism – no less a western construction – was added, because it was positively valued of its Aryan roots, in which Christianity participated, whereas the other religions, especially Judaism and Islam, were depreciatively valued because of their Semitic roots (Masuzawa: 2005).

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

85

ments of theological tradition, to the effect that the object of study is God rather than religious practices performed before and about God. My answer is an unequivocal no. After all, there is an essential difference between God and these religious practices. Particularly since Kant we know that God cannot be the object of scientific activity. In terms of the aforementioned four goals of research, God cannot be the object of scientific description, explanation, design research or conceptual explication. Statements about God are not falsifiable because they cannot be controlled intersubjectively: God eludes controls of whatever kind. His presence, as Ricoeur aptly puts it, consists in coordinating his own absence (1994, 281–306; 1995, 217– 235). I would concede that God may function as a horizon of scientific reflection, but only as an ever receding horizon – not as its object. Ever since the Enlightenment liberal Protestant theologians have abandoned the notion that theology is a theory of God and instead define it as a theory of religious practices (Drehsen: 1988, 72–96), a definition which other Protestant and Catholic theologians resist. One of the principal arguments for this resistance is that science is always tied to particular historical, cultural, conceptual and philosophical presuppositions: there is no such thing as a science without presuppositions (voraussetzungslose Wissenschaft). A science without presuppositions is even impossible, as Troeltsch rightly said, because that would imply a regressus ad infinitum (1912, 183– 192). This applies equally to theology and science of religion, hence these disciplines, it is argued, can rightly assume the existence of God as one of their presuppositions without forfeiting their scientific character. But that is not the end of the story. After all, there are two ways of dealing with the presuppositions underlying every science. The first is simply to accept unquestioningly the truth of the claims made in the presuppositions, for instance “God exists”. The second is to make these claims a research object and reflect on them critically. It should be evident that in a université sans conditions only the second way is admissible – the first is not. As Spranger observed in the debate on presuppositions, “The virtue of science is not its being free from presuppositions, but the self-criticism of its foundations” (1964, 20). Put differently, it is a matter, not of “science without presuppositions, but [of] critical science” (ibid., 30). Spranger bases his argument on the plurality of presuppositions in science and the plurality of worldviews associated with these. Science does not have to be grounded in just one worldview or religion but may proceed from many, mutually conflicting ones. Rather than assigning just one worldview or religion in this “anarchy of values” (ibid., 18) some sort of “eternal monopoly” (Ewigkeitsmonopol), one should analyse the relevant, apparently unproblematic worldviews and religions and make them objects of research (ibid., 13). In other words, in science nothing is exempt from the test of falsifiability.

86

Johannes A. van der Ven

Pannenberg endorses this view (1973, 299–302). If worldviews are to be analysed, he maintains, the same applies to God. God is not an unquestionable premise and anchorage for science of religion: according to Pannenberg, God himself has become a hypothesis. God as a hypothesis for Christian theology – an appealing idea, that I used to endorse myself (van der Ven: 1993, 105f). But the problem is that a hypothesis must be falsifiable and, as I have pointed out, God is not falsifiable, even by definition. He cannot – and even should not – be caught into the concepts, classifications, taxonomies, correlational or causal analyses of the goals of research I indicated earlier, the goals of descriptive, explanatory, design-related and explicative investigations. Besides, the notion of God as a hypothesis conflicts with an idea that Pannenberg supports, and with which I agree, namely that “the conception of a science cannot coincide with one sole general hypothesis, because then the possibility of its testing would just not exist any more in that science” (1973, 261). In other words, God cannot be presented as either the object or the hypothesis of the science of religion: its object is religion, or religious practices. In a nutshell: the object of religious studies is not “God exists” but the religious practices in which people express their faith in God, their hopes from God and their love for God, and/or their questions and doubts about God, their faith mingled with unbelief, hope mingled with despair, love mingled with lukewarmness. This approach also concurs with day-to-day research at universities. After all, exegetes are not dealing with God but with biblical texts, church historians with documents, systematic theologians with works from scholarly tradition, empirical theologians with numerical data sets, which likewise derive from texts. In short, it boils down to human texts about religious practices. It is not without reason that many post-Enlightenment theologians have seen the object of theology not as God but as human beings’ religious relationship with God, such as a sense of absolute dependence on God (Schleiermacher), ultimate concern with God (Tillich), the problematization of God (Pannenberg) or, lastly, the concept of God (Essen) or better: the concepts of God.10 For the past fifteen years I have shared this view (van der Ven: 1993, 120–121). 10 Essen refers to the concept of God as object of scientific reflection (2001, 252). In a more recent publication Essen reiterates his view that ever since Kant reason seems to come up against a critical limit in statements about God’s existence (2005, 181). But, he adds, in the framework of autonomous, idealistic subject philosophy one can hold out, at least theoretically, for the rationality of the concept of God and, in a practical sense, relate it to the human need for an allencompassing orientation of human knowledge. He continues to argue that for this reason he fails to see why religion can be regarded as a possible object of scientific reflection but the concept of God cannot. My reaction would be that I can agree, albeit not without some uneasiness, with the

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

87

This has implications for the question whether scholars of religion are or should be believers (van der Ven: 2002, 262). Again my answer is unequivocal. An educationist need not be a parent, a scholar of literature a poet, a medievalist a person from the Middle Ages, an oncologist a cancer patient. By the same token a scholar of religions does not have to be a believer. It might be an advantage for a scholar of Christianity to be a Christian or a scholar of Islam a Muslim; but it is by no means prerequisite. In one sense it could even be a drawback because of possible blind spots. Researchers do have to cultivate an empathic attitude towards the religion they study and adopt an insider perspective, but adopting that perspective is not the same as personal commitment to the religion. One adopts a perspective for a given period; a commitment constitutes one’s identity. Commitment is expressed in religious acts; conducting a study of religion, or (even) doing theology, is a scientific, not a religious, activity (Schillebeeckx: 1964, 81).11 This statement, that theology is a scientific, not a religious activity, conflicts with the scholastic tradition that theology views all reality from God’s point of view, for such a view is an act of faith, not an act of science. The believer looks through God’s eyes, to quote another scholastic adage; the scholar of religions, by contrast, looks at believers, however imperfect or shaky their faith. At all events, conflating religious and theological propositions, religious and religio-scientific statements conflicts with the scientific requirement of intersubjective controllability. On the other hand, the fact that scholars of religion are not and need not be believers does not mean that that they may or should deny the existence of God, the ultimate reality, in their professional work. Sometimes this limit is transgressed by researchers operating in a cognitive paradigm. Let me illustrate the point with reference to a question: when do people claim to idea that the concept of God can be object of scientific reflection, but I have to insist: God cannot. My uneasiness stems from the fact that Essen’s philosophy infers the existence and right to exist of the concept of God, singular. For two reasons, an epistemological and an empirical one, I would prefer to refer to God concepts (plural) as object of scientific reflection. The epistemological reason refers to the fact that we only have access to reality through the frames of reference (plural) we develop about this reality, including the reality of God. Thus N. Goodman writes: “If I ask about the world, you can offer to tell me how it is under one of more frames of reference; but if I insist that you tell me how it is apart from all frames, what can you say?” (1978, 2–3; cf. Davidson: 2001). Essen’s frame of reference is just one of them. The empirical reason is that speaking of the concept of God (singular) ignores the actual plurality of God concepts, that range from theistic concepts of God as substance, to panentheistic concepts of God being present in the histories and lives of human beings, to (quasi-)pantheistic concepts like “God or Nature” (Deus sive Natura), to the prohibition of concepts in apophatic approaches, to the total denial of God’s existence in some Buddhist schools. 11 Wiegers’ notion, which does not distinguish properly between the believer’s religious commitment and the researcher’s adoption of the believer’s perspective, is symptomatic of the muzziness in the debate on insider and outsider perspectives and on emic and etic (2005).

88

Johannes A. van der Ven

experience God? In the cognitive paradigm there is a tendency to answer this question with the aid of the following type of example. Imagine walking at night in a poorly lit alleyway and discerning in the distance a black object leaning against a wall. It seems to be the size of a human being and has protrusions that look like arms. Instantly all kinds of defence mechanisms come into operation. One’s heart beats faster, blood circulation increases, muscles tense, perspiration starts functioning palpably; in short, everything is brought into readiness to come to blows with the danger, for unwittingly one attributes human features to the dark apparition. This can be explained as an adaptive brain operation. After all, mistaking a bundle of wood for a human being can be frightening; but the reverse – mistaking someone wielding a knife for a bundle of wood – may be lethal. In other words, in this case a perceptual illusion has an evolutionary function. Religious experience is said to function analogously: it, too, is a product of perceptual illusion. Religion, it is argued, helps people fend off the fatal awareness of human fragility and finitude, of suffering and death. However functional such a religion may be, according to this argument it is based on a cognitive error, because people think it safeguards them from the meaninglessness of suffering and the dark abyss of death, which of course they cannot escape. It is as much a fiction as seeing faces in clouds is illusory (Slone: 2004, 57–58). This is to cross the boundary from cognitivism to ontology. Cognitive researchers do the same when they pass judgment on people who assign God explicitly human attributes,12 such as seeing God as someone who observes and sanctions not only their speech and actions, but also their inner thoughts, hidden motives, evil intentions and stealthy lies. Thus God is considered capable of what humans can only accomplish partially: perfectly reading the other’s mind. Human beings can understand what the other claims to think, feel, desire, and do so from that person’s point of view, according to that person’s experience of it. But in God’s case this capacity is limitless: he sees and understands even things that the other keeps to herself, her secret thoughts, even when they are not (altogether) conscious. In addition he is able to read not only the other’s mind (singular) but others’ minds (plural), for he is present everywhere at all times, in every place at every moment among all people. It is argued that attributing such perfect mind-reading to God is functional for the moral order of society. The fact that people believe in a God “who knows everybody’s sitting down and 12 Boyer points out that on the whole believers do not ascribe general human attributes to God, only attributes which are peculiar to the human mind: God sees and knows everything, has a limitless memory, develops plans, but he does not have a body, does not eat food, is not married and does not age or fall ill (2001, 144).

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

89

rising-up, discerns their thoughts from far away […] even before their word is on their tongue” (Ps 139:1–4*), helps to prevent secretly planned violence and criminality and urges people to practise justice and love. People believe in God, not (only) because he is thought capable of intervening mechanically in the physical forces of nature, for instance in the case of hurricanes, a tsunami or lightning, not (only) because he is thought capable of intervening in biological structures and processes, for instance those of suffering and death, but (also) because he represents the moral order that forms a backdrop to the questions of justice and injustice evoked by suffering and death: Why? Why me? Why now? He is the all-encompassing symbol of the relation between morality, justice, suffering and death, either because he represents the order of retribution, or because, as in the book of Job, he transcends it and (ironically) relativizes it. That, the argument goes, is why people’s faith in God is functional (Boyer: 2001, 195–202). Nonetheless, cognitively it remains an illusion (Bering: 2005; Bering/Johnson: 2005). Such claims transgress two boundaries. They not only disregard the divide between perceptual reflex processes (seeing faces in clouds) and reflective processes in religious attribution that are at a higher cognitive level (faith in God nurtured by centuries-old cultural traditions).13 They also transgress a methodological boundary that forbids the use of either theistic or atheistic beliefs in scientific argumentation. It is as bad a category blunder (Wittgenstein) as introducing political beliefs as arguments in a political science treatise, or social convictions in a sociology thesis.

3. Object: Specific Aspects of Religion So far I have defined the object of science of religion in the general terms of a substantive concept of religion. Now I want to look at two specific aspects: religious practice and religious doctrine. Religious practice can be distinguished, as I indicated in the previous part, into two forms: practice performed before God (prayer, meditation, liturgy and religiously informed activity etc.) and practice performed about God (religious dialogue, care, education, instruction, community building etc). All these practices (can) have diverse aspects – in the literature one 13 The fact that religious attribution has a neurological infrastructure does not mean that it is simply a function of the brain. God is not experienced by the brain but by the human mind, no more than experiences, emotions, thinking, imagining, consciousness and self-consciousness are purely cerebral functions (Farthing: 1992, 75–77; Bates et al.: 2002, 590–601; Bennet/Hacker: 2003; Popper/Eccles: 2003, 22–35).

90

Johannes A. van der Ven

sometimes finds a dozen or more. Without tying myself to a specific number (it would depend on the definitions of the aspects) I cite the following: religious emotions (emotional aspect), religious beliefs (cognitive aspect), religious attitudes (attitudinal aspect), explicitly religious activities (ritual aspect), religiously informed moral behaviour (moral aspect), religious community (communitarian aspect), religious organisation (institutional aspect), financial infrastructure (economic aspect), religious spaces and objects (material aspect).14 In making these distinctions I am taking a stance in some of the debates in this field. For instance, I do not consider Asad’s arguments about whether religion is practice or belief relevant, for the simple reason that there is no such thing as religious practice without beliefs, nor can there be – at any rate not in terms of the cognitive paradigm (Asad: 1993, 27–54; Schilbrack: 2005). I also think the two aspects (practice and belief), to which D. Pals confines himself in the consensus he reaches in his Seven Theories of Religion, should be expanded to include the aspects listed above: religion is more complex than just practice and belief or behaviour and belief (Pals: 1996). But there is yet another distinction that I want to underscore, even though it complicates the debate further. It has to be noted, since it will prevent unnecessary controversy. I am speaking about the difference between online and off-line religious practice. Both are forms of religious practice. However, on-line religious practice happens when people are actively occupied with religion and engage with it actively – what could be described as a religious performance. Off-line religious practice indicates reflection on the personal decision on which participation in a religious performance is based – for without such a reflective decision a religious performance will no longer happen in present-day individualised and secularised Western culture, in neither (for instance) Christian nor Muslim groups (Roy: 2004, 148–200). On-line and off-line religion are related, in that participation and reflection are dialectically linked: the one is a condition for the other and, conversely, each has an effect on the other. Boyer, a leading proponent of cognitive science of religion, makes a sharp distinction between the two (2001, 277–285). Others, like I. Pyysiäinen, observe the way each implies the other and the transitions between them (2004). Pyysiäinen is right, for in both there are reasoning processes at work, probably more 14 Aspects mentioned in other lists (Smart: 1996; Cannon: 1996; Carman/Hopkins: 1991), but which I consider linked with the ones I mention are: mythic, narrative, doctrinal and “reasoned inquiry” aspects (falling under my cognitive aspect), religious and mystical experiences (falling under my emotional aspect or a combination of emotional and cognitive aspects), devotional aspects (falling under my emotional, attitudinal and ritual aspects), social aspect (falling under my communitarian and/or institutional aspects), pilgrimages (falling under a combination of various aspects).

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

91

reflexive in the case of participation and more reflective in the case of thoughtful decision-making. As I said, the object of science of religion is not confined to religious practice but includes religious doctrine – the second aspect mentioned above. Why do I mention this as a special aspect? This is an important question, because many authors mostly refer to what can be called the individual-psychological and social-psychological aspects of religion, without taking into account the institutional aspects, especially when they stress the deinstitutionalisation, detraditionalisation and individualisation of “modern” religiosity. The answer is that religious practice and religious doctrine are dialectically related, which means that religious practice influences religious doctrine, as, for in stance, the saying lex orandi lex credendi indicates, whereas at the same time religious doctrine influences religious practice. The latter happens in the doctrinal training of religious personnel, religious education and instruction in families and schools, and sermons and other rhetorical addresses in ritual settings, both liturgical and nonliturgical.15 Official religious doctrine should be seen as a matter for religious specialists, who cherish the “canonical” scriptures, the traditions deriving from these and the authoritative pronouncements of the synagogue, pope and bishops, synod, uluma or monastery regarding the interpretation of these scriptures and traditions. Here differences between religions should not be overlooked. Which scriptures are involved, the meaning of “canonicity”, the authority assigned to it, the traditions at issue, the authority attributed to the doctrinal decisions of synagogue, church, uluma or monastery – all these things differ from one religion to the next, also between denominations and religious trends within religions; they vary, moreover, from one age and place to another. How can these varieties in emphasis on scripture, tradition and authority be understood and what is their relevance for comparative science of religion? For an answer to this question one could make a distinction between truth concepts, truth claims and truth regimes (Lincoln: 1996). Truth concepts, whether explicit or implicit, are found in all science. The same ap15 The relation between this religious doctrine and theology as an academic discipline is a complex one. Church leadership see them identical, because they regard the latter as being the apologetic or at any rate reasoned exposition and actualisation of the former. Theologians are devided on this point. Some of them, especially those of ecclesiastic faculties and seminaries, agree with church leadership, others make a sharp distinction or even a separation between the two, while a third group mediates between these two groups. Besides, it is not just ecclesiastic leaders and theologians of ecclesiastic faculties and seminaries that hold the first view; it is shared by certain representatives of the cognitive paradigm as well (for example Boyer: 2001, 277–285), undoubtedly because some theologians adopt this position. This makes theology a confused and confusing discipline.

92

Johannes A. van der Ven

plies to truth claims, but, being hypotheses, they are subject to careful research aimed at falsifying them, which, if (for now) unsuccessful, establishes them as corroborated hypotheses. Truth regimes are intent on inculcating the truth, “their” truth, by every possible means (financial, political, cultural, rhetorical) and retaining and strengthening their power over it – counter to the principle of an université sans conditions. The first two kinds (truth concepts and truth claims) could be classified as weak forms of religious doctrine, the last (truth regimes) as a strong form of religious doctrine with all the (attempts at) indoctrination it entails. The first stem from a tolerant attitude, the latter stems from a more or less totalitarian approach accompanied by a highly developed notion of orthodoxy. All this is linked to the question whether we are dealing with local religious specialists and their local teaching, or with supra-local, national or supra-national specialists and their “universal” doctrine. The more supra-local their authority is, the more they are inclined to operate a truth regime.16

4. Insider and Outsider Perspectives I have now outlined the goals and the object of science of religion. The goals are to describe, explain, design and define religion. The object comprises aspects of substantive religion in general and specific aspects of religion in particular, to wit religious practice and religious doctrine. But that is just a general framework. We still have to show that these aspects of religion can and should be viewed in both an insider and an outsider perspective. Let me start by saying what the two terms do not imply. They are not substantive, in that they have no substance in their own right, even though they can be given substance; they are purely formal. In this respect there are often all sorts of misconceptions, associated with the goals and objects of research and the person of the researcher. The first misconception concerns goals. It is that studies from an insider perspective are identified with descriptive research and those from an outsider perspective with explanatory research. Yet both perspectives can and should be adopted in both descriptive and explanatory research. The second misconception concerns the object. From an insider perspective, it is said, the object of study is God; from an outsider perspective it is religion or religious practices. But I have already argued that God can never be the object of either descriptive or explanatory research, because his presence in fact consists in coordinating his own absence. Hence he cannot be 16 Boyer fails to take proper account of this variation (2001, 277–285).

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

93

posited as a hypothesis, since his existence cannot be falsified. So the only possible object for science of religion is human beings’ relation to God, as expressed in religious practices in which people address themselves to God or communicate about God, with all the aforementioned emotional, cognitive, moral and other aspects these entail. This applies to Christian and nonChristian religions alike. They can all be studied in an insider and an outsider perspective. The third misconception regards the researcher personally. In an insider perspective, it is said, researchers have to be believers themselves, whereas in an outsider perspective they are non-believers, outsiders operating on a methodologically agnostic basis. As will be seen below, the insider perspective is not determined by people who belong to a particular religious group or community and/or participate in the community’s religious ceremonies out of personal commitment. The insider perspective is not that of people who are on the inside but those who adopt an insider perspective, that of the insider. Nor is an outsider perspective that of non-members or those who do not join in ceremonies out of personal engagement. They are not outsiders but merely adopt that perspective. Thus believers can adopt both an insider and an outsider perspective on their own religion, and so can non-believers. The fourth and last misconception is that researchers who adopt an insider perspective are wholly, even exhaustively, determined by the cultural and religious context in which they conduct their study, and those who adopt an outsider perspective are free from such contexts. This misconception is encountered not only in secularist approaches to science of religion, but also in a particular phenomenological school that insists that researchers should “bracket” or suspend themselves, their ideas, situation and context entirely. This shows a sad disregard for the insight that the researcher is always a positioned subject, a situated observer, an embodied agent, an imbedded investigator. Nevertheless, some researchers embrace methodological agnosticism so as to ensure objectivity and neutrality (cf. Wiegers: 2005), but fail to realise that objectivity and neutrality do not exist, cannot exist in cultural studies, especially religious studies. The only thing that can exist is striving for impartiality (Ricoeur: 2000, 413–436). I wish to underline the striving for impartiality, because impartiality is not a descriptive concept, but in Kantian terms, a regulative idea. In contrast to neutrality, impartiality is an ideal, because it is founded on, again in Kantian terms, the categorical imperative that one has to treat human beings never simply as a means, but always at the same time as an end, an intrinsic value, especially in moral and religious affairs (Kant: 1964, 96; Nussbaum: 2006, 12). This means that religion has to be studied as much as possible independently from one’s own beliefs and interests, wants and needs, convictions and biases. Rawls says of a rational and impartial sympathetic spectator:

94

Johannes A. van der Ven

His own interests do not thwart his natural sympathy for the aspirations of others and he has a perfect knowledge of these endeavours and what they mean for those who have them. (Rawls: 1971, 186)

His sympathetic impartiality is out of a “purity of heart” (Nussbaum: 2006, 409). Those, who embrace the idea of neutrality, in stead of impartiality, do not realise that in so doing they are themselves adopting a stance, even a worldview, albeit a nonreligious one, typical of Western secularised society. In other words, detached objectivity is impossible; there is no such thing as a view from nowhere (Flood: 1999, 143–168, here 149; Habermas: 2005, 119–154). In short, the paired concepts “insider and outsider perspective”, are not identical with such pairs as “committed and detached research”, “descriptive and explanatory research”, “Christian and non-Christian research” and “religious and nonreligious research”. Having indicated what the two terms do not mean, let us examine what they do mean. The best way to clarify them is with reference to what is known in phonology as emic and etic analysis, “-emic” and “-etic” functioning as suffixes of “phoneme”: phonemic and phonetic. According to Pike, who coined the two terms as far back as 1954, the former pertains to the study of speech sounds in a given language according to the native usage of her informants; the latter refers to the same speech sounds in more general terms. From phonology, via cultural semantics, the two terms penetrated the social sciences – especially anthropology and comparative psychology – during the 1980s, whereupon they found their way into religious studies. The multiplicity of meanings covered by the two concepts in cultural semantics and the social sciences is also found in religious studies (Headland: 1990, 20–24). The most common meaning of emic and etic in religious studies is that of researchers who adopt the inside perspective or the outsider perspective. “Emic” refers to the study of religions from an insider perspective on the relevant religions, and “etic” to studies from a more general metaperspective, in which emic descriptions can be transformed, compared and analysed at a higher level of abstraction (Jensen: 1999, 422). More specifically they mean that in an insider perspective one would use the semantics, grammar and pragmatics as used in that religion, and in an outsider perspective those semantics, grammar and pragmatics are translated into general categories transcending the particular religion so as to permit comparative study of several religions in terms of these broader categories. Naturally there is constant cross-pollination between research from an insider, emic or first order perspective and an outsider, etic or second order perspective. For one thing, through their schooling and programmes in the media members of a particular religion are gradually influenced by the

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

95

results of research from an outsider perspective. They come to adopt the terminology of that research – terms like “religious fiction”, “myth”, “ideology”, “taboo”, “performance” – and thus in a sense broaden their own insider perspective. At the same time many of the terms used from an outsider perspective derive from studies in an insider perspective, albeit with different loadings, for instance terms like “faith”, “belief”, “experience”, “image”, “sacrifice” and “ritual“ (cf. Taylor: 1998). Besides, the deciding factor in the case of emic and etic is not the source of knowledge but its aim. Hence it doesn’t matter whether emic categories derive from etic categories, or vice versa. The important thing is what is envisaged: gathering knowledge from the perspective of either the inside or the outside (cf. Lett: 1990, 137). In the case of the insider perspective the “new” terms are associated with “old” terms and believers incorporate them into their understanding of their own religion, while the researcher tries to grasp that self-understanding, including the new terms, from the believer’s perspective. In the case of the outsider perspective it is a matter of translating “old” and “new” native testimonies into more general categories that permit comparison between religions, thus turning them into comparative categories. Having clarified the difference between insider and outsider perspectives, we need to consider their interrelationship. Here there are two approaches. The first interprets the two terms as dichotomous, the second puts them on a continuum. First let me explain what the term “dichotomy” means in this context. It refers to two areas separated by a boundary: an inside and an outside. If one is on the inside of a particular religion, one adopts an insider perspective; if one is outside it, one adopts an outsider perspective. It is a choice which is dichotomous in coordinate fashion: one must adopt either one perspective or the other. According to the second approach, which I shall follow below, one has to realise that the term “perspective” is a spatial metaphor, comprising not just a coordinate latitudinal dimension but also a longitudinal and especially a vertical dimension. To my mind the two perspectives should be viewed not merely in terms of a latitudinal and longitudinal dimension but also in terms of their vertical dimension: that of abstraction. If we do that, we find that it is not a matter of two dichotomous positions, between which we have to choose, but of ordinal positions on a continuum. Put differently, from an insider perspective one both describes and explains a religious practice, including the religious doctrine, in terms of the semantics, grammar and pragmatics of its participants, that is in terms of their experience, motivations, beliefs, thought processes and reasoning. If one follows an outsider approach, one ascends to a higher level of abstraction so as to make comparisons. I shall illustrate it with reference to two religious practices from

96

Johannes A. van der Ven

Christianity and Hinduism in which I have taken part myself (van der Ven: 1987, 23–40). In Christian liturgy the Palm Sunday ritual is a performance with many bodily, experiential, cognitive and social aspects, imitating Jesus’ entry in Jerusalem. In Hinduism the procession in the temple in Madurai, in which a statue of the goddess Minaksi, accompanied by elephants, is followed by a train of worshippers on its way to the bedroom of her consort, the god Siva – also a ritual performance.17 From the insider perspective of both Christianity and Hinduism the two rituals can be described independently, but they can also be compared by studying the similarities and differences from an outsider perspective at a higher level of abstraction. In this case the comparative category could be “procession”, with various aspects. In the cognitive paradigm such a procession is characterised by three aspects, which Peirce analysed in his semiotics and Deacon applied to rituals: iconicity (both processions depict a religious incident), indexicality (both processions put participants in touch with the incident, resulting in religious engagement), and symbolism (both processions function as a “journey to God”) (Deacon: 1997). Not only religious practices but also religious doctrines can be studied from both an insider perspective and a comparative outsider perspective. Thus the Palm Sunday procession may be interpreted as a “performative revelation” occurring in the ritual, and within that framework as a “personal revelation” of God in Jesus’ ministry. From an insider perspective the procession to the bedroom in Madurai may be regarded as an example of how the term avatara is used in some Hindu traditions to express the physical concreteness of God, who is ritually put to bed. The similarity of the two religious doctrines can be encapsulated in the term “incarnation” or (Clooney: 2001, 101–123), even better, “manifestation”, in view of both Christian and Hindu theology’s objections – albeit on different grounds – to the term “incarnation” (cf. Ryba: 2000). The manifestation at issue is a manifestation of God, who appears in persons but also in diverse forms of animate and inanimate nature and in artefacts. Such a divine manifestation entails an experience of the numinous, integrating experiences of finitude, failure, good and evil, suffering and death, reconciliation and salvation, in a kind of coincidentia oppositorum (Vroom: 1989). In another language game an emic approach in science of religion can be called a first order analysis and an etic approach a second order analysis. Sometimes the former is associated with what is known as “thick descriptions” of religious phenomena in their native context, approximating Eliade’s programme of “reliving” native experience, like Bellah’s “Habits of the heart” (Bellah: 1985). In contrast to such “thick description”, the etic 17 For a parallel with ancient Egypt, cf. Curtis 1984, with ancient Mesopotamia, cf. Smith 2004.

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

97

approach can be called “thin description”, because it abstracts from the freshness and richness of the various aspects implied in the emic approach. At the same time, terms like “thick description” and “thin description” could lead to the misconception that the difference between the two merely concerns the descriptive goal of science of religion, and that this is the sole goal of the discipline. That is far from true, as should be evident from the first part of this article. More than that, the four goals I have mentioned (descriptive, explanatory, design-related and explicative) are important in both approaches and both approaches entail comparative analyses at a higher level of abstraction (Satlow: 2005). Hence rising to a higher level of abstraction is not peculiar to etic or second order analysis, as is sometimes wrongly averred, but is also characteristic of emic or first order analysis, for conceptualisation and classification, reflection and comparison occur in participant approaches as well (Vosman: 2006, 105–106). Let me illustrate this with an example. In the course of Vatican II the Catholic Church, following the Protestant model, introduced a classification known as the “hierarchy of truths of faith”. Thus it assigned truths about God, Jesus and the Spirit a higher place than Mariological doctrines, which in their turn rank higher than propositions about the church and the sacraments, while these outrank ecclesiastic pronouncements on morality (Schoonenberg: 1968, 293–298). Whatever one’s opinion on this classification, it certainly did not, and could not, have happened without comparative reflection. As certainly all sorts of conceptual and reflective debates are still going on about the interpretation of this hierarchy of truths from the insider perspective of the Catholic tradition, for instance about whether and where faith in an afterlife ranks in the first hierarchical group (Schillebeeckx: 1994, 35–36), the difference between Christ-related and specific Maryrelated mariological tenets in the first and second group (Schoonenberg: 1968, 294), the sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist in the third group (Haarsma et al.: 1970, 31), and whether ecclesiastic moral precepts belong in a hierarchy of truths at all, even if only as a fourth group (Schillebeeckx: 1994, 39–48). In contrast to this insider, emic or first order approach, an outsider, etic or second order approach may lead to comparison of the Catholic hierarchy of truths with parallel phenomena in other religions on the basis of Weber’s three touchstones of religious institutions, namely written sources, tradition and authority (Weber: 1980, 279–285). These can be used to describe and understand the similarities and differences between religions. Thus one may find that, whereas Hinduism and Judaism both value their sacred texts and traditions, they set far more store by orthopraxis, observance and ethnic identity than Buddhism, Christianity and Islam, which also cherish their sacred texts and traditions but put the accent on orthodoxy and mission

98

Johannes A. van der Ven

(Holdrege: 1996). One can safely say that, when it comes to preserving orthodoxy and the institutional authority it entails, the Catholic Church beats them all. This has a diachronic aspect, moreover, for it became an issue mainly after the “heresies” of the Enlightenment, which the church repudiated and was consequently left in what appears to be a permanent state of vigilance.

5. Reflective Comparativism The foregoing contains the insight that the distinction between insider and outsider perspective leads us to the attribute of religious research that forms the focus of this paper: comparative research. Put simply, if I study two religious phenomena in two different religions from each one’s insider perspective, I may (note: not must) arrive at the conclusion that the two phenomena relate to each other as two species of the same genus. That may be an oversimplification, for this one sentence contains all kinds of problems that could easily lead to misunderstanding. I cannot dwell on all these problems, but let me mention just four of them. First, when making a comparison one employs categories, as is evident in the example above where we suggested the comparative category “procession”. In a sense this category is self-evident, but it becomes less so when we ask ourselves what we actually do when we fit religious phenomena such as the Palm Sunday ritual and the bedroom ritual into a category. The use of categories is commonplace. In our everyday lives we categorise not only things but also abstractions like events, actions, emotions, spatial relations, social relations, forms of power and authority and, of course, all sorts of cultural phenomena, including religious ones. It should be noted that such categories are often applied unconsciously, as in the case of “furniture”, “kitchenware”, “profit and loss”, “democracy” and “abstract art”, and in the religious sphere “rituals”, “prayers”, “sermons” and “God concepts”. In science it is different: here categories are chosen consciously, reasons are advanced for them and it is debated whether this or that category should be chosen to cover the phenomena under investigation. It may even lead to large-scale scientific conflicts between different schools and traditions, for instance on the question of what is “cognition” and what is “religious cognition” or what is “practice” and what is “religious practice”. This illustrates that a categorisation is not a natural imperative, as it were inherent in the phenomena themselves, but the outcome of scientific allocation. The Palm Sunday and bedroom happenings are not processions in themselves but phenomena to which a scientist attributes the nature of a

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

99

procession. Thus Smith observes that the application of categories to phenomena causes them to be “re-visioned” (1990, 42), “re-described” by the scientist (1982, 37). They are judged to be similar on the basis of some point of view, framework or model that the scientist considers apposite. Hence categorisation is not dyadic, as if it were confined to the two phenomena, but triadic. A third element, albeit of a different order, is added to the two phenomena, namely the respect in which they are considered to be similar: “there is always a ‘with respect to’”, as Smith says (1990, 51). Hence the categorisation of similar phenomena is a result of the scientist’s intellectual operations. Secondly, the use of the term “similar phenomena” poses a knotty problem in comparative research. What does it mean when we consider phenomena to be similar? One objection to this kind of research is that it disregards the unique character of the research object to the extent of destroying it altogether. “Unique” is a complex concept. It can be used in a numeric sense, as when saying that there is no other specimen of a particular phenomenon. Or it may be used in an aesthetic, rhetorical sense as when calling a particular phenomenon beautiful, superb or outstanding. It can also be used ontologically. Then it indicates that a given phenomenon is absolutely alien, absolutely original and, in an epistemological sense, totally incomparable with anything else. This last usage is sometimes encountered in objections to comparative religious research. It may be seen as a defensive strategy to legitimise religious claims to the absoluteness and universality of one’s own religion, its founder, scriptures and tradition. That means that any comparability with and, more than that, influencing by other cultures and religions are ruled out. That, too, should be seen as a defensive strategy. It should be noted that the antonym of uniqueness is sameness. But that is an equally complex concept: like uniqueness, it can be conceived of numerically (“the same specimen”), aesthetically and rhetorically (“conventional, mediocre”), but also ontologically with the accent on identity when two phenomena are said to be identical. To avoid any misconception, comparative research is conducted not in the area between uniqueness (absolute originality) and sameness (identity), but in the area between difference and similarity (Smith: 1990, 47–53). The emphasis is on difference; similarity should be interpreted as a null hypothesis: there is no similarity, because there is some difference. The null hypothesis has to be falsified by demonstrating the similarity. In judicial terms, the onus of proof is not on the one emphasising the difference, for that is the premise, but on the one advocating similarity. So if a comparative researcher posits that two phenomena relate to each other as two species of the same genus, she is not referring to the antonyms “uniqueness” and “identity” but to the antonyms “difference” and “similarity”. The concept of

100

Johannes A. van der Ven

genus highlights difference, as in Aristotle’s definition: “A genus is what is predicated in what a thing is of a number of things exhibiting differences in kind” (Aristotle: 102a, 31–32). Thirdy, we have to distinguish between two types of similarities: strong and weak similarities. The former refers to relations between genus and species according to classical epistemology. That is to say, different species have a clearly delineated common characteristic or characteristics, and both genus and species are demarcated by clear dividing lines. This does not apply to weak similarities, because there are no common characteristics indisputably shared by all species. The lines dividing genus from species, and one species from another, are likewise not sharply circumscribed. This is because there are all sorts of hybrid forms midway between genera and between species. It is also caused by new or newly discovered instances that are classified under a given genus but necessitate expanding the boundaries of that genus (Day: 2005). Even in such an (ostensibly) exact conceptual science as law this is common practice if one wants to keep abreast, judicially, of changing concepts and circumstances (Winter: 2001, 254–256). What characterises all these similarities is not that they can be decisively, unambiguously and all but eternally classified in a single category, nor that they all display the same attributes, but that they belong to the same family in varying degrees of closeness and remoteness. The question is, close or remote according to what criterion? The benchmark is the family member(s) taken to be the best example or better examples of that family. The term “better examples” reveals the flaw: these are not clear-cut definitions of attributes but intuitive, indicative orientations.18 In other words, weak similarities are based on what Wittgenstein calls family resemblances, in which the prototype plays the key role, and the other family members display countless gradations.19 Finally, having distinguished between strong and weak similarities, one could ask in what order these similarities should be classified. What types 18 This relates to the embodied, metaphorical and pragmatic nature of (the use of) categories that derive from everyday life and thence find their way into science (Lakoff/Johnson: 1980; Lakoff: 1987). 19 Edwards compiled a matrix, whose horizontal axis comprises a selection of members of the “religious family” (1972), such as: 1. Christianity, Judaism, Islam; 2. Vedanta, Hindu pantheism; 3. early Buddhism and Hinayana Buddhism; 4. early Greek Olympian polytheism; et cetera, and the vertical axis comprises a selection of prominent characteristics of this family, such as: 1. belief in a supernatural intelligent being or beings; 2. belief in a superior intelligent being or beings; 3. complex worldview interpreting the significance of human life; 4. belief in experience after death; 5. moral code; et cetera. The more attributes a “family member” scores on, the closer it comes to the nucleus of the religious family, the prototype, in the case of Edwards’ example the monotheism of Christianity, Judaism and Islam. The fewer attributes a “family member” scores on, the more it is seen as a borderline case.

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

101

of order are there? Smith proposed four types: encyclopaedic, morphological, evolutionary and ethnographic (Smith: 1982, 22–24) – a typology many authors recommend for science of religion, despite some theoretical weaknesses (Jensen: 2004, 104, 113). Jensen, following Shweder and Bourne, opts for three types of order: universalistic, with the emphasis on homogeneity; relativist, with the accent on diversity; and evolutionary, marked by ranked diversity – a typology which is not free from conceptual weakness either (ibid., 113–127). An insight from the history of science in the European tradition may help to solve the classificatory problem. In this history one can discern six styles of scientific thinking, three of which are comparative: taxonomic, probabilistic and evolutionary. In the taxonomic type phenomena are systematically classified on a ladder (scala naturae); in the probabilistic type phenomena are grouped on the basis of statistical characteristics like frequencies and statistical relations; in the evolutionary type they are classed on the basis of genetic similarities (Crombie: 1994, II, 1245–1443, III, 1547–1765; Kwa: 2005, 223ff). To my mind science of religion has so far confined itself mainly to the taxonomic type; the probabilistic type might be used in empirical branches of the discipline and the evolutionary type in evolution-related cognitive science of religion, which may open up a perspective for future classifications. But at this stage we do not have a clear conception of what types of order we should use for our comparative work. What we can conclude from all this is, firstly, that the categories used in comparative research are triadic. That is to say, classifying phenomena in these categories depends on a third factor: the respect in which the scientist compares them with each other. Secondly, in the comparison the accent is on differences, similarities being the object of a null hypothesis to be falsified. Thirdly, there are strong and weak similarities. The former function according to the principles of classical logic (induction, deduction and abduction), the latter according to those of family resemblances and prototypes. Finally, much conceptual work remains to be done in order to clarify the types of order on which to base classification and comparison. Bearing these insights in mind, one can justifiably make the claim that I phrased very simply at the outset of this part, albeit now with some qualifications. It reads thus: when two (or more) phenomena are compared in comparative research one can, after falsifying the null hypothesis, arrive at the “triadic” conclusion that they display strong or weak similarities, interrelating as species of the same genus, with the proviso that the types of order implied in this “genus” still have to be clarified.

102

Johannes A. van der Ven

6. Comparative Normativity In a reflection on comparative religious research one cannot avoid the question of normativeness, at least if one takes the second approach to religious research I mentioned at the beginning as one’s point of departure.The first one only aims at producing religious knowledge, whereas the second one not only refers at producing knowledge, but also strives to clarify and promote their insights in relation to the common good life to three forums: academia, society and the religions it studies. Of course, one can be awed by the love and justice religions preach and teach, the solidarity they enact with the people who suffer from evil, both contingency-related and guilt-related evil, the fellowship of the weak they perform, the compassion they express and the comfort and consolation they offer. One may also feel inspired by the struggle for liberation religions commit themselves in order to improve the life of the masses in underdeveloped countries, to set them free and make them the owners of their own lives. One may also admire and feel grateful for the human rights movement under the leadership of religious figures like Martin Luther King or respond emotionally to his exquisitely filmed I have a dream in the Civil Rights Institute in Birmingham, USA. But both history and our own time present other images as well. I confine myself to just a few historical events: the compulsory conversion to Christianity of entire groups and nations, the crusades, the Inquisition, pogroms, and finally, Auschwitz. But our own times, too, are dominated by religious phenomena that one cannot simply ignore as a detached observer, as if it does not matter that Jewish settlers deprive Palestinians of their prosperity and well-being by invoking their status as God’s chosen people; American television preachers who call for God’s blessing on the tanks in Iraq to support the ‘crusade’ in that country; and Saudi Arabian imams’ prayers to end the ‘crusade’ through victory in the jihad. Does science of religion stop short at this point, because it marks the boundary between descriptive and explanatory research on the one hand and evaluative and normative research on the other? One can dodge this question for a while by pointing out that all religions have their “canonical” scriptures, traditions and doctrinal statements, which can be invoked to condemn such immoral practices. One could say that in principle every religion has a self-purificatory capacity in that it can invoke its own sources. From this insider’s point of view science of religion can contribute to criticism of such practices by pinpointing similarities and differences between the religions’ scriptural sources and their practices in the here and now.

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

103

Here the distinction between the two approaches of science of religion just mentioned should be clarified a bit further. Description and explanation of differences between sources and practices form part of science of religion according to both approaches, but describing and explaining these differences as discrepancies with a view to evaluating the practices is confined to the second approach. A university should be a université sans conditions, but not without commitments. The question then is where one finds criteria for such an evaluative commitment, which clearly is a normative question. It would be wrong to ban normativity from scientific research in order to ensure so-called neutrality. Earlier we stressed the fact that neutrality does not exist and that only the striving for impartiality as a regulative idea can exist. Besides that, the science of science offers two important insights, a cognitive and a social one. According to cognitive theory of science descriptive and explanatory research culminates in evaluative design-related research, both theoretical and practical, which in its turn contributes to description and explanation (Kuipers: 2001). According to social theory of science research is always a product of social interest regimes and always contributes to these (Kuhn: 1962; Bourdieu: 2004). Therefore, the question where one finds the criteria for evaluation is a serious one. There are three routes of solving that problem. The first is to take the criteria explicitly from the relevant sources of the religion one studies, hence not to confine oneself to describing and explaining similarities and differences between these sources and practices but to evaluate the practices normatively. But what if the sources are ambivalent, contradict each other, maybe even engage in a battle of (veiled) comments on each other? Anyone familiar with the scriptures of Judaism, Christianity and Islam will know that one cannot get anywhere without interpretations of their scriptures with due regard to the constantly changing cultural contexts in which these documents originated and their Wirkungsgeschichte. We also know that each interpretation will always evoke new, supplementary, corrective, conflicting reinterpretations. In short, one cannot avoid a conflict of interpretations (Ricoeur: 1974). If ultimately one nonetheless takes some sort of stance, however provisional, it always entails, willy-nilly, a normative choice, even if one adds with full scientific candour that one would be prepared to abandon that judgment for a better one if hitherto un-researched or new data were to cast fresh light on the issue. One could call this a normative approach from the insider perspective of the religion one studies. The second route to find criteria for normative evaluative research is to consult one’s own religion. That is the way favoured by Clooney and Ward in their respective projects of comparative theology (Clooney: 2001, 7–12; Ward: 2003). They assess the religious practices of other religions, includ-

104

Johannes A. van der Ven

ing legitimisations of these practices, by the extent to which they correspond with those of the Christian religion. Other religions are not just compared with but are actually judged by Christian standards. This is essentially the same as inclusive designs for a Christian theology of religions, whether based on christology, trinitarian doctrine, pneumatology or soteriology (Valkenberg: 2003), even if this inclusiveness is prefaced by the term “pluralist”, as in “pluralistic inclusiveness” by Ogden (1992), or the other way round, as in “inclusive pluralism” by Dupuis (1999), and even if this inclusiveness is labelled dynamic inclusiveness in contrast with static inclusiveness, meaning that a mutual learning process is involved (Nicholson: 2005). Naturally we do not dispute the right of this kind of theology, nor the right of other religions to devise their own forms of inclusive theology, such as a Muslim theology that evaluates Christianity according to Islamic criteria (Ward: 2003, 195; Kim: 2000, 9). The ideal might even be to have two (or more) inclusive theologies engage in dialogue, for instance an inclusive Christian theology entailing a comparative evaluation of Islam and an inclusive Muslim theology entailing a comparative evaluation of Christianity. It could contribute significantly to a Christian or Islamic theology of interreligious dialogue. That would require an exchange of perspectives, in which two approaches from two insider perspectives – Christian and Muslim – interact in dialogue, like in the Groupe de Recherches IslamoChrétiens (Valkenberg: 2006, 202–203). The third route – which I shall describe briefly and which I advocate, without disqualifying the other routes – stems from the question whether science of religion cannot and ought not to do more than it is doing. Apart from an approach from the insider perspective of the religion concerned (first route) and an exchange of the insider perspectives of two religions (second route), these can be augmented with an approach from a combination of the insider and outsider perspective. That is the third route, propounded by Neville in what he calls his “Comparative Religious Ideas project” (1996; 2002). The difference between this route and the previous one directly emerges from the two titles: “comparative theology” (Clooney, Ward and many others) and “comparative religious ideas project” (Neville). Since its beginning in the second half of the 19th century comparative theology is mostly Christian theology with an theological-inclusivistic, if not missionary orientation, in which the Christian insider perspective clearly dominates (Masuzawa: 2005, 72–104; Valkenberg: 2006, 193–210).20 While leaving Neville’s focus on religious ideas aside, the other approach,

20 An illustrative example for the relation between comparative theology and missiology is Exeler (1978).

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

105

“comparative religion”, aims or should aim at combining the insider and the outsider perspective, although not all projects with this or similar names achieve this aim, as we know from Eliade’s work. Inspired by Neville’s project, but more or less independently of it, I shall elaborate on it below in order to clarify its normative evaluative nature. It entails devising normative criteria that transcend, but not ignore, the insider perspectives of the two religions involved. A key premise here is what is known as the golden rule, however formulated, found in all cultures, religions and worldviews (Renteln: 1990). The literature contains long lists of versions of this rule. They range from those of ancient Egyptian religions to those of West Asia (Judaism, Christianity, Islam), South Asia (Hinduism and Buddhism) and East Asia (Confucianism). They can also be found in nonreligious worldviews such as those of the Council for Secular Humanism and the British Humanist Association.21 The golden rule occurs at various levels of abstraction. Its most concrete version is: anyone who kills a person must be killed. Note that it is phrased negatively and is tied to a specific instance: killing. At an intermediate level of abstraction it reads: counter kindness with kindness and injury with injury. At this level there is some generalisation, not just by combining a negative and a positive element, but especially because it is no longer tied to specific instances. It only speaks of kindness and injury in an abstract mode. At the highest level of abstraction its negative form reads: don’t do to others what you would not have them do to you. The positive version is: treat others as you would be treated yourself (Dihle: 1962, 80–82). At this last level there is not just a combination of a negative and a positive element and no link with specific instances but, more importantly, an exchange of perspectives. “I” am called to adopt “your” perspective, and vice versa. That explains why the golden rule occurs in all religions and worldviews. It responds to the universal human capacity to take the other’s perspective, and in so doing not merely to understand that person’s feelings, motives, intentions, ideas, beliefs and decisions in his own terms, but also to “reason” in these terms and predict the other’s feelings and thoughts. People can “read” each other’s feelings, thoughts and actions and, through reading, anticipate them. This propensity is not peripheral to what makes us human but belongs to the core of it, as is evident in the latest development in cognitive science, which regards the human mind as a social mind. Put differently, it constitutes humans as social beings, which does not detract from – indeed, is manifest in – the fact that its roots can be traced to the

21 www.religioustolerance.org/reciproc.htm; www.secularhumanism.org; http://www.humanism.org.uk/site/cms.

106

Johannes A. van der Ven

evolution of the higher animal species which, in analogous fashion, appear to have a “feeling” for each other (Darwin: 2004, 119–151; cf. Ritter: 1954, 97–102, 115–121). Why is this golden rule so important? One answer may be found in the aforementioned alternating positive and negative formulations encountered in all religions and worldviews. It has to do with the fact that people can do both good and harm to each other, can treat each other both symmetrically and asymmetrically. Symmetry stems from the fundamental equality and reciprocity between people, asymmetry from the inequality between them, the disparities in power and the threat of violence these entail. Human life is always frail, vulnerable and wounded, simply because one person’s activity implies the other’s passivity. The golden rule should be seen as one which elevates the exchange of perspectives that puts an end to asymmetry to an ethical plane. It reads: adopt each other’s perspective. It refers to the the double insider’s approach which is characteristic for the second route I mentioned. But with Kant’s categorical imperative, which may be regarded as an elaboration of the golden rule, something changes. The difference is that Kant’s categorical imperative makes the golden rule into a decentring and universalising one. It reads: Act in such a way that you always treat humanity, whether in your own person or in the person of any other, never simply as a means, but always at the same time as an end. (Kant: 1964, 96)

This statement has a decentring effect, because it no longer says “treat others as you would be treated”, but “treat neither yourself nor the other simply as a means”. The reason given for this is not egocentric, as if one should treat the other well so as to be treated well oneself (do ut des). The reason explicitly stated is that ill treatment of both self and other is counter to our humanity. Those who obey this categorical imperative no longer act egocentrically but engage in decentring (Ricoeur: 1994). In addition the exchange of perspectives is not between an “I” and a “you”, as is implied in the golden rule, but between an “I” (“your own person”) and a “he/she” (“the person of any other”). Both, “your own person” and “the person of any other”, are regarded as manifestations of the abstraction, “humanity”. This rules out selective versions of the golden rule that limit it to one’s fellow citizens, co-religionists or one’s neighbour (Lev 19:18). The categorical imperative does not only effect a decentring of the golden rule, but also its universalisation: it applies to all people in all ages and places (Ricoeur: 1992, 222). From this perspective of decentring and universalisation the golden rule has been a major source of inspiration for moral philosophy, human rights

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

107

law and jurisprudence. An example is the work of the moral and legal philosopher A. Gewirth who relates the golden rule and human rights by reformulating the golden rule in the following way: “Act in accord with the generic rights of your recipients as well as of yourself”, where generic rights are rights referring to the generic features of the human being and human action, that is freedom and well-being. Human rights should be seen as such generic rights (Gewirth: 1982, 3, 135; cf. Hübenthal: 2006, 222– 285).22 Because they, like the golden rule, transcend differences between cultures, religions and nonreligious worldviews, they can help to prevent the (supposed) clash of civilisations that besets the modern world. One could ask why it is so important to convert the golden rule, which is found in all religions and worldviews, into the terminology of Kant’s categorical imperative and human rights. Is it not in order if each religion posits and propagates its own formulation of the golden rule? Does that not have the advantage that adherents of the various religions find it easier to embrace and practise the golden rule, because it is organically linked with the myths and rites in which they engage and by which they live? The answer must be negative. The religious ideas and practices in which the golden rule is embedded in different religions may deter adherents of other faiths and nonbelievers from accepting and applying it. This applies particularly in democratic societies characterised by the separation of church and state. It would be counter to the nature of a democratic state to make the golden rule, and concomitantly the religious beliefs and practices attached to it, the basis of the state. Because they are defined in abstract terms, the categorical imperative and human rights provide a means of unifying and structuring the modern state, and can at the same time be spelled out and actualised in every religion in the way it finds appropriate in its own religious semantics and behavior. It would be structurally wrong to elevate a particular religion, or any religion at all, to the status of a privileged religion or even an established religion by favouring its golden rule and its particular mythical and ritual interpretation of that rule. Hence neither the first route (insider perspective of the religion concerned) nor the second route – that of interreligious dialogue (insider perspectives of two religions) – will do. We need a third route – one which respects the religious impartiality of the state and its public rules and at the time same offers opportunities to the various religions to concretise these rules in terms of their own traditions. In this route a twosided translation process can happen: from the golden rule within the various

22 One of Gewirth’s objections against the golden rule is that it permits subversion of the principle of justice when the person consents to be treated in a way that violates his or her rights and/or treats someone else in that way (Gewirth: 1982, 128–132).

