Faith Bridges

It has been several months since my fellowship with IFYC and my work with URI, and almost two months since I first arrived in Turkey. What has effected me most recently was the recent earthquake in the city of Van, and the responses and aftermath of the tragedy. I saw great love being expressed during this quake, a love emulated in the following story.

It is the story of why g-d chose Mt. Moriah (according to Jewish belief) as the site for his temple, the place where he would dwell on this earth. The story goes as this: there were two brothers, one single, the other married. At harvest time, each one took some bags of grain secretly to the other’s field. The married one felt sorry for the single one and the single one felt that the married one, who had many children, needed more grain. One night, as they were sneaking over to each other’s field, they bumped into each other, realized what the other one was doing, and embraced. G-d saw what happened that night, a night where such love was expressed that is where he would want his temple to be. It was in the aftermath of the earthquake that took place in Van, Turkey that I saw this love truly expressed, a love that should be a model to the rest of the world. A love that despite a long civil war that the University students I study with rushed to help those affected by the earthquake. They saw past ethnic differences and conflict, and did what they knew was right.

As some of you may know, there has been an ongoing civil war between the Turkish state and the largely Kurdish separatist organization the Kurdistan Worker’s Party, or PKK. Despite this inter communal conflict and the prejudice many Kurds in Turkey face, I have never seen the message of love thy neighbor more better practiced than from my fellow Turkish students. They made heroic efforts to get aid to the victims of the earthquake in Van, which is largely a Kurdish city. To me, what stands out is that it is my fellow students who embodied the story of why g-d chose Mt. Moriah for his temple-acts of such love that truly encompasses g-d’s purpose for mankind.

Seeing this act of love, there are still two brothers who can learn from this story and from the actions of the Turkish students. The story of g-d choosing the temple mount, I believe, refers to the two brothers of Isaac and Ishmael-one, the father of Jacob who fathered the 12 tribes of Israel and Ishmael, father of the Arabs and Muslims, and all of whom are all prophets in Islam and important figures in Judaism. It is my belief that there will not be true peace in the holy land until these brother’s descendants recognize each other as the brothers under Abraham, and emulate the altruism and love that was meant to be.

Through this, perhaps we can build the kingdom of heaven Jesus spoke of by seeing past differences such as religion and nationality, see ourselves as one human family, and emulate this passage from the Qur’an: “O mankind, indeed We have created you from male and female and made you peoples and tribes that you may know one another. Indeed, the most noble of you in the sight of Allah is the most righteous of you. Indeed, Allah is Knowing and Acquainted.” (49:13).

This is my first blog post for my year studying abroad in Istanbul. Istanbul so far has been a wonderful host to me, hosting me with beautiful architecture and lots of history, a city comprising Islamic, Orthodox Christian, and even Jewish influence. The Turks have been a welcoming people, and being here for a week I can only begin to fathom what the upcoming year will be like.

In this first post I will address what I have seen of the Greek Orthodox presence in Istanbul, mostly with my trip to the largest of the Princes Islands right off of Istanbul, the island of Buyukada. First I will take note that while this is largely a Muslim city with over 3,000 mosques, there are churches scattered throughout the city. The church that stood out to me the most was the large Orthodox church in Taksim square, a beautiful building that stands out from any of the mosques in the area as an eye catching building in the center of the city. To me, seeing a church as a major land mark in a Muslim majority city reveals something about the level of co-existence between religious groups in Istanbul for much of it’s history.

The hallmark of this past week has been my visit to the island of Buyukada. The largest of the famous Princes Islands, the island is home to many beautiful houses and touristy shops. After stopping at a beach with the group of exchange students I was with, we decided to trek up to the Monastery of St. George, a Byzantine-era Greek Orthodox monastery that was no longer in use, but still open to the public.

After hiking for two kilometers up to the top of the island, I was glad to behold the beauty of the ancient and humble monastery along with the views of neighboring Istanbul. We decided to relax a bit, and after taking a few shots of the outside of the building I went inside to check it out. On the inside were two rooms, with candles put in trays of sand and signs saying that no cameras or phones were allowed, so unfortunately I will not have pictures of the inside. I was wearing shorts, and a young Greek boy who was managing the building told me I had to wear long pants. After putting on long pants, I walked in and was overcome with amazement at the beauty of the inside of the monastery. All over were icons of various images, with Mary and Baby Jesus in one part, another with the last supper, and icons of saints and other figures all over the walls and ceiling. At the front was a picture of St. George slaying a dragon with watches all over the icon (unsure of why). Music was playing in the background, and the air was filled with the smell of incense.

