I remember it as if it were yesterday. I was six years old, playing on the balcony of my father’s apartment, pretending to drive a bus. Like in many childhood games, a world would materialize around my imaginary bus. The balcony was a busy street, the barstool my steering wheel, and I was completely absorbed in the adventure. Then something interrupted it. I happened to look up. 

The night sky stretched above me in a way I had never noticed before. Far from the city lights, the stars appeared in overwhelming abundance. Thousands of points of light filled the darkness. I stood there staring, suddenly very aware of something I could neither explain nor fully understand.   

I could not have articulated a philosophical argument. I knew nothing of cosmology, theology, or metaphysics. Yet the experience left a lasting impression because it was my first conscious encounter with wonder. I was in complete awe of our Magnificent Creator.  

Looking back, what strikes me is not that I arrived at a religious conclusion. What strikes me is how naturally the experience arose. No one had instructed me to think about God that evening. No one had pointed to the stars and suggested what they meant. The experience emerged spontaneously from an encounter with reality itself. 

Decades later, I know far more about the universe than I did that evening. I know that the stars I saw were not simply points of light scattered across the night sky. Some were immense spheres of burning plasma. Others may have already ceased to exist, their light continuing its journey toward Earth long after their extinction. I know something of galaxies, gravity, stellar evolution, and the vast distances that separate celestial bodies from one another.  

Yet none of that knowledge explains what happened on that balcony. The experience itself belonged to a different category of knowing. 

There is a kind of knowledge that explains, and there is a kind of knowledge that awakens. One tells us how things work; the other changes how we see them. Scientific knowledge belongs primarily to the first category. It seeks causes, mechanisms, and relationships. But human beings have always sought another kind of understanding as well—an understanding that addresses meaning, significance, and value. 

We instinctively recognize the difference. A botanist can explain the cellular structure of a rose, yet the explanation does not replace the experience of receiving one from a loved one. A musician can analyze a symphony note by note, yet analysis alone cannot account for the emotions it evokes. In the same way, understanding the physics of starlight does not negate the sense of awe a star-filled sky may inspire. 

The questions that arose within me that evening were not questions of mechanism. They were questions of meaning. They emerged not from ignorance but from an encounter. 

Indeed, this raises a question that lies at the heart of contemporary discussions about science and religion. Many people assume that experiences such as mine belong to an earlier stage of human development; that wonder flourishes only when knowledge is absent. Therefore, as understanding advances, mystery retreats. Scientific explanation gradually occupies territory once assigned to religion, leaving less room for transcendence.  

Some may even ask: if lightning can be explained without appealing to divine agency, if biological life can be studied through genetics, and if the cosmos can be described through physics and cosmology, then what role remains for religion? 

Beneath this argument lies a powerful but often unexamined assumption: that mystery is simply what remains unexplained, and that as scientific knowledge advances, the need to look beyond the material world steadily recedes. 

But this assumption deserves closer scrutiny.  

It reduces religion to a shrinking collection of unanswered questions. Religion then becomes a temporary explanation, invoked only until a “better” one emerges. Yet this is not how the great religious traditions have understood transcendence. Their central claim is not that God exists where explanation fails. It is that reality itself is grounded in a transcendent source [1]. 

Science excels at explaining mechanisms. It tells us how stars form, how cells divide, how memories are encoded, and how galaxies evolve. These explanations are among humanity’s greatest intellectual achievements. But explaining a process is not the same as exhausting its meaning. Knowing how something works does not necessarily answer why it exists, why it is intelligible, or why it evokes wonder in the first place. 

The deepest religious questions have never been questions of mechanism. They are questions of existence, meaning, consciousness, beauty, morality, and purpose. Why is there something rather than nothing? Why is the universe comprehensible to the human mind? Why do human beings instinctively seek meaning beyond survival? Scientific inquiry may illuminate aspects of these questions, but it does not render them irrelevant. If anything, the more we learn about reality, the more remarkable it often appears. 

Perhaps, then, the real issue is not that science has removed mystery. The issue is that we have come to equate mystery with ignorance. Once mystery is defined as merely the absence of explanation, it inevitably shrinks as knowledge grows. But if mystery refers to the depth, intelligibility, and sheer fact of existence itself, then scientific discovery does not eliminate it. It reveals new dimensions of it. Modern cosmology reveals a universe of staggering scale. Biology uncovers extraordinary levels of organization within living systems. Neuroscience continues to illuminate aspects of cognition while exposing the enduring mystery of consciousness. 

Scientific progress has expanded knowledge beyond anything previous generations could have imagined. 

Whether it has diminished mystery is another matter. 

Ironically, many of the discoveries once expected to eliminate mystery have instead intensified it. The more deeply physicists have probed the universe, the stranger it has appeared. Space and time are not what earlier generations imagined them to be. Matter itself proves surprisingly elusive. Consciousness remains resistant to reduction. The universe is not becoming simpler as knowledge advances; in many respects, it is becoming more astonishing. 

The assumption that scientific progress inevitably leads to disenchantment may therefore rest on a misunderstanding of science itself. Scientific inquiry often reveals not a smaller mystery but a larger one. Each answer opens new questions. Each discovery uncovers new depths. The horizon of understanding expands, but so too does our awareness of how much remains beyond it. 

Perhaps the real question is not whether science has removed mystery but why so many people no longer experience the world as mysterious. 

One answer may be found in a phenomenon that classical spiritual thinkers identify as the human tendency to become habituated to reality [2]. 

When something is encountered for the first time, it awakens curiosity, reflection, and wonder. The mind becomes active, the heart becomes attentive, and questions arise naturally. Yet repeated exposure gradually dulls this responsiveness. What was once extraordinary becomes ordinary. What once inspired awe becomes routine. 

This condition has been described as a form of familiarity that blinds rather than illuminates. We see something so often that we stop seeing it altogether. We assume we understand it not because we have penetrated its depths but because it has become familiar [3]. 

The result is not ignorance but a more subtle danger: the illusion of understanding [4]. 

We cease asking questions not because they have been answered but because they no longer occur to us. 

In this sense, familiarity can become a kind of blindness. We resemble the proverbial fish living in the sea yet unaware of the sea itself [5]. Surrounded by wonders from birth, we cease to notice them. We do not marvel at air because we have never lived without it. We rarely contemplate consciousness because we have never experienced its absence. The most extraordinary realities become invisible precisely because they are constant [6]. 

The world remains extraordinary; it is the observer who has become accustomed. 

