“Jesus said, ‘I am the way, and the truth, and the life.  No one comes to the Father except through me.’” 

These words raise certain questions in our minds, just as they have for Christians throughout the centuries.  Is Christianity the only true religion?  Will people other than Christians be saved? 

Some Christians believe that Christianity has an exclusive claim to the truth and that there is no salvation outside the church, except perhaps for those who have never heard the gospel—they will be given the chance to accept or reject it when they encounter God in the next life. 

Most people in our pluralist, multicultural society are appalled by this view.  It seems narrow minded and even bigoted.  And how do we take account of people of other faiths who are obviously good people?  The Dalai Lama comes to mind – as well as ordinary people like Liviu Librescu, a Jewish Holocaust survivor who taught at Virginia Tech.  On the terrible day of the shooting last year, he threw himself in front a student to protect him and was killed. How could God not embrace all people of good will?  

If God does not accept non-Christians, many will understandably conclude that the God proclaimed by Christians is too small.  Many people assume that all Christians take the exclusivist view, and so they don’t want anything to do with the Church. 

But all Christians clearly don’t think this way.  From the earliest centuries, there were those who believed in universal salvation.  Some of the leading doctors of the Church in the 3rd and 4th centuries, like Clement of Alexandria, Gregory of Nyssa and Origen believed that God’s plan to restore all of creation inherently included all people. 

But before we leave the exclusivist view behind, I want to argue out that it has some points in its favor.  First, the earliest Christians were a tiny persecuted minority.  It is possible that if they had not believed with all their hearts that Christianity was the only path to salvation, they would not have had the courage to endure martyrdom—like the stoning of the Church’s first martyr, St. Stephen, in today’s reading from Acts.  The word martyr means witness—without the witness of these brave men and women, Christianity might well have died out, rather than attracting countless adherents who wanted to know what made these people so dedicated and courageous. 

And there have also been many centuries in which most Christians lived in isolation from other faiths, like much of the middle ages.  They were not exposed to ideas and faiths that challenged their exclusivist view of Christianity. 

But even now, when we are exposed to all sorts of ideas and religions, I think it is wrong to simply dismiss people who take this view as ignorant and intolerant.  At least they take seriously the idea of truth beyond the realm of science.  It is a commonplace of our culture to view science as the only “hard truth,” meaning that it can be verified by repeatable experiments.  All other claims to truth can’t be proven in the same way, and are therefore relegated to the subjective realm where they can be easily dismissed, or we can pick and choose whichever one suits our individual tastes.

The exclusivist view also takes seriously the radical monotheism of Scripture—“I am a jealous God—you shall have no other gods before me.” Worship of other gods is idolatry according to much of Scripture. 

But the most important reason not to dismiss Christians who take the exclusivist position is that they are our brothers and sisters in Christ.  We may find someone’s views morally repugnant but that doesn’t let us off the hook.  We still have to love them and treat them with dignity and respect. 

There is a wonderful sign down at the Egg’s Nest that says, “Listen, disagree.”  Loving our neighbors means at a minimum being willing to engage them—to listen with an open mind, be willing to be changed and be willing to disagree.  Too often we’re afraid to disagree because we have been taught that it is not possible to disagree without being disagreeable. 

So, if we disagree with the exclusivist view, what other options are there?  For the record, I do disagree because I think that overall, Scripture witnesses to a bigger, more generous God than any of us can imagine.  God is compassionate and loving toward all people, and constantly challenging us to expand our “us” to include “them,” whoever “they” might be.

One option is to take the pluralist view, which gives parity to all religions.  They’re all equally true, or alternatively, they’re all equally untrue.  I’m going to set aside the view that all religions are equally untrue because that is typically a view that is seeking scientific proof, which as I said earlier, is not available for religious truth. 

But what about the position that all faiths are equally true—the idea that all faiths are essentially teaching the same thing and heading in the same direction.  There’s a Japanese saying that although there are different paths to the summit, from the top one sees the same moon. 

There is some merit to this view as well.  I went to a conference on the Golden Rule at Bard College this week, with a couple of members of the Wednesday Bible study.  The conference was based on the idea that some version of the Golden Rule, (treat others as you would be treated) exists in all or most world religions.  Looking for commonalities such as the Golden Rule is a great way to begin an interfaith dialogue, just as it is a great way to begin a friendship.  It has the added advantage of avoiding the need to disagree, and thus the risk of being disagreeable. 

But, (you knew it was coming) but, all religions are not the same and they even disagree about some things that are essential to them.  For example, Christians believe that Jesus is the Messiah and the Son of God—Jews don’t.  Even at the Golden Rule Conference, there were different ways of thinking about the Golden Rule.  Zoroastrians, an ancient sect originating in Iran, believe that history is a struggle between good and evil and between order and chaos.  Human beings are created good, but they are free agents.  When they act according to the Golden Rule, they contribute to the harmony and order of the whole of creation.  Judaism and Christianity don’t really teach that and maybe we should.  Maybe we can learn from this. 

But on the other hand, Zoroastrianism teaches that your life will be better if you live according to the Golden Rule—that it is in your own self-interest to do so. 

Judaism and Christianity take account of the darker reality that you can do good and still suffer for it.  That theme runs through Job, the Suffering Servant in Isaiah and of course, Jesus.  It may be better for your soul to love your neighbor as yourself, but that doesn’t necessarily protect you from being pilloried for it.  I didn’t get a chance to ask the speaker about that, and if I had, I might have discovered another level of Zoroastrian teaching. 

But my point is that while there are commonalities, there are also differences and we need to take them seriously enough to engage in dialogue about them too, even if we end up disagreeing.

Also, and I may offend some people with this, I don’t believe all religions are equal.  In the words of an online essayist named Dan Clendenen, “I’ll never grant David Koresh religious parity with Mother Teresa. I don’t think that Aztec human sacrifice and Buddhist almsgiving can expect equal allegiance. Hindu widow-burning, female infanticide, phallic worship (Egypt, Assyria, Greece, Rome, India, Japan, Native American), and the mass suicide of 913 people at Jim Jones’ “People’s Temple” in northern Guyana all strike me as badly wrong.”

So, is there a third option?  Can we take Christianity’s claim to truth seriously without shutting out either other people or other ideas? Can we commit ourselves to Christ as our savior without concluding that non-Christians are outside the scope of salvation? 

I think there is a third option if we approach these questions with humility and charity.  Maybe we can’t resolve all questions.  And maybe the value of being genuinely open and loving toward other people exceeds the value of being right on all questions, assuming that is even possible.  The gift of this branch of Christianity, meaning Anglicanism is the willingness to live with tension and paradox and unresolved questions because we would rather live together and disagree than to fly apart.  Our church was born out of bloody battles between Catholics and Protestants and the Elizabethan settlement involved steering a middle course between them—the via media.  At its best, the middle way is the way of humility and charity—the acceptance that we can’t resolve all issues of doctrine and we need to listen to each other with genuine openness and love.  The downside is that we sometimes lack clarity when we need it, and sometimes put off taking a stand even when we should.  Maybe that’s where the branches of Christianity that express more doctrinal certainty come in.  Because I have no doubt that all branches of Christianity are necessary in God’s economy, just as all people are necessary in God’s economy.  If anyone is excluded from God’s table, it is no longer God’s table. 

For my part, I hold Christianity to be true.  I believe that Jesus is the way, the truth and the life.  I believe that salvation has come to the whole world through Christ, but as C.S. Lewis put it, I have no idea what arrangements God has made with other people.  I trust in God’s love and tender compassion for all people. These ideas are in some tension and I cannot necessarily resolve that tension.