Dialogue or proclamation? Communication ethics and the problem of persuasion in mission

Introduction

There is a perpetual tension in the field of mission studies between dialogue and proclamation. As the missionary enters into new cultures with the desire to proclaim the Kingdom of God in word and deed, there is the necessity of dialoguing with the contrasting religious beliefs that undergird these new cultures. Tension occurs through the process of negotiating the intrinsic value of these beliefs and the ways in which proclaiming Jesus Christ may correct and amend such beliefs. Focusing purely on dialogue may mitigate the importance of the gospel and the missionary imperative, while focusing purely on proclamation may devalue human agency, leading to coercion. This tension is evidenced in the history of 20th-century Vatican documents pertaining to mission, with Nostra Aetate clearly emphasizing interreligious dialogue, and Redemtoris Missio and Dominus Iesus marking a course correction towards proclamation and mission. ¹ Roger Schroeder elucidates this tension: “Christ as the ‘face’ of God is the means of salvation for all, and God is drawing all peoples back to God in ways we don’t understand. Ignoring the first can lead to relativism, while ignoring the second can lead to fundamentalism” (2013: 57).

Underlying this tension is a disagreement over a proper communication ethic. Specifically, it is the problem of persuasion—whether it is ethical to persuade, and in what context might it be ethical to persuade. Because communication ethics undergirds this tension, this article will utilize current debates within the field of communication ethics to help better understand the challenges of dialogue and proclamation. The article begins by showing how a particular form of communication ethic, invitational rhetoric, coheres with a form of interreligious dialogue promoted by John Cobb. Such cohesion will enable a critique of interreligious dialogue utilizing similar critiques levied at invitational rhetoric. Following this critique will be a brief recovery and strengthening of a notion of proclamation as persuasion and purgation, with the aid of portions of Augustine’s and Kenneth Burke’s rhetorical theories.

The emergence of interreligious dialogue in the West

In order to help demonstrate that the tension between dialogue and proclamation is grounded in communication ethics, I will chart a brief history of the emergence of interreligious dialogue in Christian theology, showing how its development can be seen as a type of application of the communication ethic known as invitational rhetoric.

The concept of dialogue emerged through critical reflection of Western theological and colonial mentalities in the wake of World War II. The implicit superiority of Enlightenment ideals was challenged by the sheer enormity of violence perpetuated on the European continent, and the theological superiority of the West was equally challenged by the erosion of Christianity from within its European strongholds. With this, “the Eurocentric view of the world and of the Church lost its persuasiveness, undermining the territorial concept of mission at its root” (Baldi, 2010: 289).

The concept of interreligious dialogue emerged out of these critiques, both by those who wished to qualify the concept of mission and those that wished to abolish it. Dialogue emphasized the intrinsic value of other persons and their religious beliefs, and the value in interpersonal encounters with others in their difference (Dupuis, 2002: 7). Interreligious dialogue stresses encounter rather than confrontation, the conversion to the other rather than the conversion of the other. Such an emphasis addressed both the theological anxieties of a post-Enlightenment West and the de facto religious pluralism that emerged out of globalization, but it also created a profound issue for the concept of mission, as dialogue seemed to be at odds with the long-held Christian belief in gospel proclamation. Some sought to submerge mission into the concept of dialogue, eliminating the need for proclamation altogether. Following the postmodern rejection of any universal and univocal beliefs, theologians began stressing the inherent salvific character of other religions, and the rejection of certain forms of evangelization as intrinsically coercive. Here, dialogue is preeminent, and absolutist claims to truth only erect barriers to such dialogue. The affirmation of the truth claims of all religions, coupled with the intrinsic truth and goodness of other religions, demands an interreligious dialogue purged of the absolutist claims of proclamation.

While there are a wide range of views on interreligious dialogue, I will focus particularly on the work of John Cobb, though I will also show how his position is echoed in similar (though not identical) voices, including Paul Knitter and Jacques Dupuis. John Cobb elucidates several components of his view of interreligious dialogue, three of which are particularly pertinent for their similarity to invitational rhetoric.

