Building Hope: The Final Statement

Here is the Final Statement from the 10-day Building Hope Conference of the Reconciliation Program at the Center for Faith and Culture at Yale Divinity. It was a significant, transformative, "intercultural" and "interreligious" time.

Cross-Cultural Friendship Revisited

I think my previous post, "Is It Possible to Be Friends With Someone of Another Culture or Religion?" may have come across that it was hopeless. I didn't mean to leave it that way, just to raise the question, to reflect on the fact that building friendship with someone from a different culture or religion can be tricky, can present surprises and challenges along the way, because of our different expectations about friendship and ways of approaching friendship.

I know, for example, that I have disappointed Arab friends at different times. Americans tend to be quickly "friendly," with people we barely know; but as individualists (culturally), and due to various factors, we have boundaries around the expectations between friends. Even a good friend, for example, might call and need help, but will accept various excuses if it doesn't work out; an Arab, though, in general, would never not help a friend, even if it were very inconvenient.

That's the thing. Friendship, I think, is about how deeply you can share with another person. It's about trust. And it's about what you can depend on, what you can expect. It's about loyalty, who will stick by you, and through what? At the very least, a cross-cultural or cross-religious friendship takes time, perhaps (?) longer than one with someone culturally and religiously closer. (And for me, there are levels or degrees of relationship, of friendship, or perhaps circles.)

So to conclude, I made some new friends this past week at the "Building Hope" Conference - some new Christian friends (American and other), some new Jewish friends (mostly Orthodox, and from different countries), and some new Muslim friends (from America and from both Muslim-majority and Muslim-minority lands). But I use the term carefully - we were "friendly" with each other, and we began sharing stories (some of them deep, profound, very personal); we began (at least some of us with some others) talking about our "personal" lives, our families. We began...we laid a foundation. But it will take time for the relationships to go deep, to get to know each other well, build trust. And we'll probably have to pass through periods/areas of Miroslav's "non-understanding."

And to return to Tunisia, I do have strong Tunisian friendships. I lived there for 12 years, and spent thousands of hours with many different people. I know several Tunisian friends who I absolutely can count on - if I showed up in Tunisia, homeless (or not), and in need (of any kind), they would take me in (no questions asked), give me money or whatever I needed, and make sure I was all right. They would treat me (in my book) as if I were family. And that's partly the beauty of the Tunisian (Arab, Muslim) cultural way of treating people you have spent much time with. 

Deeply Committed Yet Open to The "Other" - Jews, Christians and Muslims Seeking the Common Good

The “Building Hope: Muslims, Christians and Jews Seeking the Common Good” conference has come to an end. What an amazing time.

Normally, “interfaith” activities tend to attract more “liberal” or “progressive” people, in any of the faith traditions. Because of that, many of the more “conservative” people in each of the faith traditions tend to look on these gatherings and activities with suspicion – suspicion that the participants are acting as if “all roads lead to God” or all religions are the same or everything is relative; i.e., that we are “giving away the farm.”

In a way, at the heart of this conference was the question, can we as people of faith be deeply committed to our own faith, but yet relate to others – equally committed to their faith – with respect, and even beyond that, build relationships where we understand each other, can discuss our differences (even deep ones) frankly, and even become friends (in spite of our differences)? Can we experience transformative relationship with “the Other” - transformative, not in that we lose our own faith or distinctives, but in the sense that we grow as human beings with “large hearts,” able (like God) to embrace others whether they agree with us or not, to care for them as human beings, and to work together to seek the “common good” (the good of humanity), and not just look out for our own interests (hmm, that makes me think of the statement in the New Testament, “do not just look out for your own interests” - could that possibly include people of other faiths?).

For me as an Anthropologist, this is very much about what I often write about, growing from an Ethnocentric perspective on life, the world, faith, God – i.e., where the worldview and ways of my people are the only one I know – to an Ethnorelative (or Ethnosensitive) experience, recognizing that there are other worldviews and ways, and being able to enter into the life, the world, the perspectives of others, and learning to appreciate them as they are (different from me). This does not mean losing oneself, but rather, growing, expanding.

I think this conference was a smashing success. I am astounded, really. We were Christians (including evangelical, Catholic, and Oriental Orthodox, and several different countries), Jews (mainly Orthodox, but including Reform and Conservative, and both Ashkenazi and Sephardi, and again from different countries including Israel), and Muslims (both Sunni and Shiite, and from different countries) – all deeply committed, the kind of people you might expect to clash. And yet, from the start, there was respect, a desire to know and understand, an openness to listening and learning and changing, in the context of sharing with each other our deep commitments, and asking each other some hard questions.

A highlight, which I've written about, was visiting each other's places of worship. For many of us, it was the first time in one of the settings (or both). And everyone, as far as I heard, considered it a deeply meaningful and impactful experience. Openness to “the Other.” Wow.

