Income inequality is emerging as the socioeconomic topic of our era. Yet there is no clear conclusion as to how income inequality affects the most comprehensive human outcome measure, subjective well-being. This study provides an explanation for the relationship between income inequality and SWB, by delving into its mechanisms, including egalitarian preferences, perceived fairness, social comparison concerns, as well as perceived social mobility. In a rigorous analysis using a large cross-country dataset, and accounting for the nested structure of the data, (...) as well as controlling for a variety of individual and country characteristics, we find that SWB is higher where income inequality is higher. Importantly, we also find support for this relationship being moderated by perceptions of poverty being caused by unfairness, an individual’s relative socioeconomic standing, as well as beliefs about hard work leading to success. Our study highlights the dire need for further scholarly attention to income inequality and its complex effects on SWB. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Frederick J. Streng Book Award:An Interview with Paul Ingram and Sallie KingSallie B. King and Paul O. IngramSallie King and Paul Ingram have been named winners of the 2003 Frederick J. Streng Book Award for their edited collection The Sound of Liberating Truth: Buddhist-Christian Dialogues in Honor of Frederick J. Streng (Curzon, 1999). Sallie King is professor of philosophy and religion at James Madison University in Harrisonburg,Virginia. Paul (...) Ingram is professor of religion at Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma,Washington. Both are past presidents of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies. There is some irony that they have won this award named after Fred Streng, one of the founders of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies, for a volume that is a essentially a festschrift honoring the work of Fred Streng. Following is an edited interview with both of the winners.Buddhist-Christian Studies: What made each of you want to put together this collection of essays?Paul Ingram: Before I met Fred at the first "East-West Religions in Encounter" meeting organized by David Chappell in 1980 in Hawai'i, I was well acquainted with his work in history of religions. Fred by this time was recognized as one of the most important scholars in the field, and I deeply admired his work, particularly his book on Nagarjuna. As it turns out, he had read some of my work on Pure Land Buddhism and was as interested in meeting me as I was in meeting him. We became friends and colleagues. Because of our mutual interest in interreligious dialogue in general and in Buddhism in particular, he suggested that we should co-edit a volume of selected papers from the 1980 conference. This volume, Buddhist-Christian Dialogue: Mutual Renewal and Transformation, was subsequentlypublishedby the Universityof Hawai'i Press in 1986 and is still in print.Sallie King: I had long admired Fred's book on Nagarjuna, which uniquely and powerfullyopenedup the religiousmeaningof Nagarjuna'swork.I later metFred through the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies and discovered that this admirable scholar was also a most admirable human being. We had lengthy, in-depth conversations when our paths crossed at various conferences. After Fred died, David Chappell, who had become the president of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies, suggested to Paul and me that we edit a volume of this kind in honor of Fred. Neither Paul nor I hesitated. For my part, I felt such a loss when Fred died that I was very happy [End Page 313] and honored to have this opportunity to make a gesture of respect and gratitude toFred.Besides his obvious scholarly achievements, what were Fred Streng's other gifts?PI: Fred was always generous in his support of colleagues. Many of us in the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies are where we are professionally because of Fred's celebration of our work in all its diversity. He was one of the founding members of the Society, and he worked long and hard to make it a place for not only scholarly Buddhist-Christian encounter, but also a venue for nonspecialists to engage in Buddhist-Christian dialogue. All of us have been creatively transformed by Fred's work. After Fred's death in 1993, David Chappell invited Sallie and me to co-edit a volume of essays to honor Fred's memory and celebrate his work. We did so gladly and without reservation.SK: Fred was a very balanced person who had seriously engaged with all the important areas of human life. He was profoundly spiritual, seriously concerned about social issues, unfailingly kind and generous to others. Though he was at the top of his field, he remained straightforward and natural and always met even far-junior scholars as equals; he could not have been more encouraging and supportive. His spirituality, his scholarship, his engagement with social issues and his caring for others were all interdependent, mutually constructive of who he was and of his various projects.Were assignments for the book difficult to make?PI: The most difficult problem was selecting who to invite. Sallie and I identified five themes in Fred's scholarship, and we needed... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 21.1 (2001) iii-iv [Access article in PDF] Editorial In this issue we publish a collection of articles using a dialogue format that we began in volume 19 of Buddhist-Christian Studies. Those articles, eventually published as the book Buddhists Talk About Jesus,Christians Talk About the Buddha (Continuum, 2000), asked Christians and Buddhists to critique the founder of the other religion. The format proved successful and provoked some good (...) methodological discussion (see Ingram, p. 75 ff).Thus, in this issue we continue the format with a new question: how have you used and/or learned from the meditative and prayer practices of the other tradition? The assignment drew enthusiastic response, especially from Christians who were asked to write about their experiences of Buddhist meditation. We are publishing five articles by Frances Adeney, Mary Frolich, Paul Ingram, Terry Muck, and Bardwell Smith, along with responses by two Buddhists--Grace Burford and Robert Thurman.In our next issue (volume 22), we will publish articles by five Buddhist authors and two Christian respondents. We will be interested to see if these articles give us clues as to why Christians were more eager to take on this assignment than were Buddhists.In compiling this collection of articles, we made three observations related to good interreligious interchanges. The first is that this form of dialogue requires a good deal of trust among the participants. Talking candidly about