108

Johannes A. van der Ven

religious traditions to the human rights and from the human rights again to these religious traditions (Habermas: 2005, 106–154; Brune: 2006).23 Or is all that speaking in terms of human rights just show? Anyone who is conversant with the debate on human rights will know that their universality is disputed. Are they not a Western instrument to maintain hegemony over non-Western countries – and non-Western religions (Nussbaum: 2006)? Don’t they put too much emphasis on rights and not enough on duties – duties which religions in particular underscore? Do they not put excessive accent on the individual rather than on the community and the value of engagement with the community? Do the claims of the autonomous ego not override care for the alter – which is what religions emphasise (Brune: 2006)? We have dealt with these questions elsewhere, and have explained that human rights are grounded in the universal ideas of human dignity, freedom, equality and reciprocity, despite ongoing debate on their interpretation and application (van der Ven et al.: 2004, 3–9, 141–149). Here, too, there is no getting away from the conflict of interpretations and, I would add, applications. But one important thing should be clearly taken into account. The International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (1966), which gives a detailed exposition of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (1948), describes some well-determined human rights as non-derogable rights that cannot be suspended under any circumstances, not even a national state of emergency. They include the right to life, the prohibition of torture, the prohibition of slavery, some judicial rights, the recognition of everyone as a person before the law, freedom of thought, conscience and religion, and the prohibition of discrimination on grounds of race, colour, sex, language, religion or social origin (Brownlie/Goodwin-Gill: 2002, 183–188).

Conclusion What does that imply for a normative evaluation of religions? Let me answer the question in terms of “true religion”.24 Religions guilty of violating 23 This may be seen as my contribution to the discussion with Valkenberg, who makes a plea for the dialogue between religions from their insider positions only (Valkenberg: 2006, 123). 24 In this proposition the term “true religion” implies a truth concept with three characteristics: constructivist, probabilist and approximate. Constructivist truth means that it is imbedded in implicit and explicit theoretical assumptions by those making the truth claim. Put differently, a true proposition – inasmuch as it exists – is always a version of reality whose truth value can only be tested by comparing it with other versions, but not by testing it directly with reality, for reality never presents itself other than in our versions of it (Goodman: 1978). Probabilism in this context

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

109

these rights yield a lower estimation of their proximity to “true religion” than those that honour them. Religions that accord their adherents equal treatment and champion their right to life and bodily integrity probably come closer to “true religion” than those that treat their adherents as pariahs, as happens with the Dalits in India; expose them to the risk of aids by forbidding the use of condoms, as in the Catholic Church; and seek to circumcise women against their will, as in Islamic countries. From this perspective human rights function as a universal criterion in the evaluation of religious beliefs and practices.

References ARISTOTLE (1984), Topics, in: J. Barnes (ed.), The Complete Works of Aristotle, The Revised Oxford Translation, Princeton. ASAD, T. (1993), Genealogies of Religion: Discipline and Reasons of Power in Christianity and Islam, Baltimore. ASAD, T. (2003), Formation of the Secular: Christianity, Islam, Modernity, Stanford. BARSALOU, L.W. et al. (2005), Embodiment in Religious Knowledge, Journal of Cognition and Culture 5, 1–2; 14–57. BATES, E. et al. (2002), Innateness and Emergentism, in: W. Bechtel/G. Graham (ed.), A Companion to Cognitive Science, Oxford, 590–601. BELLAH, R. (1985), Habits of the Heart: Individualism and Commitment in American Life, Berkeley. BENNET, E./HACKER, P. (2003), Philosophical Foundations of Neuroscience, Oxford. BERING, J.M. (2005), The Evolutionary History of an Illusion: Religious Causal Beliefs in Children and Adults, in: B. Ellis/D. Bjorklund (ed.), Origins of the Social Mind: Evolutionary Psychology and Child Development, New York. BERING, J.M./JOHNSON D.D. (2005), “O Lord … You Perceive my Thoughts from Afar”: Recursiveness and the Evolution of Supernatural Agency, Journal of Cognition and Culture 5, 1–2, 118–142. BOYER, P. (2001), Religion Explained. The Evolutionary Origins of Religious Thought, New York. BOURDIEU, P. (2004), Science of Science and Reflexivity, Cambridge. BROWNLIE, I./GOODWIN-GILL, G. (ed.) (2002), Basic Documents on Human Rights, Oxford. BRUNE, G. (2006), Menschenrechte und Menschenrechtsethos: Zur Debatte um eine Ergänzung der Menschenrechte durch Menschenpflichten, Stuttgart. BULBULIA, J. (2005), Are there Any Religions? An Evolutionary Exploration, Method and Theory in the Study of Religion 17, 71–100. CANNON, D. (1996), Six Ways of Being Religious: A Framework for Comparatives Studies of Religion, Belmont. CARMAN, J./HOPKINS, S. (ed.) (1991), Tracing Common Themes: Comparative Courses in the Study of Religion, Atlanta.

means that truth is based on an estimate (Wentzel van Huyssteen: 1999). Approximation implies that there is no absolute truth, only approximations of it that vary in their closeness to or remoteness from the truth (Kuipers: 2001), whereby truth is to be found according to the epistemological principle of charity (Wils: 2006).

110

Johannes A. van der Ven

CHURCHLAND, P. (1995), The Engine of Reason, The Seat of Soul. A Philosophical Journey into the Brain, Cambridge. CLOONEY, F.X. (2001), Hindu God, Christian God: How Reason Breaks Down the Boundaries between Religions, Oxford. CROMBIE, A. (1994), Styles of Scientific Thinking in the European Tradition. The History of Argument and Explanation in the Mathematical and Biomedical Sciences and Arts, vol. I–III, London. CURTIS, E. (1984), Man as the Image of God in Genesis in the Light of Ancient Near Eastern Parallels, Ann Arbor. DALFERTH, I. (2001), Theologie im Kontext der Religionswissenschaft, ThLZ 126, 4–20. DALFERTH, I. (2003), Die Wirklichkeit des Möglichen, Tübingen. DAMASIO, A. (1994), Descartes’ Error. Emotion, Reason, and the Human Brain, New York. DAMASIO, A. (2000), The Feeling of What Happens. Body and Emotion in the Making of Consciousness, New York. DAMASIO, A. (2003), Looking for Spinoza. Joy, Sorrow and the Feeling Brain, London. DARWIN, C. (2004), The Descent of Man, London. DAVIDSON, D. (2001), Inquiries into Truth and Interpretation, Oxford. DAY, M. (2005), The Undiscovered and Undiscoverable Essence: Species and Religion after Darwin, JR 85, 58–82. DEACON, T. (1997), The Symbolic Species. The Co-Evolution of Language and the Brain, New York. DIHLE, A. (1962), Die Goldene Regel, Göttingen. DERRIDA, J. (2001), Université sans condition, Paris. DREHSEN, V. (1988), Neuzeitlichte Konstitutionsbedingungen der Praktischen Theologie. Aspekte der theologischen Wende zur sozialkulturellen Lebenswelt christlicher Religion, Gütersloh. DUPUIS, J. (1999), The Truth Will Make You Free, LouvSt 24, 211–263. EDWARDS, R.B. (1972), Reason and Religion, New York. ESSEN, G. (2001), Die Freiheit Jesu, Regensburg. ESSEN, G. (2005), ‘Wie observeert religies?’ De verhouding van godsdienstwetenschappen en theologie in tijden van terreur, TTh 45, 168–188. FARTHING, G. (1992), The Psychology of Consciousness, Englewood Cliffs. FLOOD, G. (1999), Beyond Phenomenology. Rethinking the Study of Religion, London/New York. FOUCAULT, M. (1989), Parresia. Vrijmoedig spreken en waarheid, Boom. FREIDENREICH, D. (2004), Comparisons Compared, Method and Theory in the Study of Religion 16, 80–101. GEWIRTH, A. (1982), Human Rights. Essays on Justification and Applications, Chicago. GOODMAN, N. (1978), Ways of Worldmaking, Indianapolis. HAARSMA, F. et al. (1970), Kirchliche Lehre, Skepsis der Gläubigen, Freiburg. HABERMAS, J. (2003), Zeitdiagnosen. Zwölf Essays 1980–2001, Frankfurt/Main. HABERMAS, J. (2005), Zwischen Naturalismus und Religion, Frankfurt/Main. HASELAGER, W. (1997), Cognitive Science and Folk Psychology, London. HEADLAND, T. (1990), Introduction: A Dialogue Between Kenneth Pike and Marvin Harris on Emics and Etics, in: T. Headland/K. Pike/M. Harris (ed.), The Insider/Outsider Debate, London. HERMANS, H./KEMPEN, H. (1998), Moving Cultures, AmPs 53, 1111–1120. HERMANS, C. (2004), Empirische theologie vanuit praktische rationaliteit in religieuze praktijken, Nijmegen. HICK, J. (1989), An Interpretation of Religion. Human Responses to the Transcendent, New Haven. HOLDREGE, B. (1996), Veda and Torah. Transcending the Textuality of Scripture, New York. HÜBENTHAL, C. (2006), Grundlegung der christlichen Sozialethik. Versuch eines freiheitsanalytisch-handlungsreflexiven Ansatzes, Münster. IZARD, C.E. ET AL. (ed.) (1993), Emotions, Cognition, and Behavior, Cambridge. JANSSEN, J. (1988), De jeugd, de toekomst en de religie, Jeugd en samenleving 18, 407–426.

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

111

JENSEN, J. (1999), On a Semantic Definition of Religion, in: J. Platvoet/A. Molendijk (ed.), The Pragmatics of Defining Religion, Leiden, 409–431. JENSEN, J. (2003), The Study of Religion in a New Key. Theoretical and Philosophical Soundings in the Comparative and General Study of Religion, Aarhuis. KALBERG, S. (2001), Einführung in die historisch-vergleichende Soziologie Max Webers, Wiesbaden. KANT, I. (1964), Groundwork of the Metaphysics of Morals, New York. KIM, H. (2000), Prolegomena to a Christian Theology of Religions, New York. KUHN, T. (1962), The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, Chicago. KUIPERS, T. (2001), Structures in Science, Heuristic Patterns Based on Cognitive Structures, Dordrecht. KUITERT, H. (1972), Waarheid en verificatie in de dogmatiek, Rondom het woord 14, 97–130. KUITERT, H. (1977), Wat heet geloven? Structuur en herkomst van de christelijke geloofsuitspraken, Baarn. KWA, C. (2005), De ontdekking van het weten. Een andere geschiedenis van de wetenschap, Amsterdam. LAKOFF, G. (1987), Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things. What Categories Reveal about the Mind, Chicago. LAKOFF, G./JOHNSON, M. (1980), Metaphors we live by, Chicago. LETT, J. (1990), Emics and Etics: Notes on the Epistemology of Anthropology, in: T. Headland/ K. Pike/M. Harris (ed.), The Insider/Outsider Debate, London, 127–142. LINCOLN, B. (1996), Theses on Method, Method and Theory in the Study of Religion 8, 225–227. LINCOLN, B. (1999), Theorizing Myth: Narrative, Ideology, and Scholarship, Chicago. LUHMANN, N. (1977), Funktion der Religion, Frankfurt/Main. LUHMANN, N. (1998), Die Gesellschaft der Gesellschaft, Frankfurt/Main. MASUZAWA, T. (2005), The Invention of World Religions. Or, How European Universalism Was Preserved in the Language of Pluralism, Chicago. MACALLISTER, J. (2002), Historical and Structural Approaches in the Natural and Human Sciences, in: P. Tindemans et al. (ed.), The Future of the Sciences and the Humanities, Amsterdam, 19–54. MCCUTCHEON, R. (1996), Manufacturing Religion, New York/Oxford. NEVILLE, R. (1996), The Truth of Broken Symbols, New York. NEVILLE, R. (ed.) (2001), Religious Truth. A Volume in the Comparative Religious Ideas Project, New York. NEVILLE, R. (2002), Religion in Late Modernity, New York. NICHOLSON, H. (2005), A Correlational Model of Comparative Theology, JR 85, 191–213. NUSSBAUM, M. (2006), Frontiers of Justice. Disability, Nationality, Species Membership, Cambridge. OGDEN, S. (1992), Is there Only One True Religion or are there Many?, Dallas. PALS, D. (1996), Seven Theories of Religion, New York. PLATVOET, J. (1999), Contexts, Concepts & Contests: Towards a Pragmatics of Defining ‘Religion’, in: J. Platvoet/A. Molendijk (ed.), The Pragmatics of Defining Religion: Contexts, Concepts and Contests, Leiden, 463–516. PLATVOET, J. (2002), Pillars, Pluralisme and Secularisation: A Social History of Dutch Sciences of Religions, in: G. Wiegers/J. Platvoet (ed.), Modern Societies & the Science of Religions, Leiden, 82–148. PLATVOET, J./MOLENDIJK, A. (ed.) (1999), The Pragmatics of defining Religion. Contexts, Concepts and Contests, Leiden. POPPER K. (1976), Unended Quest, London. POPPER, K. (1983), Objective Knowledge. An Evolutionary Aproach, rev. ed., Oxford. POPPER, K./ECCLES, J. (2003), The Self and Its Brain. An Argument for Interactionism, London. PYYSIÄINEN, I. (2004), Intuitive and Explicit in Religious Thought, Journal of Cognition and Culture 4, 123–150.

112

Johannes A. van der Ven

RAWLS, J. (1971), A Theory of Justice, Cambridge. RENTELN, A. (1990), International Human Rights. Universalism Versus Relativism, London. RICOEUR, P. (1974), The Conflict of Interpretations. Essays in Hermeneutics, Evanston. RICOEUR, P. (1992), Oneself as Another, Chicago. RICOEUR, P. (1994), Lectures 3. Auf frontières de la philosophie, Paris. RICOEUR, P. (1995), Figuring the sacred. Religion, Narrative and Imagination, Minneapolis. RICOEUR, P. (2000), La mémoire, l’histoire, l’oubli, Paris. ROY, O. (2004), Globalized Islam, New York. RITTER, W.E. (1954), Charles Darwin and the Golden Rule. Complied and ed. by E.W. Baily, New York. ROBERTS, T. (2005), Rhetorics of Ideology and Criticism in the Study of Religion, JR 85, 367–389. RYBA, T. (2000), Manifestation, in: W. Braun/R.T. McCutcheon (ed.), Guide to the Study of Religion, London/New York, 168–189. SATLOW, M. (2005), Disappearing Categories: Using Categories in the Study of Religion, Method and Theory in the Study of Religion 17, 287–298. SCHILBRACK, K.K. (2005), Religion, Models of, and Reality: Are We Through with Geertz?, JAAR 73, 429–452. SCHILLEBEECKX, E. (1964), Openbaring en theologie, Bilthoven. SCHILLEBEECKX, E. (1994), Breuken in de christelijke dogma’s, Breuklijnen. Grenservaringen en zoektochten, Baarn, 15–50. SCHOONENBERG, P. (1968), Historiciteit en interpretatie van het dogma, TTh 8, 294–311. SLONE, D. (2004), Theological Incorrectness, Oxford. SMART, N. (1996), Dimensions of the Sacred: An Anatomy of the World’s Beliefs, Berkeley. SMITH, J. (1982), Imagining Religion. From Babylont o Jonestown, Chicago. SMITH, J. (1990), Drudgery Divine. On the Comparision of Early Christianities and the Religions of Late Antiquity, London. SMITH, J. (1998), Religion, Religions, Religious, in: M. Taylor (ed.), Critical Terms for Religious Studies, Chicago. SMITH, J. (2004), Relating Religion. Essays in the Study of Religion, Chicago. SMITH, M. (2004), The Polemic of Biblical Monotheism, in: T. Hettema/A. van der Kooij (ed.), Religious Polemics in Context, Assen. SPRANGER, E. (1964), Der Sinn der Voraussetzungslosigkeit in den Geisteswissenschaften, Heidelberg. TAYLOR, M. (ed.), (1998), Critical Terms for Religious Studies, Chicago. THAGARD, P. (2005), The Emotional Coherence of Religion, Journal of Cognition and Culture 5, 58–74. TRACY, D. (1986), The Analogical Imagination, New York. TROELTSCH, E. (1912), Gesammelte Schriften, vol. 2, Tübingen. VALKENBERG, P. (2003), God ademt overall: Mogelijkheden en grenzen van een trinitaire theologie van de godsdiensten, TTh 43, 166–190. VALKENBERG, P. (2006), Sharing Lights On the Way to God. Muslim-Christian Dialogue and Theology in the Context of Abrahamic Partnership, Amsterdam. VAN DERVEN, J.A. (1987), Religie tussen Oost en West, Baarn. VAN DER VEN, J.A. (1993), Practical Theology: An Empirical Approach, Kampen/Leuven. VAN DER VEN, J.A. (1998), God Reinvented. A Theological Search in Texts and Tables, Leiden. VAN DER VEN, J.A (2001), Van een Faculteit der Theologie naar een Faculteit der Religiewetenschappen, Kamper Oraties 49, Kampen. VAN DER VEN, J.A. (2002), Theologie beoefenen in een faculteit voor religiewetenschappen, TTh 42, 244–267. VAN DER VEN, J.A. (2004), Towards a Comparative Empirical Theology of Mindful Action, in: C. Hermans/M. Moore (ed.), Hermeneutics and Empirical Research in Practical Theology. The Contribution of Empirical Theology by Johannes A. van der Ven, Leiden, 331–388.

Reflective Comparativism in Religious Research

113

VEN, J.A. (2005a), De relatie van theologie en religiewetenschap in een vergelijkende wetenschapsbeoefening, TTh 45, 119–137. VAN DER VEN, J.A. (2005b), Unterwegs zu einer vergleichenden empirischen Theologie, in: D. Nauer et al. (ed.), Praktische Theologie, Stuttgart, 244–254. VAN DER VEN, J.A./SCHERER–RATH, M. (2004), Normativity and Empirical Research in Theology, Leiden. VOSMAN, F. (2006), Het ‘samenwonen’ van katholieke thelogie en godsdienstwetenschap, TTh 46, 101–112. VROOM, H. (1989), Religions and the Truth, Grand Rapids. WARD, K. (2003), A Guide for the Perplexed, in: T. Bartel (ed.), Comparative Theology. Essays for Heith Ward, London, 190–198. WATTLES, J. (1996), The Golden Rule, New York. WEBER, M. (1980), Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft, Tübingen. WENTZEL VAN HUYSSTEEN, J. (1999), The Shaping of Rationality, Toward Interdisciplinarity in Theology and Science, Grand Rapids. WIEBE, D. (2002), Promise and Disappointment: Recent Developments in the Academic Study of Religion in the USA, in: G. Wiegers/J. Platvoet (ed.), Modern Societies & the Science of Religions, Leiden, 185–222. WIEGERS, G. (2005), Afscheid van het methodlogisch agnosticisme?, TTh 45, 153–167. WILS, J.-P. (2006), Nachsicht. Studien zu einer ethisch-hermeneutischen Basiskategorie, Paderborn. WINTER, S.L. (2001), A Clearing in the Forest. Law, Life and Mind, Chicago. VAN DER

Otherness in an Embodied Church The Impact of Phenomenology in the Study of Christian Social Service TRYGVE WYLLER University of Oslo, Norway

1. Introduction The recognition of the different other is at the centre of contemporary ethics. How are we to discover the other at all, and how are we to discover the other as Other, and not only as some harmonic same? Such questions are on the agenda in most current ethical and theological discussions. In this article I will give some comments to the discussion of otherness by way of methodology. The thesis is that phenomenological approaches will give a more fundamental discovery of the ethical other. In addition I think that phenomenology also opens up for important ecclesiological perspectives. Empirical approaches and methods are on the increase in the research of Christian social practice. There is no doubt that this kind of research has contributed to fruitful interpretations of what a Christian social practice is about. Empirical studies give us a richer understanding of the social aspects of Christian practice. From a methodological perspective, however, there are challenges arising from the use of classical empirical research in the field of Christian social practice. In 1956 the Danish theologian and philosopher, K.E. Løgstrup published the original Danish version of his book The Ethical Demand. This was not a book on methodology. But Løgstrup’s intention was to contribute to the ethical discussion. His thesis was that every man “carried” the other in his or her hand. This was a thesis strongly influenced by phenomenology. From phenomenology Løgstrup learnt that intersubjectivity was crucial. My thesis, therefore, is that empirical studies of Christian social practice should also be more developed with the insights won by this kind of phenomenology. Taking up influences from phenomenological empirical research opens up for interesting interpretations of Christian social practice in the context of the contemporary discussions on methodology, theology and ethics.

116

Trygve Wyller

2. The Theory and the Case The classical starting point for a discussion of the impact of phenomenology for the study of social practice is still the pioneer work by A. Schütz. Schütz’ definition of how we are to understand what a social action is also contributes substantially to the current discussion of methods of the interpretation of Christian social practice. The main argument for re-establishing an old position like Schütz’ is the implicit and explicit view of man which dominates his thinking. I think that it is exactly the question of man, which surprisingly often has been left out of the discussions of Christian social practice. Either one has presented a heavily loaded theological interpretation leaving the empirical study of what really took place out. Or one has reacted to the monopoly of theology by establishing the monopoly of classical empirical methods, but often then leaving more critical questions of what man is, out of focus. This is why a new discussion of methods and theories in the study of Christian social practice is so important. I think the phenomenological interpretation of man in the thinking of Schütz and the slightly younger M. Merleau-Ponty is an important contribution to the ethical and theological discussion of Christian social practice. I will elaborate on this by using three short cases, all discovered through short fieldwork periods among religiously motivated work for homeless people in central London a few years ago. The first case tells the story of Jim, a homeless participant in a drama group, the second and third give some glimpses from the festival Ten Feet Away. Festival of Homeless Arts, which took place in northern London a few years ago. The way I use the short cases is also interesting from the point of view of method. A bottom line position in this article is that normative and dogmatic arguments should develop in a much more inductive way. It belongs to the phenomenological tradition to develop what Merleau-Ponty, with a marvelous expression, called the “practognosis”, the understanding based on the study of what takes place in life worlds. But, as I shall show in these case studies and their interpretation, the basic question is really “what takes place”. This is the point where there are significant differences between classical empirical studies and phenomenology. Empirical sociology often disregards phenomenology when it comes to the questions of verification and evidence based knowledge. But in phenomenology there are some methodological preconditions which cannot be left out. And these preconditions are most of all connected to intersubjectivity. People belong to each other. An action is only sufficiently presented if it gives account of what this intersubjectivity means for the persons involved in it. Løgstrup used this as his basic argu-

Otherness in an Embodied Church

117

ment in the discussion of the ethical demand. But the argument was not new. It belonged to the core insights of phenomenology. The question was, however, how one should use these insights in more empirically grounded research. The phenomenologist Schütz is often recognized as the first to develop phenomenology as a grounding for empirical research. In my context Schütz’ theory of the social action is particularly important. Through the argument in this theory Schütz opens the discussion of the phenomenology of the social. We cannot understand an action without understanding the fact that it is also social means.

3. The Phenomenology of the “Social Action” Schütz established his position in a detailed discussion with M. Weber’s theories of a meaningful action. Being one of E. Husserl’s leading pupils, Schütz develops his arguments in the typical manner of a rather technical phenomenological vocabulary. In my context much of this vocabulary and the historical setting for it, is not so important. But what still remains important is his permanent defense of the intersubjectivity of a social action. This is the central point: Suppose, for instance, that I act toward the other person as if he were surely a physical thing, paying no attention to his subjective experiences as another self. My own conscious experiences accompanying my action are here not, following the above definition, intentionally directed toward the other self. My action, therefore, is in this case no social action. (Schütz: 1972, 145)

An action can only be understood as social when it implies connectedness and intersubjectivity. The interpretation of an action is only an adequate interpretation if it takes what Schütz calls the “Other-orientation” of an action into consideration (Schütz: 1972, 146). An act which does not have such an “Other-orientation” is, therefore, not a social action. And that also implies that an interpretation, which does not take the Other-interpretation of the action into consideration, cannot be an interpretation of a social action. On the other hand, to use the vocabulary of Schütz once more: “What makes my behavior social is the fact that its intentional object is the expected behavior of another person” (Schütz: 1972, 149). So the point of every feature of Schütz thinking in this discussion is the concept of intentionality. The lack of M. Weber’s meaning-oriented sociology was the lack of taking intentionality into consideration. Intentionality is one of the central concepts in the radical philosophy of Husserl, and Schütz’ contribution is to introduce the philosophical concept of intentionality as a

118

Trygve Wyller

basic concept for the sociological study of actions. For Husserl intentionality meant that one could never interpret anything without reflecting that the other thing, idea or phantasy is always part of my perception and is never to be thought of as something completely other. Therefore intentionality covers the experience that my consciousness is always a consciousness about something. There is always intentionality. This is the elementary basic knowledge of phenomenology, which has dominated 20th century philosophy and theology. The famous statement by R. Bultmann: One cannot talk about God, without talking about man, and one cannot talk about man without talking about God, could not have been formulated without this inspiration from fundamental phenomenology, even if Bultmann did draw more from Heidegger, than from Husserl himself. The significance of Schütz, therefore, is to have started the discussion on how intentionality could also be a meaningful concept for the interpretation of society, and not only for existential philosophy. What he aims at, is a deeper understanding of what it means to call an action “social”. This term cannot just be used of any action which takes place in society. “Social” is a qualitative term, that is only to be used in contexts where there is a real, simultaneous, intersubjectivity taking place. One thing is an act, being launched because of “someone else’s behaviour”. Something very different is an act whose “intentional object is the expected behavior of another person”. It is clearly only the latter that deserves the notion “social”. Therefore, for Schütz, the notion “social” must be reserved for these actions alone, which simultaneously include an other, and which could not be described without such an involvement. Basically, these are the actions, which have meaning in the strict form of the word. The term “understanding” (German Verstehen) must, according to Schütz (and Husserl) be reserved to the interpretation of such social actions. Understanding is not possible without taking the other person, the other person affected by the action, into consideration. The classic example used by Schütz to illustrate what he means by understanding is the woodcutter-case. For my purpose this case brilliantly addresses the actual discussion. There are, in principle, two ways of perceiving and understanding what woodcutting is about. The first way (should we say “method”? ) is, to use Schütz’ vocabulary; “we are noticing only the ‘external event’, the ax slicing the tree and the wood splitting into bits, which ensues”. But this is, according to Schütz, no understanding; “[…] the observer in our case, does not yet perceive the woodcutter, but only that wood is being cut, and he ‘understands’ the perceived sequence of events as ‘woodcutting’” (Schütz: 1972, 110). But this is not understanding, it is nothing else than seeing the outward side of some actions. In Schütz’ Husserl-based vocabulary, the alternative to this obser-

Otherness in an Embodied Church

119

vation from the outside, must be relatedness to the inside of the woodcutter. Not so much in the sense of the inner psychology of the woodcutter, but in the intersubjectivity between the woodcutter and the observer of the woodcutter. Understanding has to do with involvement and engagement: Rather, the outward facts and bodily movements are understood as indications (Anzeichen) of the lived experiences of the person being observed. The attention of the observer is focused not on the indications, but on what lies behind them. This is genuine understanding of the other person. (Schütz: 1972, 111)

This article is not the place to take up the discussion of Schütz’ focusing of “consciousness”, which is at the centre of the current critique of phenomenology. In the context of this article the important point is not whether Schütz’ use of consciousness and eagerness to understand the “inner experiences” of the other is adequate today or not. Schütz’ contribution is his insistence on understanding as implying involvement of what it means that something is social. If we do not grasp the intersubjectivity of social actions, we do not have a satisfactory understanding of the difference between what happens in society and what happens in natural science. It is this position which I think is of fundamental importance for the development of the studies of Christian social practice. These studies must aim at an understanding of the intentionality of social actions in Christian social practice, parallel to the analysis, which Schütz initiated three generations ago.

4. Jim’s Story The protagonist of the first story is Jim. I met him for the first time in the institution called The Passage, close to Victoria Station, London. The Passage is run by an order of catholic sisters, who together with professionals and volunteer staff have built up one of the biggest services for the London homeless with soup kitchen, housing, night shelter, education training, etc. Once a week there are also several group activities: painting, IT, the 50+ group, and the drama group. The instructors in the drama group belong to The Streetwise Opera, seemingly a group of idealistic young London actors, wanting to participate in social care for the London homeless. It is not particularly easy work as the participants sometimes differ from week to week. The Streetwise Opera people return every week, but the homeless sometimes come and sometimes not. It takes a lot of patience and wisdom to lead such a group. But as I will demonstrate, this is a practice with both wise leaders and wise participants.

120

Trygve Wyller

One day the main order of business was to come up with a title for a forthcoming improvisatory production and to go through some ideas for the improvisations. It was important to the two leaders not to dominate the discussion. They themselves had no opinions as to what the production should be called or what topics it should address; instead they sought to encourage a free and open conversation about these matters. What ensued was an unfettered exchange in which the members of the group suggested the themes of homelessness, death, and loneliness. At one point during the meeting, one of the participants suggested the sexual abuse of children as a possible topic of improvisation. The two leaders had no strong objections, and several of the clients thought that this was a worthwhile subject. Many of them had their own experiences in this area, and considered it an important issue to air openly. But one member, Jim, disagreed. He regarded the theme as too edgy. He worried that such an improvisation would hit too close to home for some members of the audience, who might find themselves reliving unpleasant memories. His demurral received unexpected support from two of the others, B and C, both of whom felt that a dramatization of physical abuse might be too violent and disturbing for some. And so the group made the decision. The theme sexual abuse of children is too much, both for group members and for the audience. They dropped the theme and started a discussion.

5. “Social Action” in the Story of Jim Schütz focuses on two levels when he discusses the meaning of the term social action. One level is the level of observation as in the woodcuttercase. Here the interest is to understand an action which one person observes. The challenge is to understand the action in a different way than natural science would have explained it. It is only by including the meaning of intentionality that Schütz considers the concept social action is appropriate. In the story of Jim, this first level is the level in which I, the observer, present Jim’s story to my readers or listeners. In what way do I live up to the criteria established for what a social action is? The rather “objective” way I have presented the story above, is really not a presentation including either myself or Jim’s “the inner experiences”. The story is more like the woodcutter-case of Schütz, objective, no emotions, only the actions proper, etc. It is understandable why I have chosen this ascetics of story-telling. The goal is to present “what happened” as simple as possible, in order to let the readers be informed in a way that is quick and to the point. But by focusing only on this, the cost is high. Leaving out my

Otherness in an Embodied Church

121

own strong emotions, in observing the event and also by leaving out most of the possible “inner experiences” of Jim, I have not given a true empirical presentation of “what happened”. There is more happening than the observation method can grasp. Perhaps the most significant social action in this perspective, was the challenge and emotion the story evoked in me. I was moved, and I was changed, by these words and these bodies. So social action must be an action where emotions, changes and connectedness are part of the action and must be narrated in order to narrate a social action. The other level is the level of the action itself. In what way can one say that the different participants in an action recognize each other as partners in a social action, and in what way do their actions reflect such recognition? This level is the level where one focuses on the relations between the participants in the story. In this specific case, the participants are of course Jim’s friends, both in the exercising drama group and outside it. But the participants are also the two drama instructors who played an important part in the development of the story. The decisive element for establishing the action as a social action on this level is the relation between the drama instructors and Jim. According to Schütz a social action counts as such only when it includes an other. This means that the instructor’s behavior towards Jim is decisive. If they choose to give priority to the initially discussed motive – sexual abuse of children – they might probably have won the discussion in the group, but the group would not have performed a social action. By including Jim’s reaction and accepting it as part of the group development, they acted with the implicit understanding of this situation as a social action. The meaning of the story was not the subject matter of the discussion itself, whether the staging of sexual abuse was appropriate for the group and its audience or not. What makes the story a story of social action, is the way the instructors listen to Jim, relate to his story and accept a change of motive for the planned performance. The action becomes social because the instructors give importance to more than the subject discussed. This action is social when the instructors admit that both Jim and the motive which Jim discusses, are part of the action. It is not only the motive alone, that is important and decisive in the case. By implicitly understanding both the motive and Jim as participants in the action, the action becomes a social action. Or, to use the vocabulary of Schütz: Rather, the outward facts and bodily movements are understood as indications (Anzeichen) of the lived experiences of the person being observed. The attention of the observer is focused not on the indications, but on what lies behind them. This is genuine understanding of the other person. (Schütz: 1972, 111)

122

Trygve Wyller

6. The Festival of Homeless Arts The second story comes out of Jim’s story, but happened nearly two years later when The Streetwise Opera performed in The Festival of Homeless Arts, which took place in Northern London in 2004. The festival lasted several days and included different kinds of performances, organized activities, exhibitions, etc. The building, in which the festival happened, was part of an enormous church. The community rooms in the old church were the festivals context. In this festival, I surprisingly met The Streetwise Opera once more, this time showing one of the performances which they had rehearsed in the Passage months before. Jim was not present this evening, but many of the other participants and leaders were. To me it was a confirmation of the choice they had made the first time I met them. The Streetwise Opera was still a social action. The actual performance that evening had nothing at all to do with incest. The Streetwise Opera gave us one hour of evergreens and classical songs from the London musical scene. The group members enjoyed the performance themselves and the audience gave them the warmest applause. The same evening there was, however, one more group performing in the festival. The Streets Alive Theatre Company is also a group with professional leaders and participants mostly from the streets. Still, the difference between this group and The Streetwise Opera is evident. The importance is in the message. The aim of the group is to convince young people in schools and institutions not to use drugs and not to develop a life on the street. The Streets Alive Theatre Company is first of all a group aiming at its moral message.

7. Social Action as Participation Summing up the analysis of these cases, we have an illustration of what a social action is. Social action is an empirical event where the event is described with the focus on both participants in the event. If the focus of the event is not focussing on the experience of them both, the presentation is not a presentation of a social action. This is also the basis for the analysis of the successful performance. The joy of participation was the most evident part of it. Now, Schütz’ point is that this participative element in the action is the mark of its being a social action. In the language of methodology, the participation is the social action as an empirical fact. In other words, not to present the joy of participation in The Streetwise Opera would have been not to have presented the event in the way it really took place. You cannot

Otherness in an Embodied Church

123

present events like these and not present the involvement the actors in the action have with each other. If you do that, you do not present a social action. Schütz calls this participatory aspect of a social action its “Otherorientation” (Schütz: 1972, 148ff). The point is once again, that Schütz’ intention is not to give a kind of super-empirical reflection, presenting an action even more accurately than any other empirical method can hope to achieve. No, Schütz’ arguments aim at an understanding of what it means to describe/present an action if we take the intersubjectivity of the action into account. The aim is to see which parts of the action seem relevant in such a case. And therefore he comes up with the term Other-orientation. Along the same lines is the more technical proposition: “What makes my behavior social is the fact that its intentional object is the expected behavior of another person” (Schütz: 1972, 149). Therefore one must present an action according to the way this action contains one person who has his or her attention directed towards another person. If the action does not have such behavior as a central content, then the action is not social. In my vocabulary, this is the qualified description of what I above called participation. And it gives me one more argument to see The Streetwise Opera as a participatory action. Each of the participants seemed to have many of the other participants in the performance as their “intentional object”. I admit that this is only based on my own observation, and therefore is both subjective and open for discussion. But the whole argument does not collapse if my observation later on turns out to be false, and that none of the participants in the performance had any kind of intentional object in any of the other participants. Of course, this could be the case, and the whole observation is open for such a discussion. But this discussion can do nothing else than correct my observation. It cannot rule out Schütz’ basic approach. His argument aims at the distinction between a social action and an action, which is not possible to call social. A not social action is, among other things, an action that is only “affected by others”. Schütz claims that an “action affected by another” is “an action motivated in a genuine “becausefashion”. It is possible to use The Street Alive Theatre Company as a case for the action “affected by another”. From the observation of the performance it was obvious that the event was designed to affect others, not primarily to be a social action in the way Schütz understands it. The direct involvement in another person’s life in the same moment as the action takes place is the decisive criteria for an action being social. The Streets Alive Theatre was obviously aiming at affecting the audience, especially the young audience. The young teenagers were to be warned about the dangers of drugs and prostitution. This is, of course, a respectable motive for some kind of performances, but it does not fill the

124

Trygve Wyller

criteria for being a social action. The dominance of instrumentalism in the action reduces it as a social action. It is no longer participation and intersubjectivity, which is the action’s goal, but has a more evident intention. To use Schütz’ technical language a last time: However, if I look for the because-motive, then my action was already projected before I performed an Act of orientation toward another person. But this action is for just that reason not an Other-oriented Act and is therefore not social behaviour. (Schütz: 1972, 149)

In other words, Schütz’ phenomenology of the social world, opens the door to a more detailed and richer analysis of which part of the empirical action is important if we are to see an action as really social in a phenomenological perspective. The analysis is intentionally based on subjective observation, but it is no naïve way of observation. On the contrary, the basic contribution from Schütz is to give a theory and a vocabulary for the elaboration of an alternative empirical approach to any kind of social practice. This should be seriously taken into account in the future study of Christian social practice, as a practical basis for participation and intersubjectivity. Schütz teaches us to understand what this could mean, from an empirical point of view. It goes without saying that this way of focusing on the importance of social action as participation will have a significant impact, both on the normative and theological interpretation of any kind of Christian social practice. As mentioned above, this is a discussion I will comment on in the concluding part of this article.

8. The Two Church Rooms There is, however, one more aspect which I would like to discuss from The Festival of Homeless Arts. This aspects concerns the spacing of the festival and leads to a discussion of the importance of space in an empirical phenomenology. The Festival of Homeless Art seems to take up the same traditional approach to homeless people, which we have seen since the time of Charles Dickens. Religious individuals from the middle class take care of the homeless within a context of mercy and philanthropy. We do something for them. We are the core community and they are the outsiders invited in to us. But The Festival of Homeless Art is not that traditional at all. The core community in the Union Chapel, Highbury Corner, was more or less absent from the festival. That was manifested in a concrete way with deep metaphorical and ecclesiological importance. The festival itself took place

Otherness in an Embodied Church

125

within the physical church building called the Union Chapel. But the building itself houses both an enormous church room and lots of community rooms. The festival was using the community rooms and not the church room. In fact, you could only reach the church room through a corridor in the community department. But during the festival the door between the church room and the community part was physically locked. When I asked one of the volunteers in the festival if I could see the church room he took me down the corridor, looked through all his keys, and let me into the room, promising to collect me again five minutes later. To me this is a very promising and paradoxical symbol. The Festival of Homeless Art is from one perspective traditional ecclesiology. “We” do something for “Them”. But looking more closely at the object, the whole situation changes. The traditional “We’s” are not there any more. They have literally closed the door and left the building. Another church is rising and developing from the community centre. It is still church, but the “Them’s” participate in a very different way. We should ask ourselves, what kind of church is this? The obvious thing is of course that the diaconal initiative has moved from the mother church into some other kind of church, physically located in the community centre. The “Them’s” are included and have become the new “We”! This is of course evident and important from an ecclesiological perspective. But this is also a good starting point for a more focused discussion of phenomenology.

9. Social Action as Embodied Space The challenge for a phenomenological approach to an event like the one described above is to give a presentation of it so that the fundamental experience of inclusion is mirrored more substantially. Moving from the position of Schütz to the phenomenological thinking of Maurice Merleau-Ponty, a good starting point is the phenomenon of space. It is obvious and a kind of banality that the homelessness art festival takes place in a room. It is not so evident that this room is a room which is not self-evident for the participants. This experience of a new room, which many of the participants seldom enter, is decisive for a phenomenological interpretation. Phenomenology in the Merleau-Ponty tradition pays significant attention to sense experiences. The fundamental postulate is that the body senses the world around it and is put into a being-in-the-world context before the more reflective part of the consciousness starts working. This is what MerleauPonty calls the pre-reflective part of cognition. This is something which one does not choose to have or not to have. The body senses the world and

126

Trygve Wyller

therefore the sensed world is given to us before we start reflection. Reflection is therefore not a way to construct the world. Reflection is more a way to reflect on what is already given. And what is given is the body and the world given though the senses. Therefore the basic postulate of this phenomenological tradition is the pregivenness of the world and the challenge for thought to reflect this pregivenness. For by reflecting on pregivennness and not leaving it, MerleauPonty wants to eliminate the tendency to objectify human beings. Human beings cannot be described as if they do not already live in the pregiven sensed world. So instead of mirroring persons as if the physical world and the human world are in a way separated, what Merleau-Ponty aims at is a description that shows the unity of these two worlds. The human being and the surrounding world are not subject and object. The human is therefore also not an object for another human, because the other human already exists as perceived pregiven for me. This is therefore a kind of approach to the problem of otherness which is different from the current discussion, introduced by scholars like Levinas and Derrida. The ethical demand in the phenomenology of Merleau-Ponty could be said to be the demand to picture the other as an embodied person already being-in-the-world: We must therefore avoid saying that our body is in space and time. It inhabits space and time. If my hand traces a complicated path through the air, I do not need, in order to know its final position, to add together all movements made in the opposite direction. (Merleau-Ponty: 2002, 161)

This is why Merleau-Ponty claims that he is developing a new kind of empirical research. It would be wrong to call this approach a method in the strict and current sense of this word. But there is no doubt about the intention. Through phenomenology one reaches towards a true interpretation of what it means to be in the world. The truth is, as already said: You are not in the room, you live there. So the room and the person cannot be depicted as parts, one at the time. The challenge is to give an interpretation where the living in the room is depicted. When it succeeds, this would be true empirical research. This has, of course, concrete implications when it comes to The Festival of Homeless Art. How are we to give a more accurate phenomenological description of this event, giving truth to this starting point: I am not in space and time, nor do I conceive space and time; I belong to them, my body combines with them and includes them […] Our bodily experience of movement is not a particular case of knowledge; it provides us with a way of access to the world and the object, with a ‘practognosia’, which has to be recognized as original and perhaps primary. (Merleau-Ponty: 2002, 162)

Otherness in an Embodied Church

127

What is the substance of the spaces established by homelessness’ art? As a point of departure, one must say that this question is not a phenomenological question. Just by saying “spaces established by homelessness’ art”, I am reflecting in the exactly opposite direction to the one pointed out by Merleau-Ponty. The body is not in the room, it already lives in the room. In the thinking of Merleau-Ponty this is one of the postulates which you cannot get around. In the context of The Festival of Homeless Arts, this must necessarily mean that there is one analysis which is more important than the analysis of the construction of rooms in the festival itself. And that is the analysis of the spaced world of the homeless person, the already being-inthe-world as a being-homeless-in-the-world. So, following the space-phenomenology of Merleau-Ponty, the important thing in The Festival of Homeless Arts is not the spacing in itself. If we interpret the importance of the inclusion of homeless people into an open church, we do not take care of the specific phenomenology of the situation. And this is true, even if we pay attention to the paradox of the empty old church, and the new church, developing in the basement giving the outsider space in the inside, even if it is still outside, etc. This is obviously a paradox with strong theological significance, but still I think there is more here than this rather more plain and easy interpretation. A more basic question is: What is space in the life of a homeless? According to Merleau-Ponty, a person “is” not in a room, a person lives in a room. By this Merleau-Ponty hints at the center of phenomenology. You cannot describe a human without describing him/her as a person-inthe-world. And since the person is embodied-in-the-world, the human person lives in the world. And you cannot give a true interpretation of this person without presenting the person in the way he/she already is in the world. And this is the crucial point when it comes to the homeless. It comes almost as a banality, but this is the empirical situation: The being-in-theworld of a homeless person is to be in other spaces, or often in spaces with no rooms. The definition of Merleau-Ponty, “a person lives in the room” is a little out of focus when it comes to the homeless person. The definition of a homeless is exactly the opposite: He/She lives in no room. This is obviously true and must have implications for the phenomenology of the homeless. But by stating the importance of the spaced living in the room, Merleau-Ponty is of course not only indicating the concrete living in a concrete house. It seems like this concrete living is also included, but the insight goes beyond that. This is a statement of being embodied in the spaced world in general. So the homeless is not space-less by living in no rooms. One could rather say, the primary spacing of the person is the living in the universe. This is the embodied-being-in-the-world hinted at by the merleau-

128

Trygve Wyller

pontyian reflection on space and rooms. And in this sense the homeless is not space less. He/she is, of course, as embodied in the world as we all are. The phenomenology of the not homeless, however, is that he/she also needs a concrete spacing which corresponds to the primary being-in theworld. On the other hand, the phenomenology of the embodied homeless is that he or she does not always have a concrete spacing corresponding to the primary being-in-the-world. It is not so that a homeless person is primarily living in an open space, with no borders, walls or middleclass interior signs. There is a principal likeness between the homeless and the not homeless and that is that both are spaced in the universe and live there, to use the vocabulary of Merleau-Ponty. The difference, however, is that only the homeless often seem to lack a space corresponding to the one pregiven. And this is why the art festival is so important. It gives a space corresponding to the pregiven to homeless people. And it gives this specific space in the newly developed church, not in the almost emptied space of the old church. The old church space seems to have lost something itself. To be the spacing of those, who lack a space corresponding the pregiven, is more of a privilege than a sacrifice. So the problem of the homeless being in the basement, and not in the church room proper, is a problem of the old church, and not of the homeless.

10. The Ethical-Ecclesiological Impact of Phenomenology So far I have presented an analysis, which focuses on how a phenomenological interpretation discovers the importance of participation and space. This is a discovery developed through an analysis of small pieces of practice and context, all put into a theory of a phenomenological approach to practice. There is no need to discuss whether the specific and concrete content of the analysis, is the only possible result. Of course, there are differing contents from a phenomenological analysis. But two aspects of the analysis are important: The first aspect is the approach itself. It aims at taking the intersubjectivity of the practice as part of the analysis itself. Any other kind of analysis tends to be a positivistic analysis, which presents the other as an object of observation. The other aspect is the importance of space and participation. These two concepts belong to the core of phenomenology, because of intersubjectivity and because of the understanding of space as the place we already live. But an analysis of The Festival of Homeless Arts shows that phenomenology makes a difference when it comes to analysis of the empirical.

Otherness in an Embodied Church

129

It is part of the “empirical reality” of the festival that both participation and space are important aspects of the event. We should not have the best understanding of it if we simply left them out of the analysis. When we choose phenomenology as the “method”, one discovers an empirical world different from the one we discover through classical empirical methods. This discovery has to do with the recognition of the other. In phenomenology the other belongs to me. I cannot “describe” the world I live in, without describing the intersubjectivity I live in and without describing my beingembodied-in-the world. The intersubjectivity and the embodiment belong to the “pre-ethical” and therefore you cannot “describe” a social action without reflecting that every such action includes at least one other person.

11. Otherness and Difference in a Christian Social Practice The opening of this article focused on the question of otherness in Christian social practice and theory. The phenomenological analysis has shown that the discovery of an other belongs to methodology. By choosing phenomenology as the way to “look at” the world, you simply have to recognize that there are others in this world and that it is our responsibility to take care of them. The common life world of the participants in a social practice is part of the interpretation itself. Space, participation and the specific kind of intersubjectivity is the common body, in which a social practice takes place. This body is an empirical organism in which the other cannot be disconnected as an object, but must be thought of as woven into the same intersubjective life world. And therefore, as we have learnt from K.E. Løgstrup, the ethical demand is to take care of this life world, to discover its specific parts, aiming at the development, care and growth of these bodies where persons increase in dignity and awareness. This life world is not constructed, it is given. The other is part of me, therefore I cannot but take care of her/him. This is also a position, with interesting implications for the current discussion on sameness and otherness. The American ethicist E. Wyschogrod claims that there are three waves in the ethical traditions, which take their inspiration from phenomenology. The first wave comes from Husserl and his concept of life-world. We are living in an already established life-world and the ethical demand comes from the relations in which we are already taking part within the life-world. Wyschogrod finds that this is an important step towards the recognition of otherness because it makes the relation and not only the individual the core thing. The criticism against this position is well known. It has to do with the importance of consciousness in Husserl.

130

Trygve Wyller

Many of his critics tend to think that the otherness which he recognizes ends up as an otherness only in the head of the interpreter. Maurice Merleau-Ponty gives his name to the second wave. He wants to avoid the one-sided consciousness left to phenomenology by Husserl. The importance of Merleau-Ponty is his introduction of bodily sensations as the primary and pre-given source for establishing a life-world. The life-world is there before consciousness because the bodies and the senses are already in relation. So the impact of Merleau-Ponty is both the body-focus, and the focus on subjectivity coming out of this pre-given body-based life world. So one could say that Merleau-Ponty combines Husserl’s intention designing a new epistemology which is not based on the subject/object thinking in the natural sciences with his own focus on a body-made life-world. According to Wyschogrod this is one step in the direction of otherness because it is no longer consciousness, but the relations of bodies which are basic relations in the life-world. However, it is still subjectivity which is in the centre of Merleau-Ponty’s thinking and therefore Wyschogrod would also like to see reflection on a more radical otherness in the second wave. Not very surprisingly, Wyschogrod locates the third wave in Levinas and his critique of traditions of sameness. Following Levinas, Derrida has sharpened the critique. And therefore Wyschogrod seems to find true otherness only in the third wave of phenomenology. The interpretation given in my article is, however, based on theorists from the second wave, and is therefore under some kind of suspicion. My interpretation, however, is more an effort to focus on some distinctive condition for the importance of the festival from the position of the participants. The important ambition of Merleau-Ponty and A. Schütz is to describe persons as persons-embodied-in-the-world, persons who are not as objective things acting into a world, but on the contrary: as subjects that could not be described out of their embodied context. This means that the diagnosis of Wyschogrod might be a little unfocussed in this context. It is correct that phenomenology is troubled by the claim that it is a science taking place within the researcher’s consciousness. But the discussions which troubled the second generation of phenomenologists were different. They were first of all concerned with underlining the importance of intersubjectivity. The whole effort of the phenomenological approach grew out of the intention to find another point of departure, a point that did not establish the other as object, but as an embodied person participating in intersubjectivity-in-the-world. I think such an analysis could be the beginning of a reflection on a possible otherness in Christian social practice. The persons in this practice are themselves the others. The homeless belong to the social different, the group which traditionally has only rarely a room in the middleclass Euro-

Otherness in an Embodied Church

131

pean protestant church. The material symbol of this situation was the emptiness of the Union Chapel, Highbury. The social work advertised in the church entrance is the traditional work (“We will do something for them”) of sameness. The Festival of Homeless Arts is intentionally in the opposite situation. As already mentioned, the festival is the spacing of the outsiders where they obviously are the insiders. So this is a new church profile where difference is spaced inside. In spite of the obvious critique raised by the Levinas/Derrida-tradition, there is good reason to see The Festival of Homeless Arts as more than “sameness”. The festival, in my interpretation, could also be regarded as the spacing of the different as different. And so this practice has a paradoxical ecclesiological value. The others in this church are socially different others, but still they are also the same. As humans they also live in life worlds, and they participate in intersubjectivities and spaces. Through the phenomenology of spacing and participation one can see the practice in the drama group and in the new church room as practices where the different are no longer treated as persons with no life world, but as persons embodied in life worlds and therefore with the “same” demand to be treated as humans like every other person. In this ecclesiological context, sameness and otherness might therefore mean the opposite of their value in the philosophical language of Wyschogrod. It sometimes happens that sameness is good. These occasions are of ecclesiological importance. In traditional Christian teachings on the church, one is often concerned with the aspects that are unique to the church: lifestyles, piety, rituals etc. But the phenomenological analysis of The Festival of Homeless Arts challenges this kind of dogmatic. My analysis shows that practices in the Ten feet away have a fundamental phenomenological value. So we reach the conclusion that the specificity of a Christian social practice is that it opens a practice of life worlds within an ecclesiological setting. When this happens, there is an urgent need for a phenomenological response among the participants. This is the need of persons for room for the life world they all belong to, paying attention to the kind of participation and spacing that take place in this life world. And this finally means that the dogmatic importance of the phenomenology of a Christian social practice is the opening up of the paradoxical acknowledgement of the other as the same in the church, belonging to the same life world as we all do. I would call this a significant and important ecclesiological sign. This kind of sameness is a fundamental sign for the construction of an open-minded church for the others. And so this analysis has shown the importance of the method of phenomenology for the study of Christian social practice, in both an ethical and an ecclesiological perspective. The ethical perspective is based on a view of man with great significance for a Christian interpretation of life. The eccle-

132

Trygve Wyller

siological perspective paints a church, which practices the biblical vision of the last to be the first. It happens, not only in a future eschatology, but in the present.

References LØGSTRUP, K.E. (1997), The Ethical Demand, Notre Dame. MERLEAU-PONTY, M. (2002), The Phenomenology of Perception, New York. SCHÜTZ, A. (1972), The Phenomenology of the Social World, Evanston. WYLLER, T. (2005), Diaconal Work as Symbol of Social and Religious Change. A Theological Perspective, in: A. Bäckström (ed.), Welfare and Religion, Uppsala, 81–88. WYSCHOGROD, E./MCKENNY, G.P. (2003), The Ethical, Oxford.

