Spiritual borrowing is the process of transplanting spiritual and religious practices from one religion to another…and it can be a tricky business.
Why?
Well, whether implicitly or explicitly, you have to answer the question “Just how much of the original theology/philosophy that shaped the practice gets transferred with it?”
The answer to that question depends on the practice, the religions involved, and the personality of the individual.
Still, history has many examples and paths of borrowing for us to consider.
First, there is the route of fusion of religions or philosophies, known as syncretism. Beautiful and interesting examples of this route exist in Baha’i, Cao Di, Theosophy, and, arguably, Hinduism as a grouping together of multitudinous tribal and village rituals into an overarching religion in India by the colonizing British.
Second, there is the more subtle route of the appropriation of the tangible actions of a practice along with theological/philosophical reinterpretation of the reasons for using the practice. For instance, Buddhists were using prayer beads long before Christians and Muslims, but each religion sets forth far different purposes for their use. Indeed, since the beads are basically a means of keeping count of something repetitive, they lend themselves to multipurpose use. Another example is how daily calls to prayer, now so closely associated with the Islamic faith, began as the daily hours in Christian monasteries in the lands conquered by the prophet Muhammad and his early successors.
One other major route is a much more personal form of spiritual borrowing. Individuals often pick and choose different practices and specific beliefs based on personal preference rather than subscribe to one overarching system of faith (or in addition to a specific system of faith). This form of spiritual borrowing was first labeled “Sheilaism” in light of the story below:
“Sheila Larson is a young nurse who has received a good deal of therapy and describes her faith as ‘Sheilaism.’ This suggests the logical possibility of more than 235 million American religions, one for each of us. ‘I believe in God,’ Sheila says. ‘I am not a religious fanatic. [Notice at once that in our culture any strong statement of belief seems to imply fanaticism so you have to offset that.] I can’t remember the last time I went to church. My faith has carried me a long way. It’s Sheilaism. Just my own little voice.’ Sheila’s faith has some tenets beyond belief in God, though not many. In defining what she calls ‘my own Sheilaism,’ she said: ‘It’s just try to love yourself and be gentle with yourself. You know, I guess, take care of each other. I think God would want us to take care of each other.’ Like many others, Sheila would be willing to endorse few more specific points.” (Robert Bellah, et al., Habits of the Heart, 1985)
Okay, so all of that is spiritual borrowing, but what difference does it make?
So what?
It matters because the world is shrinking — no, not literally, well, maybe. At one point in history, you might go your whole life without meeting someone from another faith. Now, we meet them every day. We work with them. Our kids play together. We hang out together.
Spiritual borrowing used to be about small, subtle changes happening over generations. That’s no longer the case. In our current climate of cultural exchange and the multiplicity of religions and spiritual paths, borrowing spiritual practices is a way of meeting the “other” on equal footing — perhaps, it is even a way of admitting that the lines are fuzzy between “us” and “them.” After all, when you look at it, it’s just one world.
Something to think about…