The third point is even more fundamental. And it has to do with religion’s role in nation-building. We all are familiar with how religion has contributed immensely to the fragmentation of the Nigerian polity. The constant conflict and theological and political opposition, especially between Islam and Christianity, has continued to be the source of tension in the continuing attempt by successive governments to facilitate the project of achieving One Nigeria devoid of ethnic and religious animosity.

Here, the spectre of theological absolutism rears its ugly head! In summary, this is the belief that one religion holds the key to the understanding of God’s plan for humans and the eternity. One immediately sees how and why such an absolutist claim (ostensibly canonised to foreclose regression of the faiths into syncretism), held by Islam and Christianity, could be the source of practices that undermine any ecumenical or inter-faith relations in Nigeria. Theological absolutism excludes other religions and their perspectives on the relationship between God and humans.

I have always been deeply suspicious of theological absolutism, especially when it concerns my quest for an understanding of how God and humans interact. If God is all we have been saying about Him—the eternal and the divine that is unknowable sufficiently by the human mind—how then can one religion capture the entire essence of that God?

My worry is even more aggravated within the complicity of Christianity, Islam and other faiths in Nigeria’s underdevelopment. The fundamental question is simple enough: How can Nigeria achieve a civic national space of mutual relations if religions eschew open-minded and ecumenical relationship with one another? Or, how can they step into the breach as a collective spiritual panacea to Nigeria’s myriad postcolonial predicaments if they attempt to exclude and cancel out one another as “false”?

Indeed, for me, the combination of the caricaturing of the Christian faith mentioned earlier, as well as the refusal by many clerics to engage in ecumenical conversation, serves as the basis for my conviction that Christianity has arrived at a reformation point that explores its complexity and significance in a context like Nigeria.

But then, I still have to content with my own attachment to Christianity and its construction of itself as the only religion that guarantees eternal life through the work of salvation done by Christ. How do I navigate Christianity’s theological absolutism without falling into the trap of excluding other faith from their attachment to their convictions? How am I not part of the refusal of inter-faith relations that I am suspicious about? These are crucial and fair questions for any Christian or even Muslim.

Indeed, I had the conviction very early in my spiritual trajectory that the believer’s pilgrim journey is strictly personal and self-validating. And this validation is achieved through personal experience of faith and theological conviction, and the guidance of spiritual mentors and masters in the faith.

And here, I return to role of reason in my spiritual discernment. While I hold firmly to the limitation of reason in grasping spiritual enlightenment, I equally put a lot of weight on how limited human understanding of the vast stretch of mysteries not only behind the Christian faith but also in the universe as a whole.

When the Bible, in I Corinthians 2:14, therefore insists that the natural understanding cannot grasp spiritual matters, I read this not only as the extension of the domain of faith beyond that of logic and reason. It is also the strategy for trusting my Christian faith to assist me in navigating my existential predicament without limiting others’ right to their own spiritual paths.

More precisely, acknowledging, for instance, Christianity’s insistence on the role of Christ in God’s plan of reconciliation and redemption, does not necessarily imply invalidating other religions’ existence and spiritual understanding.

This is the firm implication of saying that the spiritual journey is deeply personal and self-validating. When I accept Christ’s injunction in John 14:6—“I am the way, the truth, and the life”—I accept it for myself as a pathway to spiritual meaning. And yet that injunction does not stand alone. It is wrapped in a complex relationship with other injunctions that insists that I must love my neighbours, give unto Ceasar what belongs to Ceasar, and pray for those in government.
Concluded.
Olaopa is chairman, Federal Civil Service Commission and Professor of Public Administration, Abuja.