Dr. Arik Greenberg Answers A Question Asked Through Matt Present Of The Chicago Sun-Times

Dr. Greenberg was recently quoted by Chicago Sun-Times journalist Amos Ornstein in his regular column.  Dr. Greenberg weighed in on the issue of overt displays of religiosity in the workplace and in public, when it is okay and when it is too much.  Enjoy the article here:  http://www.chicagogrid.com/careers/etiquette/avoid-office-grinch/  
Since the author only quoted a short excerpt from Dr. Greenberg's full answer, we've decided to post Dr. Greenberg's full and unedited response to the original question right here on our blog. Enjoy!

 

 

Original Question from Chicago Sun-Times reader:

In my office, we have a Christmas tree where we put gifts for underprivileged kids. Then there's a Menorah and one of the Kwanzaa candelabras. This all seems to be in the generalized holiday spirit, and I'm okay with it. But then there's a nativity scene in the lobby, complete with baby Jesus and all of the farm animals and the three wise men and a big old cross (which seems, from my limited understanding of the bible, to be a little anachronistic). That seems way over the line. I'm lapsed Catholic and it offends my sensibilities. I can only imagine how my Jewish and Muslim coworkers feel. Am I being a Grinch if I bring this up to HR? 

 

December 5, 2013

Dr. Greenberg's response via Matt Present, editor of the Chicago Grid, the business section of the Sun-Times:  

 

This is an excellent and ever pertinent question.  Tolerance and acceptance of other people’s beliefs is a wonderful thing; in fact I believe it is the key to our survival as a human race.  But people often forget that tolerance goes both ways.  In some circles, the pendulum has swung so far in the direction of tolerance toward the minority opinion, that often the mainstream folks feel abused or marginalized themselves—and they have begun to register their complaints vociferously, such as in answer to the perceived “war on Xmas”.  While it is important to make everyone feel welcome, we need to be aware that some folks are going to feel a bit left out no matter what, simply on account of their small numbers.  If we try to speak for them, we may do them a disservice.  And we tend to see the majority of complaints coming from folks that are part of the mainstream, but are fearful of accusations that they are being intolerant. 

 

Rather than causing someone to take down an elaborate and treasured holiday display, especially one that may have been in use or part of the office landscape for years, I would suggest continuing the sentiment that is at play within your office, to include as many other points of view as possible without artificially limiting one religion’s opportunity to express their mirth and merriment.  And maybe even go the extra mile to ask Jews, Muslims, and others how they feel about the lobby nativity scene.  Many of them will look upon these as generalized symbols of American religious experience, recognizing that most of our country’s founders were of some sort of Christian persuasion, and they may not take issue with them as if it were eclipsing their own religious freedoms.  In fact, it has even become a point of humor among many American Jews, that it is acceptable to celebrate both Hanukkah and Christmas; the more presents, the better!  But most of all, your office mates will likely feel happy that you have consulted them and asked for their input.  And if someone does have a problem with it, then let them be the ones who place a complaint with HR, letting their voices be heard, rather than presume to know what they feel.  If that happens, the situation can be addressed with sensitivity to all concerned. 

 

After all, tolerance is about showing people respect and giving them a voice and allowing them to express their religious beliefs in their own way.  So I highly encourage you to speak to HR—not to ask that the display be taken down, but to let HR know that you are open to displays from other religions, and that you would also be open to hearing the opinions of non-Christian occupants of the building.  Maybe one option would be to encourage office mates of non-Christian faiths to share their religious displays throughout the year, especially at times when no Christian holidays would overshadow theirs.  This way, their office mates will get a little bit of education about other religions and no one will feel eclipsed.  I applaud your desire to think critically and to show sensitivity. Just make sure it goes in all directions. 

 

N.B. And yes, the actual crucifix—as a visual symbol of Christianity— is a very late addition to the symbolism of Christianity, perhaps as late as the sixth century AD.  Partly because it was still in use as a form of capital punishment!  Early Christians employed other symbols, such as the still ubiquitous fish, as well as the anchor. 

Intolerance Today?

Yesterday, I had a discussion with a friend of ours and had the opportunity to tell her a little bit about our organization.  While she had no disagreement with our organization in principle, she was curious to know if there was still religious intolerance in the world.  At first, I thought that this was a somewhat naive question, but it dawned on me that in certain circles within the U.S., we are sheltered from the tremendous intolerance in the world, and even right here in the U.S.  By the end of the conversation, she was reminded of all the intolerance that certain religious communities (sometimes minorities and sometimes not) have to experience on a daily basis. 

Among some of the first major instances of religious intolerance that I can remember in recent years was the Taliban government’s destruction of the Buddhas of Bamiyan in Afghanistan. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Buddhas_of_Bamiyan These centuries old monuments to the pre-Islamic presence of Buddhism within Afghanistan were deemed to be “idols” by the Taliban government and were demolished despite widespread worldwide condemnation of the action.  This was seen as an example of the intolerance of the Taliban regime. 

There has been a variety of incidents in the newly liberated Egypt in which Muslim fundamentalists have committed senseless acts of violence against the Coptic Christian minorities that have lived in Egypt since the earliest times of Christianity, since before the prevalence and proliferation of Islam. 

Lest one think that intolerance is the franchise only of Muslims, I must remind the reader of the recent destruction of Korans by U.S. forces in Afghanistan (whether deliberate or careless) and the subsequent murders of 17 innocent civilians committed by Staff Sgt. Robert Bates.  Allow me to remind the reader also of the many incidents in which civilian contractors, such as those employed by Blackwater, have gone unpunished for the random massacres of Muslims in Iraq and Afghanistan.  The rampant torture and murder of Iraqi and Afghani people by U.S. forces over the last decade of warfare in both countries has unfortunately become programmatic and emblematic of our presence there, despite widespread efforts by the U.S. military hierarchy to curtail this lawless and religiously unjustified violence.  It may appear to some as if the benefits of allowing soldiers to express themselves in violent ways outweigh the flak generated by the incidents—at least in the eyes of the “powers that be”. 

