Christology from the perspective of the African American

Christology from the perspective of the African American and
Insights gained in understanding Black Theology from the viewpoints
Of African American theologians and scholars.

This research paper will explore the doctrine of Christology from the perspective of the African American and insights gained in understanding Black Theology from the viewpoints of African American theologians and scholars. This paper will provide a basic definition of the doctrine and present various perspectives of Black male theologians as well as Womanist theologians as they relate to Christology, along with central themes of Black Theology as they relate to the person of Jesus Christ.
Before we can begin to examine Christology from the African American perspective we must first define Christology within the theological framework of the Christian church. Alister E. McGrath’s “Glossary of Theological Terms defines Christology as the section of theology dealing with the identity of Jesus Christ particularly the question of the relation of his divine and human nature.

The Catholic Dictionary defines Christology as that part of theology that deals with “Our Lord Jesus Christ. It comprises the doctrines concerning the person of Christ and His works. The person of Jesus Christ is the second person of the Most Holy Trinity, the Son of the Word of the Father, who “was incarnate by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary and was made man. The stories and mysteries, which were foretold in Old Testament, are revealed in the person of Christ and in the New Testament.
Many scholars refer to Christology as the branch of theology that seeks to explain the saving work or Christ from the approach of describing who the person, Jesus was. In traditional Christian theology Christology logically precedes soteriology, the doctrine that deals with Christ’s saving work. However in the history of the Christian church soteriology actually preceded Christology because of the belief of the early Christians that the work Jesus did, the miracles, healing and teaching led to the claims about who he was.
The doctrine of Christology originated in the early Christian Church in an attempt to answer the questions: “Who was or who is Jesus? Why was he called the Messiah and believed by many to be the anointed one? What did/does Jesus represent in regards to the salvation of human beings and eternal life? These are just a few of the questions that theologians wrestle with concerning the doctrine of Christology.
The Greek word “christos” means “anointed one” and “logos” means “word about.” Therefore Christology is concerned with the union of the divine and human natures. Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ and the one divine Person, the Son of God. Christians believe that Jesus is God or the second person of the Trinity who became incarnate in Jesus of Nazareth.

The Christian Scriptures, and particularly the Gospels serves as our primary sources for learning about the person of Christ. One theme is consistent throughout the Canon. All of the books deal in some way with the life and ministry of Jesus and the impact he had on the early Christian community and his followers. The responses to Jesus’ question “Who do you say that I am” have helped Christians understand their faith and witness since Peter’s first answer that Jesus is the Messiah. (Matthew 16:16) In a rich variety of images and concepts the New Testament describes, teaches and affirms who Jesus is, what he has done and what remains to be done. It was the issue of slavery and the treatment of African Americans by Christians who preached Jesus as savior of all that led to the development of Black Theology, which seeks to answer the question “Who is Jesus Christ for African Americans? Indeed the answer to this question encompasses a lengthy discourse along with indepth research concerning Christology. The response to the question definitely requires an examination of the culture and the experience of African Americans in their journeys through the Christian faith. It also entails a major discussion of the black theology that has emerged in the United States as a result of slavery and the black experience in America.
But the point, which must be made in response to Jesus’ question “But who do you say that I am?” in dealing with the African American perspective concerning Christology can only be understood through religious discourse that has deep cultural roots and profound theological implications. Both African American male theologians as well as women theologians are doing much work in the area of Christology.
James Cone, one of the first black theologians to emphasize the need for a black theology affirms that Christian theology begins and ends with Christology. Cone states that because Jesus Christ is the focal point of all we know about the Christian gospel, it is therefore necessary to explore the person of Jesus Christ and his work in light of the black perspective. Cone believes that in order to make Jesus Christ relevant to black reality, the task of black theology must begin with asking the question “What does Jesus Christ mean for the oppressed blacks of the land?” (Cone: Black theology of Liberation 110-111)
Cone further contends that the investigation of Jesus Christ must involve the identity of the historical Jesus. Without knowledge of the character and behavior of the historical Jesus of Galilee it is impossible for blacks to assess who Jesus of the 21st century is. Before we can determine the mode of Jesus existence today we must take seriously the examination of the historical Jesus and it’s implication on the African American’s practice of the Christian faith. According to Cone, black theology must show that Albert Cleage’s description Jesus as the Black Messiah “is not the product of minds distorted by their own oppressed condition, but is rather the most meaningful christological statement in our time. (Cone – 111-114)
Demonstration of the relationship of the historical Jesus Christ and the oppressed, begins with a serious encounter with the biblical revelation beginning with the birth of Jesus Christ, continuing on to Jesus’ baptism and temptation, next understanding Jesus’ ministry, and finally a critical examination of the death and resurrection of Jesus. Cone concludes that the gospels are not biographies of Jesus; they are “gospel—that is good news about what God has done in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.” Christology from the black perspective must begin with this focus, which recognizes history as an indispensable foundation of Christology. This foundation prevents us from making Jesus what we wish him to be at certain moments of existence. By taking a serious and critical historical examination of Jesus in the New Testament, we know who Jesus is today and who he was. (Cone 119)
James H. Evans dialogues with other black theologians from the perspective of “Jesus Christ: Liberator and Mediator,” in We Have Been Believers. Evans states that the idea of Jesus is so deeply ingrained in the black religious experience that some have given a negative assessment of black religion and the doctrine of Christology. They have gone so far as to say in a negative assessment that the “Christianity of African people in the United States is, in essence, Jesusology. James Evans is clear to distinguish that “implicit within this criticism is a curious dichotomy between the humanity and divinity of Jesus the Christ, that is indeed inconsistent with African-American theological thought.”
Evans details the development of Christology in two clearly defined positions regarding Jesus. The first focuses on the idea of Jesus as the “Messiah” with all the Hebraic implications and Biblical interpretations, where Jesus is referred to as a liberator of an oppressed humanity, freeing them from powers of sin and social structures. The spiritual implications existent in this position found in the Luken text quoted by Howard Thurman; “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, to preach good news to the poor…” provides the foundation. The second position focuses on the notion of Jesus as “the Christ,” who is first and foremost understood to be the “Son of God.” From this standpoint Jesus is referred to as a “mediator between the forces of evil, the effects of sin, and the forces of good, the powers of redemption.” Most black theologians fall somewhere between these two positions.
Regarding a black Messiah noted black theologians such J. Deotis Roberts, James Cone, and Gayraud Wilmore who hold centrist positions regarding Christology agree primarily on the position that the notion of a “black Messiah in African-American religious thought is primarily symbolic, however it is important as a theological symbol because it grounds the biblical teaching in the context of the black culture and the black experience.” (need note)
African American theologians struggle with the christological issues the same as their contemporary European scholars. However it is important to note that the particular shape that a doctrine of Christ that will be understood in the black community and the black church is that which is closest in the hearts of African American Christians. The two emerging issues for Christology in black theology in the twenty-first century according to James Evans are: 1) the “mediation of traditional sources of sustenance and resistance in African American religious expressions, and 2) the liberation of oppressed persons.” The issue of mediation of traditional sources is evident in the writings of womanist theologians, such as Jacquelyn Grant, another topic for a separate research paper. The second topic of liberation is central to the mindset of many black Christian theologians.
Jacquelyn Grant, in her book White Women’s Christ and Black Women’s Jesus, challenges the feminist perspective of Christology and argues that a womanist Christology must center on the humanity of Jesus and not on Jesus’ maleness. The humanity of Jesus serves as the primary reference for the liberation freedom that black women have experienced in today’s society. As an African American woman I am in agreement with Grant that Jesus the Christ represents “ a three-fold significance,” in that Jesus identifies with the “little people,” or the people in the margins, secondly Jesus affirms the basic humanity of these, as “the least,” and thirdly Jesus inspires active hope in the struggle for a resurrected and liberated existence.”
Grant outlines the beginnings of Womanist Christology based on the black woman’s expression of faith as revealed in the black church. Although she rejects the traditional “male image of the divine,” emphasizing that the significance of Christology is not found in the maleness of Jesus, but rather in his humanity, she does not however, question the fact that Jesus died on the cross in order to save us from our sin – the heart of the Christian faith. Grant’s Christology has been shaped has been shaped by the black church experience through the voices of women like Jareena Lee and Sojourner Truth.
Another voice among black women is that of Katie Canon who contends that the Bible is the highest source of authority for most black women. It is in the Bible that black women come to relate to Jesus and find hope for the life situations and dilemmas they struggle with on a daily basis. As God-fearing women these women maintain that life in the black community is more than a defensive reaction to oppressive circumstances. The life that these women live is the “rich, colorful creativity that emerged and reemerges in the Black quest for human dignity.” And it is Jesus who provides the necessary soul for liberation.
Elaine A. Crawford in her essay “Womanist Christology: Where Have We Come From and Where Are We Going?” provides an excellent overview of the Womanist perspectives concerning the contextual theological and Christological questions, “who is Jesus,” and “how is Jesus related to humanity?” These questions that have been sources of debate since the first century give rise to womanist views regarding the person, presence, participation, and purpose of Jesus Christ. Crawford explains that although womanist theology is a relatively new discipline in theological discourse, black women have been “critiquing, reconstructing, and theologizing since Hagar’s radical theological move in the wilderness to name her God.” According to Crawford the question “Where Have We Come From and Where Are We Going?” is foundational in understanding Christology from the perspective of a womanist theology and to the emergence of black women’s consciousness.
For black women the life of Jesus Christ serves as the hermeneutical key or “interpretive reality” in one’s understanding of self and humanity. Womanist as well as feminist theologies have brought a hermeneutic of suspicion to Biblical texts and have thus developed a hermeneutical perspective that uplifts the experiences of women.
There are many voices within the Womanist theological camp as there are approaches to guiding a womanist understanding of Christ. The voices include many of those womanist theologians whose works have been cited in this research paper along with those whose struggle for freedom from slavery, civil rights and women’s rights are too numerous to mention. One other voice that should be mentioned with regard to the doctrine of Christology is that of Renita Weems, Professor of Old Testament at Vanderbilt Divinity School, Nashville, Tennessee.
Weems informs us that Jesus was changing the lives of women even before he was born and Jesus’ ministry on earth profoundly challenged society’s restrictions on women’s roles in the Jewish tradition. Weems also reminds us of the women who followed Jesus to the bitter end. The women who knew only too well what it was like to be rejected, renounced and condemned, stood at the cross where Jesus was crucified. These women who had been with him from the beginning affirmed his Messiahship, served him and prayed for him. Like their contemporary sisters who continue to be ignored, omitted, dismissed and resented by a Euro centric culture, these women found peace and encouragement in each other and in the life and words of their Savior.
Theologically, the heart and mind of the black church and the black preacher are and have always been centered in Christology. While the stories and characters of the Old Testament have played a tremendous role in the life of the black church and in the experience of the black preacher, Christology has been central. Black churchgoers have identified traditionally with Jesus, Calvary and “early Sunday morning,” as understood from the perspective of New Testament. The whole of the Black experience can be understood in the identification of the suffering Jesus. Jesus identified more readily with the oppressed, the downcast, the poor, the imprisoned, and the powerless minorities in societies (Luke 4:18,19; 15). It is this image of Christ that black people ground their theological identity in the association of their lives to that of Jesus Christ. (Jubilee Bible)
Black theologians whether male or female hold that the Jesus of history is important in the African American understanding of who he was and his significance for us today. More than anyone they have captured the essence of the significance of Jesus in the lives of Black people. They have affirmed that Jesus is the Christ, God incarnate and have argued that in light of the Black experience, Jesus is freedom. As Jesus identified with the lowly of his day, he now identifies with the lowly of this day. Jesus has provided freedom from socio-psychological, psycho-cultural, economic and political oppression of Black people. (Black Theology, 283)
In conclusion the issue of Christology and one Christ, or many Christ, or that of a Black Messiah is far from being resolved within the theological spectrum today. Whether the doctrine is tied to the classical or traditional belief or viewed from the perspectives of feminist theologians, contemporary theologians, liberationist theologians, or African American male or womanist theologians, the question posed by Jesus still remains crucial. “But who do you say that I am?” The basic understanding as Christians must be affirmed that Jesus the Christ is the way and the hope for all of humanity. Jesus liberates us from our sins and from injustice and oppression and from indifference. Jesus brings to light the God in each of us and empowers us to share that light and bear witness to others of God’s grace and salvation through the risen Christ.
In the words of Bishop Joseph A Johnson, Jr., “The Church believed that Jesus came into the world for a special purpose. He did not come into the world to give us information on questions of history or science. Jesus came into the world to bring humanity back to God and a real part of Jesus’ saving work was to impart to humankind something of his own vision of the truth of God. Jesus came to reveal the character of God and God’s purpose for humankind. The fulfillment of Jesus mission granted obedience to the will of God.” Alister E. McGrath. Christian Theology, An Introduction. (Oxford University: Blackwell Publishers, 1997.) McBrien, Richard. The Harper Collins Encyclopedia of Catholicism. San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1995.
McBrien. James H. Evans, Jr. We Have Been Believers. (Minneapolis, MN: Augsburg Fortress, 1992)
Ibid.,, 77.
Ibid. 86 Jacquelyn Grant. White Women’s Christ and Black Woman’s Jesus. Feminist Christology and Womanist Response. (Atlanta: Scholar’s Press, 1989.)
Letty M. Russell, Editor. “The Emergence of Black Feminist Consciousness.” Feminist Interpretation of the Bible. (Westminster Press: Philadelphia, 1985).

