Editorials World of Religions
Listed in descending chronological order: from most recent (Nov-Dec 2013) to oldest (Nov-Dec 2004)
Le Monde des Religions No. 62 – Nov/December 2013 – On the subject of miracles, I know of no text as profound and illuminating as the reflection Spinoza offers us in chapter 6 of the Theologico-Political Treatise. “Just as men call divine any science that surpasses the scope of the human mind, they see the hand of God in every phenomenon whose cause is generally unknown,” writes the Dutch philosopher. Now, God cannot act outside the laws of nature that he himself established. If unexplained phenomena exist, they never contradict natural laws, but they appear to us as “miraculous” or “prodigious” because we still have a limited knowledge of the complex laws of nature. Spinoza thus explains that the wonders reported in the Scriptures are either legendary or the result of natural causes that are beyond our understanding: this is the case with the Red Sea, which is said to have opened under the effect of a violent wind, or the healings of Jesus, which mobilize resources still unknown to the human body or mind. The philosopher then engages in a political deconstruction of the belief in miracles and denounces the "arrogance" of those who thus intend to show that their religion or their nation "is dearer to God than all others." Not only does the belief in miracles, understood as supernatural phenomena, appear to him as a "stupidity" contrary to reason, but also contrary to true faith, and which would be detrimental to it: "If, therefore, a phenomenon occurred in nature that was not in conformity with its laws, one would have to admit of necessity that it is contrary to them and that it reverses the order that God established in the universe by giving it general laws to regulate it eternally. From which we must conclude that belief in miracles should lead to universal doubt and atheism." It is not without emotion that I write this editorial, because it is my last. It has indeed been almost ten years since I directed Le Monde des Religions. The time has come to hand over and devote all my time to my personal projects: books, plays and soon, I hope, a film. I have had great joy in living this exceptional editorial adventure and thank you from the bottom of my heart for your loyalty, which has allowed this newspaper to become a true reference on religious matters throughout the French-speaking world (it is distributed in sixteen French-speaking countries). I sincerely hope that you will continue to remain attached to it and I am happy to entrust the reins to Virginie Larousse, the editor-in-chief, who has an excellent knowledge of religions and good journalistic experience. She will be assisted in her task by an editorial committee bringing together several personalities with whom you are familiar. We are working together on a new formula that you will discover in January, and that she will present to you herself in the next issue. Best wishes to everyone. Read the articles online from Le Monde des Religions: www.lemondedesreligions.fr Save Save Save Save [...]
Le Monde des Religions No. 61 – Sept/October 2013 – As Saint Augustine wrote in The Happy Life: “The desire for happiness is essential to man; it is the motive for all our actions. The most venerable, the most understood, the most clarified, the most constant thing in the world is not only that we want to be happy, but that we want to be nothing but that. This is what our nature forces us to do.” If every human being aspires to happiness, the whole question is whether deep and lasting happiness can exist here below. Religions provide very divergent answers on this subject. The two most opposed positions seem to me to be those of Buddhism and Christianity. While the entire doctrine of the Buddha is based on the pursuit of a state of perfect serenity here and now, that of Christ promises the faithful true happiness in the afterlife. This is due to the life of its founder – Jesus died tragically at around 36 years old – but also to his message: the Kingdom of God that he announced was not an earthly kingdom but a heavenly one and beatitude was to come: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matthew 5:5). In an ancient world rather inclined to seek happiness here and now, including in Judaism, Jesus clearly shifted the issue of happiness to the afterlife. This hope of a heavenly paradise would run through the history of the Christian West and sometimes lead to many extremisms: radical asceticism and the desire for martyrdom, mortifications and sufferings sought in view of the heavenly Kingdom. But with Voltaire’s famous words – “Paradise is where I am” – a formidable reversal of perspective took place in Europe from the 18th century onwards: paradise was no longer to be expected in the afterlife but achieved on Earth, thanks to reason and human efforts. Belief in the afterlife—and therefore in a paradise in heaven—will gradually diminish, and the vast majority of our contemporaries will seek happiness in the here and now. Christian preaching is completely disrupted. After having so insisted on the torments of hell and the joys of heaven, Catholic and Protestant preachers hardly speak of the afterlife anymore. The most popular Christian movements—the evangelicals and the charismatics—have fully integrated this new situation and constantly affirm that faith in Jesus brings the greatest happiness, even here below. And since many of our contemporaries equate happiness with wealth, some even go so far as to promise the faithful “economic prosperity” on Earth, thanks to faith. We are a long way from Jesus who affirmed that "it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven" (Matthew 19:24)! The profound truth of Christianity is undoubtedly found between these two extremes: the refusal of life and morbid asceticism – rightly denounced by Nietzsche – in the name of eternal life or the fear of hell on the one hand; the sole pursuit of earthly happiness on the other. Jesus, deep down, did not despise the pleasures of this life and did not practice any "mortification": he loved to drink, eat, and share with his friends. We often see him "leaping for joy." But he clearly affirmed that supreme beatitude is not to be expected in this life. He does not reject earthly happiness, but puts other values before it: love, justice, truth. He thus shows that one can sacrifice one's happiness here on earth and give one's life for love, to fight against injustice or to be faithful to a truth. The contemporary testimonies of Gandhi, Martin Luther King or Nelson Mandela are beautiful illustrations of this. The question remains whether the gift of their lives will find a just reward in the afterlife? This is the promise of Christ and the hope of billions of believers throughout the world. Read the articles online from Le Monde des Religions: www.lemondedesreligions.fr [...]
Le Monde des Religions No. 60 – July/August 2013 – A Jewish story tells that, in reality, God created Eve before Adam. As Eve was bored in paradise, she asked God to give her a companion. After careful consideration, God finally granted her request: “All right, I will create man. But be careful, he is very sensitive: never tell him that you were created before him, he would take it very badly. Let this remain a secret between us… between women!” If God exists, it is obvious that he is not gendered. We might therefore wonder why most of the great religions have made an exclusively masculine representation of him. As this issue’s dossier reminds us, this has not always been the case. The cult of the Great Goddess undoubtedly preceded that of “Yahweh, Lord of Armies,” and goddesses occupied a prominent place in the pantheons of the first civilizations. The masculinization of the clergy is undoubtedly one of the main reasons for this reversal, which took place over the three millennia preceding our era: how could a city and a religion governed by men venerate a supreme deity of the opposite sex? With the development of patriarchal societies, the cause is therefore understood: the supreme god, or the only god, can no longer be conceived as feminine. Not only in his representation, but also in his character and function: his attributes of power, domination, and authority are valued. In heaven as on earth, the world is governed by a dominant male. Even if the feminine character of the divine will persist within religions through various mystical or esoteric currents, it is ultimately only in the modern era that this hypermasculinization of God is truly called into question. Not that we are moving from a masculine to a feminine representation of the divine. We are rather witnessing a rebalancing. God is no longer primarily perceived as a formidable judge, but above all as good and merciful; more and more believers are believing in his benevolent providence. One could say that the typically "paternal" figure of God is tending to fade in favor of a more typically "maternal" representation. Similarly, sensitivity, emotion, and fragility are valued in spiritual experience. This evolution is obviously not unrelated to the revaluation of women in our modern societies, which increasingly affects religions, in particular by allowing women to access teaching and worship leadership positions. It also reflects the recognition, in our modern societies, of qualities and values identified as more "typically" feminine, even if they obviously concern men as much as women: compassion, openness, acceptance, and the protection of life. Faced with the worrying macho upsurge of religious fundamentalisms of all stripes, I am convinced that this revalorization of women and this feminization of the divine constitute the main key to a true spiritual renewal within religions. Certainly, women are the future of God. I take advantage of this editorial to salute two women whom our faithful readers know well. Jennifer Schwarz, who was editor-in-chief of your magazine, is today leaving for new adventures. I thank her from the bottom of my heart for the enthusiasm and generosity with which she invested herself for more than five years in her role. I also warmly welcome her successor in this position: Virginie Larousse. The latter has long edited an academic journal devoted to religions and taught the history of religions at the University of Burgundy. She has collaborated for many years with Le Monde des Religions. [...]
Le Monde des Religions No. 59 – May/June 2013 – Called upon to comment on the event live on France 2, when I discovered that the new pope was Jorge Mario Bergoglio, my immediate reaction was to say that it was a truly spiritual event. The first time I had heard of the Archbishop of Buenos Aires was about ten years earlier from Abbé Pierre. During a trip to Argentina, he had been struck by the simplicity of this Jesuit who had abandoned the magnificent episcopal palace to live in a modest apartment and who frequently went alone to the slums. The choice of the name Francis, echoing the Poverello of Assisi, only confirmed that we were about to witness a profound change in the Catholic Church. Not a change in doctrine, nor even probably in morality, but in the very conception of the papacy and in the mode of governance of the Church. Presenting himself before the thousands of faithful gathered in St. Peter's Square as "the Bishop of Rome" and asking the crowd to pray for him before praying with them, Francis showed in a few minutes, through numerous signs, that he intends to return to a humble conception of his role. A conception that harks back to that of the first Christians, who had not yet made the Bishop of Rome not only the universal head of all Christendom, but also a true monarch at the head of a temporal state. Since his election, Francis has multiplied his acts of charity. The question now arises as to how far he will go in the immense project of renewal of the Church that awaits him. Will he finally reform the Roman Curia and the Vatican Bank, shaken by scandals for more than 30 years? Will he implement a collegial mode of governing the Church? Will he seek to maintain the current status of the Vatican State, a legacy of the ancient Papal States, which is in flagrant contradiction with Jesus' witness to poverty and his rejection of temporal power? How will he also face the challenges of ecumenism and interreligious dialogue, subjects that greatly interest him? And again, that of evangelization, in a world where the gap continues to widen between ecclesial discourse and people's lives, especially in the West? One thing is certain: Francis has the qualities of heart and intelligence, and even the charisma necessary to bring this great breath of the Gospel to the Catholic world and beyond, as shown by his first declarations in favor of world peace based on respect for the diversity of cultures and even of all creation (for the first time, no doubt, animals have a pope who cares about them!). The violent criticism he was subjected to the day after his election, accusing him of collusion with the former military junta while he was a young superior of the Jesuits, ceased a few days later, notably after his compatriot and Nobel Peace Prize winner, Adolfo Pérez Esquivel – imprisoned for 14 months and tortured by the military junta – affirmed that the new pope had, unlike other clergymen, "no connection with the dictatorship." Francis is therefore enjoying a state of grace that can lead him to any audacity. On the condition, however, that the same fate does not befall him as John Paul I, who had raised so much hope before dying in an enigmatic manner less than a month after his election. Francis is undoubtedly not wrong to ask the faithful to pray for him. www.lemondedesreligions.fr [...]
Le Monde des Religion No. 58 – March/April 2013 – It may seem strange to some of our readers that, following the heated parliamentary debate in France on same-sex marriage, we are devoting a large part of this issue to how religions view homosexuality. We certainly address the essential elements of this debate, which also touches on the question of filiation, in the second part of the issue, with the contradictory points of view of the Chief Rabbi of France Gilles Bernheim, the philosophers Olivier Abel and Thibaud Collin, the psychoanalyst and ethnologist Geneviève Delaisi de Parseval, and the sociologist Danièle Hervieu-Léger. But it seems to me that an important question has been largely overlooked until now: what do religions think about homosexuality, and how have they treated homosexuals for centuries? This question has been sidestepped by most religious leaders themselves, who have immediately placed the debate on the terrain of anthropology and psychoanalysis, and not on that of theology or religious law. The reasons for this are better understood when we look more closely at the way in which homosexuality is violently criticized by most sacred texts and how homosexuals are still treated in many parts of the world in the name of religion. For while homosexuality was widely tolerated in antiquity, it is presented as a major perversion in the Jewish, Christian, and Muslim Scriptures. "If a man lies with a male as with a woman, what they do is an abomination; they shall be put to death, and their blood shall be upon them," it is written in Leviticus (Lev 20:13). The Mishnah will not say anything else and the fathers of the Church will not have words harsh enough for this practice which "insults God" according to the expression of Thomas Aquinas, since it violates, in his eyes, the very order of nature desired by the Almighty. Under the reigns of the very Christian emperors Theodosius or Justinian, homosexuals were liable to death, because they were suspected of making a pact with the devil and were held responsible for natural disasters or epidemics. The Koran, in about thirty verses, condemns this "unnatural" and "outrageous" act, and Sharia law still condemns homosexual men to punishments, varying according to the country, from imprisonment to hanging, including a hundred blows with sticks. Asian religions are generally more tolerant of homosexuality, but it is condemned by the Vinaya, the monastic code of Buddhist communities, and certain branches of Hinduism. Even if the positions of Jewish and Christian institutions have softened considerably in recent decades, the fact remains that homosexuality is still considered a crime or an offense in around a hundred countries and that it remains one of the main causes of suicide among young people (in France, one in three homosexuals under the age of 20 has attempted suicide due to social rejection). It is this violent discrimination, carried for millennia by religious arguments, that we also wanted to recall. There remains the debate, complex and essential, not only on marriage, but even more so on the family (since it is not the question of equal civil rights between homosexual and heterosexual couples that is really being debated, but that of filiation and questions related to bioethics). This debate goes beyond the demands of homosexual couples, since it concerns the issues of adoption, medically assisted procreation, and surrogacy, which can affect heterosexual couples just as much. The government was wise enough to postpone it until the fall by seeking the opinion of the National Ethics Committee. These are crucial questions that can neither be avoided nor resolved with arguments as simplistic as "this is disrupting our societies"—they are, in fact, already disrupted—or, on the contrary, "this is the inevitable course of the world": any change must be evaluated in terms of what is good for human beings and society. http://www.lemondedesreligions.fr/mensuel/2013/58/ [...]
Le Monde des Religions No. 57 – January/February 2013 – Is the idea that each individual can “find their spiritual path” eminently modern? Yes and no. In the East, at the time of the Buddha, there were many seekers of the Absolute who were in search of a personal path to liberation. In ancient Greece and Rome, mystery cults and numerous philosophical schools—from the Pythagoreans to the Neoplatonists, including the Stoics and Epicureans—offered numerous paths of initiation and wisdom to individuals seeking a good life. The subsequent development of major areas of civilization, each founded on a religion giving meaning to individual and collective life, would limit the spiritual offerings. Nevertheless, within each major tradition, one will always find diverse spiritual currents, responding to a certain diversity of individual expectations. Thus, in Christianity, the many religious orders offer a fairly wide variety of spiritual sensibilities: from the most contemplative, such as the Carthusians or the Carmelites, to the most intellectual, such as the Dominicans or the Jesuits, or even those emphasizing poverty (Franciscans), the balance between work and prayer (Benedictines) or charitable action (Brothers and Sisters of Saint Vincent de Paul, Missionaries of Charity). Beyond those involved in religious life, we saw the development from the end of the Middle Ages of lay associations, most often living in the movement of the great orders, even if these were not always well received by the institution, as shown by the persecution of which the Beguines were victims. We find the same phenomenon in Islam with the development of numerous Sufi brotherhoods, some of which were also persecuted. Jewish mystical sensitivity will be expressed through the birth of the Kabbalist movement, and we will continue to find in Asia a great diversity of schools and spiritual currents. Modernity will bring two new elements: the departure from collective religion and the mixing of cultures. We will thus witness new spiritual syncretisms linked to the personal aspirations of each individual in search of meaning and see the development of a secular spirituality that expresses itself outside of any religious belief and practice. This situation is not entirely unprecedented, because it is reminiscent of that of Roman Antiquity, but the mixture of cultures is much more intense (everyone today has access to the entire spiritual heritage of humanity), and we are also witnessing a true democratization of the spiritual quest that no longer simply concerns a social elite. But through all these metamorphoses, an essential question remains: should each individual seek and can they find the spiritual path that allows them to achieve their best possible fulfillment? I answer assuredly: yes. Yesterday as today, the spiritual path is the fruit of a personal approach, and this has a better chance of succeeding if each person seeks a path that is adapted to their sensitivity, their possibilities, their ambition, their desire, their questioning. Of course, some individuals find themselves lost in the face of the wide choice of paths offered to us today. "What is the best spiritual path?" the Dalai Lama was once asked. The Tibetan leader's response: "The one that makes you better." This is undoubtedly an excellent criterion for discernment. http://www.lemondedesreligions.fr/mensuel/2013/57/ Save [...]
Le Monde des religions n° 56 – Nov/Dec 2012 – There are those who are mad for God. Those who kill in the name of their religion. From Moses, who ordered the massacre of the Canaanites, to the jihadists of Al-Qaeda, including the Catholic Grand Inquisitor, religious fanaticism takes various forms within monotheistic religions, but always has its source in the same crucible of identity: we kill – or we order killing – to protect the purity of blood or faith, to defend the community (or even a culture, as in the case of Brezhnev) against those who threaten it, to extend the hold of religion over society. Religious fanaticism is a dramatic deviation from a biblical and Koranic message that aims primarily to educate human beings to respect others. This is the poison secreted by communitarianism: the feeling of belonging—to the people, to the institution, to the community—becomes more important than the message itself, and "God" is nothing more than an alibi for self-defense and domination. Religious fanaticism was perfectly analyzed and denounced by the philosophers of the Enlightenment more than two centuries ago. They fought so that freedom of conscience and expression could exist within societies still dominated by religion. Thanks to them, we in the West today are free not only to believe or not to believe, but also to criticize religion and denounce its dangers. But this struggle and this hard-won freedom must not make us forget that these same philosophers aimed to enable everyone to live in harmony within the same political space. Freedom of expression, whether intellectual or artistic, is therefore not intended to attack others for the sole purpose of provoking or sparking conflict. Moreover, John Locke considered, in the name of social peace, that the most virulent atheists should be banned from public speaking, like the most intransigent Catholics! What would he say today to those who produce and distribute on the internet a pathetic film from an artistic point of view, which touches on what is most sacred for Muslim believers – the figure of the Prophet – with the sole aim of activating tensions between the West and the Islamic world? What would he say to those who add to it by publishing new caricatures of Muhammad, with the aim of selling papers, by blowing on the still-hot embers of anger of many Muslims around the world? All this for what results? Deaths, Christian minorities increasingly threatened in Muslim countries, increased tension throughout the world. The fight for freedom of expression—no matter how noble—does not exempt us from a geopolitical analysis of the situation: extremist groups are exploiting images to rally crowds around a common enemy, a fantasized West, reduced to a cinematic delirium and a few caricatures. We live in an interconnected world subject to numerous tensions that threaten world peace. What the philosophers of the Enlightenment advocated at the national level is now valid on a global scale: caricatured criticisms whose sole purpose is to offend believers and provoke the most extremist among them are stupid and dangerous. Their main effect, above all, is to strengthen the camp of the God-loving and to weaken the efforts of those who try to establish a constructive dialogue between cultures and religions. Freedom implies responsibility and concern for the common good. Without it, no society is viable. http://www.lemondedesreligions.fr/mensuel/2012/56/ Save [...]
