This article was written by Rachael Heffernan, writer and researcher for The Drawing Board and graduate researcher in Religious Studies at the University of Alberta.

It’s a term that gets used confidently, like we all know what it means, but the first thing that happens in any theory of religion class is to reveal that, in fact, “religion” has no satisfactory definition. No matter how we may try – and try many do – we cannot figure out what makes a religion a religion.

To break this down:

Many definitions of religion centre on the belief in some superhuman power, like angels and deities, but this is problematic for multiple reasons. Firstly, not all major recognized religions include belief in any kind of superhuman power: Theravadan Buddhism is rather adamant about its lack of inclusion of anything transcendental in its worldview.

Secondly, for many, simple belief in a deity or deities is not enough for a person to be considered “religious.” There are behavioural obligations, dress codes, eating restrictions, and so on and so forth, that are understood to be part and parcel to ‘actually’ believing in G/god(s).

Thirdly, even those that do not believe can still be considered, and consider themselves, religious. If one is an atheist but nevertheless attends religious services, reads sacred texts, eats according to religious laws, and observes sacred holidays, would they be viewed as a non-religious person? Maybe by some, but not by all.

Fourthly, without a concrete definition of “superhuman power,” it is impossible to determine the exact qualities of the being(s) in which a person is expected to believe, and it becomes difficult to explain how belief in folk heroes, monsters, and fairies is different from belief in saints, demons, and angels. This problem becomes even further complicated by the fact that though the belief in certain figures (such as angels and ghosts) may be intrinsic to one religion, the belief in those same beings may be abhorred in another. What kind of definition, then, would be capable of differentiating between the religious and non-religious superhuman powers in light of these difficulties?

89299_orig

The idea that religion can be defined solely based on belief in superhuman powers, then, is a pipe dream. In light of the shortcomings of one-dimensional definitions, some scholars have suggested outlining a number of different criteria of which religions must fulfill at least a few in order to retain their status as religions. These criteria often include things like:

  • Dietary restrictions
  • Sacred texts
  • Sacred buildings
  • Belief in superhuman powers
  • The existence of religious professionals
  • A particular way of dressing
  • Etc.

There are, again, many problems with this style of definition.

Firstly, the criteria that are normally put in place in these lists are drawn from distinctly Western ideas of what constitutes religion. This is perhaps unsurprising, as it is a distinctly Western pursuit to try to discover what religion is, or even to attempt to separate religion from other kinds of human behaviour. Some languages do not even have a word for religion, and many do not consider religion to be a particular set of behaviours within a culture, but rather as fully integrated and inseparable from the culture itself. What happens, then, is that these attempts at definition ultimately fall short in their attempts to define religion on a worldwide scale. They do not take into the account oral cultures, or the fact that eating restrictions may have multiple justifications beyond “religious concerns,” or that sacred spaces are often ill-defined and can appear spontaneously, or that some cultures do not have or see the need for dedicated religious professionals.

Secondly, it is possible for some patterns of behaviour, institutions, or practices that are not normally considered religious to fulfill the criteria outlined in the above definitions. Sports fandom, for example, is often cited as a modern form of religion: there are designated buildings and particular clothing, people arrive en masse to participate in certain events at the same time every year, there are heroes and legends, it includes devoted professionals, and fans (or adherents) treat their team, the events, and the players with reverence. The same problem can be found in a large number of cases: political ideologies, recreational groups, community centres, even online communities may fulfill the criteria necessary to be considered religious.

Thirdly, it is possible for groups who want to enjoy the privileges offered to religious groups to simply ensure that they tick off the boxes necessary to be considered one. It is not so difficult to write a text, call a building “sacred,” wear particular clothes, elect a leader and then *poof* enjoy tax breaks and extended rights and freedoms. Most recently, scientology has been removed of its religion status in Germany and declared a business – pointing out the power differential when it comes to naming what a religion is and who gets that privilege.

And with this, it starts to become apparent why it is important to define religion. I would like to be able to say that it would be fine to simply allow people to call themselves what they want, and leave labels out of it, but I can’t, because the issues surrounding definitions of religion are larger than self-identification. It is not only that recognized religions enjoy considerable privileges in our society, but also that the term religion is used to make blanket-statement condemnations, promote discrimination, and encourage us-vs-them mentalities. When people say “religion is violent,” or “this religion is violent,” they are glossing over the fact that we have no way of determining what religion even is. The end result of this behaviour is often that millions of people are lumped in with the few, and the only solution proposed is if religion, or that religion, is left behind in favour of a ‘superior’ way of life. Root causes of issues are ignored in favour of blaming a porous, ever-changing, inconsistent, undefinable thing.

So define we must, because the more we recognize the issues inherent in our own categorizations, the less we are able to condone worldviews of us-vs-them.

ReligionWordleWhiteRound

 

lizThis article was written by Liz Hill – writer and researcher for The Drawing Board.

The first commonly stated reason it is important to understand history is, of course, the colloquial: “Learning from the Past.”

dd49d562dacd3fcd3ec7c83a0e2df3c8

This is a trite notion that supposedly sums up the importance of studying and teaching history: if we don’t learn from the mistakes of the past we are doomed to repeat them. Well, even assuming the course of history is made by momentous individual decisions ( which it’s not), I still find this notion irritatingly simplistic. Present conditions never so closely mirror moments in the past that we could make some sort of prognostic art out of the study of history. Furthermore, how are we to determine what the “mistakes” of history even are and by whose standards? These are entertaining questions for time-travel fiction maybe, but not something to write a historiography paper on. As facile as the phrase is, however, I do see an element of truth in it. Knowledge and understanding of history can help us (individuals, cultures, societies) act better – more critically and thoughtfully – in the present for the sake of the future.

tumblr_mb74wlGISU1qeaqak

Western culture has an unfortunate habit of isolating itself from its own past. Where we are now represents transcendent progress over the past. We pick and choose the good people and moments to memorialize based on perceptions of how they got us here, and reject the rest as superstitious, backwards, and undeveloped. Our isolation from the past is even embedded in the basic structures we use to talk about it – chronological periodization (while admittedly practically useful) chops the flow of time up into supposedly distinct chunks, obscuring the blurring and continuity that occurs in between and throughout. “Medievalism” – the process of placing what is no longer acceptable in modern society and culture into the past – is the little cousin of Orientalism. Both are processes of Othering by which cultures constitute identity and absolve themselves by projecting what is unacceptable within onto an external and radically different other. Medievalism is not just directed at the historical past, but at so-called “traditional cultures” which are very much alive and present.

tumblr_molrn96VM01r7u6l5o1_1280

There is of course a flip side of the progressive view of history, which is reactionary traditionalism and the desire to make Golden Ages out of the past while viewing recent history as degeneration. This perspective has its own whole set of polemic uses and abuses, but to me it seems to represent a similar inability to meet change and difference as morally neutral, neither good nor bad in and of itself.

It still stands however, that to act wisely for the future one must understand the present state of the conditions in which one acts. And to understand the present state of anything – a person, a society, an idea – one must understand where it or they came from. History allows us to reconstruct the accumulation of existence that lies behind any present state of being. Good history is capable of uncovering the inner workings of social and cultural systems by understanding where they came from, revealing their implications and potentials. With clearer knowledge about the present we can better act in the present, and from that, we can hope for a positive future.