Elaine Crawford. “Womanist Christology: “Where Have We Come From and Where are We Going?” Review and Expositor Journal, Vol. 95, 1998. 367-380
Renita J. Weems. Just a Sister Away. (Lura Media: San Diego CA, 1988)

The Promise of Narrative Theology: Recovering the Gospel in the Church

Alan L. Joplin
December 13, 1999






The twentieth century has been the setting for the development of two interdependent movements: the rise of narrative theology in religious studies and the narrative in neo orthodox theology and contemporary works in hermeneutics.

A narrative is made up of two elements a chronicle of critical event in a person’s life and the interpretation of those events. A person’s identity is shaped by the way they interpret the past. Conversion occurs whenever people alter the perspective by which they evaluate their past and look forward to the future.

The narrative emphasis take two main forms; (scripture as a whole has a narrative character) it is history related rather than historical facts in any narrow chronicling sense; and narratives are fundamental to the understanding of personal identity, because of the narrative quality. Christian discipleship is effected by the resolution of the collision between these two forms, when it gives rise to conversation.

Narratives should be used as the primary language of theology. Protestant doctrines like justification and sanctification fills in the lacking element in the neo-orthodox of revelations and provides the test case for narrative theology and analytical discussion. Neo-orthodox interpretations of revelation reflect the level of the church’s intellectual life, in crisis and identity, which Christians are experiencing at the more primordial level of their life experience.

The Promise of Narrative Theology examines two main themes, Christian identity and Christian revelation, from the standpoint of theology as a story. The modern crisis in Christian identity are centered around the following:
1. The uncertainty of the Bible and Theology and its role in the community
2. The silence of the scripture in the life of the church
3. The loss to both individuals and communities personal histories.

Events and personal histories of both communities and individuals become more meaningful when they are seen to be living stories with a purpose. Stroup, uses language and imagery such as “collision” to identify Christian discovery, disclosure and transformation through encounters with Christ, the Lord of the community.

Building on Niebuhr’s understanding of revelations as an encounter between external events and one’s internal experience, the author argues that a “revelation become an experienced reality at that juncture where the narrative identity of an individual collides with the narrative identity of the Christian community.” A revelation is something that is merely known, whereas true revelatory understanding requires going on to do something because we know it. Wittgenstein gives importance to the social context, in which language is learned and used, but he thinks of language as a tool and this neglects the historical values of symbols and concepts. Revelatory language involves a community tradition in which individuals find their story of personal confession.

Two important issues which are briefly raised but not fully or clearly treated are its implications for questions of historical literacy and theological truths/claims and the relationship between the Christian story and stories of other Faith, which my lack a narrative dimension. Narrative theology will continue because it is rooted in the fundamental symptoms of contemporary crisis.

There are good reasons to believe that the nostalgia upon which narrative theology feeds will grow. Yet they will progress and prosper when like their political counterparts on the edge and margin of modernity—they confront more fully the realities of postmodern culture, consumer society.

The crucial theological issue of the day is weather the church can rediscover how to live out their tradition in light of reinterpreting that tradition for use in a contemporary world. This reinterpretation can offer a clear description of Christian faith, and it’s relevance to the urgent questions, and issues of a modern society.

The absence of theological reflections at all levels of church life makes it hard for many Christians to make sense of their personal identity by means of Christian Faith. Although many characteristics of postmodern industrial societies may appear to resemble semilar phenomena in the past, these characteristics, such as biblical literacy, historical amnesia, ecclesiastical obsession with public image and the congestion of narrative in the marketplace of identity–formation, have different roots roles and functions than their predecessors.

Black Theology Paper

Black Theology's Call for Economic Justice how do economics and the search for a new just economic order fit in with the goals of black theology? Does black
theology focus solely on exposing and eliminating racism or does it also speak out against economic injustice? If one examines the history of blacks in America, the setting from which black theology emerged, the terminology that it uses, and the later writings of James Cone and Cornel West, then it becomes clear that inherent in black theology is a call for a new economic system that would reduce the harmful effects of capitalism.

Background

Black theology is a popular theology, designed not for an intellectual ruling elite but instead for tens of millions of working class blacks in the United States. It emerges from their experiences of hundreds of years of white racism and economic exploitation, two forms of discrimination that are inseparable
and which still exist in our time.

Slavery

When discussing black experience in the United States one
must first remember that for over a hundred years slavery has
dehumanized blacks and it has shaped the racial and economic
relations that exist today. Slavery determined that black and
whites would be socially divided from the time of the founding of
the United States. It did not exist solely due to white racism
and a 'need' to be superior then blacks. Instead slavery existed
to get blacks to work at bare subsistence levels so that white
plantation owners could earn large profits. This guiding force
behind slavery, a doctrine of minimizing wages and maximizing
exploitation, was capitalism.

After Slavery

Slavery was theoretically abolished by President Lincoln
during the Civil War, but a new kind of slavery replaced it.
Freed slaves found themselves suddenly in a capitalist economy
"full of opportunity", but they were without capital. Many
former slaves returned to work the fields as sharecroppers and
got raw deals in the face of whites who owned all of the land
while they themselves had none. After Emancipation blacks
continued to face discrimination as they were segregated into
jobs that were more dangerous and paid less than those reserved
for whites. Blacks currently serve a role as an army of
unemployed that can be used by bosses to threaten unions to keep
wages low or lose their jobs. Current discrimination is evident
in the fact that blacks are fired in disproportionate numbers
during an economic recession and always face greater rates of
unemployment than whites.

James Foreman

Blacks rebelled against racism and their imposed poverty
during the Civil Rights movements, with the radicals rallying
around the slogan: Black Power! Black theology allied itself
with this Black Power movement that was clearly calling for a new
economic order. James Foreman, in his "Black Manifesto", a call
for economic justice and for a beginning of reparations that was
read at the Riverside church in NYC in 1969, saw clearly that
liberation would not work within a capitalist system:
Any black man or Negro who is advocating a perpetuation of
capitalism inside the United States is in fact seeking not
only his ultimate destruction and death but is contributing
to the continuous exploitation of black people all around
the world. (Foreman 27)
He realized that there was a strong linkage between racism and
capitalism, two forms of oppression that were both part of the
same package that the black power and black theology movements
were opposing. Unlike others who were more concerned with
opposing the current system then creating a new vision, he
explicitly called for a new socialist economic system as a
crucial goal for the liberation of blacks:
"Our fight is against racism, capitalism, and imperialism,
and we are dedicated to building a socialist society inside
the United Sates where the total means of production and
distribution are in the hands of the State, and that must be
led by black people, by revolutionary blacks who are
concerned about the total humanity of this world." (Foreman
29)

Terminology

Black theology emerged from the civil rights movement of the 1960's and therefore it shared the general goals of protesters of that era. It latched on to the radical end of the civil rights movement, favoured Malcolm over Martin, and used terms like "liberation", "Black Power", and even "revolution". So while
Black Theology did not explicitly call for economic change, the terms it used clearly proved what side it was on.