Le Monde des religions n° 55 – September/October 2012 — About thirty years ago, when I began my studies in sociology and the history of religions, all we talked about was "secularization," and most specialists in religion thought that religion would gradually metamorphose, then dissolve, within European societies increasingly marked by materialism and individualism. The European model would then spread to the rest of the world with the globalization of Western values and lifestyles. In short, religion was doomed in the more or less long term. Over the past ten years, the model and the analysis have been reversed: we talk about "desecularization," we see the rise of identity-based and conservative religious movements everywhere, and Peter Berger, the great American sociologist of religions, notes that "the world is still as furiously religious as it has always been." Europe is therefore perceived as a global exception, but one that in turn risks being increasingly affected by this new religious wave. So, what scenario for the future? Based on current trends, informed observers offer in this issue's major report a possible panorama of religions in the world by 2050. Christianity would increase its lead over other religions, notably thanks to the demographics of the countries of the South but also by the strong growth of evangelicals and Pentecostals on the five continents. Islam would continue to progress through its demographics, but this growth is expected to slow significantly, particularly in Europe and Asia, which will ultimately limit the growth of the Muslim religion, which attracts far fewer conversions than Christianity. Hinduism and Buddhism would remain more or less stable, even if the values and certain practices of the latter (such as meditation) will continue to spread more and more widely in the West and Latin America. Like other religions, very much in the minority, linked to transmission by blood, Judaism will remain stable or decline depending on different demographic scenarios and the number of mixed marriages. But beyond these major trends, as Jean-Paul Willaime and Raphaël Liogier each remind us in their own way, religions will continue to transform and undergo the effects of modernity, notably individualization and globalization. Today, individuals have an increasingly personal vision of religion and create their own system of meaning, sometimes syncretic, often improvised. Even fundamentalist or integralist movements are the product of individuals or groups of individuals who tinker by reinventing "a pure religion of origins." As long as the process of globalization continues, religions will continue to provide identity markers to individuals who lack them and who are worried or feel culturally invaded or dominated. And as long as man is in search of meaning, he will continue to seek answers in the vast religious heritage of humanity. But these quests for identity and spirituality can no longer be experienced, as in the past, within an immutable tradition or a normative institutional system. The future of religions is therefore not only determined by the number of followers, but also by the way in which they will reinterpret the legacy of the past. And this is the biggest question mark that makes any long-term prospective analysis perilous. So, in the absence of rationality, we can always imagine and dream. This is also what we offer you in this issue, through our columnists, who have agreed to answer the question: "What religion do you dream of for 2050?" Save [...]
The World of Religions No. 54 – July/August 2012 — A growing number of scientific studies demonstrate the correlation between faith and healing and confirm observations made since the dawn of time: the thinking animal that is man has a different relationship to life, to illness, to death, depending on the state of trust in which he finds himself. From trust in oneself, in one's therapist, in science, in God, through the paths of the placebo effect, arises a crucial question: does believing help to heal? What are the influences of the mind – through prayer or meditation, for example – on the healing process? What importance can the doctor's own convictions have in his relationship of care and assistance to the patient? These important questions shed new light on the essential questions: what is illness? What does "healing" mean? Healing is always ultimately self-healing: it is the body and mind of the patient that produce the healing. It is through cellular regeneration that the body regains a balance it had lost. It is often useful, even necessary, to help the sick body through therapeutic action and the absorption of medication. But these only help the patient's self-healing process. The psychological dimension, faith, morale, and the relational environment also play a decisive role in this healing process. It is therefore the whole person who is mobilized to heal. The balance of the body and the psyche cannot be restored without a true commitment from the patient to regain health, without confidence in the care provided and possibly, for some, a confidence in life in general or in a benevolent higher force that helps them. Similarly, sometimes, a cure, that is to say, a return to balance, cannot be achieved without there also being a change in the patient's environment: their rhythm and lifestyle, their diet, their way of breathing or treating their body, their emotional, friendly, and professional relationships. Because many illnesses are the local symptom of a more global imbalance in the patient's life. If the patient is not aware of this, they will go from illness to illness, or suffer from chronic illnesses, depression, etc. What the paths to healing teach us is that we cannot treat a human being like a machine. We cannot treat a person like we repair a bicycle, by changing a bent wheel or a flat tire. It is the social, emotional, and spiritual dimension of man that is expressed in illness, and it is this global dimension that must be taken into account when treating him. As long as we have not truly integrated this, there is a chance that France will remain the world champion in the consumption of anxiolytics, antidepressants, and in the deficit of its social security for a long time to come. Save [...]
The World of Religions No. 53 – May/June 2012 — Today, the time is more for the quest for identity, for the rediscovery of one's own cultural roots, for community solidarity. And, alas, increasingly also: for withdrawal, fear of the other, moral rigidity, and narrow dogmatism. No region of the world, no religion, escapes this vast global movement of return to identity and norms. From London to Cairo, via Delhi, Houston, or Jerusalem, the time is indeed for veiling or wig-wearing for women, for rigorous sermons, and for the triumph of the guardians of dogma. Contrary to what I experienced at the end of the 1970s, young people who are still interested in religion are for the most part less out of a desire for wisdom or a quest for self-discovery than out of a need for strong reference points and a desire to be anchored in the tradition of their fathers. Fortunately, this movement is not inevitable. It was born as an antidote to the excesses of uncontrolled globalization and the brutal individualization of our societies. It was also a reaction to dehumanizing economic liberalism and a very rapid liberalization of morals. We are therefore witnessing a very classic swing of the pendulum. After freedom, the law. After the individual, the group. After the utopias of change, the security of past models. I readily acknowledge, moreover, that there is something healthy in this return to identity. After an excess of libertarian and consumerist individualism, it is good to rediscover the importance of social ties, of the law, of virtue. What I deplore is the overly rigorous and intolerant nature of most current returns to religion. One can re-enter a community without falling into communitarianism; adhere to the age-old message of a great tradition without becoming sectarian; want to lead a virtuous life without being moralistic. In the face of these rigidities, there fortunately exists an internal antidote to religions: spirituality. The more believers dig into their own tradition, the more they will discover treasures of wisdom capable of touching their hearts and opening their minds, of reminding them that all human beings are brothers and sisters and that violence and judgment of others are more serious offenses than transgression of religious rules. The development of religious intolerance and communitarianism worries me, but not religions as such, which can certainly produce the worst, but also bring the best. Save [...]
Le Monde des religions No. 52 – March/April 2012 — The question of how French people vote according to their religion is very rarely addressed. Even though, under the principle of secularism, religious affiliation has not been asked in censuses since the beginning of the Third Republic, we do have opinion surveys that provide some insight into this subject. Due to their narrow sampling, however, these surveys cannot measure religions that are too small, such as Judaism, Protestantism, or Buddhism, which each have fewer than a million followers. However, we can get a precise idea of the vote of people who identify as Catholic (around 60% of French people, including 25% practicing) and Muslim (around 5%), as well as of people who identify as "without religion" (around 30% of French people). A Sofres/Pèlerin Magazine poll conducted last January confirms the historical right-wing roots of French Catholics. In the first round, 33% of them would vote for Nicolas Sarkozy, and the score rises to 44% among practicing Catholics. They would also be 21% to vote for Marine Le Pen, but the score is reduced to that of the national average among practicing Catholics (18%). In the second round, 53% of Catholics would vote for Nicolas Sarkozy against 47% for François Hollande, and practicing Catholics would vote 67% for the right-wing candidate – and even 75% for regular practicing Catholics. This survey also tells us that while Catholics align with the average of all French people in placing the defense of employment and the defense of purchasing power as their two main concerns, they are less numerous than others to be concerned about reducing inequality and poverty… but more numerous to be concerned about the fight against delinquency. Faith and evangelical values ultimately weigh less in the political vote of the majority of Catholics than economic or security concerns. It doesn't matter, moreover, whether the candidate is Catholic or not. It is thus striking to note that the only major candidate in the presidential election who clearly displays his Catholic practice, François Bayrou, does not garner more voting intentions among Catholics than among the rest of the population. Most French Catholics, and especially practicing ones, are above all attached to a value system based on order and stability. However, François Bayrou, on various societal issues with fundamental ethical stakes, has a progressive point of view. This is undoubtedly enough to destabilize a good part of the traditional Catholic electorate. Nicolas Sarkozy has undoubtedly sensed this, he who, on bioethics laws, homoparentality, and same-sex marriage, remains in line with traditional Catholic positions. Finally, surveys conducted by the Center for Political Research at Sciences Po show that French Muslims, unlike Catholics, vote overwhelmingly for the left (78%). Even though three-quarters of them hold low-skilled jobs, we nevertheless observe a vote specifically linked to religion, since 48% of Muslim workers and employees classify themselves on the left, compared to 26% of Catholic workers and employees and 36% of workers and employees "without religion." Overall, the "without religion" - a category that continues to grow - also vote strongly to the left (71%). A strange alliance thus appears, between the "without religion" - most often progressive on societal issues - and French Muslims, undoubtedly more conservative on these same issues, but engaged in an "anyone but Sarkozy" logic. [...]
Le Monde des religions n°51 – January/February 2012 — Our dossier highlights an important fact: spiritual experience in its very diverse forms—prayer, shamanic trance, meditation—has a physical imprint on the brain. Beyond the philosophical debate that results from it and the materialist or spiritualist interpretations that can be made of it, I retain another lesson from this fact. It is that spirituality is first and foremost a lived experience that affects the mind as much as the body. Depending on each person's cultural conditioning, it will refer to very different objects or representations: an encounter with God, with an inexpressible force or absolute, with the mysterious depth of the spirit. But these representations will always have in common the fact that they provoke a shaking of the being, an expansion of consciousness and very often of the heart. The sacred, whatever name or form we give it, transforms the one who experiences it. And it disrupts his entire being: emotional body, psyche, spirit. Yet many believers do not have this experience. For them, religion is above all a marker of personal and collective identity, a moral code, a set of beliefs and rules to be observed. In short, religion is reduced to its social and cultural dimension. We can point to the moment in history when this social dimension of religion appeared and gradually took over from personal experience: the transition from nomadic life, where man lived in communion with nature, to sedentary life, where he created cities and replaced the spirits of nature—with whom he came into contact through altered states of consciousness—with the gods of the city to whom he offered sacrifices. The very etymology of the word sacrifice—"to make the sacred"—clearly shows that the sacred is no longer experienced: it is made through a ritual gesture (an offering to the gods) supposed to guarantee the order of the world and protect the city. And this gesture is delegated by the people, who have become numerous, to a specialized clergy. Religion therefore takes on an essentially social and political dimension: it creates links and unites a community around great beliefs, ethical rules and shared rituals. It is in reaction to this excessively external and collective dimension that very diverse sages will appear in all civilizations, around the middle of the first millennium BC, who intend to rehabilitate the personal experience of the sacred: Lao Tzu in China, the authors of the Upanishads and the Buddha in India, Zoroaster in Persia, the initiators of the mystery cults and Pythagoras in Greece, the prophets of Israel up to Jesus. These spiritual currents are often born within religious traditions which they tend to transform by challenging them from within. This extraordinary surge of mysticism, which never ceases to amaze historians by its convergence and synchronicity in the different cultures of the world, will shake up religions by introducing a personal dimension that reconnects in many ways with the experience of the wild sacred of primitive societies. And I am struck by how much our era resembles this ancient period: it is this same dimension that increasingly interests our contemporaries, many of whom have distanced themselves from religion, which they consider too cold, social, and external. This is the paradox of an ultramodernity that attempts to reconnect with the most archaic forms of the sacred: a sacred that is experienced more than it is "made." The 21st century is therefore both religious through the resurgence of identity in the face of fears engendered by too rapid globalization, but also spiritual through this need for experience and transformation of being that many individuals feel, whether religious or not. [...]
Le Monde des religions No. 50 – November/December 2011 — Will the end of the world take place on December 21, 2012? For a long time, I paid no attention to the famous prophecy attributed to the Mayans. But, for several months, many people have been asking me about it, often assuring me that their teenagers are anxious about the information they read on the Internet or affected by 2012, the Hollywood disaster movie. Is the Mayan prophecy authentic? Are there other religious prophecies of the imminent end of the world, as we can read on the Web? What do religions say about the end of times? This issue's dossier answers these questions. But the popularity of this rumor surrounding December 21, 2012, raises another: how can we explain the anxiety of many of our contemporaries, most of them non-religious, and for whom such a rumor seems plausible? I see two explanations. First of all, we are living in a particularly distressing time, where man feels as if he is on board a racing car over which he has lost control. In fact, no institution, no state seems able to slow the race towards the unknown – and perhaps the abyss – into which consumerist ideology and economic globalization under the aegis of ultraliberal capitalism are hurling us: dramatic increases in inequality; ecological disasters threatening the entire planet; uncontrolled financial speculation that is weakening the entire world economy, which has become global. Then there are the upheavals in our lifestyles that have made Western man an amnesiac, uprooted person, but just as incapable of projecting himself into the future. Our lifestyles have undoubtedly changed more over the past century than they had in the previous three or four millennia. The European "of the past" lived mostly in the countryside, he was an observer of nature, rooted in a slow and supportive rural world, as well as in age-old traditions. The same was true for man in the Middle Ages or in Antiquity. The European of today is overwhelmingly urban; he feels connected to the entire planet, but he has no strong local ties; he leads an individualistic existence at a frenetic pace and has most often cut himself off from the age-old traditions of his ancestors. We must undoubtedly go back to the turn of the Neolithic period (around 10,000 years before our era in the Near East and around 3,000 years before our era in Europe), when men left a nomadic life as hunter-gatherers and settled in villages by developing agriculture and livestock farming, to find a revolution as radical as the one we are currently experiencing. This is not without profound consequences for our psyche. The speed with which this revolution has occurred is generating uncertainty, a loss of fundamental reference points, and the precariousness of social ties. It is a source of worry, anxiety, and a confused sense of the fragility of both individuals and human communities, hence a heightened sensitivity to themes of destruction, dislocation, and annihilation. One thing seems certain to me: we are not experiencing the symptoms of the end of the world, but the end of a world. That of the traditional world, several thousand years old, which I have just described with all the thought patterns associated with it, but also that of the ultra-individualistic and consumerist world that succeeded it, in which we are still immersed, which is showing so many signs of running out of steam and is revealing its true limits for genuine progress for humans and societies. Bergson said that we would need a "supplement of soul" to face the new challenges. We can indeed see in this profound crisis not only a series of predicted ecological, economic and social catastrophes, but also the chance for a leap forward, a humanist and spiritual renewal, through an awakening of consciousness and a sharper sense of individual and collective responsibility. [...]
Le Monde des religions No. 49 – September/October 2011 — The strengthening of fundamentalism and communitarianism of all kinds is one of the main effects of September 11. This tragedy, with its global repercussions, revealed and accentuated the Islam-West divide, just as it was the symptom and accelerator of all the fears linked to the ultra-rapid globalization of previous decades and the resulting clash of cultures. But these identity tensions, which continue to worry and constantly fuel the media (the Oslo massacre that occurred in July is one of the latest manifestations), have left in the shadows another consequence of September 11, quite the opposite: the rejection of monotheisms precisely because of the fanaticism they arouse. Recent opinion polls in Europe show that monotheistic religions are increasingly frightening our contemporaries. The words "violence" and "regression" are now more readily associated with them than "peace" and "progress." One of the consequences of this return to religious identity and the fanaticism that often results from it is therefore a sharp increase in atheism. While the movement is general in the West, it is in France that the phenomenon is most striking. There are twice as many atheists as there were ten years ago, and the majority of French people today identify as either atheists or agnostics. Of course, the causes of this sharp rise in disbelief and religious indifference are deeper, and we analyze them in this issue: the development of critical thinking and individualism, urban lifestyles, and the loss of religious transmission, etc. But there is no doubt that contemporary religious violence accentuates a massive phenomenon of detachment from religion, which is much less spectacular than the murderous madness of fanatics. We could use the saying: the sound of the falling tree hides the sound of the growing forest. However, because they rightly worry us and weaken world peace in the short term, we focus far too much on the resurgence of fundamentalisms and communitarianism, forgetting to see that the real change on the scale of long history is the profound decline, in all layers of the population, of religion and the age-old belief in God. I will be told that the phenomenon is European and especially impressive in France. Certainly, but it continues to increase and the trend is even beginning to reach the east coast of the United States. France, after having been the eldest daughter of the church, could well become the eldest daughter of religious indifference. The Arab Spring also shows that the aspiration for individual freedoms is universal and could well have as its ultimate consequence, in the Muslim world, as in the Western world, the emancipation of the individual from religion and the "death of God" prophesied by Nietzsche. The guardians of dogma have understood this well, they who constantly condemn the dangers of individualism and relativism. But can we prevent such a fundamental human need as the freedom to believe, to think, to choose one's values and the meaning one wants to give to one's life? In the long term, the future of religion hardly seems to me to lie in collective identity and the submission of the individual to the group, as was the case for millennia, but in the personal spiritual quest and responsibility. The phase of atheism and rejection of religion into which we are penetrating ever more deeply can, of course, lead to triumphant consumerism, indifference to others, and new barbarities. But it can also be the prelude to new forms of spirituality, secular or religious, truly founded on the great universal values to which we all aspire: truth, freedom, love. Then God—or rather, all his traditional representations—will not have died in vain. [...]