Consider sleep. Every night consciousness disappears. Hours later it returns. We enter worlds populated by dreams, lose awareness of our surroundings, and awaken as though nothing extraordinary has occurred. Yet what could be more remarkable? Or consider sight. Patterns of light striking the retina become color, memory, recognition, and meaning. We move through the world using a faculty so astonishing that we scarcely pause to think about it. Or consider the earth itself. We are amazed when natural disasters interrupt ordinary life yet rarely reflect on the greater marvel that this planet carries billions of conscious beings through space while sustaining conditions suitable for life [7]. 

The remarkable becomes unremarkable not because it has been explained but because it has become familiar. 

This habituation affects not only our perception of nature but also our spiritual lives. Every significant truth is vulnerable to becoming familiar. Truths that once stirred the heart gradually become intellectual possessions [8]. We continue to affirm them, yet they no longer disturb us, challenge us, or transform us.  

A verse that once moved us to tears may eventually be recited absentmindedly. A prayer that once felt like a genuine encounter may become habitual. We may speak of mortality while rarely contemplating death, recite words of gratitude while scarcely noticing the gifts that surround us, and affirm belief in a Creator while moving through creation as though it were entirely self-explanatory. 

Human beings seem to possess a capacity for sustained existential responsiveness—a condition in which questions of meaning, mortality, beauty, and transcendence remain vividly present. There are moments when this attentiveness awakens unexpectedly: the birth of a child, the death of a loved one, a night beneath a sky filled with stars, an encounter with great beauty, a moment of profound prayer. 

In such moments, reality feels larger than our ordinary categories. We sense that existence exceeds our descriptions of it. 

Yet this sensitivity is difficult to sustain. Responsibilities accumulate. Habits form. Familiarity settles like dust upon perception. 

What is lost is not merely wonder but something deeper. A sense of metaphysical tension, an awareness that existence itself is worthy of contemplation. When that tension weakens entirely, something important is lost. Questions once felt deeply become merely conceptual. Reality remains the same, but its depth recedes from view. The challenge is not simply to believe certain truths but to remain awake to them. 

Perhaps this is why the world’s religious traditions repeatedly call human beings to remembrance, reflection, gratitude, and contemplation [9]. Such practices do not provide new realities. Rather, they help us see again the realities that have been before us all along. 

The challenge of modernity, then, may not be that scientific knowledge has displaced mystery. The greater challenge may be that familiarity has displaced encounter. 

The stars that captured my attention as a child have not changed. The universe has not become smaller. Reality has not become less mysterious. What changed was the ease with which I perceived that mystery. 

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if that six-year-old child on the balcony could stand beside me today and look at the same sky. 

She would know far less about the universe than I do now. She would not know about galaxies, stellar evolution, dark matter, or the age of the cosmos. Yet she might still see something I have spent much of my adult life trying to recover. 

Not ignorance. Not naivety. But the ability to encounter reality before familiarity renders it ordinary. 

The question is not whether mystery remains. The question is whether we have lost the capacity to encounter it. 

References 

1. Nursi, Said. Epitomes of Light (Mathnawi al-Nuriya) 

2. Ibid 

3. Gülen, Fethullah. “Familiarity (Ülfet) and Metaphysical Tension.” 

4. Gülen, Fethullah. “What Is Familiarity (Ülfet) and What Are Its Negative Effects?” 

5. Gülen, Fethullah. “Familiarity (Ülfet) and Metaphysical Tension.” 

6. Ibid. 

7. Nursi, Said, The Words; The Flashes; The Kastamonu Addendum. 

8. Nursi, Said. Epitomes of Light (Mathnawi al-Nuriya) 

9. Ibid. 

To prove his point, Nursi states three possibilities to explain the existence of things in the universe:

1. Everything is created by causes

2. Everything is created on its own

3. Everything is an outcome of natural laws.

The common theme of these three possibilities is that creation is dependent on some natural rules and causes. Bediuzzaman refutes these possibilities by arguing that these rules and causes are not conscious; thus, they are not aware of other causes or the ultimate purpose. From this, Nursi concludes that natural causes are not true creators but veils—screens behind which the act of creation takes place, while we perceive only laws and outcomes on the surface. This article explores this argument by relating it to contemporary scientific and technological examples.

Mechanisms do not explain agency

One point of discussion in this debate is whether elements in nature operate randomly or follow a certain manual, so to speak. Modern molecular biology give us numerous examples to ponder over this point. For instance, T-cells, a type of immune cells, are able to distinguish whether a cell belongs to the host or not via their highly precise receptors [2]. Such a precise receptor cannot be adequately explained by randomness alone, without a system of built-in rules that guide and stabilize its formation. Similarly, B-cells, which are another type of immune cells, can produce highly accurate antibodies against pathogens in the body. To be able to produce these antibodies, they have gone through a process called hypermutation and selection in which many versions of antibodies with small changes are made and only the most effective ones are retained [3]. Such a process is not random; on the contrary it follows specific selection criteria. Neither B-cells, nor other components involved in B-cell mutation have intelligence or training to conduct these processes on their own. They appear to be following an instruction manual, which has been provided by an authority who knows every detail of these processes.

Some people have the tendency to underestimate such complexity as soon as the mechanism of these systems are demystified through scientific discoveries. Discovering the underlying mechanism of a complex biological process helps us understand the system but does not indicate that the mechanism has the power to conduct the action. In this article, I further discuss this perspective by leveraging the recent advances in Artificial Intelligence (AI) as analogies to clarify the distinction between mechanism and agency.

Why technology makes this easier to see

I use examples from AI and modern computing because they can turn abstract ideas into concrete pictures, even for children, who often find abstraction difficult. For instance, the idea of recording all of our deeds by a Creator is easier to grasp in a world where phones, sensors, and street cameras quietly record what happens around us. Being in multiple places at the same time is also easier to understand via technologies such as virtual reality.

Several examples from computer science and modern technology help us better understand the relationship between mechanisms, rules, and agency in creation—the difference between what executes and what intends. To develop software, we need a programmer—someone with intelligence, power, and intention to write and direct the code. A book cannot exist without a writer, and software cannot exist without a programmer. Similarly, in biology we observe many “books” of information, and information, by its very nature, points beyond itself to an author.

