Beyond Borders: Why Roland Faber
Thinks Faith Needs a Bigger Ocean
Adis Duderija
Adis Duderija is a first-generation Bosnian-Australian. He obtained his Ph. D in 2010 at the Centre for Muslim States and Societies at the University of western Australia on interpretational methodologies of Qur’an and Sunna in Neo-Traditional Salafism and Progressive Islam. He is currently an academic at Griffith University in Brisbane Australia where he teaches courses on Islam and Gender, Islamic intellectual tradition and Islam and Muslims in the West. He is the author of 9 books on various aspects of Islamic intellectual tradition (progressive Islam, Qur;anic hermeneutics, the concept of sunna, maqasid al shari’a, Salafism) and Islam and Muslims in the West and over 100 academic publications on these subjects...more
See also: Reasons Why I Value Process Thought: Adis Duderija and Beyond the Unmoved Mover: Why Process Theology Offers a Better God for our Time
See also: Reasons Why I Value Process Thought: Adis Duderija and Beyond the Unmoved Mover: Why Process Theology Offers a Better God for our Time
Religion still matters. It shapes cultures, inspires art, and gives meaning to billions of lives. But it also divides. Too often, faith becomes a weapon fuelling hatred, violence, and fear. In a world already facing climate change, war, and inequality, these divisions are dangerous. So, what can religion do? Can it still be a force for peace and hope?
Roland Faber’s book The Ocean of God: On the Transreligious Future of Religions offers a bold answer. He argues that the future of faith will not be saved by building higher walls or by settling for polite tolerance. Instead, religions must step into a wider ocean—a “transreligious” future where traditions meet, learn, and grow together.
Why This Matters Now
Faber does not exaggerate the stakes. If religions cannot live together, the result could be catastrophic. History shows us what happens when faith becomes a battlefield. In an age of nuclear weapons and ecological collapse, the cost of religious conflict could be global ruin.
But Faber’s vision is not only about avoiding disaster. It is about finding deeper meaning. Every religion asks the big questions: Who are we? Why are we here? How should we live? These questions are too big for one tradition alone. No single shoreline can contain the whole ocean of truth.
Beyond Tolerance
For decades, interfaith dialogue has been the answer. But Faber says this is not enough. Too often, dialogue is polite but shallow. It avoids hard questions. It does not change hearts or structures. Real engagement means more than tolerance. It means listening deeply, sharing honestly, and even being willing to change.
Faber also challenges the old idea of “world religions.” This neat map of faiths—Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and so on is a modern invention. It oversimplifies the rich diversity within each tradition. Religions are not fixed boxes. They are living, changing processes. They grow, adapt, and interact.
What Does “Transreligious” Mean?
Faber’s key idea is the “transreligious quest.” This is not about creating a new global religion. It is not about blending all faiths into one. Instead, it is about letting traditions interact and enrich each other. It is about moving beyond rigid boundaries without erasing difference.
To explain this, Faber draws on two sources: process philosophy and the Bahá’í Faith.
Together, these ideas suggest a new way of thinking about religious identity. Faith is not a fortress. It is a harbor—open to the sea, ready for exchange.
Two Dimensions of Pluralism
Faber explains that pluralism has two dimensions:
Both matter. If we focus only on diversity, we risk fragmentation. If we focus only on unity, we erase difference. The challenge is to hold both together. This is what Faber calls a “porous” understanding of identity—firm enough to have shape, open enough to allow flow.
A New Kind of Dialogue
What does this look like in practice? Faber calls for a new kind of conversation: transreligious discourse. Instead of comparing doctrines to find sameness or difference, we should look for resonance—moments where traditions can learn from each other. The goal is not to win arguments. It is to grow in understanding.
Faber offers three principles for this new approach:
The Ocean Ahead
So, what is Faber really asking? He is asking religions to imagine themselves differently. Not as isolated islands, but as ships on a shared sea. Not as closed systems, but as living traditions that can learn, adapt, and grow.
This does not mean giving up identity. It means deepening it. A faith that never changes is a faith that dies. A faith that engages others can become more itself. The future of religion, Faber argues, depends on this openness.
The world is already interconnected. Economies, technologies, and cultures flow across borders. Our spiritual life must do the same. If religions cling to exclusivity, they will become brittle—and dangerous. If they embrace the ocean, they can become a source of peace and creativity.