Streets alive Theatre Company, web-adress: http://www.streetsalive.org.uk/ Ten Feet away. Festival of Homeless Arts, web-adress: http://www.unionchapel.org.uk/pages/arts_on_the_move.html The Passage. Day and Night Shelter for the homeless in London, web-adress: http://www.passage.org.uk/ The Streetwise Opera. Giving homeless people a voice, web-adress: http://www.streetwiseopera.org/workshop_programme.php?page=2

Reconstructing Lived Religion HANS-GÜNTER HEIMBROCK Goethe-University, Frankfurt/Main, Germany

1. The Dream of Empirical Theology: To Get in Touch with Life The empirical approach seems to be the signature of modern science. Although it certainly is not a theological invention, during the 20th century history the evolving discipline of Empirical Theology is a strong proof the growing theological interest in the empirical. On the one side this interest especially turned out to be the concern of Practical Theology. Therefore a provisional answer to the question “What is Empirical Theology all about?” might be L. Francis’ formula “Empirical Theology is a way of doing Practical Theology” (Francis: 2005). On the other side at the turning to the 21st century the use of empirical arguments in theology gained general plausibility. This might be indicated by a prominent example from dogmatics. In his highly esteemed volume, the contemporary German protestant theologian W. Härle underlines the value of empirical research as having a necessary critical function for theological epistemology in general. Concerning this issue, he states that Christian faith is implying […] also empirical statements, and just as well statements about distinct things given in experience (for example the existence of Jesus of Nazareth or the existence of the Christian Church as a bodily convention,), also statements addressing experiential reality on the whole […] However, employing an empiristic criterion of meaning would not be appropriate to the object and to the task of theology. Nevertheless it is true for theology as for any other science that any empirical fact, which is contradicting a theological statement, is falsifying this statement and thus forcing to revise and to correct this statement. (Härle: 2001, 24; translation HGH)

Empirical Theology is neither an invention nor the sole property of Practical Theology. Nevertheless, in recent decades, within continental academic theology as well as in global cultural theory, the discipline of Practical Theology has provided a bridging function. Following its own task of research on contemporary religious phenomena it connects with empirically oriented disciplines, such as social sciences, religious studies, and social anthropology. From those disciplines, Practical Theology has picked up particular research on various topics as well as research methods. It applies such knowledge in order to enhance its own competence in empirical re-

134

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

search. On the other hand, Practical Theology is in constant dialogue within systematic theology and philosophy in order to develop a valid and substantial theoretical basis for the analysis of religious experience, human experience and life, and to clarify basic concepts like perception, reality, and empirical research. Following a large variety of different opinions about “experience” and “empirical research”, both trends carry the dynamics of disciplinary interrelations. In this way, Practical Theology has developed a broad interdisciplinary discourse about empirical research on religion. Discussing the problems of “immediate experience versus immediate research” it is instructive to turn to the historical roots of Empirical Theology. Empirical Theology was not an invention of one person we could ascribe original authorship to. It did not grow out of one single theological or philosophical tradition upon one cultural soil. Rather it was pluriform ab ovo, speaking in different tongues, applying different methodologies and reacting to different theological needs in different contexts. A closer look at these historical starting points shows that at least in some branches the evolving research field entitled Empirical Theology contained an empathic appeal to immediacy. One offspring of Empirical Theology dates to the early Chicago School at the beginning of the 20th century. A prominent representative, D. Macintosh, presented an elaborated approach in a study entitled “Theology as an Empirical Science“ (Macintosh: 1919). Inspired by the scientific ideals of English sensualistic and empiristic traditions of J. Locke and J.S. Mill, he was interested in the analysis of ordinary people’s religious experience. Focussing on distinct variables of religious behaviour, Macintosh tried to formulate veritable ‘theological laws’. This was an enterprise, which might sound strange to our ears, given its analogy to formulate natural laws. Take the following as an example: On condition of the right religious adjustment with reference to desired truly moral states of the will (such as repentance, moral aspiration, and the moral elements in selfcontrol, courage, victory over temptation, faithful service and patient endurance), God the Holy Spirit produces the specific moral results desired. (Macintosh: 1919, 148)

Quite clearly, this model followed approved contemporary scientific methodology of that time, the logic of inductive reasoning and of ‘cause-effectrelations’. At the same time, it pretended to be of genuine theological quality, because Macintosh took the inductive path, concluding from the individual’s religious experience towards the centre of theology. He identified God as the final ‘cause’ of all phenomena of religious experience. As he stated, “In any case, all laws of theology as a descriptive science will be knowledge of religious experience in relation to its conditions and central cause, the conditions here being largely subjective, while the central Cause

Reconstructing Lived Religion

135

[sic] is not only objective but divine“ (Macintosh: 1919, 43). Empirical Theology from this approach describes conditions for a certain fact happening in reality, producing “if-then”-sentences. It comes down to a kind of an ‘applied science’ of empirical investigation that provides applicative knowledge to be used in practice. His intention at least was quite similar to the present day empirical theological interests designed to provide exact knowledge, which could and should be applied by ministers in congregations to guide religious life in the expected ways. At the bottom of Macintosh’s practical guidelines the methodological guideline is a categorical frame for individual experiences. The second offspring shows a different approach as well as a different interest. Only a few years after Macintosh published his main books, the Estonian German theologian W. Gruehn was the first person in Europe coining the label ‘Empirical Theology’ (Gruehn: 1936). Like Macintosh, Gruehn focused on the personal religious experience. He happened to be one of the founding father of the psychology of religion. Using psychological tools of empirical investigation he was less guided by ideals of laws of science and more enthusiastic about a realistic turn to life in theology. As he put it: Whoever once gained insight into the vivid life of this reality will understand why whole areas of theology are foreclosed to contemporary people and must remain foreclosed […] he will understand that theology ought to be terribly nearer to reality, terribly more focussed and essential concerning its questions and answers in order to become inevitable for human beings of today. (Gruehn: 1936, XII; translation HGH)

Empirical Theology as promoted by Gruehn follows an overall interest: to bring life back to theory, to bridge the gap between theology and reality. The tools he recommended theology to use (like experiential methods in the young discipline of psychology of religion) provided remedy, curing a if you dare to say so called sick speculative theology. Instead of pure assumptions about reality he proposed to do research on facts (“Tatsachenforschung”) about religious experience. And the results were held to present basic facts (“Grundtatsachen”) of psychic life. Nevertheless, Gruehn also saw his approach being of an essential theological value. An approach that was not only valid in respect of theological abstraction but also applicable to the practical psychological knowledge about ‘facts’ in congregational praxis. His program intended to connect theology to modernity. Unlike Macintosh, his main concern was not the development of modern scientific methods. Rather he emphasized the intention to once more bring theology in touch with life. From his analysis of living human piety he intended to advance a substantial contribution to the understanding of faith, to the rela-

136

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

tion between God and human beings. In this respect, he stated that “this vivid piety is living with God and is experiencing the effects in daily surroundings. This abundant multitude of relations of God towards life is the most fruitful objectives of any dogmatic […]” (Gruehn: 1960, 522; translation HGH). Evaluated in the light of a century’s progress of Empirical Theology both initial models have their strength as well as their weakness. There might be some argument about Macintosh’s approach, not only in respect to a rather poor sample of only five persons, but moreover concerning the categorical framework, concerning the possibility to reconstruct religious experience in analogy to natural laws. And Gruehn’s effort to get theology in touch with reality and life was not only discredited by a rather dubious engagement in Baltic Nazi politics, but also by a rather naïve methodical approach, which based the illusion to get in touch with empirical “facts”, not seeing the pitfalls of projective imagination. Anyhow, the sketchy glimpse shows that at the bottom of Empirical Theology there lies a twofold attempt to elaborate a realistic dimension in theology: – first by applying methods and concepts to gain valuable scientific knowledge which refer to a rather positivist concept of reality and, – second by trying to keep theory and research in contact with religious experience, conceived as a vivid process in life and thus intending to prevent theology from being a merely speculative body of knowledge, out of touch with any reality. In other words, Empirical Theology from its very beginning followed two different lines of “the empirical”: either to follow a scientific approach to religious experience ending up in a restricted understanding of religion or being in favour of vivid immediate religious life with rather poor theoretical instruments.

2. The Empirical Science If Practical theology as Empiricial Theology functions as advocate to save the phenomena of religious life, and as advocate to remind the other theological disciplines to keep the necessary relation to reality and experiences of people – how is it possible to follow this task, however to overcome a naïve emphatic plea to “life”? A substantial search for conceptual clarification is still a desideratum, if this advocacy wants to remain a scientific

Reconstructing Lived Religion

137

position of theological theory. How does one understand ‘phenomena’ Practical Theology should deal with in empirical research with? How does one select a particular concept of ‘experience’ within theology? How does one align “the empirical” with theology while still keeping up with general theoretical standards of the academy in order to remain a serious partner for social sciences and cultural studies? After the first century of Empirical Theology, the pitfalls of underlying methodological and conceptual assumptions are all too obvious. It is not enough to insist on the distinction between empirical research and speculative assumptions, in order not to watering down the concept of the empirical into something that could be used for everything and says nothing. It is likewise necessary to reflect on the basic concepts being used to set up empirical research as well as related valid theory. Therefore, it seems to be a complementary challenge for those engaged in Empirical Theology to ask, what might be a meaningful definition of “empirical” as situated within and beyond theology. Looking for some elementary structuring patterns within the plurality of approaches towards conceptual clearness, a safe and solid way would be to follow the historical developments of the main concepts, related to the project of Empirical Theology. As to “experience” and “empirical” there might be a basic consensus about a justiffiable concept of knowledge, gained not from speculative reasoning. It is a plausible proposal to start with a kind of working definition about the empirical approach, being “a method of inquiry that presumes to find knowledge and its verification by appealing to experience” (Meland: 1969a, 8). After a century of research praxis we are aware of the fact that a definition of the empirical is not only given by principal statements and theoretical declarations set up in advance of a research process. It is moreover given alongside and by means of doing research in a specific way the specific observation methodology by which, elements of reality are treated and described. Looking at the historical development of empirical science through the centuries, there seems to be a clear answer to, reaching from Aristotelian “knowledge of the specific” in favour of categorical insight to R. Bacon’s “scientia experimentalis”, to inductively gained knowledge of the 18th century empiristic and sensualistic traditions, which altogether try to transcend the individual vague assumptions by applying generalised rules. In modern theory of science the empirical largely was identified with having generalised technical-practical rules and methodological insight at one’s disposal. An additional means to clarify the empirical model might be to draw on the related concept of “phenomenon”. The plea “to save the phenomena” (Mittelstrass: 1962) against the imperialism of theory might even lead to the attempt to replace the notion of “experience” by the alternative concept of “phenomenon” in order to get a clearer conceptual basis for a scientific

138

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

empirical approach. However, like with “experience”, there is only, at first glance, a common sense definition, which might be something like “a case of” or “visible variations of an abstract concept”. Beyond that preliminary consensus, however, the elaborated and interesting interpretation starts. On the one hand, the empiristic notion of G. Berkeley defines phenomena as “nothing else but ideas” and thus as “elements of self-conscience” (1949/1713, 257). On the other hand, we find the Kantian, rather idealistic distinction between “noumena” and “phaenomena” as elements of knowledge. These two views provide the initial scientific definition of phenomenon. Or as J. St. Mill states, “the laws of phenomena are everything we know about them” (1969/1865, 265). Looking back to the history of Empirical Theology the dominant path did not follow Gruehn’s appeal to “vivid life of reality”, rather chose for the inductive approach to reality as the empirical way. Trying to treat reality in a scientific (rather than an emphatic) way Empirical Theology largely referred to a specific ideal of experience and reality using explicitly or implicitly the inductive methodology. The intention is to form universal judgments regarding similar things or similar situations. The overall interest is to avoid any unclear conceptual and methodological basis. Instead, this type of empirical research and related theory are based on clear concepts and methodical ways which follow general scientific criteria of gaining data, like representativity, reliability, and validity. In consequence, they restrict themselves to data as detached objects, which are gained independently from the researching subject. Related hypotheses are up to empirical falsification. Thus, this approach follows a narrow concept of “experience”. In this logic a concrete object is taken as “a case of”, representing general principles. Part of these ideals is the assumption that a research procedure carried out properly leads to the same experience based data, independent from different research persons. Conceiving the empirical alongside the inductive way aims at formulating probabilistic knowledge about particular religious behavior on the basis of empirical data and interpretive conclusions. At the bottom of this approach one may identify a significant understanding of reality. The elder empirical ideal to judge relations between several particular findings along the categories of “cause and effect” has been discharged long ago. Instead the overall aim became to collect empirical data about social phenomena to explain reality in terms of correlation or probability. This approach has been largely adopted by important branches of Empirical Theology. Following this line the main scientific task of Practical theology is said to doe research not on concrete particular situations, but on “classes of situations” (van der Ven: 2002, 20).

Reconstructing Lived Religion

139

A practical theologian who operates empirically, researches causal relations between faith in God and bereavement among groups of people, whereas a pastor in real life counsels individuals in their unique situation with coping with bereavement. (van der Ven: 2002, 21)

Reality is conceived as a conforming structure of ongoing regularities, which can be predicted and influenced at least to some extent. At present time the most elaborated models of this type of Empirical Theology show impressively that any serious empirical based theory does not simply apply to “facts of life,” but inevitably bases its propositions upon large theoretical concepts, such as reality, life, and religion. Even the so-called starting points of data, empirical findings or phenomena, carry a heavy theoretical load (Morgenthaler: 2005). Drawing the line back to the two types I ended up with in my first part, win and loss are clearly to be identified. The achievement of the renewed empirical theology undoubtedly is that a positivist naiveté à la Macintosh is surmounted by methodological reflection on the normative basis of the inductive empirical way. In addition the empirical task clearly is combined with hermeneutic steps of theology. However, the flipside is even more obvious: “immediacy” of experience is not any longer a real option of this type of empirical science. The initial and pre-scientific complexity of life is not the aim of gaining knowledge, rather exact knowledge about selected relations, which can be expressed by the language of mathematic and logic signs. In order to keep up with scientific standards of “empirical”, as used in social sciences, this model of empirical theology is less interested in studying the particular and the irregular, less interested in the emerging cultural phenomena of everyday life, and less interested in the dimension of “otherness” that constitutes a theological understanding of human praxis. Coming back to the initial impulse of Gruehn’s empirical theology: Is it possible to reconstruct the naïve appeal to vivid reality through a conceptually clarified approach to the “empirical” which keeps a more open approach to experience? Is there a serious alternative to maintain the interest of representing “immediacy” of experience in scientific language? This question indicates a need for further clarification about the peculiarities as well as the possibilities of “the empirical”. At least one of the main methodological problems for Empirical Theology in our time is to construct a research methodology which follows the criteria of empirical sciences while, at the same time, is not restricted to scientific patterns that foreclose knowledge about reality or miss the nature of religious objects.

140

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

3. Lived Experience Yet, there is an alternative theoretical line about the empirical in epistemological traditions next to the model that judgments based on empirical insight produce insight into regular chains of events. This alternative concept of experience within the methodology of empirical theory draws on other aspects, aspects that are specific to human experience. The notion of “lived experience” (in German: “Erlebnis”) serves as key concept to this empirical theory. “Lived experience” was first elaborated by W. Dilthey in his hermeneutic reflection on the nature of poetry: “A lived experience does not confront me as something perceived or represented; it is not given to me, but the reality of lived experience is there-for-me because I have a reflexive awareness of it, because I possess it immediately as belonging to me in some sense. Only in thought does it become objective. (Dilthey: 1985/1905, 223). This quotation already indicates, that reconstructing reality and experience upon “lived experience” does not lead back to the paradise lost of naïve immediacy, however it provides new insight into this focal element for our discussion. After Dilthey, during the last century several disciplines within humanities like gestalt theory, psychoanalysis, literary and historical studies, aesthetic theory, philosophy of education and many other disciplines have wrestled with the problem to clarify this sort of empirical approach to relevant experiential basis of their research, which likewise does not exclude the very process and richness of experience through theoretical interpretation. The approach to the empirical was been worked out in more detail particularly in phenomenological theory. Despite Husserl’s own epistemological mistrust in (empirical) psychology (Husserl: 1987/1917; 1936) one even could state: “Phenomenological knowledge is empirical, based on experience, but it is not inductively empirically derived.” (van Manen: 1990, 22). What kind of empirical understanding is at stake in such a model? It all starts with the awareness of the dynamic process of experience: “Experience initially signifies something which happens, in which the ‘things themselves’ which we talk about, show up. The empirical, not empiricism’, has been pointed out already by Dilthey […]. The empirical in this sense does not signify the existence of data and likewise not to collect them in data banks, however this word refers back to the Aristotelian GšORGKTKŸC, which by repetitive dealing with becomes structured. (Waldenfels: 1997, 19; translation HGH)

Referring back to the world of experience is referring to the life world with all its self evidences and pre-reflexive familiarities described by the late

Reconstructing Lived Religion

141

Husserlian theory (Husserl: 1936). Life World aims at the human subject’s pre-scientific encounter with the world, thus leads to emphasize the relational aspect of experience. In the relational approach, the empirical basis is conceived of as something “given” from beyond the perceiving individual (the original meaning of ‘data’), and only accessible through sensual experience of a human subject, being involved in the experiential process. In this model, the research process is situated within an experiential field, and experience is linked to the perceiving human being and its ceaseless involvement. The impact of this distinction with regard to different concepts of “experience” is quite strong: Experience can be taken to mean a highly selective form of sensory data, or a complex of events, subtly and ambiguously envisaged. The distinction here turns, not on whether the empiricist is precise and disciplined, as against those who are vague and undisciplined in their thinking; but rather on whether the facts of experience are understood to be kind of data that can be attended to as isolated entities and thus scrutinized with utmost clarity of observation, or data that can be envisaged only in a context; that is within relationships, where relationships are deemed experienceable (Meland: 1969a, 12).

In the relational approach to the empirical way of focusing “lived experience” there is a more open and more contextual understanding of reality. Reality is not to be described without the individual’s involvement on the level of experience, as well as on the level of theoretical description (Tappan: 1997). Furthermore, it contains ab ovo elements, which are spontaneous, irregular, faults and slips, unexpected, and even strange. Like the detached model of experience, also “lived experience” as a theoretical construct converges in the non-positivistic stance that reality is not simply that ‘which is the case’. However “things look rather different when we get to the roots of experience where things become what they could be.” (Waldenfels: 2002, 4). In modern theory of science there is a general agreement: the empirical coincides with the appeal to sensual perception. Likewise essential to the notion of lived experience is the foundation of experience in perception; however, lived experience deals with a specific concept of perception. The “primacy of perception” to experience has been investigated largely by the French phenomenologist M. Merleau-Ponty, marking also differences to a conscience centred approach in prior phenomenology. By these words ‘the primacy of perception’, we mean that the experience of perception is our presence at the moment when things, truths, values are constituted for us”. Thus, he maintains that “perception is a nascent logos, that it teaches us, outside all dogmatism, the true conditions of objectivity itself (Merleau-Ponty: 1964, 25).

142

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

Based on philosophical arguments as well as on empirical evidence, Merleau-Ponty puts forward a specific concept of human perception as bodily perception. Concerning this point, he marks an essential difference between phenomenology and the older English sensualistic tradition of perception (Wiesing: 2002). His phenomenological concept of perception is based on the bodily foundation of every perception. That includes the specific ambiguity to have and to live in a body, while, at the same time, making a distinction between the body as object (German: “Körper”) and the body as living subject (German: “Leib”) which is also the subject to his or her perception. The human body-subject with its emotions, desires and sensations might well be mediated by physical and social conditions. Nevertheless, the body is the basis and the transcendental prerequisite of any knowledge about ourselves and about objects within the world. The body in itself can never be fully perceived nor never be reduced to a pure physical object. It is not a mechanistic body moved by secondary activity intentions, which are set up first in cognitive activities without participation of the body. Specifically human experience, rooted in perception, does not take place in an abstract or intellectualistic way, nor in a causal-mechanistic way, but rather in a situated connection to a finite bodily subject of perception which is living and perceiving the world in a specific spatial situation. Through one’s body, one understands the other and becomes aware of things through the body. Perceptions grounded in the body, as meaningful gestures, are like the subject to be understood through the body, even though these meaningful gestures occur in situations of daily life. As so, they are not the results of previously and conscious taken decisions to act. This analysis has heavy impact on the structure of intentionality. Of course, intentionality is always about taking something as something. However, the phenomenological reconstruction of intentionality essentially differs from a concept of intentionality based on mentalistic anthropology. Intentionality cannot be simply restricted to intellectual or other cognitive intentions of a reasoning subject. The corporal existence has an intentional structure. Therefore, in every single situation, human beings always live their bodies towards the world (van Manen: 1990, 182). Thus, considering lived human experience, one has to recognize: Against the notion of intentionality as a voluntary, primarily cognitive act, MerleauPonty lays great emphasis on Husserl’s notion of functioning or operative intentionality (fungierende Intentionalität) […] Our bodily intentions already lead us into a world constituted for us before we conceptually encounter it in cognition. (Moran: 2000, 402)

Thus, sensual perception cannot be restricted to active perception, neither in observation nor listening behavior, but rather it originates from things that attract us. In consequence, “actions are […] more staged than produced

Reconstructing Lived Religion

143

[…], running through phases of hesitation and rehearsals.” (Waldenfels: 2002, 4; cf. also Heimbrock: 2007, 55ff) This approach to intentionality seems to be more open and, therefore, enriches our understanding of empirical reality, because it also takes account of the everyday encounter with reality, which takes place prior to reflexive and conceptual understanding. It points to a layer of pre-conceptual bodily rooted experience which is not fully accounted for when we see it as purely mechanistic behaviour of a body-machine and a system of mechanic sensory apparatus. Compared to reflective cognition, living experience carries an ontological and epistemological surplus. The empirical approach centred in lived experience can be illustrated by a structural scheme:

Fig. 1: The structure of lived experience

Coming back to the issue of immediacy in experience the consequences of including the model of “lived experience” into an empirical approach to reality are rather substantial. This approach helps “to make use of language in such a way as to make present to us what is inherently pre-linguistic and therefore essentially not transposable into a set of precisely delineated pro-

144

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

positional statements.” (van Manen: 1990, 50). In that sense, a theory of lived experience picks up the old dream to gain immediate access to the “vivid life”, not in order to abolish it, but to transform and to resolve it. Reflecting in a more detailed way on the project of reconstructing Lived Religion shows that to fix vivid immediacy with human scientific instruments is a scientific illusion – however a most necessary and most fruitful one, because it tries to give conceptual clearness about the initial preconceptual basis of experience. And this helps us to keep in mind this necessary reference point of any empirical phenomenon. “The chain of reflections hangs on a pre-reflective nucleus of vivid presence which can only be grasped afterwards by a sort of ‘after-awareness’ (Nachgewahren)” (Waldenfels: 2002, 6).

4. Theology as “Empirical Realism” How to make use of this refreshed understanding of the empirical by the concept of “lived experience” for Empirical Theology as theological methodology? It belongs to the mysterious paths of history that exactly at the same place, where once the first American movement of Empirical Theology had been shaped, that is the school of divinity at Chicago, two generations after Macintosh a new approach to the empirical in theology was shaped. And it was again a group of scholars, the later so called Chicago School of the 60ies, who were in charge of this progress. This turn of theological theory was even more surprising as the dominant figure of Chicago theology, P. Tillich, one of the leading figures in the 20th century’s theological discourse as well, not long before had made a fundamental objection against any methodological import of the empirical sciences into theology. In the midst of the 20th century, 1947, he expressed a fundamental methodological critique towards the use of empirical research within theology. As he stated: It is not a sound procedure to borrow a method for a special realm of inquiry from another realm in which this method has been successfully used. It seems that the emphasis on the so-called ‘empirical’ method in theology has not grown out of actual theological demands but has been imposed on theology under the pressure of a ‘methodical imperialism’, exercised by the pattern of natural sciences. This subjection of theology to a strange pattern has resulted in an undue extension of the concept ‘empirical’ and the lack of a clear distinction between the different meanings of ‘experience’ in the theological enterprise. (Tillich: 1947, 16)

Reconstructing Lived Religion

145

Obviously this did not prevent others to take a fresh look at the problem how to develop theological thinking on quite another basis of experiential thinking, than the one Tillich had felt to oppose against. It is impressive to recognize with German eyes, how at Chicago scholars of several theological disciplines took part in elaborating and deepening the epistemological basis and theological substance of a renewed type of Empirical Theology (Meland: 1969a). All this happened long before the issue appeared on the agenda of European Practical Theology. Not denying the traditional theological notion of transcendence, this movement shared with other types of Empirical Theology the overall conviction that God’s presence is immanent to human beings in experience. Had the critique of the Chicago professor Tillich been opposing the imperialism of (natural) scientific methods within the realm of philosophical theology, this renewed Chicago approach took its departure beyond this antagonism of Dilthey (Explanation – Interpretation; in German: Erklären – Verstehen), thereby starting with other conceptual tools for religion, faith and experience. And at least for some of the most prominent representatives of this type of theology again the notion of lived experience was the key concept. In one way or another all members of the new Chicago School opposed, like Tillich and based on theological and philosophical arguments, a reductive understanding of experience as only a matter of sensual perception, consequently opposed religious experience as being fully describable by psychological investigation. However, turning the focus from English sensualism towards profound 20th century’s philosophical concepts about the nature of reality and experience like W. James’ Radical Empirism, Whiteheadian Process Philosophy as well as Husserl’s Phenomenology, now quite another Empirical Theology emerged. The intention was not to separate theology from modern science. On the contrary, those tools helped to be careful about the theological part in the theoretical investigation of the world and, at the same time, to provide sufficient means to reject the shortcomings of theological liberalism, which had made God simply continuous to human consciousness. Two generations of scholars, among them H.N. Wieman, B. Loomer and B. Meland contributed far beyond the early inductionistic empiristic approach. Their overall concern was less directed towards methods or technical instruments to produce empirical data and generalised rules. Rather they focussed on getting a deeper understanding of the nature of experience and the presuppositions of methodical rationale in use for a profound analysis of the conceptual basis of experience. The leading figures of the renewed Chicago School shared a common dream, to base theology upon a central idea of “common experience”, upon immediate accessible experience which functions as a shared horizon of

146

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

evidence. “At Chicago, one acquired an empirical temper of mind in the sense that one attempted to form his beliefs on the basis of evidence.” (Cobb: 1969, 95). Out of a very rich scale of contributions I take the systematic theologian Meland’s ideas as an outstanding representative. What about his particular theological reconstruction of experience? Not to take him wrong in sketchy overview, I have to underline Dean’s hint, who states: “It was Meland who argued that individual experience is only one source for empirical testimony, the other two sources being cult and myth, both prejudicing the outlook of the individual” (Dean, 1990). That, however, was not his whole story, rather the prelude to a theological investigation into the nature of experience. The overall intention of his Empirical Theology method was “to take seriously the empirical situation as a source of grace” (Rogers: 1990, 121). Without any anti-rational bias, Meland already early in his theological biography pointed out the necessity to relate modern theoretical principles of knowledge to particular religious interests in order to do keep up with a genuine theological approach to reality. Concerning this matter, he states, “Theologians must reckon with the fact that their intellectual undertaking is motivated by objectives that differ decidedly from those of scientist. The scientist pursues knowledge of his world with a view to controlling” (Meland: 1934, 199f). In his view, the theologian’s interest is not to control the world by gathering distinct data according to the rationale of exact science, but rather to prepare worship, to open life to the mysterious structure of reality. Referring to Schleiermacher and to pietistic traditions, Meland sharpens both, the very empirical basis of faith and the reflective task of theology as a theoretical endeavour. Therefore, theological thinking about faith and experience cannot escape the necessity to distinguish between faith embedded within the vital immediacy of “lived experience” and its attempts to conceptually clarify this experience in order to communicate about it on the grounds of rationality. Further on, Meland holds that an adequate theological understanding of faith starts by acknowledging “faith as a structure of experience” (Meland: 1953b, 183). This supposes that the vital essence of theological notions like revelation, forgiveness and grace is aiming at resonance in human experience and thus not treated exhaustively if they are reduced to “simply linguistic realities” (Meland: 1969b, 293). He called his approach “empirical realism”, which is a substantially new answer to the problem of immediacy. The model argues that theology could and should profit from this type of reflection on reality, which distinguishes language and reality, as well as semantic and logical explications from the awareness of an immediacy of lived experience. In a particular sense, his perspective defines the practical mission of theology as an academic disci-

Reconstructing Lived Religion

147

pline, which aims at “carrying the act of faith beyond linguistic preoccupations to an experience of grace and judgment within this vital immediacy” (Meland: 1969b, 305). One might notice that this notion of “vital immediacy” picks up W. James’ “perceptual flux”. The fact that Meland, among others, deliberately drew on phenomenology and the notion of “lived experience” is no surprise. His programmatic question “Can Empirical Theology Learn from Phenomenology?“ (Meland: 1969b) explicitly marks a theoretical link between empirical realism and a life world based theory of experience. A bridging link is identified in Husserl’s ‘stream of thought’, nevertheless Meland followed the turn from a conscious centred transcendental type of phenomenology of the younger Husserl towards a bodily oriented thinking of his French pupil MerleauPonty. To promote the notion of “lived experience” as theoretical tool for the praxis of faith as lived experience, theology has to sharpen the understanding of the nature of experience. In consequence, in Meland’s way of describing the quality of experience, the engagement of faithful people is not only mirrored by presented objects as content, but also focuses on the experiential side of faith as a particular responsiveness, which he called “appreciative consciousness“ (Meland: 1953a). This basic concept of his theological method, as he put it himself, “can best be understood as an orientation of the mind which makes for a maximum degree of receptivity to the datum under consideration on the principle that what is given may be more than what is immediately perceived, or more than one can think” (Meland: 1953a, 63). The particular intention of Empirical Theology was to define this quality as a central element of theological reflection, in order to avoid theological as well as epistemological objectivism against human experience. Given this sketchy reconstruction of Meland’s approach to Empirical Theology, it is interesting to glance back at the concepts and polemics voiced by Tillich. Although Meland saw a considerable difference between his empirical realism and Tillich’s theological method of correlation, Meland’s analysis of experience resembles the positive argument at the bottom of Tillich’s critique against ‘dogmatic empiricism’. Opposite to that empirical method, which narrows the conception of the world alongside ‘behaviouristic protocols’, according to Tillich the deep concern of theology should be to do justice to a more open and thus less objectifying concept of experience. A theological interest centred in religion as the ‘ultimate concern’ opens up to a quality of experience which man and women acknowledge. As Tillich states, “We encounter reality – or reality imposes itself upon us – sometimes in a more complex way, sometimes in definite and distinguishable elements and functions […]”. And Tillich adds in

148

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

brackets: “It is my opinion, that the term ‘encounter’ is more adequate for our pre-theoretical relation to reality than the term ‘experience’, which has lost so much of its specific meaning that it needs to be ‘saved’, namely, restricted to a theoretically interpreted encounter” (Tillich: 1947, 17). Back to Meland and summing up the key elements of his model of Empirical Theology, one could say his work focused on the embodied self and the ‘appreciative consciousness’ as key notions to understand experience not as separate set of data, but rather as a relational phenomenon. Favouring this concept of experience, Meland was fully aware that the empirical side of faith, the vital immediacy, is neither a religious a priori in human consciousness nor an unconditioned immediacy but rather shaped by culturallymediated symbols in tension with critical consciousness shaped by science and theory. Nevertheless, it is the task of theology to reconstruct – in a mode of approximation – this vital immediacy of experience especially in its pretheoretical and relational quality. Nota bene: this is taken as a challenge to reflect, and this is not at all denying the rational task of theology as Empirical Theology. Therefore Meland holds to an ontological and epistemological “more” of living experience (James), which is placed above reflective cognition. As he puts it, “We live more deeply than we can think” (Meland: 1976, 135). It is true, as somebody remarked, Meland’s concept of empirical realism shows a rational as well as a mystical strand (Rogers: 1990).

5. Practical Theology: Reconstructing Lived Religion Moving a step further in my argument I pick up this concept of experience, and leave behind the other strand of empirical theology, sketched above. However it does not seem a quick step from Meland’s subtle philosophical reconstruction of “lived experience” to Practical Theology and its strategic tasks to reflect on religious praxis, to shape professional religious praxis, and to carry out concrete research projects of Empirical Theology. If the phenomenological analysis of “lived experience” does not only pick up pure assumptions, but also evaluates with methodical routines phenomena which belong to reality taken in a broader sense of “lived reality”, than a reality oriented Empirical Theology as Practical Theology is obliged to enlarge its research program. Thus, the question how to perform such type of research remains a major challenge for the discipline. It challenges the key concepts and research methods of phenomenology from a specific profile. The challenge is to take essential conceptual tools and methodological insights from phenomenology, in itself a non-theological endeavour, in order to contribute to the basic practical theological task in connection

Reconstructing Lived Religion

149

with empirical research. However, following the reconstruction of “lived experience” it is clear that the use of phenomenological methodology within empirical theology calls for an empirical approach which combines theological reflection with all those notions, principles and assumptions that are at stake in empirical sciences together with concrete research designs. Next to other current models of Practical Theology (Mette: 1978; Browning: 1991; Grözinger: 1995; Stone: 1996; Gräb: 1998) a phenomenological model of empirical theology starts with an open perception of phenomena in human life and interprets them according to a methodology, which reconstructs human experience in the conceptual line of “lived experience”. Taking up a broad understanding of religion as starting point Practical Theology as Empirical theology is able to pick up the phenomenological impulse. Nota bene: This is a completely different approach compared to classical “phenomenology of religion” sensu R. Otto, M. Eliade, and F. Heiler, because they started with a pre-selected area of “religious” objects like “the holy”. Likewise, theology which picks up the phenomenological impulse does not restrict its perspective to faith and faith traditions, not even to “religious” objects. Rather it opens up its perspective towards an analysis of the culturally shaped forms of life, to the overall question how people are related to reality in the pre ‘given-ness’ of their concrete life world encounter. And theology follows the fundamental intertwinement between the objects of knowledge and the way the experiencing subject is related to these objects. This enables empirical theologians to study and reconstruct the pre-reflexive and pre-theoretical involvement of human beings with everyday life and culture. To do so, it has been fruitful to focus the overall research interest of this model by the key notion of “lived religion”. It draws heavily on “lived experience”, consequently on the approach to the nature of experience described above. Seen from a phenomenological perspective, neither life nor religion is fully conceivable as acts of religious communication or religious judgments. Mediated through their sensual perceptions, human beings experience everyday phenomena as (more or less) relevant or even significant for their lives. This includes situations which the cultural anthropologist C. Geertz has characterized as belonging to the experience of chaos, to encounters with reality, where people do not find their way through (Geertz: 1973). While these encounters are not fully conceivable, they include “tacit knowledge” (Polanyi: 1974/1958), which provides character to the most recent, strange and unspeakable aspects of life and religion. It has to be noted as well that bodily behavior, aesthetic praxis, art and a lot of other phenomena common to various religions in past and present reach far beyond the realm of instrumental or communicative activities and therefore deserve specific attention from enlarged empirical research.

150

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

Practical examples might be phenomena, some of which at first glance are not labeled religious in a traditional sense. Phenomena like the act of becoming fascinated by encounter with the holy in experiences with natural sights or specific sacred buildings, or being overwhelmed by disclosure experiences, or being caught by flow experiences (Csikscentmihalyi: 1990), or having dreams and nightmares, like the prophet Zechariah, or being caught by ecstatic forces and feeling oneself outside one’s own body, like St. Paul talked about in 2 Cor 12:2. “Lived religion” as a theoretical construct is also relevant for issues like the empirical study of participating in a Taizee liturgy or for describing the experiences during a preaching process in a usual Methodist or Lutheran Sunday service. Taking these phenomena as challenges for Empirical Theology proposes enlargement of both, the material objects and the formal object of theological research. An orientation towards “lived religion” enables empirical theological research not only to deal with distinct and predefined religious matters, but also to begin and end with a broader perspective on life as connected to everyday culture (Failing/Heimbrock: 1998; Heimbrock: 2005a; Mädler: 2005; Scholtz: 2005). However, it is impossible to deny that these encounters with reality do not only happen without speech. They also include learnt verbal patterns to make sense of the experiences. This might even include words which conventionally are identified as “religious”. However ordinary people (not theological experts) in their everyday encounters usually are not at all interested to distinguish or to qualify those events as being “religious” or “nonreligious”. This evaluative task is a (necessary) part of academic theology, however not part of pre-theoretical, immediate experience within everyday routines, particularly as this experience of the well known is happening to a great extent in a pre-verbal way. The model presented here follows two leading theological – and phenomenological – ideas about reality and life. First, lived religion taken as object of Practical Theology is more than cognitive human behaviour, which defines a frame of reference to attribute a religious meaning to objectives in reality in a transitive manner. The phenomenological analysis of experience sharpens the perspective for those layers of reality, where the subject, interwoven with reality, is also being affected, touched, and perhaps even overwhelmed. This includes inactive, more passive elements, described by scholars like V. von Weizsäcker and F. Buytendijk as “pathic behaviour” (Buytendijk: 1956). Thus, related phenomena are important anthropological analogies to the theological interpretation of life from God’s passion in Christ.

Reconstructing Lived Religion

151

Second, without neglecting the necessity and value to describe structures of experience in a more generalised way, a phenomenological based concept of reality opens up the analysis for the particular and the individual, especially for the mysterious structure of reality, dealing with otherness, with the peculiar and strange. The phenomenological notion of otherness within life itself may not be simply used as “natural theology” or an empirical proof for the theological proposition of God’s transcendence. However, it could serve as a conceptual instrument to understand reality in a broader sense, thus in accordance to the dynamic and mysterious structure of the theological interpretation of life beyond the categories of cause and effect. To be clear about the intention of this type of Empirical Theology, the pretension is not to develop a “better” or “more effective” social scientific empirical methodology. It can hardly contribute to the analysis of detached data or to the measurement of large-scale correlations. Rather it claims to enlarge the perspective of Empirical Theology by drawing on overlooked phenomena and by applying the relational concept of experience next to the detached model. Using the approach of “lived experience”, it is able to address other questions, and thus this type of theology follows other intentions in the analysis of experience with particular focus on elements and dimensions of the experiential side of reality. Decisive for any empirical analysis of reality is the question of methods. This is also vital for Practical Theology, if it shows the capacity to both, reflecting on methodological grounds and carrying out research. It is not an easy task to transform phenomenological impulses into methodically reflected research. Despite the fact that especially early philosophical phenomenology did not offer tools or methods for empirical research – Husserl rather identified his methodology of reduction opposite to empirical standards of contemporary psychology (Husserl: 1917) – it seems possible to indicate the methodical consequences for Empirical Theology. A procedure to start empirical research not from an exact and completely defined concept of religion consequently leads to openness as well as inexactness in terms of the basic notion of religion. Exactly this peculiarity has been demonstrated in recent theory of religion from various sides as appropriate to the very object of religion: An entirely exact definition of religion, which includes everything at the same time, is not possible, because it proceeds neither like mathematics or logic with an object, of which oneself might determine the content fully, nor like science with an object, of which you might be sure to have comprehended the category of the whole as independent quality besides the sum of its parts. (Colpe: 1983, 239; translation HGH)

152

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

To indicate essential elements of methods, it certainly starts with perception, prior to any reflective reconstruction also within the research process. One has to stress reflective subjectivity to deepen the relation between sensual perception and the way an embodied subject deals with reality (pretheoretically, as well as, in theory). Thus, to transform this methodological starting point requires, in every case, to design concrete methods appropriate to the particular phenomenon, and especially including the step of “phenomenological adoption” for qualitative, grounded analysis (Dinter/Heimbrock/Söderblom: 2007). However, there is no appropriate phenomenological research, described in a fixed set of methodical steps which does fully right to approach phenomena in reality according to a phenomenological habit (Moustakas: 1994). Like in any other empirical research one can identify genuine steps of an appropriate research process, in this case including the personal discovery of the research object (the “Aha”), taking in account theoretical contexts of the research object in Practical Theology and other disciplines, phenomenological perception of the research object and research questions, concepts and theories, related to the research object, the concrete design of research methods within the methodological frame of “lived experience”. However, to set up a research design following the methodology of phenomenology leads to a fundamental paradox. The approach oriented towards “living religion” essentially depends on openness to the concept of religion against every attempt to take too much control of the subject matter by way of foreclosing, or through using narrow definitions from the beginning. In order to save the phenomena from imperialism of theory and research plans, phenomenological Empirical Theology focuses on the fundamental tension between methodical and conceptual exactness as well as necessary openness towards reality. Out of this necessity, opponents reason that this phenomenological attitude can never – neither methodologically nor conceptually – substitute the exactness of scientific knowledge or of logical concepts. However, the ‘precise imprecision’ (Moxter: 2001) and the use of ‘fuzzy concepts’ is not an epistemological deficiency; instead, it is a surplus for method and research in the phenomenological context. The concept of lived religion provides theoretical language and categorial tools, which invite and enable researchers to approach that which can never be reached completely. Using this model, one tries to reconstruct the pre ‘given-ness’ of the life world perspective of “immediate experience”. One tries to do the impossible: to mark in conceptual language the intertwinement of participatory immediacy and distenciating reflection which is decisive for religious praxis within the context of everyday life. Perception guided by phenomenology tries to reach back to life world in its immediate and complex experience, to religion as if it were in the process of becom-

Reconstructing Lived Religion

153

ing. Classical sociology of religion like G. Simmel called this layer of social praxis a “pre-religious” dimension (Simmel: 1989/1889). Thus, reconstructing lived religion is a necessary theoretical project; however, it always remains a project of re-construction.

6. Theology and Reality The intention of this article was to develop a refreshed practical theological approach to the problems and possibilities concerning a valid empirical and theoretical reconstruction of experiential immediacy. Deepening into the structure of experience and following the concept of “lived religion” helped us to clarify needs and possibilities of Practical Theology in its empirical interest. Following the argument so far, one might get the impression that there is more at stake than redefining special tasks of the pastoral branch within theology. The quest of the empirical touches fundamental epistemological issues of theory and the horizon under which theology tries to interpret human life motivated and shaped by the interest of the Gospel. Thus, it touches the relation between theology and reality in general. To indicate at least some of the further reaching consequences from this type of Empirical Theology to the whole body of theology, I conclude my article by giving some statements about the theological approach to reality, which follows from the type of Empirical Theology developed so far. 1. Human reality and reality of faith are not totally identical, however not separated like fire and water. Faith always shows up within contexts of other phenomena, and thus in an indirect, broken, and mediated way – “we have this treasure in earthern vessels” (2 Cor 4:7). Theology conceives reality from the notion of difference. 2. A theological view on world and reality based on a dynamic and process oriented concept of God is particularly interested to think reality as an open concept, which leaves space to think otherness and changeability of the world. Theology is committed to a concept of life which is not restricted to causal interpretation, though it does not to neglect the fruitfulness of this approach. But it would only include the narrow empirical model explaining facts within a broader context of understanding reality. 3. However, theology, faithful to biblical interpretations of reality and life, has to correct the conventional theological bias and one-sidedness criticising quantitative empirical research methods. Biblical texts imagine the human species as created beings and free individuals, but likewise as on, which explicitly includes pre-conditions and limitations of individual

154

4.

5.

6.

7.

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

human freedom. Created as social beings they do not spend their life beyond the patterns and forces of social institutions. These institutions do not only impose forces of estrangement through powerful collective structures but provide a frame of possibilities to culture and religion as well, e.g. in symbolic forms like language and ritual. Any good theology takes its point of departure from an understanding of reality, which thinks the world not being at human disposal, but from the realization of its givenness. Theology traces this notion back to a special mode of givenness, described as process of revelation. The overall theoretical interest of theology is not directed towards a view of isolated mental robots without subjectivity, instead towards inter-active subject engaged in living relations. Based on this interest does not follow a positivist ideal of objectivity, rather an emphasis on the concern for human beings as knowing subjects. The Old Testament image of Covenant depicts an ideal of self responsible human beings, who nevertheless are addressed in their inter-subjective relatedness. This habit of knowing towards reality includes a task to change the world as well as to ethical responsibility (within steps of knowing and of instrumental activity). In this line theology is especially interested in strategy and methodology of empirical research, which stresses the “subjective factor”. It is up to further and concrete evaluation to show in how far a theological notion of human subjectivity is followed in methods of empirical research – and in how far it is not. Theology comprehends and discloses reality as praxis of life between lived experience and pathos. This includes a pathic element within the process of knowing. Therefore, theology might be called a “science of reality” only if it follows this insight. Because “suffering is the reality, to which the gospel relates […]. Loss of reality occurs, whenever we withdraw ourselves from the truth of suffering and thus ground hope in an unrealistic way […]. Practical theology might escape the very and decisive loss of reality only if it conceives itself as scientia praxeos crucis” (Schröer: 1974, 224; translation HGH). Theology with its models of thinking and perspectives to reflect participates in academic communication of the surrounding culture. This is also relevant for appropriate forms to describe and to conceive reality in general conceptual terms. Theology relating its access to mundane reality to the sources of Scripture nevertheless claims truth also in metaphoric and poetic description of reality.

Reconstructing Lived Religion

155

References BERKELEY, G. (1949/1713), Three Dialogues between Hylas and Philonous 3, in: Works, vol. 2, ed. by T.E. Jessop, London. BROWNING, D.A (1991), Fundamental Practical Theology, Minneapolis. BUYTENDIJK, F. (1956), Allgemeine Theorie der menschlichen Haltung und Bewegung, Berlin. COBB, J. (1969), What Is Alive and What Is Dead in Empirical Theology?, in: B.E. Meland (ed.), The Future of Empirical Theology, Chicago, 89–101. COLPE, C. (1983), Article: Religion und Religionswissenschaft, TRT 4, 1983, 123–127. CSIKSCENTMIHALYI, M. (1990), Flow – The Psychology of Optimal Experience, New York. COLPE, C. (1997), Die wissenschaftliche Beschäftigung mit “dem Heiligen” und “das Heilige” heute, in: D. Kamper/C. Wulf (ed.), Das Heilige. Seine Spur in der Moderne, Frankfurt/Main, 33ff. DEAN, W. (1990), Empirical Theology: A Revisable Tradition, in: Process Studies 19. DILTHEY, W. (1985/1905), Experience and Poetry: Lessing, Goethe, Novalis and Hölderin [Das Erlebnis und die Dichtung: Lessing, Goethe, Novalis, Hölderin, 1905], Selected Works, vol. V, Princeton, N.J. DINTER, A./HEIMBROCK, H.-G./SÖDERBLOM, K. (ed.) (2007), Einführung in die Empirische Theologie. Gelebte Religion erforschen, Göttingen. DREYER, J./Pieterse, H.J.C./van der Ven, J.A. (1999), Interreligious Orientation among South African Youth, in: Religion and Theology 6, 194–220. FAILING, W.-E./HEIMBROCK, H.-G. (1998), Gelebte Religion wahrnehmen. Lebenswelt – Alltagskultur – Religionspraxis, Stuttgart. FRANCIS, L.J. (2004), Faith and Psychology: Personality, Religion and the Individual, London. FRANCIS, L.J. (2005), Practical and Empirical Theology in the University of Wales, Bangor (http://www.bangor.ac.uk/rs/pt/ptunit/definition.php). GELLER, K.G.H./Pankoke, E. (2001), Ökumene und Gemeinde. Untersuchungen zum Alltag von Kirchengemeinden, Opladen. GEERTZ, C. (1973), Religion as a Cultural System, in: C. Geertz (ed.), The Interpretation of Cultures, New York, 87–125. A GIORI (1997), The Theory, Practice, and Evaluation of the Phenomenological Method as a Qualitative Research Procedure, in: Journal of Phenomenological Psychology 28, 235–260. GRÄB, W. (1998), Lebensgeschichten Lebensentwürfe Sinndeutungen. Eine praktische Theologie gelebter Religion, Gütersloh. GRÖZINGER, A. (1995), Praktische Theologie als Kunst der Wahrnehmung, Gütersloh. GRUEHN, W. (1929), Die empirische Religionsforschung der Gegenwart, in: Archiv für Religionspsychologie und Seelenführung 4, 1929, 1-18. GRUEHN, W. (1936), Empirische Theologie. Zur Einführung, in: Archiv für Religionspsychologie und Seelenführung 6, IX–XVIII. GRUEHN, W., (21960), Die Frömmigkeit der Gegenwart. Grundtatsachen der empirischen Psychologie, Konstanz/Münster. HÄRLE, W. (2001), Dogmatik, Berlin. HEIMBROCK, H.-G. (2004), Given through the Senses. A Phenomenological Model of Empirical Theology, in: J.A. van der Ven/M. Scherer-Rath (ed.), Normativity and Empirical Research in Theology, Leiden, 59–83. HEIMBROCK, H.-G. (2005), From Data to Theory. Elements of Methodology in Empirical Phenomenological Research in Practical Theology, IJPT 9, 273–299. HEIMBROCK, H.-G. (2007), From Action to Lived Experience. Considering Methodological Problems of Modern Practical Theology, in: H. Streib (ed.), Religious Praxis and De-Institutionalized Religion, Leiden, 55–77. HUSSERL, E. (1987/1917), Die reine Phänomenologie, ihr Forschungsgebiet und ihre Methode (Freiburger Antrittsrede 1917), Aufsätze und Vorträge 1911-1921, ed. by Thomas Nenon/Hans Rainer Sepp.

156

Hans-Günter Heimbrock

HUSSERL, E. (1936), The Crisis of European Science and Transcendental Philosophy, Evanston, Ill. VAN MANEN, M. (1990), Researching Lived Experience. Human Science for an Action Sensitive Pedagogy, New York. MACINTOSH, D.C. (1919) Theology as an Empirical Science, New York. MÄDLER, I. (2006), Transfigurationen. Materielle Kultur in praktisch-theologischer Perspektive, Gütersloh. MELAND, B.E. (1934), The Appreciative Approach in Religion, JR 14, 194–204. MELAND, B.E. (1953a), Higher Education and the Human Spirit, Chicago. MELAND, B.E. (1953b), Faith and Culture, New York. MELAND, B.E. (ed.) (1969), The Future of Empirical Theology, Chicago. MELAND, B.E. (1969a), Introduction: The Empirical Tradition in Theology at Chicago, in: id. (ed.), The Future of Empirical Theology, 1–65. MELAND, B.E. (1969b), Can Empirical Theology Learn Something from Phenomenology? in: B.E. Meland (ed.), The Future of Empirical Theology, 283–306. MELAND, B.E. (1976), Fallible Forms and Symbols, Philadelphia. MERLEAU-PONTY, M. (1964), Philosophy of Perception, translated by Arleen B. Dallery, Evanston. METTE, N. (1978), Theorie der Praxis, Düsseldorf. MILL, J.S. (1969/1865), A. Comte and Positivism, in: Coll. Works, vol. 10, ed. by J.M. Robson, London. MILLER, R.C. (ed.), (1992) Empirical Theology. A Handbook, Birmingham. MITTELSTRASS, J. (1962), Die Rettung der Phänomene, Ursprung und Geschichte eines antiken Forschungsprinzips, Berlin. MORAN, D. (2000) Introduction to Phenomenology, London/New York. MORGENTHALER, C. (2005), Normative Implications of Designing Empirical Research, in: J.A. van der Ven/M. Scherer-Rath (ed.), Normativity and Empirical Research in Theology, 2004, Leiden, 179–198. MOUSTAKAS, C. (1994) Phenomenological Research Methods, Thousand Oaks, CA. MOXTER, M. (2001), Die Phänomene der Phänomenologie, in: W.-E. Failing/H.-G. Heimbrock/ T.A. Lotz (ed.), Religion als Phänomen. Sozialwissenschaftliche, theologische und philosophische Erkundungen in der Lebenswelt, Berlin, 85–95. ROGERS, D.J. (1990), The American Empirical Movement in Theology, New York. POLANYI, M. (1974/1958), Personal Knowledge: Towards a Post-Critical Philosophy, Chicago. SCHOLTZ, C. (2005), Leben mit dem Roboter – Leben im Roboter? Zur theologischen Dimension der alltäglichen Wahrnehmung des Roboterhundes Aibo, in: Magazin für Theologie und Ästhetik 35 (http://www.theomag.de/35/crs1.htm). SCHOLTZ, C. (2007), Alltag mit künstlichen Wesen. Theologische Implikationen eines Lebens mit subjektsimulierenden Maschinen am Beispiel des Unterhaltungsroboters Aibo (unpublished doctoral thesis, Department of Protestant Theology, Goethe-University, Frankfurt/Main). SCHRÖER, H. (1974), Forschungsmethoden in der Praktischen Theologie, in: F. Klostermann/ R. Zerfaß (ed), Praktische Theologie heute, München/Mainz, 206–224. SIMMEL, G. (1989/1898), Zur Soziologie der Religion, in: Georg Simmel, Gesammelte Schriften zur Religionssoziologie, Berlin, 36–51. STONE, B.P. (1996), Compassionate Ministry. Theological Foundations, New York. TAPPAN, M.B. (1997), Interpretive Psychology: Stories, Circles, and Understanding Lived Experience, Journal of Social Issues 53, 645–656. TILLICH, P. (1947), The Problem of Theological Method, JR 27, 1–18. VAN DER VEN, J.A. (1990), Entwurf einer empirischen Theologie, Weinheim/Kampen. VAN DER VEN, J.A. (1993), Practical Theology. An Empirical Approach, Grand Rapids. VAN DER VEN, J.A. (2002), An Empirical or a Normative Approach to Practical-Theological Research? A False Dilemma, JET 15, 5–33. WAARDENBURG, J. (1978), Reflections on the Study of Religion, The Hague. WALDENFELS, B. (1995), The Other and the Foreign, in: Special Issue: Ricœur at 80. Philosophy and Social Criticism, 21, 111–124.