important features of the other person's religion runs the risk of offense.Yet the way the writers and respondents--mostly longtime members of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies--wrote indicates that trust is developing.Of course, trust is essential for any kind of healthy dialogue. The reason for the development of interreligious dialogue in this century has been as a response to the level of destructive criticism so common to interchanges among adherents of the world's religions. To address this unacceptable level of conflict, it was necessary to step back and consciously adapt a stance of silent humility about and toward the religious other. As the dialogue movement developed, conversations began to punctuate the silence, conversations that hopefully demonstrated openness, understanding our mutual pasts and intertwined futures. Years of this kind of openness leading to understanding makes it possible to enter into a new era of dialogue, the era of constructive criticism made up of equal parts of honest commentary and unequivocal support.We have moved through this idealized paradigm of responses very imperfectly, of course. The level of destructive conflict is still unacceptably high, silent humility is [End Page iii] in sometimes short supply, openness drowned out by self-interest, and constructive criticism imperfectly practiced. Yet we must move forward, experiencing flashes of epiphany and enlightenment as humility, openness, and mutuality ride the wings of developing trust.The second observation--more a realization, actually--is that this form of interreligious interchange requires a high level of sophistication about religions other than one's own. It is hard to pin down the exact nature of this sophistication. It is not just knowledge about the other's religion that is required, although it is partly that. One cannot comment effectively about Buddhist meditation unless one has a certain fundamental understanding of what Buddhist meditation is. Christian prayer is not easy to define, but certain features of the practice are universally recognized among both theologians and practitioners. To conduct the kind of mutual evaluation asked for in this type of dialogue, basic levels of understanding are necessary.The dialogue as we envision it, however, goes beyond knowledge. In our letter of invitation to participants, we made it clear that we were also interested in writers who had some experience with the other religion's spiritual practice. As we received and evaluated submissions, it became clear that what gave the essays power and authority was the mixture of knowledge and experience of the others' spiritual practice. As you will see, it wasn't always the case that our writers had adapted meditative or prayer practice wholesale. But invariably their experience gained through learning about the practice led to changes: deeper, richer practice in their own tradition.This... (shrink)

Theodor Adorno’s philistine functions as the other of art, or as the ideal embodiment of everything that the bourgeois aesthetic subject is not. He insists on the truth-content of the derogation, while recognising its unjust social foundation, and seeking to reflect that tension in a self-critical turn. His model of advanced art is negatively delimited by the philistinism of art with a cause and the philistinism of art for enjoyment, which represent the poles of the aesthetic and the social. The (...) philistine is also the counterpart to the connoisseur, with the interplay between them pointing to his preferred approach to aesthetics, in which an affinity for art and alienness to it are combined without compromise. However, Adorno fails to realise fully the critical potential of the philistine as the immanent negation of art and aesthetics. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Buddhists and Christians Through Comparative Theology and SolidarityPaul O. IngramBuddhists and Christians Through Comparative Theology and Solidarity. By James L. Fredericks. Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2004. xiv + 134 pp.This elegantly written book is not only a call to Christians to act in solidarity with persons of other faith traditions as well as persons professing no religious identity inmatters of social, economic, and ecological injustice. It is also (...) a challenge posed directly to Christians to create new forms of interreligious solidarity that can empower political and social solidarity with other religious communities. Of course, interreligious solidarity requires interreligious dialogue, but Fredericks seeks to [End Page 223] deepen the Christian theological underpinnings of interreligious dialogue by delineating a model of theology of religions that moves beyond the usual exclusivist, inclusivist, and pluralist models. He calls this model "comparative theology of religions."Given the fact of religious pluralism that necessitates living out one's own particular faith tradition surrounded by faithful persons who religiously dwell in other faith traditions, and given the emerging realities of globalization, no religious tradition can remain in isolation from any other religious tradition nor from the growing secularization that challenges persons of faith wherever persons of faith are found on this planet. The issue is not the emergence of a new global religion that will supercede Buddhism, Christianity, Islam, Judaism, or Hinduism. Fredericks argues that the contrary is the case: as globalization and secularization erodes national, civic, and religious identity everywhere, interreligious solidarity that does not wash over the diversity of religious traditions becomes more important as a source of personal and communal identity, meaning, and purpose.Since the meaning of "solidarity" depends on how one understands the practice of interreligious dialogue and the theological models through which interreligious dialogue is practiced, Fredericks expends much effort describing and critiquing the exclusivist, inclusivist, and pluralist models of theology of religions. Strictly speaking, as Fredericks notes, "theology of religions" is not an issue for other religious traditions. Appropriating the words of Martin Luther, "this is most certainly true." Given the universal claims of Christian theology about the significance of the Incarnation and the notion that Christ is the only way to salvation, non-Christian traditions do not face the same exclusivist or inclusivist issues in their dialogues with other religious persons. This traditional Christian claim makes theology of religions a distinctively Christian problem.Fredericks's main criticism of exclusivist and inclusivist theologies are that both models are "replacement theologies" because (1) they either argue for the "replacement" of all non-Christian traditions with a form of