Generative AI makes this contrast especially vivid. With generative AI technologies and methods such as vibe coding, one can now produce working software code using a simple prompt. This shows that parts of writing code can be automated once the underlying structure and rules are already in place. In other words, machines can learn the mechanism of coding, which implies that producing complex software happens automatically. Yet the “autonomy” is borrowed: the AI system is executing mechanisms that someone else designed, trained, and powered. It depends entirely on human-designed architectures, pre-existing data, external energy, and meaningful prompts to function. AI can generate text or code, but it cannot decide why it should do so, nor can it sustain or direct its own existence. We can therefore compare generative AI to a keyboard or a pen—a powerful tool, but still a tool—which requires a “writer” to operate it. Today, the writer (i.e., the user) no longer needs to specify every detail; a short prompt can be sufficient.

Likewise, biological processes—despite their sophistication and apparent autonomy—do not possess agency. They operate according to rules but rules themselves do not create; they are enacted. Therefore, just as intelligent machines require a human creator, life itself points to a Creator beyond the mechanisms that sustain it. As the Qur’an states: “His command is only when He intends a thing that He says to it, ‘Be,’ and it is” (Surah Ya-Sin 36:82).

Randomness, direction, and purpose

Another common argument suggests that random changes, given enough time, can account for the complexity we observe in life. Time certainly amplifies processes—but time alone does not define direction or meaning. Random variation can generate differences, but without a standard for evaluation, there is no sense of progress.

An everyday analogy makes this clear: Randomly rearranging letters indefinitely will not produce a meaningful book unless there is already an understanding of language and meaning. In the same way, biological changes require more than chance—it requires a framework that distinguishes what works from what does not.

This can be illustrated through computer algorithms, too. An algorithm that undergoes random modifications cannot “improve” unless improvement is defined. In AI, this role is played by an optimization or reward function, which could be described as a built-in goal. Even self-learning systems such as AlphaGo require pre-defined goals and evaluation rules. Without knowing what to optimize for, learning would be impossible.

Likewise, natural processes that seem to develop or improve over time presuppose a standard by which “improvement” is measured. Yet these processes do not define their own goals or evaluation criteria. Order, harmony, beauty, and directed complexity therefore point not merely to rules, but to a conscious source that established those rules with intention.

Autonomy still requires sustenance

A further question naturally follows: even if creation has an origin, does it then run on its own? This is the classical debate between a continuously active Creator and a non-intervening God.

The clock analogy is often used to argue for non-intervention: once a clock is wound, it runs independently. Yet this analogy fails upon closer inspection. Even a clock requires continuous energy; without it, the system stops. The universe likewise depends on energy at every moment. Moreover, unlike a clock, natural systems are not fully deterministic. Flexibility, contingency, and openness to change are intrinsic features of reality.

From a technological perspective, even the most autonomous AI systems remain continuously dependent on external inputs. Agentic AI requires power to operate, retraining when conditions change, and intervention when goals or constraints are altered. Apparent autonomy does not remove dependence—it conceals it.

Similarly, natural laws are not independent actors but frameworks through which ongoing sustenance is expressed. Knowing how a system operates does not eliminate the need for the One who sustains its operation. Rather, the consistency of rules can be understood as a veil through which continuous divine power and will are manifested.

Rules as a veil, not a replacement

Seen in this light, natural laws can be understood not as rivals to divine action, but as expressions of consistency in how that action unfolds. Nature, then, is not the author of existence but the script through which existence is written. Rules describe patterns; they do not generate meaning. Mechanisms enable processes; they do not explain purpose.

By reflecting on both nature and technology, we are reminded of a simple but profound insight: understanding the workings of the universe does not diminish the question of its Creator. It deepens it.

References

1. Nursi, Said. Nature: Cause or Effect. NJ: Tughra Books. 2012.

2. Johannes Pettmann, Anna Huhn, Enas Abu Shah, Mikhail A Kutuzov, Daniel B Wilson, Michael L Dustin, Simon J Davis, P Anton van der Merwe, Omer Dushek (2021) The discriminatory power of the T cell receptor eLife 10:e67092.

3. Syeda, M.Z., Hong, T., Huang, C. et al. B cell memory: from generation to reactivation: a multipronged defense wall against pathogens. Cell Death Discov. 10, 117 (2024).

Today, above all else, we are in need of a generation that is conscientious in fulfilling their duty toward God. We need ideal people who can serve as guides to our society; guides who will save humanity from the accursed abysses of disbelief, ignorance, error, the anarchy we have been trying to survive for the last few centuries; guides that will lead to faith, insight, the correct destination, and peace. In each and every era of depression, there have been minds that have enlightened the masses suffering from religious, intellectual, social, financial, and moral depression; these minds have reinterpreted human beings, the universe and existence in its entirety, and they have even reinterpreted the backstage of existence, removing obstacles in our processes of thought and feeling. Thanks to such exceptional people of thought, many times humanity have transformed their death shroud to a garment. They have brought new interpretations to things and phenomena, recited the “book of existence” like a song—a book which, in the perceptions of shallow minds, had lost its color and luster and taken on a dim hue, feeling it to its very depths; they have observed this book – the universe – with a sense of awe as if beholding a spectacular exhibition. They have unraveled the truths hidden in the heart of the universe by analyzing things season by season, paragraph by paragraph.

The most important characteristic of such auspicious people is their faith – a faith they work tirelessly to make others experience too. With this faith and these efforts they believe that they will be able to surmount everything and reach God, that they can attain true peace, be able to turn the world into a paradise and set up their tent in Eden. The joy of their destination makes them perceive life and serving others as a journey along the valleys of heaven.

As a matter of fact, “faith,” regardless of how deep it may be, has such a positive influence on humanity that no system of thought, doctrine or ideology can compare to it. When faith enters hearts within its own frame of reference, the person’s thoughts concerning the universe, natural phenomena, and God all suddenly change, deepening and reaching a vastness which allows them to evaluate all existence as if it were the pages of an open book. Everything suddenly comes to life, becomes a friend, and gives them a compassionate hug – things that had once seemed meaningless, lifeless, and unappealing. In this heart-warming atmosphere, people begin to sense themselves to the extent of their true worth; they understand that they are a conscious and unique part of existence; they attain the mysteries of the long, winding paths between the pages and lines of the universe; they feel that they are close to grasping the secret that lies behind the veil of all things; and then they are set free from the narrow prison of this three dimensional world, finding themselves in the stretches of eternity.