Reconstructing Lived Religion

157

WALDENFELS, B. (1997), Topographie des Fremden. Studien zur Phänomenologie des Fremden 1, Frankfurt/Main. WALDENFELS, B. (2002), Bodily Experience between Selfhood and Otherness (Lecture given on September 12, 2002 at the official opening of the Danish National Research Foundation: Center for Subjectivity Research (http://www.cfs.ku.dk/Waldenfels-opening-lecture.pdf (download 09/06/2005). WIESING L. (2002), Philosophie der Wahrnehmung, Frankfurt/Main. WULFF, D.M. (1991), Psychology of Religion. Classic and Contemporary Views, New York.

3 Discussing the Notion of Experience Experience as Interpretation A Peircean Approach to Practical Theology GESCHE LINDE Goethe-University, Frankfurt/Main, Germany

In which sense may ‘experience’ – supposing we had a precise definition at our disposal – be attributed as ‘immediate’, as the title of the volume on hand suggests? This question certainly is one of the topics of 18th, 19th, and 20th century philosophy, if not even one of the main ones, at some times openly debated, at others directing the scene from backstage. What is the ‘immediacy’ hypothesis spelt out to say? Obviously, this differs according to whom of its defenders one turns to. ‘Immediacy’ has been ascribed to our insight into the first principles of knowledge, to our cognition of innate ideas, to the impressions of the senses, or even to the nonobjectifying feeling of one’s self; and in most cases it has been taken as a guarantee for the correspondence of what is ‘experienced’ ‘immediately’ with reality itself, or at least as the irreplaceable starting point for the acquisition of true knowledge.1 In today’s philosophy of mind – which is where the ‘immediacy’ topic currently seems to turn up most frequently – discussion focusses on whether there is a consciousness which is immediate in the sense of pre-conceptual (and, consequently, pre-lingustic) and, if this is the case, how preconceptual and conceptual consciousnesses relate to each other. One of the manifold aspects of this problem has during past decades become known under the heading of ‘qualia’, i.e. homogeneous and immediately felt sensequalities accessible to the feeling organism exclusively. Corollary questions would be whether qualia can be expressed through words, whether they are of any cognitive value, and if so, how they contribute to the formation of our belief-systems, etc. Another aspect of the ‘immediacy’ problem, and 1 Introductions to the topic are offered by A. Arndt (2004; 2001) and C. Zimmermann (1995), cf. also Hampe (2006).

160

Gesche Linde

possibly a more insidious one, is whether relations – which by definition do not belong to qualia since qualia are thought to be non-relative entities – can be subject of ‘immediate experience’, too, i.e. whether they can be perceived ‘immediately’. In the following, neither will I engage in present philosophy of mind debates nor will I go into the details of some dispute going on in past centuries. Instead, I am going to introduce the semiotic theory of the American philosopher Charles Sanders Peirce in order to maintain that (1) while ‘experience’ is best to be thought of in terms of interpretation, (2) the ‘immediacy’ of ‘experience’ (or interpretation) can still be maintained in a certain – albeit merely abstract – sense. I will then claim that (3) theology shares with other academic subjects the task of exploring so-called interpretants, even though these interpretants differ by their semiotic status, and that (4) a certain species of interpretants form the exclusive domain of practical theology, practical theology thus being distinguished from other branches of theology by its focus on interpretants which are relatively closer to ‘immediacy’ – so to speak – than others e.g. focussed on by systematic theology.

1. Experience as Interpretation As soon as one takes account of ‘experience’ as a process within time, one will have to suppose some kind of mediating element binding the past remembered to the present moment and prolonging the present into an anticipated future. The German Romanticist F.D.E. Schleiermacher, one of the ancestors of today’s philosophy of mind (even though maybe only a distant one), is known to have ascribed this function to what he called the “immediate self-consciousness”, or “feeling”, feeling being the underlying texture connecting the single moments of time filled by the activities of mediate (i.e. objective) consciousness. Facing the same theoretical problem, the American Pragmatist C. Peirce, by contrast, conceptualizes the stream of consciousness – in order to use a famous expression brought up by his friend W. James – as a chain (or web, rather) of sign-interpretation processes. Something – the “sign” – is related to another something – the “object” – the result being a third something – the “interpretant” – through which the “sign” is understood as referring to its “object”. Some examples: A fox, having sniffed the rabbit’s smell (sign), will instantly relate that smell to something eatable (object), and follow the smell further on (interpretant). If I am sitting on a parkbench on a hot summer’s afternoon, I will feel the heat on my skin (sign) and know at the same time (interpretant) that it is the sun (object) which is blazing down on me. The tourist who happens

Experience as Interpretation

161

to see a signpost with a blue rectangle in a vertical position with a dot above it (sign) will be able to recognize this as the letter “i”, painted in blue colour (object), and thereby learn (interpretant) that a tourist information center is near, etc. The chain – or web – of sign-interpretation processes originates from the continuous transformation of signs into interpretants, and of interpretants into fresh signs, i.e. starting points for further interpretation processes, as well as into objects. The fox might uphold its search for the rabbit for a while even after having lost the trail, simply because the notion of rabbit as something eatable which might be worthwhile to follow further on is still present to its mind somehow, and is used by the fox as a sign for a nice meal in waiting (object), resulting in its determination (interpretant) to try and find the scent again. Knowing that it is the sun I am sitting in, and having read that UV rays may turn carcinogenic, I will relate that knowledge (sign) to the sun blazing down on me as a possible of source of danger to my health (object) and then decide (interpretant) to get my sunmilk, or to retire to the shadow. The tourist, having learnt from the blue “i” that a tourist information center is near, will use that conclusion as a sign for the possibility of information about sight-seeing attractions, accomodation etc. (object), and obediently turn into that direction (interpretant). It might be worthwhile to mention that only by the transformation of interpretants into signs a sense of the permanence of things in space as well as of the continuity of time is created – not just in human beings, but in a rudimentary way probably also in higher animals – which would not be the case if signs were merely won from an ever-new input of the senses, with interpretive processes suddenly breaking off right after the production of the correlative interpretants. Already in his earlier years Peirce had distinguished between different structures within each the sign, the object, and the interpretant. However, from 1903 onwards he gradually elaborated his still comparatively simple model (simple like most great ideas) until he finally had an instrument at hand to analyse virtually any process of mind, from spontaneous emotions or impulsive reactions to habitualized behavior, and even most complex linguistic (respectively conceptual) processes. By 1904, he had come to differentiate two kinds of objects, the ‘immediate’ object and the ‘dynamic’ one, and three kinds of interpretants, namely the ‘immediate’ interpretant, the ‘dynamic’ interpretant, and the ‘normal’ interpretant (the two latter ones as well as the dynamic object being subject to further subdivisions in 1905 which will not be dwelt on here). What do these distinctions mean? The immediate interpretant is that interpretant which results from the sign being related to its immediate object; it is the very first response to the object as presented by the sign (and in some cases, the only one). Immediate interpretants do not contain any information about the actual existence

162

Gesche Linde

of the sign’s immediate object – in this sense, they are non-intentional – and indeed cannot do so because the immediate object by definition is not represented by the sign as an existing entity at all, but as a mere appearance, fluent and instable: it is whatever the sign reveals at the very first glance, before the consultation of any additional background knowledge previously accumulated about that object, or that very sort of object. Psychologically, immediate interpretants manifest themselves as feelings. For the sheer appetite to be felt by the fox (immediate interpretant), the smell (sign) stimulating that appetite has not yet to be ‘ascribed’ by the fox to some ‘existing’ entity ‘possessing’ or even ‘causing’ that smell (dynamic object); it has only to be understood as promising some delight (immediate object). Likewise, I do not have to interpret the heat on my skin (sign) as an effect of the afternoon’s sun in order to derive pleasure (immediate interpretant) from this very warmth (immediate object). And the tourist may emotionally react with a sense of familiarity (immediate interpretant) to the special form and colour of the blue letter “i” (immediate object) which he recognizes in that blue rectangle with the dot (sign), or with relief (immediate interpretant) to the idea of a tourist information center nearby (sign) promising support (immediate object). These diverse examples illustrate that immediate objects are represented by their corresponding immediate interpretants as what one might call qualities: not necessarily homogeneous ones, but qualities of a complex structure as well. Indeed, it is the semiotic analysis which persuaded Peirce to postulate qualities as possible objects of signs, and consequently to assume qualities as having some sort of metaphysical status. The dynamic interpretant, by contrast, results from the sign being related to its dynamic object, that is, to the object inasmuch as it is understood as an external entity bringing about the sign, or standing in some actual connection with the sign. The dynamic interpretant thus manifests itself as a reaction to or an action upon the object inasmuch as it is displayed by the sign as an existing thing, or as a matter of fact: Dynamic interpretants are of an intentional nature. For a dynamic interpretant to develop, the present information about the object as shown by the sign – i.e. about the immediate object – has to be linked with some previous information about that very same object, or similar objects. So dynamic objects originally develop from the comparison and ‘addition’ (so to speak) of immediate objects; they are of a bipolar structure. Once having consolidated, they accumulate further properties through any further sign being related to it and thereby produce an interpretant: which is why they are called by Peirce ‘dynamic’. The fox taking pains to follow (dynamic interpretant) the scent of the rabbit (sign) over hedge and ditch does so because it not just feels the smell to promise some relish (immediate object), but due to its past encounters with rabbits at

Experience as Interpretation

163

the same time ‘presupposes’ that the rabbit tracked will prove to be some thing (dynamic object) to be distinguished from its mere smell, a thing to strike one’s teeth into and fill one’s stomach with, with eyes, ears, legs and a fur, moving, offering meat, etc. When I am sitting in the sun and despite the pleasure decide to withdraw, my reaction (dynamic interpretant) is directed towards the sun as known by me to be an existing thing of possible danger to my body (dynamic object). And the tourist directing his or her steps (dynamic interpretant) into the direction of the blue “i” (sign) obviously assumes that he or she will find some building there (dynamic object) with a desk inside and a person sitting behind handing out brochures about accommodation. While an immediate interpretant can only turn into a sign to be used by the interpreting organism exclusivly, dynamic interpretants (even if of a passive or involuntary nature, e.g. in the case of a spontaneous blushing) are observable to others and so possibly become signs to them because they manifest themselves in form of bodily changes. Dynamic interpretants thus divide from immediate interpretants by breaking the barriers of secluded privacy: they constitute social interaction. The normal interpretant, finally, results not just from the sign being related to its dynamic object, but in addition accounts for the kind of that relation more or less explicitly. Clearly this is the case with propositions and arguments. Arguments arrange their components – propositions – such that one of them functions as sign and the other one or the others as object, so that on this basis the interpretant interprets the original sign as being true (that is: as being a reliable interpretant of its object, namely, some kind of equivalent to the object) or not. In other words: by revealing the kind of relation leading from the sign-object relation to an interpretant, an argument displays how a statement, or a complex of statements, is tied to some previous assertion in order to prove the latter’s soundness. Propositions relate the terms they consist of – one of them playing the role of sign, the other one that of object – such as to express whether that relation is to be understood as a possible, a factual, or a necessary one. Even a mere term represents a relation between sign and object: a permanent relation successfully established and thereby enabling the development of a fixed interpretant, even if the exact kind of relation between sign and object remains unexpressed. The specific function of normal interpretants, compared with dynamic and immediate ones, is to allow reference to dynamic objects even if these are absent from the scene. Psychologically speaking, they manifest themselves as conceptual processes; so they require the ability of mental representation. If it is symbols they interpret, they facilitate intersubjective communication about something. Just as dynamic interpretants presuppose immediate interpretants – living beings will only react to or act upon something if they are stimulated by feeling, too – normal interpretants presuppose dynamic

164

Gesche Linde

ones insofar as they involve action: Speaking, for instance, requires controlled movements of tongue and lips, or even hands and feet. The semiotic model invented by Peirce is apt to make clear why ‘experience’ has always been an ambiguous concept, to say the least. This is because it can be linked to virtually any position within the sign-objectinterpretant structure. It can be linked to the sign: The fox might be said to ‘experience’ the rabbit’s smell; if I am sitting on a parkbench on a summer’s afternoon, I will ‘experience’ the pleasure of feeling the heat on my skin; and the tourist ‘experiences’ the blue upright rectangle with the dot. The concept can equally well be linked to the object, whether the immediate or the dynamic one: The fox has an ‘experience’ of the rabbit as smelt (immediate object), or has had ‘experiences’ of previous rabbits (dynamic object) to which the ‘experience’ of the present rabbit now adds. When I am sitting on the parkbench feeling the heat on my skin, I ‘experience’ the warmth here and now (immediate object), and at the same time know it is the sun blazing down on me, thereby broadening my past ‘experience’ of the sun (dynamic object), whether gained by feeling, or observation, or reading etc. The tourist ‘experiences’ the letter “i” painted in blue (immediate object), and will also have had an ‘experience’ of similar blue “i”s beforehand, as well as of tourist information centers (dynamic objects). Finally, the concept of ‘experience’ also points to the interpretants, especially to the immediate and normal ones. The fox ‘experiences’ appetite in response to the rabbit’s scent (immediate interpretant), and in addition might even have something like a dim notion of rabbit (normal interpretant), some forerunner of a concept, enabling it to focus its attention on the search even after having lost the trail. When sensing the heat on my skin, I will ‘experience’ pleasure (immediate interpretant), and at the same time will have an ‘experience’ in the form of being conscious of the sun conceived by me as sun explicitly (normal interpretant). The tourist may ‘experience’ familiarity when seeing that “i”, or relief, if having searched for a signpost like this for long hours (immediate interpretants); and he or she may also be said to ‘experience’ the sudden insight that there is a tourist information center nearby, or the determination to go there instantly (normal interpretants). Examples like these, by the way, show that we are quite used to understand the concept of ‘experience’ in the sense of immediate and (although less so) normal interpretants, that is, feelings, perceptions, thoughts, but oddly tend to exclude from it actions, i.e. dynamic interpretants (the following of the trail, the getting of the sunmilk, the turning into a special direction). So the sign-object-interpretant model would indeed advise us to extend the concept of ‘experience’ such as to comprise reactions, actions, habits, etc. as well. However, given the fact that the sign-object-interpretant model can be used like a microscope lense allowing to inspect that somewhat mashy concept

Experience as Interpretation

165

of ‘experience’ more closely, and to analyse it according to internal structure, I should rather suggest, on behalf of accuracy, to abandon it altogether in certain contexts, and to speak of interpretation instead.

2. Experience and Immediacy The terminology used by Peirce indicates where ‘immediacy’ comes in. At first glance, one might hold the sign itself to be attributed as ‘immediate’. Yet ‘immediate’ to what – to the mind as some sort of interpreting instance (in our examples the minds of the fox, myself, and the tourist)? One of the points made by Peirce is that the ‘mind’ is not to be introduced to the semiotic model as some fourth correlative in addition to sign, object, and interpretant, or as some mysterious agent perceiving signs, relating them to objects and forming interpretants, or as some virtual space where the interpretation processes takes place. Rather, ‘mind’ is thought by him to be identical with the interpretants formed in response to signs being related to objects. In short, ‘mind’ is constituted by interpretation, or rather is nothing else but interpretation. So if it is not the ‘mind’ to which the sign is ‘immediate’, will it perhaps be the external world instead to which not the sign but the interpretant is ‘immediate’? To put it bluntly: do we have an immediate grasp of reality? Peirce talks about reality exclusively in semiotic terms, namely in terms of dynamic objects. Now the relation between dynamic object and dynamic or normal interpretant presupposes the relation between sign and immediate object so that neither interpretant can be said to be ‘immediate’ to the dynamic object. Strictly speaking, not even the relation between immediate interpretant and immediate object is ‘immediate’; rather, it is the relation between sign and immediate object which is ‘immediate’ to the immediate interpretant. (The slightly misleading term “immediate interpretant” was probably chosen by Peirce to create a clear distinction from the dynamic and normal interpretants – the immediate interpretant, in a relative sense, is much more ‘immediate’ to the sign than dynamic and normal interpretants – and also to point to the correspondence between the immediate interpretant and the immediate object. At other places he talks about the “emotional interpretant”, the “impressional interpretant”, or the “initial interpretant”.) In fact, ‘immediacy’ properly applies only to the relation between sign and immediate object: that is, to the relation between the sign and what the sign reveals without the usage of any previous knowledge. In other words: The relation between sign and immediate object does not develop by means of a third entity, so in this sense both are ‘immediate’ to each other. Still, the

166

Gesche Linde

immediate interpretant’s relation to the immediate object is mediated by the sign, and thus is not ‘immediate’ at all. Avoiding the terminology ‘immediacy’ and ‘mediacy’ – which indeed seems confusing and inadequate in the semiotic context – Peirce himself prefers to call the sign a “first”, thereby indicating that the function of the sign is to trigger the interpretation process, and to act as the medium through which the object is conceived, or interpreted. The object features as a “second” because it is secondary to the sign. The interpretant, finally, as the result or the product of the relation between sign and object, is a “third”; it mediates between sign and object. In order to function as a sign at all, a sign requires an immediate object and an immediate interpretant at least. At the same time, the triadic relation between sign, immediate object, and immediate interpretant forms the necessary basis for the development of more complex structures involving dynamic and normal interpretants. So the relation between sign, immediate object, and immediate interpretant, being the minimum requirement for any semiotic structure, lies at the inner core of all interpretation processes. Accordingly, there are no conceptual thinking and no acting without some preconceptual quality of feeling accompanying them. “Emotion” – the term used by Peirce – might be slightly too strong a word for what is meant here, but the more vague German “Befindlichkeit” or “Stimmung” (taken from the vocabulary of the Romantics) should capture quite well what Peirce conceives as the immediate interpretant. So ‘immediacy’ in the sense described above – the direct presentation of some unrelated property, some coincidence of properties or some property structure through the sign being converted into an immediate interpretant, and represented by feeling – is part of any interpretation process, no matter how elaborated it may be. This even applies if the sign in question is the result of some complicated line of thought, that is, if it is a concept or a conglomerate of concepts, and accordingly belongs into the class of normal interpretants; or if it is an action – observed in myself or others, falling under the rubric of dynamic interpretants. Both of them, used as signs, do inevitably produce immediate interpretants. Even, say, a mathematician intensely absorbed in his formulas will, at each moment, feel somehow, although this feeling will not linger in the foreground of his attention but rather shape his mood unconsciously. As Peirce puts it: “Every operation of the mind, however complex, has its absolutely simple feeling, the emotion of the tout ensemble.” (Peirce: 1931/1907, §311). However, feelings as such cannot be said to be conscious: this would only be the case if they were represented by normal interpretants, and thus became subject of memory or reflection. As Peirce says: feeling is nothing but a quality, and a quality is not conscious: it is a mere possibility. We can, it is true, see what a feeling in general is like; that, for example, this or that

Experience as Interpretation

167

red is a feeling; and it is perfectly conceivable that a being should have that color for its entire consciousness, throughout a lapse of time, and therefore at every instant of that time. But such a being could never know anything about its own consciousness. It could not think anything that is expressible as a proposition. It could have no idea of such a thing. It would be confined to feeling that color. (Peirce: 1931/1907, §110) As for the pure feeling, that is a hypothetical entity, and is as completely veiled from me by its own immediacy [...]. (Peirce: 1958/1893, §465)

In human beings, especially in grown-ups, immediate interpretants are usually overlayed by dynamic and normal interpretants anyway: rarely ever are we so engrossed in feeling that we manage to keep away reacting or thinking, and to barricade ourselves completely against any conceptualizations. Even if we, when sitting in the afternoon’s sun, abandon to the pleasant heat, we usually cannot help to simply know that this is the sun we are sitting in. The semiotic model of Peirce accounts for what might otherwise be described as the multi-layeredness of consciousness: In one and the same moment of time immediate, dynamic and normal interpretants overlap; they coexist and associate. However, any grasp of objects is through interpretants and depends on the processing of signs: A given interpretant, occupying one’s ‘mind’, does so by relating some sign to some object; so our access to that object – even if it is a mere quale – never occurs without having taken notice of the corresponding sign. Which means that ‘immediacy’, strictly speaking, is a later abstraction born by theory – although an unrenouncable one; it is something we, on the basis of the presumptions made here, have to postulate with regard to the relation between sign and immediate object, but it is certainly nothing to be ascribed directly to the relation between our ‘minds’ and the contents of our mental states, or between ourselves and the external world. Again: This is not to say that there are no preconceptual processes. On the contrary, according to Peirce preconceptual processes are the nucleus of conceptual ones, and are their constant companions. Still, even preconceptual processes participate in the structure of interpretation, and insofar are no more ‘immediate’ than conceptual processes are. Our thinking and our acting is mediated by signs, and so is our feeling. The interpretants constituting ‘mind’ or consciousness always contain relations between sign and object. ‘Mind’ works but in the form of triadic relations, it is the very embodiment of triadic relationality. (This, by the way, is the basis of Peirce’s concept of phenomenon which we will not touch here.) On the condition introduced here – namely that although all interpretation involves immediate objects, that is, objects immediately presented by signs – our grasp of those objects through immediate interpretants never occurs without signs and insofar is mediated (and is so concerning dynamic

168

Gesche Linde

objects grasped through dynamic and normal interpretants, anyhow), one has to conclude that the boundary between ‘experience’ and ‘research’ runs not as sharply as the title of the present volume suggests, and not along the lines of ‘immediacy’ and ‘mediacy’. Rather, there seems to be a continuum of a ‘less’ and a ‘more’: the more developed, elaborated, reflected and controlled ‘experience’ gets – that is, the more it transforms immediate and dynamic interpretants into normal ones, and the more these normal interpretants allow the assignment of truth values eventually – the closer does it come to ‘research’.

3. Theology and the Task of Interpretation What is particularly interesting in the Peircean model is that it not only allows to determine the meaning of terms by exploring how these terms can be used, that is, how they can be joined with other terms in order to form propositions, and how propositions can be linked with other propositions in order to establish an argument in favour for or against their truth, but that it also allows to enquire about those interpretive processes terms themselves are the result of (even though Peirce himself did not follow this line of thought extensively). In other words, the semiotic system of the ten trichotomies sheds light on the question of the genesis of concepts. Roughly speaking, concepts are normal interpretants which have, in the end, evolved from the transformation of dynamic interpretants, these in their turn going back to immediate interpretants. For the concept ‘sun’ to develop, at first single qualities – let’s say the sensations ‘hot’ and ‘yellow’ – must have been connected so that together they could be understood as the representative of an individual thing being hot and yellow and provoking reactions or actions (for instance hiding in the shadow spontaneously, or pointing gestures). As soon as this combination of sensations would have become a recognizable scheme (a so-called ‘type’), it would have permitted to understand the thing represented as a stable, permanent entity within time and space, behaving in a regular way, thereby promoting the development of fixed patterns of conduct, and finally facilitating the steady assignment of some perceivable thing or action to it by which symbolic reference would have been made possible. If Peirce’s assumption that concepts, including fictional ones, evolve from earlier, i.e. non-conceptual stages of interpretive processes is true, then concepts, even the most abstract ones, inevitably require sensations to develop in the first place (Peirce’s position is quite close to that of Aristotle here); they fuse different conceptional elements which may have developed in different ways but ultimately result from

Experience as Interpretation

169

sensations each. Concepts, it might be added, are not necessarily of a symbolical character; they can also be indexical: The fox having taken up the scent will probably not have a really conceptual grasp of rabbit, arbitrarily retrievable, but it may, in that very situation, produce something like a dim notion of rabbit, evoked by the smell and going back to its remembrance of the connection between previous rabbits and just that type of smell. Taking the Peirce model of interpretive processes sketched out here at face value, which consequences may we draw for the conception of theological research, or of theology as an academic subject? First of all, the diverse subjects established at university can be understood as focussing on various types of normal interpretants, and as being divided from one another by the semiotic status of those normal interpretants. This would amount to a formal principle of classification instead of the rather methodically or materially orientated distinction between “sciences” and “humanities”, or “Naturwissenschaften” and “Geisteswissenschaften” (respectively “Kulturwissenschaften”). For normal interpretants, even if they are identical or at least similar in structure – let’s say the terms ‘square root’, ‘cell’, ‘Nero’, or ‘God’ – may still differ according to their genesis, namely according to the interpretants they themselves are based upon, that is, according to the interpretants having functioned as signs to them. Also, they will differ according to their interpretability, that is, according to their usability as signs for further interpretation processes. The concepts of mathematics, for instance, to a large extent are part of a deductive system, that is, they originate from reductions of previous concepts which have also been generated deductively. Higher numbers which lie far beyond the range of ordinary counting, say 4576 or 3217, are derived from the ideas of number, and of addition or multiplication; and their meanings may primarily consist in their employability for further additions or multiplications. The concept of square root is derived from the ideas of number, of multiplication, and of equality; and its meaning will again depend on its usability for mathematical operations. So mathematics, although eventually having taken its starting point from a very down-to-earth activity, namely counting, and thus presupposing sense perception just like any other of the sciences and humanities, itself is a far cry from those perceptual processes indeed because mathematical concepts originate from a complex series of many diverse steps. Biological concepts like ‘cell’, by comparison, stem from interpretation processes which at first sight appear to be closer to perception inasmuch as they require observation (even if that observation is purposive and has to follow methodical rules), and inasmuch as their usefulness lies in their applicability to further observations. However, they require at least the means of generalization in order to interpret what has been observed, and in many cases are so far from perception that technical devices are needed in

170

Gesche Linde

order to verify what has been postulated beforehand. Other subjects like history which similarly draw from what has been perceived may focus not on the general but rather on the particular. ‘Nero’ is a concept which refers to an individual although that individual can be described in general terms, too (e.g. as belonging to the classes of Romans, of rulers, etc.). Still, even concepts like ‘Nero’ need reports of bygone witnesses for their dynamic objects to be qualified as real, that is, they need special methods of verification. So although these examples give but a very rough indication of how to proceed for a classification of the sciences (including the humanities), it still seems clear that it is not so much the semiotic distance (so to speak) of the scientific concepts from the perceivable world, or their degree of abstractness which would be apt to serve as an adequate criterion. Rather, the criterion would be the degree of distance between the normal interpretants actually used by the sciences, and their preceding dynamic interpretants, especially the kinds of relations between those normal and dynamic interpretants, as well as the kinds of transformability of the normal interpretants into subsequent normal interpretants. Theology is united with other disciplines in that its task is interpretation, namely, interpretation of interpretants, that is: interpretation of signs resulting from earlier processes of interpretation, these processes being rooted in sensation eventually. Theology is divided from other subjects, though, by the way its concepts have developed from previous interpretants because other than religious studies theology takes the standpoint of faith. This means that it conveys the interpretants brought up by faith into the present by explicating them according to contemporary standards. However, a concept of faith like ‘God’, presupposing several other concepts, presumably is composed in a manner different from the composition of concepts in fields like mathematics or biology. Also, its interpretability may be different from that of other concepts: Whether its dynamic object may lay claim to reality or not cannot be decided by deductive reductions or inductive tests. Instead, belief in a proposition referring to that object is conditioned by processes which Peirce called abductions: spontaneous inferences which, from a logical perspective, do not reveal what is or must be true but only what might be true. Abductions are closely related to associations; they fit new concepts into the existing inventories of interpretants formed by the respective individuals, and at the same time broaden those inventories substantially. So the intersubjective agreement on central normal interpretants dealt with by theology is not, and cannot be, a general one but depends on established belief-systems varying from individual to individual.

Experience as Interpretation

171

4. The Challenge of Practical Theology If Christian faith is considered a wealth of diverse interpretants – immediate, dynamic, and normal ones – and if a classification of the sciences (including the humanities) depends on the types of relations between normal interpretants and preceding dynamic ones as well as subsequent normal ones, then two ideas will suggest themselves: (a) Christian theology, as the self-explication of Christian faith according to academic standards, is to be divided into its various branches according to the sorts of normal interpretants produced and dealt with. (b) Christian theology must produce normal interpretants which in their turn interpret not only normal interpretants but dynamic interpretants as well, namely the dynamic interpretants brought about by faith. (Immediate interpretants as such cannot be a matter of research because they manifest themselves as private feelings only; in order to be communicated to others, they have to be expressed through observable actions, that is, dynamic interpretants, or through language, that is, normal interpretants). I would like to suggest here that while biblical exegesis and church history primarily interpret normal interpretants in form of historical texts, or drawn from historical texts, and use them in a quasiindexical function, namely as indicators for some past state of things, and while systematic theology interprets normal interpretants drawn from historical as well as contemporary texts, and employs them as symbols, namely as representatives of reality, the genuine scope of practical theology is the interpretation of dynamic interpretants: Practical theology observes the present behavior of believers, in the very situation that behavior occurs. (Again, these descriptions are imprecise, but for the present purpose we can leave it with them. Of course, the historical disciplines of theology do not only focus on texts but may also employ non-linguistic artefacts, for example archeological findings. However, such artefacts, when excavated, are no dynamic interpretants anymore; rather, they are interpreted in form of normal interpretants.) This is not to say that practical theology would not deal with normal interpretants processing normal interpretants as well: of course it does and has to do so, as for instance the intricate and elaborated theories on various topics, whether religious education or homiletics etc., illustrate. Still, if Christian faith is constituted not just by immediate and normal interpretants, but by dynamic ones as well, then we will have to provide a realm within theology which is committed to those dynamic interpretants exclusively – if not, theology would miss a whole dimension of Christian faith – and this realm clearly belongs to practical theology. In Germany, a semiotic approach to Practical Theology has been suggested by the Practical Theologians W. Engemann, T. Klie, M. Meyer-Blanck, and R. Volp. Enge-

172

Gesche Linde

mann considers semiotics “a general theory of communication” (2003, 189; cf. esp. 167–212) and a descriptive matrix to be used by practical theology in order to decipher cultural and religious codes, as well as to clarify their genesis (cf. also Engemann: 1993). Klie combines the concept of sign with that of play, and presents pastoral theology as a theory of the pastoral play with signs (2003, 166–233). MeyerBlanck adopts semiotics as a formal instrument which allows to grasp the full variety of possible decipherments of signs, and regards the study, the employment, and the critique of sign usage as the main task of religious education (cf. esp. Meyer-Blanck: 2002, 122–131; cf. also 1999, 90–100). And Volp focusses on Christian worship as a semiotic process (1992, 175–186, cf. esp. 179). – The paper presented here adopts a slightly different course by following Peirce instead of Eco, Saussure, Derrida, or Greimas, by using Peirce’s fully developed system of the ten trichotomies (see above), by taking the interpretant as a starting point for analysis instead of the sign, by distinguishing between different kinds of interpretants, and finally by employing the semiotic sign-object-interpretant structure as a guiding principle for an encyclopaedic classification of the sciences, including theology and its several branches.

Inasmuch as the specific task of practical theology is the production of normal interpretants which go directly back to dynamic interpretants being used as signs and also as dynamic objects, the question needs to be answered what the characteristics of dynamic interpretants are, compared with normal ones, and if there are any methodological conclusions to be drawn. Not being a practical theologian myself, I have to confine myself to some quite vague outlines (none of them being really new, as I would like to add). (1) A dynamic interpretant is the interpretive result of a previous signobject relation, converting this relation not into conceptual thinking but into some reaction to or some action upon the object – that is, the dynamic object – referred to by the sign. One of the tasks of practical theology would therefore be to abstract the underlying sign-object structure from a given dynamic interpretant observed, and to identify both the sign triggering the reaction/action, and the dynamic object the reaction/action is directed at. (Practical theology shares this scope with other empirically oriented humanities as for instance psychology, especially motivation research, or sociology.) Also, dynamic interpretants are less standardized than normal interpretants. They can take the shape of a habit, of course (as for example in case of the military salute given in reaction to some whistle), but in many cases no fixed paths run from the sign-object relation to the dynamic interpretant. So practical theology has to bear in mind that its field is shaped by individuality, individuality of a much higher degree than that embodied in dogmatic texts. This makes practical theology an advocate of particularity, but at the same time requires a certain caution with conclusions of a strongly generalizing tendency. Finally, dynamic interpretants are accompanied by immediate interpretants because the triggering sign is not just interpreted through an reaction/action but inevitably through feeling as

Experience as Interpretation

173

well. Albeit those immediate interpretants are accessible to the interpreting organism exclusively and not to external observers, one of the special chances of practical theology, compared with other theological branches, might be to enquire about those immediate interpretants, that is, about the dimension of feeling going with any observable behavior, although the gap between the feeling itself and its expressions through actions or language by the feeling subject – expressions which in their turn have to be interpreted by the researcher – should always be kept in mind. (2) Dynamic interpretants in their turn can be used by practical theology as fresh signs for dynamic objects (for instance as indicators for social changes going on). Since they manifest themselves in form of bodily changes, e.g. movements, changes of skin colour etc., and since such changes can only be witnessed through bodily means, the category of body is vital for practical theology.2 Also, dynamic interpretants can only function as signs if observed in the very moment they are performed. This means that the practical theologian needs to be present on the scene: He or she has to go where dynamic interpretants relevant for faith actually occur. This is the empirical side of practical theology. Since the practical theologian participates in the situation the dynamic interpretant is embedded in, he/she has to be aware that his/her response – whether in form of immediate interpretants (feelings) or dynamic interpretants (actions/reactions) – will also influence his/her formation of subsequent normal interpretants (this is the well-known problem of bias). (3) Dynamic interpretants can turn into dynamic objects referred to by further signs and producing interpretants: primarily normal ones. This is exactly what practical theology does by reflecting on dynamic interpretants through concepts functioning as signs. The challenge here would be to relate these concepts to the observed dynamic interpretants (i.e. their dynamic objects) in an adequate way. For even if the concepts used as signs by practical theology are identical with those of sociology or psychology etc., practical theology, as a part of theology, will still have to go a step further on, and introduce specifically theological categories, too. So other than purely descriptive disciplines, practical theology will evaluate, express critique, and judge whether the religious practice observed is appropriate or not. This is the normative side of practical theology, and it makes practical theology a close ally of theological ethics.

2 As to the topic of body in practical theology, see the contribution of H.-G. Heimbrock in this volume (cf. also id.: 2006, 43–59, esp. 51–54).

174

Gesche Linde

References ARNDT, A. (2004), Unmittelbarkeit, Bielefeld. ARNDT, A. (2001), Art: Unmittelbarkeit, in: Historisches Wörterbuch der Philosophie, vol. 11, 236–241. ENGEMANN, W. (2003), Personen, Zeichen und das Evangelium. Argumentationsmuster der Praktischen Theologie, Leipzig. ENGEMANN, W. (1993), Semiotische Homiletik. Prämissen – Analysen – Konsequenzen, Tübingen. HAMPE, M. (2006), Funktionen der Unmittelbarkeit, in: ibid., Erkenntnis und Praxis: Zur Philosophie des Pragmatismus, Frankfurt/Main, 76–100. KLIE, T. (2003), Zeichen und Spiel. Semiotische und spieltheoretische Rekonstruktion der Pastoraltheologie, Gütersloh. MEYER-BLANCK, M. (1999), Phänomene und Zeichen. Phänomenologie und Semiotik in der Religionspädagogik, in: T. Klie (ed.), Spiegelflächen. Phänomenologie – Religionspädagogik – Werbung, Münster, 90–100. MEYER-BLANCK, M. (22002), Vom Symbol zum Zeichen. Symboldidaktik und Semiotik, Rheinbach. PEIRCE, C.P. (1931/1907), Collected Papers of Charles Sanders Peirce, vol. 1, ed. by C. Hartshorne/P. Weiss, Cambridge, MA. PEIRCE, C.P. (1958/1893), Collected Papers of Charles Sanders Peirce, vol. 7, ed. by Burks, A.W., Cambridge, MA. VOLP, R. (1992), Der Gottesdienst als semiotische Aufgabe, in: W. Engemann/R.Volp (ed.), Gib mir ein Zeichen. Zur Bedeutung der Semiotik für theologische Praxis- und Denkmodelle, Berlin/ New York, 175–186. ZIMMERMANN, C. (1995), Unmittelbarkeit: Theorien über den Ursprung der Musik und der Sprache in der Ästhetik des 18. Jahrhunderts, Frankfurt/Main et al.

The Semantic Contents of Religious Beliefs and their Secular Translation Jürgen Habermas’ Concept of Religious Experience THOMAS M. SCHMIDT

Goethe-University, Frankfurt/Main, Germany

Jürgen Habermas’ Peace Prize speech (Habermas: 2002b) has been received by some as a self-corrective step away from earlier positions based on the strong assumption of an inherent link between modernity and secularisation. In recent years, there seems to have been a shift in emphasis within Habermas’ conception of secularisation: away from the equation of societal modernisation with secularisation, toward a cautious view of a permanent coexistence of secular and religious convictions, tending toward cooperation (cf. Trautsch: 2004, 180–198). According to Habermas, neither the progressive, optimistic understanding of secularisation as a linear process of progress, nor the conservative, pessimistic model of secularisation as an expropriation of religious ideas, captures the present social reality in which religious communities continue to exist within a secular milieu (cf. Trautsch: 2004, 180–198). Habermas has termed this changed situation the “post-secular society” (Habermas: 2002b). Throughout these changes in his concept of secularisation, though, Habermas has always been guided by the notion that societal modernisation should be understood as a learning process. Without this guiding vision, he believes, the modernising processes of economic, scientific, technical and bureaucratic rationalisation seem to add up to only one half of modernity, amounting to an increase in instrumental reason only, without any increase in enlightenment and autonomy.

1. Linguistification of the Sacred: Modernisation as Secularisation In his main work, The Theory of Communicative Action, Habermas follows M. Weber in assigning to the secularisation process the key role in explaining the development of Occidental rationalism. Secularisation, understood as the linguistification of the binding forces of the sacred and the disenchantment of world views, forms the precondition for the proceduralisation

176

Thomas M. Schmidt

of moral justification, political legitimation and social integration as understood in the context of discursive rationality. The modern differentiation process follows a developmental logic that is geared to a constantly expanding universalisation qua formalisation of competences. Thus the diagnosis of the complete disenchantment of religious world views and the total linguistification of the sacred bears the main argumentative burden in upholding the notion of the now irreversible, necessarily procedural nature of postmetaphysical thinking (cf. Kühnlein: 1996, 390–409; Marsh: 1993, 521– 538; Ceppa: 1998, 515–534). This genesis and unfolding of Occidental rationalism, understood as a process of differentiation, at the same time also creates the methodological preconditions for a normative view of modernity. On closer inspection, Habermas’ theory of secularised modernity proves to be based on a combination of Weber’s theory of the differentiation of value spheres, and Durkheim’s notion of a linguistification of the sacred, through which the potential for rationality inherent in communicative action is freed for the first time. The “socially integrative and expressive functions that were at first fulfilled by ritual practice” pass over to communicative action, and “the authority of the holy is gradually replaced by the authority of an achieved consensus. This means a freeing of communicative action from sacrally protected normative contexts.” (Habermas: 1987, 77). The “spellbinding power of the holy, is sublimated into the binding/bonding force of criticizable validity claims and at the same time turned into an everyday occurrence” (ibid.) – according to Habermas’ cogent theory. This conceptualisation of the modernisation process was criticised on the grounds that it supposedly leads to a dualistic separation of form and content. The tenor of the critique is that too sharp a distinction is drawn here between the reconstruction of anonymous rule systems, and the critical analysis of the factors determining concrete life conduct. The developmental logic of world views, so the critique would have it, was distinguished too sharply from the typology of possible convictions (Habermas: 1984). Since the process of linguistification of the sacred is then understood as the emergence of “culture-invariant validity claims” (Habermas: 1987, 73), the critique continues, Habermas construes the social evolutionary process of a “rationalisation of worldviews” too strongly and one-sidedly as a process of abstraction (Habermas: 1987, 88). This dissociation of factual validity and normative validity is seen as creating for the first time the conceptual gap which is then open to systemic forms of social interaction that engage neither with the semantic traditions of a society, nor with the communicative rationality of communicative action. Habermas responded to objections of this kind by further developing the elements of normativity theory underpinning The Theory of Communicative Action, which involved above all a loosening of the strong parallelisation of the categories of theory of mean-

The Semantic Contents of Religious Beliefs

177

ing on the one hand, and theory of action on the other. This modified definition of the relationship between meaning and norms is also articulated in a modified theoretical position toward religion. The strongly evolutionist emphasis prevailing in The Theory of Communicative Action, according to which religion was believed to be undergoing a process of substantial dissolution, gave way to a mildly sceptical, antagonistic stance toward religion's still unexhausted semantic potentials.

2. Sceptical Abstinence and Coexistence: Differentiating Between Unconditional Sense and the Sense of Unconditionality One of the strategies pursued by Habermas in response to the critique of earlier versions of the theory of communicative action comprises the loosening of the close link between the comprehension of meaning, normative knowledge and the coordination of action. Whereas in The Theory of Communicative Action the comprehension of an utterance was linked so closely to knowledge of the conditions of validity that from the standpoint of the speaker “the conditions of acceptability are identical to the conditions of his illocutionary success” (Habermas: 1984, 297f), later, in Between Facts and Norms for instance, a stronger distinction is drawn between semantic analysis of meaning, pragmatic analysis of normativity, and the theoretical analysis proper of the actions linked to the medium of language. It is acknowledged that the theory of communicative action “absorbs the tension between facticity and validity into its fundamental concepts” (Habermas: 1996a, 8). In contrast to earlier tendencies toward a dualistic separation of facts and norms, Habermas now uses a stage theory of general meaning and validity to elaborate the inherent relationship between the two. Whereas at the level of general meaning the distinction between given and merely assumed identity of meaning is evident to just a single observer, at the level of general validity the tension between “rational acceptability” and “validity” that emerges then allows a redefinition of the relationship between norms that are de facto socially accepted, and the ideal normativity of norms that merit acknowledgement (Habermas: 1998). The key idea in this changed conception of the theory of meaning is captured in the expression “transcendence from within” (Habermas: 1996, 17– 28). In his introductory remarks on the theory of meaning contained in Between Facts and Norms, Habermas applies the term to the generality of ideal normativity that is not explicable purely by semantics. “Transcendence from within” denotes the pragmatically reconstructed act of idealisation that logically transcends local contexts of meaning. Habermas now

178

Thomas M. Schmidt

uses this notion of immanent transcendence to redefine his understanding of religion. A sceptical, antagonistic position now supersedes the linear logic of social evolution that was present in The Theory of Communicative Action. Habermas utilises the two-stage idealisation, and the notion of transcendence from within that is linked to it, to distinguish religion and philosophy, which he does using the notions of “unconditional sense” and “sense of unconditionality”. In his commentary on M. Horkheimer’s dictum: “To seek to salvage an unconditional meaning without God is a futile undertaking” (Habermas: 2002a), Habermas distinguished between the philosophical sense of unconditionality, and the unconditional sense that religions generate. A theory of communicative rationality can uphold the philosophical sense of unconditional normativity, without having to assume a theoretically grounded unconditional sense of the kind generated by religions. The philosophical sense of unconditionality can be established through the act of idealisation termed “transcendence from within” (Habermas: 2002a), which must necessarily be performed in any communicative act. This use of the term “transcendence from within” in relation to the conception of post-metaphysical, communicative rationality is not a casual one that would be relevant only in the specific context of an enquiry into the theory of communicative action from the perspective of theology or the philosophy of religion. This term denotes the systematically central relationship between the facticity of local validity claims and their transcontextual generalised normativity. Only in the light of this distinction can the philosophical sense of unconditionality be distinguished categorically from the unconditional sense generated by religion. This distinction underlines the fact that post-metaphysical reason, which cannot take the place of faith, must remain abstinent. Philosophy cannot replace the solace that religion bestows. This does not mean that it must inevitably lapse into cynicism or indifferentism. Since procedural, postmetaphysical reason underlines the cognitive sense of moral judgements, it can indeed uphold the unconditional normative sense of the morally right. The normativity of these judgements is grounded in the reasoned insight of which all living being are capable who are also capable of communicating through language. Yet the unconditional binding force that would translate this moral insight into a compelling motivation to act, cannot be generated by post-conventional, cognitive morality itself. Post-metaphysical thinking can explicate the cognitive normative sense of morality, but cannot answer the question as to why we should be moral in the first place. Against this background, religious traditions retain a semantic potential capable of generating binding (and bonding) forces of this kind. Here, Habermas leaves open the question of whether religious tradition will in the long run be appropriated in toto through successful translation of those semantic poten-

The Semantic Contents of Religious Beliefs

179

tials, such that the coexistence of religion and post-metaphysical thought would be but a temporary phenomenon. Overall, this second phase of Habermassian discourse on religion at least is characterised by the maintenance of a position of abstinent coexistence. This abstinence arises in response to fact that the semantic potential of religion is seen to have been not yet fully secularised, and to persist. The resulting peaceful coexistence can even develop into a community of interests. Religion then seems a welcome ally in the struggle against a one-sided secularised modernity, as manifested for example in the one-sided dominance of the natural science paradigm of rationality, above all in its lofty metaphysical guise of the new naturalism. In a further, third step, clearly articulated certainly in the essays published since the Peace Prize speech Faith and Knowledge, Habermas now fully advocates a permanent coexistence of religious and secular convictions. From the perspective of post-metaphysical reason, religion is thereby granted more than just temporary hospitality – it is granted full civil rights within the context of the post-secular society. Habermas now increasingly advocates a fallibilist attitude on the part of post-metaphysical thinking: finite secular reason subjects itself to the express proviso that it might err. This renunciation by secular reason of its superiority claim is reflected above all by Habermas’ emphasis of the fact that fallibilism also applies to the secular citizen, who must now also accept the possibility that the religious conviction might also be true.

3. “Translation”: Cooperation of Religion and Secular Reason If the emergence of a modern society in which secular and religious convictions coexist on a permanent basis is to be considered a reasonable fact then reasonable principles of law and justice need to be formulated that are evident to religious and secular citizens alike. Public institutions and the key elements of a political constitution are legitimate if and when it can be assumed that reasonable persons would assent to them. This principle must be made to apply above all in cases where the justification of laws and coercive state sanctions is at stake, given that such decisions affect all citizens nolens volens. Hence they must be justified on grounds that can in principle be shared by all affected persons, in other words all citizens. Since they are highly controversial, religious beliefs would seem to be out of the question for this purpose. Consequently, according to ths view, it is recommended, in public debates where the legitimacy of laws and state actions is being disputed, citizens should confine themselves to the use of religious arguments for which independent, secular reasons can be given (Audi:

180

Thomas M. Schmidt

2000). The religious person in a pluralist society has a duty to justify her beliefs on certain political and legal issues such that they can be judged in the light and on the grounds of shared reason. The religious person too must therefore be willing to correct her own views and be open to rational critique. In short, she must acknowledge the general requirements of reason. The philosophy of religion faces the extraordinarily important task of demonstrating that this requirement of providing a reasonable account is itself well-grounded and appropriate, and that it can be met without violating the interests, integrity and self-understanding of religious persons. The criterion for religious beliefs of being justified as grounds for political decisions is their capacity to be translatable into secular reasons for the very same decisions. Religious beliefs cannot count as legitimate grounds for legal coercion unless they are translated into secular political reasons (cf. Schmidt: 1999, 43–56). But the insistence on “translation” does not mean that religious beliefs should not be expressed in the public sphere, that they should not be considered as legitimate grounds of personal decisions in political issues. The abstinence from religion is required only when it comes to the establishment and enforcement of coercive laws, but not when the making and valorizing of political choices is at stake. But for this relationship of mutual respect to become truly reciprocal under post-secular conditions, however, the secular person too must now accept the possibility that the religious conviction might also be reasonable. Hence secular citizens should also be willing to engage in a reasonable debate on religious truth claims and their secular appropriation by translation. But this kind of translation is still performed from the perspective of secular reason. Religion is the source language, secular reason the target language of the translation. A further constraint upon the translation is that, according to Habermas, secular reason “cannot appropriate as religious experience that to which religious discourse refers”. The “opaque core of religious experience” can in his view only be circled by a “philosophy that remains agnostic”, but cannot be penetrated using the analytical tools available to philosophy. Yet the question then arises of how the call for “cooperative translation” and “saving appropriation” can be harmonised with this view that the “opaque core of religious experience” remains “so abysmally alien to discursive thought as does the core of aesthetic experience, which can likewise only be circled but not penetrated by philosophical reflection” (Habermas: 2005, 150). In this context, the term “translation” evidently possesses various meanings and functions: translation as equivalence, as appropriation and as reconstruction. Where “translation” is used to mean the search for a functional equivalent for religious arguments in political debates, then the inner core of religious experience may indeed remain unaddressed. This because

The Semantic Contents of Religious Beliefs

181

the concrete normative judgement then forms the point of reference, the tertium comparationis, to which groundings in religious and secular language refer. Yet where religion is brought into play as the source of motivation and interpretation, as a semantic potential on which secular reason to some extent draws vicariously, enabling it to describe new problems and dilemmas in the first place, then translation does mean the “appropriation” of religious content. This is the case where religious experience is to be understood and appreciated not just functionally as a possible source of ethical sensitisation and the formation of competence for moral judgement, but where the semantic potentials of religious discourse are rather to be identified as secular reason's substantial sources of inspiration. In this substantially more demanding case, philosophical reason must not only circle the core of religious experience, but must also penetrate it. This is not to say that the formal distinction between philosophical argumentation and religious experience should be set aside. But the secular reason that appropriates religious tradition must possess an autonomous concept of religious experience, at least a formal structural concept of religious experience. It must be able to know which beliefs can be considered possible candidates for containing authentic religious experience, if it seeks to appropriate by translation the semantic forms of expression of such experience. Let us expound on this using the example of philosophical aesthetics brought forward by Habermas: An aesthetic theory is not identical to aesthetic experience, nor can it act as a substitute for that experience; but we can expect it to be able to distinguish conceptually between authentic and merely purported aesthetic experience, between art and kitsch. A philosophical theory of aesthetic experience must therefore already be dissatisfied with a mere circling. This is all the more so in the case of religious experience. Because religious beliefs raise cognitive claims that are tied to grounding reasons. Where the very notion of the post-secular society seeks to describe the context of a cooperative process in which religious and secular citizens should learn from each other, the substantial content of religious experiences cannot be seen as something entirely dissociated from reasons. Religious experience therefore cannot be understood as something entirely opaque, and alien to philosophical and analytical reconstruction. Philosophy cannot, of course, act as a performative substitute for religious experience, or copy it. But religion, unlike art, does contain eo ipso cognitive elements. Unlike aesthetic experience, religious experience also functions as the normative basis for beliefs. At least this relationship between beliefs and their grounding reasons, it appears, would have to be susceptible of philosophical analysis. The insufficient philosophical analysis of religion results in systematic problems for the concept of cooperative translation. The key claim of the

182

Thomas M. Schmidt

concept of the “post-secular society”, i.e. the “continued existence of religious communities within a society that continues to secularise”, for instance cannot be understood as a necessary state of affairs, but only as an empirically open one, and one that can only be verified empirically. The supposed complementary learning process between religious and secular citizens would then be a pure modus vivendi, a tolerant attitude toward religion that appears pragmatically expedient, as long as religion remains alive and claims a place in the political arena. This would not be an attitude of basic respect toward an element of that society acknowledged as being necessary and permanent. This empirical openness toward the raison d'être of religion is understood by some religious citizens as an implicit call to permanently demonstrate the unbroken vitality of their religion in a secular public. This forms one of the reasons for the sterile state of incessant agitation shown by such individuals as they display their permanent feelings of offence and affront as proof of the abiding public relevance of religion. The shortcoming of an underdetermined analysis of religion is finally made manifest in the discourse of the “semantic potential” of religion. This because the notion of religion as a semantic resource of secular reason can only ever relate to concrete, specifically determined religions, as the example of the image and likeness of God demonstrates. Paradoxically, the exclusive interlocutor of secular, “post-metaphysical” philosophy where “religious matters” are concerned would then be only theology (or theologies in the plural), but not a secular sociology of religion, religious studies or postmetaphysical philosophy of religion. The necessity of a substantial appropriation of the core of religious experience becomes especially evident when the term “translation” is understood in the third sense, as reconstruction. “Translation” then means the appropriation of the substantial content of religion in the sense of a reconstruction of the genealogy of secular reason, which is to say a genealogical reconstruction of that secular reason to whose standards of argumentative reason religious beliefs are now required to relate. For methodological reasons this semantic or analytical reconstruction of religion becomes a task of post-metaphysical philosophical reason, which seeks to retrieve through self-reflection its own genealogy and conditions of normativity. All three meanings of “translation” point to a certain definition of the relationship between faith and knowledge contained in the work of Habermas. His separation of faith and knowledge is the precondition for an understanding of religious experience as an impenetrable sphere of pre-discursive experience that is wholly dissociated from those kinds of reasons with which a secular reason can also engage.