Le Monde des religions No. 48 – July/August 2011 — While the saga of the DSK affair continues to make waves and spark many debates and questions, there is a lesson that Socrates passed on to the young Alcibiades that should be pondered: "To claim to govern the city, one must learn to govern oneself." If Dominique Strauss-Kahn, until this affair the favorite in the polls, were to be found guilty of sexual violence against a cleaning lady at the Sofitel in New York, we could not only pity the victim, but also breathe a great sigh of relief. For if DSK, as some testimonies in France also seem to suggest, is a sexual compulsive capable of brutality, we could have elected to the top of the State either a sick person (if he cannot control himself), or a vicious person (if he does not want to control himself). When we see the shock that the news of his arrests provoked in our country, we hardly dare to ask ourselves what would have happened if such an affair had broken out a year later! The French people's shock, which borders on denial, is largely due to the hopes that were placed in DSK as a serious and responsible man to govern and worthily represent France in the world. This expectation stemmed from a disappointment with Nicolas Sarkozy, judged harshly for his contradictions between his grand declarations on social justice and morality, and his personal attitude, particularly towards money. We therefore hoped for a more morally exemplary man. DSK's fall, whatever the outcome of the trial, is all the harder to digest. However, it has the merit of putting the question of virtue in politics back into the public debate. For if this question is crucial in the United States, it is completely underplayed in France, where there is a tendency to completely separate private and public life, personality and competence. I think the right attitude lies between these two extremes: too much moralism in the United States, not enough attention to the personal morality of politicians in France. For without falling into the American habit of "hunting for sin" among public figures, we must remember, as Socrates says to Alcibiades, that one can doubt the good qualities of governance of a man subject to his passions. The highest responsibilities require the acquisition of certain virtues: self-control, prudence, respect for truth and justice. How can a man who has not been able to acquire these elementary moral virtues for himself put them to good use in governing the city? When one behaves badly at the highest level of the State, how can one ask everyone to act in a good manner? Confucius said 2,500 years ago to the sovereign of Ji Kang: "Seek goodness yourselves and the people will improve. The virtue of the good man is like that of the wind." The virtue of the people is like that of grass, it bends in the direction of the wind" (Conversations, 12/19). Even if the statement sounds a little paternalistic to our modern ears, it is not without truth. [...]
Le Monde des religions No. 47, May-June 2011 — The wind of freedom blowing through Arab countries in recent months is worrying Western chancelleries. Traumatized by the Iranian revolution, we supported dictatorships for decades that were supposed to be a bulwark against Islamism. We cared little that the most fundamental human rights were flouted, that freedom of expression did not exist, that democrats were imprisoned, that a small, corrupt caste was plundering all the country's resources for its own benefit... We could sleep peacefully: these docile dictators were protecting us from the possible seizure of power by uncontrollable Islamists. What we see today is that these peoples are revolting because, like us, they aspire to two values that are the foundation of human dignity: justice and freedom. It was not bearded ideologues who launched these revolts, but desperate unemployed youth, educated and indignant men and women, citizens of all social classes who are demanding an end to oppression and inequity. People who want to live freely, for resources to be more fairly shared and distributed, for justice and an independent press to exist. These people, whom we thought were only capable of living under the iron fist of a good dictator, are today giving us an exemplary lesson in democracy. Let us hope that chaos or a violent takeover will not smother the flames of freedom. And how can we pretend to forget that two centuries ago, we made our revolutions for the same reasons? Certainly, political Islamism is poison. From the assassination of Coptic Christians in Egypt to that of the governor of Punjab in favor of revising the blasphemy law in Pakistan, they continue to sow terror in the name of God, and we must fight with all our might against the growth of this evil. But it is certainly not by supporting ruthless dictatorships that we will stop it, quite the contrary. We know that Islamism feeds on hatred of the West, and a good part of this hatred comes precisely from this double discourse that we constantly hold in the name of realpolitik: yes to the great democratic principles, no to their application in Muslim countries to better control them. I would add that this fear of the Islamists taking power seems less and less plausible to me. Not only because the spearheads of the current revolts in Tunisia, Egypt, or Algeria are very far removed from Islamist circles, but also because, even if Islamic parties will necessarily play an important role in the future democratic process, they have extremely little chance of holding a majority. And even if that were to happen, as in Turkey in the mid-1990s, it is not certain that the population would authorize them to establish Sharia law and free them from electoral sanctions. Peoples trying to get rid of long dictatorships have little desire to fall under the yoke of new despots who would take away their long-desired and hard-won freedom. The Arab peoples have observed the Iranian experience very closely and are perfectly aware of the tyranny that the ayatollahs and mullahs exercise over the whole of society. It is not at a time when Iranians are seeking to escape the cruel theocratic experiment that their neighbors are likely to dream of it. Let us therefore put aside our fears and base political calculations to enthusiastically and wholeheartedly support the people who are rising up against their tyrants. Save Save Save [...]
Le Monde des religions No. 44, November-December 2010 — The tremendous success of Xavier Beauvois's film Of Gods and Men delights me deeply. This enthusiasm is not without surprises, and I would like to explain here why this film touched me and why I think it touched so many viewers. Its first strong point lies in its sobriety and slowness. No grand speeches, little music, long "track shots" where the camera focuses on faces and attitudes, rather than a series of quick alternating shots like in trailers. In a hectic, noisy world where everything moves too fast, this film allows us to immerse ourselves for two hours in a different temporality that leads to interiority. Some don't succeed and are a little bored, but most viewers experience a very rich inner journey. For the monks of Tibhirine, played by admirable actors, draw us into their faith and their doubts. And this is the film's second great quality: far from any Manichaeism, it shows us the monks' hesitations, their strengths and their weaknesses. Filming as close to reality as possible, and perfectly supported by the religious Henri Quinson, Xavier Beauvois paints the portrait of men who are the opposite of Hollywood superheroes, at once tormented and serene, anxious and confident, and who constantly question the usefulness of remaining in a place where they risk being assassinated at any moment. These monks, who nevertheless live a life at the antipodes of ours, then become close to us. We are touched, believers or non-believers, by their clear faith and their fears, we understand their doubts, we feel their attachment to this place and to the population. This loyalty to these villagers with whom they live, and which will also be the main reason for their refusal to leave, and therefore for their tragic end, undoubtedly constitutes the third strength of this film. Because these Catholic monks have chosen to live in a Muslim country that they love deeply, and they maintain a relationship of trust and friendship with the population that shows that the clash of civilizations is in no way inevitable. When people know each other, when they live together, fears and prejudices disappear and everyone can live their faith while respecting that of the other. This is what the prior of the monastery, Father Christian de Chergé, expresses in a moving way in his spiritual testament read in voiceover by Lambert Wilson at the end of the film, when the monks are kidnapped and leave towards their tragic destiny: "If one day – and it could be today – I were to become a victim of the terrorism that now seems to want to encompass all foreigners living in Algeria, I would like my community, my Church, my family to remember that my life was given to God and to this country. I have lived long enough to know that I am an accomplice in the evil that seems, alas, to prevail in the world, and even in that which would strike me blindly. I would like, when the time comes, to have that moment of lucidity which would allow me to ask for forgiveness from God and that of my brothers in humanity, at the same time as forgiving wholeheartedly anyone who has harmed me. The story of these monks, as much as a testimony of faith, is a true lesson in humanity. Link to video Save [...]
Le Monde des religions n°43, September-October 2010 — In his latest essay*, Jean-Pierre Denis, the editorial director of the Christian weekly La Vie, shows how, over the past few decades, the libertarian counterculture that emerged from May 1968 has become the dominant culture, while Christianity has become a peripheral counterculture. The analysis is pertinent, and the author eloquently argues for "a Christianity of objection" that is neither conquering nor defensive. Reading this work inspires me to reflect a few times, beginning with a question that will seem provocative to many readers, to say the least: has our world ever been Christian? That there has been a so-called "Christian" culture, marked by the beliefs, symbols, and rituals of the Christian religion, is obvious. That this culture has deeply permeated our civilization, to the point that even when secularized, our societies remain imbued with an omnipresent Christian heritage – calendar, festivals, buildings, artistic heritage, popular expressions, etc. – is indisputable. But what historians call "Christendom," this thousand-year period running from the end of Antiquity to the Renaissance and which marks the conjunction of the Christian religion and European societies, was it ever Christian in its deepest sense, that is to say, faithful to the message of Christ? For Sören Kierkegaard, a fervent and tormented Christian thinker, "all of Christianity is nothing other than the effort of the human race to get back on its feet, to get rid of Christianity." What the Danish philosopher pertinently underlines is that the message of Jesus is totally subversive of morality, power, and religion, since it places love and powerlessness above all else. so much so that Christians were quick to make it more in line with the human spirit by re-inscribing it within a framework of thought and traditional religious practices. The birth of this "Christian religion", and its incredible distortion from the 4th century onwards in confusion with political power, is very often at odds with the message from which it draws its inspiration. The church is necessary as a community of disciples whose mission is to transmit the memory of Jesus and his presence through the only sacrament he instituted (the Eucharist), to spread his word and above all to bear witness to it. But how can we recognize the evangelical message in canon law, pompous decorum, narrow moralism, the pyramidal ecclesiastical hierarchy, the multiplication of sacraments, the bloody fight against heresies, the hold of the clergy on society with all the excesses that this entails? Christianity is the sublime beauty of cathedrals, but it is also all of that. Noting the end of our Christian civilization, a father of the Second Vatican Council exclaimed: "Christianity is dead, long live Christianity!" Paul Ricoeur, who related this anecdote to me a few years before his death, added: "I would rather say: Christianity is dead, long live the Gospel!, since there has never been an authentically Christian society." Ultimately, does not the decline of the Christian religion constitute an opportunity for the message of Christ to be heard again? "You cannot put new wine into old wineskins," said Jesus. The profound crisis of the Christian churches is perhaps the prelude to a new renaissance of the living faith of the Gospels. A faith which, because it refers to the love of one's neighbor as a sign of God's love, is not without a strong proximity to the secular humanism of human rights constituting the foundation of our modern values. And a faith that will also be a force of fierce resistance to the materialistic and mercantile impulses of an increasingly dehumanized world. A new face of Christianity can thus emerge from the ruins of our "Christian civilization," for which believers attached to the gospel more than to Christian culture and tradition will have no nostalgia. * Why Christianity is a Scandal (Seuil, 2010). http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fELBzF4iSg4 [...]
Le Monde des religions No. 42, July-August 2010 — There is reason to be astonished, especially for a skeptic, by the permanence of astrological beliefs and practices across all the world's cultures. Since the most ancient civilizations, China and Mesopotamia, there has been no significant cultural area that has not seen astral belief flourish. And while it was believed to be moribund in the West since the 17th century and the rise of scientific astronomy, it seems to have risen from its ashes in recent decades in a dual form: popular (newspaper horoscopes) and cultivated – the psycho-astrology of the astral chart, which Edgar Morin does not hesitate to define as a sort of "new science of the subject." In ancient civilizations, astronomy and astrology were combined: rigorous observation of the celestial vault (astronomy) made it possible to predict events occurring on Earth (astrology). This correspondence between celestial events (eclipses, planetary conjunctions, comets) and terrestrial events (famine, war, death of the king) is the very foundation of astrology. Even if it is based on thousands of years of observations, astrology is not a science, in the modern sense of the term, since its foundation is indemonstrable and its practice subject to a thousand interpretations. It is therefore a symbolic knowledge, which rests on the belief that there is a mysterious correlation between the macrocosm (the cosmos) and the microcosm (society, the individual). In distant Antiquity, its success was due to the need of empires to discern and predict by relying on a higher order, the cosmos. Reading the signs of the sky made it possible to understand the warnings sent by the gods. From a political and religious reading, astrology would evolve over the centuries towards a more individualized and secular reading. In Rome, at the beginning of our era, people would consult an astrologer to find out if a particular medical operation or professional project was appropriate. The modern revival of astrology further reveals the need to know oneself through a symbolic tool, the astral chart, which is supposed to reveal the character of the individual and the broad outlines of their destiny. The original religious belief is evacuated, but not that in destiny, since the individual is supposed to be born at a precise moment when the celestial vault would manifest its potentialities. This law of universal correspondence, which thus makes it possible to connect the cosmos to man, is also the very substrate of what is called esotericism, a sort of multifaceted religious current parallel to the great religions, which has its roots in the West in Stoicism (the soul of the world), Neoplatonism and ancient Hermeticism. The modern need to connect with the cosmos participates in this desire for a "re-enchantment of the world", typical of post-modernity. When astronomy and astrology separated in the 17th century, most thinkers were convinced that astrological belief would disappear forever like an old wives' superstition. A dissenting voice was heard: that of Johannes Kepler, one of the founding fathers of modern astronomical science, who continued to draw astral charts, explaining that one should not seek to give a rational explanation to astrology, but should limit oneself to observing its practical effectiveness. Today, it is clear that astrology is not only experiencing a certain revival in the West, but continues to be practiced in most Asian societies, thus responding to a need as old as humanity: to find meaning and order in such an unpredictable and seemingly chaotic world. I would like to thank our friends Emmanuel Leroy Ladurie and Michel Cazenave very warmly for all they have contributed through their columns in our newspaper over the years. They are passing the baton to Rémi Brague and Alexandre Jollien, whom we are delighted to welcome. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yo3UMgqFmDs&feature=player_embedded [...]
Le Monde des religions No. 41, May-June 2010 — Because it is essential to all human existence, the question of happiness is at the heart of humanity's great philosophical and religious traditions. Its resurgence in Western societies at the beginning of the 21st century is due to the collapse of the great ideologies and political utopias that sought to bring happiness to humanity. Pure capitalism has failed as much as communism or nationalism as a collective system of meaning. This leaves personal quests, which allow individuals to attempt to lead a happy existence. Hence the renewed interest in ancient and Eastern philosophies, as well as the development in monotheistic religions of trends, such as the evangelical movement in the Christian world, which emphasize earthly happiness, and no longer only in the afterlife. Reading the many points of view expressed in this dossier by the great sages and spiritual masters of humanity, one feels a permanent tension, which transcends cultural diversity, between two conceptions of happiness. On the one hand, happiness is sought as a stable, definitive, absolute state. It is the Paradise promised in the afterlife, of which one can have a foretaste here below by leading a holy life. It is also the quest of Buddhist or Stoic sages, which aims to acquire lasting happiness here and now, beyond all the sufferings of this world. The paradox of such a quest is that it is theoretically offered to all, but it requires an asceticism and a renunciation of ordinary pleasures that very few individuals are ready to experience. At the other extreme, happiness is presented as random, necessarily temporary and, all things considered, quite unfair since it depends a lot on each person's character: as Schopenhauer reminds us, following Aristotle, happiness lies in the fulfillment of our potential and there is in fact a radical inequality in the temperament of each individual. Happiness, as its etymology signifies, therefore owes to luck: "good hour". And the Greek word eudaimonia refers to having a good daimon. But beyond this diversity of points of view, something is heard among many sages of all schools, to which I fully subscribe: happiness has above all to do with a just love of oneself and of life. A life that one accepts as it presents itself, with its share of joys and sadness, trying to push back unhappiness as much as possible, but without an overwhelming fantasy of absolute happiness. A life that we love by starting by accepting and loving ourselves as we are, in a "friendship" for ourselves as Montaigne advocated. A life that must be approached with flexibility, in the accompaniment of its permanent movement, like breathing, as Chinese wisdom reminds us. The best way to be as happy as possible is to say "yes" to life. Watch the video: Save Save Save Save [...]
Le Monde des religions No. 40, March-April 2010 — Benedict XVI's decision to continue the beatification process for Pope Pius XII has sparked a vast controversy, dividing both the Jewish and Christian worlds. The president of Rome's rabbinical community boycotted the Pope's visit to the Great Synagogue of Rome to protest Pius XII's "passive" attitude toward the tragedy of the Holocaust. Benedict XVI once again justified the decision to canonize his predecessor, arguing that he could not condemn more openly the atrocities committed by the Nazi regime without running the risk of reprisals against Catholics, of whom the Jews, many of whom were hidden in convents, would have been the first victims. The argument is entirely valid. The historian Léon Poliakov had already pointed this out in 1951, in the first edition of the Breviary of Hatred, the Third Reich and the Jews: "It is painful to note that throughout the war, while the factories of death were running at full tilt, the papacy remained silent. It must be recognized, however, that as experience has shown at the local level, public protests could be immediately followed by merciless sanctions." Pius XII, a good diplomat, tried to keep both sides happy: he secretly supported the Jews, directly saving the lives of thousands of Roman Jews after the German occupation of Northern Italy, while avoiding a direct condemnation of the Holocaust, so as not to break off all dialogue with the Nazi regime and avoid a brutal reaction. This attitude can be described as responsible, rational, prudent, even wise. But it is not prophetic and does not reflect the actions of a saint. Jesus died on the cross for having remained faithful to the end to his message of love and truth. Following him, the apostles Peter and Paul gave their lives because they did not renounce proclaiming the message of Christ or adjusting it to circumstances for "diplomatic reasons." Imagine if they had been popes in the place of Pius XII? It is hard to imagine them coming to terms with the Nazi regime, but rather deciding to die deported with those millions of innocents. This is the act of holiness, of prophetic significance that, in such tragic circumstances of history, one could expect from the successor of Peter. A pope who gives his life and says to Hitler: "I prefer to die with my Jewish brothers rather than condone this abomination." Certainly, the reprisals would have been terrible for Catholics, but the church would have sent a message of unprecedented force to the entire world. The first Christians were saints because they put their faith and love of neighbor above their own lives. Pius XII will be canonized because he was a pious man, a good manager of the Roman Curia, and a shrewd diplomat. This is the whole gap that exists between the Church of the Martyrs and the post-Constantinian Church, more concerned with preserving its political clout than with bearing witness to the Gospel. Save Save [...]