First, dialogue is primarily about understanding the other. The principal purpose of interreligious dialogue is to fully enter into the experience of the religious other: “The purpose of dialogue . . . is to encounter living representatives of an alien religious Way—individuals who find that Way adequate and salvific but who are also involved in the continuing process of understanding it in an ever changing situation” (Cobb, 1982: xi).

Second, there must be a willingness to complete openness before entering into dialogue. Absolutist claims must be put aside, allowing their own beliefs to be challenged. “[I]ndeed, to exempt any belief—even focal/constitutive beliefs in an a priori fashion from such radical change . . . is an expression of a lack of faith” (Wiebe, 1986: 146). This belief is echoed by Paul Knitter in his assertion that interreligious conversations must be entered into without any “prepackaged final word” (D’Costa, 2010: 336). It is important to note that this openness does not necessarily entail a type of homogenization of belief—Cobb leaves room for the expression of robust and unique beliefs—yet even these distinct beliefs cannot be held in an absolutizing manner. Universalizing claims to truth can be upheld, yet they should not be relativized or used to reject universalizing claims from other religions: “Hence, in principle, the universal claims of both Buddhism and Christianity may be true. Rather than relativizing both . . . one may affirm both. One may do so . . . because they are answers to different questions and suggest different goals for human life” (Cobb, 2010: 22).

Third, and most important for our analysis, is the rejection of proselytization and the desire to convert others to a specific religious community. One cannot enter into dialogue with the explicit purpose of converting others. The relationship between conversion, mission, and dialogue remains murky in Cobb’s writings (Wiebe, 1986: 147), but it can best be characterized as a de-emphasis of intentional evangelization in favor of a more inclusive notion of mission as dialogue. In addition, the notion of conversion is primarily used in regards to self-transformation and mutual conversion. This echoes Jacques Dupuis’s explanation of conversion: “Thus dialogue does not serve as a means to a further end. Neither on one side nor on the other does it tend to the ‘conversion’ of one’s partner to one’s own religious tradition. Rather it tends toward a deeper conversion of each to God” (2002: 234).

Invitational rhetoric and interreligious dialogue

The history of modern rhetorical studies bears a striking resemblance to the history of missiology in 20th-century Christianity. This is unsurprising given the modern and postmodern philosophical underpinnings of both rhetoric and Christian theology. The postmodern rejection of universally held truths as intrinsically coercive presented a potent challenge to a field of study centered upon theories of persuasion, threatening to dismiss the discipline outright as simply an exercise in domination perpetuated by the colonial West. One of the most prominent critiques of rhetoric as persuasion comes from Sonja Foss and Cindy Griffin’s “Beyond persuasion: a proposal for invitational rhetoric.” Foss and Griffin argue that traditional rhetorical theories of persuasion are based upon the desire to change the other for the sake of acquiring power and authority over the other: “Embedded in efforts to change others is a desire for control and domination, for the act of changing another establishes the power of the change agent over that other” (1995: 3). The goal of the rhetor is to affect change in another, and the reward for such effort is a “rush of power” gained from the acquisition of power over the other (1995: 3).

In response to these critiques, Foss and Griffin propose a model of “invitational rhetoric” centered upon the feminist principles of equality, immanent value, and self-determination. Invitational rhetoric involves dialogue in which each speaker presents their perspectives in a nonhierarchical, nonjudgmental environment. The audience attempts to see from the perspective of that speaker, allowing themselves to be open, and validating that perspective even if such a perspective differs drastically from their own (1995: 5). The result is not the further understanding of a particular issue (although that may occur), but rather the further understanding of the participants themselves. What is involved is an offering of personal narrative, not with the intention of convincing, but simply for the sake of offering: “The offering of personal narrative is itself the goal” (1995: 7).