How could a movement favour liberation and agree that economic inequalities should be allowed to continue? Those two beliefs are clearly incompatible! Especially when given the fact that blacks were themselves the primary victims of the inequality. Does not liberation carry with it a clear message of economic liberation in addition to the stated goal of racial liberation?

How could black theologians talk about revolution and agree to maintain the primary system of control, that of capitalism? Revolution would clearly be associated with new left ideology and of past revolutions in countries like Cuba, China, and Russia. The call for revolution was synonymous with advocating socialism.

Cornel West

Starting in the late Seventies, writers like Cornel West and James Cone began to integrate the Marxist critique of capitalism into black theology. In his essay, "Black Theology and Marxist thought" Cornel West calls out for the need for the two to come together and to focus on critiquing their common enemy. First he
questions the use of the term "liberation". Do blacks only seek to imitate middle class whites and permit vast economic inequalities to continue to exist (West 413, vol. 1)? Or does black theology have something to say about the dual economic exploiting doctrines of capitalism and imperialism? (West 413,
vol. 1) He argues that black theology has in the past oncentrated more on opposing the current dominant paradigm than on proposing an alternative, and for that reason it has neglected economic justice (West 413, vol. 1). West argues that class is actually the dominant cause of alienation and this can be seen by
the fact that working class whites are also affected (West 416, vol. 1). Finally he sees that the same forces are aligned behind capitalism and racism against the liberation of blacks (West 414, vol. 1). It is all one fight.

Cornel West in a second essay, "Black Theology of Liberation: a Critique of Capitalist Civilization," calls for a shift in black theology to one that recognizes the validity of the Marxist critique of capitalism and the need for a new socialist order. He recognizes Christianity's prophetic tradition of speaking out against oppression (West 411, vol. 2) and notes Christianity's focus on self fulfilment, a concept that s incompatible with any form of discrimination (West 420, vol.
2). West is not an utopian and recognizes that sin and imperfection will exist, but believes that a revolution, likely an armed struggle, will lead to the establishment of a socialist ociety that he hopes will combine the best of the Marxist and
Christian traditions (West 421-422, vol. 2)

James Cone

According to Cone, Marxism had been neglected because it has been associated with racist whites (Cone 273), viewed as a fringe ideology, associated with Russia in a time of anticommunism, viewed as atheist and a direct threat to Christianity, and seen as overly sectarian (Cone 176-178). In face of these negatives, Cone's interest in Marxism was renewed through contact with Latin
American theology (Cone 177). From there he began to recognize the validity of the Marxist critique, agreeing that Christianity had been used as an opium of the masses (Cone 181). Furthermore he affirms that black liberation theology is in clear support of the poor: "All proponents of liberation theology contend that the
masses are not poor by accident. They are made and kept poor by the rich and powerful few." (Cone 393) Finally Cone directly affirms black theology and being compatible with Marxist political values: "No one can be a follower of Jesus Christ without a political commitment that expresses one's solidarity
with victims." (Cone 187)

Conclusion

In the beginnings of black theology, while it was just emerging the first and most evident source of oppression of blacks was white racism. So racism became its primary target, while black theology's support for socialism remained under the
surface. However as black theology developed, writers like Cone and West recognized the value of a Marxist critique of the capitalist system, and integrated that into black theology and now call for a total liberation of black people from both racism, capitalism, and imperialism.



Works Cited

Cone, James H. "Black Theology and the Black Church: where do we
go from here?" Black Theology: a Documentary History
volume I 1966-1979. Eds. James H. Cone & Gayraud S.
Wiltmore. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1980. 266-275.

Cone, James H. "Black Theology and Third World Theologies."
Black Theology: a Documentary History volume II 1980-1992.
Eds. James H. Cone & Gayraud S. Wiltmore. Maryknoll: Orbis
Books, 1993. 388-398.

Cone, James H. For My People: Black Theology and the Black
Church. Maryknoll : Orbis Books, 1984.

Foreman, James. "The Black Manifesto." Black Theology: a
Documentary History volume I 1966-1979. Eds. James H. Cone
& Gayraud S. Wiltmore. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1980.
27-36.

West, Cornel. "Black Theology and Marxist Thought." Black
Theology: a Documentary History volume I 1966-1979. Eds.
James H. Cone & Gayraud S. Wiltmore. Maryknoll: Orbis
Books, 1980. 409-424.

West, Cornel. "Black Theology of Liberation: a Critique of
Capitalist Civilization." Black Theology: a Documentary
History volume II 1980-1992. Eds. James H. Cone & Gayraud
S. Wiltmore. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 1993. 410-425.

Key principle of liberation theology

Though it has distant historical roots in 16th century Christian humanism, and more immediately in Vatican II, properly speaking liberation theology stems from the 1968 assembly of the Latin American bishops in Medellín, Colombia. That session
endorsed a “preferential option for the poor” on behalf of the Catholic church in
Latin America. The movement took its name from Gustavo Gutiérrez’s 1971 book,
A Theology of Liberation.

Today it is common to speak of a variety of “liberation theologies.” In his 1995
book Liberation Theologies, Jesuit Fr. Alfred Hennelly distinguishes nine: Latin
American, North American feminist, black, Hispanic, African, Asian, First World,
ecotheology and even a liberation theology of world religions. The focus in this
article is on the Latin American form that emerged in the 1970s and 1980s.

Four ideas have been central to the movement:

The preferential option for the poor. For the liberation theologians, this
means that the church must align itself with poor people as they demand
justice. Such insistence has led to charges that liberation theology advocates
class struggle. The liberationists, however, say that they did not invent the
division of society into a wealthy elite and an impoverished majority. The
church helped create this social order: Catholic missionaries served as
evangelizers for the European conquerors, and church leaders sided with the
elites for 400 years. The point, say the liberationists, is not to involve the
church in class struggle, which is a given of the Latin American situation.
Their goal is to shift the church’s loyalties.
Institutional violence. Liberationists see a hidden violence in social
arrangements that create hunger and poverty. Thus when critics accused
theologians of advocating revolutionary violence (which most did not), they
often responded: “But the church has always tolerated violence.” They
meant that by endorsing the status quo, church leaders were acquiescing in a
system that did violence to millions of people.
Structural sin. Liberation theologians argued that there is a social dimension
that is more than the sum of individual acts. Examples frequently cited
include neocolonialism and the feudal nature of the relationship between the
Latin American oligarchy and the peasants. By extension, the redemption
from sin won by Christ must be more than the redemption of individual souls.
It must redeem, transform the social realities of human life.
Orthopraxis. This term was coined by the liberation theologians as a
counterpoint to insistence on orthodoxy, meaning correct belief. Liberation
theologians argue that what is most fundamental is correct action -- that is,
effort leading to human liberation. Most liberation theologians say the accent
on orthopraxis is a matter of balance. They wanted to remedy a
centuries-long Christian inclination to overemphasize belief at the expense of
action.

Liberation theology places a premium on social analysis. To remedy injustice, they
believe, one must first understand the social mechanisms that produce it. To do this,
many liberation theologians were drawn to Marxism. Critics found this alarming,
insisting that one cannot distinguish between Marxist “science” and its ideological
underpinnings -- atheism, materialism and totalitarianism.

Finally, liberationists stress the pastoral dimensions of their work. In Latin America,
liberation theology came to be identified with the base communities, tens of
thousands of small groups of Christians, usually 10-30 people, who come together
for scripture study and reflection leading to action.

The base communities were at the roots of much of the Vatican alarm about
liberation theology. Since they existed independent of clerical oversight, they
seemed to represent a model of “church from below”; and indeed they were
sometimes presented this way by some of their more enthusiastic advocates.
Mainstream liberation theologians have repeated, however, that there is nothing
necessarily adversarial about the base communities.

Summary analysis of the proceedings
of the ME99 academic workshop held in Cape Town.



Introduction
Section I: Narrative framework

Theme 1: Religious discourse and
public discourse

Theme 2: Religious plurality and
identity in civil society

Theme 3: Citizenship of
marginal/subjugated voices

Themes 4 & 5: Law, constitution, and
religious
organisations/choosing a human rights
language

Theme 6: Interpreting corporate
language and practice

Themes 7 & 8: Religion, gender and
public discourse/ Black theology as
public discourse

Theme 9: Reconstructing a civic moral
fibre
Section II: Clarifying key
concepts

Creating a conceptual language

The key concepts: religion, public
and discourse
Secondary concepts and qualitative
terms
Symbolic-normative language

Problematising and deepening the
language

Religion
Religious language and religious
institutions
Public and publics
Discourse and identity
Discourse and marginality
Public discourse, values and
symbolic language
Race, class and gender
Conclusion


Key Concepts & Framing Questions

Introduction

The Multi-Event 1999 (ME99) was planned to include a wide range of people—including politicians,
religious leaders, academics, local community group representatives and cultural workers. Chances are
that understandings of religion and its role and place in the public realms of society would differ widely
within such a group. This document has been created to hopefully minimise confusion, to limit debates
at cross-purposes with one another and to assist the interpretative activity in which all must engage in
order to arrive at generally intelligible results whilst offering possibilities for new synergies, initiatives and
connections. It attempts to lay out key concepts and framing questions which offer a common foundation
for the debates and discussions which will take place around concrete issues at the February
conference.1

The document arises out of a gathering of some fifty-five academics held in Cape Town in
September/October 1998, with a view to sharpening our focus in looking at our own context, with
comparative input from some international partners. The workshop dwelt on a number of themes in
succession, providing different angles on the question of religion in public life. Brief concept papers had
been commissioned for each theme and were provided to participants.2 These papers were briefly
introduced by convenors. After a plenary debate, the issues were pursued further in smaller groups. All
discussions were carefully tracked and extensive summaries developed.

These two sources of material (concept papers and discussions) has been collated in this document,
which takes the form of a summary analysis of the central points that emerged. The material has been
cut down to a minimum in order to provide a document which may be quickly appraised and readily
referenced in debate.