In China, a lack of religious freedom has become standard and programmatic for their nation since the Communist takeover in the early part of the twentieth century.  People are regularly jailed for seeking religious freedom.  An entire country—Tibet—has been conquered and denied its religious freedom, all for the sake of Communist ideology.  I had a student, hailing from North Korea, that had been jailed for many years in a Chinese Prison for seeking to investigate various religious ceremonies while on tour as a professional musician.  Her husband and son were subsequently jailed as well.  After many hard years, her freedom was won by Christian missionaries in South Korea who labored successfully to reunite her family in freedom.  They now reside here in the U.S., her having then become a student of mine. 

Lest one think that Christians have been innocent of the crime of intolerance, I remind the reader that it has become a general war cry in the U.S. to deny Islamic Americans the right to have a house of worship anywhere near 9/11 Ground Zero, as if no Muslims were killed in that disaster; as if that attack were foisted corporately upon the Christian world by the entire Muslim world.  This is tantamount to denying German and Polish Christians the right to have churches anywhere nearby the sites of former Nazi concentration camps, interpreting the Holocaust corporately as an act of Christian violence.  In addition, the intolerance embodied by Pastor Terry Jones, who has called for the burning of Korans, is by no means an isolated sentiment.  Many conservative and fundamentalist Christians today seem to have a very uninformed attitude toward Islam, their fellow Abrahamic faith, as if they did not worship the same God. 

Many Jews today, both inside and outside of Israel, seem to think that the Palestinians who for over six decades have fought for their right to exist in the nation of Israel, are interlopers, intruders, invaders, when in fact, there is strong genetic and anthropological evidence that the Palestinian people are genealogically and ethnically related to the Jews—that many of them are descendants of Jews who remained in the land of Palestine during the many expulsions and diasporas in which the majority of Jews migrated to Eastern and Southern Europe.  That is to say, the Muslim and Christian faith of many of these Palestinians is a recent change of identity of these long lost brethren—children of Jacob and Abraham. 

And needless to say, Jews themselves still suffer sometimes overt and sometimes subtle oppression and anti-Semitic behavior all around the world.  It was only a few years ago that one could see commonly posted backlash against the Jews as “Christ killers” right after the premier of the film, The Passion of the Christ”, whether intended by the filmmaker or not.  Churches in random places proudly presented their anti-Semitic sentiments on their billboards and marquees: “Jews killed the Lord Jesus”.  http://www.thedenverchannel.com/news/2873395/detail.html  As a secular Jew, my father used to remind me often that “you can forget you are a Jew for only so long in this world, until there is an anti-Semite there to remind you.”

So, is there a need for tolerance in our world?  Does an organization that promotes religious tolerance still have a place?  Or are we merely barking up a tree that has already been cut down or replanted?  Is it a vain argument or a moot point, such as the outcome of the Civil War?  Or do we have a job to do, mandated not only by a benevolent and tolerant God, but also by human decency?  You better believe we do.  I’m devoting my life to it.  Who’s with me?  Volunteer to help the Institute and other tolerance-oriented non-profits.  Stand up and be counted!

Visit to a Mosque - A Student's Perspective

Last semester, one of my students was kind enough to grant permission for me to share one of her reaction papers here.  It was on the occasion of her visit to a mosque in Orange County, California.  So without further ado, I will post the paper in its entirety, unedited, with many thanks to Erica C., the author.  I shall be posting other such papers in the near future.

Blessings,
Dr. Arik
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Erica C.

Theology 180

10/18/11

Experiencing Islam

            Throughout my entire experience and reflection after, I realized the vast amount of information that I was unaware of and how misperceived Islam truly is. I am very glad that I was able to attend this service and grow closer with my long time friend who I was fortunate enough to attend the service with. Very proudly, I can now say that I am enlightened and have cultured myself to another religion and am eager to continue to do so with other religions.

            My best friend is Muslim and was more than willing to invite me with her to attend a Friday prayer service held near UC Irvine. Since the service was held at around 1:00PM, we were only able to attend the service in between her classes. The service I attended is called the Jumu’ah which is a group prayer and a sermon. Due to the location, the service was mainly held for local students and the Islamic mosque was relatively small with one general area that lead into a large empty room designated for prayer. The room had no pictures or sculptures and the floor space was filled with prayer mats that were faced toward the front where there was a small podium all facing in the direction of Mecca, the Islamic holy land. Before Jumu’ah began, everyone had to cleanse themselves by washing their feet, hands, and neck. Taking their place on the mats, I noticed that men were lined up in the front and women were aligned behind them. The few children that attended were usually at their mother’s side or on the ends of the rows.  The service began with a muzim, the prayer leader, leading adhan, a call to prayer and statement of faith.  Then, individual prayers done and another adhan is recited before the Jumu’ah actually began. The khatib is the designated man who gives the sermon which was given in a mixture of Arabic and English to cater the variety of the people present.  After the sermon, the khatib says the dua, a connection to God, and then the khatib, acting as the iqama, continued to lead the group prayer consisting of two rakahs. Prior to the service, I asked my friend the specific names given for the prayers and the order, so I could follow along with the service and therefore have more insight while conducting my observation.

            After the service, I was able to meet Yasmine, who served as my guide and was in charge of maintenance for the mosque. She was able to provide more information about the purpose behind this particular service and why it was conducted in such manner. During the chaotic cleansing process, I wondered why it was necessary to wash right before prayer instead of at home. I learned that the cleansing process was very important because, like the introductory prayers which served to clean the mind, washing served to cleanse the body physically.  In Islam, worshipers address their deity through prayer and they believe that they connect with God. Therefore, they need to be clean in all aspects before inviting God into them. I now realize that the physically cleansing is just as important as mentally cleansing because of the tangible finality it provides. One of the first things I noticed was the lack of decorative wall fixtures or shrines. Jasmine explained that the plainness was done purposely because in Islam, God is not meant to be pictures and they do not want to seem as if they are worshiping a portrayed image.  