We can see in this description several key principles shared by John Cobb and others who prioritize interreligious dialogue over proclamation. In many ways, Cobb’s form of interreligious dialogue can be viewed as a religious application of invitational rhetoric. First, in both invitational rhetoric and Cobb’s interreligious dialogue, there is a priority upon the understanding of the other, rather than on the value judgment of the other’s opinions. The goal is primarily not about coming to a consensus on particular ideas, but rather upon a deeper understanding of the personhood, beliefs, and worldview of the other.

Second, in both there is a call for intentional openness. Those entering into both religious dialogue and invitational rhetoric are called to a greater awareness of the ways in which their beliefs may cause impediments to understanding, and “seek to minimize or neutralize them so they do not remain impediments” (Foss and Griffin, 1995: 6). This does not mean that one must change their beliefs a priori, but rather that one must be open to change, so as to prevent any impediments. As Cobb puts it, “we will undertake to formulate our own teachings in ways that discourage any sense of our own superiority or negative attitudes towards others” (2010: 21).

Third, both invitational rhetoric and interreligious dialogue have as their foundational assumptions that intentional attempts to change another’s opinions are intrinsically coercive and violent. For Cobb, proselytization has been utilized as part of Christianity’s larger collusion with colonialism as a way for the West to exert control over its missional and colonial targets. Here, absolutist beliefs in Heaven and Hell prompted conversion attempts that were domineering and violent. Such beliefs “led conscientious Christians to engage in strenuous efforts to convert those who did not believe. It often prompted this conversion in some separation from the concern for justice and righteousness. Conscientious Christians have done much evil because of this set of doctrines” (2010: 17). Similarly, invitational rhetoric is grounded in a belief that efforts to convince, even in mild cases, are attempts to exert control over others: “embedded in efforts to change others is a desire for control and domination” (Foss and Griffin, 1995: 3). Foss and Griffin’s critique is stronger and clearer than Cobb’s, possibly due to the lack of necessity in engaging in Christian notions of proclamation and mission within the field of rhetorical studies. As such it is extraordinarily helpful for understanding the communicative principles of interreligious dialogue.

Interreligious dialogue as invitational rhetoric: a mutual critique

Part of the confusion and tension between dialogue and proclamation lies in the unstated and unclarified communication principles of advocates of interreligious dialogue. Hence understanding interreligious dialogue as a type of applied invitational rhetoric allows a deeper critique of its communicative underpinnings. What follows are three critiques of invitational rhetoric from within communication studies, which will help sharpen a critique of Cobb’s notion of interreligious dialogue.

First, the calls for an enforced and disciplined openness for those entering into invitational rhetoric has been criticized by feminist rhetoricians for perpetuating oppressive power dynamics. According to Nina Lozano-Reich and Dana Cloud, “to refuse persuasion is to refuse participation in real-world encounters marked by material and antagonistic interests” (2009: 221). The rejection of persuasion is an attempt to paper over antagonistic differences. Attempts to scrub dialogue clean of antagonism may be appropriate amongst certain discussions amongst equals. However, there are many situations in which such antagonism is warranted to expose evil and to challenge social and material norms. Such conflicts are “undeniable features of society” (2009: 222). As scholars of social movements, Lozano-Reich and Cloud are concerned that invitational rhetoric is a type of elitism that neglects the real contribution of persuasion and public action towards movements that have enacted justice (2009).

A similar critique may be levied at Cobb’s notion of interreligious dialogue. In his attempt to legislate a disciplined openness around the dialogical table, Cobb negates the opportunity for antagonism. While Cobb affirms that each person can hold firm to their beliefs (he does not advocate a universalistic, lowest common denominator view of religion), one cannot attempt to persuade others of the merits and truth claims of such beliefs. Cobb rejects such persuasive attempts out of fear that it will offend the other, and lead to dominance. However, what if such beliefs are the foundation for persuasive attempts to address systematic injustice? Must one fully enter into the viewpoint of the other, when that other grounds racism into their religious beliefs? There seem to be compelling reasons, in certain circumstances, that persuasion rather than openness is the proper moral and ethical stance. As Schroeder puts it,