The Semantic Contents of Religious Beliefs

183

4. “Faith and Knowledge”: Fallibilist Reason and Certain Belief Certain belief and a fallibilist attitude are not necessarily mutually exclusive. To demonstrate this, an appropriate epistemology of religious convictions is required (cf. Schmidt: 2001a, 248–261; 2001b, 105–120). A brief glance at the traditional conditions of religious belief shows that belief need not necessarily be understood as being in conflict with knowledge. Belief, and especially religious belief, possesses at least four dimensions, i.e. two cognitive and two non-cognitive dimensions. Traditionally, these dimensions were established by linking the distinction between fides quae and fides qua to the Augustinian distinction between credere Deum, credere Deo and credere in Deum. The two elementary non-cognitive dimensions are normally understood in terms of belief as faith, and belief as an ethically and existentially significant basic attitude, with the latter forming the overarching and legitimating framework for all major value judgements and life decisions. Religious belief is of a cognitive nature to the extent that it must also be understood as an epistemic attitude, as a holding of certain propositions to be true. The fourth dimension, also of a cognitive nature, comprises what has traditionally been termed fides quae, belief in the content of the propositions themselves, i.e. the tenets of the faith. These propositional tenets of religious beliefs, which are embedded in belief as faith, can now – like any other propositional content – be subjected to a fallibilist truth test. This enables us to distinguish two perspectives: the internal perspective of the faithful believer, and the external perspective of the critical discursive reflection upon the claims raised. This is not to say that these two attitudes exist in absolute mutual competition, and that each would need to claim primacy of explanation over the other. This distinction is better understood as a differentiation between two “explanatory levels” than as an absolute separation between the internal and external perspectives. This kind of “concession of a free movement between the levels of religion, and reflection on religion” avoids the two extremes of either immunising religious convictions against rational critique through recourse to authentic and incommunicable religious experience, or reducing religious convictions by placing them on a non-religious basis (Clayton: 1989). P. Clayton calls such persons “secular believers”. Secular believers are persons for whom religious and secular convictions coexist. The constant reflexive switch they make between the internal and external perspectives does not correspond to the classical view of a fides quaerens intellectum, which assumes a linear learning process that turns an initially weak faith into an intellectually sound belief bolstered by reason. The Clayton model rather involves the continuous re-establishment of a cognitive balance between scepticism and certainty, in order to continuously renew and restore

184

Thomas M. Schmidt

epistemic coherence between secular and religious convictions, under the external pressure of new information and critique. But this attitude is not only imposed on religious persons from outside, by the conventions of a secular majority culture. The switching between the internal and the external rather corresponds to an inherent logic of the system of religious conviction itself. We should therefore reject the view that religious belief always requires explicit and complete assent. It is true that, at the level of the individual, religious beliefs constitute the immediate justification for foundational beliefs. This immediacy, though, does not exonerate these beliefs from the requirements of inferential grounding and discursive justification. Psychologically, religious consciousness may remain at the level of such certainty; the believer may even be prima facie justified in this state of certainty, at least as long as no objections can be mobilized that override such a prima facie justification. The search for such a higher level justification is neither an abstract epistemological game nor the plea for a strong evidentialist model of epistemic justification. It is more of a practical necessity, when religious certainty becomes the final appeal for convictions that motivate action and have consequences for others in a post-secular society. In these processes of justification, the convictions do not necessarily become any less certain or immediate, though they are brought into a state of wide reflective equilibrium with other, secular convictions. Placing religious convictions in a coherent relationship with non-religious ones by establishing such a wide reflective equilibrium is a requirement that secular believers are themselves inclined to meet. Rational religious persons are already motivated to make their religious and non-religious convictions cohere in pre-political contexts.1 Therefore, this balancing of cognitive elements can also be required of them in contexts where religious convictions arise in the public discourse of a pluralist society qua normative claims. In recent years coherentist accounts of religious beliefs have been criticized by philosophers of religion who tend to emphasise a realist interpretation of religious experience. In addition to general epistemological considerations, in philosophy of religion there is the concern that without the support of a realistic metaphysics and theory of truth, religious belief would be left unprotected from the suspicion of being a mere projection. For religious faith it is central to accept that there is a God who is independent of human representations. It therefore appears to be central to an epistemology 1 “If fallibilism about one’s religious obligations [...] is appropriate to mature theists aware of the diversity and independence of the sources of the religious obligation, then we can begin to see why such believers should tend to endorse the standards for justifying coercion that […] are central to […] liberal democracy” (Audi: 2000, 123).

The Semantic Contents of Religious Beliefs

185

of religious convictions to defend the assumption of God’s objective reality. In general, the realist in philosophy of religion or theology fears that a theory of knowledge not linked with a realistic ontological understanding tends to undermine the distinction between real and apparent justification. Religious utterances, if they are rational, must be able to be understood as assertions about states of affairs and not just as appeals to or reports about inner states. According to this interpretation, the ability of a belief to serve as an explanation of facts is seen as a strong criterion of the rationality of that belief, and one which should also be taken appropriate account of in the case of religious belief. Understanding beliefs as hypotheses concerning what is the case in the world, and understanding their explanatory force as a criterion for their rationality, means giving conditions of meaning and verification for these beliefs that are generally verifiable. What counts as a possible reason for a religious belief can then be judged without having to share the belief itself. Construing religious beliefs as explanations means acknowledging that sceptics, agnostics and atheists must also be able to know what is the case if the religious belief is true. It is not sufficient to consider and classify beliefs as different subjective attitudes; rather we must be able to say how a world in which a religious belief were true would differ from a world in which it were untrue. Pragmatic or non-cognitive positions consider such views a misunderstanding of the specific character of religious experience. On this view, the character of religious beliefs is misunderstood, when its presumed explanatory power is raised to the criteria for its rational justification. These alternative views – the cognitivist and the non-cognitivist, or the intellectualist and the expressive – mark the key distinction in the current theoretical approaches to the rational justification of religious beliefs. Or to put it another way, the basic controversy in the philosophy of religion today revolves around the question of whether religious beliefs seek essentially to claim or explain something, or whether their function is rather to express or recommend a certain attitude. Critics of an “explanatory justification” of religious beliefs object that the rationality of religious beliefs is thus made subject to extraneous criteria which themselves possess only parochial validity. On this view, justifying religious beliefs by appealing to their explanatory force would mean subjecting the internal perspective of those religious beliefs to the standards of an extraneous scientific rationality. Seen in this light, the religious community and the scientific community would be two distinct and equal communities of belief that co-exist in a state of competition and dissensus, unable to appeal to any supraordinate agency that could settle the matter. If we understand religious beliefs as explanations, then they do not constitute arbitrary reflections upon the consciousness of individuals. Rather,

186

Thomas M. Schmidt

they claim intersubjective validity. Ultimately, this characteristic of intersubjective validity is linked to the motif of rational critique. The validity claims of religious beliefs must submit to measurement by argumentative standards that are also shared by those individuals who hold either different religious beliefs, or none at all. Religious explanations can then be described as intersubjectively valid if and when they are susceptible to rational critique, and any individual so disposed is able to verify the arguments for and against them. This call for intersubjective validity that would satisfy the demands of rational critique can also justifiably be raised in the face of the claim that religious experience provides the sole justification of religious beliefs. This because even though the characteristic feature of religious experiences may lie in their immediacy, they nevertheless contain in themselves an epistemic element that is linked to other, non-religious beliefs. Religious experiences presuppose concepts and beliefs that are not exclusively religious. Those theories which since Schleiermacher have emphasised the autarchy of religious experience usually pay too little attention to this. Religious experience might be immediate, but we need to distinguish the phenomenological from the epistemological sense of “immediate”. In religious experience, the employment of concepts may come “after the fact, consequent upon religious feeling” (James: 1902, 423), as W. James held. But insofar as religious experience serves as a ground for a particular belief, it claims to have the cognitive value and epistemological function of justifying the very belief in question. If the phenomenological and the epistemological senses of immediacy are distinguished carefully enough, we can avoid the two extremes when conceptualising religious experience:2 the immunisation of religious beliefs against rationalist critique by appeal to authentic and incommunicable experience on the one hand, and the complete reduction of religious beliefs to a non-religious explanatory basis on the other.3

2 “Schleiermacher’s insistence on the immediacy of religious experience is descriptively accurate, but it is theoretically inadequate […] The experience seems to the subject to be immediate and noninferential, but it is not independent of concepts, beliefs and practices. This confusion between the phenomenological and the theoretical sense of immediate is central to Schleiermacher’s program and is important for understanding contemporary religious thought and the study of religion.” (Proudfoot, 1985, 3). 3 Cf. Proudfoot’s distinction between “descriptive” and “explanatory reduction” (Proudfoot: 1985, 196–198).

The Semantic Contents of Religious Beliefs

187

5. Learning Processes in the Post-Secular Society Yet even if religious certainty can be reconciled with a fallibilist attitude, a tragic reading of the conflicts between secular and religious culture remains possible. Under post-metaphysical, fallibilist conditions there is no guarantee that the processes of mutual switching and translation, even if they are considered desirable by the actors concerned, will actually succeed. How, under post-secular conditions, after a strong view of secularisation as a linear and irreversible process has been abandoned, can a rational account of hope for progress be upheld? Here it would seem we reach the real border between faith and knowledge. The conviction that the modernisation process is directional cannot be grounded purely empirically or by formal reconstruction based on a strong theory of secularisation. Under postmetaphysical conditions, conditions of the radically finite nature of human reason, it is only possible to believe in the directedness of social development. This belief is not necessarily identical to religious faith. However, the utopian ideal according to which social progress consists not only in the proliferation of consumer goods and an increase in the domination of nature, but also in a real increase in opportunities for a life led in authentic freedom and solidarity, does not arise from the formal reconstruction of problem-solving competences alone. This does not rule out the possibility that this certain belief can be tested, like a hypothesis, i.e. brought into a reflexive and coherent relationship with fallible knowledge. The volitional component of this belief grounds the binding force of the ideal, while the fallible knowledge component grounds the rationality of the hope. Helpful here is the model of the interdependence of the attitudes of belief and knowledge, as I just outlined in relation to the case of religious belief. The distinction I drew between belief as faith in, and belief in the truth of, propositions, also holds as we consider whether we may expect the processes of mutual learning and translation between religion and secular modernity to succeed. The appropriateness of a division of labour and cooperation of this kind between certain belief and fallible knowledge should be evident to a finite reason that might otherwise not be able to view its own discourses reflexively as a learning process, and for that reason should be demanded of it. If this were not evident, then it would also no longer be possible to demonstrate why religious and secular citizens should accept the possibility that their convictions might be false, or why that possibility should also be seen even as a possible gain, and not exclusively as a threat or loss. Beyond this rational hope, however, there are no guarantees available to both religious and secular citizens alike that these mutual learning processes will be successful. As finite reasonable beings, secular and religious citizens alike face the same foundational predicament

188

Thomas M. Schmidt

of having to place their faith, in the absence of any guarantee provided by a metaphysics of history, in the belief – or hope – that the required mutual translation (between their basic intuitions on the one hand and the rational testing methods of the analytical theory-building and political will-building processes on the other) will in future succeed. Secular and religious citizens alike must defend their convictions without recourse to epistemological protection or metaphysical guarantees. This is the precarious balance of the post-secular society, which can only be maintained through fairness and mutual respect between religious and non-religious citizens.

References AUDI, R. (2000), Religious Commitment and Secular Reason, Cambridge. CEPPA, L. (1998), Disincantamento e Trascendenza in Jürgen Habermas, Paradigmi. Rivista di Critica Filosofica 16, 515–534. CLAYTON, P. (1989), Explanation from Physics to Theology: Essay in Rationality and Religion, Yale. HABERMAS, J. (1984), The Theory of Communicative Action, vol. 1, Reason and the Rationalization of Society, London. HABERMAS, J. (1987), The Theory of Communicative Action, vol. 2, Lifeworld and System: A Critique of Functionalist Reason, Boston. HABERMAS, J. (1996), Between Facts and Norms. Contributions to a Discourse Theory of Law and Democracy, Cambridge, 17–28. HABERMAS, J. (1998), The Inclusion of the Other, Cambridge, MA. HABERMAS, J. (2002a), Religion and Rationality: Essays on Reason, God, and Modernity, Cambridge, MA. HABERMAS, J. (2002b), Faith and Knowledge, in: idem, The Future of Human Nature, Cambridge, 101–115. HABERMAS, J. (2005), Religion in der Öffentlichkeit. Kognitive Voraussetzungen für den ‘öffentlichen Vernunftgebrauch’ religiöser und säkularer Bürger, in: idem, Zwischen Naturalismus und Religion. Philosophische Aufsätze, Frankfurt/Main, 150. JAMES, W. (1902), The Varieties of Religious Experience, New York. KÜHNLEIN, M. (1996), Aufhebung des Religiösen durch Versprachlichung. Eine religionsphilosophische Untersuchung des Rationalitätskonzepts von Jürgen Habermas, Theologie und Philosophie 71, 390–409. MARSH, J.L. (1993), The Religious Significance of Habermas, Faith and Philosophy 10, 521–538. PROUDFOOT, W. (1985), Religious Experience, Berkeley. SCHMIDT, T.M. (2001a), Das epistemische Subjekt, in: G. Krieger/H.-L. Ollig (ed.), Fluchtpunkt Subjekt: Facetten und Chancen des Subjektgedankens, Paderborn, 105–120. SCHMIDT, T.M. (2001b), Glaubensüberzeugungen und säkulare Gründe. Zur Legitimität religiöser Argumente in einer pluralistischen Gesellschaft, ZEE 45, 248–261. SCHMIDT, T.M. (1999), Religious Pluralism and Democratic Society. Political Liberalism and the Reasonableness of Religious Beliefs, Philosophy & Social Criticism 25, 43–56. TRAUTSCH, A. (2004), Glauben und Wissen. Jürgen Habermas zum Verhältnis von Philosophie und Religion, Philosophisches Jahrbuch 111, 180–198.

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion JACO S. DREYER University of South Africa, Pretoria

1. Introduction The history of the study of religion in Africa is an unhappy one. The Ugandan scholar Okot p’Bitek gives the following telling description of the “study” of religions, in particular African religions: We hear echoes of the same battle cry from the 15th century onwards, when hordes upon hordes of barbarians from Europe disguised as Christians leapt from ships, bible and gun in hand, to attack, plunder, murder and enslave the inhabitants of the whole world. The writers of that long period of Western domination set out to justify the colonial system by preaching that the world [...] needed Western suppression (rechristened civilization) in order to survive. The speculations of the eighteenth century philosophers and those of the nineteenth century anthropologists were not meant to give a true picture of African religions. These people were not interested in a proper study of African societies, because if they were, they would have come to Africa to carry out researches. Their works were ‘apologies’ for the colonial system; their task was to demonstrate the superiority of Western cultures over those of the colonized peoples. (Ludwig/Adogame: 2004, 2)

One can question p’Bitek’s view that a “true picture” of African religions is possible, but the above quotation states forcefully how “people from Africa” often felt their religions being misrepresented in Western (colonial) scholarship. Even more than that, the results of these very negative (mis)representations of “African religions” were often used for political means in order to subjugate and control the Africans (cf. Chidester: 1996). This negative history of the study of religion in Africa is also confirmed in research by Krüger (1995). He gives a vivid portrayal of the aboriginal hunter-gatherers of South Africa, the Bushman or San people, as they were perceived in “the eyes of Western beholders”, and tells how these people and their “religion” were despised by the settlers.1 1 Krüger writes about the trauma of colonisation and says that the real tragedy is that until the middle of the 20th century “the European settlement in South Africa never succeeded in breaking out of that mould, to meet the hunter-gatherers on any footing other than that of superior versus inferior. This underlying ideology, no less tragic because it was perhaps inevitable, triggered a series of actions and behavioural patterns that in certain places and periods led to virtual genocide” (Krüger: 1995, 235).

190

Jaco S. Dreyer

Our concern in this article is not so much the history of the study of African religions and the portrayal of Africans and their “religions” in (Western) scholarship,2 but the methodological challenges that the study of religion brings to the fore. The above are perhaps extreme examples of a common question in all human sciences research, namely how a researcher can adequately represent “the other” in and through research. How is it possible to do research without making my own worldview, culture, or history the lens through which “the other” is researched?3 To focus even more clearly on the field of religion: How can we do research in religion without our prejudices, whether for specific religions or religious traditions, or perhaps even against specific religions, distorting the outcome of our research efforts? The issue of the researcher’s subjectivity is a well-known methodological problem in human science research. This methodological problem, with its many faces, are mostly described in oppositional terms, such as the insider-outsider problem, the emic-etic approach, subjectivity or objectivity, understanding or explanation (cf. McCutcheon: 1999). Although this cluster of methodological problems is characteristic of all human science research, it seems to be even more prominent in the study of religion4 due to doubt about the subject matter,5 the distrust of any scientific study of religion, the fragmentation of religion in modern societies and difficulties to clarify the relationship between religion and the sacred (Hervieu-Léger: 2000, 7–61). If we accept for the moment the view that “religion” refers to “a social and cultural construct with highly variable meaning” (Beckford: 2003, 5), and we agree with Hervieu-Léger that the term “religious” refers to “the form of believing whose distinguishing mark is to appeal to the legitimizing authority of a tradition” (Hervieu-Léger: 2000, 83), we can understand the difficulty of an “objective” study of religion. There is no “religion out there” to be studied. Religion, as highly symbolic human action, embedded in specific cultures, histories and languages, and often part of complex traditions, 2 It is interesting to note Van Rinsum’s conclusion in his analysis of Okot p’Bitek’s views: “Paradoxically enough, Okot p’Bitek articulated his criticism of Western-dominated thinking about religion on the basis of the same Western theological discourse used in the West to declare the death of its metaphysical God” (Van Rinsum: 2004, 36). 3 The question that Dubuisson asks at the beginning of his book about the Western construction of religion captures this problem well: “[...] is Western anthropology, religious anthropology in particular, in its quest for the Other and for our very humanity, capable of discovering anything but itself – that is, anything other than its own categories and its own ways of conceiving the world?” (Dubuisson: 2003, 6). 4 Hervieu-Léger asks: “How come that the critical detachment characteristic of a scientific attitude in the social sciences is thought to be more difficult, if not impossible, to attain when the subject matter is religion?” (Hervieu-Léger: 2000, 13). 5 The problem of the definition of religion is clear from the many books devoted to this topic. The book The pragmatics of defining religion: Contexts, concepts and contests gives a good overview in this regard (Platvoet/Molendijk: 1999).

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion

191

can only be researched indirectly. Researchers in the field of religion therefore have to be very knowledgeable about the histories, cultures, languages, symbols, and worldviews of those who participate in their research in order to be able to construct, negotiate and contest the meaning attached to these human actions (Beckford: 2003, 7).6 The above difficulties of studying religion bring the emic-etic, insideroutsider, subjective-objective dualisms much sharper in focus. It is therefore to be expected that these enduring dualisms will be in the foreground of methodological discussions in the field of religion. A good example of such a methodological discussion is found in a recent publication How to do comparative religion? Three ways, many goals (Gothóni: 2005a). The contributions of Wiebe and Gothóni are good examples of the enduring dualism of “understanding” and “explanation” in research in the field of religion. Wiebe takes the scientific “explanation” position and argues that “thick descriptions” and interpretive approaches to the study of religion are characterised by a “gnostic epistemology” that undermines the scientific status of religious studies (2005, 65). He writes: Although a hermeneuticized ‘understanding’ does not necessarily eschew the ordinary, it is amorphous and oracular in nature and has little to do with the broader scientific aim of providing sets of intersubjectively testable claims (statements) about religious experience, belief, practice, or behavior and simply rejects as inappropriate the scientific objective of providing an explanation of religious phenomena that are open to empirical testing. (Wiebe 2005: 65)

In his response to Wiebe, entitled Understanding the other, Gothóni sets out two distinct ways of knowing the world, namely in terms of quantity and quality (Gothóni: 2005b). Following the hermeneutical ideas of H.-G. Gadamer, he forcefully pleads for an “understanding” approach to the study of religion. As an example of such an “understanding” approach he describes the importance of field research to establish “what it means to go on a pilgrimage” rather than to count the number of pilgrims or to record their dress, fitness, style of walking and so forth. This understanding of what it means to be on a pilgrimage can only be gained by coming closer, by interacting with the pilgrims, by experiencing the tradition of pilgrimage, by abandoning “the pre-programmed and detached standpoint of our inherited or methodically adopted horizon – to break our I-centeredness, as it were – to become involved with and to surrender to the religious frame of refer6 Chidester speculates on possible reasons for the initial denial of religion in Africa by European travellers, settlers and missionaries, and mentions “the briefness of contact, the limited opportunities for observation, the unfamiliarity of strange customs, or the incomprehensibility of local languages” (1996, 13–14). These possible reasons all refer to the aspect of participation that we develop later in this paper.

192

Jaco S. Dreyer

ence concerned [...]” (Gothóni: 2005b, 120). In short, he argues, the aim is not to explain but to understand. “This is what humanities is all about, it is about understanding words” (Gothóni: 2005b, 122). Wiebe, in a response to his critics, accuses Gothóni of a rejection of science. He writes, rather condescendingly: “And Gothóni’s Gadamerianism – if I may call it that – makes ‘understanding’ a kind of gnostic enterprise suitable only for the student of religion as (religious) virtuoso (or public intellectual) rather than as scholar-scientist” (Wiebe: 2005, 139). Although we cannot give the sophisticated arguments and counter arguments in detail, it is clear that Wiebe and Gothóni are divided in the traditional methodological camps of either “understanding” or “explanation”, either insider or outsider, either subjectivity or objectivity. Related to this is the fairly widespread idea that the “explanation” approach, with its emphasis on decontextualised and abstract concepts, is in some way more scientific than the “understanding” approach with its emphasis on contextual descriptions. Against this background I would like to contribute to this ongoing methodological debate in the study of religion by discussing the role of participation and distanciation in the study of religion, and more specifically in empirical research in the field of religion. The point of departure of this article is that the common methodological opposition between the researcher as either insider (or participant) or outsider (detached observer) is mistaken, and that every researcher has to keep a creative tension between participation and distanciation in all research endeavours. My inspiration for this task comes from Ricoeur’s hermeneutical theory, and I shall firstly explore his views on interpretation in relation to the methodology of the human and social sciences (section 2). This is followed by a discussion of the methodological significance of participation and distanciation (section 3). In section 4 I shall seek to illustrate the significance of the moments of participation and distanciation in research in the field of religion with reference to concrete examples from a research project. The article ends with a short conclusion (section 5).

2. Mediated Knowledge: A Hermeneutical Perspective7 How can we bridge the methodological divide described above that still exists in the field of research in religion? How can we move beyond the cluster of dualisms attached to the understanding versus explanation divide, such as the oppositions between insider and outsider, researcher and the 7 This section is based on an earlier article (Dreyer: 1998).

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion

193

researched, observer and the observed, subjectivity and objectivity, participation and distanciation? I take as point of departure in this article that the critical hermeneutical theory of Paul Ricoeur can help us to overcome these methodological dualisms. Paul Ricoeur’s hermeneutical theory emphasizes that there is no direct route to meaning. “[H]ermeneutics proves to be a philosophy of detours [...]”, writes Ricoeur (1992, 17). This is true with regard to the question of selfhood, as Ricoeur has beautifully described it in Oneself as another (Ricoeur: 1992). One of the features of the hermeneutics of the self, according to Ricoeur, is “the detour of reflection by way of analysis” (1992, 16). This is also true with regard to the scientific field. Absolute knowledge is impossible, and therefore a “conflict of interpretations is insurmountable and inescapable” (Ricoeur: 1981, 193; cf. Ricoeur: 1974). How to deal with this conflict of interpretations was a central motif in Ricoeur’s hermeneutic endeavours over many decades. What are the implications of this hermeneutical point of departure for science? In his essay Science and ideology, Ricoeur discusses the problematic distinction between science and ideology (1991, 246–269). He argues that a sharp and clear-cut distinction between the social sciences and ideology can only be upheld if these sciences are viewed in a positivist way (Ricoeur: 1991, 256). When the positivist criteria for social theory are abandoned (which he argues must be the case because they are untenable), the possibility of an epistemological break between science and ideology is lost: We cannot play and win on two tables at once; we cannot abandon the positivist model of science to give an acceptable meaning to the idea of social theory, and at the same time take advantage of this model in order to institute an epistemological break between science and ideology. (Ricoeur: 1991, 258)

Ricoeur further argues that a clear break between science and ideology presupposes a subject capable of total knowledge of ideological differences, a freischwebende Intelligenz capable of evaluating ideologies from a nonevaluative and non-subjective stance. With reference to Gadamer’s work, he says that this creates a dilemma that is impossible to overcome, owing to the ontological condition of preunderstanding, “the very structure of a being that is never in the sovereign position of a subject capable of distancing itself from the totality of its conditionings” (Ricoeur: 1991, 266). Should we therefore renounce the opposition between science and ideology? In a fashion characteristic of his methodological style, Ricoeur rejects this possibility. Instead Ricoeur presents us with four hermeneutical propositions (Ricoeur: 1991, 267–269; cf. Bien: 1995, 304).

194

Jaco S. Dreyer

1. All objectifying knowledge about ourselves in relation to society, social class, cultural tradition and history is preceded “by a relation of belonging upon which we can never entirely reflect” (Ricoeur: 1991, 267). 2. Although objectifying knowledge is always preceded by a relation of belonging, it is not totally dependent on this relation of belonging. It renders absolute knowledge impossible, but relative autonomy of objectifying knowledge is still possible due to the factor of distanciation.8 This distanciation that allows for a partial critique (Bien: 1995, 304) of ideology also implies a self-distancing, “a distanciation of the self from itself” (Ricoeur: 1991, 268). The essence of this proposition is summarised by Ricoeur in the following statement: “distanciation, dialectically opposed to belonging, is the condition of possibility of the critique of ideology, not outside or against hermeneutics, but within hermeneutics” (1991, 268). 3. Owing to distanciation, a critique of ideology can partially free itself from the relation of belonging and can be organised in knowledge. However, this knowledge will always remain incomplete, supported by an interest, as Habermas has argued (1971): “It is condemned to remain partial, fragmentary, insular knowledge; its incompleteness is hermeneutically founded in the original and unsurpassable condition that makes distanciation itself a moment of belonging” (Ricoeur: 1991, 268). 4. A critique of ideology is necessary, but this task can never be completed: “Knowledge is always in the process of tearing itself away from ideology, but ideology always remains the grid, the code of interpretation” (Ricoeur: 1991, 269). 8 On the basis of Ricoeur's analysis of the hermeneutical function of distanciation (Ricoeur: 1981, 131–144), in which he takes the notion of the text as the paradigm of distanciation, one can conclude that distanciation is an inherent part of communication. We can only communicate “in and through distance”, writes Ricoeur (1981, 131). But whereas Gadamer had a totally negative view of distanciation, Ricoeur is much more positive and argues that distanciation is not something to be overcome in interpretation, but actually the condition of understanding ( Ricoeur: 1981, 144; 1991, 298). A text, as codified discourse, is for Ricoeur the paradigm of distanciation, owing to the threefold autonomy that is gained by the text as against discourse. Due to this autonomy of the text, it transcends its original context and is thus not just an extension of a dialogue. A text is decontextualised from the original discourse, and it therefore has the potential to be recontextualised by a reader (Ricoeur: 1991, 298). The distance created by the autonomy of the text, which is also a “temporal distance” thus makes interpretation possible (Ricoeur: 1991, 298). This is, however, not the end of the story! Ricoeur says, again with reference to Gadamer, that the text has a critical power, a power to be a “critique of the real”, and thus to open new worlds for the reader (Ricoeur: 1991, 300). This unfolding of a new world for the reader thus “implies a moment of distanciation in the relation of self to itself” and a “critique of the illusions of the subject” (Ricoeur: 1981, 144; 1991, 301). In this way “distanciation from oneself is not a fault to be combated but rather the condition of possibility of understanding oneself in front of the text”, writes Ricoeur (1991, 301). Distanciation is thus not an “alienating distanciation”, but a necessary detour towards the appropriation of the new worlds opened by the text (Ricoeur: 1981, 144; 1991, 301).

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion

195

The above hermeneutical propositions help us to avoid “the pitfall of an opposition” between understanding and explanation, between a methodology for the human sciences and a separate methodology for the natural sciences (Ricoeur: 1981, 36). No interpretation is possible without both participation and distanciation. In the words of Ricoeur (1981, 36), there is a “continual to and fro between the investigator’s personal engagement […] and the disengagement which the objective explanation by causes, laws, functions or structures demands.” The dialectic of “understanding” and “explanation”,9 or “participation” and “distanciation,”10 is thus a key insight of Ricoeur’s hermeneutical theory in response to the enduring dualisms referred to above.11

3. The Dialectic of Participation and Distanciation in Research in Religion12 In this section we explore the possible methodological implications of Ricoeur’s ideas on the dialectic of “participation” and “distanciation”. We firstly explore the possible meaning of “participation” (3.1) and “distanciation” (3.2) in a methodological context. This is followed by an exploration of the dialectical relation between participation and distanciation (3.3). 3.1 The Role of Participation in Research What could participation and distanciation possibly mean in empirical research in general and in religion in particular? Let us start with participation. Participation, in the hermeneutical sense that Ricoeur uses it, refers to much more than the “interaction” between the researcher and the researched in a research context. In its broadest sense, it refers to the ontological implication of being born at a specific time and in a specific place, in a specific 9 Ricoeur writes in an article on explanation and understanding that he questions “the methodological dualism of explanation and understanding” and that he wants to “substitute a subtle dialectic for this clear-cut alternative.” He continues: “By dialectic, I mean the consideration that, rather than constituting mutually exclusive poles, explanation and understanding would be considered as relative moments in a complex process that could be termed interpretation” (1991, 126). 10 Ricoeur writes: “For the pair ‘distanciation and participatory belonging’ is the equivalent, in a language influenced by Gadamer, of the pair ‘explanation and understanding’, inherited from Dilthey’s epistemology” (1981, 36). 11 Joy summarises Ricoeur’s position as follows: “For Ricoeur, neither understanding nor explanation can operate independently, but need to be engaged in a mutually productive mode of interaction in the process of hermeneutics. Ricocoeur (sic) thus reconciles two terms that have been regarded as mutually exclusive” (2004, 203). 12 This section is based on a paper delivered at the International Society of Empirical Research (ISERT) in Bangor, Wales on 21 April 2006 (Dreyer: 2006). The focus in that paper was on the dualism between qualitative and quantitative research.

196

Jaco S. Dreyer

culture with specific traditions. It refers to our “situatedness”, our being part of a lifeworld. Drawing on the phenomenological tradition, and particularly Gadamer’s work, one can say that participation refers to the fact that we all belong to historical traditions that forms our horizons of understanding (Ricoeur: 1981, 110). We cannot escape from this “belonging” to a tradition, and this shapes the prejudices with which we meet and interpret our world.13 A researcher is thus not someone doing research as a person from nowhere. Every researcher has his or her own “history” and prejudices. More concretely, we can say that every researcher comes to the research practice with a personal (including a bodily, gendered identity), social, political, cultural and economic “history” that forms his or her “horizon of understanding”. Participation in research, however, means more than this. The researched (the research participants) also inescapably belong to historical traditions, to “lifeworlds” with their own personal, social, political, cultural and economic histories. Participation in research therefore refers to “meeting the other” with their prejudices in the research (cf. Gadamer: 1993; 1975). It means that we, as researchers, enter the lifeworld(s) of the researched (cf. Habermas: 1984, 108). It is further important to point out that this immersion in the lifeworlds of the research participants does not only refer to interaction with the researched in concrete research situations. Researchers can also enter the lifeworlds of the researched through their imagination, by putting themselves in the place of the researched (cf. Bourdieu: 1999, 613). Participation thus conceived puts an enormous burden on a researcher’s shoulders. It means that we, as researchers, have to seek “to honour the integrity of the phenomena we study by trying to meet religious people on their own ground and on their own terms, and by not forcing phenomena into the moulds of our own conceptual schemes” (Krüger: 1995, 89). More concretely, it implies that we have to familiarise ourselves with the social, cultural, economic and political contexts of those who participate in our research projects.14 Even when the researcher and the researched share the same cultural and religious milieu, this is a difficult task (cf. Krüger: 1995, 89). In a multicultural, multireligious context it is an even bigger challenge. Participation means that we have to immerse ourselves in the worlds of the researched by interacting with them, by learning as much as we can about them, their histories and their religious heritages and tradi13 Pyysiäinen writes: “To the extent that the scholar is guided by the specific tradition(s) with which he or she is most familiar, those traditions exercise a prototype effect on the way the scholar recognizes something as an instance of religion” (2001, 1). 14 Cox writes: “[...] it now seems clear that scholars of religion cannot avoid the conclusions put forward by Fitzgerald that religions must be studied as social and cultural expressions within specific historical, geographical, political and economic contexts” (2004, 263).

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion

197

tions, and by being sensitive towards their life experiences (cf. Fay: 1996, 28). Those who participate in our research projects should not be regarded as mere objects of information, but as subjects of communication (Kunneman: 1996, 132). 3.2 The Role of Distanciation in Research What could distanciation possibly mean in a research context? Just as participation should not be narrowly conceived as social interaction, we should also not limit the meaning of distanciation to a lack of involvement or a lack of interaction with the research participants in the research situation. Distanciation, from a hermeneutical perspective, refers in the first instance to an attitude or a disposition. “Distance is a fact; placing at a distance is a methodological attitude”, writes Ricoeur in his discussion on hermeneutics and the critique of ideology (1991, 281). What does “placing at a distance” mean in this context? It means, among other things, that the researcher cannot take the interpretations of the researched at face value, but has to take a critical (objectifying) stance.15 A researcher cannot be content with the descriptions and interpretations, the common sense and lay language of the researched.16 Sayer says science is redundant if it fails to go beyond a common-sense understanding of the world (1992, 39). Bourdieu also points out that research subjects’ discourse takes much for granted, often remains on the level of the general and reflects a “semi-theoretical disposition” due to their desire to impress (cf. Jenkins: 1992, 53). Immediate knowledge is thus an illusion (Bourdieu/Chamboredon/Passeron: 1991, 13). Distanciation, in a methodological perspective, means that we have to adopt a critical, reflexive stance,17 also when we study religion.18 In terms of the research process, it means, for example, that researchers have to be critical towards their methodological choices (for example the choice of a research topic or the sampling choices), the research methods they have used and the interpretations they have made (cf. Jenkins: 1992, 52). Distanciation also 15 In terms of the model of the text, it refers to the unavoidable detour of decontextualisation of a text in order to be recontextualised by the reader. 16 When we interpret, when we describe in language, when we tell a story, we are already engaged in the first steps in the process of distanciation. When the researcher interprets the research participant's response to his or her question, he or she is engaged in the act of distanciation. We can thus say that all acts of signifying meaning and interpreting meaning imply distanciation. 17 According to Habermas, this means that a researcher has to leave his or her natural, performative attitude, and adopt a theoretical attitude, an attitude that is primarily characterised by reflexivity (1984, 122–123; 126). Bourdieu speaks of the necessity of “objectification” and “objectification of objectification” (cf. Jenkins: 1992, 52). 18 We do not discuss the science-versus-religion or faith-versus-reason debate here. It is, however, important to note the relation of conflict between science and religion in the Western world since the birth of modern sciences in the 17th century (cf. Hervieu-Léger: 2000, 13–17).

198

Jaco S. Dreyer

implies that researchers have to reflect critically on the metatheoretical and theoretical frameworks that implicitly or explicitly feature in their research. Distanciation is thus first and foremost an attitude of a researcher.19 There are, however, also techniques of distanciation or objectification such as the logical critique of ideas and statistical testing of spurious selfevidences that can be useful in order to move beyond the illusion of transparency (cf. Bourdieu/Chamboredon/Passeron: 1991, 15). Broadly speaking one can say that distanciation also includes all strategies of objectification such as critical thinking, theorising, conceptualisation, abstraction,20 comparing and contrasting. If we analyse and interpret meaning, for example by classification, comparison, and counting, we are engaging in acts of distanciation. Even the “recording” of the research “data” is an act of distanciation. The role of quantification21 and statistics as strategies of distanciation are well-known, but there are also other important strategies of distanciation that a researcher can use. Conceptualisation and the use of theory are important strategies of distanciation in any research project. Goetz and LeCompte discuss, for example, four theorising activities that can be used in qualitative research (1984, 167–174): perception (the establishment of codes and categories); comparing, aggregating and ordering; establishing and testing of connections; and speculation. All these theorising activities can be seen as strategies of decontextualisation that facilitate distanciation.22 3.3 The Dialectic of Participation and Distanciation Why do we need both participation and distanciation in doing research? In this context it is helpful to recall that Ricoeur relates the dialectical tension between participation and distanciation to the tension between science and ideology. Because there is no clear epistemological break between science and ideology, the search for truth is a task that can never be completed. The search for truth is always a fallible process: “Knowledge is always in the process of tearing itself away from ideology, but ideology always remains the grid, the code of interpretation”, as we discussed in section 2 (Ricoeur: 1991, 269). My interpretation is that the dialectical tension between partici19 This does not mean that only researchers engage in distanciation in a research situation. For example, when a research participant reflects on a question that we posed, he or she engages in the act of distanciation. Research participants also bring their theories and practical knowledge to the research situation, and they also reflect critically on themselves, the researcher, and the research process. 20 See van der Ven’s contribution in this volume, 77–113, for a discussion of the importance of abstraction in reflective, comparative religious research. 21 It is interesting to note that Porter refers to quantification as “a technology of distance” (1995, IX). 22 The grounded theory approach in qualitative research can be described as a process of distanciation.

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion

199

pation and distanciation is necessary in order to ensure that knowledge stays within the realm of science and does not become ideological. To put it somewhat simplistically: participation needs the correction of distanciation, and distanciation needs the correction of participation. Here I would like to add another aspect from Ricoeur’s theory, namely the tension between ideology and utopia. I would like to interpret the dialectical relation between participation and distanciation from the dialectical relation between ideology and utopia (cf. Dreyer: 2004). To the extent that the tension collapses and participation takes precedence over distanciation, the knowledge produced runs the risk of being ideological, that is, it tends to conform to the status quo and continue the illusions of immediate knowledge. On the other hand: to the extent that distanciation takes precedence over participation, the knowledge produced runs the risk of being utopian, that is, it tends towards escapism and loses its connection with the lifeworld of the research participants.23 How can we maintain the dialectical relation between participation and distanciation? This question has been addressed elsewhere (Dreyer: 2006). Here I just briefly recap that the key notion is “reflexivity” in the three-fold sense that Bourdieu uses the term: by reflecting on our own prejudices, by being part of scientific communities that help us to reflect on our prejudices, and lastly by reflecting on our scientific practices themselves (1990; 2004). All of this forms part of learning the craft of research and of developing a scientific habitus (cf. Bourdieu: 2004, 37–44).24

4. Participation and Distanciation in a Research Practice: Examples from the Human Rights and Religion (HRR) Project A problem with methodological debates such as this is that it is often so far removed from the actual doing of research, from our research practices, that one can question the contribution of the debate to the actual conduct of research. In order to avoid this danger, I apply the ideas about participation and distanciation to an actual research project. The examples are from a ten year longitudinal research project on Human Rights and Religion (HRR) of the Department of Practical Theology of Unisa in Pretoria, South Africa, in 23 The tension between contextualisation and decontextualisation, between the concrete and the abstract, and the particular and the general, is taken up in the tension between participation and distanciation. 24 Bourdieu stresses the point that scientific research is “a very complex practice (made up of problems, formulae, instruments, etc.) which can only really be mastered through a long apprenticeship” (2004, 5).

200

Jaco S. Dreyer

co-operation with the Department of Empirical Theology of the Radboud University in Nijmegen, the Netherlands (van der Ven/Dreyer/Pieterse: 2004). The idea is not to give an overview of this extensive research project, nor to discuss the outcomes of this project, but to provide some examples of the relative moments25 of participation and distanciation in a concrete research project. In order to do so, I decided to concentrate on the following aspects: the choice of the research topic, the motivation and the aim of the research (4.1), the selection of the population and the research participants (sampling) (4.2), the questionnaire construction (4.3) and the data analysis (4.4). I end this section with some reflections on the dialectical tension between participation and distanciation (4.5). 4.1 Research Topic, Motivation and Aim of the Research Against the background of the socio-political changes that occurred in South Africa during the early 1990s, the Department of Practical Theology at Unisa, in co-operation with the University of Nijmegen (now Radboud University) in the Netherlands, embarked in 1993 on a longitudinal survey research project to determine first and foremost, what role religion has to play in the transition period in the country. In South Africa, where the majority of the population indicated in the 1991 census that they were Christians (Population Census: 1991), it is often expected of Christianity (and the different Christian denominations and congregations) to contribute positively towards tolerance, the cessation of violence and a situation of reconciliation. Although religion has the potential to contribute to live together peacefully, we were also aware that this is often not the case. Religion can be, and often is, a source of great conflict, intolerance, ethnocentrism, particularism, favouritism, and even human rights violations. We were all too much aware of the role of some leading Christians and Christian denominations in the legitimation of the apartheid system. The research question which directed our research efforts from the start was thus formulated as follows: Under the condition of which background variables, do religious attitudes of the youth of South Africa influence their attitudes towards human rights in this period of transition towards a non-racial, non-sexist, democratic country based on the declaration of human rights. The choice of the research topic, the motivation for the research and the research aim all demonstrate the role of participation in this research project. The research was not just done from an “observer” perspective with no interest for or Einfühlung26 with the situation in South Africa. It was done 25 See footnote 9. 26 Whaling describes Einfühlung as it is used in the phenomenological tradition as “empathising with the other positively by ‘walking in his or her moccassins for a couple of miles’” (1995, 19).

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion

201

with the specific intention of trying to understand what was happening in South Africa in this dramatic period of transformation. The choice of the research programme was thus influenced by the knowledge of the importance of a specific historical situation, and the specific aim of the research was to contribute to this process of democratic change in the new South Africa. The “situatedness” of the researchers and their commitments are clearly expressed in the introduction to the book Is there a God of human rights? The complex relationship between human rights and religion: A South African case that concluded the project: Naturally two of the three authors of this book, J.S. Dreyer and H.J.C. Pieterse, are directly concerned about how South African students regard human rights and religion and what the relationship is between them: they are South Africans born and bred, they live and work there; their lives are bound up with South Africa’s lot, and they are concerned about South Africa’s destiny and that of its children and grandchildren. But the third – in fact the primary – author, J.A. van der Ven, is no less concerned, albeit indirectly. As a distant descendant of the mid-17th Century Dutch, who – after the arrival of Jan van Riebeeck and his burghers at the Cape in 1652 – permitted the Dutch East India Company, a multi-national before the event, to go its colonising way, he is bound up with one of the country’s languages and cultures and shares their historical responsibility. (van der Ven/Dreyer/Pieterse: 2004, XVI)

However, it was not only the socio-political transformation that was of interest to the researchers. We were also intensely interested in the role of “religion”, and more particularly the Christian religion, in this time of rapid transformation in South Africa. The key question was: Is religion playing a positive, negative or perhaps no role with regard to the transition towards a non-racial, non-sexist, democratic South Africa based on the declaration of human rights? As we noted above, the reason for the choice of the Christian religion was also not arbitrarily. Not only do the census statistics point to Christianity as the majority religion in South Africa, but on the basis of the researchers’ personal experience it was assumed that the Judaeo-Christian tradition with its symbolism and traditions still play an important motivational and orientational role in the South African society (van der Ven/ Dreyer/Pieterse: 2004, 315). The moment of participation in the research is further underlined by the religious backgrounds of the researchers. The researchers are quite frank about the role that there own religious backgrounds played in the choices that they made with regard to the range of approaches within Christianity to be included in the empirical research: The adage that all research calls for choices applies a fortiore to empirical research. One can’t get away from it: whatever choices one makes and whatever “good reasons” one advances for them, they always reflect something of the researcher’s –

202

Jaco S. Dreyer

necessarily – selective knowledge and personal predilections. In our case, moreover, there were three researchers, from different Christian denominations, each with a specific background: a Catholic background shaped by the aggiornamento of pope John XXIII, notwithstanding the conservative counter-trend in the Vatican under pope John Paul II; and a Calvinist background shaped by the South African Dutch Reformed Church, which has only just been liberated from apartheid. (van der Ven/Dreyer/Pieterse: 2004, 317–318)

The choice of the research topic, the motivation for the research and the research aim were thus not done from the position of a spectator, or an outsider without any interest in the research itself. However, these same choices were also made against the background of the research expertise of the researchers, their knowledge of the literature in the field, their theoretical knowledge, in short, their critical engagement with this field of scholarly practice. This implies a moment of distanciation in the choice of the topic, the motivation for the research and the research aim. Furthermore, by using language, by formulating our ideas and questions in writing, by formulating a research question, by our critical reflection on the relation of socio-political and juridical transformation on the one hand and “religion” on the other, we engaged in this relative moment of distanciation in the complex process of interpretation as Ricoeur describes it. If we look more closely at the research question, we can also detect the moment of distanciation in the formulation of the research question and in the concepts used. Underlying the reference to background variables, human rights attitudes, religious attitudes, democracy, and so forth is a whole network of concepts and theories. The presumed relations between these different concepts, that is the conceptual framework for the research, also draw on a multitude of interdisciplinary theories.27 4.2 Sampling This time we start with the moment of distanciation. Sampling, whether it is the selection of participants, of places or actions, is an act of distanciation. It is a strategy to assist with the data collection, as it is impossible to collect all data. It is a way of bringing order to the data collection process in such a way that the data collection is meaningful. 27 The choice of a longitudinal survey design for this research also reflects the moment of distanciation. The aim was not only to investigate the relations between human rights attitudes and religious attitudes at one specific point in time, but to investigate changes in these attitudes and their relations over time. It was therefore decided to do the surveys in 1995 and in 2000 in private (multicultural) schools and in 1996 and in 2001 in public schools. We originally planned for data collection at the same schools at three points in time, but due to practical and other circumstances we decided to complete the project by the end of 2004 and not to do the third round of data collection in 2005 (private) and 2006 (public) schools.

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion

203

In this project we decided to focus on two grade eleven student populations in the Johannesburg and Pretoria metropolitan areas: students at a number of multicultural private (Anglican and Catholic) schools in 1995 and 2000, and some predominantly monocultural, white public schools students in 1996 and 2001 (van der Ven/Dreyer/Pieterse: 2004, 80). The use of these distinctions implies knowledge of the South African situation and a theoretical knowledge about the importance of certain factors such as culture (monocultural, multicultural), language (Afrikaans, English) and religion (Anglican, Roman Catholic, Reformed Protestant). We also used our knowledge of sampling size in order to select a sufficient number of participants for each subgroup in order to be able to do the statistical analyses (such as factor analyses) that we envisaged. The practical sampling decisions were thus informed by critical thinking about the research population, our knowledge about the South African situation, and our theoretical knowledge. The sampling, however, not only reflects the moment of distanciation. Sampling is not something that can be properly done in a mechanical fashion. In this research project we decided to involve grade eleven learners. One of the reasons for choosing grade eleven and not grade twelve learners is that the last year at school (grade twelve) is usually a very busy year with many examinations. It is thus difficult to find the time to complete the questionnaires during the normal school hours, and school principals are reluctant to involve the grade twelve learners in research projects due to the very busy schedules in this year. Another example of the moment of participation with regards to sampling is the communication with all the schools that were selected. We visited all the schools in order to make personal contact with the personnel and also to share the aims of the project. We gave copies of the questionnaire to each school, and permission was sought from all the relevant school governing bodies and educational structures. We also wrote letters to all the headmasters of the school that were selected in order to explain the background and aim of the project. The personal contact, in combination with letter writing and phone calls, helped to build relationships of trust with the schools that were selected. We repeated this aspect with each school in the second round of data collection at each particular school. Despite our efforts some schools withdrew from the project for a variety of reasons, but without the moment of participation our sampling would certainly have been less successful. 4.3 Questionnaire Construction It might be somewhat strange to say that the moment of participation has anything to do with the construction of a questionnaire. The use of surveys

204

Jaco S. Dreyer

is usually associated with quantitative research, and therefore with “explanation” rather than “understanding”. It is, however, interesting to note how important participation is in the construction of a questionnaire. I mention a few examples from our research. First, we tried to formulate the questions in such a way that they reflect the “lifeworld” of these youngsters. This implied the use of “experience-near” rather than “experience-distant” concepts (Geertz: 1999; 1974). Formulating questions for the questionnaire entailed “pinning down theological ideas in human behaviour (operations) and in ‘ordinary human language’ that meets the requirements of concreteness, unambiguous meaning, and adherence to the pluriform (religious) socialisation the respondents have undergone/are undergoing and contemporary (religious) practice – inasmuch as they take part in it – which in its turn differs from their socialisation” (van der Ven/Dreyer/Pieterse: 2004, 316–317).28 Secondly, we had to limit the length of the questionnaire to accommodate these youngsters. We did pilot studies to test the average time spent on completing the questionnaire. In the end the length of the questionnaire was such that the average time that these students take to complete it was about an hour. Thirdly, the operationalisation of concepts not only took the lifeworld of these youngsters into account by using “experience-near” formulations. It also took the different languages in South Africa, the different cultural and ecclesiological traditions, and also the religious, political, social and economic history of the country into account. A question such as “Should the community allow the Afrikaner Weerstandsbeweging (AWB) to use its town hall to hold a public meeting?” was formulated from the perspective of the “lifeworld” of these students and would not have made any sense in a context other than South Africa. The moment of distanciation in the construction of a questionnaire is fairly self-evident. The choice of and subsequent conceptualisation and operationalisation of concepts were deeply informed by the expertise and the theoretical and practical knowledge of the researchers. Extensive use was also made of the conceptualisation and operationalisation of key concepts from other surveys. For example, with regard to human rights attitudes, the key dependent variable in the survey, we made extensive use of human rights theory. On the basis of this knowledge we classified human rights into first generation (civil, political and judicial rights or “blue rights”), second generation (socio-economic or “red rights”) and third generation (“collective” rights, in particular “green rights”) rights. We also new 28 In a pilot study we specifically asked the participants whether they had difficulty understanding any words or formulations that we used in the questionnaire.