Curiosity also led me to question the purpose of the prayers before the Jumu’ah and Jasmine explained that it was to center everyone’s minds and reclaim themselves for God before beginning the Jumu’ah. This was very comparable to the reciting the Mystery of Faith that I practice as a catholic which serves the same exact same purpose—reclaiming oneself for God.             During the service, I noticed that the khatib said the sermon at the podium, but to lead the prayers he joined the people. The khatib serves as a sort of interpreter of God’s word, but is not to be put at a higher level and therefore he prays on the ground next to the fellow worshipers. I found this to be very assuring because it creates a visual sense of unity in prayer that is not as clearly found in my catholic religion. The arrangement of men in the front and women behind them struck me as odd because it seemed to establish hierarchy with men above women. However, I quickly learned that this arrangement was not meant to show power, but to show respect to the women. Since the prayers involved a series of kneeling and standing, women were placed behind men, so men would not be disrespectful by staring at the women and women were not put in a position of disrespecting their bodies.  Due to this arrangement, the space was more longitude based and had a vertical gradation of the people. Reinforcing the sense of unity, this gradation was not meant in any way to show power and there is no “front” meaning that every single person is praying equally and being at the “front” does not make your prayer stronger or more meaningful than a person’s prayer in the “back”.

            Thanks to in-class discussions and my friendship, I always had a sense of what was visually done in a prayer service, but it was not until now that I learned the associated meaning. I had many presumptions and questions about the gender hierarch that seemed to be shown because initially I thought the row organization was to show that men were closer to God.  From these assumptions, I was influenced to believe that only women are made to show modesty and I assumed this meant that only women needed purification and restrictions. However, I was blatantly wrong. Men show modesty through more internal control and through their respect of women and women demonstrate their modesty more visually through clothes and hijabs. The relationship between men and women was perhaps the greatest thing I have learned from this experience and I feel very ignorant not knowing beforehand.  

            Another main lesson that I took away from this experience was the strong similarity between my personal catholic faith and the Islamic faith that I was fortunate enough to experience. Again, due to my friendship, I always just assumed that Islam was an older faith because of the very traditional and conservative aspects that I had heard about or witnessed. However, in class and throughout the service, I realized many similarities between Islam and Christianity. The most obvious similarity was the sermon given by khatib and the homily given by the priest. The sermon’s purpose is to teach a lesson for that particular prayer service and from what I was told there is no set topic for each sermon. Since there was primarily youth worshipers, the khatib made the sermon very relatable by taking a story from his personal life and current events and putting it into a religious perspective.  The main difference is a homily usually relates the designated readings to everyday life and in the sermon the topic is more freely chosen, but the purpose of the two is to relate something back to a faith in God. The message that was said in the sermon was something that I could have easily heard about in a homily at mass. It is a shame that the media has led to a large misunderstanding of Islam when in reality it is very similar to widely accepted faiths.

            After the service was done, it was very mind stimulating to discuss with my friend the similarities that I saw and how there are the same basic intentions with our faith.  I am now enlightened to the fact that Islam is not what the media portrays it to be and want to share this insight with others.

A Class Visit to a Mosque—An Inaugural Program

As many of you know, I spend my daytimes teaching on the university level.  This semester, I have three sections of World Religions, a 100 level class, filled with mostly 18 to 20 year old undergraduate students.  As part of my pedagogy, I have mandated that the students visit a number of religious services, from a variety of faiths, and write a short reaction paper on their experiences.  I gave them the opportunity to attend whatever faiths they desired, but I strongly encouraged them to first visit a faith other than the one in which they were raised.  In order to help facilitate the experience for a few of the less adventurous or self-motivated students, I began to arrange a series of field trips which, although optional, would satisfy the field experience requirement that preceded the writing of their papers. I decided that the first of these field trips should be to an Islamic house of worship—a mosque—particularly because of the historic lack of understanding of Islam among the average westerner.  Even I, someone with a Ph.D. in Religious Studies and a fairly broad background in world religions, had little direct exposure to the faith and worship of Islam.  I had grown up with a number of Muslim friends.  And I never had cause to look at them differently than my other friends; I never felt as if they wished to kill or convert me—common stereotypes held by many Americans about Muslims. They were merely my friends, but from a slightly different culture than my own.  Many of them came from educated, professional families who had just emigrated to the U.S. in the late ‘70s and early ‘80s, some fleeing the misery of Afghanistan after the Soviet invasion, others from Iran after the deposing of the Shah, and others from Pakistan or other countries in the Middle East and South Asia.  But my lack of knowledge about Islam was an embarrassment to me, especially as a scholar of Religion, and as an enthusiast of Middle Eastern dance and music.  So I took the opportunity to make contact with the local Islamic community not only for my students and for my own edification, but also for the development of interfaith and educational outreach programs of our illustrious organization—the Institute for Religious Tolerance, Peace and Justice. 

In late September, my colleague, Professor Amir Hussain (a scholar of Islamic religion and a practicing Muslim himself), helped me to make contact with Ahmed H., a board member of the King Fahad Mosque in Culver City, California, as a potential contact who would help arrange a field trip for my students to visit his mosque.  Ahmed, a medical doctor by profession, and a recent immigrant from Egypt, met me outside the mosque on a Monday evening.  A tall, slender man with a light beard, he was having a brief conversation with fellow worshippers prior to the evening service when I walked up and introduced myself, finally putting a face to the voice that he had spoken to on the phone.  He and the other men were very hospitable to me.  Ahmed took me inside where I removed my shoes and joined him in an administrative office adjacent to the prayer hall, or musalla. 

We talked for about twenty minutes prior to the Ishaa—the final prayer of the evening, at around 8:15 PM.  I followed him into the prayer hall, where I sat on a folding chair in the rear of the laterally very wide room, just inconspicuous enough not to disturb the service.  The men gradually gathered in several tightly packed rows at the front of the hall, some coming in very late, but being welcomed by their brethren making room for them as they all stood shoulder to shoulder during the prayer. 

After the brief, perhaps fifteen minute prayer service, Ahmed came back to where I was sitting and led me back to the office in which we had talked earlier.  We spoke for about another 30 to 40 minutes about my desire to bring a large group of students there to the mosque so they could have a first hand experience of what Islamic worship was like, and to meet Muslim people face to face, hopefully dispelling many myths about them.  Ahmed was very eager to help my cause and mentioned that in the short time he had held his office (director of religious education and outreach) at the mosque, he felt that there should be much more of an effort toward interfaith dialogue and outreach activities such as the one I was proposing.  My presence there served both our causes.  It became apparent to me that we both were deeply committed to helping to educate the public about this frequently misunderstood religion, to helping bridge the gaps between faith communities for the greater good of society, and helping promote tolerance and collaboration.  I left with a fairly firm game plan to bring a group of students there in the next few weeks.  I also left with a warm, fuzzy feeling about the entire experience.  I felt as if I was on the verge of a beautiful new friendship with a community of honorable, Godly, faithful people who had been largely misunderstood and marginalized in this, their newfound land, primarily due to the misdeeds of a few rogue representatives.