One dialogues with the poor and also speaks out against what keeps the poor that way; one dialogues with culture and also critiques those elements contrary to God’s Reign in every human culture; one dialogues with other religions, and maintains the conviction that Jesus is the Way, the Truth and the Life. (2013: 57)

One can look, for instance, at the example of the Catholic Church under Jaime Cardinal Sin in the 1986 People Power Revolution in the Philippines. Here, Sin intentionally persuaded thousands of nuns and Catholic laity to peacefully interfere with the Marcos regime’s attempts to capture dissidents. Such persuasion was done in a large part through Catholic radio: the revolution was successful in part due to an appeal for direct action through a “monologue” rather than a dialogue. ²

Cobb does not deny the need for confrontation, but it is a confrontation with the hope of leading to dialogue, for it is in dialogue that there can be a change in both sides that destroys neither side (1990: 1). The fact of nonviolent revolutions showcases instances in which justice was enacted through direct action which led to the overthrowing of, rather than dialogue with, oppressive regimes. In addition, Cobb, Knitter, and others are quick to qualify their statements on openness with calls for peace and justice, but in doing so leave little in the way of criteria as to where the foundation of such justice resides. The problem is that, once such criteria are formulated, they become truth claims that ask for a universal consent. Predicating dialogue upon fundamental notions of peace and justice simply begs the question of whose notion of justice such dialogue must be predicated upon. John Milbank asserts that such attempts are part and parcel of modernity’s attempt to separate justice from religious and cultural beliefs: “if there is a universal discourse in modernity, then it is that of formalized law and constitutional politics, which attempts to police and keep within their proper bounds all the other discourses” (1990: 181). In essence, the bracketing of religious views while insisting on adopting some notion of justice at the dialogue table asks participants to embrace a particularly Western notion of a neutral, secularized, and dominant justice.

A second critique of invitational rhetoric is that it is simply persuasion disguised as openness. Fulkerson (1996) points out a simple logical flaw: Foss and Griffin’s proposal for invitational rhetoric is an argument for the need to stop arguing. It is an attempt to persuade its readers on the need to stop persuading. It is extraordinarily difficult to define what persuasion is and what it isn’t. Gass and Seiter state that a definition of persuasion should “take into account the rich complex of verbal, nonverbal, and contextual cues found in interpersonal encounters . . . these elements do not function separately, but rather, they operate in an interrelated manner” (1999: 20). Once one factors in nonverbal communication, as well as contextual and implicit cues, it becomes clear that persuasion can take place without intent being obviously stated. The danger in a communication ethic that attempts to purge intentional persuasion is that it enables subtler and more deceptive forms of persuasion to occur. Invitational rhetoric can open itself up to those who wish to utilize a form of argumentative seduction. Using the metaphor of arguers as lovers, Wayne Brockriede says that “such devices as ignoring the questions, begging the question, the red herring, appeals to ignorance or to prejudice all aim at securing assent through seductive discourse that only appears to establish warrantable claims” (1972: 4).

As stated above, Cobb’s view of interreligious dialogue requires a provisional bracketing of absolutist claims in such a way that one does not attempt to convince others of the necessity of adopting them. However, this is a type of persuasion disguised under the auspices of openness. One must accept a priori the belief that one should not strongly try to intentionally persuade others of their absolutist beliefs before coming to the dialogue table. One must either change or soften their beliefs, or enter into a less fruitful form of dialogue. Within his call for openness, Cobb still attempts to persuade, calling on Christians to repudiate their “tendency to suppose that all the truth we require is already given to us from our Christian past” (2010: 24). Gavin D’Costa makes a similar critique of Knitter’s notion of coming to the dialogue table without a “prepackaged final word”:

While the intention of Knitter and others is no doubt honourable in promoting peace and harmony, this would be a spurious harmony, for it . . . takes no one seriously by discounting their absolute claims from the outset. This would mean that only liberals within each tradition, like Knitter and Hick, could take part in dialogue. (2010: 336)

