Religion is still profoundly embedded into today’s contemporary, postmodern, and secular society. A major facet of this intermingling between religion and society is the way individuals communicate with society as a whole, via their religious rituals and myths. Though myth is not entirely scientific, it is undoubtedly one of the best instruments for revealing the oftentimes hidden and complex meanings of religious beliefs, tenets, creeds, and principles. Thus, I would like to clarify the ambiguity and different connotations of myth for present-day readers. While myth in common parlance has come to mean “what is not true,” religious and academic connotations are quite a different story.

The English word myth comes from the Greek muthos, meaning “word” or “speech.” It owes its significance to its contrast with logos, which can also be translated as “word,” but is used especially in the sense of a word that elicits discussion or an argument. Muthos in its meaning of “myth” describes a story about gods and superhuman beings.

A myth is an expression of the sacred in words: it reports realities and events from the origin of the world that remain valid as the basis and purpose of all there is. Consequently, a myth functions as a model for human activity, society, wisdom, and knowledge. (Gale Encyclopedia of Religion, Vol. 9)

This aforementioned definition of myth serves us well and points to several aspects of a myth. For instance, the story of Abel and Cain is a wonderful description of the horror, terror, and disgust of murder, as well as the evil of envy. As the story well illustrates, both Abel and Cain were supposed to sacrifice something of their most beloved to God. One did so wholeheartedly (Abel), while the other did not (Cain). Eventually, God accepted the sacrifice Abel made (since it was sincere), but rejected the half-hearted sacrifice of Cain, which made him very jealous of his own beloved brother. Then, in spite of his brother’s heartfelt efforts to help him repent his sin, his deeply felt envy caused him to murder in the name of evil. Thus, this myth perfectly portrays a model for us to adapt in order to refrain from vicious and destructive acts like murder and envy. It becomes a timeless paradigm of a human action that, no matter how unrealistic it may be, can still guide individuals to good by illuminating life’s deeper meanings. Even if such a story never happened, it would still function as an outstanding model for those who want to understand the perils of envy.

Furthermore, the story of Prophet Adam and Eve, and their corruption by Satan, has a very pertinent meaning and message. As the myth goes, Satan was an obedient servant of God, who even temporarily led almost all the angels in the name of the order of the universe. But when God willed and created Adam out of clay and infused into him His word (spirit), and then decreed all the others to prostrate before Adam, Satan did not comply. After that, even though Satan had the opportunity to show regret for his disobedience before God, he insisted on his own mistake, an error that was ultimately greater than his previous mistake. Then, his infamous efforts to seduce both Adam and Eve to follow the very same way, caused Adam and Eve to commit the first sin, leading to the Fall. But soon after, Adam and Eve realized their rebellion against the decree of God and earnestly repented. While Satan could not admit his own mistake, Adam and Eve were able to humbly repent. This led to them, in spite of the Fall, rising above even the great angels in attitude and character.

One can find a lot about the nature of human beings in this myth. For example:

1. We are prone to mistakes – that is, we are not infallible. Therefore, we need to admit the fact that we can/will err. But what matters most here is our recognition of fallibility and our efforts to rectify the mistakes we make.
2. Some beings are not obedient to humans
3. Human beings are composed of both physical and metaphysical aspects. (God created man out of clay and instilled His word/spirit to this clay-made physical body).
4. Repentance is the only way to redemption.

As illustrated above, these myths can serve good examples of ideals, paradigms, and models for human beings. As a matter of fact, together with parables and other symbolic languages like metaphors, myths build a splendid essential bridge between the addressees of religion and the scientifically incommunicable realities of religion.