It is hard to describe my emotions being in the main chamber. For some reason I do not understand, I began to cry, and somehow sensing that there was the presence of g-d where I was. Seeing baby Jesus other icons of Jesus and other saints and witnessing the sight of love and grandeur of the icons made me feel closer to g-d. It was then that I saw the wish box, made a few wishes and prayers, some of the most sincere prayers I had ever made. Afterwords, I headed back home on the ferry, witnessing the beautiful sunset.

Besides for my appreciation of the monastery and it’s icons, something else caught my attention. While Istanbul today has a very small Christian population, I noticed that it was mostly Muslim Turks who were praying in what was a Christian center of worship. I had heard of this happening, where religions often share each other’s centers of worship but had not seen it until now. To me, it demonstrated a second level of co-existence, one where people did not feel bound to one place of worship or one style of religious observance and spirituality.

I did not expect to see Muslims praying in a church, but my assumptions were proven wrong. While I do believe it is important to have clergy and scholars to uphold religious doctrine, to me it shows how religion is really about one’s own relationship with g-d, and one can go about that however they feel is best in their heart. This is what truly matters with religion, and seeing this to me demonstrated a great level of appreciation of other religions from Muslims that we could learn from in the United States. This is what I saw on Buyukada, and this type of interfaith worship showed how both Muslims and Christians could connect to g-d in the same places. Never before had I seen something so interfaithy. Who knows what else Istanbul has in store for me.

It is ironic that my last day working for the United Religions Initiative (URI) would occur on the 10th anniversary of September 11th. On this last day, I had the pleasure of meeting up with my boss Krithika and two Muslim and two Jewish youth to visit two Buddhist ceremonies. First we went to a ceremony with the Palo Alto Buddhist temple in Mitchell Park in Palo Alto, where we met ministers of the Jodo Shinshu or True Pure Land sect of Japanese Buddhism and witnessed their chanting. We then headed to a 9/11 memorial service at the Head Temple of the Shinnyo-en USA Buddhist order in Redwood City. The youth got to learn a little about Buddhism while watching speakers from different faiths recite religious texts about peace from their various religious traditions. We then had a tour of the temple, and learned about Sakyamuni Buddha and his teachings about peace.

This last day was an amazing culmination of my summer at URI, being able to bring Muslim and Jewish youth together to learn about the various Japanese Buddhist traditions, and lay the foundations for the Bay Area Interfaith Youth Network. We learned about the Buddhist teachings of compassion and love, something I believe both our faiths can greatly benefit from in these tumultuous times. Unfortunately I forgot to take pictures, but I can not be more happy to begin my adventure in Turkey having been able to bring young people together today to set the foundations for interfaith youth work in the Bay Area.

Reflecting on my summer at URI, I do not think I have had a better summer in college. I have been part of such a warm and welcoming organization that made me feel like I was part of their planning and inner conversations. I had a lot to say on how our youth program will be structured, and have had an incredible time with my boss Krithika visiting Zoroastrian Temples, meeting Buddhists, and having a variety of adventures traveling around the SF Bay Area. While the commute from Palo Alto to the Presidio was not the best, I looked forward to every day being in the office. I learned so much from the people we worked with in setting the foundation for our high school programs, creating curriculum for the program, and from everyone around me. We are doing such amazing things at URI, from bringing together religious communities in Uganda, combatting poverty, bringing religious communities together in Pakistan, and so much more. URI is the future of religious and spiritual communities. Thank you for this opportunity.

I am so excited to see the future of the network. We have some great young people, and it can only move forward at this point. Whether you are from any of the religious communities we visited reading this post, I hope that we can have the youth from our many traditions come together.

My prayers have been answered, and the seeds have been planted. For me, seeing us all come together cannot be a better blessing on the 10th anniversary of 9/11 as we continue to build bridges and combat xenophobia through compassion.

Reflecting on my experiences visiting the various Buddhist communities, I can see that we all have our similarities in our values to show compassion and strive for justice. May we learn from the beauty of all our teachings and create a different world, starting with the Bay Area. We ended a heartfelt day today, and it is up to you all to carry this on. With that, In-gassho, Assalam Alaikum, and Shalom Alaichem. May peace be upon you. I will end this post with a few quotations from the Jewish, Buddhist, and Muslim traditions.

