SEYYED HOSSEIN NASR IN THE CONTEXT OF THE PERENNIALIST SCHOOL

As it has been often mentioned, the so-called Perennial School traces its intellectual and spiritual heritage back to three
fundamental figures who may be considered as its main inspirers and interpreters in the XXth century. These are René
Guénon (1886-1951), Ananda K. Coomaraswamy (1877-1947) and Frithjof Schuon (1907-1998). 1
Aside from his keen and implacable critique of the modern world, René Guénon's seminal contribution was focused on
three major domains of exposition: metaphysics, initiation and symbolism. In each of these fundamental domains, Guénon
provides his reader with a rigorous definition of what he understood by the term tradition. This understanding was mostly informed
by the Hindu, Islamic and Taoist worlds.2
The clarity and rigor of his mode of expression sharply contrasts with the diffuse and confused intellectual ambience of the
spiritualist trends of the late nineteenth-century and early twentieth-century. Guénon's work dispels confusions and
pseudo-spiritual fantasies with an impersonal mastery that is more geometric than musical, more rational (and not rationalist) than
intuitive.

From Ananda Coomaraswamy the expression of the philosophia perennis gained a new dimension both in its mode and in its
content. As for the mode, one has often noted the painstakingly academic way of proceeding that informs Coomaraswamy's works. A
veritable arsenal of quotations is placed at the disposal at the reader, contrasting with the often allusive and sometimes
mysterious references that are to be found in Guénon's works. From the standpoint of content, Coomaraswamy's contribution
seems to lie primarily in his ability to reveal the spiritual connection that unites symbolism, aesthetics, contemplation and
artistic work. Symbolism is not only a museum of references and correspondences, it is a living workshop of spiritual
transformation.3 We may also mention Coomaraswamy's important pages devoted to Buddhism, Neo-Platonism and Christian
mysticism --including the Christian East, all three domains that Guénon had either ignored or underestimated.

If Guénon and Coomarawamy can be considered as pioneers of sophia perennis and philosophia perennis
in the twentieth-century, it could be argued that Frithjof Schuon was, in a sense, more interested in religio perennis than
in sophia perennis or in tradition.4 An important note from his magnum opus Esoterism As Principle And As
Way bears much light in this respect:

We say "primordial Religion", and not "Tradition", because the first of these terms
has the advantage of expressing an intrinsic reality (religere='to bind' the earthly with the heavenly), and not simply an
extrinsic reality like the second (tradere= 'to hand down' scriptural ritual and legal elements.) 5

This emphasis has sometimes been reproached to Schuon inasmuch as it has been perceived, erroneously, as an attempt at fostering
a universal and syncretistic religion disconnected from any specific traditional grounding. In fact however, what Schuon has in
mind through this emphasis is rather the "intrinsic" dimension suggested by the term religion --as an inner link to God, together
with the implications of totality that it involves with respect to the human spiritual engagement that religion entails. In this
sense, Religio connotes the universal realities of prayer, morality and aesthetics, and not only a theoretical or
metaphysical core. 6

Seyyed Hossein Nasr has repeatedly acknowledged a more direct intellectual and spiritual debt toward Schuon 7 than
toward Guénon or Coomaraswamy. In many respects, his opus could be read as a brilliant and richly referenced development of
Schuon's work. However he seems to have been less interested in emphasizing the centrality of the very concept of religio
perennis, and it would not be an exaggeration to add that he has favored the terms sophia perennis or philosophia
perennis over the latter; a fact that is perhaps symbolically indicated that the title of the two academic journals that he
created and directed in Iran and the US, Sophia Perennis and Sophia.

Among all of the foremost perennialist writers, Seyyed Hossein Nasr's background is remarkable in at least three ways: first, he
is a public figure who has been widely recognized in the media --in both the US and Europe-- as a spokesman for perennialist ideas.
His exceptional gifts as a scholar, a pedagogue and a public speaker could not but lead him to become one of the most highly
recognized and most acclaimed representatives of the perennial philosophy in the twentieth century. His appearance on broadcast
programs such as Bill Moyers’ Genesis and his participation in highly visible interfaith events at the UN and other
forums testify to this public notoriety. Other figures, particularly Schuon, have been much more withdrawn from the public eye.

