Teacher Sun,
I am Gu Chu, from the Class of ’04 Philosophy. Since I am not good at debate, when discussing things I inevitably fail to express myself adequately, whereas when I write, my train of thought becomes clearer. So now I am writing this letter in an attempt to explain my point of view once more.
First of all, I hope you will certainly not misunderstand me as debating for the sake of debate; that is indeed very uninteresting. I do not even like debating in order to attack other people’s views; I only like debating in order to defend my own views. I am a very clear pluralist, or, more precisely, a perspectivalist different from the usual kind of relativist.
Let me briefly introduce my own academic interests: I have chosen the philosophy of science and technology as my direction, and in the future I hope to do academic work. My main fields in the future will probably be philosophy of science, sociology of science, science and religion, and ecological philosophy. Although I am not myself a believer in any religion, I do have quite strong religious sentiments, and on the whole I hope to speak well of religion. At the same time, I also love science, especially mathematics and physics; I studied the sciences in middle school. Although I mainly approach the topic of “science and religion” from the standpoint of the history of science and the philosophy of science, this clearly has a close connection with religious studies. In addition, ecological philosophy and environmental ethics are also inextricably linked with religious questions. What directly drew my attention to “sociology of religion,” however, was my understanding of sociology of science. Sociology of science arose later than sociology of religion, and likewise attracted much attention. Many of the problems it faced when it emerged feel strikingly familiar when set against sociology of religion: for example, what is science/religion? Is one qualified to study it from an “external” perspective? Is science/religion merely a social construction? Is science/religion irreplaceable? Is science/religion indispensable? Is the “choice” of science/religion rational or irrational? And so on.
Let me return to the topic we discussed in class. In fact, however I may put it, what I am trying to explain is that the focal point of my disagreement with you is not the same as yours. I have no objection at all to the definition given by Teacher Sun. Still, if I must say so, I feel that this definition seems perhaps too “smooth,” even “cunning,” to the point that it leaves one unable to raise even a single objection—almost as if it were trying to balance and take into account all sides of the issue, with more suppleness than edge.
The reason I personally tend toward a functional definition is directly connected with my own perspective and interests. Below I will try to explain this a little more clearly:
What is the point of defining religion? First of all, I certainly do not agree that the purpose of defining is to provide a universally applicable standard; a definition only serves the research I am about to carry out. Therefore, the orientation one takes in defining is actually related to the research topic. If the main purpose of my research concerns the “problem of demarcation,” namely what exactly is religion and what is not, then naturally one should incline more toward a “substantive definition”; however, when dealing with other topics, one perhaps ought to emphasize a “functional definition” instead.
Actually, I feel that grouping many viewpoints under a functional “definition” of religion is not especially accurate; perhaps it would be better understood as an “explanation” or “account.” Such an “account” is different both from Durkheim’s clear-cut, necessary-and-sufficient-condition definition of “religion = XXX,” and from Weber’s evasion. Unlike Weber, however, a functional account of religion can also serve the purpose of “stating the main point at the outset,” making clear from the beginning what issues I am concerned with, and likewise avoiding arbitrariness in research.
For example, if we look at Tillich’s “ultimate concern,” then, as Tillich himself said: “For you, that which is of ultimate concern or that which matters most is in any case your lord. Beliefs, feelings, attitudes, and practices built around ultimate concern constitute your true religious life—regardless of whether you belong to a religious institution.” It can be seen that religion “defined” by ultimate concern is much broader than religion as ordinarily understood, because “belonging to a religious institution” becomes a secondary matter. Luckmann’s “invisible religion” has a similar feature.
I think that the reason they did not hesitate to make “definition” so broad has to do with the perspective from which they were addressing the question. From the outset, what they were concerned with was not “religion” itself, but religious issues related to it. For example, Tillich’s focus may not have been to investigate the present condition or rise and fall of various large and small religions, but rather to concentrate on the problem of “ultimate concern” in modern society—for instance, the absence, transformation, and diversification of ultimate concern. “Ultimate concern,” not religion, is the core issue he is discussing.