“And the work of generosity shall be peace; and the effect of generosity will be quietness and security forever.” Isaiah 32:17.

“Teach this triple truth to all: A generous heart, kind speech, and a life of service and compassion are the things which renew humanity.” – Buddha

“And do good unto your parents, and near of kin, and unto orphans, and the needy, and the neighbor from among your own people, and the neighbor who is a stranger, and the friend by your side, and the wayfarer, and those whom you rightfully posses.” (part of Sura 36:4)-Quran

“That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow. That is the whole Torah; the rest is the explanation; go and learn.”-Rabbi Hillel

It is common in today’s rhetoric on religion to discuss the idea of science vs. religion, especially on topics such as evolution, medical research, Genesis, and a host of other issues. In the modern context, religion is often seen as the impediment to human progress and a complete contradiction to science. According to “New Atheists” such as Richard Dawkins, nowadays we need to “shed” religion if we are going to advance as a species. While this may have been true within Christian Europe for hundreds of years, i.e. the Church vs. Galileo, I would advise those involved in science vs. religion debates to look towards our Muslim neighbors. For much of the existence of Islamic civilization, religion and science were not seen as being fundamentally opposed, but as going hand in hand.

This past weekend, I had the pleasure of visiting the “Islamic Science Re-discovered” exhibit at the Tech Museum in San Jose, California. Seeing this exhibit gave me the opportunity to learn about the historical contributions of the Islamic world to the development of many fields such as astronomy, physics, medicine, optics, math and others, but also how the Muslims preserved knowledge that would be crucial for the European Renaissance and Scientific Revolution.

Following the rise of the Islamic caliphates, the Muslims began embarking on an era of scientific advancement beginning in the 700′s AD. Muslims are commanded to “seek knowledge” by the Qur’an and seek knowledge they did. Beginning with the Abbasid caliph (leader of the Muslims) Harun al-Rashid, the Abbasids sponsored the Baghdad “House of Wisdom” which would be one of the major centers of Islamic knowledge for over 400 years. Within the House of Wisdom, numerous advances were made in fields such as medicine and mathematics. The Muslims built upon the knowledge of the ancient Greeks and Indians. They revived Geometry and Trigonometry, which proved to be necessary knowledge for the construction of domes and minarets for their mosques. The scholar Abu’l-Hasan al-Uqlidisi discovered decimals, and it was the Muslims who brought the Indian numerals to Europe. Most famously, the mathematician al-Khwarizmi composed the Kitab al-Jibr, adding onto Greek knowledge and creating modern Algebra.

Muslims also made major contributions to modern medicine. The famous Islamic philosopher, scholar, chemist, doctor, astronomer (and much more) Ibn Cina (Avicenna to the Europeans) composed his famous Book of Medicine, a medical text far ahead of its time which became a standard for European medical students. He also advanced the experimental scientific method, while other Muslim doctors diagramed the human body, perfected surgical techniques, and discovered that contagious diseases such as Tuberculosis were spread through water and human contact. Additionally, Muslims perfected the modern hospital, offering free medical care to all who needed it. This was all influenced by the Quran’s command to treat disease, exercise, seek justice, help the poor, and to and live a life of moderation in order to stay healthy. It shows how religion can be a medical treatment for the suffering of the human condition.

The Muslims were also master engineers. Muslim engineers perfected water technology and added innovations to the water wheel and other mechanisms. Engine designs made by the engineer al-Jazari would lay much of the foundation for structural and civil engineering today. The scientist Ibn Al-Hytham perfected the science of optics, while other Muslim scientists arguably became the fathers of chemistry, using experimental science with elements as opposed to alchemy. Muslims also made much advancement in astronomy, further mapping the night sky, most notably with the observatory of Samarkand, and perfected the astrolabe. The physicist Abbas ibn Firnas of Cordoba completed the first human glider flight, hundreds of years before Leonardo Da Vinci designed any of his flying machines.

In the areas of navigation, most famous are the travels of Ibn Battuta. He was a Qadi (jurist) who travelled across the Islamic world in 29 years, over 27,000 miles, documenting much of his journey while showcasing the diversity of the Muslim world. The Muslim sailor Zheng He completed massive journeys on behalf of the Ming dynasty of China, likely going around the horn of Africa before any European.

