Too often, faith is mysterious only selectively. When questions get tough, a god can disappear in a puff of ineffabilityTerry Eagleton's quip that reading Richard Dawkins on theology is like listening to someone "holding forth on biology whose only knowledge of the subject is The British Book of Birds" is a funny and memorable contribution to a debate that is rarely amusing and frequently forgettable. Whether you agree with the charge or not, the complaint is of a kind we have become very familiar with: disputants in the religion debate are talking past each other because they do not have a sufficiently rich understanding of the positions they stand against.
I'm very much in sympathy with this view, and this series is largely an attempt to try to find more constructive points of engagement that can only emerge if we ditch lazy and tired preconceptions about those with whom we disagree. At the same time, however, I'm all too aware that "you just don't understand" is a card that is often played far too swiftly and without justification.
Most obviously, it cannot be the case that the views of someone who is most immersed in or knows most about a religion always trump those of a relatively uninformed outsider. People who live and breathe a faith know more about it than those who do not – but this quantitative advantage does not guarantee better qualitative judgements. If it did, by the same logic, we should take the word of the earnest astrologer of 40 years' standing over the clear evidence that it's all baloney. Indeed, being deeply immersed may be a positive disadvantage, in that it might make it impossible to take a clear-sighted, impartial view. So Dawkins and his ilk are correct when they say that they are not obliged to become experts in theology in order to make criticisms of religion.
Of course, there is a level of ignorance that makes reasonable criticism impossible. But where that is the case, it should always be possible to point out what elementary mistake the critic has made. It is never reasonable to fob someone off on the basis that they do not understand: it is always necessary to explain what they do not understand. But also – and here's the rub – it's also essential to make it understandable. Rule one of intellectual engagement is that all parties must sincerely attempt both to understand others and to make themselves understood. It has become evident to me, however, that many people, especially the religious, suffer from a kind of conceptual claustrophobia. Their beliefs are of their essence somewhat vague and they are terrified of being pinned down. Although critics often leap on this and claim that this betrays woolly thinking, evasion or obscurantism, I think that there are times when such a refusal to commit is justified.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/commentisfree/belief/2011/nov/07/understand-my-religion-faith?fb=optOut