After a few emails to finalize the logistics, Ahmed and I agreed to have an organized visit with about 30 of my students on Thursday, October 13^th, 2011.  I was very excited in anticipation of this event.  Some of my students were unable to attend that night, so they made separate arrangements with Ahmed to come separately on a night earlier that week.  As it turns out, a total of at least 15 to 20 of my students attended on different nights, every single night that week, so eager were they for the experience that they would be missing that Thursday.  And all in all, we had a roster of 53 people who signed up for the Thursday visit.  When I first told Ahmed that we would likely be exceeding the original number of 30 which we thought would be a comfortable and efficacious number of attendees, I could tell that it would complicate things a bit further, but Ahmed was eager not to leave anyone out who was willing to make the trip and visit with an open mind.  And rightly so.  One of my students even asked if she could bring her mother, an open minded woman who wanted to learn a bit more about this religion that was so foreign to her experience.  I told her that I would have to check with our hosts, but Ahmed immediately and unhesitatingly approved.  He did not want to miss an opportunity to educate and to prove that his was a peaceful and worthy faith. 

So on Thursday, October 13^th, I arrived at the mosque to find a large group of my students, male and female, waiting on the street out front, near what they erroneously perceived was the main entrance.  I gathered them and brought them to the main entrance, adjoining the parking lot in rear of the building.  I was so proud of them, open minded enough to attend; I felt as if they were my children or younger siblings as they followed me into what would be a very rewarding and edifying experience for every person in that mosque that night—even the usual worshippers, having had the chance to meet a host of university students who were now their instant allies. 

We were led into the building in two separate groups, through separate entrances—one each for males and females—to satisfy certain Islamic traditions about keeping men and women separate during prayer so as to avoid any distraction or impropriety.  This, of course, immediately raised some eyebrows among some of my students, many of whom were burgeoning feminists.  But they all were willing to cooperate for the good of the experience and they all soon had the opportunity to ask questions about these traditions that were so strange to them.  We all gathered again upstairs (men and women alike) in a classroom to initiate a brief orientation prior to witnessing the actual prayer service.  Of course, the issue of separation of men and women was at the top of their list of questions.  It was explained to us that traditionally, it is thought that men and women are inherently attracted to one another and that having them near each other during prayer could cause distraction during what is supposed to be time devoted entirely to God.  And having spent much of my time, when still single, looking at the women nearby me at various religious services I attended, I knew that this to be a valid concern. 

Ahmed and one other man, Habib, were our initial guides, orienting us to what we would soon witness and giving us some background for the journey.  Shortly after, 8:15 PM was near and we were asked to go to the respective places of prayer, the main ground floor prayer hall for men, and an upstairs balcony overlooking the main hall for the women.  As a man, I accompanied my male students downstairs and all sat either on the floor or on folding chairs in the right rear of the large room, opposite where I had witnessed my first Ishaa just a few weeks prior,.  These 15 to 20 young men with me were enthralled by what they saw and I was pleased at their good manners and behavior, truly befitting young ambassadors of their university.  I perceived that the prayer took about 20 minutes.  And when we returned upstairs, many of the worshippers noticed our presence and shook our hands, welcoming us warmly, grateful to have outsiders come and see that they were as normal and trustworthy as the rest of us. 

Upstairs in the classroom, the men and women rejoined one another.  We were also joined by an additional man, Omar, and at least four young women, all of the latter wearing a hijab, the traditional headscarf donned by many Islamic women.  Each of these women was more outspoken than the next, showing fierce passion and tremendous pride in their religion.  None of them were “shrinking violets,” as many westerners have misperceived Islamic women to be.  The stereotypes of the oppressed and cloistered Islamic woman were dashed on the rocks by their characters.  The men and women alike spoke about what touched and inspired them in their faith.  Many of them talked about their lives and why they felt called to be as observant as they are.  Some of the women had come from less observant backgrounds.  One of the women, though culturally Islamic, had not been brought up as religious and felt the need to proclaim her faith now that she was an adult and a college student.  All of them spoke about how “covering,” or wearing the hijab, makes them feel liberated as a woman—much to the surprise of many of my students—in that they are not judged by their sex appeal, but by their minds and for their faithfulness as a woman of God.  One of them said, rather bluntly, that she would rather be seen this way than be viewed as a “hot babe”. Her crude honesty was charmingly revealing and refreshing; her point was obvious to us all.  One other young woman said that she felt the hijab served her as a constant reminder of her faith; that even when oppressed or mistreated by people, she was always being scrutinized as a representative of her faith; that she must act in an exemplary manner, beyond reproach, an ambassador for her religion.  It surprised many of my students to hear that Islam reveres both Jesus and the Virgin Mary as important figures within the faith as a whole, even while bearing certain differences from the traditional Christian view of them.  And specifically, the modesty and morality that Mary is believed to embody is what these Muslim women claimed they are trying to emulate in their modest appearance.  Many of my students found this to be extremely refreshing and, with many of them coming from Catholic backgrounds, very much something that they could relate to.  It struck me as well as my students that every person standing before us, sharing information about their Islamic faith, was extremely passionate and observant.  None of them was secular in their practice of religion.  And a central theme in their presentations was that Islam urges them to be better people, to live the example set by Muhammad, and demanded by God.  This was highly inspiring to all of us, regardless of our particular faith. 