What follows is organised in two ways. First, a "narrative framework" sets out the eight themes dealt
with in the workshop, more or less as discussion took place. It is therefore largely schematic, raising a
range of questions and views. Speakers or writers are not identified as such. This narrative framework
functions in the first place to orient the reader to the intellectual "story" of the workshop. Second, a
section on "clarifying key concepts" identified in the workshop is provided. In some ways, it is a rerun of
the narrative framework; except it moves a step further in pursuing a more analytical investigation of the
themes and issues that were dealt with. It is therefore not organised around the nine themes but rather
cuts across them to probe links, contradictions, ambiguities and ideas contested in the workshop.

Together, these two sections offer a basis for further discussion, particularly in relation to the ethical and
practical issues which were to be the prime focus of ME99. The aim of the document was to orient
people to the languages that are being used to discuss the issues, the way these languages work, and
the ambiguities and openness in them. It also aimed to give international guests some insight into how
many South Africans think about their current context in respect of religion in public life. As an historical
record, we believe the document will also be of interest to others seeking to relate religion and public life.
For this reason, we are making it available to a wider audience.



Section I: Narrative framework

Theme 1: Religious discourse and public discourse

A major challenge of this discussion was to seek clarity on how language is used, including the variety
of meanings which underlie key concepts, when religious discourse becomes public discourse.

What do we mean by the term "religious"? Specific faith communities? faith traditions? a set of core
values? Often we assume that a particular nuance in our use of the term is clear to all others. The
concept "religion" is fluid and contested, and notoriously difficult to constrain within any one meaning. Is
it possible to work with a plurality of understandings, a plurality of "religions"?

Further, what is meant by "religious discourse"? Is this a separate type of discourse, which then requires
"translation" when spoken in public? Is it essentially subversive talk, "giving voice" to those who are
marginalised or silent? Does it necessarily require one to be fluent or conversant in other discourses, to
develop the ability to be bilingual?

Or is religious discourse already public discourse, drawing on values which are meant for the common
good of society as a whole? If so, then this suggests a need to negotiate common goals, a common
vision and common language to articulate those goals and visions. In South Africa, where the need for a
common centre and a harmonious vision in a deeply plural society is undermined by massive inequality
and significant asymmetries of power, this task has become both a challenge and a serious problem.

Does religious discourse have to be explicitly "faith language", or can visions and symbols be expressed
in non-religious language? Is there a place for an explicitly religious language in a public sphere? If so,
how can this language be articulated in a way that embraces pluralism? Who participates in religious
discourse in the public sphere? Is religious discourse an essentially elitist discourse (articulated by
religious leaders)? or is it formed on the ground? And finally, in what ways is religious discourse a type
of praxis (as, for example, the preaching of Desmond Tutu or Martin Luther King)? How does such
religious discourse embody and nurture the values and attitudes relevant to the public sphere?

We may further also ask what is meant by the term "public". Does it refer to a particular space which
requires rules of entry and a specific (secular?) language? or are there many and contested "publics"? If
so, how do they relate and what are the dynamics of power at play? How do religious people relate to
public space? Do they constitute a separate public?

If "public" is seen as a separate space, then there is a need to equip "boundary" people who can move
between them. If however "religion" and "public" are seen as overlapping, potentially sharing common
goals, common symbols and even a common language, what new metaphors may express this
commonality? In this context, is it useful to speak of "civil society" and "civil religion"? Are they helpful in
articulating certain goals and visions for society—particularly plurality, acceptance and diversity?

Concrete, limited ways in which "religion" interacts with "public" include specific joint ventures between
religious groups, political organisations and/or NGO’s who agree to collaborate on particular projects.
Those who have worked on such ventures are able to speak of the lessons which they have learnt along
the way. They suggest joint ventures require

a specific, attainable goal or goals (communicated in language understandable to all groups)
a language for articulating these goals which is both visionary and accountable
a language which is able to stretch beyond "what is" (the actual) to new, imaginative possibilities
a language which also provides a framework of accountability for the actual, concrete ways in
which movement towards that goal is achieved –a "horizon language"
positive trust in the other, built through relationship
an internal understanding of the strengths which each group brings to the endeavour
leaders who are capable of being open to working within and between different contexts
("religious" and "secular").

Theme 2: Religious plurality and identity in civil society

The concepts "identity" and "plurality" are inter-dependent whilst inherently in tension—a tension that
can become either creative or destructive.

The present South African context requires new ways and models for naming sameness and difference
without succumbing to the tyrannies resulting from an overemphasis on one or the other—as, for
example, in apartheid or colonialism. How is particularity to be affirmed within an understanding that
engagement with others is essential? Equally, does "unity" language simply mask differences? Does
talk of our "Rainbow Nation" create a dynamic challenge towards pluralism? or does it allow "business
as usual" for those in power? The same question can be asked of the term "non-racialism".

In the task of naming sameness and difference, "chromatic language" will more and more be seen as
problematic. Chromatic language recognises no nuances in identities and speaks, for example, of
"black" and "white" as if the meaning of these terms are undisputed. This point is developed further in the
next section.

There are important power dynamics which need to be named within the process of dialogue. Language
and identity are integral to one another, yet not all groups are allocated the same power in the contested
realm of identity. Is "dialogue" possible between those of unequal power—and when some have not been
able to claim and articulate their own identity? How is identity formed without dialogue and difference?
What are the aspects of our particularities (contexts, histories, religious traditions) which enable and
prevent a truly "pluralistic conversation", where a particular identity may be affirmed without being
absolutised. How does religious language reflect this goal? How do we use religious language and
symbols to provide spaces for becoming?

Identity and plurality meet in the context of actual communities, through our primary communities—such
as family, church, mosque and temple. How do we embody openness and plurality within our
communities of identity? How is this plurality embodied in the present understanding of nationhood within
South Africa?

A crucial question in this respect: Is religious language able to assist in the movement towards positive
plurality? or is it mainly an obstacle? A particular challenge for religious language is to move from the
idea of possessing the truth and of speaking in absolutes, to naming and opening up possibilities. All
religious language comes from experience. But experience, though real for each person, remains partial,
concealing as much as it reveals.

Religious language must articulate what is possible in reality as well as what is actual and, whilst doing
so, recognise that there are many possibilities which may be realised. One particular faith tradition may
not lay sole claim to the area of possibility without introducing a new kind of tyranny. If this is so, how
are religious communities to articulate possibilities in the knowledge that truth is contested and the task
of actualising their ultimate (spiritual) goals never ended?

Theme 3: Citizenship of marginal/subjugated voices

Because it never takes place on a level playing field, the possibility of discourse deconstructs the
concept of citizenship. "Citizenship" operates as a "deceitful" concept when we assume that, when one
achieves citizenship, one is naturally invited into "public space". Such an assumption is false when
public space operates on the basis of privilege—the privilege of power defined to exclude the other.
Alternatively, citizenship may be understood as contested by the particular discourses of the silent and
marginalised. Here citizenship is understood, in post-structuralist terms, as being "partially constituted"
by discourse, or rather by many contested discourses.

The current situation in South Africa raises epistemological questions in this regard. In a post-modern
context, as opposed to a liberation context, the discourse of the poor and marginalised is understood as
merely another discourse, rather than a morally or epistemologically better one. This is an area of
practical debate. What are the issues of power involved in this difference? How does the idea of being
"partially constituted" by the discourses of the poor and marginalised offer an alternative understanding of
discourse and identity? Is this a fruitful way of thinking for unlocking the positive and creative aspects of
"difference"?

Within the current South African context, what is the nature of the relationship between religious identity
and citizenship? The two can often be in tension, with one claiming exclusive allegiance. How do
plurality and the idea of being partially constituted provide ways of working with current identity crises?

Is the concept of "marginalisation" synonymous with that of "subjugation"? Or is it possible to choose to
be marginal as a strategy? By remaining "on the margins" how does one challenge the concept of power
as located at the centre? Or is being on the margins simply acquiescing to the notion that power is at
the centre? In speaking of marginality, do the adjectives "precarious" and "advantageous" help to unpack
the issues of power at play? How would one develop an ecclesiology, for example, on the basis of an
understanding of "advantageous marginality"?

If some discourse is also marginalised through its subjugation, how do we understand or have access to
it, to what may be termed "silence", "absence", "hidden transcripts" and so forth? Should religious
communities necessarily acknowledge marginalised discourse, or provide spaces for marginalised voices
to be articulated? How else are they to be recovered? Does this not imply that centres of power need to
be destabilised, and in fact, would they (or would this be a naïve vision)? Recovering the voices of those
who are marginal in both public and religious discourse may first require identifying the silences.

Finally, identity is in part shaped by constructions of "the past", including the collective memories of a
particular society. However, the past in South Africa is both divided and dividing, and not all memories
are recorded. Besides the effects of oppression, how do we record the memories of those who operate
orally?

Themes 4 & 5: Law, constitution, and religious organisations/choosing a human rights
language

The term "religion" can be unpacked in both cultural and structural ways. Culturally, we may speak of
the way religion functions in creating core values for particular religious communities within society. One
test of the formation and articulation of these values for South Africans asks how well they serve to
promote plurality and deconstruct power.

Structurally, we may speak of differing modes by which religions organise themselves. For example, one
typology would see religions organised primarily (though not exclusively nor without overlap) as
"communities", as "institutions" or as "associations". In simple terms, the communal mode emphasises
group norms, the institutional mode emphasises institutional authority, and the associational mode
emphasises the individual. Each mode—and this is the relevant point—marks a different understanding
of the nature of the relationship between religious organisations and a democratic, pluralistic state. The
challenge of interacting with a pluralist democracy raises particular challenges to each model. The
challenge for all of them is how to engage in a genuine "civility of discourse" without surrendering
particularity.

Analogously, language functions differently in multiple and different communities, the pertinent example
here being the "language of human rights". It means something different to those living in an
economically deprived area compared to those who are economically secure. It has a different weight in
the cultural context of Africa, with its strong communal anthropological norms, than it has in the
Cartesian, individualist environment of the "Enlightened" West. Not surprisingly, human rights language
is a contested arena.

The example of human rights language, usually deeply shaped by religious notions, suggests that the
moral context of our language (what values form our language) is significant. So, too, is our ability to
communicate across contextual boundaries (raising again the question of discursive "bi-" or
"multi-lingualism", and the issue of how we find or construct a new common language).

