The theology of difference: It's a blessing, not a curse

Sukidi, Cambridge, Massachusetts

What is meant by the dignity of difference? This critical question reminds me of distinguished biblical scholar, Jonathan Sacks, who serves as chief rabbi of the United Hebrew congregation of Britain and the Commonwealth. Sacks regards the dignity of difference as a counterpoise against Huntington's myth of a clash of civilizations. It is also a contribution to the understanding of the general manner in which a distinctive set of Jewish teachings becomes an effective force. The dignity of difference, in Sacks's mind, can be associated with a number of different stages.

First, Sacks defines the dignity of difference as existing at the heart of monotheism. The roots of biblical monotheism, (that of the covenant with Noah and the seven basic commandments), can be used for a basic theological foundation of "being" in respect of difference. One may assume that monotheism is often associated with the worship of one God. Sacks redefines such an assumption in favor of "the dignity of difference," arguing that "the unity is worshiped in diversity".

Though God is considered to be "one", Sacks believes in a God for all humanity. The covenant with a singular people, Sacks believes, does not exclude the chance for people from other faiths to have their own divine relationship with God under the banner of the Noahide laws. God is worshiped in a number of different ways, by different peoples, and through various languages and cultural expressions. As such, instead of seeking "a theology of commonality," Sacks rather seeks to find "a theology of difference" as a theological foundation for "the dignity of difference."

Second, Sacks supports his plea for "the dignity of difference" by looking at "the glory of the created world with its astonishing multiplicity," such as the multiplicity of peoples, religions, languages, ethnicities, identities and cultural differences.

Over the years, however, many people, ranging from academics to journalists and politicians, have regarded such differences as an obstacle and a threat to building a sustainable world order.

By contrast, Sacks sees these differences as a golden opportunity to celebrate harmony and unity in diversity. His religious encounters with people of other faiths, including Christians, Muslims, Sikhs, Hindus and others, does not lead him into religious and cultural conflict.

In fact, such encounters guide him toward more constructive work as he regards every difference as "a blessing, not a curse". He becomes actively engaged in a civic-religious association and solidarity to raise, among other things, a counter-voice against the abuse of religious doctrines for violence and terrorism.

Instead of seeing religion as a source of conflict and violence, Sacks sees and uses religion as a source of constructive values in fostering peace, harmony and civility in the age of terrorism. As such, a civic-religious association can be enforced as social capital for envisioning human dignity in a runaway world.

This is one of the concrete and practical instruments that can be employed to enhance the dignity of difference. What Sacks really wants is to rediscover the wisdom in religious traditions, "that spoke of human solidarity, of justice and compassion, and of the non-negotiable dignity of individual lives".

Third, arguing that "the dignity of difference is more than a religious idea," Sacks strongly criticizes the global tendency to reduce the diversity of the world into a single engine, such as the markets, science, technology, industry, globalization and economic liberalization.

The global market economy, for instance, has a strong tendency to reduce all things to economic terms: competition, investment, and profit. Furthermore, market-led liberalization can make the developed countries stronger than the rest of the world. The developing world, then, becomes weaker. As a consequence, the economic gap between the rich and the poor continues to grow.

This dehumanizing economic system has encouraged Sacks to ask for a moral common ground of global economic responsibility in dealing with the issues of poverty, AIDS and social justice, particularly in Africa and Asia. This call for responsibility is the right direction, precisely because of the results these systems of domination will produce.

In Jewish teaching, one of the important doctrines of the economic system is the biblical concept of tzedakah (distributive justice) and mishpat (retributive justice). Though tzedakah is a difficult term to translate properly into English, it conveys the notions of charity and justice and the dignity of being considered an equal citizen among citizens.

The theology of Judaism has taught us to differentiate between ownership and possession. Jews are all guardians on God's behalf, and have no absolute ownership of property in this world. All the property we possess and hold during our life is absolutely owned by God. God is the ultimate owner of human property.

As such, there is no moral or religious reason not to share our surplus of property with the poor and the needy. They live in poverty and suffer greatly from the political and economic injustice brought about by an often unfair modern economic system. Poverty tends to humiliate human dignity. Tzedakah, as a religious system of just redistribution of resources among the poor, provides an intrinsic foundation for enhancing human dignity.

Finally, I feel compelled to conclude with a question: how far can the notion of tzedakah go toward providing an alternative economic system to the global market economy? I believe that the notion of tzedakah, while a powerful moral voice, may limit our ability to apply our moral values to the world of economics and the politics of globalization.

This means that the application of tzedakah as an alternative economic system is still far away from accomplishing its goals. As a moral voice, we should not actually expect too much from it as a workable system for eradicating the huge disparities in wealth and extremes of poverty in underdeveloped countries.

The writer is a graduate student of theological studies at Harvard Divinity School, Harvard University, Cambridge, MA. He may be reached at sukidioslo@yahoo.com