Christian tradition, either Catholic or some form of Protestant tradition, or (2) they replace non-Christian traditions by assuming that what is good and true in these traditions is found most completely in Christian tradition. Much Protestant theology is exclusivist, and the current theological stance of Roman Catholicism is inclusivist. Both approaches are thoroughly nondialogical and thereby incapable of promoting Christian solidarity with non-Christians, and Fredericks's arguments in this regard are exceptionally cogent.But the trouble with pluralist theologies of religion, Fredericks argues, is that they "require Christians to recognize that Jesus is not the full revelation of God to the World. God is always more. Christians need to pay attention to other religious traditions in order to learn more of God" (p. 9). The idea of the incompleteness of God's revelation in Jesus doesn't make this revelation less true. But theological pluralism does make it difficult for Christians to be faithful to the depth and fullness of Christian faith and experience. In so doing, it fosters a debilitating theological relativism that often falsifies both Christian traditions and the non-Christian traditions with which one is engaged in dialogue. Given the relativist theology inherent in pluralist [End Page 224] theologies, it is difficult to see, Fredericks concludes, how theological pluralism can promote interreligious solidarity.So how should Christians understand the nature of religious pluralism and thereby enter into dialogue with faithful non-Christians in order to create religious solidarity, a sort of unity in diversity that aids all religious persons in confronting issues of injustice that are not religion-specific and haunt all religious human... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian-Science Dialogue at the BoundariesPaul O. IngramMuch of the discussion in current science-religion dialogue focuses on "limit" or "boundary" questions.1 In the natural sciences, boundary questions are questions that arise in scientific research that cannot be answered by scientific methods. Boundary questions arise because of (1) the intentional limit of scientific methods of investigation to extremely narrow bits of physical processes while ignoring wider bodies of experience, as well (...) as (2) the resulting incompetence of scientific methods when applied to aesthetic, moral, and religious experiences. Furthermore, scientific theoretical constructions are intentionally falsifiable. Often scientific theories themselves require further theoretical explanation. For example, Isaac Newton (1642-1727) proposed a theory of gravity as a general explanation of the motion of terrestrial objects—such as falling objects like apples—and of the orbits of planets in the solar system. But Newton was unable to offer an explanatory theory of gravity itself and was deeply troubled by the notion of "action at a distance," which he believed was intrinsically impossible. Albert Einstein's (1879-1955) general theory of relativity, although maintaining Newton's three laws of motion, fills in this gap in Newton's theory by explaining gravity as the warping of space occupied by objects such as planets, stars, and galaxies rather than action at a distance.In other words, boundary questions create methodological and conceptual constraints that often lead to deeper knowledge of the universe's physical structures. At the same time, boundary questions also tend to engender metaphysical questions along with scientific questions. For example, standard Big Bang theory about the origins of the universe imposes a temporal boundary that constrains what cosmologists can know about the universe. Why is there a universe at all? The standard response is that cosmologists can describe how the universe originated with a high degree of probability, but are ignorant, or at least agnostic, about why the universe exists. Here, a boundary question generated by the application of scientific methods in cosmology generates a metaphysical question cosmology is incapable of answering. Whenever this happens, an opening is created for science-religion dialogue in general, and a science-Buddhist-Christian "trilogue" in particular.But boundary questions are not limited to the natural sciences. Religious questions [End Page 165] incapable of solution through the application of theological or philosophical methods arise at the boundaries engendered by what Joseph Campbell (1904-1987) called "the universals of human experience," meaning experiences all human beings undergo no matter what their cultural or religious environments might be. For example, the experience of suffering raises the theodicy problem for classical Christian theism. How can a loving, omnipotent creator of the universe permit unmerited suffering? Here, the assertion of God's creative power and love creates a boundary question that cannot be resolved apart from rethinking the nature of God, as in process theology.Anxiety and confrontation with death, as well as experiences of beauty, joy, hunger, fear, hope, and anger, and the need for community are also examples of universals of human experience. Buddhists and Christians theoretically interpret the meaning of such experiences according to their particular texts, doctrinal formulations, and practice traditions. Similarly, the work done by scientists is influenced by their cultural contexts, although on a shorter-term basis than is the case with religions. As in the natural sciences, religious constructs are also theory laden, so that neither Christian theology nor Buddhist philosophy can claim complete knowledge. What, exactly, is the nature of God? What, exactly, is Awakening? The standard Christian and Buddhist responses are that God or Awakening are ultimately beyond human thought because both transcend anything human beings can imagine them to be, or not to be.Still, boundary constraints do not imply that significant and reliable knowledge is impossible in the sciences or in Buddhist or Christian thought. To conclude that scientists, Buddhists, or Christians cannot achieve complete knowledge via scientific method, the practice of Buddhist philosophy, or the practice of Christian theological reflection because of boundary constraints does not imply that the sciences have not amassed an incredible body of reliable knowledge about physical reality, or that Buddhists and Christians have not accumulated large bodies of reliable knowledge... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Martin Luther and Buddhism: The Aesthetics of SufferingPaul O. IngramMartin Luther and Buddhism: The Aesthetics of Suffering. By Paul S. Chung. Eugene, OR: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2002. 