People’s religious convictions inform their social, cultural, and political perspectives and preferences. What people highly care about is significantly influenced by what they believe, either through faith or humanistic concern. Even secular people have religious questions about atheism or agnosticism (i.e., everyone is spiritually vested in what they care about).
Everyone has a “religious” commitment. In a loose sense, secular and faith systems’ values bear on social and political matters of interest. Particularly around culture and what rights, liberties, and freedoms exist to live with the power to impose and live as one wants with progressively deepening immorality, destruction of the family, cultural chaos, and perpetual war. Secular worldview categories of subjectivism and relativism are means by which divisions of thought and understanding exist to ply their will through policy and distribution of resources.
In a general sense, subjectivism is a way to limit knowledge to personal or private meaning and experience. While subjective facts are valid, subjectivism as the target of secular reason toward belief systems isolates and attempts to erode absolute truth. It’s a way of thinking that exalts itself against God because it’s a way of thought that says what is supremely good and right can only be ascertained by individual feeling or apprehension.
Relativity is another concept that is valid in a limited sense. However, relativism as a secular theory denies humanity any ability to possess objective truth and universally meaningful knowledge concerning metaphysical realities (i.e., God, Creation, spiritual realm, supernatural incidents, etc.). Relativism is a way for secular humanity and culture to insulate themselves from ultimate truth to escape moral absolutes. Meaning and truth become relative to each culture, person, situation, relationship, and outcome.
Both subjectivism and relativism are subordinate to religious and secular pluralism theory and doctrines. They’re together systems of contradiction against absolute truth, moral certainty, and unwanted political power. To develop and maintain social cohesion and order, religious diplomacy, not interfaith initiatives that give an equal weight of credibility, is, in my view, the most sensible and orderly way to preserve freedom and conviction of absolute truth. While love for God and people is not mutually exclusive from a Christian perspective, secular society doesn’t have the authority or capacity to steer Christianity to keep itself safe from Islam or other harmful religious beliefs. The godless mind is subject to the absolute interests of God.
Excerpt:
Pluralism, Inclusivism, Exclusivism Continuum
Isolating the philosophical theory called religious pluralism raises a question. If religious pluralism is one class of meta-religious theories about religious variety, are there other classes? The typical typology of responses to religious variety contrasts pluralism with two other general classes of meta-religious theories called “exclusivism” and “inclusivism.”1
[[[ Religious exclusivism maintains that only one religion is genuine or true; only one faith actually brings a believer into contact with God. For a Christian exclusivist of the strongest sort, God will save only people who hear the gospel of Jesus Christ, know about his death on the cross, and explicitly confess him as Savior. This strong form of exclusivism is also called “restrictivism.” ]]]
Exclusivism comes in various subtypes. First, one sub-form of exclusivism modifies restrictivism by allowing for a few exceptions. One such exception is a provision for the universal salvation of all who die before they reach some cognitive age of accountability. Second, another sub-form of exclusivism asserts that God ensures an opportunity to believe for those who he knows would believe. This uses a middle knowledge view of divine foreknowledge (where God knows what every person would do in every hypothetical situation). God makes sure that the message of salvation gets to every person who would believe if he heard the gospel. God ordains that all who would receive salvation if given the chance actually do get that chance.2 Third, yet another sub-form of exclusivism affirms that all people have an opportunity to hear the gospel, and this could include the chance to receive salvation after death.3
As a midway point between exclusivism and pluralism, some follow religious inclusivism. Inclusivism agrees with exclusivism that only one religion is ultimately true. But it shares with pluralism the conviction that sincere adherents of religions other than the true faith may still come into contact with God, find spiritual life, or achieve the religious goal. So, for example, a person who adopted Muslim inclusivism might say that Islam is actually the only true faith, rooted in the one, valid revelation of the ultimate Reality, Allah. Still, this hypothetical Muslim inclusivist might say, a faithful Jewish follower of the Mosaic law could still receive a heavenly reward, if he is faithful to the dictates of Judaism. For the Muslim inclusivist, Judaism is not the true faith, and yet the faithful Jew who follows Torah may still go to paradise. Paradise is achievable due to such things as the Jewish believer’s religious sincerity or piety, the truth of Islam, and the good will of Allah. For the Christian inclusivist, Christ is the ultimate revelation of God. Salvation is possible for people who explicitly follow other faiths. But this salvation is always from or through Christ.
