Learning how to entertain beliefs

I've been reading Dylan's Visions of Sin (Penguin 2004) in which Christopher Ricks, in writing about the benefit of listening to Dylan's 'born-again' songs, has the following pertinent warning, from one atheist to others, about the ease with which liberals can become illiberal:

"One of the ways in which art is invaluable is by giving us sympathetic access to systems of belief that are not our own. How else could it enlarge our sympathies? It is our responsibility not only to believe but to learn how to entertain beliefs. In the words of William Empson:

'It seems to me that the chief function of imaginative literature is to make you realise that other people are very various, many of them quite different from you, with different "systems of value" as well.

The main purpose of reading imaginative literature is to grasp a wide variety of experience, imagining people with codes and customs very unlike our own.

It strikes me that modern critics, whether as a result of the neo-Christian movement or not, have become oddly resistant to admitting that there is more than one code of morals in the world, whereas the central purpose of reading imaginative literature is accustom yourself to this basic fact.' ...

I am not myself a Christian believer, being an atheist. One delight of Dylan's Christian songs can arise from finding (to your surprise and not chagrin) that your own system of beliefs doesn't have a monopoly of intuition, sensitivity, scruple, and concern. Most Dylan-lovers are presumed to be liberals, and the big trap for liberals is always that our liberalism may make us very illiberal about other people's sometimes letting us all down by declining to be liberals ... You can believe whatever you like so long as it's liberal: this isn't any less dogmatic than Christianity, and has its own way of being menacingly coercive."

Ricks' warning is one that is generally not heeded by the likes of Richard Dawkins and Polly Toynbee. However, it is an argument that does not only apply to those who view themselves as atheists or liberals. Just as atheists can benefit from appreciation of the art of Christians, so Christians can benefit from the art of those of other and of no faith.

This, it seems to me, is an overlooked implication of todays Gospel reading (Luke 10. 25-37), the parable of the Good Samaritan. In this parable the Jewish character receives help from the Samaritan despite the differences of culture, faith and enmity between them. The contemporary parallel for us to draw may be that of Christians receiving from people of other faiths (or none). We tend to think of the parable only in terms of our giving help to others (and this is clearly a central element of Jesus' teaching here and elsewhere - our neighbour is anyone in need regardless of creed or colour) but the unexpected twist in the story in that the person who sees himself as part of God's chosen people receives help from a person that he thinks is outside of God's chosen people. The challenge of this is that we reflect on what it is that we can receive from people of other faiths and of none. Ricks' argument is one that can help us with this.

The Engaging with Faith Communities resource pack from the Contextual Theology Centre contains resources (including material on the parable of the Good Samaritan) that can help in reflecting of this issue.