Le Monde des religions No. 39, January-February 2010 — Nearly four centuries after Galileo's condemnation, the public debate on the subject of science and religion still seems polarized by two extremes. On the one hand, the creationist delusion, which seeks to deny certain essential scientific findings in the name of a fundamentalist reading of the Bible. On the other, the media coverage of works by certain scientists, such as Richard Dawkins (The End of God, Robert Laffont, 2008), who seek to prove the non-existence of God using scientific arguments. However, these positions are fairly marginal in both camps. In the West, a large majority of believers accept the legitimacy of science, and most scientists affirm that science will never be able to prove the existence or non-existence of God. Basically, and to borrow an expression from Galileo himself, it is accepted that science and religion answer two questions of a radically different order, which cannot come into conflict: "The intention of the Holy Spirit is to teach us how we should go to heaven, and not how heaven is." In the 18th century, Kant recalled the distinction between faith and reason, and the impossibility for pure reason to answer the question of the existence of God. Born in the second half of the 19th century, scientism would nevertheless become a true "religion of reason," repeatedly announcing the death of God thanks to the victories of science. Richard Dawkins is one of its latest avatars. Creationism was also born in the second half of the 19th century, in reaction to the Darwinian theory of evolution. Its fundamentalist biblical version was succeeded by a much softer version, which admits the theory of evolution, but which intends to prove the existence of God through science through the theory of intelligent design. A more audible thesis, but one that falls back into the rut of confusion between the scientific and religious approaches. If we accept this distinction of knowledge, which seems to me to be a fundamental achievement of philosophical thought, must we therefore affirm that no dialogue is possible between science and religion? And more broadly, between a scientific vision and a spiritual conception of man and the world? The dossier in this issue gives voice to internationally renowned scientists who are calling for such a dialogue. Indeed, it is not so much religious people as scientists who are increasingly numerous in advocating a new dialogue between science and spirituality. This is largely due to the evolution of science itself over the last century. From the study of the infinitely small (subatomic world), the theories of quantum mechanics have shown that material reality is much more complex, profound, and mysterious than could be imagined according to the models of classical physics inherited from Newton. At the other extreme, that of the infinitely large, discoveries in astrophysics on the origins of the universe, and in particular the Big Bang theory, have swept away the theories of an eternal and static universe, on which many scientists relied to assert the impossibility of a creative principle. To a lesser extent, research on the evolution of life and on consciousness today tends to relativize the scientistic visions of "chance that explains everything" and "neuronal man." In the first part of this dossier, scientists share both the facts - what has changed in science over the past century - and their own philosophical opinion: why science and spirituality can dialogue fruitfully while respecting their respective methods. Going even further, other researchers, including two Nobel laureates, then provide their own testimony as scientists and believers, and state the reasons that make them think that science and religion, far from opposing each other, tend rather to converge. The third part of the dossier gives the floor to philosophers: what do they think of this new scientific paradigm and the discourse of these researchers who advocate a new dialogue, even a convergence, between science and spirituality? What are the perspectives and methodological limits of such a dialogue? Beyond sterile and emotional polemics, or, conversely, superficial rapprochements, these are questions and debates that seem to me essential to a better understanding of the world and of ourselves. Save Save [...]
Le Monde des religions, November-December 2009 — Religions are frightening. Today, the religious dimension is present, to varying degrees, in most armed conflicts. Without even mentioning war, controversies surrounding religious issues are among the most violent in Western countries. Certainly, religion divides people more than it unites them. Why? From the very beginning, religion has had a dual dimension of connection. Vertically, it creates a link between people and a higher principle, whatever name we give it: spirit, god, the Absolute. This is its mystical dimension. Horizontally, it brings together human beings, who feel united by this common belief in this invisible transcendence. This is its political dimension. This is well expressed by the Latin etymology of the word "religion": religere, "to connect." A human group is united by shared beliefs, and these are all the stronger, as Régis Debray has so aptly explained, because they refer to an absent, an invisible force. Religion therefore takes on a prominent identity dimension: each individual feels they belong to a group through this religious dimension, which also constitutes an important part of their personal identity. Everything is fine when all individuals share the same beliefs. Violence begins when certain individuals deviate from the common norm: it is the eternal persecution of "heretics" and "infidels," who threaten the social cohesion of the group. Violence is also exercised, of course, outside the community, against other cities, groups, or nations that have other beliefs. And even when political power is separated from religious power, religion is often instrumentalized by politics because of its mobilizing identity dimension. We remember Saddam Hussein, a non-believer and leader of a secular state, calling for jihad to fight against "Jewish and Christian crusaders" during the two Gulf Wars. The survey we conducted in Israeli settlements provides another example. In a rapidly globalizing world, arousing fear and rejection, religion is experiencing a resurgence of identity everywhere. We fear the other, we withdraw into ourselves and our cultural roots, secreting intolerance. Yet there is a completely different attitude possible for believers: to remain faithful to their roots, while being able to open up and dialogue with others in their differences. To refuse to allow religion to be used by politicians for warlike ends. To return to the vertical foundations of each religion, which advocates values of respect for others, peace, and welcoming strangers. To experience religion in its spiritual dimension more than its identity dimension. By drawing on this common heritage of spiritual and humanist values rather than on the diversity of cultures and the dogmas that divide them, religions can play a peacemaking role on a global level. We are still a long way from that, but many individuals and groups are working in this direction: it is also useful to remember this. If, to borrow Péguy's phrase, "everything begins in mysticism and ends in politics," it is not impossible for believers to work towards the construction of a peaceful global political space, through the common mystical foundation of religions: the primacy of love, mercy, and forgiveness. That is to say, to work towards the advent of a fraternal world. Religions therefore do not seem to me to constitute an irreversible obstacle to such a project, which is in line with that of humanists, whether they are believers, atheists, or agnostics. [...]
Le Monde des religions, September-October 2009 — France is the European country with the largest Muslim population. However, the rapid development of Islam in the land of Pascal and Descartes over the past few decades has raised fears and questions. Let's not even mention the fantastical discourse of the extreme right, which attempts to stir up these fears by prophesying an upheaval in French society under the "pressure of a religion destined to become the majority." More seriously, some concerns are entirely legitimate: how can we reconcile our secular tradition, which relegates religion to the private sphere, with new religious demands specific to schools, hospitals, and public places? How can we reconcile our vision of an emancipated woman with the rise of a religion with strong symbols of identity, such as the famous headscarf—not to mention the full-face veil—which evoke for us the submission of women to male power? There is indeed a cultural clash and a conflict of values that it would be dangerous to deny. But questioning, or expressing criticism, does not necessarily mean transmitting prejudices and stigmatizing in a defensive attitude, driven by fear of the other and their difference. This is why Le Monde des Religions wanted to devote a large, exceptional 36-page dossier to French Muslims and the question of Islam in France. This question has been posed concretely for two centuries with the arrival of the first emigrants and has even been rooted in our imagination for more than twelve centuries with the wars against the Saracens and the famous Battle of Poitiers. It is therefore necessary to take a historical look at the question to better appreciate the fears, prejudices and value judgments that we have about the religion of Mohammed (and not "Mahomet", as the media write, without knowing that it is a Turkish-speaking name for the Prophet inherited from the fight against the Ottoman Empire). We then attempted to explore the galaxy of French Muslims through reports on five large, very diverse (and not exclusive) groups: former Algerian immigrants who came to work in France from 1945; young French Muslims who put their religious identity first; those who, while assuming a Muslim identity, intend first to examine it through the sieve of critical reason and the humanist values inherited from the Enlightenment; those who have distanced themselves from Islam as a religion; and finally those who are part of the fundamentalist Salafist movement. This mosaic of identities reveals the extreme complexity of a highly emotional and politically very sensitive issue, to the point that the public authorities refuse to use religious and ethnic affiliations for censuses, which would allow us to better understand French Muslims and know their number. We therefore felt it would be useful to conclude this issue with articles deciphering the relationship between Islam and the Republic, or the issue of "Islamophobia," and to give a voice to several academics with a detached view. Islam is the second largest religion in humanity in terms of the number of followers after Christianity. It is also the second largest religion in France, far behind Catholicism, but far ahead of Protestantism, Judaism, and Buddhism. Whatever one's opinion of this religion, it is a fact. One of the greatest challenges facing our society is to work towards the best possible harmonization of Islam with French cultural and political tradition. This cannot be achieved, for Muslims as well as for non-Muslims, in a climate of ignorance, mistrust, or aggression... [...]
Le Monde des religions, July-August 2009 — We are plunged into an economic crisis of rare magnitude, which should call into question our development model, based on permanent growth in production and consumption. The word "crisis" in Greek means "decision," "judgment," and refers to the idea of a pivotal moment when "things must be decided." We are going through a crucial period where fundamental choices must be made, otherwise the problem will only get worse, cyclically perhaps, but surely. As Jacques Attali and André Comte-Sponville remind us in the fascinating dialogue they granted us, these choices must be political, starting with a necessary clean-up and more effective and fairer supervision of the aberrant financial system in which we live today. They can also concern all citizens more directly, by redirecting demand toward the purchase of more ecological and more inclusive goods. A lasting way out of the crisis will certainly depend on a true determination to change the rules of the financial game and our consumption habits. But this will probably not be enough. It is our lifestyles, based on constant growth in consumption, that will have to change. Since the industrial revolution, and even more so since the 1960s, we have been living in a civilization that makes consumption the driving force of progress. This driving force is not only economic, but also ideological: progress means owning more. Omnipresent in our lives, advertising only serves to reaffirm this belief in all its forms. Can we be happy without having the latest car? The latest model of DVD player or cell phone? A television and computer in every room? This ideology is almost never questioned: as long as it's possible, why not? And most people across the planet today are eyeing this Western model, which makes the possession, accumulation, and constant change of material goods the ultimate meaning of existence. When this model seizes up, when the system derails; when it appears that we will probably not be able to continue to consume indefinitely at this frenetic pace, that the planet's resources are limited and that it becomes urgent to share; we can finally ask ourselves the right questions. We can question the meaning of the economy, the value of money, the real conditions for the balance of a society and individual happiness. In this, I believe that the crisis can and must have a positive impact. It can help us rebuild our civilization, which has become global for the first time, on criteria other than money and consumption. This crisis is not simply economic and financial, but also philosophical and spiritual. It refers to universal questions: what can be considered true progress? Can human beings be happy and live in harmony with others in a civilization entirely built around an ideal of having? Probably not. Money and the acquisition of material goods are only means, certainly precious, but never an end in themselves. The desire for possession is, by nature, insatiable. And it engenders frustration and violence. Human beings are so made that they constantly desire to possess what they do not have, even if it means taking it by force from their neighbor. However, once their essential material needs are met—to eat, have a roof over their heads, and have enough to live decently—man needs to enter into a logic other than that of having in order to be satisfied and become fully human: that of being. They must learn to know and control themselves, to understand and respect the world around them. They must discover how to love, how to live with others, manage their frustrations, acquire serenity, overcome the inevitable sufferings of life, but also prepare to die with their eyes open. For if existence is a fact, living is an art. An art that is learned by questioning the wise and working on oneself. [...]
Le Monde des religions, May-June 2009 — The excommunication pronounced by the Archbishop of Recife against the mother and medical team who performed an abortion on the 9-year-old Brazilian girl, who was raped and pregnant with twins, has sparked an outcry in the Catholic world. Many faithful, priests, and even bishops have expressed their indignation at this disciplinary measure, which they consider excessive and inappropriate. I too reacted strongly, emphasizing the flagrant contradiction between this brutal and dogmatic condemnation and the Gospel message, which advocates mercy, attention to people, and transcending the law through love. Once the emotion has subsided, it seems important to me to return to this affair, not to add to the indignation, but to try to analyze with perspective the fundamental problem it reveals for the Catholic Church. Faced with the emotion aroused by this decision, the Brazilian Episcopal Conference attempted to minimize this excommunication and to exempt the girl's mother from it, under the pretext that she had been influenced by the medical team. But Cardinal Batista Re, Prefect of the Congregation for Bishops, was much clearer, explaining that the Archbishop of Recife was ultimately only recalling canon law. This law stipulates that anyone who performs an abortion places themselves de facto outside the communion of the Church: "Whoever procures an abortion, if the effect follows, incurs excommunication latae sententiae" (Canon 1398). No one needs to officially excommunicate him: he has excommunicated himself by his act. Certainly, the Archbishop of Recife could have avoided adding to the hype by loudly recalling canon law, thus provoking a worldwide controversy, but this in no way resolves the fundamental problem that has scandalized so many of the faithful: how can a Christian law—which, moreover, does not consider rape to be an act sufficiently serious to justify excommunication—condemn people who try to save the life of a raped little girl by having her have an abortion? It is normal for a religion to have rules, principles, values, and to strive to defend them. It is understandable, in this case, that Catholicism, like all religions, is hostile to abortion. But should this prohibition be enshrined in an inviolable law, which provides for automatic disciplinary measures, ignoring the diversity of concrete cases? In this, the Catholic Church distinguishes itself from other religions and other Christian denominations, which have no equivalent to canon law, inherited from Roman law, and its disciplinary measures. They condemn certain acts in principle, but they also know how to adapt to each particular situation and consider that transgression of the norm sometimes constitutes a "lesser evil." This is so evident in the case of this Brazilian girl. Abbé Pierre said the same thing about AIDS: it is better to fight the risk of transmitting the disease through chastity and fidelity, but for those who cannot do so, it is better to use a condom than to transmit death. And it must also be remembered, as several French bishops have done, that the pastors of the church practice this theology of the "lesser evil" on a daily basis, adapting to particular cases and accompanying people in difficulty with mercy, which often leads them to break the rule. In doing so, they are only implementing the Gospel message: Jesus condemns adultery in itself, but not the woman caught in the act of adultery, whom the zealots of religious law want to stone, and to whom he addresses these words without appeal: "Let he who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her" (John 8). Can a Christian community that intends to be faithful to the message of its founder, as well as to remain audible in a world increasingly sensitive to the suffering and complexity of each individual, continue to apply disciplinary measures in this way without discernment? Should it not recall, at the same time as the ideal and the norm, the need to adapt to each specific case? And above all, bear witness that love is stronger than the law? [...]
Le Monde des religions, March-April 2009 — The crisis triggered by Benedict XVI's decision to lift the excommunication imposed on the four bishops ordained by Archbishop Lefebvre in 1988 is far from over. No one can blame the Pope for doing his job by attempting to reintegrate schismatics who request it into the Church's fold. The trouble comes from elsewhere. There was, of course, the collision of this announcement with the publication of the odious Holocaust-denying remarks of one of them, Archbishop Williamson. The fact that the Roman Curia did not see fit to inform the Pope of this extremist's positions, known to informed circles since November 2008, is already not a good sign. The fact that Benedict XVI did not attach to the lifting of the excommunication (published on January 24) a condition of an immediate request for the retraction of such statements (known to all on January 22), and that it took a week for the Pope to make a firm statement on the issue, is also worrying. Not that one can suspect him of collusion with fundamentalist anti-Semites – he reiterated very clearly on February 12 that “the Church is profoundly and irrevocably committed to the rejection of anti-Semitism” – but his procrastination gave the impression that he had made the reintegration of fundamentalists an absolute, almost blinding priority, refusing to see the extent to which most of these diehards are still locked into points of view totally opposed to the Church that emerged from the Second Vatican Council. By lifting the excommunication and initiating a process of integration that would give the Society of Saint Pius X a special status within the Church, the Pope no doubt believed that the last disciples of Archbishop Lefebvre would eventually change and accept the openness to the world advocated by the Second Vatican Council. The fundamentalists thought exactly the opposite. Bishop Tissier de Mallerais, one of the four bishops ordained by Archbishop Lefebvre, declared a few days after the lifting of the excommunication in an interview with the Italian newspaper La Stampa: "We will not change our positions, but we intend to convert Rome, that is, to bring the Vatican to our positions." » The same prelate stated six months earlier, in the American magazine The Angelus, that the priority of the Society of Saint Pius X was "our perseverance in rejecting the errors of the Second Vatican Council" and predicted the advent of "Islamic republics" in France, Great Britain, Germany, and the Netherlands; and in Rome, the end of Catholicism, an "organized apostasy with the Jewish religion." The Society of Saint Pius X is today on the verge of implosion, as positions diverge on the best strategy to adopt with regard to Rome. One thing is certain: most of these sectarian extremists do not intend to renounce what has founded their identity and their struggle for forty years: rejecting the principles of openness to the world, religious freedom, and dialogue with other religions advocated by the Council. How can the Pope, on the one hand, want to include these fanatics in the Church at all costs, and at the same time pursue dialogue with other Christian denominations and non-Christian religions? John Paul II had the lucidity to choose unambiguously, and it was, moreover, the meeting in Assisi, in 1986, with the other religions that was the final straw that prompted Archbishop Lefebvre to break with Rome. Since his election, Benedict XVI has multiplied his gestures towards the fundamentalists and continues to push back ecumenical and interreligious dialogue. It is understandable that there is great unease among the many Catholics, including bishops, who are attached to the spirit of dialogue and tolerance of a council which intended to break, once and for all, with the anti-modern spirit of intransigent Catholicism, which rejects secularism, ecumenism, freedom of conscience and human rights en bloc. To celebrate its fifth anniversary, Le Monde des Religions is offering you a new format, which changes the newspaper both in form (new layout, more illustrations) and in content: a more extensive file with bibliographical references, more philosophy under the leadership of André Comte-Sponville, a new railway – the “History” and “Spirituality” sections are replaced by the “Knowledge” and “Live Experience” sections – and new sections: “Interreligious Dialogue”, “24 Hours in the Life of…”, “3 Keys to Understanding the Thought of…”, “The Artist and the Sacred”; a new literary column by Leili Anvar; more pages devoted to cultural news related to religion (cinema, theater, exhibitions). [...]