The language of human rights draws us back again to the question of whether and how religious
organisations articulate the language of the experience of marginalised people, as opposed to those
whose experiences reflect the norms of the "centre". Going further: is the focus on language as such
short-sighted? What is its material base and what are its material effects? And what has this to do with
human spirituality, undoubtedly a central issue in most, if not all, religions?

Finally, what are the challenges that face religious communities after the inauguration of the
Constitution? It is an incongruous fact (or is it?) that, contrasting with the Constitution, many religious
communities are taking up reactionary positions towards human rights—for example, over the issues of
abortion and sexual orientation. Do religious communities embody a "culture of human rights"? Can
they? Should they?

In highly contested areas concerning the progressive values that the new South African Constitution
enshrines, are there common symbols (such as "human dignity" and "worth") which might be made
meaningful to diverse communities, and which simultaneously allow religious communities to find ways
of bringing accountability into the legal and political realms?

In the current context, the relationship between the democratic state (political, legal, etc. institutions)
and religious organisations is somewhat fluid and ambiguous. The majority of people in South Africa are
"religious" while African world-views, unlike strong elements in Western world-views, do not encourage
the dichotomising of life into dyads such as sacred and secular. If this is so, what do we envisage by the
separation of "state" and "religion" (a constitutional principle)? How much separation? What are the
appropriate and inappropriate ways in which religion functions in relation to Constitutional democratic
institutions and practices?

Theme 6: Interpreting corporate language and practice

Within the corporate world, language is primarily adversarial, the language of "win or lose". It also has a
two-fold link to religious schemas: First through its own pseudo-religious character (the market being the
first truly global "religion"); and second, in the way that it co-opts standard religious language—as for
example when "value", "equity" and "transformation" become keywords. There is a paradox, however, in
that the corporate world resists any religious presence other than in privatised garb. A separation
between these "two worlds" has consequences both for those who work within the corporate world and
for those who are affected by it.

For those who function primarily within the corporate sector, an enforced schizophrenia prevails. Ethics
and values formed within a religious context (such as "compassion" and "justice") receive little prime
space or affirmation in a corporate setting. A more holistic approach is often spoken about in the current
business world, such as "giving business a soul". This may however be nothing more than a fad. The
value of this language is still measured in terms of profits: one "wins", for example, through co-operation
rather than competition.

For the rest of the world affected by the politics of economy, the power of the market operates as a law
on its own, and there is no apparent accountability nor any seeming connection with the value of human
life and dignity—especially the lives of those within the poorer "southern" countries. The move towards a
"virtual market place", where the primary commodity is money, means that any connection the money
world has with actual communities becomes even more tenuous, making the establishment of
accountability on the basis of human worth more difficult.

The danger of a shared (religious) language lies with the potential of the corporate world to co-opt
symbols and empty them of their religious or spiritual meaning. For example, the concept of "ubuntu"
now graces almost anything that might sell better in association with it. There is also the danger of
losing a certain degree of critical distance. At the same time, although there may be a certain similarity
of language on occasion, this does not guarantee any shared understanding of the language. On the
other hand, the chasm between standard religious and corporate discourses leads to the dismissal of
any serious religious discourse in the corporate world, usually on the basis of it being judged "naïve" or
"idealistic". How then is religious discourse to be "translated" into corporate discourse in a way which is
powerful and meaningful?

Some clear challenges emerge. Religious traditions valuing the worth and sacredness of human life offer
a voice of accountability to corporate practices. How do religious organisations inject ethics of
accountability into the corporate world? Religious pluralism offers a challenge to the hegemonic power of
corporate globalisation. What is the possible role religion can play in destabilising and contesting
economic systems which are life-draining?

Themes 7 & 8: Religion, gender and public discourse/ Black theology as public discourse

As specific voices within the context of "religious and public discourse", black and feminist/womanist
discourses offer particular vistas of critique for the broader relationship of what is religious and public
discourse. Both challenge the hegemonic construction of "religion" and "public" from positions that are
marginalised either by racial or gender subjugation.

Here the term "public discourse" is seen within a particularly ironic light. The word "public" is implicitly
inclusive. Yet in reality the power dynamics at play within its centres necessitate the exclusion of both
women and people of colour. Paradoxically, both black and womanist/feminist discourses are continually
involved in the public sphere, for both are involved in economic, political and cultural issues by the
necessity of context, though often through resistance.

As resistance discourses within the context of religious discourse, black and feminist/womanist
discourses evoke questions about how various traditions, or narratives, constitute "public discourse". In
particular, they draw attention to narratives which are located on the periphery, implicitly critiquing the
assumption that appropriate discourse is only constituted by hegemonic and essentialist definitions of
what is public. They constitute discourses of "counter-" and "sub-publics".

In resistance, these discourses propose that the notion of public needs to be re-imagined to include the
narratives, or memories, of those who have suffered—those who have been marginalised and ignored.
The inclusion of these narratives does not mean that they simply become other narratives amongst
many. The recovery and articulation of narratives on the periphery constitutes a different genre of
discourse—what may be called the liberative "poetics of testimony". Challenging centres of power
defined by elitism and exclusion, these discourses also envision ones which are embodied, plural and
ethically responsive to those who suffer. Including these narratives into the corporate notion of what
constitutes "the public", invites both diversity and an ethic of compassion. They remain vital, simply
because the challenges of both racism and patriarchy remain, however much other aspects of South
African life are changing.

However, as resistance discourses, black and feminist/womanist approaches also raise the issue of
whether being part of a public discourse at the centre is in fact the optimum place to be. Power and
space are problematised. To be "at the centre" as defined by some notions of occupying public space
often involves giving up other spaces. Being marginal may constitute the very nature of particular
discourses, perhaps particularly religious discourses. We return thus to an earlier theme.

In re-defining the nature of "public space" by intentionally constituting it through normally "absent"
discourses, our understanding of power located at the centre also necessarily changes. What is
projected as a goal in this process is a public space which is polyglot, requiring honesty, an openness
to diversity, an ethic of listening and compassion for the other.

Religions are internally challenged in their fundamentals by black and feminist/womanist discourses and
other "marginalised" discourses. Feminist discourses, for example, challenge the historical construction
of "gender" as the symbol for human difference. Feminist theory names a set of social constructions
which has led, from the axial age (the period when most great religions of the world arose) onward, to the
dominance of males and the oppression of women within religion and society. Within Black theology, the
concept of "ontological blackness" (blackness as a material, social and structural condition) presents a
"contrast experience" to dominant hegemonic discourse. This is not a question of pigmentation but
rather of a marginal, subjugated condition. The challenge within this concept is one of recognising and
naming a global condition of the systemic use of power operating within the public sphere on the basis of
racial superiority against those deemed to be inferior. That ideology remains strong, and it suggests that
Black theology remains a critical discourse within the public sphere.

The radical challenge remains one of reconstituting public space through marginalised narratives. This
raises difficult questions, especially in terms of the way religious communities are structured and led.
How do those who have been silenced enter into the public narrative? Who provides the "space" for these
voices? How is the notion of power that is constituted at the centre to be challenged? Put differently, how
is the centre to be interrupted? In what way are religious organisations cultivating the "poetics of
testimony"? What part does religious language, symbols, worship, liturgy or preaching play in cultivating
compassion, truth-telling, diversity, or ethical and moral responses to those who suffer? In short, how are
religious organisations and traditions re-imaging the notion of public space as a "space of solidarity in
difference"?

Theme 9: Reconstructing a civic moral fibre

Of the many challenges facing a democratic South Africa, two were identified here: division and moral
disintegration. A widespread consensus exists on the deep-seated moral failure within our society
(including corruption and crime). Equally, the effects of the deeply-entrenched divisions of the past
remain with us.

These challenges highlight the way(s) in which religious institutions and traditions are engaged, or not,
within the public sphere. The context is not as clear as before in terms of a direct "enemy" when
apartheid produced a history of challenging unjust government. What lessons were learnt? What
strengths and weaknesses identified? Are religious groups thinking strategically now? The current
context is far more "post-modern" in the sense of being more ambiguous and overtly plural. How are
religious organisations responding to these new challenges?

Does the link between moral fibre and national identity suggest certain possible strategies for action?
Concerns about a national moral fibre raises possibilities for the deployment of common symbols ( such
as "ubuntu") in order to clarify and articulate what the common goals and visions for society may be. The
Constitution itself proposes a common basis for both public and religious action, with its grounding in
concepts of human dignity and worth. What, then, does it mean when many religious organisations
actively oppose areas of the Constitution—such as abortion rights, sexual orientation rights and the
outlawing of the death penalty—on the basis of particular faith interpretations? What is the price that
religious groups pay by having a narrowly defined public agenda? These are critical questions involving
the perceived role and agenda that religious organisations are assuming.

The manner in which religious organisations participate in creating the good of society also needs critical
and careful thought. Absolutes are unhelpful and "give and take" essential—whatever the agenda. Do
religious organisations need to begin to think differently, thinking not in terms of absolute principles, but
rather in terms of specific, concrete programmes and dynamic systems of accountability?

Analysis of the issues and challenges may be aided by identifying "hard" and "soft" issues. Hard issues
centre around the challenges posed by a society in transition to democracy (with the negative forces
from apartheid still a present reality). Soft issues cluster around the nature of liberal democracy—issues
such as individualism and capitalism. Is this the kind of democracy we want? What are the alternatives,
the checks and balances? What are the links between moral formation and the type of democratic
society we hope to build? Are greed and corruption to be endorsed because liberal democracy sanctifies
the individual’s rights above those of the common good?

In strategising roles focused around moral formation for religious groups, challenges arise to think more
broadly about the concept of "moral formation". A broad understanding is needed, meaning not simply
the identification of various religiously based moral issues—which may lead to a narrow, exclusivist
focus. Neither can it merely be a matter of proclamation. What are the links, for example, between
aesthetics and moral formation? The role of the arts in shaping moral insight and perception, as well as
in enabling social transformation, must be given more attention. This includes the way in which aesthetic
formation takes place in the dramas and rituals of religious liturgies and rites.

Conclusion

Discussions at the workshop were highly nuanced. At some points, inevitably, hot issues led to
interchanges which were valuable in themselves, but secondary to the goal of generating conceptual
categories and interrogative frameworks for the Multi-Event proper. Such have not been included in this
account.