Second, he is the only perennialist writer who is closely identified with a given religious tradition, both as being born in it
and as being a world expert on many of its dimensions. It must be added that Seyyed Hossein Nasr inherited his Islamic spiritual
identity from a long and prestigious line of scholars and educators. He is by no means simply a Muslim born expert on
Islam,8 he is the spiritual and intellectual offspring of a lineage of remarkable men whose life and works bear the deep
imprint of a whole traditional civilization.9 This is notthe case for most other major perennialists who have adopted a
religious form different from that in which they were born. For example, Guénon and Schuon chose Islam, while Marco Pallis
entered Buddhism. Let us mention though, that none of these authors can be considered as "converts."10 This is best
illustrated by the following lines from Guénon's correspondence:

I cannot let it said that I "converted to Islam" for this way of presenting
things is completely false; whoever is aware of the essential unity of traditions is therefore "unconvertible" to whatsoever, and
he is even the only one to be so; but one may "settle", if one may say so, in such or such a tradition depending upon
circumstances, and above all for reasons of an initiatory order. 11

Thirdly, Nasr is the only foremost perennialist writer to have received an intensive and advanced academic training in modern
sciences. Although Guénon was a mathematician of background, he was not directly involved in the study of modern sciences
nor did he manifest much interest in going beyond a general critique of modern scientific reductionism. Titus Burckhardt, and to a
lesser extent Frithjof Schuon, has left us with remarkably perceptive arguments and analyses against such scientific axioms as
macro-evolutionism and the superstition of materialism.12 It belonged to Seyyed Hossein Nasr 13 to delve in a
much more comprehensive and systematic fashion into the fallacies of a science disconnected from metaphysical principles.
14 He did so, in works such The Encounter of Man and Nature: The Spiritual Crisis of Modern Man (London: Allen
and Unwin, 1968), Islamic Science: An Illustrated Study (London: World of Islam Festival Trust, 1976), Western Science
and Asian Cultures (New Delhi: Indian Council for Cultural Relations, 1976),The Need for a Sacred Science (Albany: State
University of New York Press, 1993) and Religion and the Order of Nature (Oxford: Oxford University Press,
1996), against the double background of his being conversant in traditional Islamic sciences and having been trained in physics at
M.I.T. This dimension of his work –in addition to his natural sensibility to the beauty and majesty of nature and his
metaphysical acumen--also provided him with the most effective intellectual tools to tackle the contemporary predicament of the
environmental crisis with a unique cogency. The three aforementioned characteristics have allowed him, in a sense, to be the ideal
spokesman of the perennialist perspective in the public forum, both in academia and beyond. His familiarity and identification with
Islam, his

validation as a recognized scholar and respected member of the scholarly community, and his conceptual proficiency in modern
scientific languages have all contributed to make him a particularly apt interpreter of perennialist ideas in the contemporary
public arena.

If we now look at Nasr's contribution, one may consider that there are four main dimensions of Seyyed Hossein Nasr's
contribution to the world of the spirit, and it could be said, therefore, that there are --so to speak-- four Seyyed Hossein Nasr.
These four identities and functions could be defined as follow: --the gnostic, the esoterist whose work is situated in the wake of
Frithjof Schuon's intellectual opus and spiritual path, --the revivificator of the Islamic intelligentsia who has devoted many
efforts to fostering a greater understanding of the intellectual roots of the Islamic tradition, -- the intellectual and spiritual
pedagogue whose teachings have aimed at and contributed to providing a cohesive religious framework for young Muslims and for some
others, --and finally the interpreter of Islam for Western audiences, one would almost be tempted to say one of the quasi-official
spokesman of Islam in the West. From a most fundamental standpoint, these four dimensions of Nasr's personality and work are
essentially connected. As the tradition that he defines, describes and embraces, Nasr's opus is an organic whole that ranges
over multiple levels of reality. From another standpoint, this plurality of dimensions may tend to obscure the less "visible"
esoteric and gnostic kernel that animates the whole of Nasr's contribution. To put it another way, it could be argued that the wide
and manifold array of concerns that encompasses Nasr's work cannot but contribute to veiling the informal and transcendent core
that he inherited from other major perennialists and particularly from Frithjof Schuon. In what follows, we would like to support
this thesis by reference to two aspects of Nasr's symbolic language, as well as --briefly and in fine-- by alluding to what
appears to be his vision of the role of formal religions –and particularly Islam--in the modern world and the ways in which
it may be deemed to differ from Schuon's emphasis in this respect. In doing so, we will tend to emphasize --for quasi-pedagogical
reasons-- Nasr's specific interpretation of the perennialist perspective, which will lead us to focus on some of his differences
from Schuon. One may question the usefulness of such an exercise in distinction since, after all, what matters most is essential
commonality and convergence. Our answer to this is that distinction is not a mere intellectual exercise, it is also an opportunity
for sharpening one's discernment, thereby reaching a better understanding, such discerning understanding being a key to a more
effective concentration on the essential.