Indeed, all believers, through the thoughts which flow in the depths of their identity and in accordance with the degree of their faith, become boundless within their bounds; even though they are bound by space and time, they become paragons of unrestricted beings, reaching the ranks of those that are above and beyond the concerns of space, listening to the angels’ melodies. These beings, created from a drop of fluid, from what appears to be a shapeless pulp—what seems to be an insignificant creature, but what is in reality truly great—gains such importance that the Earth becomes the stage for the discovery of the divine breath contained in his or her soul. And, they become such creatures that they no longer fit between the skies and the Earth, becoming a transcendent being reaching between the two poles.

They walk amongst us; sit with us; their feet step where our feet step and they place their head when praying on the same spot that we do, but they manage to unite their feet and their head, thus becoming a circle. They use their prostration as a ramp on the path to nearness to God, and in a single step, they reach the horizon of becoming one of those closest to Him. They spread their wings in the same skies as the spirits and live like celestial beings in a human state. Such hearts always surpass individuality with the development and expansion of humane feelings; they become, as it were, a collective personality and embrace all believers; they lend a hand to everyone and salute creation in its entirety with the sincerest of feelings. They see colors, watch shapes, and are aware of the sounds of holy visions in everything and everyone that they encounter; they listen to the sounds of heaven on every possible frequency and feel as if they can hear the beating of angels’ wings. They see, feel, and listen to a vast ceremony of beauties: from the terrifying bolts of thunder to the revelatory songs of the birds, from the crashing waves of the sea to the gentle sound of the rivers that awaken a sense of eternity, from the magical reverberations of solitary woods to the majestic tones of awe-inspiring peaks that seem to reach the heavens, from the whispering breezes that caress green hills to the enrapturing scents that rise from gardens and spread everywhere; they say “this must be life.” They strive to honor each breath with prayers, reflection, and by uttering and contemplating the Beautiful Names of God.

With their forehead always on the ground, they open and close their eyes in hope, watching the threshold of a door they long to see open—waiting for a familiar gaze. With yearning, they look beyond the door, anticipating the honored hour when absence and separation will fade, and peace and closeness will descend like a sacred calm upon their soul. They search for answers to the desire for reunion that stirs deep within. Sometimes flying, sometimes limping along the earth, they keep running toward Him, unified with everyone and everything. At every resting point, they taste a new shade of reunion, a “wedding night”[1] of the soul. At each turn, they extinguish one fire of longing, only to be kindled anew by another spark. Who knows how many times a day they find themselves surrounded by breezes of divine closeness, and how many times they are shaken with sorrow at the loneliness of those who remain deaf to such gifts.

Indeed, souls that have such broadened horizons feel themselves constantly ascending a ramp toward new realms, always brimming with resolve and determination to transcend human norms. They think of what further abilities they will be able to attain and what successes they will achieve with faith and the power behind that faith. They keep running without exhaustion, with their horizon and prospect always open, and their hearts at peace. At every station their relationship with their environment grows and deepens. They may or may not be aware of it, but when they listen to their souls, they see themselves on a never-ending mountain side of peace. Despite the numerous motifs of longing and loneliness that they witness in other people, they never feel the agony of the road or homesickness because they know where they have come from, why and where they are headed, aware of all the harvesting and dispersion in the world, and they know that they are running on a particular track with a fixed purpose and aim. They feel neither the weariness of the road, nor experience the fears, worries, or agonies that other people do. They trust in God, striding with hope and tasting the joy of reaching the summit that holds the sky-blue dreams of tomorrow.

Indeed, along the path on which the world strides, these chivalrous heroes of faith advance in proportion to their faith, as if they were strolling along the valleys of Heaven, breathing nothing but peace. At the same time, through their connection with God, they can challenge the entire universe, overcome any difficulty, and never fall into despair, even when surrounded by destruction. They do not recoil in terror even when hells appear before them. They always hold their head high and never bow except before God. They concede nothing to anyone, they expect nothing from anyone, nor do they make themselves indebted to anyone. When they are victorious and attain one success after another, they shake with fear at the comprehension that this is in fact a test of their loyalty and submission to God, while at the same time they are humbled with gratitude and shed tears of joy. They know how to be patient when they lose and are tensed with determination. They start their journey anew with a sharpened will. They do not become arrogant or ungrateful in the face of bounty nor do they fall into despair when they suffer deprivation.

They carry a prophet-like heart in their exchanges with people. They love and embrace everyone; they turn a blind eye to the faults of others, while at the same time they are able to question the smallest faults of their own. They forgive the faults of those around them, not only under normal conditions, but also at times when they feel angered; they know how to live peacefully with even the most irritable of souls. In fact, belief urges its followers to forgive as much as possible, and not to fall prey to feelings of rancor, hatred, or revenge; in any case, it is inconceivable that those who are conscious of being on the path toward God should or could be any other way. To behave or think in any other way is out of the question. On the contrary, in all their actions, they seek ways to benefit others, they wish well for others, and they strive to keep the love in their hearts alive—waging a constant battle against rancor and hatred. They feel the heat of their own faults and sins, burning with remorse, and each day, they seize the evil thoughts within themselves by the throat. They start their work willingly and prepare the ground for the seedlings of good and beauty everywhere. In the footsteps of Rabi‘a al-‘Adawiyya they accept everyone and everything as a sweet syrup, even though it may be poison; even when they are approached with hatred, they welcome all with a smile. They repel even the greatest armies with the indefatigable weapon of love.

God loves these people, and they love God. They are constantly moved by the excitement of divine love and experience the radiant joy of being loved in return. Their wings of humility rest upon the earth, for they know that to give birth to roses, one must become like the soil. As deeply as they respect others, they also uphold their own dignity—never allowing their compassion, gentleness, or refinement to be mistaken for weakness. Unconcerned with praise or criticism, they live by their faith alone. Their only concern is to keep the brilliance of their inner world intact—for they have resolved to be true believers.

[1] The term Rumi uses for death.

Believing

Articles

In 1989, in his classic book The World’s Religions, the late Scots writer and teacher Ninian Smart gave us a landmark framework to help us compare and contrast the world’s great religious beliefs. Smart identified what he called the ‘seven dimensions’ of religion:

1. The practical and ritual dimension
2. The experiential and emotional dimension
3. The narrative or mythic dimension
4. The ethical and legal dimension
5. The social and institutional dimension
6. The material dimension

This framework has helped two generations of scholars and believers to identify what their beliefs have in common with other belief traditions and what the significant differences are.