Faber’s vision is not utopian. It is realistic. The alternative is clear: more conflict, more division, more suffering. The choice is ours.
The ocean is wide. The question for us is: will we leave the shore?
Roland Faber’s book The Ocean of God: On the Transreligious Future of Religions offers a bold answer. He argues that the future of faith will not be saved by building higher walls or by settling for polite tolerance. Instead, religions must step into a wider ocean—a “transreligious” future where traditions meet, learn, and grow together.
Why This Matters Now
Faber does not exaggerate the stakes. If religions cannot live together, the result could be catastrophic. History shows us what happens when faith becomes a battlefield. In an age of nuclear weapons and ecological collapse, the cost of religious conflict could be global ruin.
But Faber’s vision is not only about avoiding disaster. It is about finding deeper meaning. Every religion asks the big questions: Who are we? Why are we here? How should we live? These questions are too big for one tradition alone. No single shoreline can contain the whole ocean of truth.
Beyond Tolerance
For decades, interfaith dialogue has been the answer. But Faber says this is not enough. Too often, dialogue is polite but shallow. It avoids hard questions. It does not change hearts or structures. Real engagement means more than tolerance. It means listening deeply, sharing honestly, and even being willing to change.
Faber also challenges the old idea of “world religions.” This neat map of faiths—Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, and so on is a modern invention. It oversimplifies the rich diversity within each tradition. Religions are not fixed boxes. They are living, changing processes. They grow, adapt, and interact.
What Does “Transreligious” Mean?
Faber’s key idea is the “transreligious quest.” This is not about creating a new global religion. It is not about blending all faiths into one. Instead, it is about letting traditions interact and enrich each other. It is about moving beyond rigid boundaries without erasing difference.
To explain this, Faber draws on two sources: process philosophy and the Bahá’í Faith.
- Process thought (inspired by Alfred North Whitehead) sees reality as dynamic and relational. Everything is in process. Nothing is fixed. This means religions, too, are not static systems. They are evolving events.
- The Bahá’í Faith teaches that all religions share a common origin and purpose. Unity does not mean sameness. It means connection. It means seeing diversity as part of a larger whole.
Together, these ideas suggest a new way of thinking about religious identity. Faith is not a fortress. It is a harbor—open to the sea, ready for exchange.
Two Dimensions of Pluralism
Faber explains that pluralism has two dimensions:
- Horizontal pluralism: the diversity of religions—their different beliefs, practices, and histories.
- Vertical pluralism: the deeper unity that links them—the shared spiritual reality beneath the surface.
Both matter. If we focus only on diversity, we risk fragmentation. If we focus only on unity, we erase difference. The challenge is to hold both together. This is what Faber calls a “porous” understanding of identity—firm enough to have shape, open enough to allow flow.
A New Kind of Dialogue
What does this look like in practice? Faber calls for a new kind of conversation: transreligious discourse. Instead of comparing doctrines to find sameness or difference, we should look for resonance—moments where traditions can learn from each other. The goal is not to win arguments. It is to grow in understanding.
Faber offers three principles for this new approach:
- Conviviality: Faith must serve life—human survival and the health of the planet. A religion that destroys life cannot claim truth.
- Coinhabitation: Religions must share space, not fight for territory. They must learn to live together, not just side by side.
- Minority perspective: Listen to voices on the margins such as women, indigenous communities, oppressed groups. These voices often hold the key to real transformation.
The Ocean Ahead
So, what is Faber really asking? He is asking religions to imagine themselves differently. Not as isolated islands, but as ships on a shared sea. Not as closed systems, but as living traditions that can learn, adapt, and grow.
This does not mean giving up identity. It means deepening it. A faith that never changes is a faith that dies. A faith that engages others can become more itself. The future of religion, Faber argues, depends on this openness.
The world is already interconnected. Economies, technologies, and cultures flow across borders. Our spiritual life must do the same. If religions cling to exclusivity, they will become brittle—and dangerous. If they embrace the ocean, they can become a source of peace and creativity.
Faber’s vision is not utopian. It is realistic. The alternative is clear: more conflict, more division, more suffering. The choice is ours.
The ocean is wide. The question for us is: will we leave the shore?