As mass protests erupted in Iran during the second week of January, 2026, Iran’s theocracy was on edge. That the protests stemmed from the dire economic conditions facing the people amid staggering inflation, including on basic food staples, rather than from foreign affairs, raises the question of whether religious clergy, including the “supreme leader,” Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, are competent in making economic policy. Without the ongoing political pressure that can come from constituents in a representative democracy, or republic, it is no surprise that the protests in Iran quickly became mass riots. In other words, bad economic policy by religious clerics in power in an autocracy can easily result in popular protests abruptly erupting into rioting. The overreaching of functionaries based in the domain of religion into politics (including economic policy), such that the distinctiveness of the two domains is ignored or obfuscated, can be distinguished from the problems that go with autocracy.
Friday, January 9, 2026
Iran’s Theocracy: An Uneasy Fusion of Religion and Political Economy
Sunday, January 4, 2026
An American Proto-Fascist Presbyterian Church
Mixing religion and politics can be a dangerous business, especially if done from the pulpit and backed up by fully-weaponized police poised in a worship space at the laity in the pews, and from the front so the congregants know they are being intensely watched even as the words, “Peace on earth” are shown on the big screen directly above one of the uniformed police employees. To my utter astonishment, I encountered just this scenario when I visited a large Presbyterian church in the U.S. early in 2026. A Christian who has read the Gospels might look askance at the weaponized, uniformed police in the sanctuary who were facing the people from near the front, and the television cameramen who were standing on the stage even very close to the altar, and think of Jesus castigating the money-changers and sacrifice-animal sellers operating inside the temple.
Sunday, December 28, 2025
Skepticism within Religion: A Prescription for Epistemological Humility
We tend to separate religion from
skepticism, and we associate science with evidence even though of religion and
science, only science is open to revision. Kierkegaard remarked that there is
something absurd about religious belief, and yet a religionist should believe,
and even without any evidence to back up the absurd. In fact, in the early-modern
period in the West, religious belief was often assumed to have a higher
epistemological status than philosophy and science even though the latter two
are supported by the strictures of reason and the support of empirical
evidence, respectively. I submit that it is precisely to the extent that religious
beliefs are held to be certain that we should be modest about them in terms of
what we can know. According to Peter Adamson, religions were once very open to
skepticism, whereas the Aristotelian philosophers were certain of their
epistemological certainty. Considering that varied assumptions have been
applied by philosophers to their craft, they should be weary of their own
claims of having achieved epistemological certainty. I contend that
religionists should get back to being more tolerant of, and even invite
skepticism, even within their own minds. Being humbly aware of falling short,
both as an individual and as a species, of grasping true religious knowledge as
it is, undeluded by our own limitations (e.g., opinions), is rarely the case as
religionists make declarations as if with epistemological certainty.
In a talk, Peter Adamson asked,
why does God allow us to be so ignorant? Why does God make us subject to error?
It must be for some reason, Descartes thought. The problem of ignorance is akin
to the problem of evil. Is the former just a sub-case of the latter? They may
be the same problem. I submit that even if the two problems are related or
relatable as being similar, the hatred that is endemic to evil is absent from
ignorance. Stated on a more secular basis, ignorance does not necessarily come with,
or spring from a bad attitude.
Nevertheless, Adamson viewed
ignorance in religious terms. To Augustine, ignorance is due to free-will amid
original sin. Also, the limited nature of creation is why knowledge is limited,
hence ignorance exists. A religious basis exists for ignorance in terms of people
tending to latch on to just some knowledge. Augustine’s Free Choice of the
Will does not insist on grace because Augustine had not yet encountered
Palagianism. In the text, Augustine is in dialogue with Evodius, a convert to
Christianity. Adam and Eve were created in a state “between wisdom and
foolishness.” In our fallen state, we are “born into ignorance, difficulty, and
mortality.” “Evil is turning away eternal things, . . . and instead pursuing
temporal things, which are perceived by means of the body.” Also, when desires
rule over the mind, “the mind is dragged by inordinate desire into ruin and
poverty . . .” This characterizes infants, according to Augustine. In short,
ignorance, which is synonymous with foolishness, exists due to free-will in the
state of original sin. But why then are Adam and Eve ignorant? To Augustine,
this is like complaining about the world because it is not as good as heaven.
Descartes wrote, “it is in the nature of a finite intellect to lack
understanding of many things, and it is in the nature of a created intellect to
be finite.” God certainly is not obligated to do more, and we are able to
obtain knowledge. According to Adamson, Stoics and neo-Platonists, including
Plotinus, have contended that individual evils are part of a good whole. According
to Leibniz, the best of all possible worlds reflects this philosophy. The upshot
is that human ignorance is just part of the best of all possible worlds that
God could create, so we should not blame God for our own ignorance. I contend
that it is important even when looking at scripture in a revealed religion to
keep in mind that human ignorance is not exempted on our end. Therefore, humility
in making religious claims, as if declarations, could greatly reduce the
typical impious air of infallibility on our end. Even if revelation does in
fact come from an intelligent being that transcends the limits of human
cognition, perception, and emotion, such news must travel through our fallible
atmosphere before we can make sense of the distinctively religious truth.