434 pp.As a member of the Lutheran community (Evangelical Lutheran Church in America), I am struck by the fact that Lutheran theologians—referred to as "teaching theologians" when employed by Lutheran seminaries—seem little interested in religious pluralism in general and interreligious (...) dialogue in particular. There are important exceptions, of course, one being Donald Luck of Trinity Lutheran Seminary in Ohio. And the most intense and coherent dialogue between Christians and Muslims now taking place in the United States is located at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, Minnesota. But by and large, Lutheran theology seems unengaged with the realities of religious pluralism. Rather than dialogue, "missionology" is the focus of most Lutheran theological encounter with the world religions, which means that most Lutheran conversation with religious pluralism is best characterized as monologue.It's different for most Lutherans sitting in the pews of local congregations. Most lay persons understand that they must live their faith contextualized by their religiously plural neighborhoods. Lutheran laity are interested the religious practices and worldviews of their neighbors because they are in contact with their neighbors everyday. They desire to meet and know the religious "other" not as "other," but as fellow human beings seeking to live in community. My distinct impression, gained [End Page 235] from teaching adult education courses in local congregations (mostly Lutheran and other mainline denominations), is that Christian lay people are usually miles ahead of their pastors, denominational leaders, and teaching theologians in their encounter with the realities of religious pluralism and their desire for dialogue. For these reasons, Paul S. Chung's book, Martin Luther and Buddhism, is important, and I hope it will be the beginning of specifically Lutheran dialogue with the Buddhist tradition. Again, as a Lutheran, I can only say, "It's about time."Chung's goal is twofold: (1) engaging in critical dialogue with the theology of Martin Luther, and (2) Asian pluralistic theology of religions. Specifically, the author, himself a Korean Lutheran pastor and theologian, places Luther's theology of the Cross in dialogue with Buddhist understanding of suffering (duh.kha). His thesis is that what Christianity and Buddhism have in common is their understanding of suffering, albeit each tradition having different approaches and "solutions" to universal suffering. Accordingly, rereading Luther's theology of the Cross in dialogue with Buddhism's take on suffering, its causes, and its resolution is the center of Chung's hermeneutical approach to Luther.Surely, Chung is on the right track. Buddhism's focus on the experience of universal suffering and its resolution is one of its defining features. Chung's reason for placing Luther's theology of the Cross in dialogue with Buddhism lies mainly in the fact that Luther focused on the suffering of God on the cross incarnated in the suffering of the historical Jesus, which he placed in direct contrast to the "theology of glory" of medieval scholastic theology. Chung's claim is that Luther's understanding of divine suffering is a "liberation theology" that needs be contextualized by contemporary struggle for social, economic, ecological, and women's liberation from systemic structures of injustice. Because justice issues are not religion-specific, Luther's theology of the Cross in socially engaged dialogue with Buddhism should be a source of liberation for both Christians and Buddhists.Chung's work stands in a long line of Asian Christians seeking to translate Christian teachings and practices into the religious traditions foundational to Asian cultures, in Chung's case Korean Buddhism and, to some degree, Confucianism. One immediately thinks of Aloysius Pieris's dialogue with Buddhism in Sri Lanka, Seiichi Yagi and Masaaki Honda's appropriation of Mahayana doctrines in their attempts to relate Christian faith to Japanese cultural experience, or Raimundo Panikkar's interpretation of Christian faith through the lenses of Hinduism and Buddhism. All ofthese theologians note that Anglo-European intellectual and cultural traditions are not easily translatable into Asian cultural experience. Because Western forms of Christian tradition are foreign to Asian cultural values... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 21.1 (2001) 43-50 [Access article in PDF] On the Practice of Faith: A Lutheran's Interior Dialogue with Buddhism Paul O. Ingram Pacific Lutheran University I earn my living practicing the craft of history of religions. In Lutheran theological language, this is my "calling" and "vocation." I know this to be true because of how I was first opened to an amazing world of religious pluralism nearly forty (...) years ago during my first undergraduate history of religions course. I am still amazed by this world and at times stunned to silence. The history of religions continues to inform my self-understanding and has recently become for me a primary mode of theological reflection and practice that intensely energizes both my exterior conceptual dialogue with Buddhist doctrine and teaching and my interior dialogue with Buddhist meditative practice. 1So my vocation is teaching an academic field of inquiry I love to young people as I engage in research and writing. I am paid for doing this by a university related to the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America that bills itself as a "new American university" located in one of the most culturally pluralistic and beautiful regions in the United States.While I'm not sure what a "new American university" is, I am certain I have a great gig. I am equally convinced that my professional life constitutes for me some of the evidence of the grace that Christian tradition in general--and Luther's theology in particular--describe as flowing "in, with, and under" this universe like a waterfall, like a tidal wave.Admittedly, all this is highly confessional, perhaps too confessional, for a scholar's essay on how reflection on Buddhist traditions of practice has informed his practice. Yet when it comes down to it, all theological reflection--as well as the discipline of practice itself--is confessional. We can only write about our particular interior journey as it is informed by the particular community of faith that gives context to our practice, for it is not probable that most persons can be religious in general, but only in particular. 