At this point, we proceed to a more analytical approach to the workshop materials and inputs. The rest
of the document is as much a creation of its writing team as it is of the workshop participants, though it
depends almost entirely on the content of the debates of the workshop.

Section II: Clarifying key concepts3

Introduction

A conceptual language is distinct from an "everyday" language in which concepts may be embedded,
but where they are tacit rather than focal. A concept is a logical "snapshot": It freezes human activity,
allowing us to stop and examine its structures and relationships. Concepts are therefore tools, and
malleable ones at that.4 They do not limit "truth" but have their value in parsing everyday experience, in
identifying its structures, in clarifying its dynamics, in making important distinctions. A "common
conceptual language" is not a language evacuated of particularity or interest, but rather one in which the
particularities of its users may find a "home" while yet being communicable to others.

If a concept is a logical snapshot, what follows here is the making of a photo album: beginning with
various snaps, followed by a general sorting and a more specific pasting-in. The point of this section is
limited to providing a résumé or taxonomy of concepts as they were employed during the workshop or
through concept papers, with nuances and clarifying terms. Its purpose, while recognising the limits
involved, is to generate "a more or less common language" for the February 1999 events.

Creating a conceptual language

The key concepts: religion, public and discourse

The three key concepts the conference dealt with are "religion", "public" and "discourse". In the
presentations and discussions, "religion" and "public" were often seen as two different "realms" which
had to be "connected" or otherwise related. Sometimes the implication was that there were "religious
people" and "secular people" (i.e. believers and non-believers);5 at other times the terms referred to
particular spheres of life6 (so that the same person can be seen as "religious" with reference to her
attendance at cultic services and "public" when she is, say, speaking in a court of law).7

The word "discourse", often meant in its everyday sense of "talk about something", was usually
employed with reference to "religious" or "public" (or sometimes "secular") languages. But occasionally
the term was used in a more specialised sense: a network of power relations, built on words, which
constitutes and disciplines the subjects and subjectivities to which it refers (and who refer to it).8 When
the term "religious discourse" was employed, there seemed to be an impulsion to either "translate" it
into "public discourse" (which would imply that religious discourse was used by religious people) or to
train "religious people" to be bilingual—that is, to speak a public language.

But these ideas of "translation" and of speaking in different tongues were used in different ways.
Sometimes they carried the meaning of a person with strong religious commitments working in a sphere
other than that of a religious community (as a lawyer, for instance). At other times it had to do with
working in common enterprises with those of different faith commitments, including inter-religious
dialogue, or with people who do not identify at all with any particular tradition. These are very different
kinds of issues, and a distinction between them must be drawn.

In other uses "religious discourse" meant the particular discourse of religious or faith communities or
their official representatives. So "the voice (or voices) of the churches (or church)" could be said to be
either "silent" or "prominent". What was specifically religious about this was the source (i.e. who was
doing the speaking, or in what name)—but not the quality or the content of the discourse (i.e. what was
actually being said). This kind of discourse (church statements against apartheid, for instance), does not
need to be translated. It is already "public".

At other times, religious discourse referred to a kind of language which could be spoken by faith
communities, their representatives or their members, but also by those not claiming any affiliation with a
faith community. This kind of language is heavily symbolic and mythic—and particular, bordering on the
idiosyncratic. It is usually opaque to those not sharing the same faith commitments, and it needs
translation—whether into a "public" language (which, as we shall see below, is problematic) or into
political, legal, ethical and other tongues. Its varieties need translation, so that those inhabiting different
symbolic universes can understand and find equivalents in their own particular traditions (such as a
"Muslim" speaking so that "liberal humanists", "Hindus" or "African traditionalists" can understand).

Secondary concepts and qualitative terms

A number of other concepts were employed with reference to each of the key concepts, as for example
when the word "identity" was used with reference to "religion", "public" (space) and "discourse". The
same could be said for words like "values", "moral formation" and "marginality". One could also speak of
relations between these secondary terms, for example, between "identity" and "marginality".

We may separate out a third set of modifying terms, such as "hybridity", "plurality", "particularity" and
"contestation". No less important, these words qualified the primary and secondary terms. Interestingly,
they recurred with reference to very different concepts: for example, identities were seen as contested
and plural (alongside other identities), but so was public space, and this was applied to both "religious"
and "secular" identities.

Symbolic-normative language

A fourth set of words, in some ways the most crucial, attempted to capture normative concerns
symbolically. These are words like "ubuntu", "health"9 and "healing",10 "covenant",11 and "human
dignity".12 Although rooted in particular "religious" or "secular" visions, they were offered to connect the
various concerns.

In the synopsis that follows we will focus on the primary terms, relating them first to each other, then to
the other terms.

Problematising, nuancing and deepening the language

All these words meant different things to different people (and sometimes the same people!) depending
on the context of the discussion and the way each was combined with other words. This meant that
people were frequently "talking past" each other. For example, in the selfsame discussion the term
"religion" might have been used to refer to official religious bodies like the Catholic Church,
"spirituality"13 and dogmatic language—without clarification or distinction.

When the term "public" was conflated with the term "secular", "religion" took on the meaning of the
(secular) public’s (sacred) "other". "Religion" at other times simply described a set of institutions (as
much "secular" in the sense of located in the "world" as banks and libraries). Or "religion" was used to
embrace a number of sectors, including the public—for example, civil religion (Everett) which is public
religion.14 Another example of this broader use of the term "religion" was a description of capitalism as
global religion.15

It is thus important to clarify the key concepts used at the workshop.

Religion

The conference set out to construct "a language of religion in public life". This task frequently took the
form of relating what were termed "religious" and "secular" languages—an essentially dualist strategy.
This manifested itself in a search for a "common grammar"—particularly with reference to law, human
rights and religious languages16—or a hermeneutic of translation or "bilingualism". Some even proposed
a hybrid discourse—something in-between "religious" and "public"—a "religiously based discourse that
would make sense to a politician".17

A strict distinction between the "religious language" and "secular language"18 is problematic as it
implies a firm boundary between sacred and secular that is not always held across traditions.19
Moreover, the notion of a "secular language" actually masks a plurality of languages, including
academic, legal, economic, political and ethical,20 each of which have their own irreducible character or
identity.21

All of these languages have important orienting dimensions (i.e. they are not empty of spirituality or
normative concerns) and they always imply a certain normative framework. Though usually not obvious,
every legal discourse, every economic system, contains within it a certain idea of how society ought to
be organised, of what constitutes authentic human activity, and so on. Such languages also furnish the
stock of images out of which religious language is drawn—and the reverse is also true. The forensic
language of the court, for example, is an important source for Christian understandings of "redemption",
while Christian understandings of redemption profoundly influence even a "quasi-juridical" institution like
the TRC.22

Rather than speak of "religious language" as opposed to "secular language" or "public language", some
wished to recognise a plurality of languages: "legal language", "academic language", "economic
language" and so forth. What this would mean for religion in public life is not clear, nor is it clear whether
"religious language" would appear alongside these others.

A second issue is the conflation of the terms "public" and "secular"—a conflation which masks many
different communities of many different kinds, each (implicitly or explicitly) propagating different visions
and commitments. Moreover, the use of the term "secular" often implies a certain understanding of the
proper role of religion in society drawn largely from a Tocquevillean model of the USA—i.e. that religious
institutions take their place alongside non-religious institutions as voluntary associations—while the term
itself is no longer sociologically clear when seen comparatively across different cultures and societies.

Religious language and religious institutions

Different languages find their homes in specific institutions, such as the law court (legal language), the
university (academic language) and the business office (corporate language). The language of faith finds
its home within faith communities, particularly in their cultic practices. This was not contested at the
conference. However, it was noted that faith language in particular is not the sole possession of faith
communities. Languages of faith are also spoken outside "traditional" faith communities. Indeed, faith is
a human activity before it is institutionalised in faith community structures.23 The term "spirituality"
carries the meaning of faith as a part of being human. The example of global capitalism is one instance
of faith language appearing outside a faith community.

On the other hand, the pronouncements of faith communities and their representatives may be couched
in political, economic, juridical and ethical languages. Not all statements issuing from faith communities
or their representatives constitutes faith language—either in the sense of proclamation or of testimony.
While the SACC under apartheid, for example, may have been motivated by faith convictions to make
pronouncements condemning state activities, the actual content of those pronouncements may have
been remarkably similar to that of "secular" movements.

A further point: the language of faith is not only a spoken language. It is performed, even "sung".24 It is
"testimony" language expressed in narrative, poetry, music and film.25 A concept of "the language of
faith" cannot therefore be restricted to the spoken word. Nor must it be restricted to the obvious, to the
"public transcript". Languages of faith are also spoken and performed in "hidden transcripts"—which
brings in the interface with "marginality".26

Throughout the workshop it was pointed out that the language of faith is a "limit" language, not a special
tongue alongside political, economic, juridical, etc. languages. It takes those languages and pushes
them, opening them up to possibilities "beyond" the everyday. This is what happens in proclamation, or
testimony.27 This contradicts to an extent the idea that faith language is spoken alongside the other
languages.

Just as the language emanating from faith communities need not necessarily be faith language, so the
public activities of faith communities need not necessarily be subsumed under the category of
"proclamation". For faith communities are also interest groups, contesting space, negotiating power and
so forth. The term "faith community" seems to indicate the representation of certain faith-convictions as
its dominant feature. Yet faith communities are also tightly woven, even knotted, with strands of race,
class, ethnic and other interests. Moreover, proclamation is also an activity of "secular" liberation
movements and political parties.28 Political and constitutional movements in South Africa are often far
ahead of faith communities in this regard, which paradoxically (against their prophetic traditions) appear
more conservative. Indeed, the Constitution is in many respects a "vision" document and in the minds of
some (especially conservative) faith communities, a rival.

Implied, though not explicated, in the conference was the idea that not all faith languages are equally
legitimate. Languages of faith can also be "idolatrous".29 If patriarchy is (along with capitalism) a global
religion, for example, it is one that closes down rather than opens up life. The language of apartheid was
a faith language that understood the divine as one who divided rather than "made whole". Such a
language, such a spirituality, legitimates oppression. Corporations also pay tribute to their economic
gods of "growth" and "progress". Inter-faith dialogue, on this view of faith language, can be seen as a
multi-lingual interaction not just between faith traditions but between different normative visions and
understandings of how society should be run. The question is, who is to judge and how?

