Entry 1 - Hope this works!

I am just in from work, and realizing that this entry is officially due in the next hour or so! I guess I’ll start with the Van Voorst reading, “Eastern Scripture among the World’s Religions”. It was an intriguing read, particularly for someone like myself often made to interpret Eastern scriptures using foreign and incompatible conceptualizations. With respect to Van Voorst’s (Perhaps we can refer to him henceforth as VV, shall we?) claim that he is able to situate the scriptures in “the context of their original usage”, I find it as appealing as I do problematic. It is a claim that appears, at least to me, to be rendered false by virtue of the limitations that VV himself establishes in his essay. He aptly commences his work with a section entitled “A Brief History of Scripture Scholarship” outlining the various inappropriate approaches employed thus far in the study if Asian religion, beginning with the (1) mere translation of such texts in a contextually vacuous manner, in isolation of the actual regard, role and usage of the texts by practitioners of the respective faiths, and “progressing” towards (2) the reliance upon ritual, myth, symbolism, and non-textual elements in order to “understand” the faith. VV proposes a happy compromise, a “third wave” of which his work is a part, one neither deprived of, nor indulgent in, the examination of scripture. Presumably by avoiding both these extremes, VV is able to lead his readers toward an understanding of the scriptures’ “original” usages.

One of the wisest things, in my opinion, which VV advances is that “the relationship between scripture and religion is reciprocal and dynamic”. However, this would hold much more rational appeal if the term “scripture” wasn’t as evasive and fraught with incompatibilities to Asian religion. What, exactly, is “scripture” in this context? May Asian religion be accurately described as possessing, using, or revering “scripture”? Scriptures, argues VV, come in various forms, numbers, etc., but are united in one common criterion: existence in written form. He speaks to the significance and meaningfulness of oral scripture, but only when it is read and heard among believers. What if it is “scripture” is heard without ever being read, existing in memory alone, preserved by an ancient, immeasurable lineage? Would the utterances be any less revered of significant to the followers of the faith? Would they then not constitute “scripture”?

The claim that VV makes at the outset is particularly intriguing in light of the fact that he is painfully aware of the obstacles he faces. He is very frank about the fact that some religions do not have scriptures and that scriptural use is not uniform among faiths. Neither does he attempt to conceal the enormous pitfalls presented by the reliance upon translation. He further elaborates on the Protestant biases having infiltrated scholarship on Eastern Scripture, particularly that scripture must written, must be oriented toward individual reflection, and must be accessible to objective academic scrutiny. How, then, does he propose to offset these shortcoming in order to bring the reader to “the context of their original usage”? Indeed, as wise as it is to articulate the dynamic reciprocity between scripture and religion, the relation is of little use when “scripture” functions as an unknown variable.

Are we any closer to defining “religion” as we are “scripture”? Arguable, “religion”, too, evades definition. Therefore, saying that “the relationship between scripture and religion is reciprocal and dynamic” is as illuminating as relating “x” to “y”. Jonathan Z Smith, in his essay “Religion, Religions, Religious” does a good job of demonstrating the limitations inherent in the attempt to define “religion”. He outlines various European presumptions in employing the term “religious” throughout its history. Asian religions has undoubtedly born the brunt of such prejudices. I will not bore you here with Smith’s ample evidence, but introduce the article to reiterate Smith’s conclusion that religion can be defined in many ways, in so many ways, in fact, that one must assent to the fact that religion is ultimately beyond the grasp of academic definition. He asserts that it is not a native term, but rather one established by scholars as a “second-order” generic concept constituting an impassible “horizon” in the study of religion. What does he mean? I believe that the tension Smith posits relates to what VV refers to as the discrepancy between one who reads scripture as “outsiders” (engaged in a scholarly, noncommittal fashion) verses one who reads as an “insiders” (those who regards the texts as more than objects of study). Smith’s hazy horizon of undefined “religion” is maintained as long as the scholar remains distinct from the practitioner, outside and separate from the “clarity” of practice. However, for he/she to assume the role of practitioner, the formal “study” ceases, and along with it any need for definition. Of all the analogies which could mirror this distinction, perhaps my favourite is that of he who “understands” the water from the shore, and he who experiences it directly by swimming in it. Scholarship by its very mode of operation is barred from the “insider” perspective where the ebb and flow of the religion – along with its regard and use for scripture – becomes directly accessible, intuitive, or remotely familiar. Furthermore, even if the practitioner possesses a contemporary familiarity with the meaning, significance, and usage of the a scripture, he/she could not possess an appreciation of its function throughout history. I therefore regard with mild suspicion VV’s alleged ability to set Asian scripture in the “context of their actual usage”.

[ In have never written or read a blog before: does one sign off like in an e-mail, or in an essay?? ]

Anyways, thanks for reading!
Raj

PS – There’s one other thought I wanted to play with before closing. VV quotes Sam D. Gill (p 10) who proposes the distinction that scripture is either “informative” (i.e. relating to doctrine, history, ethics, etc.), or it is “performative” (used in rituals, benedictions, etc.). However, I am not convinced that these are separations in the scripture itself as much as they constitute distinct modalities of engagement with scripture. One can interface with the same except in the “information” mode, reading it and comprehending it, as well as in the mode of “performance”, singing it, chanting it, enacting it, etc. This dichotomy seems somehow to relate to, or represent, the insider and outsider perspective. It reflects, for me, the distinction between the landlocked observer, and the participatory swimmer. Not sure how to flesh this idea out…or perhaps its best left in its skeletal stage…I’m entirely open to feedback.