Inclusivism also admits of sub-divisions. The most important is a distinction between “constitutive inclusivism” and “normative inclusivism.” In both versions of inclusivism, Christian inclusivists agree that a person can be saved without explicit saving knowledge of Jesus. Constitutive inclusivism affirms that Christ’s work is the necessary ground of all salvation, and other religions cannot provide the ontological power for salvation. Anyone who is saved receives salvation only because of the power and atonement of Jesus Christ. Yet someone could fail to accept Jesus Christ, follow a religious path that is in no way Christian, and still receive salvation by following what light she does have. Again, the metaphysical ground of this salvation is always the work of Christ.
A version of constitutive inclusivism called the “implicit faith view” is closest to exclusivism. The Christian version of this view says that a person can be saved if he meets these conditions: he knows nothing of Christ, he rejects the false religion around him, and he follows any valid natural revelation he does have. He implicitly follows Christ by worshiping the Creator. This is the most restricted form of constitutive inclusivism because it holds that anyone who explicitly rejects Christ cannot receive salvation in this way, irrespective of his sincerity. In other words, those who have never heard of Christ, and so never have a chance to reject him explicitly, can trust him implicitly by following whatever light they do have. So, unlike more liberal inclusivists, defenders of an implicit faith view will say that a person who does not explicitly follow Christ can be saved in spite of, but never because of, anything that another faith might offer him. Even though historical accident keeps him from hearing explicitly of Christ, he may receive salvation by rejecting the false religion he sees around him and calling on God. And he is saved solely on the basis of the reality of Christ’s work.4
Normative inclusivism goes well beyond constitutive inclusivism. A Christian defender of normative inclusivism will deny the necessity of Christ’s work for salvation. Instead, Jesus offers one valid religious path among several. Initially, this sounds like a form of pluralism. But it differs slightly. In normative inclusivism, one religion is the “norm.” This one normative religion is the best, the clearest, the least ambiguous path to God. Still, other religions possess validity though to a lesser degree. So the one valid religious path is the first among several valid equals. This norming religion functions as the normative example, the paradigm, by which all paths to God are judged as more or less salvific. But it is not the only path through which people may come to God.
The three-part typology—exclusivism, inclusivism, and pluralism, along with the various subtypes—is not without difficulties. Though many people use this vocabulary for discussing the relationships among religions, it is subject to several objections. First, some object to a priori typologies in general. Paul Griffiths, for example, pointed out that those who develop general typologies of responses to the world’s religions are often not sufficiently knowledgeable about the religions to categorize them adequately.5 And he rightly warned us to look at how the theological axioms of an interpreter’s religion influence his definitions of the categories.6 But while Griffiths’ point is valid, it is also limited. His argument cuts against analyses developed by people who lack a complete knowledge base. But it should not undermine typologies developed by people who do have the requisite knowledge. It does not point to some in principle difficulty with developing typologies. And the fact that our typologies will always fall short of perfect categorization, with no gray areas between categories, does not mean that typologies are completely useless. The lesson here is that while typologies are useful, their categories should not run roughshod over carefully researched descriptions of the world’s religions. Fair enough.