Le Monde des religions, January-February 2009 — There are fewer common points than one might imagine between the various religions of the world. Above all, there is the famous golden rule, declined in a thousand ways: do not do to others what you would not have done to you. There is another, in flagrant contradiction with this principle, which is surprising in its antiquity, its permanence, and its near-universality: contempt for women. As if women were potential or failed human beings, certainly inferior to the male sex. The historical and textual elements that we provide in this issue's dossier to support this sad observation are all too eloquent. Why such contempt? Psychological motives are undoubtedly decisive. As Michel Cazenave reminds us, following the pioneers of psychoanalysis, men are both jealous of female pleasure and frightened by their own desire for women. Sexuality is undoubtedly at the heart of the problem, and Islamic males who only tolerate veiled women have nothing to envy the Fathers of the Church, who saw women only as potential temptresses. There are also socio-historical reasons for this degradation of women in almost all cultures, a degradation to which religions have contributed decisively. The very ancient cult of the "great goddess" testifies to a valorization of the feminine principle. The shamans of humanity's earliest religions are male or female, like the spirits they venerate, as evidenced by the oral societies that have survived to the present day. But a few millennia ago, when cities developed and the first kingdoms were formed, the need for social organization became apparent and a political and religious administration appeared. However, it was men who assumed the roles of government. The priests responsible for administering cults rushed to masculinize the pantheon, and the male gods, like what was happening on earth, took power in heaven. Monotheisms, in turn, only reproduced and sometimes even amplified this polytheistic pattern by giving the one god an exclusively masculine face. A great paradox of religions for millennia: so despised, women are often the true heart of them; they pray, transmit, and sympathize with the suffering of others. Today, mentalities are evolving thanks to the secularization of modern societies and the emancipation of women that it has fostered. Unfortunately, certain terrifying practices – these fifteen Afghan teenage girls recently doused with acid while walking to their school in Kandahar – as well as remarks from another age – such as those made by the Archbishop of Paris: "It is not enough to have skirts, you also have to have things in your head" – show that a long way remains to be covered before religious traditions finally recognize women as equal to men, and erase from their doctrines and practices these centuries-old traces of misogyny. [...]
Le Monde des religions, November-December 2008 — On the occasion of the 40th anniversary of the encyclical Humanae Vitae, Benedict XVI firmly reiterated the Catholic Church's opposition to contraception, with the exception of "the observation of the natural rhythms of a woman's fertility," when the couple is going through "grave circumstances," justifying birth spacing. These remarks naturally sparked a chorus of criticism, once again highlighting the gap between the Church's moral doctrine and the evolution of morals. This gap does not seem to me to constitute a justified criticism in itself. The Church is not a business that must sell its message at all costs. The fact that its discourse is out of step with the evolution of our societies can also be a salutary sign of resistance to the spirit of the times. The Pope is not there to bless the revolution of morals, but to defend certain truths in which he believes, even if it means losing the faithful. The real criticism that can be made of this condemnation of contraception concerns the argument that justifies it. Benedict XVI reminded us that excluding the possibility of giving life "by means of an action aimed at preventing procreation" amounts to "denying the intimate truth of conjugal love." By indissolubly linking the love of spouses to procreation, the magisterium of the Church remains in conformity with an old Catholic tradition dating back to Saint Augustine, who distrusts the flesh and carnal pleasure, and ultimately conceives of sexual relations only in the perspective of reproduction. On this account, can a sterile couple be in the truth of love? However, nothing in the Gospels corroborates such an interpretation and there exists in other Christian traditions, notably Eastern ones, a completely different view of love and human sexuality. There is therefore a fundamental theological problem here that deserves to be completely rethought, not because of the evolution of morals, but because of an eminently questionable vision of sexuality and the love of spouses. Not to mention, of course, the often dramatic social consequences that such a discourse can have in poor populations, where contraception is often the only effective means of combating increasing impoverishment. Religious figures themselves, such as Abbé Pierre and Sister Emmanuelle – a young centenarian to whom I wish a happy birthday! – had both written to John Paul II in this regard. It is undoubtedly for these profound reasons, and not only because of the revolution in morals, that many Catholics have deserted the churches since 1968. As Cardinal Etchegaray recently said, Humanae Vitae constituted in its time a "silent schism," so many of the faithful were shocked by the vision of married life conveyed by the papal encyclical. These disappointed Catholics are not libertine couples, advocating unbridled sexuality, but believers who love each other and who do not understand why the truth of their couple's love would be dissolved by a sexual life dissociated from the project of having a child. Apart from the most extremist fringes, no other Christian denomination and indeed no other religion hold such a view. Why is the Catholic Church still so afraid of carnal pleasure? It is understandable that the Church recalls the sacred character of the gift of life. But does not sexuality, experienced in authentic love, also constitute an experience of the sacred? [...]
Le Monde des religions, September-October 2008 — As its name indicates, the Declaration of Human Rights is intended to be universal, that is, it intends to rely on a natural and rational foundation that transcends all particular cultural considerations: regardless of their place of birth, their sex, or their religion, all human beings have the right to respect for their physical integrity, to freely express their beliefs, to live decently, to work, to be educated, and to receive medical care. This universalist vision, which was born in the 18th century in the wake of the European Enlightenment, has led some countries to express serious reservations about the universal nature of human rights for the past twenty years. These are mainly countries in Asia and Africa that were victims of colonization and that equate the universality of human rights with a colonialist stance: after imposing its political and economic domination, the West intends to impose its values on the rest of the world. These states rely on the notion of cultural diversity to defend the idea of a relativism of human rights. These vary according to the tradition or culture of each country. We can understand such reasoning, but we must not be fooled. It suits dictatorships terribly and allows the perpetuation of practices of domination of traditions over the individual: domination of women in a thousand forms (excision, death in cases of adultery, guardianship by the father or husband), early child labor, prohibition of changing religion, etc. Those who reject the universality of human rights have understood this well: it is indeed the emancipation of the individual with regard to the group that the application of these rights allows. Yet what individual does not aspire to respect for his physical and moral integrity? The interest of the collective is not always that of the individual and it is here that a fundamental choice of civilization is at stake. On the other hand, it is perfectly legitimate to criticize Western governments for not always putting into practice what they preach! The legitimacy of human rights would be infinitely stronger if democracies were exemplary. However, to take just one example, the way in which the American army treated Iraqi prisoners or those at Guantanamo (torture, lack of trials, rape, humiliation) has caused the West to lose all moral credit in the eyes of many populations to whom we lecture on human rights. We are criticized, and rightly so, that it was in the name of defending values such as democracy that the United States and its allies invaded Iraq, when only economic reasons mattered. We can also criticize our current Western societies for being excessively individualistic. The sense of the common good has largely disappeared, which poses problems of social cohesion. But between this defect and that of a society where the individual is totally subject to the authority of the group and tradition, who would really choose the latter? Respect for fundamental human rights seems to me to be an essential achievement and its universal aim legitimate. It then remains to find a harmonious application of these rights in cultures still deeply marked by tradition, particularly religious tradition, which is not always easy. However, upon closer examination, each culture possesses an endogenous foundation for human rights, if only through the famous golden rule, written by Confucius 2,500 years ago and inscribed in one way or another at the heart of all civilizations of humanity: "Do not do to others what you would not have done to yourself." [...]
Le Monde des religions, July-August 2008 — Occurring a few months before the Beijing Olympics, the riots last March in Tibet abruptly brought the Tibetan question back to the forefront of the international stage. Faced with public emotion, Western governments unanimously asked the Chinese government to renew dialogue with the Dalai Lama, who, against the wishes of most of his compatriots, is known to no longer demand independence for his country, but simply cultural autonomy within China. Hesitant contacts have been made, but all informed observers know that they have little chance of success. The current Chinese president, Hu Jintao, was governor of Tibet twenty years ago and so violently suppressed the riots of 1987-1989 that he has been dubbed the "Butcher of Lhasa." This earned him a significant rise within the party, but also left him with a deep-rooted resentment against the Tibetan leader, who received the Nobel Peace Prize that same year. The Chinese leadership's policy of demonizing the Dalai Lama and awaiting his death while pursuing a brutal colonization policy in Tibet is highly risky. Because, contrary to what they claim, the riots last March, like those of twenty years ago, were not the work of the Tibetan government in exile, but of young Tibetans who could no longer bear the oppression they were subjected to: imprisonment for crimes of opinion, a ban on speaking Tibetan in government offices, multiple restrictions on religious practice, economic favoritism in favor of Chinese settlers who were becoming more numerous than Tibetans, etc. Since the invasion of Tibet by the Chinese People's Army in 1950, this policy of violence and discrimination has only strengthened nationalist sentiment among Tibetans, who were once quite rebellious against the state and who lived their sense of belonging to Tibet more through the identity of a common language, culture, and religion than through a political sentiment of the nationalist type. Nearly sixty years of brutal colonization have only strengthened nationalist sentiment, and an overwhelming majority of Tibetans want to regain their country's independence. Only a figure as legitimate and charismatic as the Dalai Lama is able to make them swallow the pill of renouncing this legitimate demand and reach an agreement with the authorities in Beijing on a form of Tibetan cultural autonomy in a Chinese national space where the two peoples could try to coexist harmoniously. On March 22, thirty dissident Chinese intellectuals living in China published a courageous op-ed in the foreign press, emphasizing that the demonization of the Dalai Lama and the refusal to make any major concessions to Tibet were leading China into the dramatic impasse of permanent repression. This only reinforces anti-Chinese sentiment among the three major colonized peoples—Tibetans, Uighurs, and Mongols—called "minorities" by the communist authorities, who represent only 3% of the population but occupy nearly 50% of the territory. Let us express a pious hope that the Beijing Olympic Games will not be the Games of shame, but those that will allow the Chinese authorities to accelerate openness to the world and the values of respect for human rights, starting with the freedom of individuals and peoples to self-determination. [...]
Le Monde des religions, May-June 2008 — The last few months have been fertile in controversy over the highly sensitive issue of the Republic and religion in France. As we know, the French nation was built on a painful emancipation of politics from religion. From the French Revolution to the 1905 law of separation, the violence of the struggles between Catholics and Republicans left deep marks. Whereas, in other countries, religion played an important role in the construction of modern politics and where the separation of powers was never conflictual, French secularism has been a combative secularism. Fundamentally, I support Nicolas Sarkozy's idea of moving from a combative secularism to a peaceful secularism. But isn't that already the case? The President of the Republic is right to recall the importance of the Christian heritage and to insist on the positive role that religions can play, both in the private and public spheres. The problem is that his remarks went too far, which rightly provoked virulent reactions. In Rome (December 20), he pitted the priest against the teacher, an emblematic figure of the secular Republic, by asserting that the former is superior to the latter in transmitting values. The declaration in Riyadh (January 14) is even more problematic. Certainly, Nicolas Sarkozy rightly points out that "it is not religious sentiment that is dangerous, but its use for political ends." However, he makes a very surprising profession of faith: "The transcendent God who is in the thought and in the heart of every man. God who does not enslave man but liberates him." The Pope could not have said it better. Coming from the president of a secular nation, these words are surprising. Not that the man, Nicolas Sarkozy, does not have the right to think them. But delivered in an official context, they engage the nation and can only shock, even scandalize, all French people who do not share Mr. Sarkozy's spiritual opinions. In exercising his function, the President of the Republic must maintain neutrality with regard to religions: neither denigration nor apology. It will be retorted that American presidents do not hesitate to refer to God in their speeches, even though the American constitution separates political and religious powers as formally as ours. Certainly, but faith in God and in the messianic role of the American nation is part of the self-evident truths shared by the majority, and founds a sort of civil religion. In France, religion does not unite, it divides. As we know, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. With the noble intention of reconciling the Republic and religion, Nicolas Sarkozy risks, through clumsiness and overzeal, producing the exact opposite result of the one sought. Her colleague Emmanuelle Mignon made the same mistake with the equally sensitive issue of sects. Intending to break with a sometimes too blind policy of stigmatizing minority religious groups, a policy condemned by many lawyers and academics – I myself strongly criticized the 1995 parliamentary report and the aberrant list that accompanied it at the time – she goes too far in asserting that sects constitute "a non-problem." As a result, those she rightly criticizes have every right to point out, with just as much reason, that there are serious sectarian excesses that can in no way be considered a non-problem! For once, when the highest levels of government dare to address the religious issue in a new and uninhibited way, it is regrettable that overly strong or inappropriate positions make this language so inaudible and counterproductive. [...]
Le Monde des religions, March-April 2008 — Dear Régis Debray, In your column, which I invite the reader to read before going any further, you challenge me in a very stimulating way. Even if you somewhat caricature my thesis on Christianity, I fully admit a difference of point of view between us. You emphasize its collective and political character when I insist on the personal and spiritual character of its founder's message. I understand very well that you question the foundation of the social bond. In your political writings, you have convincingly shown that this always rests, in one way or another, on an "invisible," that is to say, some form of transcendence. The God of the Christians was this transcendence in Europe until the 18th century; deified reason and progress succeeded him, then the cult of the fatherland and the great political ideologies of the 20th century. After the sometimes tragic failure of all these secular religions, I am concerned, like you, about the place that money is taking as a new form of religion in our individualistic societies. But what can we do? Should we be nostalgic for Christianity, that is, for a society governed by the Christian religion, as there are societies today governed by the Muslim religion? Nostalgic for a society on the altar of which individual freedom and the right to differ in thought and religion were sacrificed? What I am convinced of is that this society, which bore the name "Christian" and which, moreover, built great things, was not truly faithful to the message of Jesus, who advocated, on the one hand, the separation of politics and religion, and insisted, on the other hand, on individual freedom and the dignity of the human person. I am not saying that Christ wanted to abolish all religion, with its rites and dogmas, as the cement of a society, but I wanted to show that the essence of his message tends to emancipate the individual from the group by insisting on his personal freedom, his inner truth and his absolute dignity. So much so that our most sacred modern values – those of human rights – are largely rooted in this message. Christ, like the Buddha before him, and unlike other founders of religions, is not primarily concerned with politics. He proposes a revolution in individual consciousness that is likely to lead, in the long term, to a change in collective consciousness. It is because individuals will be more just, more aware, more truthful, more loving, that societies will also eventually evolve. Jesus does not call for a political revolution, but for a personal conversion. To a religious logic based on obedience to tradition, he opposes a logic of individual responsibility. I grant you, this message is quite utopian and we are currently living in a certain chaos where the previous logics based on obedience to the sacred laws of the group no longer work and where few individuals are still engaged in a true process of love and responsibility. But who knows what will happen in a few centuries? I would add that this revolution of individual consciousness is in no way opposed to religious or political beliefs shared by the majority, nor to an institutionalization of the message, the inevitability of which you rightly point out. It may, however, set a limit to them: that of respect for the dignity of the human person. This, in my opinion, is the whole teaching of Christ, which in no way annuls religion, but frames it within three intangible principles: love, freedom, secularism. And it is a form of sacredness, it seems to me, which can today reconcile believers and non-believers. [...]
Le Monde des religions, January-February 2008 — The story takes place in Saudi Arabia. A 19-year-old married woman meets a childhood friend. The latter invites her into his car to give him a photo. Seven men arrive and kidnap them. They assault the man and rape the woman several times. The latter files a complaint. The rapists are sentenced to light prison terms, but the victim and her friend are also sentenced by the court to receive 90 lashes for being alone and in private with a person of the opposite sex who is not a member of their immediate family (this offense is called khilwa in Islamic law, Sharia). The young woman decides to appeal, hires a lawyer, and makes the case public. On November 14, the court increases her sentence to 200 lashes and additionally sentences her to six years in prison. An official at the Qatif General Court, which delivered the verdict on November 14, explained that the court had increased the woman's sentence because of "her attempt to inflame the situation and influence the judiciary through the media." The court also harassed her lawyer, barring him from handling the case and confiscating his professional license. Human Rights Watch and Amnesty International have taken up the case and are trying to intervene with King Abdullah to overturn the court's unfair decision. Perhaps they will succeed? But for one woman who had the courage to rebel and go public with her tragic story, how many others are raped without ever daring to file a complaint for fear of being accused themselves of seducing the rapist or of having sinful relations with a man who was not their husband? The situation of women in Saudi Arabia, as in Afghanistan, Pakistan, Iran, and other Muslim countries that strictly apply Sharia law, is intolerable. In the current international context, any criticism from Western NGOs or governments is perceived as unacceptable interference, not only by political and religious authorities, but also by a section of the population. The status of women in Muslim countries therefore has no chance of truly progressing unless public opinion in these countries also reacts. The case I have just described was widely publicized and caused a certain amount of emotion in Saudi Arabia. It is thus through the exceptional courage of certain women who are victims of injustice, but also of men sensitive to their cause, that things will change. Initially, these reformers can rely on tradition to show that there are other readings and other interpretations of the Quran and Sharia law, which give a better place to women and protect them more from the arbitrariness of a macho law. This is what happened in Morocco in 2004 with the reform of the family code, which constitutes considerable progress. But once this first step is assured, Muslim countries will not escape a more profound questioning, the true emancipation of women from a religious conception and law developed centuries ago within patriarchal societies that did not admit any equality between men and women. Secularism has allowed this extremely recent revolution in mentalities in the West. There is no doubt that the definitive emancipation of women in the land of Islam will also involve a total separation of religion and politics. [...]