Reflecting on all these amazing contributions to science, I was hit by the fact that many of these physicians, inventors, astronomers, and engineers were not just scientists, but also Islamic scholars. It shows how a person of religion and one who utilizes a scientific mind can be one in the same.

During the Islamic Golden Age, the Muslims had a culture of innovation while Europe largely had a culture of stagnation. Aside from recognizing the contributions of Islam to science and technology, it is prudent to give credit to the Islamic community for helping to jumpstart Europe’s own scientific revolution. Something even bigger hit me; religion itself is not a barrier to scientific and technological progress. For Muslims it was what encouraged their own culture of advancement.

Rather than see religion and science as threatening to one another, we should recognize how G-d created this world for us to use its gifts to enhance our lives as the Muslims have. I have realized that our religious texts call upon us to seek knowledge, serve the earth, and show compassion for all.

Let us know if you would be interested in helping to develop faithbridges as an online journal for the interfaith youth movement! Also, stay tuned for my updates on life in Istanbul and more reflections on religion!

Some of you may know of the “Irvine 11,” or the 11 Muslim students at the University of California-Irvine who are being charged for disrupting a speech by Israeli Ambassador Michael Oren. Michael Oren was giving a talk at UC Irvine when interrupted about 11 times throughout the speech by students yelling various anti-Israel statements. A video of the event can be found here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WsdtafcbqrE

The event has caused considerable controversy in Southern California, with community groups standing up for the students and some seeking to make an example of the students. The student governments of several UC campuses have passed resolutions in favor of the students, as well as faculty at several University campuses voicing their support. The whole conversation seems to be centered on what is perceived to be an unjust attack on Muslim students because of who they are, and a whole debate on free speech issues.

Faithbridges recently heard that the students, if charged, could face up to six months to one year in prison. Now, one must understand an issue like this from several different angles.

Faithbridges was first made aware of the issue last year, and watching the video of the students caused me to have quite a bit of anger towards their actions, and gave me myself a desire to create a harsh retribution for them. However, I now feel my mind is more clear and have a better understanding of the situation.

In short, I must say that these disruptions of the speech were very much uncalled for, and in no way can I call this “free speech.” Seeing the students shout “Whose University, Our University!” did not make much sense to me. Sure, they pay tuition and all that but the University does not belong to them, that room was not theirs and they had no right to interrupt the speech. You can make excuses and rationalize the actions all you want, saying how Israel has committed war crimes and all this (which is an opinion and a whole separate discussion), but to me there is no excuse. Drowning out someone else’s freedom of speech because you don’t like them or disagree with them is just not right, period.

Now, while I in no way can defend what the students did, I would expect that an action such as this would be addressed by the University in some sort of disciplinary hearing, the students get some slap on the wrist and the affair is over. However, this is not what happened. Instead the students were arrested, and now they could be facing charges for up to one year in prison. To me, this is completely unjust. It seems rather that this whole squabble has degenerated into making some sort of example out of these students, and there really seems to be a push to punish them as much as possible. Whether this is because they are Muslim, relates to the history of tense Muslim-Jewish relations at the Irvine campus, or the University felt embarrassed by what happened and seeks to make an example of these students, this has gone far enough. I cannot support the direction this affair has gone in, and really hope that these students do not get their educational careers ruined because of this.

In summary, all I ask for is a return to sanity. No, disrupting a meeting is clearly not free speech, but the way it seems certain elements in the community just want to punish these students and gain some sort of revenge is completely wrong. This whole fiasco should have ended one year ago, but for whatever reasons it has dragged on long enough. At this point, I just hope that we can recognize the racist, vengeful and anti-Muslim undertones of this event, and not allow this to ruin these student’s lives. Does this mean the students should face no consequences for their actions? No. We as a society need to recognize that what the students did was not right, but neither is this trial and the way these students are being treated. It is my hope that this ends soon and that interfaith relations can improve at the UC Irvine campus.

Overlooking the San Francisco Bay, high in the East San Jose Hills, sits a Zoroastrian Fire Temple (also called Darbe Mehr, or House of Divine Light), a testimony to the living practice of one of the oldest of the world’s revealed religions (we Jews say we’re older, Zoroastrians say they are). I had the pleasure of being a guest at their Norvoz New Year celebration as part of my internship at the United Religions Initiative, and got to witness a service in the ancient Iranian language known as Avestan. I got to eat delicious Indian food and learn about a community, many of whom have recently moved to the United States from India that has managed to preserve such an ancient tradition for thousands of years despite many challenges.