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion

205

from the literature that both the first and second generation of rights have an empirical basis (cf. van der Ven/Dreyer/Pieterse: 2004, 116–117). The conceptualisation and operationalisation of religion in this research were also based on extensive theoretical knowledge as well as years of empirical research experience. With regard to religion we focussed in this research on the fundamental symbolism of creation, alienation and salvation that permeates the entire Judaeo-Christian tradition (van der Ven/Dreyer/ Pieterse: 2004, 315). In order to get insight in this fundamental symbolism we chose a number of religious themes: images of God, the evil of violence, faces of Jesus, and salvation. We also added two other themes, namely Christian communities and interreligious interaction. The choice of these religious themes provides us with a good example of the moment of distanciation in a research context. 4.4 Data Analysis The moment of distanciation with regard to data analysis is also easy to recognise. We made extensive use of multivariate descriptive and inferential statistics in order to analyse the data of the four surveys (1995, 1996, 2000 and 2001) that we conducted. All the choices with regard to the data cleaning and the construction of the data set and the statistical techniques (such as factor analysis, regression analysis, and so forth) had to be carefully considered and motivated. We had to decide on specific criteria to be used for the analyses, for example for scale construction (cf. van der Ven 1993). We also had to work out a data analysis strategy to be able to compare the data across the four surveys. Participation also plays an important role in data analysis. Experienced researchers know that they have to make statistical choices not only on the basis of their statistical expertise and theoretical knowledge, but also on the basis of their knowledge of the context in which the research is done. The question on religious preference, for example, contains 39 answering categories in the questionnaire. These 39 categories had to be drastically reduced in order to be used in further statistical analyses. These 39 categories were eventually recoded in the categories “Anglican”, “Catholic”, “Afrikaans-speaking Reformed Churches”, “Other Christian religion”, “Other religion”, “No religion” on the basis of statistical criteria, but also the researchers’ intimate knowledge of the population and the denominational and religious scene in South Africa. In contrast to the positivist assumption that the researcher’s role in the research process must be minimised and ideally eliminated, one can see from this example that the researchers’ “horizon of understanding” in this case contributed positively to the data analysis and interpretation.

206

Jaco S. Dreyer

4.5 The Dialectical Tension between Participation and Distanciation The above examples from the Human Rights and Religion project (HRR) demonstrate that participation and distanciation, in the methodological sense that we outlined above (section 3), form part of every research endeavour. It should also be clear that participation and distanciation are not restricted to specific steps or actions in the research process, as if participation is important for the development of the research question but not for the data analysis, or distanciation is important for the data analysis but not for data collection. If we look through the hermeneutical lens that we described above, we see that there is a moment of participation and distanciation in each and every step of the research process. In the words of Ricoeur we can say that participation and distanciation are not mutually exclusive poles, but relative moments of the complex process of interpretation that penetrates all our research activities (1991, 126). This brings us back to the dialectical relation between participation and distanciation that we described above (3.3). We argued that participation is in need of distanciation, because it is through distanciation, through objective analysis and critique, that knowledge does not become ideological. Absolute knowledge is impossible, but owing to distanciation we can at least partially free knowledge from our relation of belonging, from our prejudices. On the other hand we argued that distanciation is in need of participation, because it is through participation, through the fusion of horizons, through the ability to open myself to the perspective of others (cf. Grondin: 2003, 100), that knowledge does not become utopian. Again, absolute knowledge is impossible, but owing to participation we can at least partially free knowledge from losing its grounding in the context and lifeworld of the research participants. We also said that the way to maintain such a dialectical relation between participation and distanciation is through reflexivity: by reflecting on our own research practices, by being part of research communities that help us to reflect on our research practices, and also to reflect on scientific practices themselves (cf. Dreyer: 2006). We can now return to the research project and ask whether we succeeded in maintaining the dialectic between participation and distanciation. Did we succeed in taking distance from our own prejudices, from our relations of belonging, from our own political, social, economic, cultural and religious interests in the knowledge that we constructed? Did we succeed in grounding the knowledge that we constructed in the lifeworlds of the participants, in really opening up ourselves to the perspectives of the research participants? These are, of course, difficult questions to answer, and I shall not attempt here to give answers to these questions. Instead, I shall briefly explain how we tried to build the aspect of reflexivity into the research proc-

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion

207

ess to try to prevent the knowledge that we constructed from being either ideological or utopian. First, we followed a team-based approach to the project. The diversity of contexts and experiences that the different researchers brought to the research project enriched both aspects of participation and distanciation tremendously, and also helped in our reflections on the tension between contextualisation and decontextualisation. For more than a decade we kept close contact, had working sessions for a month of two each year, read literature together, tried to immerse ourselves in the political, economic, cultural, social and religious situation in South Africa, gathered as much as possible literature, newspaper articles, and so forth on the research topic, held discussions with colleagues and read and criticised each other’s work. We also had numerous meetings with “stakeholders” such as church leaders, headmasters from schools, government officials, and we visited the schools personally to observe the context in which we conducted the surveys. We also took much trouble to ensure that we put ourselves in the place of “the other”, those students who participated in our project and who we consider to be the future of South Africa. For example, we involved students from the target population, as well as teachers and parents, to give feedback on the questionnaire. However, despite our efforts I think the quality of the participation aspect of the research could have been enhanced by more interaction with these students to try to get an even better view of their lifeworlds and their views on the topics that we researched, as well as by getting their feedback on our interpretations.29 Secondly, we involved the broader scientific community as far as possible. The research benefited much from the input of colleagues and the wider scholarly community. We invited specialists in a variety of fields to become part of a board of consulting scholars, and this board of consulting scholars gave invaluable feedback and practical assistance, especially in the planning stages of the project. The consulting scholars also gave feedback on our research proposal and on the questionnaire. At a later stage we also involved many other persons and colleagues as critical readers, as statistical consultants, as theoretical specialists and as specialists in research methodology to advise us on technical aspects, to critique our interpretations, and thus to help ensure that we do our research with integrity. We also invited colleagues and specialists as critical readers of the drafts of our research publications. Last but not least, we also benefited from the peer review process as all our research publications were peer reviewed.

29 We planned to do some qualitative interviews, but that did not materialize due to practical and other constraints.

208

Jaco S. Dreyer

5. Conclusion More than academic relevance is at stake in this methodological debate. We started with the study of religion in Africa and I would like to return to that theme. The construction of knowledge (scholarship) is not a neutral exercise done in an ivory tower by researchers stripped of their subjectivity. The interpretations that we make can, and often do, have serious political, economic, social, and cultural ramifications. This was always the case, but with globalisation and the lightning fast flow of information across the globe, this seems to be even more so. The recent outcry amongst Muslims about the speech of Pope Benedict XVI in a lecture titled Faith, Reason and the University: Memories and Reflections in which it was alleged that he referred to Islam as a violent religion30 just highlights the challenges and responsibilities of those doing research in religion (2006). If we add to these globalisation processes the return of religion on the stage of world affairs and the strained relations in many parts of the world between adherents of different religions, in particular between Muslims and Christians, our responsibilities become even greater. In the concluding words of the editors of the two-volume New approaches to the study of religion: scholars of religion face pressures from ideological, political and religious interest groups. Resisting these pressures not only involves responsible science, but also a great deal of sensitivity to the human issues that often lay behind these pressures. (Antes/Geertz/Warne: 2004, 458)

This is, amongst other things, what is at stake in this methodological debate. Is Wiebe correct in emphasizing the importance of explanation in order to safeguard the “scientific” status of religious research? Yes and no. Yes, we should strive to maintain high scientific standards and to improve our theories. No, if this means a focus only on highly decontextualised interpretations without taking the “lifeworlds” of the research participants seriously. Is Gothóni correct to stress the importance of the pole of understanding, of Einfühlung with the research participants and their interpretations, in order to provide us with an authentic “insider” perspective? Yes, definitely. But no, if this places the emphasis only on the “insider” or participant perspective with little regard for the critical comparative task of this hermeneutical endeavour we call research. From our discussion it must be clear:

30 Pope Benedictus XVI (2006) was actually quoting the words of the Byzantine emperor Manuel II Paleologus, probably in 1391, as published in an edition by T. Khoury, on the theme of the holy war. The quotation reads: “Show me just what Mohammed brought that was new, and there you will find things only evil and inhuman, such as his command to spread by the sword the faith he preached”.

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion

209

research, also research in religion, must be done in the dialectical tension between participation ánd distanciation. The colonial past may seem far removed in many parts of the world, and may be an extreme case, but we face similar challenges today in the study of religion. How is the “other”, and more specifically the “religious other”, portrayed in our research? This is not merely an academic question. The comparative study of Christianity and Islam, for example, poses important methodological challenges. This is particularly so in the light of the political, cultural, social and even economic tensions in the world. How can we do research of living religious traditions across cultural, linguistic, social and religious borders in a world characterised by tremendous suspicion and even fear? The question of “the other” – whether the other as a migrant other, or a cultural other, or a racial other, or a gendered other, or a religious other – is inescapable in our research practices. Striving to maintain the tension between participation and distanciation in our research practices could be a step in the right direction.

References ANTES, P./GEERTZ, A.W./WARNE, R.R. (2004), Conclusion, in: P. Antes/A.W. Geertz/R.R. Warne (ed.), New Approaches to the Study of Religion, vol. 1: Regional, Critical, and Historical Approaches, Berlin, 457–458. BECKFORD, J.A. (2003), Social theory and religion, Cambridge. BENEDICTUS XVI. (2006), Faith, Reason and the University. Memories and Reflections. Paper Read at the Aula Magna of the University of Regensburg, 12 September 2006. http://www. vatican.va/holy_father/benedict_xvi/speeches/2006/september/documents/hf_benxvi_spe_20060912_university-regensburg_en.html. BIEN, J. (1995), Ricoeur as Social Philosopher, in: L.E. Hahn (ed.), The Philosophy of Paul Ricoeur, Chicago, 287–305. BOURDIEU, P. (1990), In Other Words: Essays towards a Reflexive Sociology, Stanford. BOURDIEU, P. (1999), The Weight of the World: Social Suffering in Contemporary Society, London. BOURDIEU, P. (2004), Science of Science and Reflexivity, transl. by R. Nice, Chicago. BOURDIEU, P./CHAMBOREDON, J.-C./PASSERON, J.-C. (1991), The Craft of Sociology: Epistemological Preliminaries, ed. by B. Krais and transl. by R. Nice, Berlin. CHIDESTER, D. (1996), Savage Systems: Colonialism and Comparative Religion in Southern Africa, Cape Town. COX, J.L. (2004), Afterword: Separating Religion from the “Sacred”: Methodological Agnosticism and the Future of Religious Studies, in: S.J. Sutcliffe (ed.), Religion: Empirical Studies, Aldershot. DREYER, J.S. (1998), The Researcher: Engaged Participant or Detached Observer? A Reflection on the Methodological Implications of the Dialectics of Belonging and Distanciation for Empirical Research in Practical Theology, JET 11, 5–22. DREYER, J.S. (2004), Theological Normativity: Ideology or Utopia? Reflections on the Possible Contribution of Empirical Research, in: J.A. van der Ven/M. Scherer-Rat (ed.), Normativity and Empirical Research in Theology, Leiden, 3–16.

210

Jaco S. Dreyer

DREYER, J.S. (2006), Establishing Truth from Participation and Distanciation in Empirical Theology, paper presented at the ISERT Conference in Bangor, Wales, 21 April. DUBUISSON, D. (2003), The Western Construction of Religion: Myths, Knowledge and Ideology, Baltimore. FAY, B. (1996), Contemporary Philosophy of Social Science: a Multicultural Approach, Oxford. GADAMER, H.-G. (²1993), Truth and Method, London. GEERTZ, C. (1974/1999), “From the native’s point of view”: On the Nature of Anthropological Understanding, in: R.T. McCutcheon (ed.), The Insider/Outsider Problem in the Study of Religion: A Reader, London. GOETZ, J.P./LECOMPTE, M.D. (1984), Ethnography and Qualitative Design in Educational Research, New York. GOTHÓNI, R. (ed.). (2005a), How to Do Comparative Religion? Three Ways, Many Goals, Berlin. GOTHÓNI, R. (2005b), Understanding the Other, in: R. Gothóni (ed.), How to Do Comparative Religion? Three Ways, Many Goals, Berlin, 99–126. GRONDIN, J. (2003), The Philosophy of Gadamer, Montreal. HABERMAS, J. (1971), Knowledge and Human Interests, Boston. HABERMAS, J. (1984), The Theory of Communicative Action, vol. 1, Boston. HERVIEU-LÉGER, D. (2000), Religion as a Chain of Memory, New Brunswick, N.J. JENKINS, R. (1992), Pierre Bourdieu, London. JOY, M.M. (2004), Philosophy and Religion, in: P. Antes/A.W. Geertz/R.R. Warne (ed.), New Approaches to the Study of Religion, vol. 1: Regional, Critical, and Historical Approaches, Berlin. KRÜGER, J.S. (1995), Along Edges, Pretoria. KUNNEMAN, H. (1996), Van theemutscultuur naar walkman-ego: contouren van postmoderne individualiteit, Amsterdam. LUDWIG, F./ADOGAME, A. (2004), Introduction. Historiography and European Perceptions of African Religious History, in: F. Ludwig/A. Adogame (ed.), European Traditions in the Study of Religion in Africa, Wiesbaden, 1–22. MCCUTCHEON, R.T. (ed.), (1999), The Insider/Outsider Problem in the Study of Religion: A Reader, London. PLATVOET, J.G./MOLENDIJK, A.L. (ed.) (1999), The Pragmatics of Defining Religion: Contexts, Concepts and Contests, Leiden. POPULATION CENSUS (1991), Summarised Results After Adjustment for Undercount, No. 03-01-01, Pretoria. PORTER, T.M. (1995), Trust in Numbers: The pursuit of Objectivity in Science and Public Life, Princeton. PYYSIÄINEN, I. (2001), How Religion Works: Towards a New Cognitive Science of Religion, Leiden. RICOEUR, P. (1974), The Conflict of Interpretations. Essays in Hermeneutics, Evaston. RICOEUR, P. (1981), Hermeneutics and the Human Sciences: Essays on Language, Action and Interpretation, ed., transl. and introduced by J.B. Thompson, Cambridge. RICOEUR, P. (1991), From Text to Action: Essays in Hermeneutics, II, London. RICOEUR, P. (1992), Oneself as Another, Chicago. SAYER, A. (1992²), Method in Social Science: a Realist Approach, London. VAN DER VEN, J.A. (1993), Practical Theology: an Empirical Approach, Kampen. VAN DER VEN, J.A./DREYER, J.S./PIETERSE, H.J.C. (2004), Is there a God of Human Rights? The Complex Relationship between Human Rights and Religion: a South African Case, Leiden. VAN RINSUM, H.J. (2004), “They became slaves of their definitions.” Okot p’Bitek (1931–1982) and the European Traditions in the Study of African Religions, in: F. Ludwig/A. Adogame (ed.), European Traditions in the Study of Religion in Africa, Wiesbaden, 23–38. WHALING, F. (1995), Introduction, in: F. Whaling (ed.), Theory and Method in Religious Studies: Contemporary Approaches to the Study of Religion, Berlin, 1–39.

Participation and Distanciation in the Study of Religion

211

WIEBE, D. (2005), Beyond Thick Descriptions and Interpretive Sciences: Explaining Religious Meaning, in: R. Gothóni (ed.), How to Do Comparative Religion? Three Ways, Many Goals, Berlin, 65–82. WIEBE, D. (2005), Response. Religious Studies: Many Methods, One Overriding Goal, in: R. Gothóni (ed.), How to Do Comparative Religion? Three Ways, Many Goals, Berlin, 127–140.

4 Discussing Research Methods

Qualitative, Quantitative and Phenomenological Approaches to Experience – Complementary and Contrary Empirical-Theological Soundings from a Research Project on Family Rituals CHRISTOPH MORGENTHALER University of Bern, Switzerland

There is no such thing as an immediate experience. Even in the empirical sciences, experience is not directly apprehended. This is a well-known problem. Data sunt capta. Experience is mediated experience. What appears as experience is determined by the methods of approaching experience, is mediated through the modes of representation of experience and is also a result of theoretical conceptualisations of reality and experience, immediacy and mediacy. The importance of such conceptualisations of experience will be discussed in this article with regard to a debate accompanying empirical research during the last decades. Scientific methods of approaching experience were quite often separated along a boundary setting apart the “qualitative” from the “quantitative” methods. Whether and how they could be related to one another was the topic of heated scientific arguments and tribal factionalisms. Questions related to that debate shall be tackled in the following: Which modes of representation of reality, which ideas of immediacy and mediacy are connected with these two approaches? Is there a way to combine quantitative and qualitative approaches or do they exclude one another? Provided combinations are possible, what could be the benefit of such mixed designs? Can they add something specific to empiricaltheological research? These questions will not only be discussed on a theoretical level but will also be elaborated with regard to a research project dealing with family rituals – and bedtime rituals in particular.

214

Christoph Morgenthaler

1. Qualitative, Quantitative and Phenomenological Views on Experience in Interplay? In the sixties and seventies of the last century the “qualitative turn” was proclaimed as a “far-reaching change of social sciences” (Mayring: 2002, 9). Qualitative, constructivistic and phenomenological methods were propagated as alternatives to the established paradigm of quantitative research and quantitative research discredited as “positivistic-empiricistic”. Qualitative research was in return manhandled too. Tashakkori/Teddlie (1998, 3f.) even speak of “wars” of the “QUAN”s against the “QUAL”s, becoming increasingly unproductive towards the end of the eighties and at the beginning of the nineties.1 The heated debates have faded today. The development of qualitative methods stimulated the methodological discussion in the human sciences and had a lasting effect on research methodology (Mayring: 2001). Caricatures of qualitative and quantitative research have been corrected. Today, established German textbooks on research methodology integrate sections on qualitative methods (cf. e.g. Bortz/Döring: 1995, 271–325).2 Exponents of qualitative research, on the other hand, open up to research strategies and methods of quantitative research (cf. e.g. Mayring: 2001). Both approaches have demonstrated their usefulness in many different areas of social research. Models of combining quantitative and qualitative research were used in conventional social research already (e.g. qualitative pilot studies as first step of quantitative research). Under the label of “mixed methods”, such combined strategies of research were further developed and accredited as a distinct type of research design3 (cf. e.g. Greene/Caracelli/Graham: 1989; Tashakkori/Teddlie: 1998; Creswell et al.: 2003; Mayring: 2001). These designs do not build on “mix-max-methodologies”, on haphazard combinations of qualitative and quantitative methods. Instead, they build on carefully reflected forms of combining qualitative and quantitative methods, explicitly justified with regard to research goals and objects (already: Greene/Caracelli/Graham: 1989). This approximation of quantitative and 1 The debate dates back to the middle of the nineteenth century, flashed up again in the sociology of the 1920s and 1930s before it became an issue in most areas of social research in the last decades (according to Tashakkori/Teddlie: 1998, 6). 2 As early as 1979, Jick notes for the English-speaking social sciences: „Most textbooks underscore the desirability of mixing methods given the strengths and weaknesses found in single method designs“ (602). It took more time in the German-speaking social sciences, to come to the same positive evaluation of these mixed model designs. 3 Creswell et al. (1998) define: „A mixed methods study involves the collection or analysis of both quantitative and/or qualitative data in a single study in which the data are collected concurrently or sequentially, are given a priority, and involve the integration of the data at one or more stages in the process of research” (212).

Approaches to Experience

215

qualitative methods became important for empirical theology too. The subtitle of van der Vens book God reinvented? reads: „A Theological Search in Texts and Tables“ (van der Ven: 1998). „Texts“ and „tables“ represent the two approaches which, according to van der Ven, can enter into a reciprocal relationship (van der Ven 1998: 22; 58ff.). Still, the problems connected with a reciprocal relation between the different qualitative and quantitative methods and methodologies are far from being off the scientific stove. Instead, we can ask more clearly and precisely where the differences in the approaches are located, what meaningful combinations of methods should look like and which scientific-theoretical questions have to be treated. Benefits and risks of these method combinations can also be more accurately assessed. It is here where we will begin and deal with the relevant questions. Additionally, the question shall be raised, in the context of this collection of papers, how this debate can be correlated to phenomenologically oriented empirical theological research. At first glance, there are strong affinities between the qualitative and the phenomenological approaches: proximity to life-world; self-orientation; self-reflection; delayed objectification; these are all hallmarks of both qualitative and phenomenological approaches to reality.4 The distance appears to be greater to quantitative oriented research methods and approaches to reality. But is this predetermined scheme not increasingly problematic, if not out of date, considering the strengths of combined models of empirical research? Could it be that combinations of qualitative and quantitative approaches amount to a third way which can be brought into creative tension with phenomenology? To put it in a different way: Are quantitative methods “domesticated” in combination with qualitative methods, so that they become tolerable if not even productive also for phenomenological empirical theology? Moreover: Will the quality of qualitative methods be enhanced in these combined models of empirical research so that they gain additional value for the elucidation of experience also in phenomenological perspective? By reference to a specific project of empirical research we will try to show in several steps how quantitative and qualitative methods can be associated. Afterwards, we will return to the pertinent scientific-theoretical questions and will continue the discussion of relevant aspects of the relations between different empirical approaches to “experience”.

4 Heimbrock calls cultural anthropology – a leading force in the development of qualitative methods – a „useful ally“ of a phenomenologically oriented version of empirical theology (Heimbrock: 2005, 291).

216

Christoph Morgenthaler

2. The Combination of Quantitative and Qualitative Methods in a Research Project on Family Rituals 2.1 The Research Project The project we want to deal with is an elaborate research scheme on family rituals initiated by the Institute for Practical Theology at Berne/Switzerland. Within the framework of a Swiss national research programme – “Childhood, youth and intergenerational relations in a changing society” (NFP 52 of the Swiss National Foundation for the Sciences) – this research project deals mainly with three types of (family) rituals: baptism, Christmas celebrations and bedtime rituals. Family rituals are important for the functioning of healthy families as empirical research has amply demonstrated (cf. Fiese/Tomcho/Douglas: 2002; Morgenthaler: 2005). They are an important part of families’ life-worlds, regulating relationships within and beyond the family, stimulating identity formation and the making of meaning. There is little research done, though, on this topic in Switzerland. Baptism, Christmas celebrations and bedtime rituals – rituals celebrated once in a lifetime, in a seasonal rhythm or even daily – were analysed with qualitative methods. Two surveys on the ritual practices of Swiss families helped to reframe the insights gained in the qualitative studies in a broader social context. In addition, children were focused as co-actors in the staging of these family rituals. The methodological questions raised above shall be discussed with regard to one sub-project of this research scheme, the project on bedtime rituals. This project deals with family’s activities in the evening. Families with at least one child age 5 to 6 were observed and interviewed with regard to what they do when children are brought to bed. In many families, these activities take – at least partly – a ritual form. The aim of the research project, therefore, was to analyse the forms, the content and the functions of these ritual activities. 2.2 The Mixed Method Research Model In the methodological debates on mixed methods, specific models of combining quantitative and qualitative methods are increasingly presented and discussed. The following description of the research project on evening rituals (figure 1) is also oriented on the conventions for mapping methods which have been developed in this discussion (cf. e.g. Morse: 1998, 197ff).5

5 For these conventions compare e.g. Creswell et al. (1998), 214. In the other projects of our research scheme this relation between quantitative and qualitative methods was established partly in the same way, partly qualified in a different way according to the research object and the specific methods used. There is no unique preconfigured way to combine methods. Adequate models of combination have to be developed instead.

Approaches to Experience

Fig. 1: Combination of qualitative and quantitative research steps

217

218

Christoph Morgenthaler

From the beginning of the project, research was undertaken on two tracks as the diagram shows. On one hand, bedtime rituals were analysed with qualitative methods. Guided interviews, video recordings of bedtime rituals in families with a child age 5–6 and video based interviews (“video based recall”) were the main methods used. On the other hand, bedtime rituals were also illuminated with quantitative methods: In a representative survey more than 1300 Swiss parents of children aged 6 or 8 were asked – among others – questions concerning the bedtime rituals they celebrate with their children and their motivation to do so. These two lines of research were carefully related to one another during the whole research process. All steps in this process – the conceptual design, the preliminary and the main studies, the analysis of the data and the integration and interpretation of the results – implied different forms of combining qualitative and quantitative methods. The actual ways of combining the two approaches varied from step to step. There were times – e.g. phase 1 of the planning of the main quantitative and qualitative research strategies – when the combination of methods (and methodologies) was one of the main challenges. And there were other times – especially during the collection and analysis of the data – when qualitative and quantitative research was done almost completely independent of each other. Some of the issues particularly important for our discussion shall be briefly highlighted: 2.2.1 Conceptual Level When we planned the project we already supposed that quantitative and qualitative approaches should not be opposites but could be combined for the benefit of a multi-faceted view of the rituals scrutinized. There were several reasons we decided to combine the two approaches: We wanted to hook up with the on-going methodological debate on mixed methods, of course. But this was not the only or even primary reason to do so. From the beginning, representatives of different methodological stances were on the research staff and had to cooperate and to rely on each other.6 This prompted methodological discussions as well. While we worked together it became more and more apparent how deeply rooted in autobiography, how closely connected with personal values and preferences these two approaches to “experience” were. Neither could they be always connected in a nice and gentle manner, nor could they be separated in an easy “either or”. 6 The problem is presented intentionally on this level of personal commitments and group dynamics because here was its specific life situation. This problematic often remains buried under abstract concepts.

Approaches to Experience

219

At the same time we held in common some basic scientific-theoretical assumptions implied in our work, opening ways for combining the approaches: Reality is constituted by the ways we relate to it; scientific practices influence deeply our mapping of reality; methods are ways of reality construction or re-construction. The preferences, anthropological and theological stances connected with empirical research strategies limit our access to “reality”, bring about distorted, partial, fragmentary perspectives on facets of what could be a whole. Methodologies help in the critical reflection of the principles of scientific reality construction. In a reflective combination of qualitative and quantitative approaches we identified the potential of depicting “experience” with higher complexity – a complexity not accessible with a qualitative or quantitative methodological approach alone. The combination of qualitative and quantitative approaches became particularly virulent at one point: The debates about the meaning of “religion” were endless. While the representatives of qualitative methods suspected subjects of research would be unduly trimmed in their statements about religion and even in their religious competence when analysed by quantitative methods, the “Quans” in our project could not conceal their suspicion that qualitative methods are so congenial to a theology favouring hermeneutics and interpretation because they are methodically too “soft” and would not set adequate boundaries to speculation.7 At this point again, neither false alternatives nor bad compromises were of help. Thus, the different methodological approaches to “experience”, “religion” etc. became again and again an issue, on the interpersonal level, in the group dynamics and empirical-theological alignments. 2.2.2 Qualitative (-Quantitative) Research Designs After the exploratory video recordings and interviews aimed at developing specific methods for the empirical inquiry, two classic approaches of qualitative research were mainly used. Firstly, on the basis of empirical data collected with a wide range of qualitative methods (guided interviews, video recording and video based interviews; data concerning the socioecological context of the families; interviews with children; videorecordings made by children; children’s drawings), case studies were developed aiming at a dense description of the “evening ecologies” of the different families. Data and interpretation were allocated in such a way the connections between case material and interpretation could be traced back at any time. Furthermore, the transcribed interviews and the video recordings were put through qualitative content analysis: By reference to the 7 Of course, the frontiers were not so clear-cut in our team. They went partly right through the researchers themselves!

220

Christoph Morgenthaler

video and interview materials and through theoretical consideration categories for the analysis of the content were developed, refined until interrater reliability was satisfactory and then the whole corpus of data was analysed. Towards the end of the qualitative analysis quantifying methods were inserted again as figure 1 shows: the results of the content analysis were summarized using quantitative measures too. Creswell et al. (2003, 229f.) call this type of research design a “concurrent nested design“. Quantitative steps of analysis are nested within a primarily qualitative research project (the mnemonic illustrates the qualitative approach comprising the quantitative “nodes”). 2.2.3 Quantitative (-Qualitative) Research Designs As figure 1 shows, the qualitative and quantitative methods could not be neatly segregated in designing the survey. They had to be interconnected again. In developing the questionnaire a sequential allocation was chosen as it is often used in quantitative survey research (mnemonic: QUAL -> QUANT). Many items of the questionnaire were formulated using sentences found in the exploratory interviews. The conceptualisation of the different parts of the questionnaire was fine tuned with the hypotheses developed on the basis of theoretical concepts and the exploratory data. In the questionnaire comprising mainly “closed-ended questions” open parts were also integrated where parents could answer without restriction.8 The reactions to such open questions have to be analysed – at least in a first step – with qualitative methods too. Again, content analysis is needed to categorise these statements and to deal with them in a controlled and transparent manner. Therefore, in collecting and analysing the quantitative data, qualitative methods were inserted. It goes without saying that most of the questions were closed-ended questions and the answers could be analysed with quantitative methods. Again, this is an example of a “concurrent nested design“, but with inverted leading sign: the quantitative approach is forming the frame in which qualitative steps of analysis are integrated. 2.2.4 Integrating Qualitative and Quantitative Methods in the Interpretation of Data Overlooking the whole design of the research project one can discern a “parallel mixed model study” (Tashakkori/Teddlie: 1998).9 The project combines qualitative and quantitative elements, while tracking the two approaches independent from one another as well. Fair enough, the promise 8 In the section of the questionnaire about the evening rituals, these were questions concerning evening songs and elements of the ritual not mentioned in the questionnaire. 9 It is type VII of 8 types of “mixed model designs” (Tashakkori/Teddlie: 1998, 151ff).

Approaches to Experience

221

and challenge of such a procedure comes back towards the end of the project: the qualitative (-quantitative) and the quantitative (-qualitative) data collected have again to be related to each other and have to be integrated as well. This is the only way to tap the full potential of reality representation implied in the mix of methods chosen. Again, false alternatives had to be avoided: qualitative data integrating quantitative nodes, and quantitative data with qualitative facets had to be related to one another. Of course, such an integration of methods – “the most typical case in the integration of the two forms of research” (Creswell et al.: 2003, 220) – raises again the question of how the concepts of human reality connected with these approaches can be mediated – if not reconciled – in a meaningful way. This leads to a fifth level important for the question we are dealing with. 2.2.5 Quantitative and Qualitative Assets in the Methodological Reflection of the Project and its Results The two approaches not only differ from one another with regard to the methods used and the methodological principles observed. Connected with the differences in methods and methodologies are also different concepts of reality, causality, people and society. Therefore, the integration of the approaches entails not only methodical but also philosophical challenges. The methods are not really the problem. They can be combined. But the perspectives on reality and experience, the implied anthropological stances and the ideas of causation and free will, of subjectivity and objectivity cannot easily be reconciled. Questions pertaining to these philosophical issues become crucial if we want to avoid “mix max interpretations”. The coordination of the two approaches just delineated is, of course, only one possible form of combining qualitative and quantitative methods in a larger research project. It is in a certain way closely tied to this specific case of research. But it mirrors general trends as well, surfacing more and more in the methodological debate. Such a model of research can be subsumed neither to the quantitative nor to the qualitative paradigm of empirical research. It creates something new, a “third way” which is more than the mere combination of the two approaches. Up to now, we were dealing with our questions on a methodological and strategic level of empirical science. We will now use data from our project to show in more details how this combination of methods can add insight to a deeper and more thorough analysis of social phenomena and what exactly the “third way”, the added value of a reflective combination of methods could be.

222

Christoph Morgenthaler

3. Bedtime Rituals – Qualitative and Quantitative Perspectives We cannot, of course, present the rich material collected in our empirical studies. Instead, we will show in a few exemplary steps how we combined the different approaches and relevant ‘data’ and which additional value for the adequate representation of ‘reality’ could be drawn from this mixed model design. We will proceed as follows: Firstly, we will show how quantitative and qualitative data were combined in that particular research project and what the scientific benefit of such a combination is for better understanding bedtime rituals. Secondly, choosing the qualitative vantage point, the additional value of mixing methods shall be demonstrated. Thirdly, we will focus the merits of the quantitative approach for a broad and multi-faceted view of bedtime rituals. 3.1 The Advantage of Combining Qualitative and Quantitative Methods in Research on Bedtime Rituals 3.1.1 Case Studies The rich material collected was first condensed into case studies. Both the analysis of the video tapes and the content analysis of the interviews with parents and children were integrated. This is true also for the following example of a bedtime ritual which enables a glimpse into one of the families studied: The Inderbitzins – the name is ficticious – is a family of five persons. Piero, the protagonist, just began attending Kindergarten. The first episode videotaped by the family shows the following setting: Piero, after dressing the pyjama, is in the living room, making himself comfortable and zapping through the television channels while drinking milk from his bottle. Afterwards his father washes his face and brushes his teeth. The two boys stroll to their bedroom, where they each have a bunk-bed. Piero’s skin is irritated. Mother treats his face with a skin-cream. After the lubrication of his skin, mother asks Piero whether he would like to do something special this evening. To her amazement he says: yes, of course, he would like to learn to tie his shoe laces again. Since he goes to Kindergarten he would like to be one of “them” and in order to achieve this you really have to master the tiny, but laborious task of tying your show laces. Mother is prepared for the worst. At times, Piero gets hopping mad if ends do not fit together again. His wish has the potential to destroy the bedtime ritual. With much patience and cajoling the procedure moves on without a hitch. Father comes into the bedroom as well. Now, a prayer is said, which mother starts and ends with a few words. The centre-piece of this prayer is a long litany in which persons from the family, relatives and friends are mentioned whom God might protect and give his blessings. Next comes a conjoint family song. During the interview mother concedes that at this point she has the feeling: “Soon it will be over again”. But this is not how Piero feels. He immediately has to go to the toilet. Without the feared antics he comes back and climbs on his bunk bed again. The family sings another song,

Approaches to Experience

223

father says good-night to Piero, mother covers him with the blanket – apparently without much success. Piero makes another performance in front of the camera: He lets a string swirl through the air. A few minutes later he is fast asleep.

What could be summarized only roughly here could be analysed in detail. The “objective” as well as the “subjective” data allow a multi-faceted view on the staging of the ritual and give an intimate access to the subjective experience and interpretations of the parents. Each of the elements of the ritual follows a particular interactional logic. The interpretative perspectives of the different actors can also be traced back on the basis of the interviews. The interviewees put them in relation to developments in their biography, to values and belief systems and to their perspectives of the other family actors in the bedtime ritual.10 This procedure allows an analysis of bedtime rituals and the family’s “evening ecologies” from a perspective of participant observation – the camera was interactively integrated as a type of “observer” into the family interaction – and from the perspective of the parents involved in the rituals.11 The video-recordings let the researcher come very near to the evening scene without interfering too much. This is, of course, the advantage of qualitative methods. “Case studies are thought to approximate the ideal of qualitative research, because they allow a wholistic view of the acting subjects with their complex relations to their context” (according to Mayring: 2001, section 18). But, at the same time, this is not “the” immediate experience, it is always mediated experience, filtered through the adjustment of the camera, determined also through the conceptual framework of the researcher, ever changing and adapting to new discoveries as the research process unfolds, but structuring perception all the same. In addition to that, the rich data captured by the camera on the visual level can never be translated into words. There are always reductions and interpretations interplaying with observation. This leads to another difficulty connected with this procedure: How can the wealth of data fostered by such family case studies be presented anyhow? And: Can we really draw valid general conclusions from single cases or do we have to make additional steps of integrative analysis? We decided to add stages of generalisation through intra- and interfamily comparisons, through the elaboration of types and the quantification of qualitative case

10 Each case study comprises between 40 to 60 pages of text and refers to at least as much video and interview transcriptions. 11 The integration of children into the interviewing was difficult. The video recordings themselves proved to be the most ecologically valid representation of the behavioural and interpreting perspectives of children.

224

Christoph Morgenthaler

material.12 This was the only meaningful way to combine the qualitative and quantitative approach. 3.1.2 Ritual Elements – Content Analysis and the Creation of Typologies Bedtime rituals are “built” out of elements, interactive units, as our example shows. This can be deduced from objective indices of the sequencing and from the way parents talk about evening rituals. They also seem to assume that different “building blocks” are joined together and fixed with “interactive plaster”. Comparing the different rituals, we can easily detect the “liturgy” behind the scene which is repeated evening after evening with an astonishing continuity and stability in time. Some elements have their fixed place in the liturgy and are repeated every evening. Others vary from one evening to the next. As a rule, the fixed elements form a sort of “ritual axis” and are very often a legacy from former generations: a song is transmitted from generation to generation or stories are told very much in the way grandparents told them when parents were still children ... By way of content categorisation and comparisons between the families, we established an inventory of typical sequences of such evening rituals. This inventory shows how manifold the culturally and religiously coded elements staged by parents and children are and it illustrates the complex processes of internalisation children are trained in where at first sight nothing much really happens. More than eighty different types of activities could be identified. We can give but a few examples: “Nesting”

Child settles down on the bed, adjusts his/her dolls etc., slips under the blanket. Parent covers child, helps child settling down.

Transition object

Dolls are put, adjusted etc. Use of media (tape recorder, chimes etc.).

Reading, telling a story

Story is read/told from a book by parent; improvised storytelling.

Singing

One or more songs are sung; songs are altered, improvised personal verses are partly added.

Playing with language

Rhymes, verses, tongue twisters, free play with language.

Role playing

Character from a story, song etc. is improvised in role-play

Looking back on Events of the day are told, remembered, discussed. the day

12 Kelle/Kluge (1999) distinguish the following steps of qualitative research we followed: case studies, comparing and contrasting phenomena within single families and between families, quantification, development of types, the development of hypotheses and object-related theory.

Approaches to Experience

225

Knowledge about the world

Child positions him/herself in time, space and with regard to topics (money etc.). Knowledge of the child is validated, “universalised” by parent.

Reassurance of attachment

Parent and child reassure one another of their bonding (Child: “I love you.” Mother: “I love you too.”).

Goodbye kiss

Parents give child goodbye kiss (always or under certain conditions)

3.1.3 Type Building and Survey Research In typing the sequences of bedtime rituals, a step of abstraction and generalisation is implied, leading away from the specific situation of the families and rendering possible a comparison of the families on a qualitative level of analysis. This typing opens a way to combine the qualitative insights with quantitative data. In the survey, a list of the characteristic elements of the bedtime rituals gathered by way of qualitative analysis of the video tapes was presented as items of the questionnaire to parents. They were asked to indicate the elements they had integrated in last evening’s bedtime ritual.

Fig. 2: Elements of bedtime rituals

Figure 2 shows the quantitative distribution of the different elements: In nearly 90% of the families a goodbye kiss was part of the ritual. Also very important is the talking about the day. Roughly 50% of the families say they did this the last evening. Story telling, of course, is of importance

226

Christoph Morgenthaler

for children of this age too. If we add the respective frequencies, in more than 50% of the families a story is read or told. It is rather amazing to see that almost 37% of the families report a prayer was also part of last evening’s bedtime ritual.13 3.1.4 The Additional Value of a Combination of Qualitative and Quantitative Data What is the contribution of combining qualitative and quantitative data to a better understanding of bedtime rituals? Obviously, there are many possibilities to combine the approaches with one another. Early in the debate about mixed methods Greene/Caracelli/Graham (1989) have differentiated the following strategies of combining the approaches: – Triangulation: By combining the methods the validity of the results is enhanced. – Complementary combination: The two approaches are complementary. One compensates the weaknesses of its counterpart. – Initiation: Different qualitative and quantitative methods and research results are combined in such a way as to show antinomies and discrepancies in the field. Thereby new perspectives and research questions can be discovered and research activities initiated. – Development: The different research strategies are allocated to one another in changing sequential patterns. Qualitative and quantitative phases follow each other in the research process in well-founded ways. – Expansion: Different methodologies are applied in a research project in order to add scope and breadth to the analysis. We can identify these forms of combining qualitative and quantitative approaches in the research project about bedtime rituals as well. The combination of the approaches leads – to take but one example – to a double expansion of perspectives: The addition of quantitative data opens up possibilities to broaden a qualitatively differentiated picture of one single bedtime ritual in the direction of better empirical support of such specific impressions. On the other hand, the meagre figures about the frequency of the elements of the ritual are combined with sensually satiated accounts and contextually identifiable scenes of particular bedtime rituals. Thereby, the respective

13 In families of the German-speaking part of Switzerland one particular evening song is very popular and singing this song is often interpreted as praying. This song – “I ghöre es Glöggli“ – was sung in 25% of the families. Taking this in account, the number of families praying in the evening becomes even more important. The percentages, though, cannot be added because double references are possible.

Approaches to Experience

227

weaknesses of the qualitative and quantitative data are compensated and the validity of the results enhanced. Contrasting forms of combination are possible too. Greene, Caracelli & Graham (1989) speak about “initiation”. Discrepancies between qualitative and quantitative data are focused. Let me give an example: In the section of the questionnaire about the elements of the bedtime ritual an open question was included. Parents could add elements which were part of last evening’s bedtime ritual but were not on the list of elements in the questionnaire. The number of elements added was very restricted. This stays in contrast to our qualitative analysis where we found more than eighty different elements of such rituals (in the questionnaire only 8 items were included). Parents do much more with their children than they report when asked in the survey. Questions arise out of these contradictory results: Why is this so? Are there flaws in the research strategy leading to these discrepancies? Or can we draw conclusions from these very discrepancies which open new perspectives on the bedtime rituals? It could be that a well known dilemma of ritual studies is appearing at this point: People attending rituals do much more than they can realise rationally and reflexively. The subjective perspective on what is happening in the family ritual is not the same as the mimetic interactive “staging” of these rituals. There are far-reaching theoretical questions connected with this observation of discrepancies between the “objective” and “subjective” level of ritual enactments.14 The example clarifies as well that the qualitative and quantitative approaches to the bedtime rituals are mediated in different ways. It cannot be inferred, though, in my opinion that the qualitative data are “per se” nearer to the “phenomenon” bedtime ritual than the quantitative data. Instead, the combination of the approaches opens perspectives on the bedtime rituals otherwise not possible. This shall be specified in two ways: Initially we want to assess the specific contribution of qualitative data, then the specific assets of quantitative data, for a better understanding of “phenomena” in a mixed model design. 3.2 The Additional Value of Qualitative Methods How can qualitative data help to sharpen the picture of bedtime rituals drawn on the basis of quantitative methods alone? Let us deal with this question by looking at prayers as part of bedtime rituals. 37% of the parents said a prayer with their children during last evening’s ritual, according to the data of the survey. This is in itself an interesting result, which can be 14 The discrepancies appearing at other points of the research beg the question whether an intentionalistic or a mimetic understanding of rituals is more appropriate for the interpretation and integration of the empirical material.

228

Christoph Morgenthaler

compared with findings of other empirical studies.15 From these results we can conclude that a surprising number of parents still say prayers with their children aged 6 to 8 in the evening. But we know very little about the prayers they use and the actual performance of the prayers. A qualitative approach to the field is of great interest at this point. This is obvious. We cannot only infer from our case studies how exactly families pray in the evening. Comparing the different families, we can also develop a typology of evening prayers. 3.2.1 Interactional Studies Studying the interactions in the families, we can analyse how parents and children involved in evening prayers develop step by step the interactive patterns of praying. To take but one example: The Inderbitzins cherish the following prayer ritual, repeated evening after evening in similar ways. Firstly, the family decides who will lead the prayer. The person in charge – usually mother or father – introduces the prayer saying some words of thanks. Then, with the phrase “please, look after …” an intercession is introduced: Bewahr du bitte o ds16 – Dädi dr Dädi, dr Dädi ds Mami ds Mammi Mammi Sandra Sandra Nino Nino, Piero., Nino: dr chli Piero18 Mutter: dr chli Piero Nino: Renate Mutter: Renate

Mutter: Nino: 17 Piero: Mutter: Piero: Mutter: Nino: Piero: Mutter: Nino: Mutter:

15 According to a well-known representative sociological study about the religious landscape of Switzerland – “Jeder ein Sonderfall?” – a majority of the Swiss population still says prayers. Over 50% of the parents say prayers with their children (below 12 years) too (Dubach/Campiche: 1993, 86ff.). 24% of the families pray with their children in the evening, 23% in the evening, at table or in the family, and 7% at other occasions and in other constellations. 16 Translated from dialect: “Please look after [...].” 17 Nino is the 3-year old brother of Piero. Names were altered. 18 Dialect: „tiny Piero.” To understand these intercessions the following is important: Inspired by the camera used for the recording of the bedtime ritual, the family retrieved old video recordings in which Piero can be seen when he was much younger. For this little Piero too, prayers should be said, says the little brother of Piero.

Approaches to Experience

229

Piero: Kerner Walli Nino: Kerner Walli Mutter: d Kerner Walli (more names are added and repeated) Vater: Nino: Mutter: Nino: Mutter: Vater: Nino: Mutter: Nino: Mutter: Piero: Mutter: Vater: Mutter: Nino:

Nonna19 Nonna d Nonna (2 Sek) dr Nonno Nonno Bänze20 E. E. T.B. dr anger o z Italie dr T.B.21 wäh (Throws away something) hei mer aui?22 Wali ds Wali heimer gloub gha he bim Grosi obe23 mine Vater24 … Vater nei Vati nid25

The prayer is concluded again with a few words, whereby, the evening when this clip was filmed, the prayer ended with laughter and commotion. The interactional rules steering this intercession, and competently mastered by the children (even the 3-year old Nino!), stipulate that both parents and children can name persons which are repeated chorally by the other family members and that all persons relevant for the family can be enumerated in the prayer – there were 28 people named in that evening’s intercession! 3.2.2 Analysis of Function and Content The interviews give additional insight into the development of these prayer practices: The family had to move because the father got a better job in a new place. This was very difficult for the 5-year old Piero. He developed physical symptoms in his crisis, was anxious and agitated. The psychologist they consulted (and not the priest!) discovered with the parents that in their respective families of origin such intercessory prayers were already known. She suggested integrating these elements in the evening prayer. This allows 19 The maternal grand-parents returned to Italy when the mother of Piero and Nino was an adult. 20 Dialect: sheep (from the paternal grandfather’s side) 21 Dialect: “The other too, in Italy, T.B.” 22 Dialect: “Do we have all of them?” 23 Dialect: “W., I think, we have had him with Grandma.” 24 Dialect: “My father” 25 Dialect: “No, father not.”

230

Christoph Morgenthaler

interesting conclusions concerning the functions of this part of the ritual for the family: – Identity and affiliation to an intergenerational family unit are affirmed every evening – Prayer helps coping with fears of separation – Religious ideas, values and practices are transmitted with an intergenerational integrative effect – Repetition of the ritual and the religious competence of children in intergenerational continuity through the mimesis of a ritual form. In addition to that, the interviews allow insights into the subjective experience of these prayers. We hear, as an example, the father saying: Sometimes there are situations where I’m almost, how shall I say it, where I’m just a bit homesick or something’s on my mind, where it’s just not going so well, then I get goose bumps or almost have to cry because these kids are really already so far along in their love for these people.

If we describe such situations in detail we can not only gain deeper insight into the prayer practices of families, but also into their functions. Qualitative methods are especially appropriate to elucidate developmental issues as highlighted by a qualitatively oriented developmental psychology: Unstructured research techniques fit “the plasticity of the development of children, the complex, fragile and elusive processes of the formation of the personality of a child”26 (Mey: 2003, 712). The content and particularly the dynamic of these processes can be apprehended in their full complexity, and procedural outtakes of the reproduction and construction of social reality can be uncovered. 3.2.3 Comparative Casuistry, Typing and the Development of Hypotheses By comparisons of families, a type of “comparative casuistry”, a typology of prayers in families can be developed. This typology, briefly sketched, operates on three dimensions: Mode (traditional vs. elaborated), frequency (always, occasionally, never or no more) and people involved (several persons together, one person alone). These types can be found by the systematisation of single cases documented in the qualitative data.

26 Translated from German.

Approaches to Experience

231

Traditional Prayer Elaborated Prayer Shared/collective Individual Shared/collective Individual Always Type 1 Type 2 Type 3 Type 4 Occasionally Type 5 Type 6 Type 7 Type 8 Never Type 9 Type 10 Type 11 Type 12 No more Type 13 Table 1: Typology of prayers in families

This typology shows an amazing richness of forms of the prayer practices in families. The reality is even more complex since more than one of these types can be practised in a family alongside one another (e.g. the individual prayer of parents and the shared prayer with children). The most interesting dimension of this typology is the mode of prayer: The prayer in family Inderbitzin is an example of the elaborated mode of shared prayer with children. This type of prayer is characterised by the following attributes: The parents seek the consent of the children to pray (“Do we say a prayer?”, “Who wants to lead the prayer?”, “What do we pray?”); the prayer comprises open and closed parts; the closed parts vary types of traditional liturgical forms of prayer (“We thank you for …”, “We ask you for …”, “Please, look after …”) and traditional ritual elements (e.g. sign of the cross); the closed parts are (mostly) guided by the parent who brings the children to bed, open parts are co-constructed by parents and children; the parents adapt themselves to the modes of thinking of their children, give room for the wishes, imaginations and the thoughts of the children; prayers leave, to a certain degree, space for resistance from the side of children which is accepted by the parents; the ritual character of the prayer is preserved in spite of its variability (predictable place, time, roles, forms, regularity). From this type of elaborate prayer, a more traditional form of prayer with the following characteristics can be distinguished: fixed form in verses (e.g. “Now I lay me down to sleep ...”), traditional prayer position (folded hands, closed eyes), strong communal commitment for the mimesis of this form; little space for individual reactions; high degree of routinisation and reciprocal interactive coordination. There are obvious advantages of such a qualitative procedure in research: compared with a purely quantitative approach this way of analysing the qualitative data can be interpreted as a type of “liturgical ethnography”27 opening up ways to develop a well-differentiated typology of family prayers and specific prayer practices showing the emotional content and the 27 Compare the contribution of A. Bieler in this volume, p. 39–59.

232

Christoph Morgenthaler

colourful details of these family prayers, hidden behind the bare numbers of statistics. In addition, qualitative studies can be made fruitful also for the development of hypotheses. Typifying the case material, we can also analyse the conditions under which families develop an elaborated form of prayer. The following can be named: Religiosity is of central importance for at least one of the two parents in these families; the other parent does not thwart or undermine this prayer practice; religious issues are part of the explicit family discourse; parents have developed a common system of religious convictions and constructs; there is a reflected intergenerational component of the prayer practices; the prayer practices are supported in the ecosystem of the family (e.g. in a children’s service); they were developed and adapted to the developmental needs and capacities of the children; the parents practice a democratic and empathetic educational style. Let us add: analyses such as these and the subsequent development of hypotheses are of importance for the development of supportive programmes for religious education in families with children.28 3.3 The Additional Value of Quantitative Methods A few words were already said with regard to the insights a quantitative approach may add to a qualitative analysis: whereas the qualitative methods add colour, shape, contextual precision to quantitatively gained data, the quantitative approaches put the qualitatively gained insights on a broader basis and add statistically reflected support and comparability of results. This shall be shown with regard to two possibilities of a quantitative “expansion” of qualitative data. 3.3.1 Contextualisation and the Analysis of Causality By way of a verifiable relation of qualitative to quantitative data, two interesting expansions are opened up: On one hand, the single cases we have studied can be located in the social space of society and contextualised in a generalised way. The types of bedtime rituals we have found can, for example, be associated with social milieus which could be identified using cluster-analysis of the quantitative data.29 The single elements of the bedtime rituals can also be contextualised. The case studies show, to take another example, the great importance of storytelling – and story-reading in particular – in families with children aged 6 to 8. This qualitative finding can be corroborated with quantitative data of the survey: Story-reading and -telling is – as data from more than 1300 families show – indeed an impor28 Cf. with regard to the importance of prayers in families also: Morgenthaler (2005). 29 This statistical analysis of the data is still in progress. Results will be presented in further publications.

Approaches to Experience

233

tant part of the bedtime rituals for children in this age group. Questions arising from these quantitative findings can be added: Do the reading and story-telling habits change in the families depending on the age of children? Indeed, eight-year old children read significantly more books on their own than the six-year old children. Do parents tell as many stories to girls as to boys? Yes. This holds true for six-year old children. Do boys read as much as girls at the age of eight? No: girls at the age of 8 read significantly more books on their own than boys. Questions such as these can only be answered if quantitative data can be integrated into the interpretation of qualitative data. Although our quantitative survey was mainly exploratory in character, we can also make assumptions with regard to causal relations. In the case just mentioned age and gender seem to be structural parameters determining what is happening during a bedtime ritual. 3.3.2 Comparative Extensions The connections established between qualitative and quantitative data in our research about bedtime rituals help to put our qualitative studies in a logical relation to the quantitative analyses. This is also possible within the context of the other studies of the whole research project about family rituals. We have conducted another survey alongside the one already mentioned. Families with children at the age of 10–12 were involved. In this survey other family rituals besides Christmas, baptism and bedtime rituals were studied. The data of this survey can also be connected to the data already mentioned. We have asked parents in the first survey, to give just another example, how they would estimate the strength of the transmission of the bedtime ritual from one generation to the next. The vast majority of the parents said the bedtime ritual they practice with their children would not be very different from the one in their families of origin. This finding can now be compared with data from our second survey30 where we asked parents a similar question concerning the intergenerational transmission of other family rituals (evening meals, weekends, birthdays, family reunions and again Christmas, cf. Fig. 3). “Continuity-leader” among the family rituals is without doubt Christmas.

30 In this survey more than 700 schoolchildren at the age of 12–13 and their parents were asked questions concerning the family rituals and their well-being.

