by Rebekah Simon-Peter | Dec 7, 2015
We live in a new (ab)normal with mass shootings almost every day of the week. As of this writing, there was shooting in London today, a few days ago San Bernardino, before that Paris, Planned Parenthood, and Minneapolis. And that’s just the big headlines from the last 10 days. There will probably be more by the time you get this.
What’s a church, or synagogue or mosque to do? As Jonathan Merritt points out, prayer alone isn’t enough. Even the New York Daily News is clear on this: “God Isn’t Fixing This.” I’d like to suggest 4 things every Christian, Jewish and Muslim religious leader can do. And 1 thing none of us should do.
Call us to care. With so much violence in the world, it’s easy to go numb. How many times can we memorize the names of those who died, grieve the lives they left behind, or send money to help re-build shattered communities? After 9/11—with Oklahoma City, Columbine and Waco already behind us—many of us already hit compassion fatigue. Then came Hurricane Katrina followed by an ever increasing number of natural disasters. Here’s the danger of succumbing to numb: not caring dims our humanity, disconnects us from our neighbors, deadens us to our own vulnerability, denies hard realities of the world, and diminishes our sense of personal agency.
Pastors, priests, imams, rabbis, ministers, and congregational leaders, please: call us to care. Last week I attended a deeply touching, beautifully executed, interfaith prayer service for peace that was surprisingly sophisticated for my Wyoming city. Hosted in a Roman Catholic church, it included men, women, gay, straight, Christian, Muslim, and Jewish—with just about every hue of humanity represented. No one wanted to leave when it was over.
Call us to stay calm. In the wake of tragedy, there’s a lot of pressure to have an immediate response, which often leads to unwise pronouncements and unjust actions. Religious leaders tasked with helping make sense of the world around us should proceed with caution. A few days after 9/11, Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell Sr. prognosticated to the world that pagans, abortionists, feminists, gays, and lesbians “helped this to happen.” Pastor John Hagee linked Hurricane Katrina to a gay pride event. No mention was even made of missing or defective levees, let alone climate change. Similarly, in a recent speech, Falwell Jr. reactively encouraged students at Christian Liberty University to be armed and “end those Muslims.” No mention was made of love, forgiveness, and healing of Christ. Make no mistake, comments like these only serve to inspire reactionary violence against innocent people.
I remember how tough it was to speak intelligibly on the Sunday after 9/11. My advice to you? When it doubt, adopt a pastoral approach. Remind us that God is with us, that we have seen tough times before, that we can rely on God for guidance. Then design ways for us to do that. In the congregation I led, we embarked on a study of just war as a way of engaging our minds and hearts. “We don’t really know why this happened” or “We’re discerning an appropriate response” or “I’m not sure I know what to think,” are also perfectly reasonable things to say early on.
Call us to action. To avoid succumbing to numb, we have to do something. Other than round up or kill people we are afraid of, that is. Our respective faiths give us plenty to work with. This is the time to practice the best tenets of our faith, not react in fear. Now is the time to love our neighbors, work for peace, intercede in prayer, practice compassion, welcome the stranger, house vulnerable refugees, protect the innocent, nurture the hurting, and yes, love our enemies. Above all, this is the time to imitate a loving, compassionate, beneficent and just God. The more we do these things, the safer and more connected we will be.
Call out the Lies. ISIS, the KKK, and other religious extremist groups rely on twisting sacred scriptures, tradition, interpretation and facts to make their cases. It’s up to us who know better to correct the lies. Muslim scholars and leaders have been doing just this. Christian and Jewish leaders too need to call out their peers who justify targeting Muslims, blaming refugees, and shutting borders—based on the Bible. Otherwise, we become mirror images of the hateful, xenophobic violence we say we stand against.
Finally, here’s one “please don’t do.”