The final topic of the evening was the most controversial.  Ahmed and I spoke ahead of time about wanting the students to feel comfortable to ask about any topic.  He felt, as I do, that it is best to address the most difficult topics head-on.  At my encouragement, one of the students asked about the parallel topics of Islam’s views on violence and how it relates to terrorism.  In response, every one of the speakers reminded us that the Koran condemns senseless violence, paraphrasing Surah 5:32 in that for anyone who commits a murder, it is as if they had murdered all of humankind; conversely, for anyone who saves a life, it is as if they had saved all of humankind.  This is not merely an empty platitude for those who spoke to us; it is a very deeply held belief.  The common sentiment among them regarding terrorism was that none of them was a terrorist nor did any of them know any terrorists.  They stated that it is just as shocking to them as it is to the rest of us that anyone would conceivably do something as egregious as the acts of 9/11.  They asserted that it simply does not represent Islam, but only a small group of misguided people who are hijacking the message of Islam.  Habib said something very telling.  He reminded us that the issue of suicide bombings and terrorism in the name of Islam is something that the world has only seen in the last half century or so, certainly not something integral to Islamic belief and practice, and that it has more to do with the socio-economic conditions of certain countries than Islam itself.  He reminded us that any country with such desperate conditions will produce people of desperate actions.  Even the U.S. had its Timothy McVeigh.  We have to look at the conditions that these individuals come out of (either the 9/11 attackers, or any other extremist in the Middle East), viewing their violent tendencies as indicative of their upbringings, not of Islam.  He asserted that out of 1.3 billion Muslims in the world, there are very few who are violent; it is the prominence that the media gives them that makes it seem as if it were programmatic of all Islam. 

I left that night feeling much pride in my students for having asked such excellent questions and having been open-minded enough to come.  As I thanked Ahmed and his associates, both male and female, I was struck with such utter glee at having met these new friends.  Even though my culture is very different from theirs in many ways, since I come from a very secular Jewish and Christian background, steeped in several generations of residence in America, we are all searching for the same thing—religious freedom.  This is the same thing that our Pilgrim forefathers (to use such quaint terms) came here looking for.  This is the same thing that many of our ancestors emigrated here for.  And all of these new friends share my passion for religious tolerance and interfaith dialogue.  Perhaps they stand to benefit from it the most, as people who are highly scrutinized for their beliefs and more than occasionally oppressed.  But we all benefit from each other’s well-being.  If any one of us is unfree, then none of us is free. 

After I left, I thought about the various friends of mine, several of whom hailed from middle America, from conservative Christian backgrounds, who had erroneously stated that they believed all Muslims were trying to kill us (“us” being either Americans or Christians—I’m not sure what), sounding sad and dejected, but resigned to that fact.  I could not imagine of any of these, my newfound friends from King Fahad Mosque, desiring to kill me.  It was inconceivable.  The love that I felt exuding from each of them—for God and for the guests in their presence—was unlike any that I had felt in a long time at any other religious service.  It was unconditional, knowing that we are all children of the same God, regardless of how we express it.  There was no judgment among them.  They made no attempt to convert us or to strong arm us into coming back to worship with them.  They knew that we were primarily there to learn, and peacefully so.  They knew that by representing themselves well as Muslims, they would be better and more effective ambassadors for their faith than if they had attempted to cajole us into saying the shahadah—the central faith statement of Islam, the pronouncement of which is the decisive step toward conversion. 

For the next week and a half, I read the papers that students turned in, covering their first visits to a house of worship.  Nearly 75 of my students chose the mosque as their first field experience, and one attended a different mosque as her first assignment.  Every single paper that I received from any of the students who attended the mosque, either that night or one of the other nights on their own, bore the same experience and the same sentiments.  They all found the experience incredibly edifying and enlightening.  And I fully expected at least one—a statistical likelihood—to have expressed a rare negative experience, still unwilling to let go of prejudices and misperceptions; as they say, “there’s always one!”  But not a single one had anything to say but the utmost praise.  Each and every one seemed to repeat the same story: that they were shocked to see how kind and “normal” these people were; that they had initially entered the experience with some trepidation and uncertainty of what they would find, but were pleasantly surprised; that they all experienced one prejudice or misconception after another fall away and be shattered by the logical and open explanations given to them by their hosts.  I was tremendously proud, once again, of these students of mine.  I felt as if I had done my job well and contributed just a little bit to my life’s mission of promoting religious tolerance, interfaith dialogue, and collaboration.  These students, coming away from their visit with a newfound respect for an oft-misunderstood religion and culture, would now go out into the rest of the world, one by one, and preach about the kindness of their hosts, about their normalcy and their worthiness of being called friends.  One student very tellingly mentioned as we were leaving the mosque, that he was going to have to go home to his conservative (and evidently bigoted) roommate and explain the experience to him.  There was as much trepidation in his voice about carrying out this daunting task as had been felt by many of the students prior to coming to the mosque this evening, as expressed in their papers.  But just as the latter discovered that the experience was fruitful and enlightening, hopefully this one student’s experience with his roommate would be equally successful.  It has dawned on me in my short time on this planet that those who do not know each other often fear each other irrationally, but that once they meet face to face and find a few commonalities, they have all the makings of fast becoming friends.  It is this principle that I am counting upon and employing when I bring students to houses of worship such as this mosque.  I am attempting to change the hearts and minds of people one at a time.  Hopefully, they will each tell one or more people about their experience, helping to dissuade and disarm future bigotry and misconceptions. 

In the future, I will continue to bring my students to that mosque, having garnered a new friendship with that community.  It was an extremely successful trial run.  But this trial run with my students will serve as the inaugural experience to a long-term program.  I would like to institute a program by which our Institute arranges field trips attended by not just college students, but people from all walks of life, to this mosque and other houses of worship.  A sort of exchange program between different faiths is the key to garnering understanding and trust.  Our Institute’s wise and talented secretary had originally helped to inspire this idea, with a suggestion that focused on providing people a first hand experience of other faiths, and a set of educational guidelines about what one should know “before you go,” so as not to insult or injure one’s hosts.  I believe that this is an excellent way for us to begin work at our organization’s inceptive phases.  Even more important than reaching out to clergy and theologians, the general public is the most crucial audience that we must reach in our attempt to promote tolerance and dialogue.  Bringing goodwill ambassadors face to face with one another, sending delegations of representatives from one organization to another—from churches to mosques, temples to gurdwaras, synagogues to monasteries—is the best way to create lasting friendships. 

I hope that this is something that sounds like fun to you, because I cannot wait to do it again! 