2 After all, Carmelite nuns do not ordinarily seek or experience nonduality with the Buddha Nature, nor do Buddhist nuns ordinarily seek or experience interior union with Christ the Bridegroom.Yet sometimes a few historians of religions and a few Christian theologians and Buddhist philosophers are able to participate in communities of faith and practice other than their own. This too seems to me a sign of grace. [End Page 43]I have learned two lessons from interior dialogue with Buddhists as this shakes out in my particular practice. First, our interior journeys lead us through time--forward and back, seldom in a straight line, most often in spirals. Each of us is moving and changing in relationship to others and to the world, and, if one is grasped by Christian faith, to God, or if grasped by Buddhist faith (srada), the Dharma. 3 As we discover what our interior journeys teach us, we remember; remembering, we discover; and most intensely do we discover when our separate journeys converge. It is at spots of Christian and Buddhist convergence that I have experienced the most dramatic and creatively transformative processes of interreligious dialogue.Second, as a Lutheran it strikes me as a bit glib to suggest that the focus of practice is "God" or, if Buddhist, "Emptiness," because I often feel intellectually and emotionally blindsided by what people who practice mean by these words. The question, always an epistemological one, is what do these terms mean as we practice whatever we practice. Plenty of theological-philosophical propositions can be strung together to answer this question, and, I think, it is important to guide practice by theological-philosophical reflection. But we must never cling to belief in propositions, because the moment we do, they will hide the reality to which they point. Conceptualizing and believing in rational propositions is a necessary beginning because it is a form of"faith seeking understanding." But faith is never, in... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reply to Sandra Costen Kunz's "Respecting the Boundaries of Knowledge"Paul O. IngramI am gratified by Sandra Costen Kunz's application of my thoughts on boundary constraints and my call for a Buddhist-Christian-science "trilogue" to her work in spiritual formation within the context of Protestant theological education. Over the past fifteen years I have witnessed numerous examples of what process theologians call "creative transformation" in contemporary science-religion dialogue. To this date, (...) creative transformation has occurred mainly among Christian theologians involved in this particular dialogue. But Buddhists are now beginning to engage the natural sciences in serious conversation. Most of this conversation is with the neurosciences because of Buddhism's strong emphasis on meditation and the fact that the physical realities described in scientific theory imply that nature—from the level of quantum events to the larger-scale structures of the universe—is interdependent and "empty" of permanency. I have argued, as has Kunz, that the New Testament reflects this same view of existence. But it is also true that classical Christian theological tradition, which presupposes Aristotelian and Neo-Platonic substance categories, is in conflict with biblical anthropology and portrayals of God. Process theology, science-theology dialogue, and Buddhist-Christian dialogue have clarified the biblical foundations of Christian faith apart from classical theism, at least among Christian liberal theologians. In my view, it is now time to deepen the process of creative transformation occurring in Buddhist-Christian dialogue by including the natural sciences as a third dialogical partner.Kunz's essay is an example of possibilities of creative transformation and dialogical engagement with the sciences; in her case, the cognitive sciences and Buddhism. She notes that in similarity with most theologians, most scientists are caught up in a Cartesian mind-body dualism. The result is that scientific accounts of mental processes tend to reduce subjective experience to the physical processes occurring in regions of the brain coupled with ignoring what meditators actually say they are experiencing, which scientists sometimes hold to be epiphenomenal. Kunz does not accept this dualism because it not only misrepresents reality, it undercuts the disciplines of spiritual discernment. She argues that combining third-person cognitive [End Page 187] scientific accounts of subjective experiences with Buddhist or Christian first-person descriptions of what is experienced in the disciplines of meditation or contemplative prayer offers a more comprehensive, more accurate account of meditative and contemplative experience. B. Alan Wallace draws a similar conclusion in regard to Buddhist meditation.1Although acknowledging that Christians have much to learn from Buddhist "discernment practices," distinctively Christian forms of meditation are rooted in the conviction that God's nature as love proclaimed by the historical Jesus is active in any situation. Kunz notes that Christian processes of spiritual discernment engendered by centering and contemplative prayer can be described as "making decisions" that correspond to the sorts of decisions the historical Jesus is portrayed as making in the New Testament: unselfish decisions for the common good. This means that authentic Christian faith is experienced and lived at the boundaries of ordinary conventional concerns. Or, to paraphrase Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-1945), when God as Jesus experienced God calling a person, God calls that person to his or her death. Sometimes an actual death, but always to life lived at the boundaries beyond mere conventionality. As a Lutheran, I can only agree.Paul O. IngramPacific Lutheran University (Emeritus)note1. B. Alan Wallace, Hidden Dimensions: The Unification of Physics and Consciousness (New York: Columbia University Press, 2007). [End Page 188]Copyright © 2011 University of Hawai'i Press... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 22 (2002) 214-217 [Access article in PDF] Book Review Toward a Contemporary Understanding of Pure Land Buddhism: Creating a Shin Buddhist Theology in a Religiously Plural World Toward a Contemporary Understanding of Pure Land Buddhism: Creating a Shin Buddhist Theology in a Religiously Plural World. Edited by Dennis Hirota. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2000. 