Public and publics

Similar to the term "religion", the idea of the "public" implies a societal "structure", "realm" or "sphere" (a
space where religion also ought to present itself), or perhaps a dimension of life, as in "public" vs.
"private" life. What emerged in the conference was also the idea of public as "covering" (masking?) a
number of overlapping areas—or perhaps rather "public" as itself the area of unclarified overlaps.

The term "rationality" was sometimes placed alongside the term "public", meaning that the public sphere
should be governed by a process whereby those who enter it should be able to translate their visions and
values into intelligible and defensible validity claims.30

Further nuances became important in defining the "public" as itself constituted by "multiple languages"
or discourses. This "polyglot public discourse"31 may be thought of as the recognition of different
disciplinary languages (such as legal and economic), different genres (such as poetry and song), or the
articulation of different visions (such as Christian and Afro-humanist)—all of which are public. The tension
between "the public" as a homogeneous idea and "multiple publics" is supplemented by that between
the idea of "public discourse as one way of articulating many visions" versus "public discourse as many
genres, many visions". This tension appeared in other discussions as well (for instance, around the
terms "marginality" and "citizenship").

The two dominant metaphors of the relation between religion and public, we noted, were "bilingualism"
and "translation". There was also the idea of a hybrid, mediating language which would be
understandable both to those speaking as religious persons and those speaking as public persons. The
idea of the public as itself multiple problematises the ideas of both "bilingualism" and "translation",
however. If the public is already multiple, public language becomes shorthand for a number of
languages,32 a kind of "multilingualism".33 But perhaps "public discourse" simply refers to the everyday
discourse—a synonym for the lowest common denominator where particularities do not interfere.

Discourse and identity

Besides being a broad, inclusive term (embracing in principle every "citizen"), "public" can also refer to
"the centre", to the mainstream, to the realm of dominant powers. It is inhabited by "trained
speakers"—those with facility in speaking to each other. Here "public" stands not against "private", but
against those outside the mainstream—the disempowered. Public in this sense creates "non-public"
others. Some thus spoke of "counter-publics",34 and "little publics"—especially where public forums are
inadequate or exclusionary. We will return to this point.

Public space in the main seemed to be taken as "common space", a place where common identity is
shaped—the idea of what it means to be "South African" in finding common goals or a "national
identity."35 Paradoxically, it seems that one must have an identity in order to enter and negotiate public
space.36 Equally paradoxical, withdrawal from public space in favour of internal, identity-forming
practices (as, for instance, an independent church) can be an act of resistance in relation to a dominant
public space—especially where the "public" is a realm of alienation. In another direction, public space
may also place identities under threat through relativising them in reference to what is common. The
notion of "advantageous marginalisation" was used of the Muslim community in a largely Christianised
South Africa in this context.37 Public space is thus also space where identities are contested not simply
by "the common" but by other identities.

A major concern is that identities (such as ethnic, religious) be allowed to inhabit and contest public
space, and that they be protected against corruption or co-option.38 But many also spoke of identities
as hyphenated or hybrid, as "multiple-constituted".39 Even when the idea of a primary community as
forming one’s world view was put forth, it was opposed with the idea of multiple communities, influences,
particularities, and even selves which arise in the dynamic process of constituting identities and
cultures.40 This hybridity makes it conceptually impossible finally to separate "African" and "European"
identities in present-day South Africa. Each is profoundly implicated in the other. Yet there is a
necessary "rediscovery" of "one’s own culture" in a post-apartheid context.41 The term used to convey
the opposite of an acceptance of hybridity is "absolutism"— meaning the denial of hybridity, the
closing-off of the dynamic of identity formation, a kind of cultural fundamentalism.42

Perhaps we could speak of plurality as the contestation of one identity or identity-community with
others, and of hybridity as the contestation of identity within communities or even selves. Identities on
this view are layered and textured, with "faith" identities intertwined with and constituted by race, class,
ethnic, sexual, physical and other identities.43 We have not yet fully come to terms with the implication
of this for reconstituting "religion and public life".

The "politics of identity" was seen as the other side of the "politics of sameness." An example of the
latter is globalisation under capitalism: One may see this as a "global religion" which is not one
particularity among many (unlike mainstream religions) but a homogenising religion with reference not
only to the many religions, but also to constructions of "public". In other discussions, moving to another
point, inclusive concepts such as the idea of "embrace"44 were placed alongside concepts such as
"sameness" and "difference" which may be named in good or bad ways (apartheid being a bad way of
naming them).

Identities are "owned" over against other identities or a common identity. They may be marginalised by
the centre, or they may for strategic reasons represent a choice to inhabit the margins. In the latter
case, one may speak about: "advantageous marginality" (where a situation of marginalisation is
creatively used to amplify the voice of a group pressing for recognition) and "precarious marginality" (the
consequence of a dual allegiance, i.e. religious affiliation and national citizenship, which results in a
choice to stay on the margins but not as a result of subjugation).45 This latter idea was spoken of with
reference both to conservative Muslim and Christian groups who claim that their interests or convictions,
including their understanding of the way public life should be constructed, are not represented in the
Constitution.

Discourse and marginality

There is also the kind of marginality that is perhaps better spoken of as "subjugation". While none would
have disagreed, at least in principle, that public space ought to affirm different identities, the marginality
that comes with poverty, for example, is a different matter. The conceptual distinction may be seen if one
notes that one has a "right" to be "Muslim", say, but one does not have a "right" to be poor. The term
marginalisation was thus used of specific "categories" without regard to particular persons, such as
"women", "the poor", "foreign Africans",46 independent church groups,47 and nations.48 But it also
sometimes meant something along a dynamic, contextually determined continuum of power and
consciousness—as in "more or less marginalised" (as opposed to a boundary condition between "the
marginalised" and "the non-marginalised").49

This discussion turns us back to the concept "citizenship". While seen as an ideal (perhaps a synonym
for being "South African"), it was also held to be an ambiguous term, in its etymology even constituting a
marginalisation of rural people.50 West pointed out two possible understandings of citizenship: the first
with reference to the city and thus the centre of power. The second as a public identity "partially
constituted" by the discourses of every community, including the marginalised.51

The question of citizenship raises the question of discourse—no longer simply as language, but as the
power to make and remake reality (which also includes language, but perhaps at a different level). One
may ask, do the marginalised have a discourse?52 Do they help constitute "common" reality? This is
especially a problem if citizenship is used in the sense of "centre" or "centred" or "empowered".
Excluded from citizenship, they would in this sense be excluded from the public and from public
discourse. They are neither empowered, nor even constituted as subjects. There are two possible
theoretical moves at this point: the one is to locate power in hegemonic, dominant centres, and to
identify power relations as wholly asymmetrical.53 The other is to locate power in hidden agencies, in
non-public (or perhaps, "counter-public" and "counter-hegemonic") discourses, so that while still
asymmetrical, power is understood as more diffuse and available than otherwise, albeit in less overtly
recognisable forms.54

This points to the redefinition of citizenship with reference to the marginalised: "Citizenship" can be said
to have been extended to them [not simply when they can make their mark on a ballot paper but] when
they hear their own voices in the public realm. Questions remain about the practical efficacy of such a
view in dealing with hegemonic powers, but the insight is highly suggestive for understanding the
possibilities of religion in public life, especially where religion has been "privatised" or relegated to an
inferior, even useless, category of experience.

Public discourse, values and symbolic language

Two final concepts were repeatedly addressed: "national integrity" and "moral ambiguity". National
integrity (which could also refer to national unity or a "common place") is seen as endangered by moral
ambiguity, not in the sense of "different (incommensurable?) moralities" in the public sphere, but in the
sense of the positioning of that sphere and its institutions between "morality" and "immorality". It was
agreed that "religion" (whether in the sense of faith communities or of spiritualities) was "needed" to play
a role here.

Identity-dynamics also enter into the picture. There was a general sense that certain values (e.g.
ubuntu), though rooted in particular faith communities, might bridge the two realms of the religious and
the public, perhaps even be mobilised to address especially political and corporate life. But some felt
these words could be cheapened (particularly for the groups who "owned" them) when mixed with the
language of commerce.55

A counter point was that the meaning of symbols needs to be open to change and development,56
presumably through contact with other languages, discourses and contexts. When then is a concept
"corrupted" if at all, and by whom? A similar fear arose about "prophetic" religion, should faith
communities lose their distinctive voice over against the mainstream, a strong possibility if their way of
speaking was too closely identified with the public.

Race, class and gender

A final set of concepts shaping debate at various points, sometimes explicitly and sometimes implicitly,
were race, class and gender. They are intertwined in much of what has already been noted, and they all
have implications for constructing identity. It was also noted that the idea of a homogeneous public
discourse excludes the specifying discourses of race, gender and class.57

Notions having to do with race and racism included distinctions between "chromatic" ("black", "white")58
and geographic language ("African", "European"), with the two being problematised in relation to each
other. For example, does "black" convey the same as "African"? Can one speak meaningfully (some do)
of "white Africans"? Would it be more appropriate to develop a hybridised term, a hyphenated identity
which is non-chromatic, such as Euro-Africans (a tendency which is clearly strong in the US, for
example)? What is at stake in this generally, and for religion in particular? Black theology has already
gone beyond chromatic language in its links with, and at points even dependency upon, African
theology. It was asked whether the idea of Black theology in different contexts carries the same
nuances, as for instance in the US and South Africa, especially where the meaning of "blackness" is
contested.

In South Africa, the relation between "black" and "Christian" theology is also increasingly contested, with
at least one leading exponent of Black theology wanting to loosen the relation.59 The relationship of
black theology to African theology is also complex and in need of fuller explication. Black theology as a
publicly critical discourse, it was suggested, is in need of being tied anew to political analysis and
mobilisation is it is to develop. Others (from the Black theology tradition) felt that Black theology as it
has been known in South Africa was terminally ill and no longer adequately addressed the changed
context. Black theology, it was argued, is for the moment tied to the margins, and a question arose
about whether it can move into the centre. One response was that it was precisely in being tied to the
margins that Black theology functioned as a practical and theoretical critique of the centres of power and
of structural racism in the wider society. It is not "in crisis" as much as it "deals with crisis" out of crisis.