Yours Truly,

L. Arik Greenberg, Ph.D.

President

Does Religious Tolerance Stand in the Way of Christ?

It has been said by some Evangelical and Fundamentalist Christians that religious tolerance stands in the way of Christ.  This attitude has all but prevented many Christians from engaging in interfaith dialogue with those of other faiths, for fear that they will appear to be endorsing the truth of these other religions, or at least endorsing their right to exist and to be considered equally valid methods of salvation and approach to the divine.  Seen from their point of view—from an exclusivist perspective in which Christ is the only way, and that any compromise of this standpoint is tantamount to denying Christ— they are correct.  However, whose conception of Christ are we speaking of?  How would Jesus Christ himself feel about this? 

To answer these questions is not as simple as most would believe.  It has been very easy for people throughout Christian history to claim that their conception of Christ, his teaching and his current will, are the only valid perspective and interpretation of the Christian message.  And those who misquote Jesus and twist his words to suit their own theological platforms are guilty no less a crime than what was done to the Christians by their Roman persecutors, an attempt to silence them. 

What is the proper understanding of Jesus’ apparent exclusive claims to truth?

Many Christians claim that Jesus’ intent was that Christianity should supersede all other religions and therefore nullify them.  In fact, there is little evidence that Jesus of Nazareth ever intended to create a new religion, but that he worked for an inner Jewish reform movement in which the contemporary Temple priesthood, which he considered corrupt, would be judged and rendered negligible (either directly by God or by an overwhelming movement to replace them), and the iniquities of the many contemporary sects of Judaism would be brought to light and changed—or proven to be wanting at the moment of the apocalypse.  Seen in this light, any statements made by him in the gospels, to the effect that his is the only way, should be seen as directed toward his opponents within Judaism and not seen as condemning all Judaism and all other religions.  The claims of Christians who believe that Jesus intended to found an entirely new religion that should supersede Judaism are unfounded.  Even in the Gospel of John, he states that he has other sheep not of this fold.  His statement therein that one comes to the Father only through him also needs to be seen in context: within the framework of a mystical sect of Christianity which sought reunification with the divine through the journey of the soul and envisioned the world through the lenses of a confluence of Hellenistic cosmologies, created by an emanation or personification (hypostasis) of the rational mind of God and accessible and understandable through the revelations of this semi-divine being. Other than that, Christianity becomes unintelligible, a mere watered down and popularized version of a highly complex devotional pathway to the divine.  To claim that Jesus meant that all religions of the world were to be replaced by his ‘new religion’ is patently to misunderstand Christianity. 

In addition, what Jesus highlights as the most important element of all Jewish belief, and therefore the key to his own mission is that one must love God above all else, and to love one’s neighbor as oneself.  The trappings of Trinitarianism, a fourth century AD doctrine conceived of initially as a compromise between warring theological factions; the insistence upon the subjugation and suppression of all other religions; the vilification and even demonization of the Jews, as a people, as if they were wholly responsible for the death of Jesus—all of these are concepts which spring from years of ecclesiastical development and not from Jesus himself.  To deny someone their right to worship God in the manner they see fit is exactly what Jesus was battling against in the form of the religious legalism of his opponents.

Christian supersessionism and domination

Throughout Christian history, there have been many attempts to supersede and suppress other religions, and even variant attitudes and sects of Christian belief.  Oftimes, these have been very bloody and merciless, as if to torture someone to death in order to exact a confession of faith were actually a valid and righteous method of spreading Christianity.  The theme of Christian supremacy has continued into modern times, through centuries of holy wars, colonization, forcible missionization and other protocols which do not truly jibe with the Christian fundamentals of peace, nonviolence, and compassion. 

In 1893, the Parliament of the World’s religions was convened in Chicago, a momentous attempt to reconcile between the religions of the world, many of whom hold competing theological and salvific claims.  But there was not universal support for this movement.  There were, of course, Christians who refrained from granting support for the very reasons given above.  On the Wikipedia article on the Parliament of the World’s Religions, the author quotes an early criticism of this momentous and far too seldom repeated conference. 

“As far back as 1925, G.K. Chesterton wrote in The Everlasting Man,

The Theosophists build a pantheon; but it is only a pantheon for pantheists. They call a Parliament of Religions as a reunion of all the peoples; but it is only a reunion of all the prigs. Yet exactly such a pantheon had been set up two thousand years before by the shores of the Mediterranean; and Christians were invited to set up the image of Jesus side by side with the image of Jupiter, of Mithras, of Osiris, of Atys, or of Ammon. It was the refusal of the Christians that was the turning-point of history. If the Christians had accepted, they and the whole world would have certainly, in a grotesque but exact metaphor, gone to pot. They would all have been boiled down to one lukewarm liquid in that great pot of cosmopolitan corruption in which all the other myths and mysteries were already melting.”

There is indeed much truth to Chesterton’s claim.  It was Christianity’s insistence upon rejecting other deities that gave it its tenacity and will to survive in the face of nearly overwhelming persecution.  But Christianity’s erstwhile acquiescence to Roman syncretism was not the only alternative open to it, as far as the current discussion goes.  The Emperor Constantine’s Edict of Toleration, issued in 312 AD, allowed the Roman people to practice religion as they saw fit, effectively decriminalizing Christianity, but certainly not declaring Christianity the official, or the only, religion for the Roman Empire.  Nor did it replace Christianity with Paganism as the proscribed and prohibited faith.  And this was a wise action on the part of the emperor.  But eventually, Christianity, still under the aggressive and oppressive personality of the cultural matrix from which it drew adherents, continued to suffer from a pernicious and bullying mentality.  Just because a person became a Christian, did not mean that they were any less of a Roman.  And with this came the same attitude that caused the Romans to persecute Christians in the first place; but now, Christianity was the hegemonic paradigm, rather than paganism.  And so the traditional deities and practices of Rome were either stomped out or absorbed by the growing syncretism of the Late Roman Christian Church (to wit, adoption of a date for Christmas significant to pagans; the adoption of the Virgin Mary as what may be considered a secondary deity).  But the insistence upon vanquishing and superseding all other religions as the sole religion of the world is not the source or Christianity’s success or survival.  Christianity’s key features of mercy and tolerance were all too often suppressed, causing it to become no better than the bullies that they had just vanquished. 