In countries like Australia, where religious groups and institutions enjoy tax exemptions in relation to property and works of charity, courts have been asked to rule on what is or is not a ‘religion’. So, in Australia, the High Court determined in 1983 that to be considered as a ‘religion’ rather than a ‘philosophy’ a group must pass a twofold test:

– belief in a supernatural Being, Thing or Principle; and

– acceptance and observance of canons of conduct in order to give effect to that belief.(154 CLR 120 at 132, 137)

(A strict application of the first principle would rule out Buddhism as a religion, yet results from successive Australian censuses show Buddhism to be the fastest-growing religion in Australia. It is hard to be consistent! )

Some scholars looking for another, and perhaps simpler, way of comparing and contrasting religious movements, institutions and traditions may find help in the pioneer work of the English sociologist Grace Davie.

In 1994, Davie launched the study of religion into a new dimension with her challenging book, Religion in Britain since 1945: Believing without Belonging. The study was based on interviews with several thousand people outside shopping centres in various parts of Britain. She posed her conclusions in a series of questions. The first is:

Believing without Belonging

Why is it, for example, that the majority of British people – in common with many other Europeans – persist in believing (if only in an ordinary God), but see no need to participate with even minimal regularity in their religious institutions? Indeed most people in this country – whatever their denominational allegiance – express their religious sentiments by staying away from, rather than going to, their places of worship. On the other hand, relatively few British people have opted out of religion altogether: out-and-out atheists are rare. ( Davie, p2)

Five years after Davie’s significant book was published, another English sociologist, Robin Gill, added a third B, Behaving, although he did tend to equate ‘behaving’ with churchgoing, arguing that it is churchgoing which fosters and sustains a distinctive culture of beliefs and values (p. 64).

In the same year, Grace Davie published another of her many books; this one based on a study of religion in Europe. This led her to conclude that Europe is what she calls ‘the exceptional case’ – many Europeans, particularly in the Scandinavian countries of northern Europe, belong to the majority national church without any belief in their teachings, or even in the existence of a god. She is now preparing revised editions of both her books.

The three Bs have become almost a cliché – so, just two of many examples, the Anglican bishop Tom Frame uses the three Bs to frame part of his critique of the Anglican church in Australia and Richard Rice uses them to combat ‘the ideology of individualism’ and construct a theology of the church for Seventh Day Adventists in the United States.

Grace Davie herself has recently moved on from examining the state of Christianity in Britain and Europe to consider issues arising from Muslim migration to the West, and what she calls the shift from religious obligation to religious consumption.

Now some scholars are talking about a fourth Becoming. Most religious traditions teach that believing religious truth, and belonging to a religious community, should not only modify your behaviour, for the better, of course, but should change your nature, so that you become a new and better person. King’s College London has become a centre of transformation theology, Transformation is a well-established international journal of holistic mission studies and the United Methodist Church of the United States includes ‘becoming’ in the title of a new manual to help congregations incorporate new members.

In the great eastern religions, ‘becoming’ is a key part of their anthropology, with rebirth or reincarnation being the reward or the punishment in the next life for the quality of behaving in this life.

So we now have the ‘four Bs’ of religion, Believing, Belonging, Behaving and Becoming. At a time when the patterns of religious adherence in Australia are changing, due both to immigration and conversion, it is more important than ever for us to understand what other Australians believe. The Four Bs give us a new formal structure for discussing religious belief and practice intelligently, just as there are formal structures which help us make sense of physics or chemistry or biology or economics or sociology, or any of the natural or social sciences.

It may even result in a new and simpler way of comparing and contrasting established religions, on the basis of what the adherents of a particular religion believe and do, alongside Ninian Smart’s ‘seven dimensions’ of religion. So we can consider such issues as:

1. Which of the four Bs is most important to a particular religion?
2. What are the key beliefs of the major world religions represented in Australia?
3. How are the four Bs linked, in the Scriptures and the teachings of each faith?
4. Do all people of faith believe in the same God? If not, is there more than one God?
5. Is belonging about belonging to God or to the community of faith, or both?
6. How do these faith traditions expect their believers to behave – what is commanded, what is allowed and what is forbidden? and
7. How do believers become changed people, spiritually and even bodily? What is at the heart of the anthropology of each faith? What do they teach about the body and the soul, about resurrection and reincarnation?

In a sense it is all about the one big B, believing; what does a particular faith community believe about believing, about belonging, about behaving and about becoming? Over the past few months, I have recorded interviews with leaders and scholars of the five major religions represented in Australia and studied the books and pamphlets which they recommended. All of them claimed that their basic beliefs were based on their Scriptures, but the statements of faith which emerged suggested that some of them had put their Scriptures through a blender, as it were, to come up with statements which summarise the beliefs and practices and understandings which are common to most of the denominations or sects within each faith community.

JUDAISM

So the first article of the Jewish faith is the shema, the message given by Moses, or in the name of Moses:

The shema

Hear, O Israel: the Lord is our God, the Lord is one. – Deuteronomy 6.4

Yet the Jewish Scriptures record the growth of an understanding of God from the anthropomorphism of the book of Genesis through transcendentalism and panentheism, henotheism and particularism to true monotheism, belief in the one God who is the one true God of all peoples, even of those who do not accept him.

The second article of faith relates to humankind, which is said to have been created in the image of God, and is bound to God in a covenant relationship. The Hebrew Scriptures speak of a number of signs of the covenant, including the gift of the Sabbath at the time of creation, the rainbow after the great flood, and, most important, the circumcision of all males on the eighth day after birth, as part of the Abrahamic covenant.

This covenant is stated in chapter 12 of the book of Genesis, restated in Chapter 15 and sealed in Chapter 17, when Abraham agrees that the sign of the covenant will appear on the bodies of all his male descendants through circumcision.

The covenant with Abraham

Now the LORD said to Abram, ‘Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you. I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you, and make your name great, so that you will be a blessing …and in you all the families of the earth shall be blessed.’

– Genesis 12.1-3

God said to Abraham, ‘As for you, you shall keep my covenant, you and your offspring after you throughout their generations. This is my covenant, which you shall keep, between me and you and your offspring after you: Every male among you shall be circumcised. You shall circumcise the flesh of your foreskins, and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and you. – – Genesis 17.9-11

Many Jews call the ceremony of circumcision berit, which means ‘covenant’. The covenant was reaffirmed in the so-called Mosaic covenant at Mt Sinai, which the whole people of Israel are said to have confirmed, answering Moses as one, Everything that the Lord has spoken we will do. (Exodus 19.8)

The third article of faith is that the Torah is divinely-inspired. ‘Torah’ can mean the totality of the law of Moses, or all the law on a particular subject, or the first five books of the Scriptures, the Pentateuch, as distinct from the Prophets and the Writings.