A second and much more important objection is this: different thinkers use the threefold continuum to answer two entirely different questions. This leads to different accounts of the meaning of the three categories. This is a major problem that causes significant confusion. Take exclusivism, for example. On the one hand, Alvin Plantinga defined ‘exclusivism’ in this manner: “the tenets or some of the tenets of one religion—Christianity, let’s say—are in fact true … [and] … other religious beliefs that are [logically] incompatible with those tenets are false.”7 On the other hand, John Hick used ‘exclusivism’ in this way: “only those who follow the teachings of a particular religion are saved.”8 In the abstract, these two definitions themselves are perfectly in order. Both Plantinga and Hick describe relatively clear meta-religious, philosophical ideas. But they offer very different definitions of ‘exclusivism’ because they tacitly use the threefold typology to answer two conceptually distinct questions. Both of these two questions are attempts to analyze the theology of religions discussion. But the two questions analyze very different aspects of the theology of religions discussion. It is very easy to get them confused.
[…..]
Having sketched a representative way of explaining the concepts of exclusivism, inclusivism, and pluralism (along with some subtypes), I turn to the core issue of prolegomena: What are the implications of these theories for evangelical theology? The fact of religious variety and the rise of varied philosophical interpretations of that fact pose questions that need answers in their own right. This is the issue of religious pluralism per se. But as evangelicals, we are unalterably committed to the uniqueness of Christian revelation. This certainly includes exclusivism and may allow for constitutive inclusivism. [….] Yet commitments to pluralism are pervasive in our postmodern cultural milieu. So that leads to the fundamental question for theological methodology.
[….]
Finally, if we do conclude that evangelical theology is a rationally responsible discipline in this context, then how should we live in a pluralist world? Can evangelicals live as neighbors with adherents of other faiths as well as those who reject all faiths? Gilkey says that the awareness of religious variety requires a new ethic of relationship that includes respectful dialogue, acknowledgment of truth in other perspectives, and a willingness to listen and learn. But does the awareness of religious variety require religious pluralism? In the minds of some contemporary people, exclusivism is incompatible with an ethic of respect and dialogue. This is true both of some pluralists who value respectful dialogue (and therefore reject exclusivism) and of some exclusivists who disavow pluralism (and therefore renounce respectful dialogue).
David K. Clark and John S. Feinberg, To Know and Love God: Method for Theology (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2003), 320–324.
Clark Citations
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1 The standard threefold typology can be traced back to Alan Race, Christians and Religious Pluralism (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis, 1983). Race himself argues for pluralism. But in “John Hick’s Pluralist Philosophy of World Religions” (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Marquette University, 1999), Paul Eddy points out that the essence of the threefold typology was implicit in John Hick’s “Copernican Revolution” a decade earlier, for example, in Hick’s God and the Universe of Faiths (London: Macmillan, 1973).
2 William Lane Craig, “Middle Knowledge and Christian Exclusivism,” Sophia 34 (1995): 120–139.
3 This view draws on 1 Peter 3:19–20
4 This is built on A. H. Strong’s suggestions. For discussion, see David K. Clark, “Is Special Revelation Necessary for Salvation?” in Through No Fault of Their Own, ed.
5 Paul Griffiths, “Modalizing the Theology of Religions,” Journal of Religion 73 (1993): 382–389; idem, “Encountering Buddha Theologically,” Theology Today 47 (1990): 39–51; idem, On Being Mindless: Buddhist Meditation and the Mind-Body Problem (LaSalle, Ill.: Open Court, 1986).
6 Idem, “A Properly Christian Approach to Religious Plurality,” Anglican Theological Review 79 (1997): 3–26.
7 Alvin Plantinga, “Pluralism: A Defense of Religious Exclusivism,” in Rationality of Belief and the Plurality of Faith, ed. Thomas Senor (Ithaca, N.Y.: Cornell University Press, 1995), 194.
8 Examples of others who assume a soteriological definition are Anne Hunt, “No Other Name? A Critique of Religious Pluralism,” Pacifica 3 (1990): 45–60; John Sanders, No Other Name: An Investigation into the Destiny of the Unevangelized (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1992); and the authors of More Than One Way? (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan, 1995).