257 pp. One of the lessons I learned from Martin (...) Luther is about "vocation." Basically, one's "vocation" is to express love and compassion toward all through engagement with the structures of existence that hinder justice through whatever social or occupational role (one's "calling") one occupies. In Luther's theology, there is no privileged ecclesiastical institution, no privileged theological class, and in his better moments, no privileged doctrinal system that mediates God's grace—meaning God's love and compassion. Instead, grace meets us where we are in the midst of whatever our "calling" might be; our "vocation" is to serve others in community through our callings: teacher, pastor, parent, physician, farmer, clerk, politician, or any other honest occupations by which persons make their way in the world. Luther's ideas of vocation—part of his doctrine of the "priesthood of all believers"—functioned as part of his critique of received medieval Christian tradition; it remains a defining theological principle of Protestant thought that Paul Tillich called the "Protestant principle."Being critical of Christian tradition is still widely practiced in mainline Protestant circles, even though Protestantism since Luther has produced absolutized forms of Luther's original critique of Christian tradition. My own Lutheran tradition is as guilty of this sort of idolatry as other Christian traditions. But the best of Protestant thought and practice has always generated critical attitudes in many theologians. So each generation of mainline Protestant theological reflection since Luther rejects, even as it builds upon, the work of previous generations, sometimes even retrieving elements of earlier tradition that their predecessors had rejected—as Luther retrieved Pauline-Augustinian notions of grace as a means of critiquing the sale of indulgences and the entire sacramental system of medieval Catholicism. [End Page 214]So as a Lutheran who believes that the process of personal and corporate self-criticism is an expression of faith, and that every attempt to absolutize any given form of tradition or religious practice is idolatry and constitutes nonfaith, I am always interested in learning how other religious traditions encourage personal and corporate self-criticism. As a Lutheran who happens to be a historian of religions engaged in interreligious dialogue, especially with Buddhists, and who has also thought and written about Pure Land Buddhism, I am especially intrigued when I encounter self-criticism similar to the Protestant principle at work in a form of Buddhism I deeply admire.Toward a Contemporary Understanding of Pure Land Buddhismis a collection of essays that evolved from a 1989 symposium planned by Dennis Hirota and sponsored by the Institute for Buddhist Studies that was held in Berkeley on campuses affiliated with the Graduate Theological Union. The focus of the conference—and of this volume—was constructive criticism of Jodo Shinshu Buddhist tradition. The essayists—three Buddhists and two Christians—share the conference's two convictions: (1) Pure Land Buddhism has a significant contribution to make to life in the contemporary world, and (2) Pure Land teachings and practices in the forms in which they are commonly communicated appear alien to contemporary persons both East and West. The structure of this collection flows from these convictions: first, three Pure Land authors (Dennis Hirota, John S. Yokota, and Musashi Tachikawa) offer three distinct proposals for deconstructing and reconstructing Pure Land Buddhism so that practitioners can more adequately reflect on contemporary intellectual and social circumstances as the context for faithful practice in a global context of religious and secularism pluralism, followed by critical comments on the Pure Land Buddhist proposals by two Christian theologians (Gordon D. Kaufman and John B. Cobb Jr.), and concluding with reconsiderations of their original proposals by the three Pure Land... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The New Physics and Cosmology: Dialogues with the Dalai LamaPaul O. IngramThe New Physics and Cosmology: Dialogues with the Dalai Lama. By Arthur Zajonic. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2004. 245 pp.Over the years there have occurred several "Life and Mind Conferences" that seek to explore the intersection between the natural sciences and Buddhism, particularly, but not limited to, Tibetan Buddhist tradition. As far as I know, this series (...) of conferences represents the most systematic effort to dialogically engage Buddhist thought and practice with the natural sciences to date. The New Physics and Cosmology is one of a number of published Buddhist-science dialogues to emerge from the Life and Mind Conferences. Its focus is contemporary quantum physics and scientific cosmology in conversation with Buddhist cosmology and is based on a conference held in Dharmasala 27–31 October 1997.Along with the Dalai Lama, the major participants in this dialogue were David Ritz Finkelstein, who teaches physics at the Georgia Institute of Technology and edits the International Journal of Theoretical Physics; George Greenstein, Sidney Dillon Professor of Astronomy at Amherst College; Peter Hut, professor of physics and interdisciplinary studies at the Institute for Advanced Study at Princeton University; Thupten Jinpa, who has served as the Dalai Lama's principal English translator since 1985; B. Allan Wallace, who trained for many years in Buddhist monasteries in India and Switzerland and is one of the Buddhist pioneers of the Buddhist-science dialogue; Tu Wei-Ming, who directs the Harvard-Yenching Institute and is professor of Chinese History and Philosophy at Harvard; Arthur Zajonc, professor of physics at Amherst College, whose research focuses on the experimental foundations of quantum physics and the relation between science and the humanities; and Anton Zeilinger, director of the Institute for Experimental Physics in Austria and professor of physics at the University of Innsbruck from 1990 to 1999.One of the remarkable features in these dialogues is that in spite of the Dalai [End Page 180] Lama's rather limited knowledge of contemporary quantum physics and cosmology, his questions to the participating scientists go very quickly to the philosophical and religious issues and challenges all religious worldviews must take seriously to remain relevant in the twenty-first century. His explanations of Tibetan Buddhist cosmology and doctrine, especially the epistemology Nagarjuna and the doctrine of sunyata or "Emptiness" as possible correlations with what the natural sciences are revealing about nature, are among the clearest Buddhist discussions in this regard I have read. One might also say that the scientists were very adept in the art of upaya in the manner in which they related their knowledge of very abstract and theoretical scientific issues to the levels of experience of their nonscientific dialogue partners. In particular, the experimental foundations of quantum physics and relativity theory were presented very thoroughly, in ways nonscientist participants could comprehend.Finally, these dialogues are not merely a series of lengthy conversations about supposed parallels between contemporary science and Buddhist teaching and practice. There is no claim that "Buddhism" is a "scientific" religious tradition, as often assumed by writers, both Buddhist and non-Buddhist, who have a tendency to read Western Enlightenment assumptions into Buddhist history. Instead, these conversations are motivated by the