Please don’t pretend soul-shaking acts of violence aren’t happening. People watch the news. They listen to the radio. They scan Facebook and Twitter feeds. They know what’s happening in the world. Even if it means changing your service last minute, at the very least lift up these events in prayer. To stay silent is to be rendered irrelevant. That’s a new kind of (ab)normal we should we resist at every turn.
by Rebekah Simon-Peter | Nov 9, 2012
Recently the longstanding Christian-Jewish Roundtable sinned. As in missed the mark. Big time.
Christian leaders from the group–including representatives of the National Council of Churches, the United Methodist Church, the Lutheran Church and the Presbyterian Church (USA)–sent a letter to Congress on grounds of “moral responsibility” asking that US aid to Israel be reevaluted in light of the Jewish state’s alleged human rights violations against Palestinians.
The missed mark? Here’s one of them. The letter was sent shortly before the whole group was to meet for a regularly scheduled meeting. Jewish dialogue partners include leaders of Reform and Conservative Judaism, the American Jewish Committee, and the Anti Defamation League.
How moral is it to ambush your dialogue partners with a request that is sure to bring up a complex of emotions and responses?
Why didn’t they wait and speak to their partners in interfaith dialogue? It certainly would have been messy. It might have been indelicate. Perhaps there would have been hurt feelngs. Or big disagreement.
But all of that is happening anyway. Without the benefit of having spoken together. And now it may be hard to get the parties back to the Roundtable to talk. This very Roundtable by the way was established in part to help diffuse differing opinions over US aid to Israel.
Interfaith dialogue between Jews and Christians has come a very long way. Much has been accomplished. But this is a sign that there is still more work to be done.
When does interfaith dialogue not work? When it’s not practiced.
by Rebekah Simon-Peter | Nov 1, 2010
“I didn’t think it would really be possible,” one tree-planter commented, incredulous and smiling. “I really didn’t.” Rain dripped down his rain jacket hood and on to his face. But even the constant rain didn’t dampen his spirit or cloud his sunny attitude.
I knew just how he felt. For a group of us–most of whom didn’t even know each other–had just pulled off the seemingly impossible. In just over 2 months 7 of us had organized, funded and implemented the planting of the first ever interfaith Peace Forest in Denver. Over 100 people–Jews, Christians, Muslims and our friends–showed up to plant over 100 trees.
We hadn’t planned on rain, mind you. In fact, there had been no appreciable moisture in Denver for months. Nor was rain forecast for the day.
But 10.10.10 dawned cloudy. As the day wore on cloudy became overcast. Overcast gave way to drizzle. And drizzle flowed into solid rain.
Eighty people had pre-registered to join us in tree planting. Would they all show? We wondered.
Not only did they show, but 20 others came along as well! It was a lovely mix of Tongans, Kenyans, Somalis, African-Americans, first generation Americans from Pakistan and Afghanistan, and white folks. There were children and adults, rabbis and pastors, Tongans in traditional dress, Muslim women with head coverings and Jewish men with yarmulkes. It was quite the cultural experience.
As one friend put it, “We had Jews, Christians, Muslims and one Republican.” Needless to say, he was the one Republican. And even he felt strangely at home.
As volunteers arrived, we checked them in out of the back of a Suburban, with the tailgate down and the window flipped up. As they signed in, people put on a name tag, with an accompanying sticker to denote their religious affiliation, if any. And then promptly found others with the same symbol. Little circles of comfort formed as people waited in the rain for the opening blessings.
“C’mon folks!” I prodded good naturedly, “the whole point of the sticker was to meet someone from a different faith tradition!” I could hear little waves of self-conscious laughter. Even so, not many moved. But by the time we began planting, little interfaith groups had formed to plant the trees.
But not before Rabbi Stephen Booth-Nadav sounded a shofar to begin our momentous occasion. And not before Rev. Peg Newell retold the story of the fig tree that Jesus wanted to curse because it wasn’t producing. “Just give it one more year,” a servant begged. In the same way that we say about peace, “Let’s give it one more year and see if it produces.” And not before Atonio Tolutau prayed in Tongan. And not before Carema Cook said, “It’s appropriate the the Muslim prayer comes last. For in Islam we draw upon all the wisdom that has come before us.”