234

Christoph Morgenthaler

Fig. 3: Intergenerational tradition of rituals

Nearly 70% of the families answer they would celebrate Christmas in their families in a way very similar as it was celebrated in their families of origin. Intergenerational continuity is also noticed with regard to evening meals and family re-unions, whereas birthday and weekend rituals are apprehended as rather or very different from the respective rituals in the families of origin. We cannot directly compare the results, though, because we have asked the parents in a slightly different way in the two surveys. In spite of this limitation, these results widen the picture of family rituals gained by qualitative methods. The account of some of the results of our empirical research has to be finished at this point. I would like to return to the fundamental theoreticalscientific questions with which we have started. Can we draw some conclusions for an object-oriented methodology in empirical theology from this demonstration of the interrelatedness of the quantitative and the qualitative approach?

4. Phenomenology, Quantitative and Qualitative Research With a reflective, object- and goal-oriented combination of qualitative and quantitative methods new avenues of empirical research are opened. This can also become important for empirical theology. In empirical research on

Approaches to Experience

235

religious practice, the two approaches are not only frequently used without any relation to one another, but they are also quite often profiled against each other.31 This is not to the benefit of a well-positioned empiricaltheological research. The principle of over-summation, well-known in systemic thinking and Gestalt-psychology, holds true also with regard to mixed methods: the combination of the two methods is more than a mere addition of their methodical steps and principles. A “parallel mixed model study” is developing according to its own logic and opens up a multi-dimensional and multi-faceted picture of a research object and new perspectives. This is of a certain importance for a methodological debate leading beyond the usual frontiers in empirical theology. Alongside qualitative and quantitative approaches mixed model designs could deploy an important potential for research about religious practice. Of special interest here is a concluding argument concerning the combination of methods. Creswell et al. (2003) speak of the transformative power of such a combination. Mixed model designs “are transformative in that they offer opportunities for reconfiguring the dialog across ideological differences and, thus, have the potential to restructure the evaluation context […]” (ibid., 222). Qualitative and quantitative approaches deploy an “otherness” of transformative power with regard to each other. This can well be demonstrated in empirical research about religion. According to Knoblauch, qualitative methods are of particular importance for the empirical analysis of present day religion: the quicker today’s religion is changing and the more diverse its appearances are becoming, the more difficult it gets to seize its essence with pre-standardised questions (Knoblauch: 2003, 11).

This is an illuminating observation. It seems to me, however, that Ethnography of religion in one’s own society which essentially demands qualitative approaches as well, is not merely an alternative paradigm to quantitative research in today’s religion. Following Creswell et al. (2003) one could also argue that qualitative research helps to transform the traditional sociological analysis of religious phenomena in our society: it is opening up new perspectives and patterns of religion not to be grasped otherwise. This does not entail devaluation of quantitative approaches. On the other hand, we 31 At the conference of the ISERT (International Society of Empirical Research in Theology) 2006 in Bangor, qualitative and quantitative methodologies were the main topic of discussion. Possibilities of combining the approaches were almost completely left aside. Van der Ven (1998) is as well not very clear in his combination of qualitative and quantitative methods. He starts with the hypothesis of the complementarity of the two approaches and gives a short demonstration how this could be done. But he does not discuss other types of combination nor does he refer to the model of mixed methodologies as an autonomous type of research design.

236

Christoph Morgenthaler

could also ask whether quantitative methods could have a transformative power for qualitative approaches in research on religion. In surveying the religious landscape of Western European societies with qualitative methods, new patterns of religion could be discovered which in turn could be analysed again on a broader basis with quantitative methods. Thereby, what seems to be unique and new from a qualitative perspective could be demonstrated to be facets of an emerging new normality of religious practice in Western European societies. Thus, quantitative methods would have transformative power with regard to qualitative methods too. Therefore, the model of mixed methods is more than the mere addition of different methods and perspectives. From this model a new third way emerges, which leads beyond the frontiers of both qualitative and quantitative approaches. In this combination social scientific methods could become partners or counter-parts of phenomenological empirical research in new ways.32 This will now be the last question to be discussed: Could the mixed model design be brought in a fruitful relation to a phenomenologically inspired disclosure of reality? Of course, it is beyond the scope of the present discussion to give anything approaching an adequate summary of the importance and the potential of a phenomenologically trained and reflected perception for the development of a broadly based empirical theology.33 There is no doubt that phenomenological research is an autonomous approach to life-worlds and to religious practice with its own potential to disclose and elucidate experience. There seems to also exist a “natural” affinity between a phenomenological starting point and qualitative methods. Therefore, phenomenological principles are at least relevant in relation to the qualitative part of a mixed model design. They can be important for the qualitative analysis, to take this example again, of bedtime rituals as they are “imparted” on the video recordings. They help to perceive in an open and unbiased way which unexpected aspects of the life-world of parents and children can be discovered, and they bring into focus as well the limits of what can be discerned, the boundaries of perception, that which stays opaque, cryptic and enigmatic to the empirical gaze. Of even more importance seems another function of a phenomenologically erudite position of cognisance in the field of empirical theology. Could this position not be the fundamental starting point and horizon and an integrative element in a multifaceted process of discovering the hitherto unknown? Qualitative and qualitative methods would be elements of this 32 Cf. Morgenthaler (2004) with regard to the normative and theological implications of choosing a specific set of methods and methodologies. 33 Cf. in particular Heimbrock (2005), Failing/Heimbrock (1998).

Approaches to Experience

237

process used according to the research objects and the goals of research. I attempt to illustrate this in the following figure:

Fig. 4: The combination of quantitative, qualitative and phenomenological research in empirical theology

In this empirical-theological coalition of different approaches qualitative and quantitative methods would have their specific place and importance in the joint venture of a deeper understanding of religious phenomena in our societies, but would be used as well in mixed model designs of empirical research. A phenomenological stance would act as a kind of “bracket”. Phenomenology not only inspires a unique perspective on life worlds and phenomena of religious practice. Phenomenology also shows the embedding of research in the context of the life world. Research is always embodied, interactively staged and socially mediated and is in need of a reflective stance of perception ever transcending restrictions of perspectives. And phenomenology, on account of its manner of perception, points to the life-

238

Christoph Morgenthaler

world as the all-encompassing horizon of empirical-theological understanding which asserts itself again and again beyond the bounds of methodically controlled claims. This will be put more precisely in the following five points mentioning some instances of phenomenological reflection which are important for empirical theology: 1. Life-World as the Horizon of Scientific Perception: Through the complementary and contrasting mapping of different methods and approaches “mixed model designs” keep alive a process of perceiving experience which can neither be stopped at the qualitative nor the quantitative end of conceptualisations of reality. Qualitatively gained insights are extended by quantitative data, quantitative data combined with detailed qualitative insights into cases and situations. The horizon of perception is thus widened beyond what is already known in the direction of a new quality of perception. We have not yet given a proper name to this additional quality of insight gained by the combination of quantitative and qualitative data. It is a characteristic of “mixed model designs”, that they count on this quality without naming it. The category of life-word, as it has been developed from the phenomenological perspective, spans at this point an adequate frame of reference. 2. Reflection of the Process of Perception: Connected with methods are methodologies. “Parallel mixed models” combine not only methods but provoke a specific type of methodological reflection. Specific methodologies imply specific reflective perspectives onto the qualitative or quantitative methods used. “Mixed methods” provoke by way of the mixed methodologies connected with them methodological reflections on a higher level of abstraction. Therefore, self-reflection of perception is passed on to the different levels of this type of research. This, in turn, is very near to a phenomenological position. 3. Foreground and Background: Qualitative methods bring to the front, what is backstage for a quantitative approach: singularity, divergence, alteration. But the opposite is also true: quantitative methods make visible what eludes the qualitative view on reality: the regularity of social phenomena, the pervasive power of social structures, the social preconditioning of individual developments. 4. Embodied Perception: Jick (1979) highlights in an early publication concerning the triangulation of methods the importance and the challenging character of the integration

Approaches to Experience

239

of qualitative and quantitative research strategies. The triangulating researcher – “builder, and creator, piecing together many pieces of a complex puzzle into a coherent whole” (ibid., 608) – has to look out for meaningful patterns in the results of mixed model studies. This is a difficult task and there are no fixed methodical rules to do this. First-hand knowledge made available by qualitative methods is of decisive importance as a guideline for this integrative work. The researcher who seeks to integrate methods, “is likely to rely still more on a ‘feel’ of the situation. This intuition and firsthand knowledge drawn from the multiple vantage points is centrally reflected in the interpretation process” (ibid.). The field researcher has “in his bones”, what is coherent and makes sense when engaging in the task of interpretation and integration of results. It is not difficult to draw inferences from this stressing the importance of first-hand experience to a phenomenological position of perceiving, postulated by Heimbrock referring to the work of Merleau-Ponty (Heimbrock: 2005, 283). 5. Practiced Religion: Practiced religion is in its plurality the object of a phenomenologically oriented empirical theology. It can be reclaimed with good reasons also for empirical research on practiced religion integrating different empirical approaches. One last time, bedtime rituals shall serve as an example. Bedtime rituals are still a place of practiced religion in many families. Prayers show this most clearly. But religiosity, such as it can be retraced looking at bedtime rituals, is not exhausted by referring to these explicit prayer practices alone. Besides other explicitly religious elements they breathe also a quality of experience which was aimed at in a series of questions posed by Heimbrock. Bedtime rituals also show: […] how and where people feel deeply at home; how and where they experience fascination; when and in what ways they experience deep yearnings to belong to something and/or the desire to express freely their sense of belonging; and how and when they feel a sense of estrangement. (Heimbrock: 2005, 287f)

Research in religion which wants to do justice to the many shades and forms of religious experience has to rely on a wide variety and reflective combination of tools and perspectives. “Mixed model designs” open up possibilities to be brought into an interesting and exciting relationship to phenomenology. What has been mentioned here certainly has to be made more explicit and that point of inquiry which has so far been only vaguely depicted will have to be more precisely adumbrated in further discussions. Qualitative, quanti-

240

Christoph Morgenthaler

tative and phenomenological approaches to experience are contrary in many ways. But there are possibilities of combination to be realised in specific research designs showing also their complementary potential. This would surely not be detrimental to empirical theology. Empirical Theology would rather thereby gain in disclosive power in a perceptual process in which the respective methodical counterpart can serve as imposition and inspiration.

References BORTZ, J./DÖRING, N. (21995), Forschungsmethoden und Evaluation. Für Sozialwissenschaftler, Berlin. CRESWELL, JOHN W. ET AL. (22003), Advanced Mixed Methods Research Designs, in: A. Tashakkori/ C. Teddlie (ed.), Handbook of Mixed Methods in Social & Behavioral Research, Thousand Oaks, CA, 209–240. DUBACH, A./CAMPICHE, R.J. (ed.) (1993), Jede(r) ein Sonderfall? Religion in der Schweiz. Ergebnisse einer Repräsentativbefragung, Zürich/Basel. FAILING, W.-E./HEIMBROCK, H-G. (1998), Gelebte Religion wahrnehmen. Lebenswelt – Alltagskultur – Religionspraxis, Stuttgart. FIESE, B.H./TOMCHO, T.J./DOUGLAS, M. ET AL. (2002), A Review of 50 Years of Research on Naturally Occurring Family Routines and Rituals. Cause for Celebration?, in: Journal of Family Psychology 16, 381–390. GREENE, J.F./CARACELLI, V./GRAHAM, W.F. (1989), Toward a Conceptual Framework for Mixedmethod Evaluation Designs, in: Educational Evaluation and Policy Analysis 11, 255–275. HAUENSTEIN, H.U. (2002), Auf den Spuren des Gebets. Methoden und Ergebnisse der empirischen Gebetsforschung, Heidelberg. HEIMBROCK, H.-G. (2005), From Data to Theory: Elements of Methodology in Empirical Phenomenological Research in Practical Theology, in: International Journal of Practical Theology 9, Berlin/New York, 273–299. JICK, T.D. (1979), Mixing Qualitative and Quantitative Methods: Triangulation in Action, in: Administrative Science Quarterly 24, 602–611. JÜTTEMANN, G. (ed.) (1990), Komparative Kasuistik, Heidelberg. KELLE, U./KLUGE, S. (1999), Vom Einzelfall zum Typus. Fallvergleich und Fallkontrastierung in der qualitativen Sozialforschung, Opladen. KNOBLAUCH, H. (2003), Qualitative Religionsforschung. Religionsethnographie in der eigenen Gesellschaft, Paderborn et al. MAYRING, P. (1983), Qualitative Inhaltsanalysen. Grundfragen und Techniken, Weinheim. MAYRING, P. (2001), Kombination und Integration qualitativer und quantitativer Analyse, in: Forum Qualitative Sozialforschung/Forum: Qualitative Social Research 2. MAYRING, P. (52002), Einführung in die qualitative Sozialforschung. Eine Anleitung zu qualitativem Denken, Weinheim/Basel. MEY, G. (32003), Qualitative Forschung: Überlegungen zur Forschungsprogrammatik und Vorschläge zur Forschungspraxis im Themenfeld der frühen Kindheit, in: H. Keller (ed.), Handbuch der Kleinkindforschung, Bern, 709–750. MORGENTHALER, C. (2005), “... habe ich das halt für mich alleine gebetet” (Mirjam 6-jährig). Zur Ko-Konstruktion von Gebeten in Abendritualen, in: A. Biesinger/H.-J. Kerner/G. Klosinski, G./F. Schweitzer (ed.), Brauchen Kinder Religion? Neue Erkenntnisse – Praktische Perspektiven, Weinheim/Basel, 108–121.

Approaches to Experience

241

MORGENTHALER, C. (2005), Rituale. Warum und wie sie Familien stärken, in: Stiftung Gottesbeziehung in Familien. Impulse und Perspektiven, Tübingen. MORGENTHALER, C. (2004), Normative Implications of Designing Empirical Research. Family Research and Reflective Theological Normativity, in: J.A. van der Ven/M. Scherer-Rath (ed.), Normativity and Empirical Research in Theology, Leiden/Boston, 179–198. MORSE, J. (22003), Principles of Mixed Methods and Multimethod Research Design, in: Handbook of Mixed Methods in Social & Behavioral Research, Thousand Oaks, CA. TASHAKKORI, A./TEDDLIE, C. (ed.) (1998), Mixed Methodology. Combining Qualitative and Quantitative Approaches, Thousand Oaks, CA. TASHAKKORI, A./TEDDLIE, C. (ed.) (22003), Handbook of Mixed Methods in Social & Behavioral Research, Thousand Oaks, CA. VAN DER VEN, J.A. (1998), God Reinvented? A Theological Search in Texts and Tables, Leiden.

Researching That What Goes without Saying Methodological Reflections in the Context of Religious Experience CHRISTOPHER P. SCHOLTZ Goethe-University, Frankfurt/Main, Germany

In a narrow sense, research on religious experience can be conceptualized as research on experiences deriving from institutionalized religious activities, with a focus on activities beyond the everyday practice: Sunday and holiday services and rites of passage. Influenced by the sociological findings of the importance of everyday life (cf. Schütz: 1962; Berger/ Luckmann: 1966) the concept of research on religious experience was widened. Today research on religious experience that focuses everyday life can be considered as well established. Based on the theoretical insight into the connection between religion and everyday life (cf. H. Luther: 1992), two research focuses are possible: To analyze how the everyday practice of a traditionally orientated religious life is formed under the influence of our current social, economical and cultural situation. Or to concentrate on phenomena of popular culture inquiring the religious dimension of these apparent secular products and everyday activities (Forbes/Mahan: 2000), working for example with popular music (Schwarze: 1997), cinema (Stone: 2000) or computer games (Scholtz: 2005a). Both types of research are based on a wider notion of religion that contains two broadenings. First, the integration of a functional view on religion (Luhmann: 2000) implies that the extraordinary is not limited to traditional religious activities: Example given the analysis of popular culture very often comes – with reference to the work of M. Csikszentmihalyi (1990) – to the conclusion that certain activities can provide flow experiences, and already for A.H. Maslow, understanding peak-experiences as religious was a common interpretation: Practically everything that happens in the peak-experiences […] could be listed under the headings of religious happenings, or indeed have been in the past considered to be only religious experiences. (Maslow: 1964, 59)

Second, the insight that religion is not only about the extraordinary. Religion structures life, not only on a large scale – life periods are defined by rites of passage (van Gennep: 1972) – but also the course of events during a

244

Christopher P. Scholtz

normal day can be structured by rituals like prayers. Religion can make everyday life meaningful and is able to establish a frame of reference and norms. For a lot of people religion is an unquestioned part of their everyday life and one possible effect of religion is that certain aspects of everyday life are not questioned. On the other hand, there is no doubt that the way people form and experience their religious practices is influenced by what is taken for granted. This facet of religion – to be one of the forces that make certain elements of everyday life appear as obvious and vice versa to be influenced by what goes without saying – needs to be examined precisely, because it implies some methodological challenges for research on religious experience. The most interesting issue is the sharp contrast of the immediate experience of obviousness and the mediacy of all research activities on obviousness. To approach these methodological challenges this paper starts with a clarification of the phenomenon of obviousness/self-evidence and its theological importance. Then it presents some characteristic features of what goes without saying, which contradict the attitude of thinking that the obvious would be simple structured and needed no further reflection. This leads to some methodological challenges that we have to face when we research the self-evident. Finally, participant observation in its customary and in a specific form is presented as one methodological approach for researching what goes without saying.

1. Religious Experience and that What Goes without Saying It is a discussion on its own if the phenomenon of life-aspects appearing as self-evident should be considered as a potential religious experience. But there is no need to discuss this here as there is another and undebatable connection between religion and that what goes without saying. As mentioned above religion is not only about the extraordinary, it also influences everyday life and what is considered as normal. Religion can help to orientate oneself and it plays an important role for the formation of identity. A religious practice can be an important factor for assurance and a meaningful life and can cause to feel at home. Habits and routines induced by religious traditions may even lead to serious disputes, for example the argument in several European countries on the significance of the head scarf. Furthermore, there is one important link between that what goes without saying and religious experiences understood as peak-experiences. The selfevident of everyday life is the background for peak experiences: in some respect ‘normality’ is the other side of the same coin, ‘normality’ and peak

Researching That What Goes without Saying

245

experience belong together. To label something as extraordinary always refers to something ordinary. Therefore peak experiences can only be understood in reference to everyday life and its self-evident and obvious aspects. In addition, sharing the same perspective on life and its self-evident aspects creates a community, and Christian faith itself is full of aspects that go without saying (Moxter: 2000, 298). Hence it can be necessary for research on certain aspects of religious experience to consider the selfevident, unquestioned and in some respect also the forgotten. This necessity and the implied methodological challenges become clearer when we take a closer look at that what goes without saying. Such a closer look reveals that this matter is not as simple or even trivial as it seems to be in a common sense understanding. On the contrary: the harder we try to analyze it, the more complex it turns out to be. This complexity starts with the nomenclature: The reflection on that what goes without saying and on its significance for everyday life plays an important role in the phenomenology of E. Husserl. He is using the German term “Selbstverständlichkeit”, which shimmers in its significance. By using this term Husserl refers implicitly to a concept that has no direct counterpart in the English language. To convey the multiple sense of “Selbstverständlichkeit” in English, we have to use different terms: That what goes without saying, obviousness, matter-of-factness, implicitness, a foregone conclusion, matter of course, the self-evident, the usual, that what is taken for granted etc. For his translation of Husserl’s The Crisis of European Sciences and Transcendental Philosophy D. Carr (1970) decided to translate the noun “Selbstverständlichkeit” and the adjective/adverb “selbstverständlich” with changing terms. Choosing the translation that fits best in the context facilitates the reading, but it hides the constitutive ambiguity of “Selbstverständlichkeit”.1 In the context of our argument it seems necessary not to vary the translation, but to stick to one form that serves as a substitute and refers to the significance of the notion “Selbstverständlichkeit” in German philosophical language. To this effect the terms “self-evidence” and “selfevident” will be used and stand for more than their usual meaning, representing the whole world field of “Selbstverständlichkeit”. Before we discuss the peculiar characteristic of the self-evident and its methodological implications, it is helpful to give some concretizations for a theological research interest in the self-evident. First of all it is clear that a theological research project normally will not concentrate exclusively on the self-evident. The most common situation is that in the process of studying one object of research it turns out that some aspects of self-evidence 1 Carr reflects the general problem in the introductory part of the volume (1970, XXII) without explicitly referring to the translation of “Selbstverständlichkeit”.

246

Christopher P. Scholtz

have to be taken into consideration: Usually a research project is not set up to explorer self-evidences, but the identification of relevant self-evidences is a first result of research work. The focus of this interest can be on individual or on collective self-evidences: very often a study explores the self-evidences of some individuals to become able to identify collective self-evidences. There are two types of settings, which demand research on selfevidences. On the one side we have studies on religious traditions and practices situated in a foreign culture or in a different social context. In these cases the task is to identify the self-evidences, describe them and compare them with the familiar system of reference. On the other hand we have research in a familiar, but changing cultural setting. Here the task is to describe the modifications of the self-evidences and to develop hypotheses concerning the consequences of these alterations. Let me present an example from my own research field, which is an illustration for the second type, a research in a familiar, but changing cultural setting. It is unquestionable that the technological progress changes our way of life and our culture, especially when we take a long term perspective on technologies that for a large number of people become part of their everyday life. The issue of changing self-evidences is not only relevant for the classical approach of theological ethics, to ask if or how we should use a new technology, but even more for the question how a new technology can influence our situation of being in the world. How do the emerging possibilities, the new daily routines and the altered forms of social interaction change our point of view, our emotions and empathy and our self-concept. For all these aspects the structure of the self-evident – the unquestioned and unnoticed – is constitutive, because the alterations come to pass very slowly and usually remain overlooked. Of course many aspects of technologically induced changes in the world view are only of minor theological interest. But those technical developments that are linked to life can be highly relevant for religion. The currently most important technologies for our notion of life are genetics (Dinter: 2004) and robotics (Scholtz: 2005b; 2006). Constantly referring to the growing possibilities to manipulate or even create life or a daily interaction with a machine equipped with a biological shape, mobility, social interactivity and simulated needs and emotions not only fosters ideas of an everlasting, technologically based life form, but can also change one of the most influential self-evidences: our notion of life. An alteration of this concept has effects on political, social and ethical issues. Just to mention two of them: How does a society limit scientific research, example given the work with stem cells, or how does society organize its welfare system, for example how are sick, elderly or handicapped people treated. And the notion of life, which itself can be a religious important subject (Heimbrock:

Researching That What Goes without Saying

247

2003), influences other religiously influential concepts like the notion of creation or even the understanding of the Creator. In this sense research on self-evidences is no research on religious experience in a narrow sense, but it is research on contexts that can have far reaching consequences for religious practice and experience. The first aim of a theological research project in this realm is to identify the concerned self-evidences and to describe the ongoing and possible future changes. The second aim is to hypothesize on consequences resulting from the changing self-evidences, laying emphasis on the religious dimension. The third aim is to evolve strategies to influence both the change process of the selfevidences and the consequence of the changing self-evidences on human beings, society and religious life. As the influence of self-evidences results from the fact that they are overlooked (vide infra), it is often already an influential intervention to point out the self-evidence and its influence. When the self-evidence becomes an object of reflection and discussion, its influence is easier to control. This shows that research on self-evidences has a normative dimension: it is not only describing, but it is a tool that can be used to improve the living situation of human beings.

2. The Unusual about the Usual One could ask: “But why is it necessary to talk so much about research on the self-evident? The self-evident is evident, so there is no need for a specific research effort!” To answer this question I use the phrase of the “unusual about the usual”. On the one hand, it is constitutive for the selfevident that it needs no explanation, just like everyday actions usually need neither explanation nor reflection. On the other hand, the self-evident turns out to be a complex and opaque phenomenon the moment one starts to reflect on it or even tries to explain it. The phrase of the unusual about the usual refers to the fact that this combination of evidence and opacity is not an element of the common sense understanding of the self-evident. The evidence results from the fact that it is not necessary for the coping with everyday life to question the usual routines. On the contrary, it often helps to cope with everyday life, not to question it or to reflect on it. Most of our everyday jobs simply need to be done and we never would be able to handle them if we started reflecting about them. But we are only provided with evidence on the pragmatic level. The fact that our everyday actions usually seem to be the most natural thing does not mean that we are able to understand them in a reflective way. We realize that the moment we are asked to explain. Dealing with self-evidences is dealing with something

248

Christopher P. Scholtz

“that we know when no one asks us, but no longer know when we are supposed to give an account of it” (Wittgenstein: 1958, §89). The opacity results from the fact that the self-evident in an analytical perspective turns out to be the not-understood (cf. Moxter: 2000, 297), as we have no reason in everyday situations to try to understand the selfevident in a reflective way. Even when we try to understand it, we face a far-reaching limitation. The self-evident is characterized by being the unnoticed (ibid., 297). When we start to reflect on the self-evident, it is no longer unnoticed and it becomes immediately something different. Figuratively speaking the self-evident always remains in our back and while analyzing it we can only look at what used to be self-evident. This partial inaccessibility is also grounded on the constitution of the self-evident as pre-reflexive, prepredicative and pre-theoretical. For research purposes we have to describe the self-evident with predicative language and relate it to theoretical concepts and this transformation inevitably causes a change. Coming back to the above-mentioned question, why it is necessary to reflect methodologically on the self-evident, we can point out that it is the complexity of the self-evident that demands a specific research effort. For Husserl (1970, 180) a researcher “lives in the paradox of having to look upon the obvious as questionable, as enigmatic” and he has to solve the task of “transforming the [...] obviousness [...] into something intelligible.” Although this complexity contrasts with the common sense understanding of the self-evident, it is vital to understand that it is not produced by the research approach; it is not something simple that is artificially changed into something complicated by an academic discussion. The complexity is hidden in everyday life, but it can easily become visible as soon as someone starts to question his daily routines and self-evidences. But usually there is neither reason nor time to do that in the midst of everyday life. And yet there is an another unusual aspect about the usual: in contrast to the common sense understanding we have to consider the usual and selfevident to be most important: On a practical level we can easily comprehend that it is impossible to understand social interaction when we are not familiar with its underlying self-evident communication standards and codes. I am picking up the famous example of a boy contracting the eyelid, which G. Ryle (1971) introduced and C. Geertz (1973) used for his work. Following Geertz an ethnographic researcher must be able to tell the difference if the boy is twitching or winking or parodying the way another boy winked. For the argument at hand it is important that this differentiation is only possible when the researcher knows the code that contracting the eyelid can be a wink. But gestures like this are only one class of self-evidences. More influential and more difficult to research are those self-evidences that cannot so

Researching That What Goes without Saying

249

easily be translated into a clear significance, in our case that contracting the eyelid as winking is a conspiratorial signal. These self-evidences are more than a clear public communication code, they are pre-verbal and prepredicative and cannot be reduced to one significance. With this structure they influence people’s attitude towards life, their actions, ethical decisions, and beliefs. This importance and some of the already mentioned peculiarities of the self-evident can be made clearer by turning to the concept of life world developed by Husserl and his successors, especially M. MerleauPonty (1966) and B. Waldenfels (1996). For Husserl life world is “an ever available source of what is taken for granted” (1970, 122).2 The self-evident is an important part of the life world. It “describes a mode of experience, which is located in the background of consciousness and of action, nearly unconscious under normal circumstances” (Lotz: 2001, 76). However not only self-evidences, but also new, surprising or irritating elements belong to the life world. Together they form “lifeworld as a particular perspective on all kinds of phenomena” (ibid., 75). The influence of the life world on the being-in-the-world of human individuals can hardly be overestimated. It supports the orientation in the world by providing the so-called orientation knowledge (cf. Moxter: 2000, 284), a pre-theoretic type of knowledge that is embedded in actions and creates a certain familiarity with the situations of everyday life. Nevertheless, those who have orientation knowledge are not necessarily able to explicate it (ibid., 285). But life world orientates not only by providing (a specific kind of) knowledge, but also by reducing complexity. It removes certain aspects of reality from view (the so called shading), which enables to act and at the same time limits this ability. This influence is, as mentioned above, based on the fact that the life world and its effects usually remain unnoticed. As this power is reduced when it is noticed (ibid., 292), it is an important task for theology to analyze critically the influence of certain self-evidences in the life-world and if necessary to intervene in favor of the human beings.

3. Methodological Challenges The self-evident forms a sharp contrast between the immediate experience and the mediacy of research. For the actors the object of research is the most natural thing, whereas the researcher in a way always remains in distance to that self-evidence, continuously in danger to mix his self-evidences 2 “What is taken for granted” is one of the translations Carr uses for “Selbstverständlichkeit”.

250

Christopher P. Scholtz

up with the actors’ self-evidences. As mentioned above, the research activities are confronted with the problem that the inevitably mediated approach of research changes the character of the researched phenomenon, the selfevident turns into something noticed and questioned. These are the challenges every research on self-evidences has to deal with and they lead to the insight that every understanding or description of self-evidences is actually only reconstruction. In face of these complications every research project has to develop its own methodological approach. There is a large variety of methods that in principle can be used for research on self-evidences. Only in relation to an actual object of research it is possible to select the most suitable methods and to develop a complete research design. But even the best research design will never succeed in describing a self-evidence completely. There are constitutive limitations for this endeavor. It is not only the already mentioned problem that a noticed self-evidence is no longer a self-evidence and that we always loose certain aspects when we describe a pre-verbal phenomenon like the self-evident with the means of verbal communication, but it is also most important that the process of understanding self-evidences never ends. The life world can be described as a thicket (Moxter: 2000, 289) and dealing with one self-evidence we constantly detect – in an iterative process (ibid., 290) – a second self-evidence, which serves as an argument for the first one. But these limitations do not fundamentally query this approach, as even a partial understanding of (changing) self-evidences and their consequences can be a very useful insight. Asking about the concrete consequences for research activities we can ask, which methods are most important for the research on the self-evident. In a common sense perspective interviews are a suitable instrument to approach self-evidences. No doubt, talking with people can facilitate the understanding of self-evidences, but one has to be aware that there are farreaching limitations for this method, especially when the self-evident is not reduced to routines and judgments. What we consider as self-evident is very often based on our bodily experience. With an understanding of the body that leaves all mechanistic notions aside (Heimbrock: 2007) we realize that it is only with and through our body that we have access to the world and to reality. The body is the reason that every perception has a certain perspective, and it is not a neutral instrument, but it coins all perceptions in an individual way. My body enables my movements in space and limits them at the same time. My view of a situation is not only influenced by the things I know, see and hear, but also by aspects like temperature and smell. My body even perceives the body of the person opposite and together they create a single whole (Merleau-Ponty: 1966, 405). And my body is important for my recollection,

Researching That What Goes without Saying

251

because the body has its own memory: simple bodily stimuli can recall complex situations and stories. This understanding even blurs the clear distinction between body and rationality: Phenomenology, since the work of Merleau-Ponty, argues that the abilities of mind and its rational objectivisations are ingredients of the structure of the body itself, belonging to its from-to-structure. (Lotz: 2001, 78)

The body is important for the constitution of the self-evident not only because it enables the perception of the world and a certain aspect of memory, but also because it is usually not a subject of reflection. Most of the time we do not consider the body and its function for the perception of the world: a smell of a place disappears when we stay for a time and get used to it. But when the smell changes we immediately become aware of it and are able to describe the differences. It is a peculiar characteristic of the body that it is most important for the way of perceiving the world and at the same time is usually no subject of reflection. Our bodily existence is one explanation why self-evidence is mostly structured as pre-predicative and pre-verbal experience that remains unconscious and can only partly be transformed into verbal communication. This limits the effectivity of all research approaches that use interviews asking the actors directly to describe their self-evidences. Asking for a description of the self-evident does not only lead to the problem that the actors can only partly answer this question. More serious is the fact that informants may provide answers that are to a large extend generated by the questions. These answers do not reproduce the selfevident, but are reactions to a reality that the questions create. The ethnomethodological notion “account” is helpful to understand this problem. Giving accounts (Honer: 1993, 66) means to explain or justify actions in front of other people. Questions about actions, which are routines in everyday life, provoke people to explain things, which usually are not necessary to explain, or are usually not a subject of reflection. By listening to such accounts the researcher gets the false impression that the considerations presented in the accounts are relevant for the self-evident of everyday life. The actors do not lie or pretend in a strict sense, on the contrary they are often eager to help the researcher and are convinced to report honestly. But they are not aware that talking about the self-evident changes its character. Only a methodological reflection leads to this insight and enables a critical assessment of such an interview strategy. I think that this problem is not only relevant for self-evident actions, but also for attitudes, world views and patterns of perception. It is hardly possible to distinguish between explanations and considerations that belong to everyday self-evidence and those evoked by the question.

252

Christopher P. Scholtz

To sum up these reflections we can state that interviews explicitly focusing on self-evidences are a research instrument with limited usefulness: they can only provide information concerning certain aspects of selfevidence and it is always unclear if the given explanations really belong to the everyday perspective. Therefore we have to look for another approach. Observations are an alternative concept for the research on self-evidences. By observing it is possible to focus on aspects that do not become visible by using interviews, example given unconscious actions or movements, as long as the situation of being under observation does not destroy the selfevidence. But observations, especially when they are set up to produce quantitative data, tend to strive for a complete description of the situation. This can be useful for certain aspects, for others it is rather obstructive. Selectivity belongs to all social activities (Hirschauer/Amann: 1997, 23): especially in the context of self-evidences the mechanism of shading is not only common, it is also very often essential for the coping with everyday life (see above). One important function of the orientation knowledge is to allow me to forget things, because it enables me to act (Moxter: 2000, 286). This insight changes the understanding of the characteristic features of a good observation. It is not useful to register as much as possible, but for the quality of a reconstruction of self-evidences it is most important to achieve an adequate selectivity, that means to have the same structures of shading like the actors. In most cases it is not possible for an outside observer to detect the structures of shading. Even when he registers everything what can be seen, he will fail to understand, which actions and objects the actor in orientation at the self-evident ignores.

4. Participant Observation and Beyond The limitations of interviews and of observations from outside suggest using participant observation for research on self-evidences. But talking about participant observation does not refer to a distinct method or a single methodological understanding, on the contrary there is a large variety of concepts and approaches. In this confusing situation one clarification is most important: Participant observation can be understood as a method or as research strategy that includes different methods (Lüders: 2004, 389). From my point of view, participant observation can be used most effectively when these two understandings are not separated, but combined (Scholtz: 2007). This is also true for research on self-evidences. Using participant observation as a method means to enter the field and have direct

Researching That What Goes without Saying

253

contact with the actors. In this sense it is a standard proceeding and it is hardly imaginable that someone would research self-evidences without making use of it. Referring to the above mentioned example, for a research on the influences of new technologies it is most natural to go and see how people interact and live with the new machines. But also as a research strategy, participant observation is most useful for approaching the self-evident. Example given, it enables the combination of interviews and observations, and such a complementary use of methods can lead to new insights. To take participant observation as a research strategy leads furthermore to a flexible proceeding, which is important, as self-evidences very often can only be identified in the course of the research process, so that the research focus has to be readjusted. But for certain research interests regarding self-evidences even the combined use of participant observation as method and as research strategy is not sufficient, and the concept of participant observation has to be enlarged in one crucial point. The approach, that the researcher takes part in the social activities of the research field, but mainly to be able to observe the actors, has its shortcomings: The expression “participant observation” analyzed in a narrow sense combines two elements, which do not fit very well together (Förster: 2001, 467). Observation is something that needs distanciation, whereas participation can be understood as the opposition of distanciation. As long as we understand participation as something beyond the mere physical presence in the field, as long as we aim at participation in the social – that means also emotional – interaction, one can never do both things at the same time: participate and observe. One solution for this dilemma is to redefine the understanding and role of observation. Instead of trying the impossible – to take part in the social interaction and to keep the distance necessary for an observation – one stresses the importance of the social and emotional immersion. This means that the researcher does not keep the distance, which is necessary to observe the actors and to formally analyze their way of seeing the world, their emotions and their self-evidences, but the researcher engages in the field interaction and focuses on his own experiences. Then it is no longer necessary to keep a certain distance, on the contrary it is necessary that the researcher gets more and more involved in the field and that he tries not only to (cognitively) understand the actors’ perspectives, but that he is aiming at sharing these perspectives in a comprehensive sense. This shift is nothing completely new. At least to a small extend nearly every participant observation focuses on the researcher and his experiences. He becomes the object of research, because it is possible to draw conclusions from his experiences for the understanding of the actors’ view. But usually these introspective aspects are only side elements which do not

254

Christopher P. Scholtz

become a subject of discussion. In contrast approaches beyond the classical concept of participant observation have two characteristics: The references to the researcher’s experiences are not a side element, but they are a central feature, which is used for the reconstruction of the perspective of the actors. And instead of more or less hiding the considerations of the researcher’s experiences, these references are descript in detail. This becomes particularly visible with the changing of the method’s name: Example given, A. Honer calls her approach “observant participation (beobachtende Teilnahme)” (1993, 58), stressing the importance of the step from pretending to participate to a true participation. G.D. Spittler’s approach of a “thick participation (dichte Teilnahme)” (2001, 19) emphasizes the social nearness that results from a participation comprising experiences with all senses. These new concepts have in common that they use introspective elements, even if some do not mention the term “introspection”. Introspection as a method (cf. Burkart: 1999) is most appropriate for the research on the self-evident. If the researcher through an intensive participation succeeds in sharing the self-evidences with the actors, then he has an immediate experience that he can by introspective means use to generate data. Refraining as far as possible from distanciation creates of course new problems and challenges. First of all also the researcher has the problem that he has to express pre-verbal experiences with the means of verbal communication and that the self-evident changes its character as soon as it is object of reflection. Therefore he is – just like everyone – unable to express a self-evidence completely. But as research on self-evidences is often concentrated on changes of self-evidences (see above), he can focus his research on the differences instead of the whole self-evidence, which makes the description easier. And he can use methods and techniques that an average actor would consider too complicated to learn or apply: Example given it usually takes quite a long time of practice to be able to introspect effectively, and to keep a field diary is very time-consuming. A normal actor usually has no reason to spend this time. That the researcher’s reflections on the self-evident have a higher level is not explained by a general superiority of the researcher, but is caused by the special interest and by the fact that he makes an unusual effort. The second problem concerns the validity. A participant observation which lays emphasis on an intensive participation and introspective elements is a qualitative study with a very small sample. This leads to a specific validity, which can be hardly compared with that of a large quantitative study. To ensure that a missing intersubjective validity does not undermine the particular quality and depths of the findings, it is necessary to use specific instruments. A special effort is necessary for the documentation of the experiences. Field diary and (recorded and transcribed) interviews are

Researching That What Goes without Saying

255

the most important methods to produce written data, which can of course be supported by a lot of other instruments, for example the use of photography or video recording. All this data has to be systematically analyzed after the period in the field. For this the researcher needs distanciation, and a detailed analysis helps him to (re-)adjust his system of self-evidences to the academic world. For a good analysis it is most helpful to integrate triangulation (cf. Flick, 2004) within the structure of the whole research design. This means that the research on one self-evident aspect is conducted from different perspectives and/or with different methods. The different perspectives and different methods have different blind spots and together they enable a more detailed and valid reconstruction of the self-evidences and their changes. Especially for studies with a strong emphasis on the researcher’s experiences it can be helpful to use an observed self-observation (Heimerdinger/Scholtz: 2007): The researcher is the interviewee in a whole series of interviews, that are conducted by another researcher, who is only involved in the interviews, but not in the rest of the project. With this instrument the researcher can occasionally leave the double role of observer and observed, and a second perspective on the researcher’s experiences is integrated in the data. This structure enables a more detailed and balanced interpretation and a higher intersubjective validity of the analysis.

5. Conclusion The self-evident can be understood as a model case for the contrast of immediate experience and the mediacy of research. This tension causes far reaching methodological challenges and is responsible for the limitation, that only a partial reconstruction of self-evidences can be achieved. And they make research on the self-evident a time-consuming and complex endeavor. Nevertheless it is a worthwhile undertaking, because selfevidences are not only influential on religious practices and experiences, but preoccupation with them can also change the research attitude. Selfevidences are relevant for a lot of research projects and ignoring them does not conduce to balanced research findings. Therefore the reflection on methodological challenges deriving from research on self-evidences can enlarge the research competence, especially for the dealing with life world phenomena. To focus on the self-evident can furthermore broaden the researcher’s individual horizons, as one gets to know his own self-evidences. And finally research on self-evidences is an important element for every academic work that is in favor of the human subjects, their life and their

256

Christopher P. Scholtz

potentials, because only when we know something about their selfevidences are we able to make contact with them.

References BERGER, P.L./LUCKMANN, T. (1966), The Social Construction of Reality. A Treatise in the Sociology of Knowledge, Garden City, NY. BURKART, T. (1990), Methodische Einwände und Kritik an Introspektionsverfahren, Journal für Psychologie 7, 14–17 (http://www.introspektion.net/html/einwandeburkart.html). CSIKSZENTMIHALYI, M. (1990), Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience, New York. DINTER, A. (2004), Focusing on Genetic Engineering, in: N. Gregersen/M. Vejrup Nielsen (ed.), Preparing for Future: The Role of Theology in the Science-Religion Dialogue, Aarhus, 61–78. FLICK, U. (³2004), Triangulation in der qualitativen Forschung, in: U. Flick/E. von Kardorff/I. Steinke (ed.), Qualitative Forschung. Ein Handbuch, Reinbek bei Hamburg, 309–318. FORBES, B.D./MAHAN, J.H. (ed.) (2000), Religion and Popular Culture in America, Berkeley, CA./London. FÖRSTER, T. (2001), Sehen und Beobachten. Ethnographie nach der Postmoderne, sozialersinn: Zeitschrift für hermeneutische Kulturforschung 3, 459–484. GEERTZ, C. (1973), Thick Description: Toward an Interpretive Theory of Culture, in: id., The Interpretation of Cultures: Selected Essays, New York, NY, 3–30. HEIMBROCK, H.-G. (2003), Kann das Leben die Religion ersetzen? Religionstheoretische Überlegungen zur Konjunktur eines Begriffs, in: M. Witte (ed.), Der eine Gott und die Welt der Religionen. Beiträge zur Theologie der Religionen und zum interreligiösen Dialog, Würzburg, 387–409. HEIMBROCK, H.-G. (2007), From Action to Lived Experience. Considering Methodological Problems of Modern Practical Theology, in H. Streib, (ed.), Religion Inside and Outside Traditional Institutions , Bielefeld/Leiden, 43–59. HEIMERDINGER, T./SCHOLTZ, C. (2007), Beobachtete Selbstbeobachtung. Ein methodisches Instrument der hermeneutischen Kulturanalyse, Volkskunde in Rheinland Pfalz, Informationen der Gesellschaft für Volkskunde in Rheinland-Pfalz e.V. 21, 89–102. HIRSCHAUER, S./AMANN, K. (1997), Die Befremdung der eigenen Kultur. Ein Programm, in: id. (ed.), Die Befremdung der eigenen Kultur. Zur ethnographischen Herausforderung soziologischer Empirie, Frankfurt/Main, 7–52. HONER, A. (1993), Lebensweltliche Ethnographie. Ein explorativ-interpretativer Forschungsansatz am Beispiel von Heimwerker-Wissen, Wiesbaden. HUSSERL, E. (1970), The Crisis of European Sciences and Transcendental Phenomenology. An Introduction to Phenomenological Philosophy, transl. David Carr, Evanston. LOTZ, T.A. (2001), “Life-World”: A Philosophical Concept and Its Relevance for Religious Education, in: H.-G. Heimbrock/C.T. Scheilke/P. Schreiner (ed.), Towards Religious Competence. Diversity as a Challenge for Education in Europe, Münster et al., 74–84. LÜDERS, C. (³2004), Beobachten im Feld und Ethnographie, in U. Flick/E. von Kardorff/I. Steinke (ed.), Qualitative Forschung. Ein Handbuch, Reinbek bei Hamburg, 384–401. LUHMANN, N. (2000), Die Religion der Gesellschaft, Frankfurt/Main. LUTHER, H. (1992), Religion und Alltag. Bausteine zu einer praktischen Theologie des Subjekts, Stuttgart. MASLOW, A.H. (1964), Religions, Values, and Peak-Experiences, Columbus. MERLEAU-PONTY, M. (1966), Phänomenologie der Wahrnehmung (Phénoménologie de la perception), Berlin. MOXTER, M. (2000), Kultur als Lebenswelt. Studien zum Problem einer Kulturtheologie, Tübingen.

Researching That What Goes without Saying

257

RYLE, G. (1971), Thinking and Reflecting, in: id., Collected Papers, vol. 2, New York, 465–479. SCHOLTZ, C. (2005a), Fascinating Technology: Computer Games as an Issue for Religious Education, BJRE 27, 173–184. SCHOLTZ, C. (2005b), Leben mit dem Roboter – Leben im Roboter? Zur theologischen Dimension der alltäglichen Wahrnehmung des Roboterhundes Aibo, Magazin für Theologie und Ästhetik 35 (http://www.theomag.de/35/crs1.htm). SCHOLTZ, C. (2006), Alltag mit künstlichen Wesen. Theologische Implikationen eines Lebens mit subjektsimulierenden Maschinen am Beispiel des Unterhaltungsroboters Aibo (unpublished doctoral thesis, Department of Protestant Theology, Goethe University Frankfurt). SCHOLTZ, C. (2007), Teilnehmende Beobachtung, in: A. Dinter/H.-G. Heimbrock/K. Söderblom (ed.), Einführung in die Empirische Theologie. Gelebte Religion erforschen, Göttingen, 214–225. SCHÜTZ, A. (1962), Collected Papers I: The Problem of Social Reality, ed. M. Natanson, The Hague. SCHWARZE, B. (1997), Die Religion der Rock- und Popmusik. Analysen und Interpretationen, Stuttgart/Berlin/Köln. SPITTLER, G.D. (2001), Teilnehmende Beobachtung als Dichte Teilnahme, Zeitschrift für Ethnologie 126, 1–25. STONE, B.P. (2000), Faith and Film. Theological Themes at the Cinema, St. Louis, MO. VAN GENNEP, A. (1972), The Rites of Passage, Chicago, IL. WALDENFELS, B. (1996), Order in the Twilight, Athens, OH. WITTGENSTEIN, L. (1958), Philosophical Investigations, transl. by G.E.M. Anscombe, Oxford.

Empirical Research on Religion Perspectives from the Psychology of Religion DAVID M. WULFF Wheaton College, Norton, USA

The psychology of religion is, in principle, a strictly nonsectarian discipline that applies to religion the methods and interpretive frameworks of contemporary Western psychology. “Religion” is usually understood as referring to individual experiences, attitudes, and conduct, but its referent is sometimes also the diverse contents – images, doctrines, myths, rituals – of the historic religious traditions. Thus, broadly speaking, there are two variants of psychology of religion: one of religious persons and another of religious content. Those who pursue a psychology of religious persons have tended historically to work within a single religious tradition – usually ProtestantChristian – often with a personal commitment to the tradition and little or no interest in interpreting its content psychologically. Those who favor a psychology of religious contents, on the other hand, commonly seek to reinterpret such contents and trace out its origins, usually in terms of a particular psychological theory and sometimes in a comparative, crosscultural framework. According to the “principle of the exclusion of the transcendent”, laid out at the beginning of the twentieth century by the Swiss psychologist Theodore Flournoy (1902) and advocated since then by others, psychologists of religion may neither affirm nor deny the reality of religious objects – that is, the reality of the transcendent as it is variously conceived and represented; this position is often referred to today as methodological agnosticism. Thus, in their scholarly work, psychologists of religion are advised to remain religiously neutral, neither including the transcendent in their equations as they seek to understand religion nor drawing conclusions about the ontological status of the content of religious beliefs and experience. Ideally, they will also embrace an understanding of religion that adequately encompasses the world’s religious traditions. However broad their focus, they should avoid imposing the categories of their own faith or worldview, or of the tradition with which they are most familiar. As we will see later in this paper, this principle has not been so easily applied. Indeed, even among those who embrace it – not all researchers do – it is a position that is uncommonly achieved.