search for an alternative epistemological foundation for developing physical theories that could also be relevant to social, philosophical, and religious issues that the natural sciences as such are unable to address. For example, B. Alan Wallace assumes what Ian Barbour describes as an "independence model" in his understanding of the relation between science and Buddhism. Thus for Wallace and the other Buddhist participants, the natural sciences give us objective knowledge about physical processes but do not give us knowledge of an objective world. He then concludes that the function of scientific theories is to make natural events intelligible for the purpose of developing technologies that improve the quality of life. But science has very little, if anything, to say about "absolute truth," which he as a Buddhist names "Emptiness."Clearly, Wallace's interpretation of the natural sciences is based on his appropriation of the "two truth" epistemology that originated with the second century Indian Buddhist logician Nagarjuna. Nagarjuna also... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Other Side of Nothingness: Toward a Theology of Radical OpennessPaul O. IngramThe Other Side of Nothingness: Toward a Theology of Radical Openness. By Beverly J. Lanzetta. Albany: State University of New York, 2001. 182 pp.The central thesis of The Other Side of Nothingness is that apophatic mystical experience offers Christians a theology of humility sensitive to religious pluralism, which in turn is a means of overcoming the (...) "pains of spiritual oppression" caused by religious intolerance and doctrinal imperialism. The book's argument is that "mystical consciousness" overturns the dogmatic truth claims of "conventional theology" by preparing the self for the experience of radical openness to "divinity," however "divinity" is theologically named in the "conventional theology" of humanity's religious traditions. The book's author, Beverly J.Lanzetta, draws on a variety of Christian mystical texts to support her claims: Meister Eckhart, Gregory of Nyssa, Pseudo-Dionysius, Teresa of Avila, Bonaventure, and the anonymous author of the Cloud of Unknowing. She also makes comparative references to Hindu, Buddhist, and Sufi traditions, along with contemporary writers such as Abraham Joshua Heschel, Mahatma Gandhi, Thomas Merton, Howard Thurman, and Dorothy Day to illustrate her claim that apophatic mystical experience—the experience of the utter [End Page 306] annihilation of the self—draws the mystic to a place beyond a tradition's historical and normative self-understanding to new dimensions of the Sacred and, sometimes, to new "revelatory paradigms." The revelatory paradigm Lanzetta believes she has discovered in the evidence she cites is that "the divine nature itself is pluralistic, non-absolute, and is continually the source of new religious traditions," by which she means something similar to what John Cobb calls "creative transformation." For her, this is the antidote to religious imperialism and the exclusivism of conventional theology, meaning "non-mystical theology," which she argues is the source of religions fanaticism in all religions traditions, particularly in Christianity.There is much to admire about Lanzetta's take on mysticism and its importance for undercutting theological absolutism of the sort one encounters in the Christian Right or in certain radical movements within contemporary Islam. Her analyses of the mystical texts she cites to support her arguments are carefully crafted and accurately express the theologies of the Christian mystics who are the foci of her own theological reflection. Her writing style is elegant and clearly expresses the passion with which she embraces her views. I especially liked her focus on kenotic Christology in her description of the "Apophatic Christ" who "bears the generosity of speech and teaches an ethic of radical openness," which Lanzetta claims is also an openness to truths found outside Christian tradition. "All are called not to his name, his ministry, or even to his person, but are called to sustain the tension between the saying and the unsaying, and between the living and the dying, in which God's nonviolent heart yearns for unconcealment" (p. 90). Indeed, this is the heart of Christian mystical experience of Christ, particularly attested to in the writings of Maguerite Porete and Hildegard von Bingen. Yet kenotic Christologies are also found in nonmystical theology, which Lanzetta tends to lump together pejoratively under her category "conventional theology." Consequently, as much as I admire this book and agree with its essential conclusions—but for different reasons—my trouble with this work originates in Lanzetta's assertion of a hard dualism between mystical theology and "ordinary theology," a dualism that undermines her arguments and conclusions. My concern is threefold.First, mystical experience is primarily a matter of consciousness in the sense that something previously unknown and unexperienced is suddenly "there." This unanticipated presence is as real to the mystic's perspective as everyday experiences are, which is why mystics so often speak of being empowered to "see" or "touch" or "taste" what has been up to now imperceptible. If the experience is apophatic in structure—a usually brief moment of awareness in which all subject-object duality is overcome so that the mystic isn't aware of a self separated from what the self experiences or even that there is an "experience happening"—the mystic is neither thinking, feeling, or interpreting. That is... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Sixth International Buddhist-Christian Conference, August 5–12, 2000Paul IngramThe Sixth International Buddhist-Christian Conference, sponsored by the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies, will take place at Pacific Lutheran University, Tacoma, Washington, from August 5 to 12, 2000. The Program Committee has approved the general conference theme as “Buddhism, Christianity, and Global Healing.” The conference will follow the structure, with some variations, of the last international conference that met at DePaul University (...) in 1996: morning working group sessions on several themes interrelated with the general conference theme; afternoon sessions devoted to individual papers; and evening plenary sessions.Evening plenary themes and speakers have been identified: Dr. A. T. Ariyaratne and Dr. Cecil Murray (senior pastor of the First AME Church in Los Angeles) will address the topic “The Non-Violent Struggle for Economic and Social Justice”; Sulak Sivaraksa and John B. Cobb Jr. will speak on “Consumerism and Ecology: Buddhist and Christian Perspectives”; Rita Gross and Daniel Maguire will speak on “Buddhism, Christianity, and Issues of Gender”; and Virginia Straus and a