The first symbolic image that can be considered as representative of Nasr's vision is that of the flow of a river. This image is
conjured by Nasr'’s understanding and description of tradition. Such a symbolic representation places the emphasis on
continuity on two levels: that of the transmission that ranges from the source of a given revelation to the present, and
that of the organic integrality of the whole set of disciplines and institutions that encompasses a whole given traditional
civilization. Adventitious images that are suggested by Nasr's vision are those of a mighty fortress and a merciful abode,
Nasr’s concept of tradition being moreover akin to that of a mother keeping her children out of trouble. In his works, Nasr
envisages tradition as an instrumental and ideal sine qua non, as a guarantee of spiritual authenticity and a virtually infinite
source of grace. This is certainly an aspect of his work which is in consonance with Guénon and Schuon. However, much of
Schuon's work has to do with situating, explaining and criticizing or rejecting a variety of formal characteristics and phenomena
that encumbers the traditional scene and may be stumbling blocks for well-intentioned and sincere seekers who do not necessarily
participate in a kind of "nationalist" enthusiasm toward a given tradition. Schuon does not hesitate to criticize some aspects of
the Islamic or Christian traditions that may veil the essentiality and universality of these religious messages; not only from the
standpoint of human abuses, but even from the standpoint of providential opportuneness. For Schuon, tradition is not only a safe,
merciful and organic milieu as it is for Nasr, it is also a set of phenomena, some of which problematic, that may be objectified by
the Intellect, the divine intelligence in us. In this connection, Schuon went so far as to suggest that, in a sense, religions are
like "heresies" in relation to Religio Perennis. In Schuon's symbolic language, the nurturing function of water is
not primarily identified to the flow of a river but rather to the fertilizing and direct descent of rain. This image suggests
vertical descent in "space" and discontinuity in "time." This is the principle of esoterism, which is referred to in Islam as the
purview of al-Khidr, the universal initiator whose injunction transcends the Law.15 It must be granted that
tradition also stems from "vertical" revelation as it could not understood independently from this vertical axis. As Reza
Shah-Kazemi has rightfully emphasized following Henry Corbin, "a tradition transmits itself as something alive, since it is a
ceaselessly renewed inspiration, and not a funeral cortège or a register of conformist opinion." (Sacred Web 7 ,
p.44, En Islam Iranien, I). Nasr would be the first to recognize that tradition is an ever renewed miracle. But at the same
time, he seems more interested in emphasizing the organic and integral unfolding of tradition, which is both the principle of its
effectiveness and that of its necessary limitations and "scandals", which Nasr is less readily disposed to point.

Another fundamental symbol that may help us to delineate more clearly the subtle but very real differences that distinguishes
Nasr's perspective from Schuon's is that of the shell or husk and the kernel. It is very revealing to observe that this very same
symbolic representation of the relationship between essence and form, or inner spirituality and outer religion, --which is a
recurrent signifier in many mystical discourses East and West-- is envisaged from a very distinct point of view in Nasr's and
Schuon's writings. As a German gnostic in the lineage of Meister Eckhart and the Medieval Northern European mystics, Schuon
repeatedly refers to Eckhart's formula: "If you want the kernel, you need to break the husk."16 The kernel is the
esoteric wisdom, the Religion of the Heart that is in principle independent from any religious language, the husk is the formal
language of a given religion. Schuon's esoteric approach starts with this "breaking of the shell" that amounts to an intuitive or
intellective grasp of Reality that allows to read each confessional language from within or starting from the essence. "Breaking
the husk" also means that Schuon's metaphysical language and spiritual focus cannot be located in a particular traditional world
since they are intrinsically universal.17 Much of Schuon's work is actually a "breaking of the husk" in the sense that
it highlights the limitations, biases, and sometimes inconsistencies of the external manifestation of religious traditions. It
could be said, at least symbolically, that Schuon's spiritual personality is "Shivaite" whereas Nasr's is by and large "Visnuite:"
Schuon is a "destroyer of illusory peace" (as suggested by his first name Frithjof) who reduces forms to the naked essence and
reintegrates them into the supraformal Truth, whereas Nasr's enterprise has to do with conserving, protecting, stabilizing and
transmitting.