260

David M. Wulff

Within the boundaries set by Flournoy’s principle, psychologists of religion collectively pursue three different projects: 1. systematically describing religion, both as inner experience and outer expression, with the goal of clarifying religion’s essential characteristics and charting their development over the life course; 2. explaining the origins of religion, in history and in individual lives, thereby illuminating its fundamental nature; and 3. tracing out the consequences of religious ideas, attitudes, experiences, and practices, both in individual lives and in the larger world. Whereas the second task typically challenges the self-understandings of religious persons and traditions, the first and third undertakings are consonant with traditional religious attitudes and even have roots in the historic religious traditions themselves. Psychology is an extraordinarily diverse field, one that became so fractionated over the course of the twentieth century that at least one authority has recommended abandoning the very name and referring instead to “the psychological studies”, thereby acknowledging the outcome of this fragmentation (Koch: 1985). Thus psychologists of religion have a remarkable diversity of approaches and procedures to choose from in their efforts to illuminate religion. Over the decades, a surprisingly broad selection has been made from this theoretical and methodological cornucopia. Nevertheless, certain preferences have come to dominate the field. Viewed from the broadest methodological perspective, the psychology of religion may be divided into the two traditions that were laid out by W. Dilthey more than a century ago: the natural-scientific and the humanscientific. The natural sciences, die Naturwissenschaften, systematically examine the world of natural phenomena by objective, preferably experimental means, looking for causal connections among events and developing testable explanatory theories. The human sciences, die Geisteswissenschaften, are directed, in contrast, toward the human world of experience, intentionality, and creativity. Drawing on the human capacities for empathy and imagination, the human sciences seek meaningful rather than causal connections, interpretive understanding rather than causal explanation. Strictly speaking, both of these traditions are empirical, in the original sense of being grounded in experience rather than rationality or speculation. Within psychology, however, “empirical” has come to designate those methods that are derived from the natural sciences, foremost quantification and experimentation. So, too, the adjective scientific, even though some of the natural sciences, such as biology and botany, are not predominately quantitative, and others, including paleontology and astronomy, are generally not in a position to perform experiments. Otherwise hard-pressed to know how to refer to this now-dominant tradition in psychology, I will accept its own self-referencing and refer to it as empirical psychology. The

Empirical Research on Religion

261

human-scientific tradition will then be referred to as interpretive psychology. Both of these traditions, let me emphasize, may nonetheless be considered empirical and scientific according to the broad, original meanings, and hence I have both of them in mind when I refer to empirical research. When I wish to refer to research that falls specifically within the natural-scientific tradition, I will designate it statistical-empirical. Each of these traditions has roots in the field’s inaugural period around the turn of the twentieth century. The empirical tradition can be traced back to G. Stanley Hall and his students at Clark University, especially E. Starbuck, who stands as the earliest exemplar of this approach. Starbuck painstakingly analyzed autobiographical questionnaire responses from 192 participants as well as 1265 replies to a far briefer questionnaire, which together allowed him to trace out the typical course of conversion and of religious growth more generally, against the backdrop of physical maturation. The interpretive tradition was first and most famously exemplified by W. James in his magisterial work The Varieties of Religious Experience (1985/1902). James carried out his analysis on the basis of personal documents, including some of Starbuck’s questionnaire replies, but he rejected the Clark school’s statistical approach in favor of a qualitative, protophenomenological one; and rather than assembling a representative sample from which to generalize, he chose as his informants those relatively rare “experts” in the religious realm whose reports of remarkable experiences he masterfully probed with empathic understanding. Today, the statistical-empirical tradition is promoted chiefly by scholars who identify themselves as psychologists first and foremost, and whose advanced degrees and academic appointments are mainly in psychology. They share a commitment to conforming their research to the dominant models in psychology, with the hope of publishing much of their research in mainline journals and thereby gaining the attention and respect of psychologists in other fields. Given their commitment to the statisticalempirical tradition, they are essentially limited to a psychology of living religious persons, for their methodology typically requires the collecting of questionnaire data from selected groups of contemporary individuals, from which data, then, they can generalize to larger populations. The interpretive tradition, on the other hand, is most often pursued by scholars who have specialized in the religious studies or in theology, or by clinical practitioners within a particular interpretive tradition, such as psychoanalysis. Unconvinced that the quantification paradigm genuinely illuminates religion, interpretive psychologists of religion embrace a variety of qualitative methods, including personal document analysis, historical and clinical case studies, interviews, and other such techniques. Less concerned about generalization, these researchers can as easily pursue the psychology

262

David M. Wulff

of religious contents as they can the psychology of religious persons, and the contents or persons may be located either in the present or in the past. The majority of statistical-empirical psychologists of religion today pursue the first and third of the three projects delineated above: describing religion in individual lives and tracing out its consequences. Description is undertaken only in a limited sense, however, for it is usually based on yesno replies to standardized religiosity questionnaires and is reported in the form of numerical scores. The resulting data may then be subjected to factor analysis, a statistical procedure used to identify the underlying “factors” that account for the mathematical interrelationships of questionnaire items. Some assume that factor analysis reveals to us religion’s essential dimensions or traits; others recognize that the number and character of the resulting dimensions are always contingent on both the types of questions asked and the nature of the participants who answer them. Once religion has been satisfactorily operationalized – that is, identified and measured by some assessment device – the search for religion’s consequences is undertaken by mathematically correlating participants’ scores on the religiosity questionnaires with their scores on other measures, commonly of social attitudes or of various dimensions of mental health. Religiosity measures are sometimes also related to educational and socioeconomic variables as well as to physical-health status. The farther goal served by establishing religion’s correlates is seldom explicitly stated, but from the work of James onward, it has often been the defense or promotion of religion in the context of an increasingly secular society. When promoting religion is the ultimate goal of the statistical-empirical psychologists, they are unlikely to be interested in the second project, explaining religion’s origins. Yet even those who are engaged by this question will find it difficult to address. According to the statistical-empirical, or measurement, paradigm (Gorsuch: 1984), the ideal method for establishing causation is the experiment; but that, many argue, is largely foreclosed in the study of religion. The correlational procedures that are used instead do not allow clear inferences about cause and effect. For example, a number of studies have found significant relationships between images of God and such variables as mother and father images and level of self-esteem. It is a matter of debate, however, if the latter variables play a causal role in the shaping of positive or negative God images, or if the God image – or some third variable – is the primary causal factor in the pattern of interrelationship. Some of the earliest empirical speculation on causal factors in religion centered on physiological processes, including both pathological conditions, such as epilepsy, and the changes brought about by such voluntary practices as fasting, ecstatic dancing, and the taking of drugs. Recent advances in our knowledge of brain processes and the effects on them of various practices,

Empirical Research on Religion

263

including meditation and the ingestion of psychedelic drugs, have made possible more precise biological explanations. Basic research on the lateral specialization of the brain’s hemispheres, for example, has prompted speculation as well as further investigations suggesting that striking religious or mystical experience is the result of exceptional electrical activity in the right temporal lobe. Whereas some conclude that establishing such physiological correlates reduces religious experience to electrical and chemical activity and hence invalidates it, researchers on meditation point to such correlates as evidence that meditation is genuinely and uniquely effective. The new “neurotheology” similarly views such findings as generally friendly to religion. Rejecting the natural-scientific approach as essentially inapplicable to the study of human experience and expression, proponents of the humanscientific model employ a variety of methods chosen for their sensitivity to human subjectivity. Personal document analysis, historical and clinical case studies, interviews, and other such techniques provide entrée into the subtleties of individual religious experience, both ordinary and exceptional. If the object of study is the content of the religious traditions, attention is given to the various forms of objective human expression, such as the bodily movements of religious ritual or the images recorded in religious scriptures. The project of describing religious phenomena lies at the heart of the interpretive approach. A phenomenological perspective is often explicitly embraced, which in this context is understood as having a twofold agenda: on the “negative” or critical side, a vigilance for unjustified assumptions or presuppositions; and on the positive or constructive side, a commitment to the fullest and most faithful descriptive account possible of the phenomena under investigation (Spiegelberg: 1972; van Manen: 1990). More an attitude than a set of prescribed methods, phenomenology requires either direct access to the object of study, in the form of one’s own experience, or an exceptional capacity for empathic understanding of others’ experience (Spiegelberg: 1975). For the descriptive study of mystical experience, to illustrate, the German physician and psychotherapist C. Albrecht (1951) was able to draw on his own intimate knowledge of meditation whereas James, a professed outsider, undertook his classic work vicariously, with the aid of numerous personal documents written by “experts” in the religious realm. Whether direct or vicarious, phenomenological description typically culminates in the identification of the phenomenon’s essential features or traits. For some investigators, illumination of these traits marks the culmination of their work. Others go further, seeking some interpretation of the descriptive material. Any of a variety of perspectives may come into play. One may undertake a “hermeneutical phenomenology”, by means of which

264

David M. Wulff

the phenomenon is situated in the broader context of human existence, itself understood phenomenologically. Alternatively, one may interpret the phenomenon in terms of one of the depth psychologies, whether it be Freudian psychoanalysis or one of its successors, Jung’s analytical psychology, or yet another of the clinic-derived theories of personality. Interpretation in terms of these psychologies marks a shift to the second of the field’s projects: explaining the origins of religion in terms of psychological processes and suggesting thereby what the fundamental nature of religion is. Freud (1927) is well known for concluding that belief in a Father-God is a product of the wishes and fears of early childhood, especially as they are shaped by the emotional complications of the Oedipus complex. Branding religion an “illusion”, by which he meant a creation of wishfulfillment, Freud looked to the day when humankind would outgrow religion entirely. Declaring this vision of the future to be itself an illusion, Freud’s lifelong friend O. Pfister (1944) used psychoanalysis to explain the presence of neurotic trends in the Christian tradition and proposed that such insights might help to purify religious faith and practice. The views of certain object-relations theorists, who modified psychoanalysis by ascribing to human beings a fundamental need for relationship, are likewise more positive than Freud’s. Religion, they concluded, is a system of therapy that compensates for bad object relations deep in the past and promotes wholeness through more satisfactory ones in the present. Jung, too, viewed religion as a vital resource; historically, he said, the individuation process of attaining psychic balance and wholeness has been promoted chiefly by the religious traditions (Wulff: 1997). It is probably safe to say that, through the field’s history, most psychologists of religion have undertaken their work to promote a particular view of religion. Or to say it the other way around, psychologists of religion seldom pursue research in the field from a purely disinterested perspective. Indeed, from the beginning it has often been explicitly assumed that, as an applied field of study, the psychology of religion has an important role to play in advancing religious institutions, typically by undergirding religious education or by providing foundations for pastoral care (Seelesorge). The interest in religious education was evident from the start in America. It is most obvious in the title of S. Hall’s American Journal of Religious Psychology and Education, which began publication in 1904. But it was there, too, in the earliest work of E. Starbuck. He carried out his research on conversion, Starbuck (1899) said, with the hope that it would provide guidance to religious educators for fostering growth toward moral and religious maturity. But it was G. Coe above all who exemplified the application of the psychology of religion to the field of religious education.

Empirical Research on Religion

265

Expecting to follow in the footsteps of his father, who was a Methodist minister, Coe completed theological studies at the Boston University School of Theology. But his work there convinced him that theology was incompatible with historical criticism and scientific method. Thus, like Hall, he left theology and earned a Ph.D. in philosophy and psychology instead. He carried out a series of empirical studies of conversion and mystical experience, using hypnotic experiments to demonstrate that certain temperaments, along with a tendency toward automatisms, predispose individuals to having religious experiences. Increasingly interested in education, Coe joined with others in 1903 to found the Religious Education Association. He was soon elected president of the organization and eventually became the leading American figure in religious education. As the Skinner and McAlpin Professor of Practical Theology at Union Theological Seminary in New York City, he established a department of Religious Education and Psychology, which in due time founded the Union School of Religion, an experimental Sunday school. Through his popular courses and such major writings as Social Theory of Religious Education (1917), Coe exerted a profound influence on liberal Protestant educators of his day. But he also remained influential in the psychology of religion, to which he contributed not only his earliest book, The Spiritual Life (1900), but also and more importantly a well-regarded manual, The Psychology of Religion (1916), which was reprinted just a few months ago, almost 90 years after it first appeared. Through a century of empirical research, psychologists of religion have kept religious educators and pastoral counselors grounded in the realities of individual lives. They have documented the trends and patterns of change in religious feelings and ideation over the first two decades and sometimes beyond, and they have noted how these changes reflect the unfolding of emotional and cognitive capacities, the presence of individual needs and developmental crises, and the press of the surrounding social and physical environment. The outcome, as researchers in both Germany (Spranger: 1924; Thun: 1969) and the United States (Starbuck: 1899; Shand: 1961) have demonstrated, is a high degree of individuality, even idiosyncrasy, among religious persons, including religious professionals. From Hall (1882) onward, sustained efforts have been made to chart religious development in a general way on the basis of the cumulating empirical evidence, but the causal factors are so numerous and complex that it is difficult to predict the course of religious development during the first two decades and almost impossible after that. Seriously complicating this task is the fundamental requirement of some underlying conception of what religious or spiritual maturity consists. Unfortunately, this is not a problem that can be solved empirically. When A. Maslow set about to describe the outcome of the broad process of self-

266

David M. Wulff

actualization, he searched for exemplars who seemed to have become fully realized individuals. But he first had to have some notion of what they would be like. He himself acknowledged this conundrum, but he believed that the iterative process he used – choosing potential candidates, studying their lives, and then sharpening his criteria and looking for other possible exemplars – ultimately succeeded in providing him with a few dozen historical and contemporary persons who were at least good candidates for the rarely achieved state of self-actualization. Some of his critics argued, however, that Maslow had effectively set his criteria in advance, in accord with his own Western-liberal predilections; that he then chose admirable persons who seemed to embody these criteria; and that, in an admittedly very impressionistic way, he finally put forward what he learned about their lives as empirical evidence for his model of human fulfillment. Any construction of religious development risks proceeding in the same circular way. From my point of view, the best model we have currently is J. Fowler’s (1981) stages of faith. Influenced in his thinking by E. Erikson, J. Piaget, and L. Kohlberg, on the psychological side, and P. Ricoeur and W. Cantwell Smith on the religious side, Fowler and his associates interviewed 359 persons ranging in age from 4 to 84 and representing Protestant, Catholic, and Jewish traditions. On the basis of the transcribed interview protocols, they derived six stages of development beyond the “undifferentiated” or “primal” faith of infancy, which is said to rest on a foundation of basic trust and mutuality. I will not here review these six stages, except to point to the revolutionary character of the fourth stage, individuative-reflective faith, one that many adults never reach. This stage is marked by two essential aspects: realizing the relativity of one’s inherited worldview and abandoning reliance on external authority. The outcome is a disruption of the once-intimate relationship with long-cherished religious symbols and ritual, and with that break comes a deep sense of loss if not also of guilt. But lying on the further side are the possibilities of the next stage, conjunctive faith, for which one moves beyond the reductive conceptions of ritual and myth of the previous stage and, by discovering the deeper possibilities of symbols and paradoxes in the religious traditions, attains to Ricoeur’s second naïveté and thereby becomes reengaged with the reality expressed by means of traditional religious elements. In the light of W. Perry’s (1970) classic findings in regard to the intellectual and ethical development of college students, Fowler’s individuativereflective faith would indeed be a sign of increasing maturity, for in Perry’s research the realization of relativism proved to be a crucial turning point, one that is not always welcomed by those experiencing it, but a transformation that is essential nonetheless for intellectual maturity. Religiously conservative critics, however, have taken exception to both Perry and Fowler,

Empirical Research on Religion

267

arguing that their schemas contain a fundamental liberal bias against authority. For conservative Christians, certainly, ideal religious maturation would entail no such disruption of relationship or loss of meaning, but only a deepening of both. Thus ultimately the issue comes down to one’s fundamental understanding of what religion is about and what one hopes for in regard to its future, both individually and for society as a whole. As I have argued elsewhere (e.g., Wulff: 2001; 2002), from its beginnings the psychology of religion, whether broadly or narrowly empirical, has been pursued by scholars who bring to their work a personal religious agenda. Indeed, that agenda is what usually draws them to a field that many others view with suspicion, either because it seems too friendly toward religion or because it seems hostile. Starbuck, we know, wanted to encourage individual religious maturity. James hoped to convinced the skeptics among his academic colleagues that “although all the special manifestations of religion may have been absurd […], yet the life of it as a whole is mankind’s most important function” (James: 1920, 127). Coe, who had as a youth been oppressed by expectations for religious experience that he could not fulfill and who later was deeply influenced by the Social Gospel movement, sought as a religious educator to promote a this-worldly view of religion that conceived of it as the development of personality in the context of social relations (Wulff: 1999). Like Coe, whose final book, What is Religion Doing to Our Consciences? (1943), fervently calls attention to the deep social concerns that drew him to the psychology of religion, others of the early contributors to the field left behind a last work testifying to their personal hopes for religion. Hall’s was Jesus, the Christ, in the Light of Psychology (1917), in which Hall argues that it is psychology’s task to reveal the true meaning of Jesus – a projection, he thought, of intrapsychic processes of transformation – and thereby bring about a radical reconstruction of the world. J.H. Leuba’s last, posthumous work, The Reformation of the Churches (1950), lays out his vision of reformed “religious societies” that will promote “spiritual hygiene and culture” by drawing on the “empirical wisdom” of the great religious traditions, including their understanding of the power of art, pageantry, and ritual but not the overlay of mythic content that modern science and rationality make untenable (Leuba: 1950, 124). And in his Eternal Values in Religion (1950), J. Pratt, a student of James’s, argues for finding new forms of faith and new methods of spiritual cultivation, in order to conserve our spiritual heritage, which he characterizes as both invaluable and irreplaceable. The impulse to defend, reinterpret, critique, or revise religious tradition was evidenced among European psychologists of religion as well. Jean Piaget, to illustrate, distinguished between two fundamental types of reli-

268

David M. Wulff

gious attitude, transcendence and immanence, the former representing a God of incomprehensible causes who transcends this world, and the latter, a God of values who lies within us. Piaget concluded from his research group’s findings that children who are taught unilateral respect for adults, especially ones with authority and prestige, are inclined toward the transcendent attitude, whereas those taught mutual respect in a context of equality and reciprocity tend toward the contrasting, immanent one. Judging the transcendent God of traditional theology to be an illogical product of the infantile imagination, and ascribing to the doctrine of sin and expiation the qualities of moral realism, Piaget gave his imprimatur to immanentism and its God and morality of love (Wulff: 1997, 45–46). Freud, we’ve noted, is famous for his thoroughgoing rejection of religion, and most statistical-empirical psychologists of religion are today highly critical of Freud’s allowing his own views to shape his constructions of religion. But have these empiricists themselves transcended the personal equation? In truth, empirical methodology remains a human enterprise, with individual subjectivity unavoidably entering in at many points, from the initial construction of the questionnaires to the statistical analyses and final interpretations. Some critics of the statistical-empirical approach have objected to the lack of sufficient alternatives for responding to the questions that are typically asked, especially for respondents of more liberal or sophisticated outlooks. Thus R. Hunt (1972), for example, argued for adding a mythological alternative to questionnaires that allowed only literal affirmation or disaffirmation of creedal statements. More recently, D. Hutsebaut (1996) and his associates have developed a questionnaire that includes a scale of “post-critical belief,” which was inspired by Ricoeur’s concept of the second naïveté. Most of the standard religiosity questionnaires, it can be said, including the widely used Allport-Ross Intrinsic Religious Orientation scale, tend to correlate with measures of conservative or fundamentalist religiosity. The conservative bias of many of these questionnaires must be kept in mind, then, when one reviews the research that has been conducted through their use. And one cannot simply rely on the name of the questionnaire. A particularly misleading example is the Spiritual Well-Being Scale devised by Paloutzian and Ellison (1982). This modest instrument consists of two 10-item subscales, one designated Religious Well-Being (RWB) and the other, Existential Well-Being (EWB). The first consists entirely of statements assessing the individual’s satisfaction with his or her felt-relationship with God; the second, which contains no explicitly religious language, measures the degree to which the individual enjoys life in the present, looks forward to the future, and has a sense of purpose. The two subscales are positively though only modestly correlated, raising doubts that their scores should be combined.

Empirical Research on Religion

269

The Existential Well-Being subscale accords reasonably well with the modern-day notion of a spirituality centered in the human spirit, but the Religious Well-Being subscale is essentially a closeness-to-God scale, which thus draws spirituality back into the sphere of traditional, if not implicitly Christian, theistic religiosity. Indeed, Genia (2001) reports that, in a religiously heterogeneous sample of college students, the Religious WellBeing subscale correlated .63 with a religious fundamentalism scale (which scale, in contrast, correlated only .08 with the Existential Well-Being subscale). Reflecting the same trend, various researchers have reported a marked ceiling effect for the Religious Well-Being scale when it is administered to evangelical Christians, for they tend to affirm feeling close to God on all, or nearly all, of the ten similarly worded items (Genia: 2001; Slater/Hall/Edwards: 2001). The scale is widely used in spite of such psychometric problems, most likely because the labeling combines two constructs that are popular today, spirituality and well-being.1 Unfortunately, however, the scale names are seriously misleading. The Existential Well-Being subscale might simply have been called a well-being scale, for “existential” adds nothing to its meaning. But that adjective becomes necessary in order to distinguish the well-being that this subscale is intended to measure from the well-being attributed to the other subscale, as well as to their combination. Yet, as we have noted, the RWB subscale is really a closeness-to-God scale. The “well-being” attributed to this subscale silently provides justification – otherwise hard to come by – for combining it with the EWB scale and hence creating a scale of “spiritual well-being.” The result is a closeness-to-God or religious conservatism scale that, combined as it is with a well-being scale of the same length, is virtually guaranteed a positive association with a variety of other well-being correlates – all under the general rubric of “spiritual well-being”. These associations are then presented to mental health researchers and practitioners with a so-called allergy to spirituality as evidence that spiritual well-being, and spirituality in general, have important positive implications for self-esteem and other such mental-health variables (Kamya: 2000). Some research reports (e.g. Mahalik/Lagan: 2001) provide results for both subscales, making it possible for critical readers to trace out the correlates separately, but other studies (e.g. Kamya: 2000; Kim, et al.: 2000) report only the total 1 The scale may be popular for other qualities as well. I know of one Eastern-European researcher who singled it out mainly because it appeared to have attained the status of a commercially published test and hence one well vetted and meeting high standards. This scale and its brief manual, however, are published and distributed by the authors themselves, under the name of Life Advance, Inc. The above researcher was unable to use the scale because of its high cost, which is currently $ 2.25 for a single copy but somewhat less if ordered in quantities over 50.

270

David M. Wulff

spiritual well-being score, confounding the two, largely independent variables that compose it. Spirituality scales are now multiplying, and thus far most of them resemble traditional religiosity scales, with an emphasis on relationship to God and a minimizing of institutional involvement. One immediate implication is that persons who are religious or spiritual in nontheistic ways will likely score low on spiritual well-being and related variables, even though they may themselves feel a deep sense of well-being that they would label spiritual. Another implication is that researchers are likely to have difficulty distinguishing religion and spirituality by empirical means. That a conceptual difference persists, unclear and shifting though it is, is indicated by the frequent co-occurrence of these terms in the titles of books (e.g. Paloutzian/ Park: 2005), and journal articles (e.g. Miller/Thoresen: 2003); by the recurring debate among members of Division 36 of APA over whether the division’s name should be change to Psychology of Religion and Spirituality; and most conspicuously by the significant number of persons, at least in North America, who insistently represent themselves as spiritual but not religious. Conceptual analysis, however, may be less relevant here than discourse analysis, for the language of spirituality among empirical psychologists of religion clearly has more to do with promoting interest in and favorable views of religion among other psychologists than with representing subtle differences in the heterogeneous religious lives in the culture at large (Hoge/Johnson/Luidens: 1994; Roof: 1993). The term “spirituality” has a less sectarian and more scientific sound to it than “religion,” and thus its promotion both as an object of research and as a potential resource in psychotherapy is less likely to put off nonreligious psychologists, including journal and book-acquisition editors, in spite of the fact that many of those psychologists engaging in the rhetoric of spirituality are conservatively religious. These psychologists, in fact, tend to dominate the current discourse on religion and spirituality, both in recent publications of APA (e.g. Miller: 1999; Richards/Bergin: 1997; Shafranske: 1996) and in various mainline journals (e.g. Miller/Thoresen: 2003; Emmons/McCullough: 1999). Compounding this situation today are the programmatic interests and extraordinary resources of the Templeton Foundation, which has generously funded a number of researchers associated with the psychology of religion. Sir John Templeton established this foundation in 1987 after he sold his highly successful mutual funds company for some 500 million dollars. Sir John, who is now in his 90s and remains on the Foundation’s board, is a long-time Presbyterian who “admits to additional influence from the New Thought movements of Christian Science, Unity and Religious Science.” Through his foundation, he proposed to promote “further ‘knowledge and

Empirical Research on Religion

271

love of God’” (Templeton website). By means of what he describes as a humble approach in both theology and science, he aspired to facilitating a one-hundredfold multiplication of “spiritual information”, akin to the explosion of knowledge in science over the last century. His son, John, Templeton, Jr., a pediatric surgeon and an evangelical Christian, has recently taken over as the president of the Foundation. Laudable though the Templeton Foundation’s goals may be, there is widespread concern that the hundreds of projects, studies, awards, and publications sponsored by the wealthy organization have been significantly shaped by Sir John’s particular religious vision, which combines an emphasis on character, especially the virtues of humility, forgiveness, and gratitude, with the traditional values of capitalism and hard work, a combination suggestive of the hugely successful Horatio Alger novels from early in the twentieth century. Thus it is that the recent chapter on the psychology of religion in the Annual Review of Psychology gives special prominence to research on Sir John’s three favorite virtues, much of it funded by the Templeton Foundation (Emmons/Paloutzian: 2003). These virtues, conspicuously Christian ones that are largely absent from the classic phenomenologies of religion (e.g. Heiler: 1961; Van der Leeuw: 1933), are topics that have no precedence in the psychology of religion. Thus the Templeton Foundation and such extensions of it as the Metanexus Institute and the Forgiveness Project are threatening to reshape the agenda of the psychology of religion in a sectarian direction at the same time that the Foundation’s great investment in reporting progress may be more or less subtly distorting the tradition of disinterested research. All of which is to say that psychological research on religion, especially of the less transparent statistical-empirical variety, should be approached with great caution and a well-informed, critical perspective. The vision of a truly disinterested and comprehensive psychology of religion that Flournoy put forward at the beginning of the twentieth century, and that James Pratt (1920; cf. Wulff: 1997), perhaps more than anyone else, pursued with much diligence, is at great risk of being lost. That would be a loss indeed, especially at a time when religion is playing an increasingly prominent role in shaping the social, political, and even ecological dimensions of our world. Religion may well contribute in certain positive ways to individual and social well-being, as psychologists of religion have been arguing in recent years; but it is patently also a force in the larger world that fosters divisiveness, intolerance, and destructiveness. A genuinely empirical psychology of religion must seek to illuminate both of these faces if we are to have a true measure of what spirituality is.

272

David M. Wulff

References ALBRECHT, C. (1951), Psychologie des mystischen Bewußtseins, Bremen. COE, G.A. (1917), Social Theory of Religious Education, New York. COE, G.A. (1900), The Spiritual Life: Studies in the Science of Religion, New York. COE, G.A. (1916), The Psychology of Religion, Chicago. COE, G.A. (1943), What is Religion Doing to our Consciences?, New York. EMMONS, R.A./MCCULLOUGH, M.E. (ed.) (1999), Religion in the Psychology of Personality, Journal of Personality, 67 (6). EMMONS, R.A./PALOUTZIAN, R.F. (2003), The Psychology of Religion, Annual Review of Psychology 54, 377–402. FLOURNOY, T. (1902), Les principes de la psychologie religieuse, Archives de Psychologie 2, 33–57. FOWLER, J.W. (1981), Stages of Faith: The Psychology of Human Development and the Quest for Meaning, San Francisco. FREUD, S. (1927/1961), The Future of an Illusion, in: The Standard Edition of the Complete Psychological Works of Sigmund Freud, vol. 21, transl. by J. Strachey, London, 1–56. GENIA, V. (2001), Evaluation of the Spiritual Well-Being Scale in a Sample of College Students, International Journal for the Psychology of Religion 11, 25–33. GORSUCH, R.L. (1984), Measurement: The Boon and Bane of Investigating Religion, American Psychologist 39, 228–236. HALL, G.S. (1882), The Moral and Religious Training of Children, The Princeton Review 9, 26–48. HALL, G.S. (1917), Jesus, the Christ, in the Light of Psychology, New York. HEILER, F. (1961), Erscheinungsformen und Wesen der Religion, Stuttgart. HOGE, D.R./JOHNSON, B./LUIDENS, D.A. (1994), Vanishing Boundaries: The Religion of Mainline Protestant Baby Boomers, Louisville, KY. HUNT, R. (1972), Mythological-Symbolic Religious Commitment: The LAM Scales, Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 11, 42–52. HUTSEBAUT, D. (1996), Post-Critical Belief: A New Approach to the Religious Attitude Problem, Journal of Empirical Theology 9, 48–66. JAMES, H. (ed.) (1920), The Letters of William James, Boston. JAMES, W. (1985/1902), The Varieties of Religious Experience: A Study in Human Nature, Cambridge, MA. KAMYA, H.A. (2000), Hardiness and Spiritual Well-Being among Social Work Students: Implications for Social Work Education, Journal of Social Work Education 36, 231–240. KIM, J./HEINEMANN, A.W./BODE, R.K./SLIWA, J./KING, R.B. (2000), Spirituality, Quality of Life, and Functional Recovery after Medical Rehabilitation, Rehabilitation Psychology 45, 365–385. KOCH, S./LEARY, D.E. (ed.) (1985), A Century of Psychology as Science, New York. LEUBA, J.H. (1950), The Reformation of the Churches, Boston. MAHALIK, J.R./LAGAN, H.D. (2001), Examining Masculine Gender Role Conflict and Stress in Relation to Religious Orientation and Spiritual Well-Being, Psychology of Men & Masculinity 2, 24–33. MILLER, W.R. (ed.) (1999), Integrating Spirituality into Treatment: Resources for Practitioners, Washington, D.C. MILLER, W.R./THORESEN, C.E. (2003), Spirituality, Religion, and Health: An Emerging Research Field, American Psychologist 58, 24–35. PALOUTZIAN, R.F./PARK, C. (ed.) (2005), Handbook of the Psychology of Religion and Spirituality, New York. PALOUTZIAN, R.F./ELLISON, C.W. (1982), Loneliness, spiritual well-being, and quality of life, in: L.A. Peplau/D. Perlman (ed.), Loneliness: A Sourcebook of Current Theory, Research and Therapy, New York, 224–237. PERRY JR., W.G. (1970), Forms of Intellectual and Ethical Development in the College Years, New York.

Empirical Research on Religion

273

PFISTER, O. (1944/1948), Christianity and Fear: A Study in History and in the Psychology and Hygiene of Religion, transl. by W.H. Johnston, London. PRATT, J.B. (1920), The Religious Consciousness: A Psychological Study, New York. PRATT, J.B. (1950), Eternal Values in Religion, New York. RICHARDS, P.S./BERGIN, A.E. (1997), A Spiritual Strategy for Counseling and Psychotherapy, Washington, D.C. ROOF, W.C. (1993), A Generation of Seekers: The Spiritual Journeys of the Baby Boom Generation, San Francisco. SHAFRANSKE, E.P. (ed.) (1996), Religion and the Clinical Practice of Psychology, Washington, D.C. SHAND, J.D. (1961), A Factorial Analysis of Clergymen’s Ratings of Concepts Regarding What it Means to be “Religious”, Ann Arbor, MI. SLATER, W./HALL, T.W./EDWARDS, K.J. (2001), Measuring Religion and Spirituality: Where Are We and Where Are We Going? Journal of Psychology and Theology 29, 4–21. SPIEGELBERG, H. (1972), Phenomenology in Psychology and Psychiatry, Evanston, IL. SPIEGELBERG, H. (1975), Phenomenology through Vicarious Phenomenology, in: Doing Phenomenology: Essays on and in Phenomenology, The Hague, 35–53. SPRANGER, E. (1924), Psychologie des Jugendalters, Leipzig. STARBUCK, E.D. (1899), The Psychology of Religion: An Empirical Study of the Growth of Religious Consciousness, New York. THUN, T. (1969), Das religiöse Schicksal des alten Menschen, Stuttgart. VAN DER LEEUW, G. (1933), Religion in Essence and Manifestation: A Study in Phenomenology, transl. by J.E. Turner, London. VAN MANEN, M. (1990), Researching Lived Experience: Human Science for an Action Sensitive Pedagogy, Albany, NY. WULFF, D.M. (1999), George Albert Coe, in: J.A. Garraty/M.C. Carnes (ed.), American National Biography, vol. 5, New York, 136–138. WULFF, D.M. (2001/2002), The Psychology of Religion and the Problem of Apologetics, Festschrift in Honor of Nils G. Holm, Åbo Akademi University, Finland. Dedicated volume of Temenos, Studies in Comparative Religion, 37–38; 241–261. WULFF, D.M. (21997), Psychology of Religion: Classic and Contemporary, New York.

Index of Names

Albrecht, C. 263 Alger, H. 271 Anderson, B. 29 Aristotle 100, 168 Arnold, C. 18 Aune, M.B. 51 Bacon, R. 137 Barry, D. 19 Beaudoin, T. 32f Bell, C. 13, 48–50, 54 Bellah, R. 96 Benedict XVI 208 Berkeley, G. 138 Bieler, Andrea 13, 39, 231, 277, 281 Bourdieu, P. 61, 197, 199 Bourne, E.J. 101 Boyer, P. 88, 90, 92 Brimlow, Robert W. 28 Budde, Michael L. 28 Carr, D. 245, 249 Cavanaugh, W. 29 Chauvet, L.-M. 46f Chidester, D. 191 Clayton, P. 183 Clooney, F.X. 103f Coe, G.A. 264f, 267 Cox, J.L. 196 Csikszentmihalyi, M. 243 Davidson, J.D. 45f Deacon, T. 96 Derrida, J. 80, 126, 130f, 172 Dilthey, W. 140, 145, 195, 260 Dreyer, J.S. 15f, 189, 201, 277, 282 Dupuis, J. 104 Durkheim, E. 48, 176 Eco, U. 72, 172 Edwards, R.B. 100 Eliade, M. 8, 10, 77, 79, 96, 105, 149 Ellison, C.W. 268 Erikson, E. 266 Essen, G. 86f Fernandez, James W. 57 Flournoy, T. 259f, 271 Forbes, B.D. 27 Fowler, J.W. 266

Freud, S. 264, 268 Gadamer, H.-G. 8, 15, 191–196 Geertz, C. 43, 49, 66, 149, 248 Gennep, A. van 43f, 67 Gewirth, A. 107 Goethals, G. 34 Goetz, J.P. 198 Goffman, E. 55, 71 Goodman, N. 87 Gothóni, R. 191f, 208 Greimas, A.J. 172 Habermas, J. 15, 175–182, 194, 197, 282 Haeffner, G. 51 Hahn, P.M. 64 Hall, G.S. 261, 264f, 267 Hegel, G.W.F. 8, 279 Heidegger, M. 8, 118 Heiler, F. 8, 149 Heimbrock, H.-G. 133, 173, 215, 239, 277 Heimerdinger, T. 13, 61, 277, 281 Hervieu-Léger, D. 190 Honer, A. 254 Hoover, S. 31 Horkheimer, M. 178 Humboldt, W. von 78 Hunt, R. 268 Husserl, E. 117f, 129f, 130, 140–142, 145, 147, 151, 245, 248f Hutsebaut, D. 268 James, W. 9f, 48, 51, 145, 147f, 160, 186, 261–263, 267, 279 Jensen, J. 101 John Paul II 34, 202 John XXIII 202 Johnson, M. 52–54 Kant, I. 85f, 93, 106f, 138 Khoury, T. 208 King, M.L. 102 Kohlberg, L. 266 Krüger, J.S. 189 Lakoff, G. 52f LeCompte, M.D. 198 Lee, B. 41 Lee, J. 45 Leuba, J.H. 267

276

Index of Names

Levine, F.J. 19 Lindbeck, G. 10 Linde, G. 15, 159, 277, 282 Loomer, B. 145 Lucacs, G. 9 Marx, K. 8, 28, 279 Maslow, A. 243, 265, 270 Mauss, M. 43f McAfee Brown, R. 21 McAllister, J. 80 McFee, M. 53 McGann, M.E. 39, 57 McLuhan, M. 33 Merleau-Ponty, M. 14, 116, 125–128, 130, 141f, 147, 239, 249, 251 Milbank, J. 29 Miles, M. 20, 26 Mill, J.S. 134, 138 Morgenthaler, C. 16, 213, 277, 282 Nelson, T.J. 55 Neville, R. 104f Ogden, S. 104 Osborne, K.B. 46f Otto, R. 8, 48, 149 Paloutzian, R.F. 268 Pannenberg, W. 86 P’Bitek, O. 189f Peirce, C.S. 15, 96, 159–162, 164–170, 172, 277, 282 Perry, W.G. 266 Pfister, O. 264 Piaget, J. 266–268 Pieterse, H.J.C. 201 Pike, K.L. 94 Power, D.N. 46 Pratt, J.B. 267, 271 Proudfoot, W. 10 Pyysiäinen, I. 90, 196 Rawls, J. 93 Ricoeur, P. 15, 80, 85, 192–195, 197–199, 202, 206, 266, 268

Rosaldo, R. 44 Rosich, K. 15 Ryle, G. 248 Said, E. 47 Saussure, F. 172 Schleiermacher, F.D.E. 8, 10, 86, 146, 160, 186, 279, 283 Schmidt, T.M. 15, 175, 278, 282 Scholtz, C.P. 7, 16, 243, 278, 279, 282 Schütz, A. 14, 116–125, 130 Senn, F. 45 Shweder, R.A. 101 Smith, J.Z. 99, 101 Smith, W.C. 266 Spittler, G.D. 254 Spranger, E. 85 Starbuck, E.D. 261, 264, 267 Stone, B.P. 12, 19, 278, 281 Tanner, K. 26 Taylor, C. 29 Taylor, M.C. 8 Templeton, J. 270f Tillich, P. 21, 86, 144f, 147 Torr, J.D. 19 Troeltsch, E. 85 Turner, V. 43f, 49, 67 Valkenberg, P. 108 van der Ven, J.A. 13, 77, 201, 215, 235, 278, 281 von Weizsäcker, V. 150 Waldenfels, B. 249 Ward, K. 103f Warshow, R. 8 Weber, M. 80, 175 Wiebe, D. 191f, 208 Wiegers, G. 87 Wieman, H.N. 145 Wittgenstein, L. 68, 89, 100 Wulff, D.M. 17, 259, 278, 282 Wyller, T. 14, 115, 278, 281 Young, I.M. 42

List of Contributors Dr. Andrea Bieler is Associate Professor of Christian Worship at Pacific School of Religion and at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, California, USA. Her most recent publications include Gottesdienst interkulturell. Predigen und Gottesdienst feiern im Zwischenraum (2008), and (in cooperation with L. Schottroff) Das Abendmahl. Essen um zu leben (2007), engl. The Eucharist: Bodies, Bread and Resurrection. Dr. Jaco S. Dreyer is Associate Professor in the Department of Practical Theology of the University of South Africa. His current research examines religion and modernisation in sub-Saharan Africa. He is co-author of Is there a God of Human Rights? The Complex Relationship between Human Rights and Religion: A South African Case (2004). Dr. Hans-Günter Heimbrock is Professor of Practical Theology and Religious Education at Goethe-University, Frankfurt/Main, Germany. His main research issues are contextual and empirical theology. His most recent publication is an introduction into Empirical Theology, Einführung in die Empirische Theologie (2007, co-edited with A. Dinter/K. Söderblom). Dr. Timo Heimerdinger is Assistant Professor (Juniorprofessor) of Cultural Anthropology/Volkskunde in the German Institute at Johannes GutenbergUniversity, Mainz, Germany. His current research examines maritime ethnology and parenting culture. His most recent monograph is Der Seemann. Ein Berufsstand und seine kulturelle Inszenierung (1844-2003) (2005). Dr. habil. Gesche Linde teaches Systematic Theology at Goethe-University, Frankfurt/Main, Germany. She presently holds a temporary professorship there. Her major fields are Reformation theology (especially M. Luther), semiotics (especially C.S. Peirce) and American pragmatism. Forthcoming is her thesis Zeichen und Gewissheit. Semiotische Begründung eines protestantisch-theologischen Begriffs. Dr. Dr. Christoph Morgenthaler is Professor of Pastoral Care and Pastoral Psychology in the Department of Theology at the University of Berne, Switzerland. In his current research, he examines family rituals and religious socialisation in families. His most recent monograph is Religiösexistentielle Beratung (2002, with G. Schibler).

278

List of Contributors

Dr. Thomas M. Schmidt is Professor of Philosophy of Religion in the Department of Catholic Theology at Goethe-University, Frankfurt/Main, Germany. His areas of philosophical specialization are philosophy of religion, political philosophy and German idealism. His most recent publications are Scientific Explanation and Religious Beliefs (2005, co-edited with M. Parker) and Religion und Kulturkritik (2006, co-edited with M. LutzBachmann). Dr. Christopher P. Scholtz was lecturer in the Department of Protestant Theology at Goethe-University, Frankfurt/Main, Germany. He is currently doing his practical pastoral training (Vikariat) in Frankfurt. His doctoral thesis on the theological implications of human-robot-interaction Alltag mit künstlichen Wesen. Theologische Implikationen eines Lebens mit subjektsimulierenden Maschinen am Beispiel des Unterhaltungsroboters Aibo will soon be published. Dr. Bryan P. Stone is the E. Stanley Jones Professor of Evangelism at Boston University School of Theology, Boston, Massachusetts, USA. His current research examines the intersections of evangelistic practice and contemporary culture. His most recent monograph is Evangelism After Christendom: The Theology and Practice of Christian Witness (2007). Dr. Johannes A. van der Ven is Professor in Religion and Human Rights at the Radboud University in Nijmegen, The Netherlands. Dr. David M. Wulff is Professor of Psychology at Wheaton College in Norton, Massachusetts, USA. Author of Psychology of Religion: Classic and Contemporary (21997), he is editing a handbook of the psychology of religion for Oxford University Press and preparing for publication his 2007 Edward Cadbury Lectures at the University of Birmingham, UK, on the Mind of the Religious Conservative. Dr. Trygve Wyller is Professor at The Faculty of Theology at the University of Oslo. He is working with systematic theology and the ethical and theological interpretations of Christian social practice. His present research interest aims at phenomenological interpretations of people living on the margins; a recent publication is Heterotopic Diakonia (2006).

Zusammenfassung HANS-GÜNTER HEIMBROCK/CHRISTOPHER P. SCHOLTZ Goethe-Universität, Frankfurt/Main

Zur Grundidee Der vorliegende Band mit dem Titel Religion: Unmittelbare Erfahrung und die Mittelbarkeit der Forschung fokussiert die für die moderne Religionsforschung seit den klassischen Ansätzen von F.D.E Schleiermacher und W. James zentrale Grundspannung zwischen Erfahrung und Erfahrungswissenschaft. Einerseits wird als Kern von Religion seit Jahrhunderten ihr unmittelbares Gegebensein in der persönlichen Erfahrung des Individuums bestimmt, das vor jeder Reflexion und begrifflichen Rekonstruktion liegt. Unmittelbarkeit religiöser Erfahrung galt und gilt quasi als selbstverständlich und stellt eine Bezugnahme auf eine nicht-hinterfragte Alltagslogik der eigenen Glaubenserfahrung dar. Eine solche Berufung auf die eigene Erfahrung kann sowohl dazu genutzt werden, sich vor externen theologischen Autoritäten zu schützen, als auch dazu, sich dem Rechtfertigungszwang vor dem Forum der Vernunft zu widersetzen. In der Geschichte westlicher Religion kann die Berufung auf die Unmittelbarkeit nicht als ein naiver Standpunkt von ungebildeten Gläubigen abgetan werden. Der direkte Kontakt zur Gottheit wird auch in prominenten theologischen und philosophischen Ansätzen als Zentrum von Religion betrachtet. Dieser Unmittelbarkeitsanspruch religiöser Erfahrung hat auch im 20. Jahrhundert großen Einfluss ausgeübt, was sich an einzelnen Traditionen der philosophischen Hermeneutik ebenso nachweisen lässt wie in bestimmten Ausprägungen der Religionsphänomenologie. Andererseits gibt es eine breite Tradition, dieser These der Unmittelbarkeit zu widersprechen. Die Grundlinie der philosophischen Kritik lässt sich mindestens bis zu Hegels Ablehnung jedweder Unmittelbarkeitspostulate zurückverfolgen und findet sich auch in der Marx’schen Ideologiekritik. Die Berufung auf Erfahrung als Signatur moderner Wissenschaft hat gerade darin ihre Pointe, „Erfahrungswissenschaft“ als kritische Brechung naiver religiöser Unmittelbarkeit zu betreiben. Sowohl die Sozialwissenschaften als auch die moderne empirische Forschung zu Religionen und religiöser Erfahrung standen von ihren ersten Anfängen an in deutlicher Gegnerschaft zur Unmittelbarkeit. So baute beispielsweise zu Beginn des 20. Jahrhun-

280

Hans-Günter Heimbrock/Christopher P. Scholtz

derts die empirische Analyse von Religion innerhalb der neu entstandenen Disziplin Psychologie auf einem positivistischen methodischen Grund auf und war von einer kritischen Voreingenommenheit gegenüber der internen Perspektive des Gläubigen geprägt. Frühe empirische Untersuchungen zur Religion, oftmals von atheistischer Voreingenommenheit begleitet, versuchten den Wahrheitsanspruch des unmittelbaren religiösen Bewusstseins eines Subjekts in nichtreligiöse, intersubjektive soziale Gegebenheiten und kausale Zusammenhänge aufzulösen. Der positivistische Ansatz der frühen empirischen Religionsforschung blieb mit seinen theoretischen Modellen lange Zeit bestimmend für die Standards einer als wirklich „akademisch“ geltenden Analyse religiöser Erfahrung, auch wenn die methodische Konfrontation im Laufe 20. Jahrhunderts zunehmend an Schärfe verlor. Daraus resultiert die bis heute offene Grundfrage: Wie kann unmittelbar erlebte religiöse Erfahrung theoretisch so beschrieben und kritisch eingeordnet werden, dass sie im Verlauf der begrifflichen Rekonstruktion und der Analyse nicht abhanden kommt? Mit dieser Frage befasst sich der vorliegende Band, der durch ein Symposium mit dem Titel Phenomenon and Experience. Interdisciplinary Symposium on Empirical Research in Religion (Phänomen und Erfahrung. Interdisziplinäres Symposium zur empirischen Religionsforschung) angeregt wurde. Diese Konferenz fand im Rahmen des Promotionsprogramms Religion im Dialog im Oktober 2005 an der Johann Wolfgang Goethe-Universität Frankfurt statt. Eingeladen waren Wissenschaftler aus verschiedenen europäischen Ländern, den USA und Südafrika, die als Vertreter der Fächer Theologie, Philosophie, Religionspsychologie, Religionsphilosophie, Religionswissenschaft und Kulturanthropologie an der Diskussion teilnahmen. Hauptanliegen der Konferenz war, Beiträge zur wissenschaftlichen Religionsforschung zu liefern, und zwar in doppelter Hinsicht. Einerseits wurden Ansätze präsentiert, die bestimmte materiale Ausschnitte empirisch orientierter Forschung analysierten. Andererseits gab es Beiträge zu methodologischen und philosophischen Fragen. Bei beiden Zugängen ging es darum, den spezifischen Charakter empirischer Religionsforschung zwischen Theologie, Kultur- und Sozialwissenschaften herauszuarbeiten. Die verschiedenen Kapitel des Bandes nehmen die Diskussion des Frankfurter Symposiums auf, präsentieren jedoch eine vertiefte Auseinandersetzung, in mehreren Fällen handelt es sich sogar um völlig neue Beiträge. Aus der Perspektive verschiedener Disziplinen rekonstruieren sie grundlegende methodische Optionen für qualitative und quantitative empirische Forschungszugänge zur religiösen Erfahrung.

Zusammenfassung

281

Zum Inhalt des Bandes Der Band mit seinen zwölf Beiträgen in vier Sektionen beginnt mit einer Einleitung, die eine problemgeschichtliche Skizze zur spannungsreichen Doppelthese von „Unmittelbarkeit der Erfahrung“ und „Mittelbarkeit der Forschung“ liefert.

Sektion 1: Religion, Kultur und Kulturtheorie Sektion 1 greift kulturelle Phänomene und Konzepte avancierter Kulturtheorie auf, um grundsätzliche und spezifisch theologische Perspektiven darzustellen. Dabei wird deutlich, dass Lebensformen und Modi der Erfahrung in einer mediendominierten Kultur dem Problem der Unmittelbarkeit nicht neutral gegenüberstehen. Der methodistische Praktische Theologe BRYAN P. STONE (Boston University, USA) beschreibt Die Bedeutung der populären Kultur für die empirische Forschung in der Praktischen Theologie. Die evangelische Theologin und Spezialistin für christlichen Gottesdienst ANDREA BIELER (Pacific School of Religion, Berkeley, USA) nennt ihren Beitrag Inkorporiertes Wissen. Zum Verständnis von religiöser Erfahrung im Ritual. Der Kulturanthropologe TIMO HEIMERDINGER (Universität Mainz) erläutert die Alltagskulturforschung und die Herausforderung der Unmittelbarkeit. Theoretische und methodologische Zugänge aus der Perspektive der Kulturanthropologie/Volkskunde.

Sektion 2: Zur Forschungslogik Empirischer Theologie Sektion 2 enthält drei Beiträge, welche die Grundlagen und Ziele des empirischen Auftrags von Theologie und Religionstheorie aus unterschiedlichen Perspektiven diskutieren. Der katholische Theologe JOHANNES A. VAN DER VEN (Radboud-Universität Nijmegen, Niederlande) erörtert Reflektierte Komparativität in der Religionsforschung. Ein kognitiver Ansatz. Der evangelische Theologe und Spezialist für Ethik und Diakoniewissenschaft TRYGVE WYLLER (Universität Oslo, Norwegen) befasst sich mit der Kategorie der Andersheit in einer leibhaftigen Kirche. Der Einfluss der Phänomenologie auf die Untersuchung christlicher Sozialarbeit. Der evangelische Praktische Theologe HANS-GÜNTER HEIMBROCK (Universität Frankfurt/ Main) widmet sich der Rekonstruktion Gelebter Religion.

282

Hans-Günter Heimbrock/Christopher P. Scholtz

Sektion 3: Zur Diskussion des Erfahrungsbegriffs Sektion 3 reflektiert epistemologische und kulturtheoretische Voraussetzungen, die auf den Prüfstand zu stellen sind, wenn Forscher und Forscherinnen versuchen, gültige und umfassende wissenschaftliche Aussagen über religiöse Erfahrung zu machen. Die evangelische Dogmatikerin und Religionsphilosophin GESCHE LINDE (Universität Frankfurt/Main) entfaltet Erfahrung als Interpretation: Ein Peirce’scher Ansatz für Praktische Theologie. Der Religionsphilosoph THOMAS M. SCHMIDT (Universität Frankfurt/ Main) erörtert Überlegungen zu Der semantische Gehalt religiösen Glaubens und seine säkulare Übersetzung. Jürgen Habermas’ Konzept religiöser Erfahrung. Der evangelische Praktische Theologe JACO S. DREYER (University of South Africa, Pretoria, Südafrika) fokussiert in seinem Kapitel das Thema Partizipation und Distanzierung in der Religionsforschung.

Sektion 4: Zur Klärung der Forschungsmethoden Sektion 4 präsentiert Herausforderungen und Probleme der Forschung zu religiöser Erfahrung aus theologischer und psychologischer Perspektive. Die Beiträge zeigen, wie stark methodische Entscheidungen und die Konzeption dieses spezifischen Forschungsobjektes miteinander verwoben sind. Der evangelische Praktische Theologe CHRISTOPH MORGENTHALER (Universität Bern, Schweiz) liefert Überlegungen zu Qualitative, quantitative und phänomenologische Zugänge zur Erfahrung – komplementär und entgegengesetzt. Empirisch-theologische Reflexionen ausgehend von einem Forschungsprojekt zu Familienritualen. Der evangelische Praktische Theologe CHRISTOPHER P. SCHOLTZ (Universität Frankfurt/Main) widmet seinen Beitrag dem Thema Das Selbstverständliche erforschen. Methodologische Reflexionen im Kontext religiöser Erfahrung. Der Religionspsychologe DAVID M. WULFF (Wheaton College, Norton, MA, USA) präsentiert einen Überblick zu Empirische Religionsforschung: Perspektiven der Religionspsychologie.

Zum Ansatz des Bandes im Rahmen der Praktischen Theologie In der Zusammenschau wird deutlich, dass der interdisziplinär angelegte Band in besonderer Weise Forschungsfragen der Praktischen Theologie

Zusammenfassung

283

aufnimmt. Es war wahrscheinlich kein Zufall, dass der theoretische Advokat der religiösen Unmittelbarkeit, Schleiermacher, einer der ersten Gelehrten war, die der methodisch geleiteten Forschung zu religiöser Erfahrung als religiöser Praxis besondere Aufmerksamkeit schenkten. Er beschrieb die spezielle Aufgabe und den theoretischen Anspruch eines eigenen Zweigs innerhalb der Theologie in einer bis heute gültigen Fassung. Die Disziplin der Praktischen Theologie war so von Anfang an eng mit den Problemen der empirischen Religionsforschung verbunden und hat sich in den letzten Jahrzehnten nicht zuletzt durch die Rezeption von sozial- und kulturwissenschaftlichen Ansätzen zu einer Schaltstelle zwischen allen in diesem Band vertretenden Disziplinen entwickelt.

Religion, Theologie und Naturwissenschaft / Religion, Theology and Natural Science (RThN) Band 10: Philip D. Clayton Die Frage nach der Freiheit

Band 9: Anne L.C. Runehov Sacred or Neural?

Biologie, Kultur und die Emergenz des Geistes in der Welt

The Potential of Neuroscience to Explain Religious Experience

Herausgegeben von Michael G. Parker und Thomas M. Schmidt. Aus dem Englischen von Erwin Fink. 2007. Ca. 195 Seiten mit 13 Abb., gebunden ISBN 978-3-525-56981-8

2007. 240 Seiten mit 5 Abbildungen, gebunden ISBN 978-3-525-56980-1

Erzwingen die Fortschritte der Neurowissenschaften die Verabschiedung oder die radikale Revision bisheriger fundamentaler philosophischer und theologischer Überzeugungen in Bezug auf die Freiheit und die Verantwortlichkeit des Menschen? Implizieren diese Forschungsergebnisse einen strengen Determinismus, oder wäre darin eine Fehlinterpretation empirischer Daten zu sehen? Worin kann der Beitrag der modernen Theologie zu dieser Diskussion bestehen, sofern sie die affektive Grundlage des religiösen Glaubens thematisiert? Im Rahmen der ersten Staffel der Frankfurt Templeton Lectures zu dem Thema »Beherrscht die Materie den Geist? Neurowissenschaften und Willensfreiheit« hat Philip D. Clayton im Sommersemester 2006 sechs Vorlesungen gehalten, deren Manuskripte jetzt überarbeitet in Buchform vorliegen. Science deeply challenges classical descriptions of the human person as »free« and as »spirit«. This survey of contemporary neuroscience and evolutionary biology explores why these challenges have arisen. At the same time it finds in the religious dimension of human existence powerful resources for speaking of the »Emergenz des Geistes« and of a deeper sense of human freedom.

Es beginnt schon mit der Definition: Was ist ein religiöses Erlebnis? Was lediglich der Kurzschluss synaptischer Verbindungen in unserem Gehirn? Wo verläuft die Grenze? Welche Erlebnisse dürften als »göttlich«, welche als rein neuronal gelten? Auf den Spuren Michael Persingers, Andrew Newbergs und Eugene d’Aquilis geht die Autorin der Frage nach, ob und zu welchem Grad Neurowissenschaftler religiöse Erlebnisse überhaupt erklären können. Sie grenzt den Begriff »religiöses Erlebnis« definitorisch ab und entwickelt verschiedene Kriterien zur Beurteilung naturwissenschaftlicher Forschung, speziell zur Einschätzung der Güte stark reduktionistischer Untersuchungen. Runehov kommt zu dem Ergebnis, dass die Perspektiven nicht ausschließlich zu denken sind, sondern einander fruchtbar ergänzen können. Das birgt großes Potential für interdisziplinäre Forschung und Dialog, bei dem nicht von »sacred or neural«, sondern »sacred and neural« geredet werden müsste. Are religious spiritual experiences merely the product of the human nervous system? Anne L.C. Runehov investigates the potential of contemporary neuroscience to explain religious experiences.