Before talking about my own thoughts, one should have a brief understanding of this little known or little-understood tradition, and the community known as the Parsis who have been the primary practitioners of Zoroastrianism for the past 1,000 years.

*While the origins of the Zoroastrian tradition are lost in antiquity, it has had a major influence on three Persian empires and on the major religions of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam (for example, both Muslims and Parsis say Mubarak after a holiday such as Ramadan or Norvoz). Zarathustra, or Zoroaster (to the Greeks) was born around the Aral sea near Northeast Afghanistan around 1,800-1,100 B.C. Zarathustra received his revelation around the age of 30, a revelation that there is one, uncreated g-d called Ahura Mazda, or the Wise Lord. For a thousand years, it was the dominant religion of three Persian empires: the Achameamenids, the Parthians, and the Sassanians. (On a side note, it was the Persian King Cyrus the Great who liberated the Jews from Babylonian captivity and allowed us to build the second temple, giving the Persians and Cyrus the Great an honored place in Jewish history).

With the defeat of the Sassanian Empire at the hands of the Muslims in 641 AD, the Persian lands fell under the control of the Islamic caliphates. Over time, most of the Zoroastrian population embraced Islam.

The Parsis, or the Zoroastrian community of India fled Persia in the 10th century because of Muslim persecution. They left from the port of Hormuz and settled in the state of Gujarat, India. There is a legend about their arrival to Gujarat, where the raja, or prince, sent a glass full of milk to the community signifying that his kingdom had everything it needed. The Parsis sent the glass of milk back, but filled with sugar symbolizing the fact that they would practice their faith quietly, stay relatively invisible and contribute positively to his kingdom. Ever since, the Parsis have been a welcome community in India, peacefully practicing their religion, being very active in philanthropy and making up much of the professional class in India.

The prophet Zarathustra taught a message of personal responsibility and veneration of the g-d Ahura Mazda. The key precepts of the faith consist of good thoughts, good words, good deeds, to live an industrious life and to contribute to society. Zoroastrians believe in an eternal struggle between the forces of Good (Spenta Mainyu) and Evil (Angra Mainyu). It also preaches harmony with nature and veneration of the elements; especially fire which is seen as a representation of the divine light in this world (an eternal fire burns in every temple, some fires for thousands of years). Zoroastrianism shares much in common with the Abrahamic faiths, including the concept of heaven and hell, the triumph of good over evil, an initiation ceremony (Navajote), a Messiah, and sacred texts called the Avestas.

There are many remarkable similarities with my own religion of Judaism. Besides the monotheism of both of our faiths, each has suffered religious persecution and exile. We have both been small communities trying to preserve our identity in an ever-changing world, and often have been part of the middle and upper classes of the societies we live in. Both our religions respect other religious traditions, do not proselytize, and do not believe other people need to become part of our community in order to achieve salvation. Zoroastrians also use priests for their rituals who come from priestly families, which Jews used to do when we had the temple (Jewish priests, or Kohanim still have some privileges in Jewish services such as getting the first Torah blessing, or Aliyah).

Learning about the history of persecution and exile of Zoroastrians reminded me of the importance of doing interfaith work and bringing to light the narratives of these religious communities, and it is my hope that through this work their histories can be heard and bridges of understanding can be built.

Meeting the young Parsis reminded me of the many challenges young Jews face today, and anyone who is trying to hold onto their religious identity. With only 200,000 Zoroastrians worldwide, it is becoming increasingly hard to preserve the tradition, with controversies in the community regarding potential converts, inter-marriage and assimilation; issues we Jews are facing today. Despite these challenges, there is a growing interest among Persians and other Iranian peoples in their Zoroastrian heritage.

There was much for me to learn from this community, as there is from any. Seeing how they have managed to preserve who they are has reminded me of how precious anyone’s religious and cultural heritage is, and the importance of maintaining one’s identity. As the community continues to grow and adapt to the 21st century, all I have to say is: props. You have made it for thousands of years, a feat that few communities and peoples have been able to accomplish. With that, I am excited for the Zoroastrian community to be able to share their story with the world and contribute a unique flavor to the interfaith movement.

*Zoroastrian Federations of North America pamphlet used as major source for information.