Le Monde des religions, September-October 2007 — I was a little surprised by the avalanche of criticism, including within the Church, that the Pope's decision to reinstate the Latin Mass has provoked. I have pointed out Benedict XVI's ultra-reactionary policy in all areas enough over the past two years to resist the pleasure of rushing to his aid here! The Pope thus wants to bring Archbishop Lefebvre's lost sheep back to the fold, of course. But there is no opportunism on his part, because Cardinal Ratzinger has constantly reiterated for more than thirty years his unease with the implementation of the liturgical reform of Vatican II and his desire to give the faithful the choice between the new and the old rite inherited from Pope Pius V (who promulgated it in 1570). This will be done starting September 14. Why complain about a measure that offers, a rare occurrence, genuine freedom of choice to the faithful? Once the ancient ritual has been stripped of its hostile phrases towards Jews, which testified to the old foundation of Christian anti-Judaism that had persisted until the Second Vatican Council, I do not really see how the Mass of Pius V, said with the back to the faithful and in Latin, would constitute a terrible step backward for the Church. Three personal experiences, on the contrary, convince me of the justice of the Pope's decision. I was struck when I went to Taizé to discover that these thousands of young people from all over the world were singing in Latin! Brother Roger explained the reason to me at the time: given the diversity of languages spoken, Latin had established itself as the liturgical language that could be used by all. A similar experience in Calcutta, in a chapel of Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity, during the Mass celebrated for the many volunteers who came from all over the world: almost everyone could participate in the liturgy, because it was said in Latin and, visibly, the participants' childhood memories were still vivid. Latin, the universal liturgical language of the Catholic Church alongside masses in vernacular languages, why not? The last experience, lived during the sociological survey I conducted about ten years ago among dozens of French followers of Tibetan Buddhism: I was very surprised to hear from several of them that they appreciated Tibetan rites because they were performed in a language that was not their native tongue! They told me they found Sunday Mass in French poor and without mystery, while they felt the sacred in Tibetan practices. Tibetan served as Latin. Who knows: Benedict XVI may not only bring fundamentalists back into the fold of the Church (1). ... Founded in September 2003, Le Monde des Religions is celebrating its fourth anniversary. It's up to you to judge the quality of the newspaper. But the financial results are extremely positive. The magazine's circulation averaged 42,000 copies in 2004. It jumped to 57,000 copies in 2005 and continued its strong growth with an average circulation of 66,000 copies in 2006. According to the magazine Stratégies, Le Monde des Religions experienced the third strongest growth in the French press in 2006. This is an opportunity to thank you, dear readers, as well as all those who make the magazine, and to point out the redesign of the Forum pages, which are becoming more dynamic. I would also like to thank Jean-Marie Colombani, who left his position as director of the La Vie-Le Monde group this summer. Without him, Le Monde des Religions would never have seen the light of day. When he recruited me as editor-in-chief, he told me how important it seemed to him that a journal could exist that dealt with religion in a resolutely secular way. He continued to support us when the journal was still in deficit and always gave us complete freedom in our editorial choices. (1) See the debate on p. 17. [...]
The World of Religions, November-December 2007 — Mother Teresa doubted the existence of God. For decades, she had the impression that heaven was empty. This revelation was shocking. The fact seems astonishing given the constant references she made to God. However, doubt is not the negation of God—it is a questioning—and faith is not certainty. We confuse certainty with conviction. Certainty comes from indisputable tangible evidence (this cat is black) or from universal rational knowledge (laws of science). Faith is an individual and subjective conviction. For some believers, it is akin to a soft opinion or an uncriticized heritage, for others to a more or less strong inner conviction. But, in any case, it cannot be a tangible or rational certainty: no one will ever have certain proof of the existence of God. Believing is not knowing. Believers and non-believers will always have excellent arguments to explain whether God exists or does not exist: neither will ever prove anything. As Kant showed, the order of reason and that of faith are of a different nature. Atheism and faith are a matter of conviction, and more and more people in the West are calling themselves agnostic: they acknowledge that they have no definitive conviction on this question. Since it is based neither on tangible evidence (God is invisible) nor on objective knowledge, faith necessarily implies doubt. And what appears paradoxical, but is entirely logical, is that this doubt is proportionate to the intensity of the faith itself. A believer who adheres weakly to the existence of God will more rarely be overcome by doubts; neither his faith nor his doubts will turn his life upside down. Conversely, a believer who has experienced intense, luminous moments of faith, or even one who has staked his entire life on faith like Mother Teresa, will end up experiencing the absence of God as terribly painful. Doubt will become an existential test. This is what the great mystics, like Thérèse of Lisieux or John of the Cross, experience and describe when they speak of the "dark night" of the soul, where all interior lights are extinguished, leaving the believer in the most naked faith because he no longer has anything to rely on. John of the Cross explains that this is how God, by giving the impression of withdrawing, tests the heart of the faithful to lead him further on the path to the perfection of love. This is a good theological explanation. From a rational point of view external to faith, one can very well explain this crisis by the simple fact that the believer can never have certainties, objective knowledge, about what founds the object of his faith, and he necessarily comes to question himself. The intensity of his doubt will be in proportion to the existential importance of his faith. There are certainly very committed, very religious believers, who claim never to experience doubts: the fundamentalists. Better still, they make doubt a diabolical phenomenon. For them, to doubt is to fail, to betray, to sink into chaos. Because they wrongly erect faith as certainty, they internally and socially forbid themselves from doubting. The repression of doubt leads to all sorts of tensions: intolerance, ritual pointillism, doctrinal rigidity, demonization of unbelievers, fanaticism sometimes going as far as murderous violence. Fundamentalists of all religions are alike because they reject doubt, that dark side of faith, which is nevertheless its indispensable corollary. Mother Teresa acknowledged her doubts, however painful they were to experience and express, because her faith was driven by love. Fundamentalists will never welcome or admit their own, because their faith is founded on fear. And fear forbids doubt. PS: I am delighted with the arrival of Christian Bobin among our columnists. [...]
The World of Religions, July-August 2007 — After the anxiety of June 6, 2006 (666), here comes the euphoria of July 7, 2007 (777). Gambling merchants emphasize the symbolic importance of these dates, Hollywood has seized on the famous number of the beast of the Apocalypse (666), and mayors are surprisingly receiving a high number of marriage proposals for this famous July 7. But among the followers of the number 7, who really knows its symbolism? This number was imposed in distant antiquity as a sign of plenitude and perfection because of the seven planets then observable. It has retained in the Hebrew Bible this sense of accomplishment: on the seventh day, God rests after the six days of creation. In the Middle Ages, Christian theologians took up this meaning and emphasized that the number 7 manifests the alliance of heaven (the number 3) and earth (the number 4). From then on, people began to track down and interpret its presence in the Scriptures: the seven gifts of the Spirit, the seven words of Christ on the cross, the seven requests of the Our Father, the seven Churches of the Apocalypse, not to mention the seven angels, the seven trumpets, and the seven seals. Medieval scholasticism also strives to reduce everything to this perfect number: the seven virtues (the four cardinal virtues coming from man and the three theological virtues coming from God), the seven sacraments, the seven deadly sins, the seven circles of hell... The recent craze of a certain number of our contemporaries for the symbolism of numbers (one also thinks of the global success of the "riddles" of the Da Vinci Code or the success across the Atlantic of a cheap Kabbalah), is however no longer based on a religious culture that gave it meaning and coherence. It obviously most often boils down to a superstitious approach. However, does it not reflect a real need to reconnect with a symbolic thought, which has been evacuated from our modern societies since the triumph of scientism? Among the many definitions of man, one could say that he is the only animal capable of symbolization. The only one to seek in the world around him a hidden, deep meaning, which connects him to an inner or invisible world. The Greek etymology of the word "symbol", sumbolon, refers to an object that has been separated into several pieces and whose reunion offers a sign of recognition. Unlike the devil (diabolon) who divides, the symbol unites, associates. It responds to a need anchored in the psyche to connect the visible and the invisible, the exterior and the interior. This is why, from the dawn of humanity, the symbol appears as the manifestation par excellence of the depth of the human spirit and of religious feeling (religion, whose Latin etymology religare also means "to connect"). When prehistoric man places his dead on a cushion of flowers, he associates the symbol of the flower with the affection that connects him to them. When he places the corpses in the fetal position, with their heads facing east, he associates the symbolism of the fetus and that of the rising sun with rebirth, and thus manifests his belief, or his hope, in an afterlife. Following the German Romantics, Carl Gustav Jung showed that the soul of modern man is sick from the lack of myths and symbols. Certainly, modernity has invented new myths and new symbols – those of advertising, for example – but they do not respond to the aspirations for meaning, that is to say, the deep and universal ones, of our psyche. For the past thirty years, the return of astrology and esotericism, the global successes of works of fiction such as The Lord of the Rings, The Alchemist, Harry Potter or The Chronicles of Narnia, are signs of a need for a “re-enchantment of the world”. Human beings cannot, in fact, connect with the world and with life solely through their logical reason. He needs to connect with it also through his heart, his sensitivity, his intuition and his imagination. The symbol then becomes a gateway to the world and to himself. On the condition, however, that he makes a minimum effort of knowledge and rational discernment. For abandoning himself to magical thinking alone would, on the contrary, lock him into a totalitarianism of the imagination that could lead to a delirious interpretation of signs. [...]
Le Monde des religions, May-June 2007 — "Jesus Camp." This is the name of an edifying documentary about American evangelicals released on April 18 in French theaters. We follow the "faith formation" of children aged 8 to 12 from families belonging to the evangelical movement. They attend catechism classes given by a missionary, a Bush fan, whose words are chilling. The poor people would like to read Harry Potter, like their little friends, but the catechist formally forbids them, pointing out without laughing that wizards are the enemies of God and that "in the Old Testament, Harry Potter would have been put to death." The camera then captures a brief moment of happiness: a child of divorced parents mischievously confides to his neighbor that he was able to see the DVD of the latest installment... at his father's house! But the condemnation of the paper wizard's crimes is nothing compared to the brainwashing these children are subjected to at the summer camp. The entire American conservative agenda is covered, and in the worst taste: a visit from a cardboard President Bush whom they are made to greet as the new Messiah; a distribution of small plastic fetuses so that they realize the horror of abortion; a radical critique of Darwinian theories on the evolution of species... All this in a permanent atmosphere of carnival, applause and singing in languages. At the end of the documentary, the catechist is accused by a journalist of carrying out a veritable brainwashing of the children. The question does not shock her at all: "Yes," she replies, "but Muslims do exactly the same thing with their children." Islam is one of the obsessions of these pro-Bush evangelicals. A surprising scene closes the film: a little missionary girl, who must be 10 years old, approaches a group of black people in the street to ask them "where they think they will go after death." The answer leaves her speechless. "They're sure they're going to heaven... even though they're Muslims," she confides to her young mission buddy. "They must be Christians," he concludes after a moment of hesitation. These people are "evangelical" only in name. Their sectarian (we are the true chosen ones) and warlike (we are going to dominate the world to convert it) ideology is the antithesis of the message of the Gospels. We also end up being disgusted by their obsession with sin, especially sexual sin. We think that this insistence on condemning sex (before marriage, outside of marriage, between people of the same sex) must hide many repressed impulses. What just happened to Reverend Ted Haggard, the charismatic president of the National Evangelical Association of America, which has 30 million members, is the perfect illustration. We see him haranguing the children in the film. But what the film doesn't say, because the scandal came later, is that this herald of the fight against homosexuality was denounced a few months ago by a Denver prostitute as a particularly regular and perverse client. After denying the facts, the pastor finally acknowledged his homosexuality, "this filth" of which he has claimed to be a victim for years in a long letter sent to his followers to explain his resignation. This lying and hypocritical America, that of Bush, is frightening. However, we must avoid unfortunate confusions. True mirrors of the Afghan Taliban, these Christian fundamentalists locked in their poor certainties and their frightening intolerance do not represent all of the approximately 50 million American evangelicals, of whom it must be remembered that they were mostly hostile to the war in Iraq. Let us also be careful not to identify these God-crazed people with French evangelicals, who have been rooted in France for sometimes more than a century and who now number more than 350,000 in 1,850 places of worship. Their emotional fervor and their proselytism inspired by American megachurches can upset us. This is no reason to equate them with dangerous sects, as the public authorities have too easily done over the past ten years. But this documentary shows us that the certainty of "possessing the truth" can quickly tip people who are probably perfectly well-intentioned into hateful sectarianism. [...]
Le Monde des religions, March-April 2007 — Picked up and commented on by more than 200 media outlets, the CSA survey on French Catholics that we published in our last issue had a considerable impact and provoked numerous reactions in France and abroad. Even the Vatican, in the person of Cardinal Poupard, reacted, denouncing the "religious illiteracy" of the French. I would like to return to some of these reactions. Members of the Church have rightly pointed out that the spectacular drop in the number of French people declaring themselves Catholic (51% compared to 63% in the latest surveys) was mainly due to the wording of the question: "What is your religion, if you have one?" instead of the more commonly used formula: "To which religion do you belong?" The latter formulation refers more to a sense of sociological belonging: I am Catholic because I was baptized. The formulation we adopted seemed much more relevant for measuring personal adherence, also leaving more open the possibility of declaring oneself "without religion." It is quite obvious, as I constantly pointed out when publishing this survey, that there are more baptized people than people declaring themselves Catholic. A survey with a classic formulation would probably give different figures. But what is more interesting to know? The number of people who were raised Catholic or those who consider themselves Catholic today? The way in which the question is asked is not the only factor in the figures obtained. Henri Tincq reminds us that in 1994, the CSA institute asked, for a survey published in Le Monde, exactly the same question as for the survey published in 2007 in Le Monde des Religions: 67% of French people then said they were Catholic, which shows the significant erosion that has occurred in twelve years. Many Catholics – clergy and lay – have also felt discouraged by the decline of faith in France, expressed by a series of figures: among those who declare themselves Catholic, there remains only a minority of faithful truly committed to the faith. I cannot help but put this survey into perspective with the recent disappearance of two great believers, the Dominican Marie-Dominique Philippe and Abbé Pierre (1), who were true friends. These two Catholic personalities from such different backgrounds told me essentially the same thing: this collapse, over several centuries, of Catholicism as the dominant religion, can constitute a real opportunity for the Gospel message: we could rediscover it in a truer, more personal, more lived way. Better, in Abbé Pierre's eyes, to have few "believable believers" than a mass of lukewarm believers who contradict by their actions the force of the Christian message. Father Philippe believed that the Church, following Christ, must pass through the passion of Good Friday and the silent burial of Holy Saturday before experiencing the upheaval of Easter Sunday. These great believers were not overwhelmed by the decline of faith. On the contrary, they saw in it the possible seeds of a great renewal, a major spiritual event, putting an end to more than seventeen centuries of confusion between faith and politics that had distorted the message of Jesus: "This is my new commandment: love one another as I have loved you." As the theologian Urs von Balthazar said: "Only love is worthy of faith." This explains the fabulous popularity of Abbé Pierre and shows that the French, while not feeling Catholic, remain extraordinarily sensitive to the fundamental message of the Gospels. [...]
Le Monde des religions, January-February 2007 — "France, eldest daughter of the Church." Pronounced in 1896, Cardinal Langénieux's phrase refers to the historical reality of a country where Christianity was introduced in the 2nd century and which, from the 9th century onward, offered the model of a people living in unison around faith, symbols, and the Catholic liturgical calendar. What historians have called "Christendom." With the French Revolution, and then the 1905 separation of Church and State, France became a secular country, relegating religion to the private sphere. For multiple reasons (rural exodus, moral revolution, rise of individualism, etc.), Catholicism has continued to lose its influence on society ever since. This sharp erosion is first perceptible through the statistics of the Church of France, which show a constant decline in baptisms, marriages and the number of priests (see pp. 43-44). It is then seen through opinion surveys which highlight three markers: practice (the Mass), belief (in God) and belonging (identifying oneself as Catholic). For forty years, the most involving criterion of religiosity, regular practice, is the one which has declined most sharply, affecting only 10% of French people in 2006. Belief in God, which remained more or less stable until the end of the 1960s (around 75%), fell to 52% in 2006. The least involving criterion, that of belonging, which refers to a religious as much as a cultural dimension, remained very high until the beginning of the 1990s (around 80%). It has in turn experienced a spectacular decline over the past fifteen years, falling to 69% in 2000, 61% in 2005, and our survey reveals that it is now 51%. Surprised by this result, we asked the CSA institute to repeat the survey with a nationally representative sample of 2,012 people aged 18 and over. Same figure. This drop is partly explained by the fact that 5% of those surveyed refused to register on the list of religions proposed by the polling institutes (Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox, Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, no religion, etc.) and spontaneously answered "Christian." Contrary to the habit of forcibly reducing this percentage to the "Catholic" category, we have mentioned it as a separate category. It seems significant to us that people from a Catholic background reject this affiliation while still calling themselves Christian. In any case, fewer and fewer French people claim to be Catholic, and more and more say they have "no religion" (31%). Other religions, which are very much in the minority, remain more or less stable (4% Muslims, 3% Protestants, 1% Jews). Also very instructive is the survey conducted on the 51% of French people who declare themselves Catholic (see pp. 23 to 28), which shows how far the faithful are from dogma. Not only does one in two Catholics not believe or doubt the existence of God, but among those who say they do, only 18% believe in a personal God (which is nevertheless one of the foundations of Christianity), while 79% believe in a force or energy. The distance from the institution is even greater when it comes to questions related to morality or discipline: 81% are in favor of marriage for priests and 79% of the ordination of women. And only 7% consider the Catholic religion to be the only true religion. The Church's magisterium has therefore lost almost all authority over the faithful. Yet, 76% have a good opinion of the Church and 71% of Pope Benedict XVI. This very interesting paradox shows that French Catholics, who are becoming a minority in the population—and who certainly already perceive themselves as such—embrace the dominant values of our deeply secularized modern societies, but remain attached, like any minority, to their place of community identification: the Church and its main symbol, the Pope. Let us be clear: not only in its institutions, but also in its mentalities, France is no longer a Catholic country. It is a secular country in which Catholicism remains, and will undoubtedly remain for a very long time to come, the most important religion. A figure: what we perceive as the "small number" of regularly practicing Catholics is numerically equivalent to the entire French Jewish, Protestant and Muslim population (including non-believers and non-practising people). [...]