It follows that religious
accounting for human ignorance is not exhausted by one religion, or at least
that in humility human epistemology should be open to alternative accounts.
Even if one religion holds a monopoly on truth, the truth of this truth is not
contained within our purview. Accordingly, in his talk, Peter Adamson discussed
the religious account of Jainism, which is native to South Asia, with respect
to ignorance. Umasvati (4th to 5th century), for example,
author of the Tattvartha Sutra, was a Jain, so he was not a Brahmanic
thinker. On the topic of the human self, Jain thought is that the Brahmanic and
Buddhist philosophies are in part right and in part wrong. The Jains claim that
there is an eternal, changing self. Liberation means freedom from the cycle of
samsara and comes through “enlightened worldview, knowledge, and conduct,” so
one is not trapped in a one-sided view. Being non-violent, Jains didn’t want to
disagree too strenuously with others, but this explanation doesn’t fit with the
polemics in some Jain texts. Also, the Jains criticize a person having
one-sided knowledge. In addition to assertability, there is the notion of
unassertability. Omniscience refers to knowledge of all substances in all their
modes, past present, and future.” The path to knowledge is about elimination of
karmic bondage. Growth in knowledge involves the steady falling away of
one-sided thinking. Seeing the world from every perspective rather than from
only one is thus to be sought. Delusion
is at the root of ignorance, and is associated with having a one-sided view;
both are associated with karmic bondage, which keeps a person from liberation.
So rather than original sin from a Fall, which itself is premised on Creation, Adamson’s account of Jainism is that delusion is part of the unenlightened human condition, wherein we may tend to have one-sided views. Our knowledge and perspectives tend to be one-sided, and we are susceptible to being in bondage to them—even to being deluded that they are wholistic rather than partial. Both Augustine and Umasvati were skeptical concerning the pretensions of human knowledge. In his talk, Adamson added in Francis Bacon’s view, which is that Adam has perfectly functional cognitive faculties, whereas we, the fallen, do not. True knowledge is the province of divinity. I submit that religionists would greatly enhance their own credibility as purveyors of truth that is inherently sourced beyond our reach by humbly keeping in mind their own fallibility even and especially with regard to what is actually religious belief rather than knowledge, for if the content of religion were known, what place would faith have when the human mind enters into the religious domain?
Educating Scholarly Priests: The Cult at Yale
Speaking at a Bhakti-Yoga conference in March, 2025 at Harvard, Krishma Kshetra Swami said that scholars who are devoted to the academic study of religion are also undoubtedly also motivated by their religious faith, even if it is of a religion other than what the scholar is studying. The Swami himself was at the time both a scholar of Hinduism and a Krishna devotee. He was essentially saying that his academic study of Hinduism was motivated not just by the pursuit of knowledge, but also by (his) faith. He also stated that he, like the rest of us in daily life, typically separated his various identities, including that of a professor and a devotee of the Hindu god, Krishna. Although his two roles not contradictory in themselves, a scholar’s own religious beliefs, if fervently held, can act as a magnet of sorts by subtly swaying the very assumptions that a scholar holds about the phenomenon of religion (i.e., the knowledge in the academic discipline). To be sure, personally-held ideology acts with a certain gravity on any scholar’s study in whatever academic field. Religious studies, as well as political science, by the way, are especially susceptible to the warping of reasoning by ideology because beliefs can be so strongly held in religion (and politics), and the impact of such gravity can easily be missed not only by other people, but also by the scholars themselves.
The full essay is at "Educating Scholarly Priests."
Saturday, December 27, 2025
Conservatism in the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles
The Quorum is a high-level
governing body in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The Quorum “helps
set church policy while overseeing the many business interests of what is known
widely as the Mormon Church.”[1]
On December 27, 2025, Jeffrey R. Holland, “a high-ranking official . . . who
was next in line to become the faith’s president,” died.[2]
He was 85. To be at that age and yet next in line to lead a major Christian
denomination is a sign of just how tilted toward the elderly the leadership of
that Church was at the time. Almost exactly three months earlier, Russell M.
Nelson, the then-sitting president of the denomination, died at the age of 101.
Dallin H. Oaks, at the age of 93, became the next president. These ages make 75,
the mandatory retirement age for Roman Catholic bishops, look young, though
Pope John Paul II died at 84 and Pope Francis died at 88—both men while in
office. Especially in Christianity, whose Gospels depict Jesus and his
disciples as much younger men, the question of whether an aged leadership unduly
foists conservatism on what in the Gospels is characterized as a radical
religious movement.
