On Wednesday night, Feb. 17, a talk moderated by David Coleman, the director of Tufts University's Third Day Gospel Choir, and featuring social historian Anne C. Bailey, aimed to answer the above question. I believe that the answer comes down to how we conceive religion, and it must focus on one concept — as the world of monotheistic theology agrees, God is love.
For those who have a personal relationship with God, this question is easy to answer. God has a positive effect on racial relations and on every worldly problem. However, for those who do not feel like they have a personal relationship with God, the question is equally easy to answer. Simply look at the record of organized religion, and we must conclude that God has had a negative effect on racial relations. After all, that record is ugly. It's not just about the Crusades or the history of European Christians in Africa or Islamic radicalism. Any time a religious organization acts as a political organization, that's dangerous. But there is a clear way to cut through the contradiction between these two answers: A distinction must be made between God (love), and those who act in the name of God — especially those of them who are empowered by religious institutions. To keep this distinction clear, and to defend religions like Christianity and Islam from their potentially destructive representatives (and bystanders), we must adopt a new paradigm for religious practice. Those of us who wish to see God as a positive influence in our lives — and those who wish to convince others that God is a force for good — must embrace religion as a personal pursuit.
I come from a religion that focuses entirely on one's personal relationship with God. We have no preachers, and we require no person to serve as a link from God to man. Our prayers — and therefore our lives — are focused on demonstrating, according to Mary Baker Eddy's "Science and Health," a "fervent desire for growth in grace, expressed in patience, meekness, love and good deeds." Because of this focus on the individual's path toward understanding, we don't have strong social or political institutions. So after Hurricane Katrina hit Louisiana, my sister and I joined a local Methodist group that drove down to New Orleans and volunteered. Religious institutions like this can be strong forces for social good. However, to remain altruistic and benign, these institutions must perceive themselves as simple gathering places, venues and givers of opportunity. They can avoid doing harm by staying in touch with their purpose: providing a framework for individuals' spiritual development.
Some of you earnest believers in God may ask, "How can I spread God's goodness and help other people without getting on a mountaintop or a TV and broadcasting my beliefs?" If you express your best self, if you try to live by Jesus' teachings, or Mohammad's, or Buddha's, or the Guru Granth Sahib, or the example of Gandhi, people will take note. They will wonder how you managed to forgive when forgiveness seemed impossible. They will wonder how you persisted when defeat seemed imminent. They will wonder how you were honest when deceit appeared in your self−interest. They will either want to follow your example or want to know how you did it, and this gives you the opportunity to tell them what empowered you to do the right thing and to know what was right.
Few people who call themselves religious or spiritual — anywhere in the world — will deny the connection between deity and love. Now go back to the question, but insert "love" in place of "God."
Is love part of the problem or the solution?
...Now what kind of question is that?
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Adrian Dahlin is a senior majoring in political science and environmental studies.