Cobb takes a slightly more nuanced position than Knitter, recommending rather than insisting on the bracketing of judgment. However, the ability for truly fruitful dialogue comes both from such bracketing and the hope that by entering into such dialogue a mutual conversion might take place. Cobb opens the door for more conservative voices for dialogue, but attempts to persuade the adoption of a pluralistic worldview in order to promote better and more fruitful dialogue. In essence, the more conservative voices are simply subpar dialogical voices. ³

The last, and perhaps most important critique of invitational rhetoric is that it denies human agency. To be coerced is to have one’s freedom abrogated, typically through emotional or physical violence. If all persuasion is coercive and violent, then any instance of someone being persuaded is an act of violence. While Foss and Griffin’s critique is important for revealing the ways in which persuasion could be coercive, it assumes an alarmingly low view of human freedom. The response of those challenged to change their beliefs can be markedly varied. Individuals exercise their freedom in negotiating for themselves what they will accept, reject, or modify as a result of their interaction with the speaker. They also possess the ability to enact judgment on the message and speaker alike. Such encounters with others will necessarily influence all parties involved. In short, invitational rhetoric “ignores a good many cooperative rhetorical situations” (Fulkerson, 1996: 204), in which two or more parties argue, change their opinions, and are grateful for the interaction.

Similarly, Cobb’s notion of interreligious dialogue has as its fundamental tenant the rejection of attempts to intentionally persuade others to deny their current religious worldview and embrace a different one. This is rooted in Cobb’s belief that the attempts by Christians to convert people of other faiths throughout history have been the source of great harm: “Given our history, dialogue requires that we create a climate in which there is no manipulation, no effort on anyone’s part to convert the others” (2010: 38). Cobb links the history of Christian conversion, particularly its ties to colonialism, to a notion that to convert means to manipulate.

However, as with the critique of invitational rhetoric, such a position drastically reduces human agency. It suggests that those who are converted have been manipulated, which denies the ability of individuals to process such calls to conversion, accepting, rejecting, or qualifying such messages. Lamin Sanneh suggests that part of this link between manipulation and conversion is tied to a false homogenization of the history of Christian missions:

At its most self-conscious stage, mission coincided with Western colonialism, and with that juncture students of the subject have gone on to make all kinds of judgements about the intrinsic bond between the two forces. Historians who are instinctively critical of received tradition in other spheres are more credulous in perpetuating the notion of mission as “imperialism at prayer.” (1989: 88)

Sanneh’s monograph Translating the Message highlights the complex ways in which the missionary enterprise shaped both the missionary and the mission. While not denying the cases in which missionaries colluded with oppressive imperialist regimes, Sanneh emphasizes the ways in which missionaries, through introducing the gospel message, helped foster significant benefits for local cultures. He also showcases the ways in which many missionaries became more critical of their home churches as a result of spreading the gospel: “Missionaries accepted the indigenous culture as the final destination of the message, and they were prepared to go to similar lengths in renouncing Western culture as the normative pattern for all peoples” (1989: 93). Such a critique of Western culture was done in part in order to advance the success of the missionary venture. Hence the missionary, in their attempts to intentionally convert others, experienced a conversion themselves. This did not take place through a radical open dialogue but through the intentional proclamation of the gospel. The type of mutual conversion so desired by Cobb was achieved through the method of intentional proclamation that he despises.

While Sanneh’s work has done much to rehabilitate portions of the Christian missionary enterprise, another critique of the “conversion as manipulation” framework lies in an examination of the variety of ways the recipients of missionary work accept, adapt, and reject the message they receive. There have been numerous missiological studies describing and analyzing the multitude of ways in which direct proclamation of the Christian message is received both by individuals and by groups. Alan Tippett (1977) categorized four ways in which indigenous populations responded to Christian missionary advocacy: rejection, total acceptance, modification, or group fission (the splitting of indigenous groups). Such a process is negotiated by groups of people under the auspices of what is perceived as best for the group as a whole. According to Richard Hibbert, Tippett’s framework of decision making asserts that local people are “active agents rather than passive recipients in the process of conversion” (2015: 62). An interesting example of the plurality of ways in which such conversion does and does not take place lies in Hibbert’s description of Hindus and Muslims that adopt hybrid identities, identifying as culturally Hindu or Muslim, but Christian in religion. Such individuals often vacillate between religious communities (2015: 67–68).