Le Monde des religions, November-December 2006 — Since the Muhammad cartoons affair, signs of tension have been multiplying between the West and Islam. I should rather say between part of the Western world and part of the Muslim world. But this series of crises raises the question: can we criticize Islam? Many Muslim leaders, and not just extremist fanatics, want criticism of religions to be prohibited by international law in the name of respect for beliefs. This attitude can be understood in the context of societies where religion encompasses everything and where the sacred is the supreme value. But Western societies have long since become secularized and have clearly separated the religious sphere from the political sphere. Within such a framework, the State guarantees freedom of conscience and expression for all citizens. Everyone is therefore free to criticize political parties as well as religions. This rule allows our democratic societies to remain societies of freedom. This is why, even if I disagree with Robert Redeker's comments against Islam, I will fight for his right to make them, and I denounce in the strongest possible terms the intellectual terrorism and death threats he is subjected to. Contrary to what Benedict XVI asserted, it was not its privileged relationship with Greek reason, nor even the peaceful discourse of its founder, that enabled Christianity to renounce violence. The violence exercised by the Christian religion for centuries—including during the golden age of Thomistic rational theology—only ceased when the secular state imposed itself. There is therefore no other way out for an Islam that intends to integrate the modern values of pluralism and individual freedom than to accept this secularism and these rules of the game. As we explained in our last issue on the Quran, this implies a critical rereading of textual sources and traditional law, which many Muslim intellectuals do. On secularism and freedom of expression, we must therefore be unambiguous. It would also ruin the wishes and efforts of all Muslims who, throughout the world, aspire to live in a space of freedom and secularism to give in to the blackmail of fundamentalists. That being said, and with the utmost firmness, I am also convinced that we must adopt a responsible attitude and make reasonable statements about Islam. In the current context, insults, provocations, and approximations only serve to please their authors and make the task of moderate Muslims even more complicated. When we launch into a gut-wrenching, unsubstantiated critique or a violent diatribe against Islam, we are sure to provoke an even more violent reaction from extremists. We can then conclude: "You see, I was right." Except that for every 3 fanatics who respond in this way, there are 97 Muslims living their faith peacefully or simply attached to their culture of origin, who are doubly hurt by these remarks and by the reaction of extremists giving a disastrous image of their religion. To help Islam modernize, a critical, rational, and respectful dialogue is worth a hundred times more than invective and caricatured remarks. I would add that the practice of amalgamation is just as damaging. The sources of Islam are diverse, the Quran itself is plural, there are countless interpretations throughout history, and today's Muslims are just as diverse in their relationship to religion. Let us therefore avoid reductive amalgamations. Our world has become a village. We must learn to live together with our differences. Let us speak, on both sides, with a view to building bridges, not the current trend of building walls. [...]
Le Monde des religions, September-October 2006 — The Gospel of Judas was the international bestseller of the summer(1). An extraordinary fate for this Coptic papyrus, rescued from the sands after seventeen centuries of oblivion and whose existence was previously only known through Saint Irenaeus's work Against Heresies (180). It is therefore an important archaeological discovery(2). However, it does not provide any revelation about the last moments of Jesus' life, and there is little chance that this little book will "strongly stir the Church," as the publisher proclaims on the back cover. Firstly, because the author of this text, written in the middle of the second century, was not Judas, but a Gnostic group that attributed the authorship of the story to the apostle of Christ to give it more meaning and authority (a common practice in Antiquity). Then because, since the discovery of Nag Hammadi (1945), which allowed the updating of a veritable Gnostic library including numerous apocryphal gospels, we know much more about Christian Gnosticism, and, ultimately, The Gospel of Judas does not shed any new light on the thought of this esoteric movement. Isn't its resounding success, perfectly orchestrated by National Geographic, which bought the world rights, simply due to its extraordinary title: "The Gospel of Judas"? A striking, unthinkable, subversive combination of words. The idea that the one whom the four canonical Gospels and Christian tradition have presented for two thousand years as "the traitor", "the villain", "the henchman of Satan" who sold Jesus for a handful of money, could have written a gospel is intriguing. That he wanted to tell his version of events in an attempt to lift the stigma that weighs on him is as wonderfully romantic as the fact that this lost gospel has been found after so many centuries of oblivion. In short, even if one knows nothing about the contents of this little book, one cannot help but be fascinated by such a title. This is all the more so, as the success of The Da Vinci Code has clearly revealed, given that our era doubts the official discourse of religious institutions on the origins of Christianity and that the figure of Judas, like those of the long list of victims or defeated adversaries of the Catholic Church, is rehabilitated by contemporary art and literature. Judas is a modern hero, a moving and sincere man, a disappointed friend who, deep down, was the instrument of divine will. For how could Christ have accomplished his work of universal salvation if he had not been betrayed by this unfortunate man? The Gospel attributed to Judas attempts to resolve this paradox by having Jesus explicitly say that Judas is the greatest of the apostles, because he is the one who will allow his death: "But you will surpass them all! For you will sacrifice the man who serves as my fleshly envelope" (56). This word sums up Gnostic thought well: the world, matter, the body are the work of an evil god (that of the Jews and of the Old Testament); the goal of spiritual life consists, through secret initiation, in the rare elect who possess an immortal divine soul, issued from the good and unknowable God, being able to free it from the prison of their body. It is quite amusing to note that our contemporaries, who are fond of tolerance, rather materialistic and who reproach Christianity for its contempt for the flesh, are infatuated with a text from a movement that was condemned in its time by the authorities of the Church for its sectarianism and because it considered the material universe and the physical body to be an abomination. 1. The Gospel of Judas, translation and commentary by R. Kasser, M. Meyer and G. Wurst, Flammarion, 2006, 221 p., €15. 2. See Le Monde des Religions, no. 18. [...]
Le Monde des religions, July-August 2006 — One of the main reasons for Buddhism's appeal in the West is the charismatic personality of the Dalai Lama and his discourse, which focuses on fundamental values such as tolerance, non-violence, and compassion. A discourse that fascinates by its lack of proselytizing, to which we are not accustomed from monotheisms: "Do not convert, remain in your religion," says the Tibetan master. Is this a facade, ultimately intended to seduce Westerners? I have often been asked this question. I answer it by recounting an experience I had that deeply moved me. It was a few years ago in Dharamsala, India. The Dalai Lama had arranged to meet me for the purposes of a book. A one-hour meeting. The day before, at the hotel, I met an English Buddhist, Peter, and his 11-year-old son Jack. Peter's wife had died a few months earlier, after a long illness and great suffering. Jack had expressed a desire to meet the Dalai Lama. Peter therefore wrote to him and obtained a five-minute meeting, the time for a blessing. Both father and son were delighted. The next day, I met the Dalai Lama; Peter and Jack were received just after me. I expected them to return to the hotel very quickly; they didn't arrive until the end of the day, completely overwhelmed. Their meeting lasted two hours. This is what Peter told me: "I first told the Dalai Lama about my wife's death, and I burst into tears. He took me in his arms, accompanied me for a long time in these tears, accompanied my son, and spoke to him. Then he asked me my religion: I told him my Jewish origins and the deportation of my family to Auschwitz, which I had repressed. A deep wound awoke within me, emotion overwhelmed me, and I cried again. The Dalai Lama took me in his arms. I felt his tears of compassion: he was crying with me, as much as I was. I remained in his arms for a long time. I then spoke to him about my spiritual journey: my lack of interest in the Jewish religion, my discovery of Jesus through reading the Gospels, my conversion to Christianity, which twenty years ago was the great light of my life. Then my disappointment at not finding the strength of Jesus' message in the Anglican Church, my gradual distancing, my deep need for a spirituality that helps me live, and my discovery of Buddhism, which I have practiced for several years, in its Tibetan version. When I finished, the Dalai Lama remained silent. Then he turned to his secretary and spoke to him in Tibetan. The latter left and returned with an icon of Jesus. I was amazed. The Dalai Lama gave it to me, saying, “Buddha is my way, Jesus is your way.” I burst into tears for the third time. I suddenly rediscovered all the love I had for Jesus when I converted twenty years earlier. I understood that I had remained a Christian. I was looking for a support for meditation in Buddhism, but deep down, nothing moved me more than the person of Jesus. In less than two hours, the Dalai Lama reconciled me with myself and healed deep wounds. As he left, he promised Jack that he would see him every time he came to England. I will never forget this meeting and the transformed faces of this father and his son, which revealed to me the extent to which the Dalai Lama’s compassion is not an empty word and that it has nothing to envy of that of Christian saints. The World of Religions, July-August 2006. [...]
Le Monde des religions, May-June 2006 — After the novel, the film. The French release of The Da Vinci Code on May 17th is sure to revive speculation about the reasons for the worldwide success of Dan Brown's novel. The question is interesting, perhaps even more so than the novel itself. Because fans of historical thrillers—and I am one of them—are fairly unanimous: The Da Vinci Code is not an excellent vintage. Constructed like a page-turner, one is certainly hooked from the first pages, and the first two-thirds of the book are devoured with pleasure, despite the hasty style and the lack of credibility and psychological depth of the characters. Then the plot runs out of steam, before collapsing into an "abracadabra" ending. The more than 40 million copies sold and the incredible passion this book arouses in many of its readers are therefore more a matter of sociological explanation than literary analysis. I always thought that the key to this craze lay in the short preface by the American writer, who specifies that his novel is based on certain real facts, including the existence of Opus Dei (which is known to everyone) and the famous Priory of Sion, this secret society which was supposedly founded in Jerusalem in 1099 and of which Leonardo da Vinci was supposedly the grand master. Better still: "parchments" deposited in the National Library supposedly prove the existence of this famous priory. The entire plot of the novel rests on this occult brotherhood which supposedly preserved an explosive secret that the Church has tried to conceal since the beginning: the marriage of Jesus and Mary Magdalene and the central place of women in the early Church. This thesis is nothing new. But Dan Brown has managed to bring it out of feminist and esoteric circles and offer it to the general public in the form of a mystery thriller that claims to be based on historical facts unknown to almost everyone. The process is clever, but misleading. The Priory of Sion was founded in 1956 by Pierre Plantard, an anti-Semitic mythomaniac who believed himself to be a descendant of the Merovingian kings. As for the famous "parchments" deposited at the National Library, they are in fact vulgar typewritten sheets written in the late 1960s by this same character and his acolytes. The fact remains that for millions of readers, and perhaps soon viewers, The Da Vinci Code constitutes a true revelation: that of the central place of women in early Christianity and the conspiracy put in place by the Church in the 4th century to restore power to men. Conspiracy theory, as detestable as it may be—think of the famous Protocols of the Elders of Zion—unfortunately, it still works well in the minds of a public increasingly suspicious of official institutions, both religious and academic. But as erroneous as it may be in its historical demonstration and questionable under its conspiratorial packaging, the thesis of the machismo of the Church is all the more seductive because it is also based on an undeniable observation: only men have power in the Catholic institution and, since Paul and Augustine, sexuality has been devalued. It is therefore understandable that many Christians, most often religiously desocialized, have allowed themselves to be seduced by Dan Brown's iconoclastic thesis and are embarking on this new quest for the Grail of modern times: the rediscovery of Mary Magdalene and the rightful place of sexuality and the feminine in the Christian religion. Once the Brownian nonsense is put aside, after all, isn't it a fine quest? Le Monde des religions, May-June 2006. [...]
Le Monde des Religions, March-April 2006 — Can we laugh at religions? At Le Monde des Religions, where we are constantly confronted with this question, we answer yes, a hundred times yes. Religious beliefs and behaviors are not above humor, they are not above laughter and critical caricature, and so we chose from the outset, without hesitation, to introduce humorous cartoons into this magazine. Safeguards exist to contain the most serious excesses: laws condemning racism and anti-Semitism, incitement to hatred, defamation of individuals. Is it therefore appropriate to publish anything that would not fall under the law? I don't think so. We have always refused to publish a stupid and nasty cartoon, which does not deliver any thought-provoking message, but which aims only to gratuitously hurt or distort a religious belief, or which confuses all believers of a religion, for example through the figure of its founder or its emblematic symbol. We have published cartoons denouncing pedophile priests, but not cartoons showing Jesus as a pedophile predator. The message would have been: all Christians are potential pedophiles. Similarly, we have caricatured fanatical imams and rabbis, but we will never publish a cartoon showing Mohammed as a bomber or Moses as the murderer of Palestinian children. We refuse to imply that all Muslims are terrorists or all Jews are killers of innocents. I would add that a newspaper editor cannot ignore contemporary issues. His moral and political responsibility goes beyond the democratic legal framework. Being responsible is not simply respecting the laws. It also means demonstrating understanding and political awareness. Publishing Islamophobic cartoons in the current context is unnecessarily fueling tensions and providing fuel for extremists of all stripes. Certainly, violent reprisals are unacceptable. They paint a much more caricatured image of Islam than any of the offending cartoons, and many Muslims are distressed by this. Certainly, we can no longer accept complying with the rules of a culture that prohibits any criticism of religion. Certainly, we cannot forget or tolerate the violence of the anti-Semitic cartoons published almost daily in most Arab countries. But all these reasons must not serve as an excuse for adopting a provocative, aggressive, or contemptuous attitude: that would be to disregard the humanist values, whether religiously or secularly inspired, that form the basis of the civilization we proudly claim to represent. What if the real divide was not, contrary to what we are led to believe, between the West and the Muslim world, but rather between those in each of these two worlds who desire confrontation and fan the flames, or, on the contrary, those who, without denying or minimizing cultural differences, attempt to establish a critical and respectful dialogue, that is to say, constructive and responsible. Le Monde des religions, March-April 2006. [...]
Le Monde des Religions, January-February 2006 — Exactly one year ago, in January 2005, the new format of Le Monde des Religions was published. This is an opportunity for me to talk to you about the editorial and commercial development of the newspaper. This new format has borne fruit, as our title is growing very strongly. The average circulation of the magazine for the year 2004 (old format) was 38,000 copies per issue. In 2005, it was 55,000 copies, an increase of 45%. There were 25,000 of you subscribers at the end of 2004; today there are 30,000. But it is especially newsstand sales that have made a spectacular leap, going from an average of 13,000 copies per issue in 2004 to 25,000 copies in 2005. In the more than gloomy climate of the French press – most titles are in decline – such an increase is exceptional. I therefore warmly thank all our subscribers and loyal readers who have ensured the success of Le Monde des Religions. However, we must not declare victory too quickly, because we are still at the threshold of the viability threshold, which is above 60,000 copies. We are therefore still counting on your loyalty and your desire to make Le Monde des Religions known to those around you to ensure the longevity of the title. Many of you have written to encourage us or share your criticisms, and I thank you very much for that. I have taken some of your comments into account to further develop your magazine. You will notice in this issue that the "News" section has been removed. In fact, our bimonthly schedule and the very early deadlines for closing the issue (about a month before publication) do not allow us to keep up with current events. We have therefore followed through on the logic initiated during the new format, replacing the "News" pages with a large six-page article, which will appear at the beginning of the newspaper, just after the editorial, and which will be either a historical account or a sociological investigation. This is to respond to the demand of many readers to read more long and in-depth articles. This large article will be followed by a "Forum" section, an interactive space in the newspaper, which will leave even more room for readers' letters, questions to Odon Vallet, reactions and columns from personalities, as well as cartoons by various authors (Chabert and Valdor needing a breather). So, the big interview goes to the end of the magazine. I also take advantage of this first anniversary to thank all those who fought so that Le Monde des Religions could develop, starting with Jean-Marie Colombani, without whom this title would not exist and who has always given us his support and confidence. Thank you also to the teams at Malesherbes Publications and its successive directors, who have helped and supported us in our progress, as well as to the sales teams at Le Monde who have successfully invested in promotion and newsstand sales. Finally, thank you to the small team at Le Monde des Religions as well as to the columnists and freelance journalists associated with it, who work enthusiastically to offer you a better understanding of religions and the wisdom of humanity. [...]
Le Monde des religions, November-December 2005 — Even though I am reluctant to speak in these columns about a work of which I am a co-author, it is impossible for me not to say a word about Abbé Pierre's latest book, which touches on subjects of burning current interest and which risks arousing many passions. *For nearly a year, I have collected the reflections and questions of the founder of Emmaüs on very diverse themes – from religious fanaticism to the problem of evil, by way of the Eucharist or original sin. Of twenty-eight chapters, five are devoted to questions of sexual morality. Given the rigor of John Paul II and Benedict XVI on this subject, Abbé Pierre's remarks seem revolutionary. Yet, if one reads carefully what he says, the founder of Emmaüs remains quite measured. He says he is in favor of the ordination of married men, but strongly affirms the need to maintain consecrated celibacy. He does not condemn the union of persons of the same sex, but wishes that marriage remains a social institution reserved for heterosexuals. He believes that Jesus, since he is fully human, necessarily felt the force of sexual desire, but he also affirms that nothing in the Gospel allows us to affirm whether he gave in to it or not. Finally, in a somewhat different, but equally sensitive area, he recalls that no decisive theological argument seems to oppose the ordination of women and that this question is above all a matter of the evolution of mentalities, which have been marked until our days by a certain contempt for the "weaker sex." If Abbé Pierre's words are sure to cause a stir within the Catholic Church, it is not because they tend to absolve the moral relativism of our time (which would be a very bad accusation), but because they open a discussion on the question, which has become truly taboo, of sexuality. And it is because this debate has been frozen by Rome, that the remarks and questions posed by Abbé Pierre are crucial for some, disturbing for others. I attended this debate within Emmaüs itself before the publication of the book, when Abbé Pierre gave the manuscript to those around him to read. Some were enthusiastic, others uncomfortable and critical. I also pay tribute here to the various leaders of Emmaüs who, whatever their opinion, respected their founder's choice to publish this book as it was. To one of them who was concerned about the significant space devoted in the work to questions of sexuality—and even more so about the way in which the media would report on them—Abbé Pierre pointed out that these questions of sexual morality ultimately held a very small place in the Gospels. But it was because the Church attached great importance to these questions that he felt obliged to speak about them, many Christians and non-Christians being shocked by the Vatican's intransigent positions on issues that do not relate to the foundations of the faith and which deserve a real debate. I fully agree with the point of view of the founder of Emmaus. I would add: if the Gospels—to which we devote our dossier—do not insist on these questions, it is because they are not primarily intended to constitute an individual or collective morality, but to open the heart of each person to an abyss capable of upsetting and reorienting their lives. By focusing too much on dogma and norms to the detriment of simply proclaiming the message of Jesus, which said "Be merciful" and "Do not judge," has the Church not become, for many of our contemporaries, a real obstacle to the discovery of the person and message of Christ? No one is undoubtedly better placed today than Abbé Pierre, who has been one of the best witnesses of the Gospel message for seventy years, to be concerned about this. *Abbé Pierre, with Frédéric Lenoir, "My God... Why?" Little meditations on the Christian faith and the meaning of life, Plon, October 27, 2005. [...]