 How can Christianity be insistent upon its prominence or its success without weakening its message? 

The beauty of Christianity is that Christians may be required to preach the message of Christ, but they are not required to use physical and political or economic force to oppress and coerce people into accepting their own particular point of view.  Therefore there is no sin for a Christian to heartily explain his or her gospel to a non-believer and then give that person the right to continue to practice their faith as they see fit without fear of repercussions or retaliation.  A Christian’s soul is safe from condemnation even if they congregate with non-believers, conducting themselves peacefully within the same society, allowing these others the same freedoms that are afforded them as Christians.  There is no sin in going about one’s business after preaching the gospel and letting the other’s own conscience direct them to the anticipated rewards of conversion or to allow them to make their own choice to face judgment.  As long as the gospel is preached, the Christian is not directly responsible for the salvation or damnation of those to whom he or she has preached. 

Therefore, it may be of good use to the conversation of religious tolerance for all Christians to come to the table, even if they do not believe in a pluralistic model of the value of religions.  Even if they continue to believe that their particular sect, denomination or conception of Christianity is the only valid form of Christianity, and moreover that theirs is the only valid faith in all the world, there is still value in peaceably coming to the table to talk with others of different faiths, coming to some level of accord for the greater good of humanity, working together for common goals. 

If every Christian, be they fervently against the shared validity of other faiths—or not—were to conduct themselves as compassionate, selfless servants of Christ, seeking nothing in return for their favors, seeking not even the credit for conversion of others, they would stand out as fine ambassadors of their faith and would indeed win more converts that way.  However, the implied or expressed requirement of conversion and acceptance of Christ as a prerequisite for receiving Christian charity cheapens the Christian message.  One perfectly polite and kind web designer who initially took interest in our project rescinded his offer to assist us with free web design services when he came to a full understanding of our ecumenical and interfaith mission.  Evidently, he, too, believed that religious tolerance ‘stood in the way of Christ’.  There were, indeed, strings attached.  However, I cannot completely fault him.  If I were in his shoes as the talented web designer looking to share my skills with a Christian organization needing charity, but which refused to acknowledge religious freedoms, I probably would not have assisted him either.  Ultimately, it was a Unitarian Universalist, web designer, driven not by a mission of convincing us of his point of view, but who liked our peace-driven mission, who stepped up and became our web designer—and perhaps one of our best allies. 

 It is not my intention to single Christianity out unfairly as the only religion of the world which persecutes or which insists upon its own predominance and supersession over other religions.  All religions which aggressively missionize and proselytize have the tendency to present themselves as the only option and at times tend to persecute dissent.  There has been much of this in Islamic history as well.  But frankly, there are elements of tolerance organically built into the Islamic faith, whether they are practiced during particular regimes or not.  These can be found readily in the Qur’an.  Conversely, these elements of toleration are much harder to find within the Christian scriptures and are in many ways overshadowed by some very enigmatic Biblical passages (like those mentioned above) which are easily interpreted in a manner that fosters religious intolerance and a supersessionist theology.  As a matter of fact, I recently told my students that at least up until recent decades, the Jews were perhaps better treated and flourished more steadily while living in Islamic nations, than those Jews living under in the highly prejudiced and oppressive Christian regimes of Europe.  While there were certainly periods of oppression and intolerance toward Jews and Christians within Islamic history, one does not see the same level of intolerance and outright oppression there as one sees in Europe, which led to regular pogroms, mass forced conversions, mass forced migrations or expulsions of entire populations, an Inquisition, and ultimately attempted genocide. These are the sins which Christianity has to answer for in its dealings with the Jews, as an example of its frequent history of intolerance. 

At its core, Christianity is supposed to be a religion of love, of compassion, one which is open to all nations.  It sets aside the earlier, restrictive rules of Second Temple Judaism that excluded pagans from holding membership in their fold unless these complex codes and procedures were followed.  Judaism, for better or for worse, had highly restrictive codes that caused others to look upon its members (erroneously or not) as elitist.  But early Christianity made the benefits of the Jewish message available to all, in a way that was still unavailable to the many allies of Judaism in Roman times who nevertheless were unable to convert completely but still maintained their support of the Synagogues.  These “God-fearers”, as Paul and others had referred to them, were highly supportive of Judaism but were denied the full benefits of the Jewish blessing, since they were unwilling to undergo circumcision, to follow the Kosher food laws and to effectively change their socio-political status within Roman society.  But Christianity carried the Jewish message of the One God’s love for all humanity to realms that traditional Judaism had not brought it to.  Christianity had tremendous potential as a religion of reconciliation and unification for peoples of disparate origins.  Were it not for the supremely oppressive, restrictive, and elitist protocols and doctrines of Late Roman Christianity after its decriminalization, perhaps Christianity would have met its mark in this potential. 

How do we honor and respect the autonomy and the self-determination of Christians who insist that Christ is the only way, while still preventing more violence and oppression of non-Christians? 

It appears that there has been a growing trend among Christian theologians, a liberalizing trend if you will, to allow for the equality of other world religions, to make provisions for toleration amid the program of spreading the Christian mission.  This trend, I believe, is what has caused many Christian denominations to be part of the ecumenical movement and to engage in interfaith dialogue, to see that there are commonalities between all the world’s faiths, to recognize that there are common problems that we all face and that we would do better to handle together rather than alone.  Still, there must be room made at the table for those Christians who still wish to believe that theirs is the only way, that their particular conception and formulation of Christianity is the only correct interpretation.  They must be allowed to state their claims and to still be offered the opportunity to make peace with those of other religions, provided they sheath their proverbial swords. Without them, the ecumenical and interfaith movement will be hindered.  If they are excluded, they will still seek to gain converts who will be taught to hate other religions and to silence them.  And these exclusionistic and elitist Christians will continue to fight against the interfaith movement, more or less successfully, but nonetheless providing an obstacle to be overcome. 

