When the dragon was complete, the priests began an elaborate ceremony replete with drama, dancing, music and even some martial arts. As about 200 people watched the colorful scene unfold in a courtyard at San Diego State University, the dragon was consecrated and blessings were sought.
Daoism is a Chinese tradition dating back more than 2,000 years. The ritual, known as "Pacifying the Dragon," is a rare one.
"I'm in my 60s and I'm from China and I've never seen it," said Paul Wong, dean of SDSU's College of Arts and Letters.
Performed by priests from Taiwan, the event was held in conjunction with the American Academy of Religion, which drew thousands of religious studies professors, theologians and other scholars to San Diego.
Over the four-day meeting, in panel discussions and speeches that began at breakfast time and went well beyond dinner, men and women who teach and study belief systems debated and dissected the things that people hold sacred.
But nowhere, perhaps, was the symbolism so vivid as in the Daoist ceremony, where the rice dragon that represents the Earth's inner energy, was calmed so that the world could be in harmony.
The ceremony is usually reserved for the dedication of a new temple. The aim there is to calm whatever disruption is created by construction. But for San Diego, the priests and organizers also sought another kind of calming in the aftermath of the October wildfires that destroyed homes and land across much of Southern California.
It's this tying together of ancient ceremony with the real world that helps make rituals relevant, said Julius Tsai, who teaches at SDSU's religious studies department and organized the "Pacifying the Dragon" event.
"Ritual, or ceremony, fulfills a deep-seated humanemotional need," Tsai said.
"Ritual also has the power to bring communities together and to build community."
But as scholars can testify, what gives meaning to some is an anathema to others. Just ask the four young graduate students who gave a presentation at the American Academy of Religion on the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster.
The Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster grew out of a backlash against biblical creationists in Kansas who wanted intelligent design taught in public schools as an alternative to evolution. The movement's founder dashed off a letter to the state school board demanding his theory also be taught: that the world was created by a Flying Spaghetti Monster.
Fueled by the Internet, the craze became a pop culture hit. Its followers are known as "Pastafarians." Its icon is a spoof of Michelangelo's "Creation" portrait, with Adam reaching out to touch a noodle.
But the four graduate students in religion argue that this is a parody with a purpose.
"I think it's a really serious issue because we're raising a generation of kids who don't believe in evolution and don't know what science is for," said Luke Johnston, a doctoral student at the University of Florida.
"Religion is a constructed term created by scholars," said Sam Snyder, who also goes to the University of Florida. "Religion is also in the hands of the public to do what they will. ... So how do we study that?"
Snyder and Johnston teamed up with Gavin Van Horn, also from Florida, and Alyssa Beall, from Syracuse University, for the presentation.
"This really wouldn't have happened without the Internet," Beall notes of the Flying Spaghetti Monster craze. But again, there is a serious side. "People are feeling more free to explore what it means to be religious," she said.
All four reject the suggestion that America is becoming a secular society. So does Emilie Townes, a Yale Divinity School professor and the new president of the American Academy of Religion.
Religious belief, said Townes, "is a part of the fabric of who we are as a nation," she said.
Given this devotion, the graduate students and the professor say it's crucial to be literate about the religion.
If you don't understand each other's belief systems, then how can you talk to each other? asks Snyder.
"If we want to leave the world a better place, then people have to think and ask questions," Johnston adds.
Townes is more specific. "Bad understanding of religions can lead to bad public policy, and that to me can be very destructive," she said.
She believes that because Americans don't understand Islam, they've tended to demonize all Muslims. "Then we take that misunderstanding and start to sanction government policies and we get what we have now - which is a big mess," Townes said.
Making pluralism work will be up to committed people of all faiths "who really want to understand the other and live with the other," said Charles Taylor, a Canadian philosopher who recently won the prestigious Templeton Prize for religion.
His life's work has focused on the belief that violence and bigotry can only be solved by considering both their secular and religious roots. A Catholic, Taylor rejects the suggestion that pluralism and the acceptance of other religions weakens a person's own faith.
"Having a deep faith actually facilitates your understanding of other people's deep faith," he said.
Many scholars interviewed at the convention said college courses about world religions are packed.
Part of the interest is fueled by 9/11 and questions about Islam. "They want to know the truth," said Beall, who teaches an introduction to religion course at Syracuse.
But another motivation is a sense that the world is in chaos and there needs to be another way to live, Townes said. Understanding each other's faiths, and their complexities, may be part of the solution.
"Students are hungry to make a difference," she said. "They are so concerned about how mean-spirited the world is becoming."
WORLD RELIGIONS
Christian 33%
Muslim 19.6%
Hindu 13.4%
Chinese folk religions 6.4%
Buddhist 5.9%
Sikh 0.4%
Jewish 0.2%
Other religions 5.9%
Atheist 2.5%
Nonreligious 12.7%
Source: Religioustolerance.org (based on 2000 world population).
