In his editorial, "Against the Religion Department" [Jan. 23], Matthew Lubin combines a flagrant misunderstanding of the Religion Department's goals with poor reasoning and writing ability. The result is a melodramatic concern for problems that don't exist, and a proposal which wouldn't address those problems, should they ever exist.
Within Lubin's rambling editorial, there lies, we believe, a misguided description of the purpose of the Religion department. From what we gather, his logic is this: (1) The study of religion must be approached from a spiritual viewpoint or one which is "temporal" (by which we assume he means academic or worldly). (2) If the study of religion is spiritual, it doesn't belong at a "reasonable" institution. (3) If the study of religion is temporal, it doesn't deserve its own department.
Lubin worries that in a department devoted to the "spiritual" study of religion, professors will "spend so much time half-apologizing for the egregious poppycock their studied religions have propagated that they would have very little time left over for advancing studies." The problem with this argument is that Lubin equivocates over the word "advancing." To advance the study of religion is not to "advance" it in such as way that professors suggest that religion ought to be embraced.
Rather, the department studies the phenomenon of religion as, among other things, philosophers, historians and ethicists. It is not invested in studying religion as theologians; this is the mission of a divinity school, which indeed would be inappropriate to compare to other academic departments.
Religion professors, then, have no need to "half-apologize" for any "irrationalism and implicit contradiction" that religion might contain, because within the department, they serve as academicians, not practicing clergy. In fact, students and professors of religion constructively use these inconsistencies to develop students' critical thinking, which is a goal of any liberal arts education.
Lubin then says that if a religion department doesn't promote the practice of religion, it must study religion from an academic point of view, in which case it should be taught in departments like history. Lubin seems to cite four consequences of maintaining a separate Religion department. First, he says that a separate department privileges "discredited thought systems." To support this statement, he uses the example of pre-Copernican astronomy, perhaps implying that because the Catholic Church once held the view that the Earth is the center of the universe, the Religion department privileges this view by studying Christianity. Once again, we would remind Lubin that views held by various religions are not necessarily those of the Religion Department.
Next, Lubin asserts that a separate Religion Department deems some religions "great" and others "minor" by, we gather, devoting the majority of its courses to Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism and Islam. We grant that of the courses the department offers which are devoted to particular religions, most are concerned with these five. The reasoning behind this, however, is not that these are superior faiths, but rather that they are the most widely practiced and studied, have been the most influential, and have withstood the test of time. Moreover, the department has recently added to its faculty specialists in Native American and African religions. The department also offers numerous courses in comparative religion, ethics, and the philosophy of religion which invite consideration of any and all religious ideologies.
The concern Lubin expresses for shunning certain religions leads us to his next point, that a separate religion department lends itself to "[hijacking] by sundry ... eccentric and unbecoming sects." The overwhelming paranoia of this claim aside, Lubin contradicts himself when he decries these sects as "sundry" and "unbecoming." If Lubin's previous concern was that certain religions would be marginalized by a separate religion department, why does he marginalize them himself?
Lubin then worries that religion has caused bigotry which a separate department only serves to perpetuate. We acknowledge that religions contribute to prejudice. Following Lubin's logic, however, we shouldn't study Nazism, since the History department would be perpetuating anti-Semitism. Whether Lubin likes it or not, both Hitler and religion are important parts of human history, and to study either is not to advocate it, but rather to understand it. Those who don't know their history are doomed to repeat it.
In response to these concerns, Lubin proposes to combine the departments of religion and philosophy, or to scatter the religion courses among social science departments. We fail to see why either solution would solve any of the (nonexistent) problems Lubin cites, and Lubin does not offer an explanation himself.
Moreover, maintaining a separate Religion department serves a purpose. While the Department does look at religion from the viewpoints of other departments, we do not limit our views to one discipline at a time. In any given course, a particular religion may be examined from a psychological, ethical and anthropological point of view, for example, simultaneously. If religion courses were to be relegated to different departments within the College, students would have to limit their studies to one way of viewing a religious ideology per course. Part of what makes the Religion department so unique, but also so wonderful, is that it lends itself to an interdisciplinary approach.
We can't hope to end the bigotry and violence to which religion contributes without first understanding where our beliefs come from, and where our differences lie. One of the benefits of studying religion is an increased understanding of each other's belief systems, and, in turn, an understanding of the way in which we lead our lives, and the people we are. Ironically, Lubin has himself perpetuated one form of bigotry: attacking that which he doesn't understand.