In a sense, Seyyed Hossein Nasr's intellectual and spiritual path is different from Schuon's, since the latter starts from
esoterism to go toward Islam while the former has its starting point is Islam while its ultimate destination is esoterism or
gnosis.18 In this connection, an examination of the relationship between esoterism and Islam in Schuon's writings will
provide us with a particularly relevant avenue of understanding Schuon’s notion of "quintessential esoterism" and the extent
to which it must be distinguished from Nasr’s understanding of esoterism.19 It could be said that, through his
most important distinction between "esoteric Islam" and "Islamic esoterism", Schuon refers to the distinction between a spiritual
perspective that envisages esoterism from the point of view of Islam and one that envisages Islam from the point of view of
esoterism. This is far from being a mere academic subtlety or hair splitting. In fact, it could be argued that most of the
hermeneutic divergences to which Schuon's work has given rise stem from this very distinction. In other words, one may be
interested in esoterism because of Islam, as one may be interested in Islam because of esoterism. Denying that such a difference in
outlook must have some important consequences on the doctrinal level as well as on the spiritual plane amounts to missing one of
the main points of Schuon’s "quintessential esoterism." For instance, it is clear that this distinction runs parallel to a
difference of perspective in terms of understanding the function and priority of esoterism. An interest in esoterism from the
standpoint of Islam, and for the sake of Islam --or a kind of "confirmation" or validation of Islam by esoterism if one wishes--
will almost unavoidably entail an emphasis on the revivification and expansion of Islam by means of esoteric truths. The
outward-leaning, public and “apostolic” tendencies of this perspective 20 are not just coincidences: they
stem from the very understanding of "esoterism" and its "mission." On the other hand, the perspective of quintessential esoterism
will be characterized by an understanding of Islam as an extrinsic "support" for esoterism, and its overall priority will be more
conservative than expansive. This is so to speak the distinction that may drawn between the Hindu emphasis on the integral
"conservation" of the Sanâtana Dharma and the Christian and Islamic "preaching to all nations."

Another major consequence of this divergence lies in the extent to which esoterism may be allowed to manifest itself in the full
range of its possibilities. In the perspective of esoterism as a "confirmation" of Islam, the former will remain always more or
less "hidden", "partial" and implicit. It will be the responsibility of the individual seeker, if he is able to break the husk and
if he is allowed to do so by an ambience that is not likely to be conducive to such a "breaking", to look for the
haqîqah hidden in the form. On the contrary, the perspective of quintessential esoterism will allow, in principle, for
the fullest or maximal manifestation of the "nature of things" in doctrinal and methodical matters. Its reference point will be
"things as they are" rather than things as they are providentially envisaged by Islam. This difference stems from the fact that
integral esoterism will tend to consider Islam as a "validation" of the truth, rather than considering itself as a "validation" of
Islam. When esoterism is primarily envisaged as a validation of Islam, some of its aspects are cast aside or looked upon with
suspicion or unease, precisely because they do not necessarily fit the mold of the Islamic upâya or other traditional
"frames of mind." By contrast, quintessential esoterism will not consider the entire formal complex of Islam as compatible
with its perspective,21 which is why it will focus on the central and essential elements of its spiritual perspective,
those which may provide a direct entrance into the haqîqah. On the one hand, esoterism will keep the confessional and
ethnic limitations of Islam at bay, on the other it will understand its central tenets and practices from the point of view of
universal gnosis. As Schuon has illustrated this point in an unpublished text: performing the çalât will not be
conceived and lived as the fulfillment of an Islamic duty, it will rather be envisaged as a direct expression of the relationship
between man and God. This amounts to saying that quintessential esoterism will never consider Islam independently from the nature
of things and from the integral structure of reality. By contrast, it could be said that "esoteric Islam" will never allow itself
to consider esoterism independently from Islam.22 Finally, a major
concomitance of the contrast of what has just been sketched lies in the fact that, whereas integral esoterism is always
"confortable" with recognizing the legitimacy of more exoteric and formalistic perspectives, partial esoterism experiences a
tension between its call to universality and its sentimental solidarity with Islam. This tension will more than often result in
anathemas against all intellectual and existential manifestations of esoterism that appear to lie outside the strict and
conventional cadre of the Islamic tradition, or at least outside its recorded and accepted historical manifestations.

