Kathryn Tanner joins Kristian Petersen to discuss her award-winning 2020 book, Christianity and the New Spirit of Capitalism (Yale University Press, 2019). Through the book, Tanner suggests Christianity can challenge the culture of finance capitalism that permeates our lives by guiding us to reflect on social inequalities and identity-building—concepts which she argues are at the core of Christian faith and practice. In the interview, she discusses how "Christianity and specific forms of it could gum up the works of capitalism."

Tanner's book won AAR's 2020 Award for Excellence in the Study of Religion in the constructive-reflective studies category. She is Frederick Marquand Professor of Systematic Theology at Yale Divinity School.

American Academy of Religion · Christianity and the New Spirit of Capitalism with Kathryn Tanner

Jihad is more often than not translated as “holy war” in the Western media. This translation immediately conveys the impression that jihad by definition is war waged for religious reasons, particularly to forcefully replace all other religions with Islam. The term also conveys the impression that it is a fundamental religious duty imposed on all Muslims till the end of time, or at least until they have brought about the conversion of all non-Muslims—whichever comes first! A few news outlets and journalists exercise greater responsibility: they take care to translate jihad as “struggle” or “effort” and occasionally mention the different ways in which this human struggle is carried out during one’s earthly existence.

One should be aware of the specific political and historical circumstances that determine whether the military jihad receives a favorable spin in the Western media or not. Between 1979 and 1989 under a program known as Operation Cyclone, the United States government actively supported the group known as the Mujahedeen in Afghanistan who were fighting against the Soviet occupation forces there. “Those who carry out jihad” (this is what Mujahedeen means in Arabic) were portrayed favorably in the American and European press at that time because they were assumed to be fighting on the right side—that is to say, against the dark forces of Communism and thus serving the interests of Western nations. One may recall a notable James Bond movie titled The Living Daylights that celebrated the heroic exploits of the Mujahedeen, led by an Oxford-educated swashbuckling Afghan, who fought shoulder-to-shoulder with British allies against the Communist invaders. The movie Rambo III similarly portrayed the Mujahedeen in a highly favorable light. “Jihad” carried out at the instigation of Western governments at that time was, therefore, considered to be a noble activity. The Western media (and the movie industry) accordingly played along.

Despite the Japanese constitution guaranteeing religious freedom since 1889, after World War II, the United States-occupiers deemed that guarantee flawed. In this conversation with, Jolyon Thomas, author of Faking Liberties: Religious Freedom in American-Occupied Japan shares how the US imposed a new framework of religious freedom onto the Japanese, one that favored some traditions more than others.

Thomas's "Faking Liberties" was co-winner of the AAR's 2020 Analytical-Descriptive Studies Award for the Excellence in the Study of Religion. He is associate professor of religious studies at the University of Pennsylvania.

The jury for the AAR's annual Journalism Awards recently announced the 2021 journalism award winners: Jaweed Kaleem, Jeff Sharlet, and Adelle Banks. Read more about the winners and their reporting.

“Come on. You’ve got to find your voice!,” erupted Dr. James Cone during one of my advisement sessions when I studied at Union Theological Seminary. Leaning over his desk, my professor’s physical presence was just as animated as his vision, challenging me to claim my uniqueness.

Who, me? I thought. The founder of Black liberation theology and author of God of the Oppressed is telling me—the effeminate, white, gay seminarian who used to live in a trailer on a desert farm in Fallon, Nevada—to find my voice? Where do I look?