Two other significant beliefs, which are seen differently by different Jewish communities, relate to the Messiah and to the land of Israel.

Belief in the Messiah developed after the Second Temple period, giving new meaning to the Messianic oracles in the writings of the prophets. The rabbis taught that the Messiah would be a descendent of David, and thus his coming would bring about the climax of human history and the direct rule of God on earth.

The land of Israel, Eretz Israel, was part of the Abrahamic covenant, but not all Jewish believers accept the modern state of Israel, because it was a secular foundation, not established by YHWH. Some Orthodox Jews say that the true Israel will be established only with the coming of the Messiah.

ISLAM

Most Australian Muslims will tell you that belief comes first, without the core beliefs there is no Islam. But the word Islam means submission, so some Muslims believe that behaving comes first, to be a Muslim one must submit absolutely and completely to the will of God. Many men and women were Muslims before the time of the Prophet. Two verses in the Qur’an are almost identical in proclaiming this:

Submission to God
Surely, those who believe,
whether they are Jews or Christians, or those of some other faith;
anyone who believes in GOD, and
believes in the Last Day, and leads a righteous life,
will receive their recompense from their Lord;
they have nothing to fear, nor will they grieve. – Qur’an 2:62, 5:69

The core Islamic belief is belief in the one, unique, incomparable God, the God who has no son or partner; none has the right to be worshipped but Him alone. Al’lah is the true God, and every other deity is false. He has the most magnificent names and sublime perfect attributes. No one shares His divinity, nor His attributes. The shahada, the confession of faith, the so-called first pillar of Islam La ilaha illa’Llah, ‘there is no god but God’ begins with a negative, to deny the false notions of God in the polytheism of Muhammad’s time and in the beliefs of the Jews and Christians whom Muhammad had encountered.

All other key beliefs in Islam relate to this core belief

– the angels are heavenly beings who worship God alone, obey Him, and act only by His command

– the Revealed Books have been revealed by God to his messengers as proof of His existence and as a guide to their belief and behaviour . The latest and greatest of these books is the Quran, which God revealed to the Prophet Muhammad , and guaranteed to protect it from any corruption or distortion.

– the Prophets and Messengers of God, from Adam to Muhammad, and including Noah, Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, and Jesus were all sent to reveal the same message, but God’s final message to humankind, the supreme reconfirmation of the eternal message, was revealed to the Prophet Muhammad. God has made prophecy the central reality of history, the Qur’an says that God has sent a messenger to every people in every age (Q. 10.48) – one of the ahadith says a total of 124 000 prophets in all.

– the Day of Judgment, the Day of Reckoning, the Day of Resurrection, is the day when God will resurrect, reward and punish every one for their beliefs and deeds. Some scholars have counted more than 115 references in the Qur’an to the Day of Judgment, more than on any other topic in the Qur’an, except Al’lah, and that number does not include verses with graphic details of the after-life, of heaven and hell. Surah No 81, which is said to date from the early years of Islam, before Muhammad left Mecca for Medina,

The Day of Judgment
When the sun is folded up,
when the stars fall, losing their lustre;
when the mountains vanish (like a mirage);
When the she-camels, ten months with young, are left unattended;
when the wild beasts are herded together;
When the oceans boil over with a swell;
When the souls are sorted out (joined like with like);
When the female (infant) buried alive is questioned for what crime she was killed;
When the Scrolls are laid open;
when the world on high is unveiled;
when the Blazing Fire(of hell) is kindled to fierce heat,
and when the Garden (of Bliss) is brought near –
Then shall each soul know its Destiny. – Qur’an 81. 1.14

CHRISTIANITY

In the early centuries of Christianity, when its beliefs were being defined, the central issue in the debates was the nature of the person and work of Jesus which later grew into distinct areas of theology, Christology and soteriology: What is the relation between Jesus and God?

Christians maintain that God was clearly acting and speaking in and through Jesus; the writer of the Gospel according to John could quote Jesus as saying, the Father and I are One (John 10.30) yet Jesus is recorded, in the same gospel and elsewhere, as praying to God and speaking of God as a separate person. As well, God is shown as being present at key points in the life of Jesus, at his birth, and his baptism, and key moments during his mission, in ways traditionally associated with the spirit, or the breath, of God.

The outcome was a Christian redefinition of the inner nature of the Godhead, as a mystical union of three persons, Father, Son and Holy Spirit – distinct, yet co-equal and co-eternal. Today, some Christians see these terms as anthropological and prefer to speak of the persons of the Trinity in terms of their roles or activities, as Creator, Redeemer and Spirit.

So the historic creeds have more to say about Jesus than of the other persons of the Trinity. The so-called Nicene Creed speaks of Jesus as the one who lived and died and rose again ‘for our salvation’, but does not say how and from what, So a spectrum of different accounts or theories has emerged – from the legalistic substitutionary theory, that Christ took the place of each and every person on the cross, to the moral or exemplary theory, that the death of Christ revealed the extent of the love of God which Christians are called to emulate. Generally, the theories coalesce around the idea that Jesus’ death dealt with the reality of sin in a way which humanity could not have done for itself.

For many Christians the death of Christ was the seal of a new covenant between believers and God, replacing the old covenant with the Jewish people. The unknown writer of the Letter to the Hebrews elaborates the doctrine at length in typological fashion, stressing that the new covenant secures the perfect forgiveness of sins for all believers.

The new covenant

For if the blood of goats and bulls, with the sprinkling of the ashes of a heifer, sanctifies those who have been defiled so that their flesh is purified, how much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to worship the living God! – Hebrews 9.13-14

The creeds also include belief in the church, the return of Christ in glory, and the promise of the resurrection of the dead, or of the body. The Nicene Creed also speaks of the sacrament of baptism, but not of the eucharist, or of any other sacrament of the church. The debates on these came later.

From the first generation, many Christians have believed that the Holy Spirit would empower them with special gifts, as described in a letter of Paul to the church in Corinth:

The gifts of the Spirit

To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. To one is given through the Spirit the utterance of wisdom, and to another the utterance of knowledge according to the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by the one Spirit, to another the working of miracles, to another prophecy, to another the discernment of spirits, to another various kinds of tongues, to another the interpretation of tongues. – 1 Corinthians 12.7-10

These gifts were seen as theirs as disciples of Christ and sharers in his gifts. But few mainstream Christians would claim these gifts today. Many Christian traditions maintain a healing ministry but no longer claim, as Augustine did, that all diseases of Christians are to be ascribed to demons and that these can be driven out with prayer and fasting.