Such evidence poses a difficult question for Cobb: At what point has manipulation occurred? While Cobb allows for the possibility of persuasion to occur within dialogue (similar to Foss and Griffin’s assertion in invitational rhetoric), attempts to intentionally convert are wrong because they invite one to abandon their traditions and communities (1990: 9). This assumes that the rejection of part or all of a tradition or community is de facto the product of coercion. Cobb is labeling the free decision of peoples to change beliefs and worldviews as the product of coercive manipulation. Tippett’s research is in part predicated upon the response of indigenous communities to direct appeals to full conversion to the Christian faith. Has manipulation occurred only to those who “fully adopt” the Christian message? If groups decide that Christianity enhances their lives, is that necessarily because they have been manipulated to believe so? The danger in Cobb’s underlying assumption of evangelization as manipulation is a type of paternalism: it informs those who have converted (and who believe such conversion has enhanced their lives) that they have actually been manipulated.

A recovery of proclamation as persuasion and purgation

This article began with a brief history of the relationship between dialogue and proclamation, and the tension that often exists between these terms. It then examined the attempts to subvert proclamation to dialogue in the type of interreligious dialogue advocated by John Cobb, and shared to a certain degree by other advocates of dialogue such as Paul Knitter and Jacques Dupuis.

There have been several admirable attempts to bridge the gap between dialogue and proclamation. Bevans and Schroeder’s advocacy of mission as prophetic dialogue is probably the gold standard for such a synthesis (2004: 348–398). David Bosch asserts that the tension between dialogue and witness is simply unresolvable short of the eschaton. What is needed is to proceed in the penultimate with bold humility (Bosch, 1991: 488–489).

There is much to admire in Foss and Griffin’s invitational rhetoric and John Cobb’s form of dialogue. Both spring from a desire to imbue the exchange of ideas with freedom, tolerance, and respect, while maintaining the assertion that one can still hold robust and different worldviews. The problem with both, however, is that they posit the preeminence of their positions over and against other forms of interaction and persuasion. While both attempt to make concessions and caveats, the logical thrust of their systems, predicated on the inherent violence of persuasion and conversion as manipulation, leave little space for the kind of intentional advocacy that is a part of so many human interactions.

We see this particularly in John Cobb’s work. There is an assertion that his form of interreligious dialogue does not deny the mission of the church, or even its call to evangelize. Yet, his notions of witness, mission, proclamation, and evangelism are muddled, and attempts to unpack definitions of these terms are shunned in favor of reasserting that none of them should advocate intentional conversion. The de-emphasis and underdevelopment of mission and proclamation, or, the subsuming of both to dialogue, threatens to render them both superfluous.

Just as communication ethics was used to deepen a critique of dialogue, it can also prove helpful in recovering a deeper understanding of proclamation. Rather than attempt another synthesis of dialogue and proclamation, I will instead attempt to recover a notion of proclamation as persuasion and purgation. The hope is that developing a deeper and richer view of proclamation can highlight the ways in which such acts address the aforementioned issues in interreligious dialogue and bolster the case for its reaffirmation in opposition to its detractors.