The subtitle of Luckmann’s The Invisible Religion is “The Religious Problem in Modern Society,” and the word “problem” is also quite prominent. In the introduction (p. 5 of the Chinese translation), Luckmann states the point quite explicitly: “The problem of individual existence in society is a religious problem. Therefore, we believe that sociology’s connection with contemporary people comes mainly from sociology’s exploration of the understanding of the fate of the individual in the structure of modern society.” Luckmann says (p. 12): “Once sociology of religion uncritically takes for granted the view that equates church with religion, it will ignore most of its relevant problems. It has already presupposed the answer to the following question: in contemporary society, besides traditional institutionalized religious doctrines, is there any socially objectified structure of meaning that can function to validate everyday life routines and the crises of everyday life? Therefore, sociology of religion has failed to give its full attention to the most important, essentially religious dimension of the individual’s position in society.”
It can be seen that Luckmann consciously broadens the “definition” of religion, because in his view, if one limits religious questions to a definition of religion in terms of the traditional “visible,” church-centered conception, then one will overlook some of the distinctive religious problems of modern society. Likewise, he first focuses on and revolves around these problems, and only then turns his gaze toward religion.
What are the consequences of this deliberate broadening? I think this kind of broadening does not result in there being “more religion,” but rather in there being more “religious problems.” Even when one says one is “seeing” science or ideology as religion, this absolutely does not mean science = religion; rather, it means regarding certain problems of science or ideology as religious problems—for example, the rise of scientism, technological worship, the mechanistic view of nature, nihilism, and so on can all be analyzed as religious problems. Here, “religious problems” does not mean “problems within (some particular religion or religions),” but rather religion-like problems. As for what counts as a religion-like problem, that depends on the so-called “functional definition” of religion.
It can be said that sociology of religion in this sense has a different problematic, and its methods and line of thought are also quite distinct. There should be no question of superiority or inferiority—only of being born from different perspectives.
Whatever one thinks of their views, the works of Tillich and Luckmann were in any case important influences. I think that true giants would never shrink back simply because the views they put forward “would be recognized by no one.” Quite the contrary: from the point of view of Western scholarship, a school-forming theory usually not only does not shrink back, but often deliberately seeks novelty and distinctiveness. For example, when the sociology of scientific knowledge (SSK) first emerged, it went to great lengths to draw a sharp line between itself and the then-popular Mertonian school of sociology of science, putting forward many extremely one-sided, sharp-edged, even sensational theories. By now, SSK has firmly established itself in British and American academia, completely eclipsing the Merton school and traditional philosophy of science; in order to deepen and perfect its theoretical system, its propositions have instead gradually become more balanced. This sort of phenomenon is quite similar throughout the rise and decline of many schools.
Whether one regards ideology or science, of course neither of them is religion. But what I have always wanted to express is this: there are religious problems in all this, and there are topics here that can be used for discussion in sociology of religion. For example, in The Invisible Religion, Luckmann devotes a certain amount of space to discussing ideology (around p. 98). He never thought that ideology is religion, but it can still be discussed within the topics of his sociology of religion, and his conclusion is precisely that because institutional ideology cannot replace religion, it is bound to fail—“In the long run, isolated institutional ‘ideologies’ cannot provide socially pre-fabricated and subjectively meaningful ‘ultimate’ systems of meaning.” (p. 98) Similarly, looking at “science” from the perspective of religion also allows us to explore in what senses science may perform the “functions” of religion, and in what senses it differs from religion. Thus, when studying topics such as “science and religion” or “science and society,” which concern the functions and meanings of science and its relations with other fields, one can make use of the resources and approaches of sociology of religion, or even comparative religious studies. That is what I mean by “seeing science as religion” or “looking at science from a religious perspective.”
Last semester I wrote a discussion outline entitled “Science—Viewed from the Perspective of Religion” (not written as a paper, so the views are rather casual). Although it has nothing to do with sociology of religion, I am still sending it to you as an attachment for reference; perhaps it may help express my perspective in the form of an example.
July 20, 2006
The email I sent earlier was a bit long-winded. Just now I thought of a concise and clear way of putting it:
When it comes to doing what is called “sociology of religion,” there are actually two very different aims. One takes religion as the object of study and sociology as the method, that is, looking at religion through society—for example, revealing the social nature of religion, and so on. The other takes society as the core problem and religion as the perspective, that is, looking at society through religion—for example, discussing the religious problems of modern society, and so on. The former analyzes religion with society, the latter analyzes society with religion; the difference is quite clear. Durkheim probably leans toward the former, Weber perhaps stands somewhere in the middle, while Luckmann obviously leans toward the latter. These two angles should be compatible and mutually enriching, and both can be included within the category of “sociology of religion,” but in specific research their methods and emphases should be quite different.
July 21, 2006
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
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