Saturday evening Jan. 23: U2charist at St. David’s, Austin
Some final peaceful thoughts on inter-faith relations from my manuscript for The Other Jesus in honor of MartinLuther King, Jr., of blessed memory:These most recent paragraphs (see previous posts) veer precariously close to a theological belief called universalism, and I am not suggesting universal salvation, exactly, although I have here quoted others who find God moving in each faithful heart. The hidden truths of salvation are, like other things, way above my pay grade; I do not know who God will choose to redeem any more than I know how the ultimate shape of our eternal life with God will look. All I can honestly say is that I believe I have found the path of God’s love for my own life in a faithful belief in Jesus Christ and practice of his teachings, and that I cannot imagine myself walking any other path.
But that is a long way from saying that I don’t believe anyone else should walk an other path, and, strangely enough, my life and faith would be diminished if everyone else were Christian. I have learned how to walk my own path in a more faithful and just way from many on those other paths. I have learned from Jews about holiness and setting things apart, about justice, about speaking truth to power, about faith in the One God. I have learned from Muslims about submission to the will of God, about charity and compassion as central elements of true faith, about mystical union with the Divine. I have learned from Buddhists about inner attention, about mindfulness in the present moment, about gentleness, about right speaking. When we truly see and hear others, we can paradoxically, as Robert McAfee Brown suggested, see ourselves more clearly. Rodger Kamenetz wrote of his own journey to Tibet that once he had seen Judaism contrasted with Tibetan Buddhism, he understood his own faith tradition as “not just an ethnicity or an identity, but a way of life, and a spiritual path, as profound as any other.” [1] Encountering another faith tradition illuminated his own path, and actually opened up a new life of faith for him within his own tradition.
I am writing this chapter in Northern New Mexico at the Casa del Sol retreat center at Ghost Ranch. Nearby are holy places of Catholic pilgrimage, pueblos where Native American rites and dances are still practiced on Christian holy days, a community of Sikhs, a bunch of Buddhists, a mosque and Muslim study center. In this landscape marked by different faiths and practices, the community that has formed around Casa del Sol has demonstrated how interfaith relations might work. A rabbi, a Muslim teacher, and a Christian minister often join to lead educational programs, spiritual teachings, and worship here, each pulling from their own traditions, each learning from each other, and through their willingness to interact and dialogue, each demonstrating love and respect for other traditions. When I lead my Wisdom of the Desert retreat at Casa each June, I speak out of my Christian tradition, relating the wisdom of Jesus, recalling the Desert Mothers and Fathers. But I also read Sufi Muslim stories, Jewish wisdom tales, even the occasional Buddhist saying (aren’t those steppes deserts, after all?). I am a Christian who understands myself, my God, and my life through the window of my faith, but I often get strength for the journey from our brothers and sisters who have found meaning elsewhere.
Our answer about how to live in a world filled with faiths and denominations, is that we are not called to be, as the New Atheists would argue, less faithful, but to be more faithful. In response to other traditions and cultures, we are called to be more fully Christian, believing, practicing love and compassion, treating each person we meet as though she were Christ. We are called to work with other Christians and with all those of good will to feed the poor, heal the sick, restore the damage we have done to our planet, fight for peace, love each other. We are called to live in hope and trust. We are called to continue to believe that God is working in the world, and that this may be happening in ways that are not obvious or even recognizable to me.
And finally, we are called to continue journeying faithfully as followers of Christ even though others may not understand what we do or why. If we journey faithfully and thoughtfully, eventually they may understand, and eventually the negative associations that people have had with followers of Christ may drop away. Some might join us in our ecclesias; some might form new ones; others may pursue other paths. But if we live with love and compassion, then people will see the connection between Jesus, the founder of our faith, and his followers that now sometimes eludes them, and we will be doing the important work that God gives to every Christian: living so that others can see the God of Love reflected in what we say and do.
[1] Rodger Kamenetz, The Jew in the Lotus: A Poet’s Rediscovery of Jewish Identity in Buddhist India (New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 1994), 280.
Leave a Reply