In 2020, a group of
researchers put the old adage that people tend to become more conservative as
they age to the test. Contrary to the folk adage, the study found that
political attitudes tend to be stable over time; however, when attitudes do
change, “liberals are more likely to become conservatives than conservatives are
to become liberals, suggesting that folk wisdom has some empirical basis even
though it overstates the degree of change.”[3]
Regarding religion, research indicates people tend to become more religious as
they age, but this doesn’t answer the question of whether a person’s
religious beliefs become more conventional or orthodox within a religious
institution as the person ages. Simply put, are older people in a congregation more
likely to “upset the apple cart.” To the extent that living through decades has
a thickening effect on the idealism of the youth because the inertia of status
quo, whether of an organization or a society, is difficult to move, even with a
faith that can move mountains.
As a complication, the influx
of social ideology (e.g., social issues) into the religious domain can make orthodox
religious believers seem more or less conservative. I have argued elsewhere
that the overreaching of social ideology onto the religious domain minimizes or
ignores the sui generis nature of both domains. Based on the study on political
ideology changing over time as a person ages, it seems reasonable to posit that
a person’s social ideology is most likely to stay constant, but when it
changes, it is more likely to get more conservative. It is important not to
omit the possibility, however, that very old people can surprise us and actually
shake things up a bit in leading a religious organization.
Russell Nelson “was revered as
a prophet” even though he was “the oldest serving head of the church” when he
died at 101.[4] If
the label of prophet resembles the prophets in the Hebrew scriptures, the
implication is that Nelson spoke truth to power. It may be going too far to say
that his time at the helm of the denomination “will forever be remembered as
one of . . . profound change” because he emphasized global ministry and
increased temple construction.[5]
The need to temper the magnitude of the change reflects the empirical results
of the study on changes in political attitudes discussed above. For instance,
in 2019, when Nelson was in his mid-90s, “the church made a surprise move . . .
by pledging to roll back a series of anti-LGBT policies introduced in 2015 that
had reportedly led to 1,500 people leaving the [denomination] in protest.”[6]
That the motivation to roll back the anti-gay policies may have had something
to do with the loss of membership, and thus money, tempers the magnitude of the
shift in the social ideology in the Church’s leadership. Attention to finances
can itself be construed as conservative. Furthermore, reversing the ban on
children of same-sex parents being baptized and the expulsion of gay members
who are married are not as surprising as the announcement that the denomination
would perform gay-marriage ceremonies would have been.
That rolling back two policies
does not count as profound change is also supported by the fact that just
two years later, Holland gave a speech “in which he called on church members to
take up metaphorical muskets in defense of the faith’s teaching against same-sex
marriage.”[7]
That the speech “became required reading for BYU freshmen in 2024” is itself an
indication that the social ideology in the Church’s governing body and
leadership had not changed.
That both Nelson and Holland
opposed homosexuality even as two policies were rolled back does not mean that
those men had become more conservative, and that were younger men in charge,
the Church’s stance on the social issue would have been more progressive in
2019. Therefore, this case study should not be used to argue that because Jesus
and his disciples are characterized as middle-aged in the Gospels, Christian
denominations should be led by young or middle-aged people or else the
radicalism of the movement in the Gospels can be expected to be hampered by old
men at the helm. In fact, that Nelson did so much—albeit not necessarily of
profound change—in the last decade of his life in leading his denomination
qualifies the typical assumption that people over 85 should be put out to
pasture because they cannot possibly make a difference, whether to an
organization or a society.
Nevertheless, the finding that
when political attitudes do change as a person ages, most often this results in
a more conservative ideology, means that young and middle-aged people can be
included at the highest level of an organization so to counteract or balance
out the admittedly mitigated tendency. In other words, the elderly can make contributions
as organizational leaders and are not necessarily more conservative than they
were, so the need to balance out excessive conservativism, due to age, with
younger leaders, is less though it does exist to some extent. The tendency of
the elderly to resist giving up some power to younger members is thus something
to watch out for in church governance, but the elders need not be replaced
altogether as a prerequisite for religious organizations to be able to adapt to
a changed environment at least to some extent so to be able to survive. It is
not as though a denomination must adopt a progressive social ideology, which I submit
is extrinsic through related to religion anyway, in order to survive; rather,
the mitigated, or muted, tendency of people to become more conservative with
age should itself be countered institutionally in terms of there being ways of
including young and middle-aged members at the highest organizational level of
leadership and governance. Generally speaking, the tyranny of the status quo should
be countered so both change and constancy can have a chance at swaying the day.
2. Ibid.
3. Johnathan Peterson, Kevin Smith, and John R. Hibbing, “Do People Really Become More Conservative as They Age?” The Journal of Politics, Vol. 82, No. 2 (April, 2020), pp. 600-11.
