The preliminary results of the working group on Catholicism and pluralism, which is part of the project “Theologies and Practices of Religious Pluralism,” were presented in Rome at the prestigious headquarters of La Civiltà Cattolica. In a later phase, the project will also extend to Buddhism and Hinduism. The main innovation here is that this is a “comparative” project, meaning it doesn’t only take a theological perspective but also includes historical and anthropological approaches, as well as aspects related to various social sciences.
It may seem like a new perspective is being embraced, but it’s not. Alongside the theology of “conflict,’ the theology of “encounter” has already been present in figures like Nicholas of Cusa in Catholicism and many others in different traditions. For instance, Rumi in Islam is a well-known example.
The workshop held at Villa Malta focused on Catholicism, a tradition in which the certainty of extra ecclesiam nulla salus (no salvation outside the Church) has long prevailed, with all the consequences that entailed over a very long period. As a comparative and multidisciplinary project, this research did not aim to propose a theology of interreligious dialogue—this was not the venue for that. However, perhaps achieving that goal requires work of this kind. The urgency and importance of this effort became evident on February 4, 2019, when Pope Francis and the Imam of Al-Azhar University signed the Document on Human Fraternity, which stated: “Freedom is a right of every person: each individual enjoys the freedom of belief, thought, expression, and action. Pluralism and the diversity of religions, color, sex, race, and language are a wise divine will with which God created human beings. This divine wisdom is the source from which the right to freedom of belief and the freedom to be different derives. Therefore, it is to be condemned that people are forced to adhere to a certain religion or culture, as well as to impose a lifestyle that others do not accept.”
Even a layperson, like the author of this text, can understand that we are dealing with a clear theocentrism. This is easier for the imam, representing a fully monotheistic Islam, and less for the pope. While the pope seems to be consistently moving away from the old ecclesiocentric framework (“extra ecclesiam nulla salus”), he neither explicitly adopts nor excludes a Christocentric or Pneumocentric approach. Perhaps he is pointing to the urgency of a truly Trinitarian Catholic theology.
Jocelyne Cesari, the coordinator of the Islamic group, accurately highlighted in her speech how understanding one religion can also help in understanding others: “What has been very interesting, counterintuitively, is that the Islamic tradition has no problem with religious pluralism. There is an inherent pluralism. You can be Jewish or Christian and have the right to salvation. This is written in the Quran. In the work we have done over the past two years, we have analyzed and discussed the reasons for the closing off. Islam has become increasingly suspicious, if not outright rejecting, of the secular world and relativism in particular. Additionally, there has been a shift to very intense intra-religious struggle and competition. I would say, in a few words, that Muslims don’t have a real problem with other religions, but they face many challenges within their own community—issues related to women, apostasy, and the way those some call liberal Muslims conduct themselves. After listening to today’s discussion on Catholics, it’s quite fascinating to see the opposite trajectory: at the beginning, Catholicism was very closed off—you were only safe if you were Catholic—and now we’re not at the end, but in a very specific phase where there is openness, and there is the Abu Dhabi Declaration, where plurality is seen as the will of God. But if I look at Islam over the long term, I see several moments of closure that make this kind of inclusive position increasingly difficult. I’m not saying that individual Muslims don’t think or act this way, but in terms of authoritative positions, it’s becoming increasingly difficult to accept inclusivity and plurality.”
However, alongside Jocelyne Cesari’s counterintuitive system, we must also consider the expository aspect: what was said about Catholics and Catholicism? José Casanova, who co-coordinated the Catholicism group with Peter Phan, referred to the wars in the former Yugoslavia, emphasizing: “We began this morning with a conversation about Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina, and the specific challenge of what religious pluralism was before the conflicts of the 1990s and what happened afterward.” It’s not difficult to consider the Catholic Church’s objective responsibilities, particularly with the Croatian side, as well as the mistakes of Vatican diplomacy at the beginning of the Yugoslav disaster, which was unaware of the implications that redrawing internal borders would have. This was a problematic point in the post-conciliar journey, which objectively transformed Catholic discourse, particularly with the recognition of religious freedom. This is the most significant and intrinsic aspect of the chosen model. As Peter Phan put it, “The most interesting issues about religious pluralism lie in how this theme has been experienced in different parts of the world. For me, that is the most fascinating part. Sometimes we are isolated in our ivory towers. We are concerned with theological issues, but we forget and overlook how these issues are lived out in the concrete daily lives of Catholics.”