As for ritual, though it might seem easier to define compared to myth, in religious studies it is rather troublesome to thoroughly describe what ritual is. While some famous scholars like Edmund Leach maintained that the term ritual should be applied to all culturally defined sets of behavior (the symbolic dimension of human behavior as such), others like Otto and Eliade argued that ritual arises from, and celebrates the encounter with, the “numinous” or “sacred” (Gale Encyclopedia of Religion, Vol. 9). Still others, like Robertson Smith and Emile Durkheim, have presented ritual as the very heart and soul of religion, and put more emphasis on ritual than myth. As Durkheim contended, “Societies image themselves in their ritual symbols and the sacred is the essential social idea” (Gale Encyclopedia of Religion, Vol. 9).

Having admitted the difficulty in defining ritual, I would like to pay attention to its simple definition according to James Livingston:

Ritual can be defined as an agreed-on and formalized pattern of ceremonial movements and verbal expressions carried out in a sacred context.

Of the several dimensions of the definition above, I want to underline the fact that for a ritual to be qualified as religious, it should be carried out in a sacred context. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have any taste of religion; it would rather be a mere formalized systematic model of ceremony or verbal expression. Therefore, not every ritual is a religious ritual in the sense that it does not carry the meaning of the encounter with the sacred or the numinous.

The role ritual plays in religion is of the lofty consideration in religious life. While Aristotle held, “We are what we repeatedly do,” Kant argued that the ultimate truth cannot be known just through theoretical cognitive research; it must be internalized by means of habitual repetition of some formalized patterns of behavior or verbal expressions – in other words, ritual conceptualization or communication (he called it the “practical mind” in critique of pure reason). 

Religious ritual is a crucial part of holding the members of a society together (the idea of “we” interdependence, rather than “me only” independence), and maintaining the continuity and congruity of the social body or organism. As some scholars reason, three individuals (1+1+1=3) are equal to 3 in mathematics, yet in a society of three individuals held together by the invisible but practical bond of ritual, the sum is not three, but 111. [When three individuals line up next to each other and have a complete consensus and synergy about the purposes of their society socially add up to almost 111.]

Ritual unquestionably serves many significant psychological and social functions. For example, through religious rites and rituals, individuals can cherish an opportunity to synchronize one’s own ideas and emotions with those of others. Moreover, social togetherness via rituals is most likely the best remedy for individual anxiety and selfishness, as the maxim “it takes the whole village to raise a child” depicts. Rituals can also cure some social tensions, whether they are due to uneven distribution of wealth and material resources, or apparent injustice because of allocation of social status. For example, a janitor in a faithful society can stand side by side with a President while praying before God in a mosque or a church. The two of them are equal in the sight of God. Rituals are also the best means for the realization and application of the archetypal patterns made manifest in myths and other symbolic languages like parables and metaphors. Therefore, rituals serve as “the practical mind” for the adherents of a religion, allowing them to embed the sophisticated meanings communicated in the sacred scriptures and myths. Ritual is to religion, what light is to the act of seeing – indispensable. Rituals keep faith alive.

In regard to the interconnectedness of ritual and myth, they are like two facets of one reality, implementing one another’s functions and meanings. Neither ritual nor myth is superior; each has its own peculiar role and functions in religion. I would describe ritual as the realized and applied perception of religious myths and sacred scriptures. For this reason, neither myth nor ritual can exist on its own. While myth presents perfect archetypes and paradigms of the doctrinal system of religion (the theoretical mind), rituals function as conducive platforms to realize what the theoretical mind puts forward, by means of systematic repetition (the practical mind). Together, they form a united reality of both the theoretical and practical mind of religion. As the great Rumi contended about the vital importance of practicing religious tenets and beliefs through rituals, “We either appear as we are or we become as we appear.”

In conclusion, ritual and myth are two angelic wings of the same heavenly system of religion. For the modern students of world religions, both serve as celestial lifts or launchers that can enable the believers to pass beyond the boundaries of this three-dimensional realm and enjoy the sacred bliss on the opposite shore of existence, the transcendent realm: the experience of encountering the numinous. A religion functions best when it has these two angelic wings – myth, the theoretical mind, and ritual, the practical mind.