HINDUISM

The traditions of Indian religion which most people collectively call ‘Hinduism’ have evolved over many centuries, without a single founder or a single collection of scripture. They include many and varied beliefs, so that believing is not as significant as belonging or behaving or becoming.

Many Hinduisms have largely merged into one. Ninian Smart says, like the trunk of a single tree which rises from a tangle of the most divergent roots. Most of these traditions have become monotheistic, but in a variety of ways – for some believers the 330 million or so deities in the pantheon are manifestations or expressions of the one divinity, as in some passages of the Rig Veda. For others, one god, Shiva or Vishnu, is the supreme god, and other gods are lesser gods or demigods.

Other groups recognise a trinity: Brahma, the creator, Vishnu the preserver and Shiva the destroyer. Together they represent the forces which are evident in the natural world and in human beings at all times. To indicate that these three processes are one and the same the three gods may be combined in the one form of Lord Dattatreya, who has the faces of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva.

In the pre-classical period, dominant beliefs were expressed in or developed from the four Vedas. The Rig Veda, the oldest of the Vedas, was composed about 1500 BCE and redacted about 600 B.C. The Sama Veda, the Yajur Veda and the Atharva Veda came later. All contain hymns, incantations, and rituals by which man can relate to the gods. The chief gods of the Veda are Indra, the great warrior; Varuna, the lord of the heaven, and Agni, the god of fire.

Sometime around 500 BCE, new traditions developed, including belief in samsara, the cycle of rebirth, and karma, the impact of past actions on the present and the future. The earlier traditions were focused on the priestly class, the Brahmans; now they came to include all classes, so Brahman came to mean the holy power which informs and animates the whole of reality. Sometimes Brahman is identified with Atman, the inner essence of the human being

The new traditions are expressed in the 200 or so Upanishads, the texts which are said to complete the message of the Vedas. In the Upanishads, ritual action and self-control converge in the search for personal liberation from samsara through unity with the Holy One or at least close communion with the holy.

The Upanishads express the unity of all things in many ways, as in these verses from the Isha Upanishad:

The Divine unity
When a man sees all beings
within his very self,
and his self within all beings.
it will not seek to hide from him.
– Isha Upanishad 4.6

In classical Hinduism, which emerged in the second and third centuries BCE, the community of the local temple became more significant, with its fervent sharing in the life of the chosen manifestation of the divine, known as bhakti . Bhakti is the essence of the epic poem the Bhagavad-gita , which was composed around 300BCE to 200 BCE and became the major work of Hindu Scripture, largely supplanting the Vedas and the Upanishads.

In the Bhagavad-Gita the Lord KRSNA presents the mature Hindu understanding of the one God:

The nature of God
My nature is divided eight-fold …
my higher nature know:
It is the Life (soul), great-armed one,
by which this world is maintained. …
Of the whole world I am
the origin and the dissolution too.
– Bhagavad-gita, chapter

The diversity of Hindu beliefs is also seen in the growth of devotion to the Goddess, under various names, such as Durga, Kali and Parvati, each of whom represent different aspects of the goddess – Durga is the unapproachable; Kali the ferocious devourer of time; Parvati the beautiful, the benign, the wife of Siva, whose devoted service to her husband is the model of how man should serve his god.

BUDDHISM

Belief is not as important in Buddhism as in other faiths; Buddhist teachers say that Buddhism is not a religion but a a way of life; Buddhism is pragmatic … as it moves from its heartland it assimilates beliefs and practices from local cultures. So right believing is not as important as right becoming, securing a good rebirth, or escaping from the cycle of birth, death and rebirth by reaching Nirvana, or even as belonging, living as a member of the Buddhist community.

However, to be a Buddhist means believing that Buddha actually lived, and that his teachings are true wisdom; and that all things are impermanent and interdependent. The Buddha’s teachings are known collectively as dharma. They speak of

1. AThe Four Noble Truths
2. The Triple Jewels
3. The Four Reliances and
4. The Four States of Mind for Studying the Dharma

Buddhist teaching aims to enlighten us about ourselves, to respect ourselves and to affirm ourselves. It is humanistic, not theistic – Buddhist teaching speaks of devas or gods, as well as maras or evil spirits, which are evil influences which stand in the way of Buddhist practice and ultimate liberation. The devas inhabit the heavens above the human realm, but are still unenlightened, bound to samsara, the endless cycle of birth and death. Mainstream Buddhism has no concept of the creation of the world, or of a divine Creator. Like all things, the world is subject to the cycle of birth and death.

Religious teachings on belonging, behaving and becoming all stem from the basic beliefs and the Scriptures of each faith.

BELONGING

Judaism sees belonging in at least three ways – firstly, the people belong to God in a covenant relationship; but they also belong to each other on the grounds of race, the sense of a common ancestry, of belonging to a people with a common history, including centuries of communal suffering, and, thirdly, they belong in a local community in one of the varied streams of Judaism -Orthodox, Reform, Conservative, Progressive, Reconstructionist, Hasidim or Liberal.

Islam, submission, is a community obligation as well as an individual one. Believers form the one community, although they may be from many nations and tribes. Just as God sent prophets and messengers as witnesses to the Jews and the Christians and then to the Muslims, so the Muslim nation must witness to other nations.

The Greek kuriakios, from which Christians derive the word ‘church’, means ‘belonging to the Lord’, so ‘belonging’ means belonging in the church – the local congregation, and/or a particular denomination or tradition, and/or the ‘one holy, catholic and apostolic church’, as the Nicene Creed puts it. For the early Christians, the church was a spiritual society, the ‘new Israel’, which replaced the Jews as the people of God; all Christians were one in Christ, regardless of race, background or gender; the church was the repository of Christian truth; and nourished its members to enable them to grow in faith and holiness.

In the Hindu traditions ‘belonging’ relates primarily to one’s place in Indian society – the words Hindu, India and the Indus are cognate words – essentially, Hindus are the people of the Indus valley. They belong to the community because they are born into it. Belonging is expressed through the family’s association with a particular temple, or with a particular religious teacher; by their dress, their participation in religious ceremonies and festivals, and by their moral codes and behavioural expectations.