Another relevant aspect of this distinction is related to the gradual process of assimilation of the truth, or to the logical
and chronological sequence in which a spiritual seeker will proceed:

A Westerner desirous of following an esoteric way would find it logical first of all
to inform himself of the doctrine, then to enquire about the method and finally about its general conditions; but the Moslem of
esoteric inclination — and the attitude of the Kabbalist is doubtless analogous — has definitely the opposite tendency:
if one speaks to him of metaphysics, he will find it natural to reply that one must begin at the beginning, namely with pious
exercises and all sorts of religious observances; metaphysics will be for later. He does not seem to realize that in the eyes of
the Westerner, as also of the Hindu, this is to deprive the pious practices of their sufficient reason— not in themselves of
course but with a view to knowledge — and to make the way almost unintelligible; and above all, the Semitic zealot does not
see that understanding of doctrine cannot result from a moral and individualistic zeal, but that on the contrary it is there to
inaugurate a new dimension and to elucidate its nature and purpose. 23

By contrast with the eso-exoteric anteriority of pious practice over metaphysical understanding, Schuon’s spiritual
pedagogy stresses the primacy of jnana-yoga over karma-yoga and he never interprets the former as an complexifying
intensification of the latter. His teachings emphasize the essential dimension of forms and does not subordinate this essence to
any kind of psychological or moral opportuneness or expediency. In other words, his main motto is that “there is no right
superior to that of truth.” Truth needs to be expressed in its “nakedness” for those who “have ears to
hear.” Those who are not ready, for one legitimate reason or another,24 to acknowledge this uncolored truth may
find more suitable paths in the context of more “colored” perspectives. By contrast with esoterism that does not
compromise on the totality of truth, eso-exoteric perspectives will willingly veil and sacrifice some elements of truth to adapt to
the limitations and conditioning of some or most of their faithful.

As we have suggested above, the formal characteristics of Seyyed Hossein Nasr’s Islamic point of departure determine the
very scope and style of his outlook and the way in which he proceeds toward the religio perennis. In his work, the symbol of
the "husk and the kernel" takes a very different meaning from the one that is assigned to it by Schuon. In this connection, the
emphasis is on the protective and nurturing function of the shell. The main concern seems to be on transmission and protection,
rather than on unveiling and liberating:

Religion is like a walnut, with both a shell and the core or fruit which can grow
and possess existence only within the shell. 25

This understanding of the relationship between shell and core is also in full consonance with Nasr's interpretation of Schuon's
concept of esoterism:

Schuon's aim is to substantiate the reality of esoterism not as a vaguely defined
reality by itself, but within each orthodox religion, thereby strengthening religion as such and even exoterism as considered in
itself and independent of the esoteric.26

Although this statement is literally accurate in what it includes,27
it is not necessarily so in what it implicitly excludes. Schuon certainly does not define esoterism in vaguely universal terms, but
he does not restrict the meaning of this notion to its relative manifestations in specific traditions, as clearly shown by several
passages of his work, like the following one in which he distinguishes

between "esoterism as such" and the "esoterism of a particular tradition" :

Thus esoterism as such is metaphysics, to which is necessarily joined an appropriate
method of realization. But the esoterism of a particular religion–of a particular exoterism precisely—tends to adapt
itself to this religion and thereby enter into theological, psychological and legalistic meanders foreign to its nature, while
preserving in its secret center its authentic and plenary nature, but for which it would not be what it is. 28