References

• Gale Encyclopedia of Religion, 2nd Ed.
• Livingston, James C. 2008. Anatomy of the Sacred: An Introduction to Religion, 5th Ed. Pearson.
• McAuliffe, Jane Dammen. Encyclopedia of Qur’an.
• Pals, Daniel L. 2006. Eight Theories of Religion, 2nd Ed., Oxford University Press.
• Pals, Daniel L. 2008. Introducing Religion: Readings from the Classic Theorists, Oxford University Press.

I grew up with a bias towards my own culture and judged cultures and religions that were different from my own based upon this perspective. Since no one challenged my Catholic beliefs, I left home for college somewhat sheltered and mostly uninformed about other religions and cultures. While at college, I made new and diverse friends and I would bring these friends home with me. My father said to me when I left for college, whoever I bring home is always welcome at our table. My mother has eight years of formal education in a one room rural school house and has lived her entire life in the same community where she was born and raised Catholic. Several years ago, my mother spoke with profound eloquence and simple affection about my classmates and friends that she cooked for and fed around her kitchen table. She said she grew up prejudiced because she never met anyone who was Jewish or Muslim. But after providing a place for these guests at her table, she grew to respect and love them as much as her eight children did. She is grateful for having reached out to people of diverse backgrounds and religions. She taught us that it is around a table that friends are made and prejudices disappear.

My recent trip to Turkey refreshed these good memories around my mother’s kitchen table. It was an educational and cultural exchange program to meet with university professors and community leaders in Turkey to promote international and interfaith dialogue. The program was organized by a non-profit organization in St. Louis, MO named the Niagara Foundation, and I had the honor to be selected to join. My experiences in Turkey of sharing meals in the homes of university professors and their families opened my eyes to our common bond even though an ocean and religion separates us. It was around their family tables that I again was reminded what my mother taught us: that much of the prejudice that exists among different cultures and religions is because we do not invite others into our homes and cook a meal for them. Warm food and kind conversation have the capacity to create bonds that can erase prejudices.

I was expecting family homes in Turkey to be quite different from mine, but instead, amidst the slight differences in cuisine and not wearing shoes, I knew I was at home. The bountiful bean salads, stuffed peppers, seasoned couscous, lemon chicken, lamb, lentil soup, cucumber salad, baklava, and more all adorned my hosts’ tables. How I wanted my mother to experience this! So, upon my return home, I invited Muslim friends to her home for a meal around her table. It was a simple but significant meal that bridged two cultures and two religions as one.

Having this opportunity to interact intimately with Turkish families reminds me of the story of the prophet Abraham, the father of Jewish, Christian, and Muslim followers. He welcomed three strangers into his home. And because of his hospitality, he was blessed a hundredfold with a son, Isaac, who was promised to him and Sarah in their old age by the visitors who were angels disguised as men (Genesis 18: 1-15). As Abraham and Sarah’s son Isaac is a symbol of God’s generosity, so too the Muslim families are a symbol to me of the blessings that hospitality brings to peoples’ lives.

Traveling through Turkey, my appreciation for the people grew. From the sprawling city of Istanbul to the rural cities touching the Black Sea, I could see the similarities in lifestyle, just like in the U.S. The rural countryside appeared similar to my rural home, and as our bus traveled through the rolling hills dotted with wheat fields and small towns, it reminded me of home. Stopping at a gas station and communicating with local rural people who do not speak English, it was comforting how well we could understand each other without speaking the same language. A smile, a handshake, and a meal go a long way.

While in Istanbul, I enjoyed seeing the ripe watermelons and other fruits and vegetables being loaded into wooden carts and carried into the market. The urban markets in the U.S. are similar to the markets in Turkey, not in scale but in essence. Both possess an energy that tantalizes the senses, where a local harvest awaits to be tasted and savored at home. It’s as if time stands still among vendors and shoppers, bartering and engaging in rituals that have persevered and evolved over the centuries for generations. Whether in Turkey or the U.S., shopping in an open air market unites humanity in a common ritual that is at the heart of every culture: how we produce, purchase, and prepare our food.