Christian speaker yet to be identified will address “The Earth Charter: A Buddhist and Christian Response.”Working Group cochairs and themes have also been identified: Buddhist-Christian Practice and Mind-Body Healing (Venerable Yifa and Mary Jo Meadow); Ecology, Consumerism, and Corporate Consciousness (David Chappell and Donald Mitchell); Gender: Issues of Oppression and Justice (Judith Simmer-Brown and Donald Luck); Buddhist-Christian Dialogue with the Natural Sciences (Ken Tanaka and Nancy Howell); Buddhist-Christian Dialogue on the Earth Charter (Virginia Straus and Jay McDaniel); The Interior Dialogue: Buddhist-Christian Meditative/ Contemplative Practice (Susan Postal and Ruben Habito); and The Role of Orthodoxy/Orthopraxis in Buddhist-Christian Dialogue (Rita Gross and John Keenan).For the first time in the twenty-year history of our international conferences, a special afternoon seminar will be cochaired by Sallie King and Paul Knitter that will focus on specific case studies on particular issues of peace and justice work that are [End Page 179] interrelated with the themes of the plenary sessions and working groups. These sessions will meet in the afternoon throughout the conference week and will involve a presentation in case-study format from a Buddhist and a Christian engaged in a practical way that illustrates the themes of the conference. They will be asked to describe their situation and what they are doing and, particularly, to speak about how Buddhism or Christianity guides them in their work, the problems and successes they have had, their hopes, and their struggles, after which there will be open conversation with those present. Finally, afternoon sessions will be devoted to individual papers and presentations organized around the conference’s themes and other themes that emerge as individual papers are submitted.A preliminary call for papers will be published in the spring 1999 edition of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies Newsletter. Individuals who are not members of the society but wish to have a copy of this call for papers may E-mail the editor of the newsletter, Harry Wells, at.The Department of Religion of Pacific Lutheran University, along with its administration, faculty, and staff, are currently working hard to make this conference enjoyable and memorable. Travel, room and board, and other information regarding Tacoma, Pacific Lutheran University, motels, and excursion arrangements will be made available in the fall 1999 edition of the Society for Buddhist-Christian Studies Newsletter. The final call for papers appears on pp. 242–243.Paul IngramPacific Lutheran UniversityCopyright © 1999 The University of Hawai’i Press... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Buddhist-Christian Studies 24.1 (2004) 135-157 [Access article in PDF] "That We May Know Each Other": The Pluralist Hypothesis as a Research Program Paul O. Ingram Pacific Lutheran University When an African American Muslim named Siraj Wahaj served as the first Muslim "Chaplain of the Day" in the Unites States House of Representatives on 25 June 1991 he offered the following prayer, the first Muslim prayer in the in the (...) history of the House of Representatives: In the name of God, Most Gracious, Most merciful. Praise belongs to thee alone; O God, Lord and Creator of all the worlds. Praise belongs to Thee Who shaped us as and colored us in the wombs of our mothers; colored us black and white, brown, red, and yellow. Praise belongs to Thee who created us from males and females and made us into nations and tribes that we may know each other.1Siraj Wahaj's prayer is a direct reference to one of the most cited verses of the Qur'an: "Do you not know, O people, that I have made you into tribes and nations that you may know each other." Of course, "knowing each other" is an important goal in the practice of interreligious dialogue, but Muslims often move on to cite further Qur'anic advice about religious pluralism: "If God had so willed, He would have made you a single people," the verse reads, "But His plan is to test you in what He hath given you; so strive as in a race in all virtues."2 According to Siraj Wahaj and many like-minded American Muslims, Islam and pluralism go hand in hand and respect for the dignity for each person, no matter what religious or secular label he or she wears, rests on Islamic foundations. Of course, this interpretation of the Qur'an is rejected by radical communities within the House of Islam as well as by fundamentalist communities within Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, and Jewish traditions. Nor are the foundations of pluralism only found in the Qur'an; Buddhist, Jewish, Hindu, Christian, and aboriginal traditions support religious pluralism as well.This essay's thesis, what John Hick first posited as the "pluralist hypothesis," offers us the most coherent theoretical framework—minus Hick's Kantian epistemology—from which to interpret contemporary postmodern experiences of religious [End Page 135] diversity. Furthermore, I shall argue that the pluralist hypothesis constitutes a coherent history-of-religions research program from which to investigate and interpret the facts of religious diversity.3 In order to demonstrate the adequacy of my thesis and argument, I shall appropriate the philosopher of science Imre Lakatos's account of the methodology and structure of scientific research programs, guided by Nancy Murphy's application of Lakatos's work in the construction of theological research programs. But first, some preliminary clarifications about what I mean by "religious pluralism" and "religious diversity."4 The Structure of the Experience of Religious Pluralism In a recent book on the lives of four Catholic writers—Dorothy Day, Thomas Merton, Flannery O'Connor, and Walker Percy—Paul Elie provides one of the most accurate descriptions of the structure of postmodern experience of religious diversity in English print: We are all skeptics now, believer and unbeliever alike. There is no one faith, evident at all times and places. Every religion is one among many. The clear lines of orthodoxy are made crooked by our experience, and are complicated by our lives. Believer and unbeliever are in the same predicament, thrown back onto ourselves in complex circumstances, looking for a sign. As ever, religious belief makes its claim somewhere between revelation and projection, between holiness and human frailty, but the problem of proof, indeed the burden of belief, for so long upheld by society, is now back on the believer, where it should be.5Assuming that Elie's description is an accurate one, certain implications follow that will serve as working assumptions of this essay."Pluralism" is not just another name for "diversity." Diversity names the fact of the existence of differing... (shrink)