Casanova himself helped frame the discussion in historical terms: “Obviously, the Peace of Westphalia was a way to eliminate pluralism by homogenizing. So, all of Northern Europe became Protestant, all of Southern Europe became Catholic, and the intermediate societies were bi-confessional. But all other religions had to go elsewhere. So, it was Cuius regio, eius religio (whose realm, his religion), and this model was globalized along with the nation-state. It reproduces these problems every time there are post-colonial or post-imperial nation-states, and the ethnic cleansing that was part of European state formation was repeated. Ethnic cleansing began in 1492, to get rid of Jews and Muslims in Spain.”
However, it was impossible to overlook the essence of the matter, specifically the Second Vatican Council. Massimo Faggioli addressed this in his presentation, a meticulous work worth highlighting in at least two passages. First, he noted: “Interpreting the theology of Vatican II, especially after Benedict XVI’s December 22, 2005, speech on the two hermeneutics (‘continuity and reform’ vs. ‘discontinuity and rupture’), involves navigating the complex doctrinal politics between approaches to the Council that became polarized in the second phase of the post-Vatican II era, particularly after the death of John Paul II. The conciliar fathers, the theologians of Vatican II, and especially Paul VI, were very mindful of the need to maintain a connection with the Church’s tradition and to avoid a break with the past. But it is also undeniable that Vatican II had a strong sense of its own legitimacy and its teachings, and therefore its ability to develop theological shifts of epochal significance. This was particularly true regarding the issue of religious pluralism and the documents Dignitatis Humanae and Nostra Aetate.”
If this is the first point worth emphasizing from Professor Faggioli’s intervention, the second complements it in a certain sense. Regarding Muslims and the Nostra Aetate Declaration, he noted: “Paragraph 3 on ‘Muslims’ (and not on Islam—a terminological uncertainty that reveals what was only a first step in interreligious dialogue for the Catholic Church) is aware of the tragic history of violent relations but seeks to appeal to the ability to forget: ‘Over the centuries, many quarrels and dissensions have arisen between Christians and Muslims. The sacred synod now pleads with all to forget the past and urges that a sincere effort be made to achieve mutual understanding for the benefit of all, to preserve and promote together peace, liberty, social justice, and moral values.’”
Regarding the Jews, he continued: “The Nostra Aetate Declaration ‘deplores’ anti-Semitism but does not explicitly mention anti-Judaism, which is more properly a Christian theological issue.”
The significance and breadth of this journey, perhaps crucial for humanity and certainly for the Catholic Church, became evident when listening to Casanova: “In the Latin West, it was St. Augustine who established the enduring theological foundation of the Christian dispensation, which structured the monotheistic and monopolistic religious regime of Western Christianity until the modern secular era. The Christian dispensation is based on a new classificatory scheme that distinguishes the Catholic faith as the only true religion, while all others are categorized into various groups: ‘schismatic’ and ‘heretical’ Christians, ‘infidel’ Jews and Muslims, and ‘pagan’ idolaters. In particular, after the schism between Eastern Byzantine Christianity and Western Latin Christianity, this nomenclature was used throughout the Middle Ages to assert the exclusive claims of the Roman Catholic Church and its explicit condemnation of all other religions. As Peter Phan emphasized, the Council of Florence (1442) in its condemnation of the Copts perhaps offers the most radical formulation of the exclusivist paradigm expressed in the formula extra ecclesiam nulla salus.”
The path of religious pluralism is crucial for the entire journey towards pluralism, moving away from the dangerously misleading illusion of monism. The road to a genuine theology of interreligious dialogue, which is more than just dialogue but involves encounter, remains long. This is masterfully illustrated by Phan, who connects with many contemporary expressions of thought: “Another Jesuit, the German Hans Waldenfels, shares Dupuis’ basic insights into the role of non-Christian religions in the history of salvation but also proposes a ‘mutually inclusive’ theology of religions, in which Christianity not only includes other religions but is also included by them. In Rahner’s words, there are not only Buddhists who are ‘anonymous Christians,’ but also Christians who are ‘anonymous Buddhists.’ All religions, including Christianity, are part of the world’s story, which, as Waldenfels suggests, consists of five narratives: suffering, searching, promise, salvation, and God, which each religion tells in its own way and must learn from the narratives of others through interreligious dialogue. Every participant in the dialogue, including Christians, must consider the possibility of converting to a different religious tradition.”
These words moved me because they reminded me of another Jesuit, Father Paolo Dall’Oglio, who was kidnapped by ISIS in 2013 and spoke of his temptation to convert, a gesture that was, of course, misunderstood. He made this reflection after writing Innamorato dell’Islam, credente in Gesù (In love with Islam, Believer in Jesus, ed.), whose theses had caused many headaches with the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, starting with the simplest one: outside the truth of faith, there are no false beliefs and thus no false humanity.