4. Nadine Yousif, “Russell M. Nelson, Head of Church of Latter-day Saints, Dies Aged 101,” BBC.com, 29 September, 2025.
5. Ibid.
6. Ibid.
7. Ibid.
Friday, December 26, 2025
The Scarlet and the Black
In the film, The Scarlet and the Black (1983), Gregory Peck and Christopher Plummer face off as Monsignor Hugh O’Flaherty and Col. Herbert Kapper at the end of the film when the Nazi head of police in Rome abruptly changes his tune in challenging the Catholic priest no longer by threats, but by appealing to the priest’s faith of humble compassion applied even to one’s enemies so O’Flaherty will extend mercy to Kapper’s wife and children, who would otherwise fall into the hands of the Allied troops advancing into Rome. Before that dialogue, O’Flaherty and Pope Pius XII subtly debate whether the pope had been right in compromising with Hitler in order to keep the Catholic Church intact in Nazi Germany. The film can thus be viewed in light of the potential of the medium of film to convey and even thrash out contending theological ideas.
The full essay is at "The Scarlet and the Black."
Thursday, December 25, 2025
Pope Leo’s First Christmas Message: On International Relations
That severe, systematic inflictions of suffering on whole peoples were going on in the world even on Christmas Day in 2025 did not require a papal announcement for people the world over to be informed of those atrocities. Russia’s military incursion in Ukraine and Israel’s genocide in Gaza had been going on with international impunity for years. The suffering in Yemen and Sudan was less well-known, but substantial nonetheless. Speaking out against the sordid state-aggressors on the first Christmas of his pontificate, the pope provided an alternative basis for international relations that is so antithetical to military invasion and genocide that the message could seem utopian and thus practically of no use whatsoever. Because “might makes right” had made such unimpeded “progress” even in becoming the default and status-quo, the principle of humble compassion to the humanity to one’s detractors and even outright enemies could seem like a fairy tale.
Nevertheless, even though the principle was so utterly eclipsed in
practice on the world’s stage at the time, a person can have faith that even enunciating
the alternative has value. At the very least, making it explicit shows powerful
people such as Russia’s Putin and Israel’s Netanyahu in an especially dark
light. Ironically, were either of those men to come to terms with themselves
and change their ways, the principle would call the rest of us to forgive them.
Even absent such a change-of-heart, or a dawning of heart in those two
men, the principle mandates that the rest of us respond in humane compassion
even to those two men on an interpersonal level should either of them need
help. Such is the depth of power of the principle that it can be reckoned as
inculcating what can be called divine nature even if the principle is not anthropomorphized
in human form; the principle has validity, and thus value, in itself. So even
if it seems utterly unrealistic for it to become the default in international
relations (and even interpersonal relations), there is value in the pope’s inclusion
of the principle in his first Christmas message.
In his Christmas Day homily,
Pope Leo “remembered the people of Gaza, ‘exposed for weeks to rain, wind and
cold’ and the fragility of ‘defenseless populations, tried by so many wars,’
and of ‘young people forced to take up arms, who on the front lines feel the
senselessness of what is asked of them, and the falsehoods that fill the
pompous speeches of those who send them to their deaths.’”[1]
The infliction of genocide, and even such suffering as to qualify as a
holocaust, on a defenseless civilian population that had been subjugated for many
decades, render Israel’s Netanyahu government and its supports equivalent to
the Nazis in Europe almost a century earlier. The very language used by the pope,
as in “the pompous speeches of those who send them to their deaths” could
definitely be applied to Hitler and Netanyahu.
The sheer depravity of such powerful men who have allowed their respective hatreds to manifest in atrocities without any internal restraint is antipodal to a person who “would truly enter into the suffering of others and stand in solidarity with the weak and the oppressed.”[2] It is paradoxical that such outwardly powerful, militaristic government officials are actually so weak internally, whereas people who are willing to defer “before the humanity of others”—even and especially detractors and even enemies—may have no worldly force yet are very strong internally.[3]
Therefore, it is of value for anyone, especially a pope with a microphone, to set the stubborn
savagery of men like Putin and Netanyahu relative to a principle that, if internalized
and acted on by enough people, would change the world even though the
likelihood of such a drastic, fundamental change is only possible rather than
probable. Being possible is itself astonishing, given the fixity of human
nature. Worldwide, peoples and their respective government officials in 2023 failed
to retain the lesson that had presumably been learned when the Nazi holocaust
was exposed in 1945. Standing by rather than going in to rid Gaza of the
Israelis and even Ukraine of the Russian army can be reckoned as instantiating
the banality of evil, which is two degrees of separation from the principle of humble
compassion for the humanity of others, especially one’s enemies. The world, and
humanity itself—our species—can thus be condemned for standing by instead of
stopping at least the holocaustic genocide that had been going on for years as
of Christmas, 2025.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.