And people stood in the rain and listened and prayed, and smiled. .
And then we put shovels into the ground, mixed in soil conditioner, and carefully planted trees–living symbols of our ability to restore creation.
Most of the trees came in 5 gallon buckets, so it wasn’t too hard. But the trust test of interfaith cooperation came when it was time to plant (3) 700-pound trees that Fatuma got donated for us. One Jew and one Republican worked a two person auger to dig the holes. Then about 7 people rolled the trees down the hill and into place by the Sand Creek.
As Fatuma helped shovel and then spread mulch around the very large trees, her white head covering accentuating her joyful eyes and bright smile, the Republican said, “This is what I feel best about,” pointing to Fatuma. “You just don’t see this face of Islam that often.” “THIS is America,” I said as he shook his head disbelieving, “This is my America.”
It was an iconic moment.
Yes, we planted trees. Yes, we helped restore the old Stapleton Airport area. Yes, we created habitat. Yes, we helped to right ecological imbalances on the planet. But we did something even greater than that.
We gave people the opportunity to do something they crave: something unreasonably positive. And unreasonably good.
Perhaps the coolest part is that our Peace Forest Project Team doesn’t want to stop meeting. So Monir, Saba, Fatuma, Jeanette, Betsy, Rae Jean, Ria, Heather, Carissa, Betty and myself are now planning quarterly interfaith dinner and discussion evenings. And our next planting projects.
It turns out that what we planted was trees. And what grew was community.
by Rebekah Simon-Peter | Aug 27, 2010
There I sat at a conference table with Betsy, Saba, Fatuma, Monir, and Jeanette. We were not your typical tree-hugger types. Three of us are Muslim, one is a cradle, Christian, one is a former Evangelical Christian with New Thought leanings, and me, well I’m a United Methodist clergywoman who was born and raised Jewish. (More on that in another blog!) Two of us wore head coverings, and half of us had reached the half-century mark. Yet, there we were, working out our manifesto for the Peace Forest.
The Peace Forest, an initiative of BridgeWorks, is what I think of as a Mother Earth Mission project. Let me explain.
Often, United Methodists, and other mainline Christians, think of mission work as assisting those in need–whether the needs be material, financial, emotional or even spiritual. We excel at mission work in the wake of natural disasters. For instance, we were on the scene in a jiffy after Hurricane Katrina, the Haiti earthquake, and myriad other storms.
But it’s becoming clearer that it’s not just people who need to be rescued and restored from natural disasters. It’s the earth itself.
As I wrote about in a recent issue of Circuit Rider, ecological imbalances lie at the heart of many natural and unnatural disasters.
Our Peace Forest will address one of them–deforestation–while building bonds of community between different religious people.
This project brings together people from the three Abrahamic Faiths (Judaism, Christianity, and Islam) to plant a living symbol of earth care. One that can make a profound difference for the planet.
But, as Jeanette pointed out, it’s hard enough to unite people around caring for the earth. Let alone embarking on real interfaith work. Perhaps some will be attracted to the environmental aspect of our work and not care a hoot about religion. While others will be deeply committed to interfaith work and not be moved by environmental concerns at all.
Can we work together? Can we find others who will want to work with us?
I feel confident that we will. I’m very jazzed about this idea!
A few years ago, I read A Common Word Between Us. Written by Muslims Christians and Jews it highlights the sacred “words” we share in common such as love of God and love of neighbor.
Reading it, I realized we not only have a common word between us, we share a common world! If we, who can agree on the love of God and love of neighbor, can also discover the common words of creation care in our sacred texts, then we can bring about a positive revolution for each person on the planet.
That’s what the Peace Forest is about: nothing more, nothing less! And it all starts with trees.