This blog post was originally written by me and posted on the United Religions Initiative website, which can be found here: http://www.uri.org/the_latest/2011/08/uri_intern_aaron_lerner_reflects_on_ramadan_from_a_jewish_perspective

It has been awhile since I have written on this blog, but I felt it would be worth re-activating it to reflect on some of my recent experiences, particularly fasting on the Jewish holiday of Tisha B’Av during the Muslim holy month of Ramadan.

Tisha B’Av, or the 9th of Av, is when we Jews commemorate the day both of our temples were destroyed (they were destroyed hundreds of years apart from each other, but took place on the same day on the Hebrew calendar.) This day is part of 9 days where Jews are not allowed to eat meat, shave, or partake in anything celebratory such as weddings. On the last of the 9 days, we fast from sundown to sundown, or a whole 24 hours with no food or water. There are some similarities to the month of Ramadan, but the key difference is that Muslims fast from dawn until dusk (so 12 hours), and every day for a month. Ramadan is not really a time for mourning in the same sense of Tisha B’av, but more of a time of reflection and self-discipline. As I understand it, the purpose of Ramadan is to celebrate the revelations of the Qur’an to the Prophet Muhammad (pbuh), to feel solidarity with those who are hungry around the world, and to achieve a level of self discipline.

I fasted Tisha B’Av this year not because I have any particular sadness about an event that took place thousands of years ago, but because I am trying to be a better Jew and become closer to G-d. I definitely felt that something was missing from my experience, yet I could not identify it until now.

On the last night of Tisha B’av, we Jews read the Book of Lamentations, or a poetic book from the Hebrew Bible describing the destruction of the Holy Temple at the hands of the Babylonians (6th century BC), composed by the prophet Jeremiah. I found it to be some of the most beautiful, yet saddest poetry I have ever read. It talked about how Zion (Jerusalem) was like a solitary widow with no one to care for her, abandoned by her g-d, how g-d was punishing Israel, with powerful metaphors describing the feelings of the Israelites at the time.

Now, how does this all relate to Ramadan and Muslims? Well, it does so in a sort of awkward sense. As some of you may know, one of the holiest sites in Islam is the Dome of the Rock, built right over the temple mount, the same site where Muslims believe Muhammad rose to heaven on his night journey. Control of the temple mount is today one of the most controversial aspects of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

The question is, how do we deal with a place so important for two communities in conflict? Should we wait for the messiah to come and re-build the temple, or Jesus to return with the Mahdi and establish justice all over the world after slaying the dajjal (false messiah)? (The former is what Jews believe, latter is Islam).

Both communities have great yearnings for their end of days. For me it is irrelevant, because both the scenarios are so similar, with both believing that peace and justice will be established all over the world.

Now, back to the Book of Lamentations. It made me sad to read it and reflect, but back then I did not know why I was sad. Now I do. It is because the supposedly holy city of Jerusalem to me has become unholy; marked by the putrid stench of religious conflict with no clear end in sight.

I do not have an answer, but I know this: Israel is not going to just give up its capital or control of the old city, and East Jerusalem is home to 500,000 Palestinians who have roots to the city just as deep as Jerusalem’s Jewish residents. Both communities must acknowledge that each has deep ties to the city, and inshallah (g-d willing) they will find some way to share it. I am doing my part by doing everything I can to promote interfaith cooperation, and am not willing to wait for the Messiah or the Mahdi+Jesus to come and figure it out.

The Book of Lamentations is not just filled with despair, but also with hope that the people of Israel will return to Zion and recover from their misfortune. I too was filled with sadness, but also hope.
I know that most Palestinians and Israelis do not want this ridiculous conflict to last forever. I hope it will not take until the end of days for this to happen, but g-d willing in my lifetime, Jerusalem will be holy for me and there will be peace.

The essayist and noted defender of Christianity Jonathan Swift wrote: “We have just enough religion to make us hate, but not enough to make us love one another.” We just need more of the kind of religion that will make us love one another.

*In the Jewish tradition, we are not allowed to write out g-d’s name (which is why I left out the “o”) unless it is meant for holy purposes, such as writing a Torah. It relates to the commandment to not write out g-d’s name in vain, and if written out, it can only be disposed of in ways appropriated by halacha, or Jewish law. Stay tuned for more posts from faithbridges!