Le Monde des religions, September-October 2005 — "Why the 21st century is religious." The title of the major feature in this back-to-school issue echoes the famous phrase attributed to André Malraux: "The 21st century will be religious or it will not be." The phrase hits the mark. Rehashed by all the media for twenty years, it is sometimes transcribed as "the 21st century will be spiritual or it will not be." I have already witnessed oratorical fights between supporters of the two quotes. A vain fight... since Malraux never pronounced this sentence! There is no trace of the phrase in his books, his handwritten notes, his speeches, or his interviews. Better still, the person concerned himself constantly denied this quote when people began to attribute it to him in the mid-fifties. Our friend and collaborator Michel Cazenave, among other witnesses close to Malraux, reminded us of this again recently. So, what exactly did the great writer say that led to the idea of putting such a prophecy in his mouth? Everything seems to have been decided in 1955 around two texts. Responding to a question sent by the Danish newspaper Dagliga Nyhiter concerning the religious basis of morality, Malraux concluded his answer thus: "For fifty years, psychology has been reintegrating demons into man. Such is the serious assessment of psychoanalysis. I think that the task of the next century, faced with the most terrible threat that humanity has ever known, will be to reintroduce the gods." In March of the same year, the journal Preuves published two reissues of interviews published in 1945 and 1946, which it supplemented with a questionnaire sent to the author of The Human Condition. At the end of this interview, Malraux declared: "The crucial problem of the end of the century will be the religious problem - in a form as different from the one we know, as Christianity was from the ancient religions." » It is from these two quotes that the famous formula was constructed – without anyone knowing by whom. However, this one is highly ambiguous. For the “return of religion” that we are witnessing, particularly in its identitarian and fundamentalist form, is the antithesis of the religion to which General de Gaulle’s former Minister of Culture alludes. The second quote is, in this respect, extremely explicit: Malraux announces the advent of a religious problematic radically different from those of the past. In many other texts and interviews, he calls, in the manner of Bergson’s “soul supplement,” for a major spiritual event to lift man out of the abyss into which he plunged himself during the 20th century (see on this subject the beautiful little book by Claude Tannery, L’Héritage spirituel de Malraux – Arléa, 2005). This spiritual event, for Malraux's agnostic mind, did not constitute a call for a revival of traditional religions. Malraux believed religions to be as mortal as Valéry believed civilizations to be. But for him, they fulfilled a fundamental positive function, which will continue to function: that of creating gods who are "the torches lit one by one by man to light the path that tears him away from the beast." When Malraux asserts that "the task of the 21st century will be to reintroduce the gods into man," he is thus calling for a new surge of religiosity, but one that will come from the depths of the human spirit and that will move in the direction of a conscious integration of the divine into the psyche—like the demons of psychoanalysis—and not a projection of the divine toward an exteriority, as was often the case with traditional religions. In other words, Malraux was waiting for the advent of a new spirituality in the colors of man, a spirituality which is perhaps in embryo, but which is still very much stifled at the beginning of this century by the fury of the clash of traditional religious identities. PS 1: I welcome with joy the appointment of Djénane Kareh Tager as editor-in-chief of Le Monde des Religions (she held until now the position of general secretary of the editorial staff). PS 2: I would like to inform our readers of the creation of a new collection of very educational special issues of Le Monde des Religions: "20 keys to understanding". The first concerns the religions of ancient Egypt (see page 7)
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Le Monde des religions, July-August 2005. Harry Potter, The Da Vinci Code, The Lord of the Rings, The Alchemist: the greatest literary and cinematic successes of the last decade have one thing in common: they satisfy our need for the marvelous. Sprinkled with sacred enigmas, magic formulas, strange phenomena, and terrible secrets, they satisfy our taste for mystery, our fascination with the unexplained. For this is the paradox of our ultramodernity: the more science progresses, the more we need dreams and myths. The more the world seems decipherable and rationalizable, the more we seek to restore its magical aura. We are currently witnessing an attempt to re-enchant the world... precisely because the world has been disenchanted. Carl Gustav Jung explained this half a century ago: human beings need reason as much as emotion, science as myth, arguments as symbols. Why? Quite simply because he is not just a being of reason. He also connects to the world through his desire, his sensitivity, his heart, his imagination. He feeds on dreams as much as on logical explanations, on poetry and legends as much as on objective knowledge. The error of European scientism inherited from the 19th century (more than from the Enlightenment) was to deny this. We believed we could eradicate the irrational part of man and explain everything according to Cartesian logic. We scorned imagination and intuition. We relegated myth to the rank of children's fable. The Christian Churches partly followed in the footsteps of rationalist criticism. They favored a dogmatic and normative discourse—appealing to reason—to the detriment of the transmission of an inner experience—linked to the heart—or of a symbolic knowledge that speaks to the imagination. We are therefore witnessing today a return of the repressed. Dan Brown's readers are essentially Christians who seek in his esoteric thrillers the element of mystery, myth, and symbolism that they no longer find in their churches. Fans of The Lord of the Rings, like devoted readers of Bernard Werber, are often young adults with a good scientific and technical background, but who are also in search of magical worlds inspired by mythologies other than those of our religions, from which they have seriously distanced themselves. Should we be worried about this return of myth and the marvelous? Certainly not, as long as it does not, in turn, constitute a rejection of reason and science. Religions, for example, should attach more importance to this need for emotion, mystery, and symbolism, without renouncing the depth of moral and theological teaching. Readers of The Da Vinci Code can be moved by the magic of the novel and that of the great myths of esotericism (the secret of the Templars, etc.), without taking the author's theses at face value and refuting historical knowledge in the name of a completely fictitious conspiracy theory. In other words, it's all a question of the right balance between desire and reality, emotion and reason. Man needs the marvelous to be fully human, but he must not mistake his dreams for reality. Le Monde des religions, July-August 2005. [...]
Le Monde des religions, May-June 2005 — A thinker, mystic, and pope with exceptional charisma, Karol Wojtyla nevertheless leaves his successor a mixed legacy. John Paul II tore down many walls, but erected others. This long, paradoxical pontificate of openness, particularly toward other religions, and doctrinal and disciplinary closure, will, in any case, mark one of the most important pages in the history of the Catholic Church and undoubtedly in all of history. As I write these lines, the cardinals are preparing to elect John Paul II's successor. Whoever the new pope is, he will face many challenges. These are the main issues for the future of Catholicism that we address in a special report. I will not return to the analyses and the many points raised in these pages by Régis Debray, Jean Mouttapa, Henri Tincq, François Thual and Odon Vallet or to the remarks of various representatives of other religions and Christian denominations. I will simply draw attention to one aspect. One of the main challenges for Catholicism, as for any other religion, is taking into account the spiritual needs of our contemporaries. However, these needs are expressed today in three ways that are very little in keeping with Catholic tradition, which will make the task of John Paul II's successors extremely difficult. Indeed, since the Renaissance, we have been witnessing a dual movement of individualization and globalization that has continued to accelerate for the past thirty years. The consequence on the religious level: individuals tend to construct their personal spirituality by drawing from the global reservoir of symbols, practices and doctrines. A Westerner today can easily call himself Catholic, be touched by the person of Jesus, go to mass from time to time, but also practice Zen meditation, believe in reincarnation and read Sufi mystics. The same goes for a South American, an Asian or an African, who has also been, and has been for a long time, attracted by a religious syncretism between Catholicism and traditional religions. This "symbolic bricolage", this practice of "religious off-piste", tends to become widespread and it is difficult to see how the Catholic Church will be able to impose on its faithful a strict observance of the dogma and practice to which it is very attached. Another colossal challenge: that of the return of the irrational and of magical thinking. The process of rationalization, which has long been at work in the West and which has deeply permeated Christianity, is today giving rise to a backlash: that of the repression of the imaginary and of magical thinking. However, as Régis Debray reminds us here, the more the world becomes technical and rationalized, the more it reveals, in compensation, a demand for the affective, the emotional, the imaginary, the mythical. Hence the success of esotericism, astrology, the paranormal, and the development of magical behaviors within historical religions themselves – such as the revival of the cult of saints in Catholicism and Islam. Added to these two trends is a phenomenon that is disrupting the traditional perspective of Catholicism: our contemporaries are much less concerned with happiness in the afterlife than with earthly happiness. The entire Christian pastoral approach is modified as a result: we no longer preach heaven and hell, but the happiness of feeling saved now because we have encountered Jesus in emotional communion. Entire sections of the Magisterium remain out of step with this evolution, which prioritizes meaning and affect over faithful observance of dogma and norms. Syncretic and magical practices aimed at achieving happiness on earth: this is what characterized the paganism of Antiquity, heir to the religions of prehistory (see our dossier), against which the Church fought so hard to assert itself. The archaic is making a strong comeback in ultramodernity. This is probably the greatest challenge that Christianity will have to face in the 21st century. [...]
Le Monde des religions, March-April 2005 — It doesn't matter whether the devil exists or not. What is undeniable is that he is coming back. In France and around the world. Not in a spectacular and sensational way, but in a diffuse and multifaceted manner. We can point to a host of clues to this surprising comeback. Desecrations of cemeteries, more often of a satanic than racist nature, have multiplied throughout the world over the past decade. In France, more than 3,000 Jewish, Christian, or Muslim graves have been desecrated over the past five years, double the number in the previous decade. While only 18% of French people believe in the existence of the devil, those under 24 are the most numerous (27%) to share this belief. And 34% believe that an individual can be possessed by the devil (1). Belief in hell has even doubled among those under 28 over the past two decades (2). Our survey shows that significant parts of teen culture – gothism, metal music – are imbued with references to Satan, the quintessential rebellious figure who opposed the Father. Should we read this morbid and sometimes violent universe as simply the normal manifestation of a need for rebellion and provocation? Or should we simply explain it by the proliferation of films, comics, and video games featuring the devil and his acolytes? In the 60s and 70s, teens – and I was one of them – sought to express their difference and their rebellion by rejecting consumer society. Indian gurus and the soaring music of Pink Floyd fascinated us more than Beelzebub and hyper-violent heavy metal. Should we not read in this fascination with evil a reflection of the violence and fears of our time, marked by a disintegration of traditional social references and ties and by a profound anxiety about the future? As Jean Delumeau reminds us, history shows that it is in times of great fear that the devil returns to the stage. Is this not also the reason for Satan's return to politics? Reintroduced by Ayatollah Khomeini when he castigated the Great American Satan, the reference to the devil and the explicit demonization of the political adversary was taken up by Ronald Reagan, Bin Laden, and George Bush. The latter is only inspired by the considerable resurgence in popularity enjoyed by Satan among American Evangelicals, who are increasing the practice of exorcism and denouncing a world subject to the powers of Evil. Since Paul VI, who spoke of the "smoke of Satan" to discuss the growing secularization of Western countries, the Catholic Church, which had long since distanced itself from the devil, has not been left behind, and, as a sign of the times, the Vatican has just created an exorcism seminary within the prestigious Pontifical University Regina Apostolorum. All these clues merited not only a real investigative file on the return of the devil, but also on his identity and his role. Who is the devil? How did he appear in religions? What do the Bible and the Koran say about him? Why do monotheistic religions need this figure who embodies absolute evil more than shamanic, polytheistic, or Asian religions? How can psychoanalysis also shed light on this character, on his psychic function, and allow for a stimulating symbolic reinterpretation of the biblical devil? Because if, according to its etymology, the "symbol" - sumbolon - is "that which unites", the "devil" - diabolon - is "that which divides". One thing seems certain to me: it is only by identifying our fears and our "divisions" both individual and collective, by bringing them to light through a demanding work of awareness and symbolization, by integrating our dark side - as Juliette Binoche reminds us in the luminous interview she granted us - that we will overcome the devil and this archaic need, as old as humanity, to project onto the other, onto the different, onto the foreigner, our own untamed impulses and our anxieties of fragmentation. (1) According to a Sofres/Pèlerin magazine survey of December 2002. (2) The values of Europeans, Futuribles, July-August 2002)
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Le Monde des religions, January-February 2005 — Editorial — When I began working in publishing and the press, in the late 1980s, religion interested no one. Today, through multiple forms, religion is invading the media. In fact, the 21st century is opening with an increased influence of "religious fact" in the course of the world and societies. Why? Today we are confronted with two very different expressions of religion: the awakening of identity and the need for meaning. The awakening of identity concerns the entire planet. It arises from the clash of cultures, from new political and economic conflicts that mobilize religion as the emblem of identity of a people, a nation, or a civilization. The need for meaning primarily affects the secularized and de-ideologized West. Ultramodern individuals distrust religious institutions, they intend to be the legislators of their own lives, they no longer believe in the bright future promised by science and politics: they nevertheless continue to be confronted with the great questions of origin, suffering, death. Likewise, they need rites, myths, and symbols. This need for meaning re-examines the great philosophical and religious traditions of humanity: the success of Buddhism and mysticism, the revival of esotericism, the return to Greek wisdom. The awakening of religion in its two aspects, identity and spiritual, evokes the dual etymology of the word religion: to gather and to connect. Human beings are religious animals because they look to the sky and question the enigma of existence. They gather to welcome the sacred. They are also religious because they seek to connect with their fellow human beings in a sacred bond based on transcendence. This dual vertical and horizontal dimension of religion has existed since the dawn of time. Religion has been one of the main catalysts for the birth and development of civilizations. It has produced sublime things: the active compassion of saints and mystics, charitable works, the greatest artistic masterpieces, universal moral values, and even the birth of science. But in its hard version, it has always fueled and legitimized wars and massacres. Religious extremism also has its two sides. The poison of the vertical dimension is dogmatic fanaticism or delusional irrationality. A kind of pathology of certainty that can drive individuals and societies to all extremes in the name of faith. The poison of the horizontal dimension is racist communitarianism, a pathology of collective identity. The explosive mixture of the two gave rise to witch hunts, the Inquisition, the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin, and September 11. Faced with the threats they pose to the planet, some European observers and intellectuals are tempted to reduce religion to its extremist forms and condemn it wholesale (for example, Islam = radical Islamism). This is a serious error that has the effect of amplifying what we are trying to combat. We will only succeed in defeating religious extremism by also recognizing the positive and civilizing value of religions and by accepting their diversity; by admitting that man has an individual and collective need for the sacred and for symbols; by attacking the root of the evils that explain the current success of the instrumentalization of religion by politics: North-South inequalities, poverty and injustice, the new American imperialism, too rapid globalization, contempt for traditional identities and customs... The 21st century will be what we make of it. Religion can be just as much a symbolic tool put at the service of policies of conquest and destruction as it can be a ferment of individual fulfillment and world peace in the diversity of cultures. [...]
Le Monde des Religions, November-December 2004 — Editorial — For several years now, we have been witnessing a return of religious certainties, linked to a growing identity crisis, which is focusing media attention. I believe this is the wood for the trees. As far as the West is concerned, let's not lose sight of how far we have come in a century. The issue we are devoting to the centenary of the French law on the separation of Church and State has given me the opportunity to delve back into this incredible context of hatred and mutual exclusion that prevailed between the Papist and anticlerical camps. In Europe, the turn of the 19th and 20th centuries was one of certainties. Ideological, religious, and scientific certainties. Many Christians were convinced that unbaptized children would go to hell and that only their Church possessed the truth. Atheists, for their part, despised religion and considered it an anthropological (Feuerbach), intellectual (Comte), economic (Marx), or psychological (Freud) alienation. Today, in Europe and the United States, 90% of believers believe, according to a recent survey, that no single religion holds the Truth, but that there are truths in all religions. Atheists, too, are more tolerant, and most scientists no longer consider religion a superstition destined to disappear with the progress of science. Overall, from a closed universe of certainties we have moved, in barely a century, to an open world of probabilities. This modern form of skepticism, which François Furet called "the insurmountable horizon of modernity," has been able to become widespread in our societies because believers have opened up to other religions, but also because modernity has rid itself of its certainties inherited from the scientistic myth of progress: where knowledge advances, religion and traditional values recede. Have we not therefore become disciples of Montaigne? Whatever their philosophical or religious convictions, a majority of Westerners subscribe to the postulate that human intelligence is incapable of attaining ultimate truths and definitive metaphysical certainties. In other words, God is uncertain. As our great philosopher explained five centuries ago, one can therefore only believe, but also not believe, in uncertainty. Uncertainty, I should point out, does not mean doubt. We can have faith, deep convictions, and certainties, but admit that others, in good faith and with as many good reasons as we do, may not share them. The interviews given to Le Monde des Religions by two men of the theater, Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt and Peter Brook, are eloquent in this regard. The first fervently believes in "an unidentifiable God" who "does not come from knowledge" and affirms that "a thought that does not doubt itself is not intelligent." The second makes no reference to God, but remains open to an "unknown, unnameable" divine being and confesses: "I would have liked to say: 'I believe in nothing...' But believing in nothing is still the absolute expression of a belief. » Such remarks illustrate this fact, which in my opinion deserves to be meditated upon more in order to escape from stereotypes and simplistic discourses: the real divide today is less and less, as in the last century, between "believers" and "unbelievers", but between those, "believers" or "unbelievers", who accept uncertainty and those who reject it. ? Le Monde des Religions, November-December 2004 [...]