First, proclamation is persuasion. Proclamation is an intentional advocacy of the Christian message and a call to conversion through baptism. Such a statement acknowledges the fact of persuasion as a part of human existence, but such an assertion does not mean that persuasion must be competitive. Here, Augustine’s vision of a Christian rhetoric can prove quite helpful. As Ernest Fortin notes, in Augustine’s reaffirmation of the usefulness of rhetoric within Christian preaching, he makes a subtle change to the understanding of the pagan rhetoric of Cicero. Whereas Cicero placed the pleasing of the audience as the culmination and end goal of his rhetoric, Augustine places Christian teaching (Fortin, 2008). Persuasion becomes, under Augustine, subservient to Christian teaching. Such a subversion should foster humility in the orator, for the goal is not to be a good persuader but to point to a truth that is beyond one’s self. Augustine does, however, maintain the usefulness of persuasive practices, so long as they help lead one to this truth. The goal of persuasion is not mastery over the other, but of following the contours of persuasion already embedded within sacred Scripture: “Scripture itself is characterized by such an eloquence; the role of the Christian tractator and doctor is to make its sweetness, its power to move to conversion, available to others” (Cavadini, 1995: 165). Thus Augustine both reaffirms the usefulness of persuasion while rejecting its use in the acquisition of power. Conversion is not achieved by the orator (as with Cicero), but through the persuasiveness of God working through sacred Scripture (Augustine, 2008). The preacher conforms to this persuasiveness through soundly teaching Scripture. Hence prayer for the Christian preacher is more important than the practice of oratory, for it is in prayer that one learns to conform to God and to enable God’s words to persuade as they flow through the speaker: “He must become a man of prayer before a man of words. As the hour of his address approaches, before he opens his thrusting lips he should lift his thirsting soul to God so that he may utter what he has drunk in and pour out what has filled him” (Augustine, 2008: 121).

Augustine’s preference for prayer over oratory suggests a second feature of proclamation: that it is simultaneously an act of persuasion as well as an act of purgation. To encounter another is to be changed in some way, whether we desire that change or not. This point is brought out vividly in Martin Buber’s I and Thou: we know ourselves as I only through our relationship to the You (1970: 62). Kenneth Burke presses this point further, pointing out how individual actions, including speech actions, are intrinsically qualified by the object with which the action is directed. In short, the speaker modifies their speech in anticipation of their audience: “Hence, in proportion as he widens his social relations with person and things outside him, in learning how to anticipate their attitudes he builds within himself a more complex set of attitudes, thoroughly social” (1969: 237). Burke states this as a fact of humans created as social beings, hence such adaptation occurs through intentional and unintentional forms of persuasion alike. The process of interactions, including the act of persuading, involves a purgation of certain attitudes and words, in order to develop stronger social harmony amongst interlocutors. One could apply such a notion to Augustine’s exhortation to prayer—it is a speaking with God that simultaneously qualifies the language we use to address God. But this also applies to interactions between human beings as well. When we address another person, we qualify our speech, and are thus changed ourselves through such interaction. Such qualifications happen in both direct persuasion as well as other forms of communication. Within the acts of proclamation, of direct persuasion, the speaker as well as the listener are changed.

This addresses one of the primary concerns of Cobb, as it demonstrates that a type of mutual conversion does not require the elimination of intentional persuasion. ⁴ We see this type of mutual conversion in Lamin Sanneh’s examination of certain 20th-century missionary movements noted above. Missionaries helped to enact a change, a conversion, in the lives of the people through whom their proclamatory speech was addressed. However, such activity effected a change in their own Christianity as well. The act of intentionally persuading residents of a foreign country of the blessings of Christianity enacted an unintended consequence of purifying their own view of the Christianity of their home country.

Conclusion

This article has utilized the field of communication ethics to sharpen a critique of a form of interreligious dialogue that de-emphasizes the necessity of proclamation, as well as to provide helpful tools to recover a notion of proclamation that acknowledges its persuasive and purgative aspects. Such a recovery helps address one of the primary concerns of proponents of interreligious dialogue (that intentional conversion is manipulative) by demonstrating how persuasion might be rooted not in the acquisition of power over another, but instead in the promotion of a truth that is both greater than oneself and is intrinsically persuasive. It also shows how the act of intentional proclamation might also bring about the kind of mutual conversion that is desired by those who believe such conversion can come about only through dialogue.

While there are a multitude of activities involved in the work of mission, the hope is that those called particularly to the task of Christian witness may proceed in proclaiming the good news of Jesus Christ with boldness, pointing others to the God who persuades women and men to Himself, knowing that such a bold witness might effect as much of a purgation in the missionary’s conception of Christianity as it will enact a change in the worldviews of those to whom such missionary efforts are directed.