Another highlight, probably the heart of the time, was the meals together and the opportunity to just “hang out,” getting to know each other. We all discovered, I think, the great power of personal relationship to transform our experience and perspectives. We tend to live with stereotypes of “the Other.” Only through relationship with real people can we break those strereotypes. (Something else that helped us greatly was humor – I'm not sure I knew that Orthodox Jews and Muslims could be so funny! Maybe we should start a new comedy tour?)

Last night as we reflected back on the 10 days, we used the metaphor of seeing through different glasses. I would probably sum up this experience for me by saying, developing new friendships with other Christians, Orthodox Jews, and Muslims, has helped me to see Jesus more clearly. I am more thankful than ever, personally, for who he is and what he has done and daily does for me, for the fact that he came to give life and freedom.

I look forward to continuing to develop the relationships with my new friends, learning about myself, others, and God along the way.

For more reflections, from a perspective of Peacemaking, see http://salemshalom.blogspot.com/.

Culture Quote of the Day - Through the Eyes of the Other

“if we are to move forward [e.g., in better relationships between Christians, Jews and Muslims], we need to understand what the world looks like through the eyes of another person” 

(participant in the Building Hope Conference)

This pretty much applies to every in every domain, whether Muslims, Jews and Christians toward each other, or men and women, or whites and people of color, or different nationalities, etc.

Culture Cartoon of the Day - "Anthropologists!"

On the lighter side, one of the challenges facing Anthropologists, in our search for true understanding of other cultures:

"Christian Worship"?

I used the phrase "Christian worship" in my title the last two days, re. my experiencing of worshiping God in the context of attending Friday (Muslim) prayers, and an Orthodox Jewish Shabbat service.

Let me return for a moment to that title. More accurately, I would have titled the postings, "A Christian Worshiping..." (at or in the context of, these other settings, or among these other worshipers in their faith context). "Christian worship" might imply that there is something organized, objective, a structure and approach, a liturgy, etc., that I mean. And how could you do that at a masjad or synagogue?

To me as a Christian, though, worship is not about - and doesn't require - liturgy and a specific place, qualified religious leaders, etc. Worship is about connecting with God in one's heart and mind and spirit. It's about being stirred to love him and respond to him, to see and respond to his glory and majesty, to offer one's heart and life to him in service (in Arabic, service and worship are one and the same word).

Jesus said, "a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in the Spirit and in truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth." (John 4:23-24)

Note that he said this to a Samaritan woman. As a Rabbi, it was questionable that he took his disciples through Samaria rather than the long way around, and downright scandalous that he spoke to a woman. And given that the Samaritans had what to the Jews was a false religion, it is powerful that he did not argue religion, or compare them, etc., but simply took the discussion to a new level.

I just wanted to clarify that, for someone who might think it odd to talk of "Christian worship" in a masjad or synagogue.

"God is spirit, and his worshipers must worship in the Spirit and in truth."

I am thankful that this weekend, I had opportunity not only to worship God in a church setting, but also in a masjad and a synagogue. It made for a rich weekend.

Christian Worship in a Synagogue?

Yesterday I had the opportunity for the first time, to attend an Orthodox Jewish prayer service. I found it very interesting, in every respect. I found myself wondering about the role of women in Orthodox Judaism, and about the shape/form of "feminist" movements in that context. I was struck by the reverence, the sense of the sacred, especially toward the Torah - the way it is kept in a special place, the way it is treated, brought out, walked around the room, the obvious reverence and respect the worshipers have for their sacred book.

The elements of the service, from my observation, were prayers, the bringing out of the Torah, a very long section (the longest) where the Torah is read, and a brief message.

During the Torah reading, seven of the male participants read sections. Everything was in Hebrew, of course. We had copies of the Scripture in Hebrew, with an English translation, and with rabbinic commentary in English. I found it fascinating to read both the text - translated slightly differently, in places, than the Old Testament in our Christian Bible - and the commentary.

I have determined to get myself one of these copies of the "Old Testament," to study the Jewish understanding of the Jewish Scriptures. It has just hit me, for the first time, that what I have is a Christian understanding of Judaism, and I would like to supplement that with the Jewish understanding of their faith. I expect it will be an eye-opening and enriching study.

As in the case of my time observing the Friday prayers, I found myself deeply stirred and worshiping God, in the Jewish prayer service. One point of connection, obviously, was that we were in a shared text, one that I have read all my life. But I was also stirred, through being in the Jewish Scripture, and thinking of their understanding of God in that context (apart from the New Testament and Jewish), to reflect on God, his holiness, his relationship with his people in times past, and whether I revere and honor God as deeply as what I observed among a people who will not even speak his name, but refer to him as "the Name" (Hashem).

Thank you, God, for stirring my heart and my faith in my journey among "the other."