This passage, that is echoed by many others in Schuon’s writings, clearly establishes that esoterism cannot be reduced to
doctrinal metaphysics since it includes “an appropriate method of realization.” The fact that this esoterism is
distinguished from the “esoterism of a particular tradition” clearly indicates that the “method of
realization” that is part of esoterism, even though necessarily derived from a particular tradition in its forms, is not to
be identified with the “theological, psychological and legalistic meanders foreign to its nature” that form the
external and collective characters of a given tradition. The objection that is often raised against this consistent understanding
of esoterism lies in Schuon’s assertion that –outside of an infinitesimally small quantity of exceptions-- esoterism
cannot be practiced independently from an exoteric framework. The fact is that this has never been in doubt for any serious readers
of Schuon, all the more so for any of those who situate themselves in his spiritual wake. The real questions that this truism tends
to veil are the following: --to what extent and in what ways does the independence of principle that the esoteric outlook enjoys
vis-à-vis traditional forms affect the intellectual outlook and spiritual practices of the esoterist, --and what are the
consequences of this esoteric outlook upon the relationship between the esoterist and the collective psychic climate of any given
tradition, including that in which he has “established itself”, to use Guénon’s term? Schuon’s
answers to these questions are crystal-clear. With respect to the intellectual perspective of gnosis, it is unambiguously stated
that it is independent from objections from the traditional framework: The ‘subjective supernatural’ has need
–‘accidentally’ and not ‘essentially’—of the ‘objective supernatural’, but once it
is thus ‘awakened to itself’ by what corresponds to it outside of us, no extrinsic objection can concern it
further.29

As for the spiritual practices, it is no less clear that they are essentially contained in the inner core of the tradition, that
is quintessential prayer:

The Dhikr contains the whole Law (Shari’ah) and it is the reason for the existence of the whole Law;30
this is declared by the Koranic verse: “Verily prayer (the exoteric practice) prevents man from committing what is
shameful (sullying) and blameworthy; and verily the remembrance (invocation) of God (the esoteric practice) is greater. (Sura of
the Spider, 45).31 The formula “the remembrance of God is greater” or “the greatest thing”
(Wa la-dhikru ‘Llahi akbar) evokes and paraphrases the following words from the Canonical Prayer: “God is
greater” or “the greatest” (Allahu akbar) and this indicates a mysterious connection between God and His
Name; it also indicates a certain relativity — from the point of view of gnosis — of the outward rites, which are
nevertheless indispensable in principle and in the majority of cases.32 In this connection we could also quote the
following hadith: one of the Companions said to the Prophet: “0 Messenger of God, the prescriptions of Islam are too
numerous for me; tell me something that I can hold fast to.” The Prophet replied: “Let thy tongue always be supple (in
movement) with the mention (the remembrance) of God.” This hadith, like the verse we have just quoted, expresses by
allusion (isharah) the principle of the inherence of the whole Shari’ah in the Dhikr alone.33

The concentration on quintessential prayer is both the ultimate limit of the interiorizing and “deepening of the
symbols of exoterism” –in so far as the Divine Name is the essence of the whole tradition-- and the supreme
“affirmation of the independence of the essence vis-à-vis form“ ---inasmuch as it may absorb the whole
traditional form. 34

As for the non-identification of the gnostic with the limitative aspects of the collective ambience of a given tradition, Schuon
has extensively delved into this issue, especially in Sufism, veil and quintessence. This question is essentially connected
to Schuon’s discussion of the spiritual function of the caste system. The advantage of the Hindu system is that it greatly
favors the purity of esoteric spirituality; in the absence of such a system, esoterism becomes too closely linked with the average
collective mentality which cannot be proportionate to the demands of a disinterested perspective or, in other words, cannot be
entirely free from denominational narcissism.35

Let us conclude with a few further reflections on Schuon and Nasr's perspectives on religion in the modern world. Schuon's
explicit objective is minimally expressed as a wish to restore the sense of prayer in the life of a few of his readers: "if our
writings had on average no other result than that of restituting for some this saving boat that is prayer we would owe to God to be
profoundly satisfied." 36 This objective concerns individuals, not traditions as such, and it has no confessional
priority nor agenda. Note also that Schuon has no illusions concerning the present state of formal religions; he writes, in this
connection, "in the past the prince of darkness fought against religions mostly from outside, (…) in our times, he has added
to this fight a new stratagem (…) that consists in taking over religions from within, and he has widely succeeded in this,
in the world of Islam as well as in Judaism and Christianity."37 Nasr is certainly aware of the deviations and
corruption of traditional religions in the modern world. His book on Traditional Islam in the Modern World is the best
evidence for this. However, he seems to place a greater emphasis on the spiritual function of traditional heritages in the
eschatological destiny of the world. His conclusive remarks in the series "Searching for God in America" particularly emphasizes
the role of Islam in this respect, a role that he defines as "upholding the promise of the sacred until the end of times."
38And God knows best.