With them at the table, they will be prevented from crying persecution; they will have the ability to voice their concerns; they will gradually begin to see their opponents more as human beings and even allies, just as King Cyrus of Persia was viewed by Isaiah as an instrument of God’s will—even called a messiah (Is 45:1).  Their goodwill toward those around them, encouraged by their inclusion in the discussion, will help them to continue to survive and gain adherents, but primarily because they are good ambassadors of their faith, not because of the threat of violence or coercion against those who disagree. 

I leave the reader with a quote—the motto of the Institute.  St. Crispina, an early fourth century African Christian martyr, stated when interrogated for being a Christian: “Worthless is the religious devotion that causes people to be crushed against their will.”  This statement was intended for the Roman magistrate who threatened her with death if she did not relinquish her Christian beliefs, but it is just as valid for worshippers of any religion, even Christianity itself.  We are all going to have to find a peaceful way to conduct ourselves in relation to one another, solving common problems, and focusing first on our commonalities and then celebrating our differences.  In my opinion, religious tolerance is key to the survival of the human race.

Fall Report: Upcoming Events

This has been a very busy Fall for us so far.  We have already received our state and federal nonprofit exemption letters, so we are legally allowed to begin fundraising to support our mission.  Our new website is finished, thanks to our volunteer web design coordinator, Deane Buchannan Stuart.  We are just beginning to resume the process of writing grant proposals, which we had to put on hold last year when we decided to transform into a project independent of Loyola Marymount University (LMU), where we began our journey, and to incorporate as a nonprofit in our own right.  During that time, we had to focus all our energies on the incorporation and tax exemption process, and allow the government officials to do their work in granting us our approvals, prior to approaching any outside foundations.  But now is the time to really begin our work, now that the preliminary groundwork is done. 

So, we’ve just begun to plan our first few events.  The first of these is a Middle Eastern music and dance performance which Melissa Crandall (our inaugural treasurer, and also my wife) will be helping to coordinate.  Melissa is a seasoned belly dancer specializing in Egyptian and Turkish styles, who also performed traditional Persian dance with the Pars National Ballet for many years.  Her background has afforded her some truly wonderful connections in the Middle Eastern music and dance community.  She is the right person to help coordinate and produce this event.  The idea for a show of this nature came to me earlier this year when Melissa’s current dance troupe was producing a number of shows as fundraisers for Japan relief, in the wake of the Tsunami and subsequent nuclear disasters.  This was surely a worthy cause.  But it struck me—what better match could there be than that of Middle Eastern dance and music and the cause of religious tolerance?  Since some of the most persistent difficulties in the world surround issues of religion in the Middle East, we would do well to focus on producing a show that highlights the shared musical commonalities of the Middle East—the elements, the tones, the flavors that are shared throughout the region regardless of religion or ethnicity.  Israeli musician Yuval Ron has embodied this in much of his music, performing to promote peace between peoples of the Mid-East who share common origins and a common palette of music.  Perhaps we may be able to invite him to perform at our show along with many other fine musicians and dancers that we are approaching.  We’ll most likely hold the show at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles in the early Spring.  Stay tuned for more news as it unfolds. 

The other major event we’ll be pioneering is actually a series of events that are part of an initiative.  Our secretary, Dolly Bush, had the excellent idea that some folks who might want to visit a particular house of worship in order to educate themselves may not know the proper etiquette of attending such a place.  So we’re planning a new initiative called “What To Know, Before You Go,” which will provide information to people about the particular customs of various faiths and will even culminate in organizing a series of “field trips” to a number of houses of worship in the Southern California area.  Anyone can attend.  I’ll be pioneering this program with some of my college students who are enrolled in my World Religions Class at LMU and who’ll be visiting the King Fahad Mosque in Culver City next week.  Last night, I had a delightful conversation with the mosque’s newly appointed Coordinator of Religious and Educational activities in preparation for my students’ visit.  We are both very excited about this collaboration and he is also very interested in exploring the possibility of having the mosque become a participating destination in our initiative.  He said that in his newly assumed role, he would like to do much more interfaith outreach, helping to educate people about Islam and dispelling negative myths and misconceptions about it. 

All of this is, of course, in addition to resuming our flagship project, the Institute’s ReligionMatters Show, formulated as a frequent video podcast devoted to discussing matters of religion and spirituality.  Eric Halsey (the producer of the show) and I are very eager to resume filming new episodes.  This also was put aside when we began the incorporation process earlier this year.  We were hoping, earlier, to interview a number of Holocaust survivors that I had met, but unfortunately we had to prioritize our task list in favor of getting the basic corporate fundamentals handled first.  But now that we’re trying to get back on track, we also have a number of other guests we’d like to interview, including a Christian man (a close friend of mine) who has written a history of his denomination—the International Churches of Christ—as well as bringing back Susana de Sola Funsten, our earlier guest, to talk about certain key aspects of Roman Catholicism.

I’m delighted that we have successfully passed the initial stages of incorporation and basic tax exemption, but those are comparable to boot camp for new military recruits.  After boot camp, every soldier has additional training to undergo prior to being deployed to his or her first duty station.  (I hope you’ll forgive the martial analogy, but many of the world’s most peaceful religions have used warrior metaphors and symbolism with great success; e.g. Tibetan Buddhism among others.)  So we have a long road ahead of us, but I believe that we have a good organization that is attracting good people and we’re making good connections with groups that want to set an example to others—namely that people of drastically different faiths can indeed get along just fine.  I ask you to consider stepping up to the plate (a baseball analogy this time) and volunteering your time and resources, and maybe even some funds, to help secure a brighter future for those who believe that religion should be a source of peacemaking instead of an occasion for  division, domination and devastation. 

New Addition To Our Staff

Dear Friends and Supporters:
I would like you to help me welcome a new member of our staff.  For the last few months, Deane Buchannan Stuart, a talented web designer from South Africa, has been assisting us as an unofficial consultant on the topic of branding, marketing and web design.  He has been tremendously generous with his time and energy and expertise.  After a discussion today, we together decided to form a more concrete alliance.  As such, I have just had the distinct pleasure of formally inviting him to our staff as a volunteer technical and research assistant to the Institute.  Deane joins the other competent and enthusiastic staff of the Institute and helps make our organization truly international!  He brings a wry sense of humor and a commitment to issues of human rights and tolerance.  Welcome, Deane!

Sincerely,

 

L. Arik Greenberg, Ph.D.
President