One of the three jewels of Buddhism is the sangha, the Buddhist community. In Chinese Buddhism the sangha is a community of monks and/or nuns, who are the exemplars of the faith. In other traditions the sangha may include lay men and/or women. Whether the sangha is monastic or lay, or a combination of both, belonging means accepting the principles of harmony in truth and harmony of action. The six principles of the sangha: doctrinal harmony, moral harmony, economic harmony, spiritual harmony, verbal harmony and physical harmony.

BEHAVING

A large part of the Jewish Torah is taken up with instructions on how the people should behave towards one another, particularly towards the poorer members of the community, as in the holiness code in Leviticus chapter 19. Behaving is linked with belonging – You shall be holy, for I the Lord your God am holy. (Lev. 19.1). The Torah records the commandments of the Covenant, including the 10 commandments, which are recorded twice, in slightly different forms, and the 613 mitzvot, the lesser commandments and ritual duties and good deeds which are scattered through the text.

For Muslims, ‘behaving’ means following the rules prescribed for the community. Belonging controls behaving. In turn, believing controls belonging. Right behaviour is modelled on the life of Muhammad and his Companions, in the sunnah, the early Muslim community, as recorded in the ahadith, the authentic traditions of Islam. The Qur’an regularly links believing and behaving, as in this passage about the outcome of the Day of Judgment: Surely for those who believe and do righteous deeds, their welcome is Gardens of the highest level of Paradise. Therein will they abide, without desiring any change therefrom. (Qur’an 18: 107-108)

Christians are expected to behave in accordance with their belief that Christ is ‘the way, the truth and the life’ (John 14.6). Christians need to study and model their own lives on what Georgia Harkness calls the way of life exemplified and taught by Jesus, applied to the manifold problems and decisions of human existence. (Christian Ethics, 1957 – from web). But Christians are also required to behave in accordance with their belonging, to behave in accordance with the teachings of their church. The issue of conscience versus command has been controversial throughout Christian history.

Many Hindus call their faith sanatana dharma, everlasting dharma. They see Hinduism as a personal map of appropriate behaviour -behaviour which will eliminate mental impurities like greed and egoism and achieve good karma , behaviour which corresponds to the cosmic order in which natural law is grounded. The basic Vedic virtues include truthfulness, nonviolence, austerity, self-control, tranquillity, study and teaching, sincere worship, universal brotherhood and wisdom. These apply to all human beings, but particular behaviours may be required of the five castes and at each of the four stages of life.

The precepts or rules of Buddhism are largely negative, urging restraint from the desires which lead to suffering. So Buddhist teaching on behaving focuses on training to avoid and overcome these desires. A mind that is trained avoids actions that are likely to cause suffering or remorse. The Buddhist text, the Perfection of Wisdom in 8,000 Lines lists ‘the six perfections of a Bodhisattva’ – the perfection of giving, the perfection of morality, the perfection of patience, the perfection of persistence, the perfection of concentration and the perfection of wisdom.

BECOMING

In traditional Judaism, ‘becoming’ is about becoming a better person in this life, not about the next life. The next life is best left in God’s hands. The reward of good behaving is a longer and better life, rather than the promise of an after-life But, by the Rabbinic period, the resurrection of the dead had become central tenet of Judaism, even if, for many traditional Jews, personal transformation in this life through repentance and commitment to the will of God remained the foundation of the Jewish faith.

In Islam, believing, belonging and behaving become a transformational experience. The self is made fit for paradise, the ultimate reward for those who believe. Three key passages in the Qur’an outline the successive stages. The nafs, the self, which is naturally prone to evil (Q. 12.53), becomes self-accusing (Q. 75.2); in this second stage the self becomes conscious of evil and resists it, asks Al’lah for pardon and reaches for salvation. In the third stage, the soul asks no more than to be at rest in Al’lah (Q. 89.27).

Christians believe that, in some way, their belief in Christ and in his mission as the bearer of salvation transform them into a new person, in mind and spirit, if not in body. The key Scripture is in the Gospel according to John, which quotes Jesus as telling a Jewish teacher that the people of God are not identified by their race, but by their commitment to God – ‘Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being reborn of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. (John 3.5-6)

In the traditions of Indian religion, rebirth after death is a fundamental teaching, and the desire to achieve a good rebirth, based on good karma in this life, is the reason for following the prescribed rituals and patterns of behaviour. So behaving determines becoming. Rebirth may be in many forms, including those of animals, and in many heavens and hells. Rebirth as a human is rare, and marks release from samsara, the eternal cycle of birth, death and rebirth.

Two core teachings of Buddhism come together in its doctrine of rebirth – the reality of impermanence and the law of cause and effect. All human beings are caught up in samsara, transmigration, the continuous process of birth, death and rebirth. If they fail to practice the dharma in this life, on or after death they will be reborn in one of the six realms of existence – the realm of hell beings or the realm of hungry ghosts, or the realm of animals (the three unfortunate realms), or perhaps in the realm of human beings, the realm of the demigods or the realm of the gods.

CONCLUSION

The Four Bs does appear to provide a new framework for comparing and contrasting the main traditions of institutional religion, perhaps of all religious traditions. They appear to have major differences in two Bs, believing and becoming, but a good deal in common in belonging and behaving. The more I read and speak with teachers of the major faiths, the more the differences become significant. Yet the beliefs and behaviours of religious people generally are so different from dominant secular beliefs and values that people of faith might be seen as forming a sub-culture within globalising world culture. The Melbourne scholar Ken Gelder argues that

‘subcultures are social, with their own shared conventions, values and rituals, but they can also seem “immersed” or self-absorbed; a feature that distinguishes them from countercultures’.

– Ken Gelder Subcultures: cultural histories and social practice 2007 p2.

Simply by believing in the numinous in any form, and belonging to a religious group, and behaving in accordance with religious teaching and becoming a better person as a result may make what believers have in common much more significant than anything that separates them. Already there are signs that religious believers, whatever their faith allegiance, are willing to stand together, both against the excesses of a dominantly secular society and the excesses of religious fundamentalism.

Dr Douglas Golding is a post-doctoral research scholar of the sociology of religion living in Sydney, Australia. He has taken part in many inter-faith discussions and given papers at a number of international conferences – in Oxford, Tokyo, Stockholm, Manila, Auckland and Tehran as well as in Sydney. He is currently teaching adult education classes in religion and history at two universities and working on his book on the ‘Four Bs’.