As Mubarak has just been ousted, one can just look and reflect on the role of young people in this changing world. A movement without one clear leader, fueled by popular demand to oust a dictator, one can see how this movement brought people from all backgrounds together to oust a dictator in a popular uprising. This will ripple across the Arab world, and inshallah mark a new era of democracy in the Middle East.

Seeing this movement makes me reflect more upon the nature of the interfaith movement back home in general. You saw pictures of Christians protecting Muslims during their prayers in Egypt, and Muslims and Christians working together to oust Mubarak. Besides these beautiful images that we have seen, I would like to make some brief comments about the Egyptian democratization movement in comparison to the interfaith youth movement.

For me, the beauty of any movement is when people are united around a common goal, and work together to achieve it. Whether or not the goal is achieved, the beauty is that so many were united, together, working together out of their own bubbles of separation. The first part of this movement that I really liked was how there was no central leader; it was just students and young adults in loose coalitions for change. This is similar to our own movement, how we are just groups of students forming interfaith councils, working on our various Better Together Campaigns. Yet, one thing I notice is that Bridges is very top down; I would like it to be more bottom up, like the Egypt protest movement.

One major strength of our movement is that we are constant; we have no enemy uniting us, we are just united by a mutual love of each other and desire to improve the world through interfaith cooperation. We may not have the excitement of protest movements, but our strength lies in how long our feelings of unity will last. We have small service projects and discussions, but continuously grow, which is our strength. I will elaborate more on this later. Besides that, I would like to end how amazing these past few weeks have been, with new discussion, new stakeholders in Bridges, and a new grand plan to upgrade interfaith cooperation at the UW for the rest of the year.

I just got back from an amazing lecture by University of Chicago’s Michael Sells titled, “Holocaust, Armageddon, and the Clash of Civilizations.” Among the many amazing points that he made, the one that hit me most is the idea that religious violence is at it’s heart caused by arrogance. This arrogance is when one person believes that he or she completely knows and understands the true meaning of his/her scripture (whether it be the Tanakh, New Testament, or Qur’an) and that from this he or she can decipher God’s will, and ultimately who will be saved or scorned on the Day of Judgment. Obviously, he is taking from a Judeo-Christian-Islamic context in which the Day of Judgment is a very real future event with incredibly important consequences. While Professor Sells rightly does not intend to judge any person, it appears he has accurately described the extremists’ point of view.

Humility is a necessity with regard to scripture. Not only is there an immense amount of diversity of interpretations from any given scripture, but the meaning derived from scripture is one that is deeply felt and can be passionately fought for. It is not the same as reading novel or a poem, which have the value of art, and they do contain much value emotionally, culturally, etc. Yet scripture is by definition believed to be God-given and possessing access to God, Truth and wisdom, and should be read with that understanding… both in the sense that the content is deep and meaningful, but also that God has not revealed everything to us, nor has what God has revealed been obviously clear. In this way, we should approach scripture incredibly carefully, whether it be our own or another. A critical eye is necessary–one must read with intention, yet humility is the key. I believe that at it’s core, religion, like life, is all about learning. Learning about God, learning about the world, learning about our peers, and learning about ourselves. We should accept ourselves as humble individuals who are all in the process of learning, for our whole lives.

-Kate Bridges-Lyman, Director of Education

For me, I am often asked Why I do Interfaith. Well, there are many reasons. For me, it is the cause of the century. In a world of increasing religious division, the call for interfaith cooperation and inter-religious dialogue is even greater. Besides for the presence of Islamophobia, Religious Extremism and other forms of intolerance throughout the world, for me, the time for interfaith cooperation at the UW is now.

Yes, the UW is very pluralistic, an open faith where people from many backgrounds can feel comfortable being who they are. This is in the context of a country, that, while being increasingly divided, I find America to be one of the most tolerant, pluralistic places in the world, with an amazing amount of religious diversity. For me, not only is doing interfaith work about building bridges and doing service projects, it is about improving Seattle even more and preserving the pluralism that exists here already, which, in my view is just as important as creating Pluralism where there is none.

Theodore Roosevelt had a great quote: “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.” For me, this means that I must promote religious pluralism where I am, which is Seattle, Washington. Not only does it preserve the beauty of Seattle, but it also creates strong networks between those who seek pluralism and in order to really improve Seattle through interfaith social justice initiatives, which is what the Better Together Campaign to help homeless youth is all about. There is a lot that can be done here, so I invite you to join me in this new campaign.