This remains a profoundly challenging issue, especially if one concedes, as virtually all delegates did,
that racism remains both a central issue and a practical reality.

The concept "class" was hardly dealt with overtly, an interesting matter given the strength of the ideas
through the 1970s and the 80s in South Africa. No discussion of class issues took place except in the
indirect sense of notions of subjugation and domination which shaped many debates. Perhaps the
problematic nature of class concepts in capturing the wide and diverse nuances which enter into
contemporary social analysis (at least of the kind that is not strictly Marxist) explains part of the strange
silence on class as such. Perhaps it is a signal of the way in which religion often fails to grasp the reality
of workers. Perhaps it is because discourse about class has been transformed into other terms in
various theoretical languages (such as "hegemony" and "ideology", "domination" and "subjugation"). In
any event, one factor is that various kinds of domination and subjugation are now part of the
emancipatory agenda, and not only that of workers by capital.

Thus it is that gender issues—specifically patriarchy and sexism—are seen to be as important a
touchstone of transformation as race or class. Gender is a metaphor for difference, and this difference
shapes the public sphere as much as any other. One matter raised in debate was a common implication
in the way the questions are discussed, that gender issues are women’s issues, signifying a conflation
of terms which need to be distinguished.60 Gender issues are also male issues and concern the
construction of maleness—suggesting the possibility of a "counter-hegemonic" construction of
maleness.61

These points were made in various ways, though the workshop was unable to carry out a fuller
explication of their meaning for religion in public life. Here the concept papers prove to be "thicker" in
their understanding of context. One group, however, noted that a thicker understanding of context
requires more than a socio-economic analysis; and it requires paying attention not only to actualities
(that which is) but also possibilities (that which is still to come).62

v v v v

This section has attempted to look at the question of forming a common language by which we might
unpack and develop our understandings of religion in public life. It began with some caveats, identified
the central concepts which generate confusion or provocation, and outlined some subordinate and
modifying concepts. It then moved on to problematise, nuance and deepen the language(s) that
appeared most strongly to shape the discussions and debates of the three days over which the
workshop ran. In the process, it becomes clear that a great deal of attention was paid to notions of
discourse on or from the margins, and of discourse as marginal. This in itself is not surprising, given the
South African context and the general profile of those academics who attended the workshop—mainly
people for whom "gender", "race" and (to a considerably lesser extent) "class" are not simply theoretical
constructs but personal and practical matters.

Conclusion

This report has given an account of the preparatory academic conference for the Multi-Event 1999 and
provided a series of snapshots of the way in which South Africans in particular, with input from
international partners, frame and develop the relevant concepts. The original idea behind its production
was to better prepare people for the debates scheduled to take place in Cape Town in February, 1999. It
was a goal of the academic conference to provide South Africans an opportunity to clarify their own
thoughts and extend their own debates in interaction with overseas participants. This document has also
provided a record of this.

Perhaps the metaphor of a "map" rather than a photograph assists at this point. The workshop, and what
is reflected of it in this document, in its task of pursuing framing questions and key concepts about
religion in public life, was something like coming off a motorway of liberation struggle, transition, and
transformation and arriving at a relatively unknown city centre. Numerous roads appear along the way,
some off the main highway, some busy thoroughfares, some hidden back-streets, some going one way,
some intersecting and diverting, some dead-ending in a cul-de-sac.

This report has been primarily about charting these roads—opening up issues and questions, rather than
tying down specific routes or prescribing answers. Its aim is to generate further, better informed debate
and reflection in the service of wiser, more penetrating practice.





Footnotes

1 At the time of writing, these concrete issues and topics included "African renaissance"; AIDS/HIV;
arts, religion & transformation; crime & corruption; does public policy need religion?; eco-justice,
ecclesia & community; economic values & ethics; faith communities, NGOs & government; gender, race
& class revisited; globalisation, poverty & Jubilee 2000; land & labour; media & religion; nationhood &
humanity; truth, reconciliation & the future.

2 A selection of these papers is provided with this report. All the papers are available in hard copy from
ME 99, c/o Dept. of Religious Studies, Univ. of Cape Town, Private Bag, Rondebosch 7701, and on the
ME99 web-site: http://www.ricsa.org.za/ME99.

3 Footnotes in this section tie specific points to the various discussion groups and concept papers. At
the beginning of the conference, groups were divided into colour-codes (red, yellow, etc.). From the
middle of the second day, groups were reorganised and were designated by numbers (group one, two,
etc.). We have given a reference to the particular group for the sake of those who may wish consult the
full context of a specific discussion. All material is available from the ME99 office. See note 2 for details.

4 Even the Platonic notion of "universals", one participant reminded us, is properly understood to mean
"tentative though enduring approximations to reality".

5 Red group discussion, Theme 1.

6 Red group discussion, Theme 2. Some also spoke of withdrawal from the public as "religious
ghettoization". The blue group made a similar point, but using the term "private" as opposed to "public".
The implication is that this is not how things are to be, though the talk of remaining private and of
engaging the public implies that religion is more "at home" in a private sphere.

7 Cf. Paul Farlam's concept paper as well.

8 Gerald West's concept paper is sensitive to this use of the term.

9 Cf. Gary Gunderson's concept paper. In discussion it was noted that a definition of health current
among professionals as "not a goal but a facilitator for achieving our goals".

10 A response to Gunderson's paper (in the plenary discussion, the semantic shift from "health" to
"healing" was noted).

11 Blue group discussion, Theme 1.

12 One group saw that this concept is common to law and religion; another noted its affinity with
traditional African culture.

13 The term "spirituality" was itself differently used, while some complained that it had become
overused, meaning everything and therefore nothing. Red group discussion, Theme 2.

14 William Everett's concept paper. Not only is the nature of civil religion contested, but so is its
authenticity. For some it means a false religion. Group Discussion, Theme 6. Everett's use is neutral.

15 Cf. Robin Petersen's concept paper. Patriarchy was similarly described as "the religion of the planet"
in Susan Brooks Thistlewaite's paper.

16 Cf. also H. Russel Botman's paper. What provides the grammar is described as "morals" or "values".

17 Red group discussion, Theme 2.

18 Buti Tlhagale was one who appealed for a "mediating language" which would transcend
denominational and sectarian religious interests yet be "publicly accessible". But he also made a strong
distinction between what he termed "religiously based" and "secular" arguments, maintaining that in the
public arena the former must give way to the latter.

19 Everett's paper offers a normative typology of religion and public, implying strongly that the third of his
types is how things should be. Dwight N. Hopkins' paper observes that "African indigenous
religio-cultural values were not separable from the public sphere."

20 Plenary session, Theme 1. Likewise the term "public discourse", a group noted, needs to give way to
the notion of "public discourses"-the corporate world, the media, politics, etc.

21 Legal language, for example, cannot be reduced to "moral" language, though there has to be a way of
"placing" each in relation to the other.

22 Cf. Stephen W. Martin's concept paper: The TRC faith hearings in particular are a good case study of
a confluence of languages and genres.

23 Some kind of faith is present whenever one speaks of how the world ought to be. Pink group
discussion, Theme 2. Also Douglas R. McGaughey's paper: there is an ought in every is.

24 Gunderson's concept paper.

25 Rebecca S. Chopp's concept paper.

26 Discussion groups for Theme 3. James Scott, Domination and the Arts of Resistance: Hidden
Transcripts (New Haven: Yale, 1991) was a work referred to in several discussions

27 Chopp's, Robert Franklin's and Hopkins' concept papers.

28 Red group discussion, Theme 2, noting that "religiously imbued" discussions often occurred in
cabinet; it was also noted that many members of the ecumenical church which mobilised against
apartheid now form a kind of "church" sitting in parliament (with prayer meetings).

29 The word "idolatry" is a normative word specific to "monotheistic religions". However, like the word
"prophetic", its meaning is translatable in other contexts.

30 Plenary discussion, Theme 1. Rationality refers to the processes embodied in discourse ethics (e.g.
Habermas) rather than cognitive or mental activity. A contrary assertion was that "religion" refers to the
utopian and "economics" to the rational dimension. Small group discussion Theme 6.

31 Chopp's concept paper.

32 Plenary discussion, Theme 9.

33 Yellow group discussion, Theme 6.

34 Chopp's concept paper.

35 Green group discussion, Theme 2. Also cf. Daryl Balia's concept paper.

36 E.g. yellow group discussion, Theme 1.

37 Cf. A. Rashid Omar's concept paper.

38 As when a term such as "ubuntu", held "sacred" by a particular community, is co-opted to sell
products or votes.

39 Cf. Petersen's paper.

40 Discussion of McGaughey's paper, Theme 2.

41 Pink group discussion, Theme 2.

42 Pink group discussion, Theme 2.

43 Some felt that dialogue amongst religions could provide a model for relating identity and difference.
But others argued that whereas one (usually) chooses to identify oneself with a religious tradition, one is
"born-into" an ethnic, racial or national group. Pink group discussion, Theme 2.

44 Petersen's paper, Theme 2. The green group argued in session #5 that the term "exclusion" (the
opposite of embrace) was a better term that "marginalisation".

45 Omar's concept paper.

46 Pink group discussion, Theme 3.

47 Green group discussion, Theme 3.

48 Plenary session, Theme 3; green group discussion, Theme 3.

49 Plenary discussion, Theme 2. West's paper uses the same idea with reference to power: of a
continuum with hegemony at one end and a "consciously ideological" position at the other.

50 Cf. Chirevo V. Kwenda's concept paper; also Masenya and West, and Plenary discussion, Theme 3.

51 West's concept paper. See section one above.

52 West's concept paper.

53 West's concept paper.

54 Cf. West's and Chopp's concept papers.

55 Plenary discussion, Theme 9. Also plenary discussion of Theme 2.

56 Group two discussion, Theme 8.

57 Chopp's concept paper.

58 Petersen's concept paper.

59 Tinyiko S. Maluleke's concept paper.

60 Thistlewaite's concept paper.

61 Plenary discussion, Theme 7.

62 Group one discussion, Theme 8.