The occasional neighborhood mosque blends in with Turkish urban life, and upon entering a mosque courtyard, I found luscious green space with colorful flowers bordering red tomatoes and green peppers, a quiet respite from gray urban life. Catholic churches often provide the same reprieve for busy urban residents and tired tourists who grow weary of the harshness of industrial life and the demands that city life places on them. Churches, synagogues, and mosques provide sacred places to pause and be refreshed, knowing that God is present in the most obscure and discreet corners of life. Perhaps this is one essential role that religion procured through the centuries: to provide shelter from the utilitarian survival rituals being play out around us. Whether church steeples, synagogue towers, or mosque minarets, all remind us to pause and remember that when our day’s work is complete, there is more to be aware of and more to count than the coins in our pocket.

During our time in Turkey, we visited several universities, which was a highlight for me. As a university professor and social worker, I was eager to meet professors and students to discuss their curriculum and scholarship. Our interactions were informative and engaging. While on campus, I was invited to attend the Friday (Jumu’ah) prayer services, the name of which is derived from the Arabic word that means “gathering.” Muslims believe to gather in one place as one soul is a pillar of their faith. I was deeply moved by the prayer, and felt united with the people in the room. It was an honor for me to be shown by a faculty member the ritual washing of the hands, forearms, head, and feet with a threefold movement of the hand. This Middle Eastern ritual is retained in the Catholic liturgy with the priest washing his hands prior to the Eucharistic prayer. The rinsing out the mouth, blowing out of the nose, and scrubbing out the ears reminded me of the Catholic ritual of cleansing the mind, mouth, and heart with a threefold movement of the thumb before the Gospel is read on the Sabbath. The sermon (Khutbah) was impossible for me to follow, but my host was gracious in whispering to me a translation. During the Catholic prayer service, we too stand and kneel throughout our prayer, being reminded that God is great (Allahu akbar). Although I did not understand the words spoken, my soul was refreshed and nourished by the ritual prayers.

When I was a young man living in a homogeneous culture, I did not seek to understand and appreciate what other cultures believed and practiced, nor did I challenge the beliefs of my ancestors. Today I embrace the faith of my ancestors from a different advantage point, having traveled and tasted other religions and cultures. This new vision is both a gift and a responsibility, which calls me to recognize the sacredness of the faith that has been handed down to me. Returning to the U.S., I brought with me the Abrahamic thread that unites all Muslims, Jews, and Christians in our quest to know and serve God. Each day I wrap my waist and my heart with this thread so that I might seek the intersections, both within and across each faith community. This is my responsibility, which I am learning from the Vatican II teachings of the Catholic community and the Hizmet (Gulen) movement in Turkey.

Riding in a boat on the sea that bisects Istanbul, I envisioned the Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, and Ottomans who sailed these same seas. This city is at the crossroads of human civilization, where war and peace have shaped people’s lives for centuries. I imagined Romans conquering this city and the Crusades trampling through it; I imagined the Ottomans achieving domination ach le an indelible cultural and religious mark on the fabric of this region and creating the culture we know today as Turkish.

The Niagara Foundation is bridging the vast expanses that separate the two continents, the two religions, the two cultures. I am confident that this effort will have immense consequences. In the memorialized words of Robert F. Kennedy, who in June, 1966, delivered the Day of Affirmation Speech at the University of Cape Town to the National Union of South African Students: “Few will have the greatness to bend history itself, but each of us can work to change a small portion of events. It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy, these ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.”

And so I, too, have newfound responsibilities since I have toured Turkey through the generosity of the Niagara Foundation. I pray for the courage to stand up for the ideals embodied in my Catholic faith, and to stand against injustices by embracing Niagara’s mission “to serve societal peace, love, and friendship wisely and compassionately in support of human dignity and the common good by striving to bring forth the common values of humanity; values such as understanding, tolerance, respect, and compassion.”

Gary Behrman is Adjunct Professor at Washington University in St. Louis