Thursday, October 12, 2017

A Rabbi, a Pastor & an Imam Walk Into a Bar...

“At one of our many meals together—this particular time at a Seattle bar and grill—our server looked at the three of us and said, “So is this the beginning of a joke—‘A rabbi, a pastor, and an imam walk into a bar … ’?” We came up with our own punch line: “They ordered two martinis and a root beer!” But sometimes the attention we draw is more serious in nature. Following our presentations, we often feel euphoria and exhaustion and hope to find a quiet place to unwind together. After an event in the Northeast, we went back to our hotel, where the bar, in the far corner area of the large hotel lobby, was still open. We headed for cushioned chairs around a low round table, a little parade - Rabbi Ted in his kippah, Pastor Don in his clerical collar, and Imam Jamal in his signature collarless shirt—each of us carrying the scriptures we had used during our presentation.

As we passed the only other occupied table, Ted and Jamal were uncomfortably aware of the unfriendly glances of the four young and somewhat inebriated men sitting there. “What have we here?” they muttered, “A rabbi … a Muslim … and will ya’ look at that—it’s a minister, collar and all. What’s a Christian doing with them?” They sneered at the three of us over their shoulders. Neither Ted nor Jamal said anything about this at first, but both were on alert for trouble. Don neither saw nor heard what Ted and Jamal couldn’t help but notice—that this was not a safe place for them; that aggression could be directed at them at any moment.

A straight, white, male Protestant minister would have less cause to fear anything, but for Ted and Jamal, this was not the case. Many Jews of Ted’s generation grew up with invisible antennae, always on guard for threatening environments. He feels most comfortable in New York and Los Angeles because, while Jews are still not in the majority there, these are cities with substantial Jewish populations and a living awareness of Jewish culture. But even in those places, there is an unconscious vigilance that never quite goes away. This is something that is often difficult for non-Jews to understand, unless they, too, have lived as a distinct minority, and have a personal and group history of persecution. It’s like trying to tell someone who has never experienced a panic attack what it’s like to have one. He or she may understand it intellectually, but it is impossible to “get it” on a visceral level.

Because Jamal’s parents were diplomats and moved every two years, he grew up living in many countries where he was among the majority culture; as a result, he did not develop this deeply ingrained awareness of otherness. Unless Jews live in Israel, this is not an experience that they ever have (and even there, they are surrounded by hostile neighbors). But since 9/11, Imam Jamal has perceived his minority status as a Muslim in America in a new way. Overnight, his personal safety became threatened in a way it had not previously been. He got pulled out of airplane security lines for extra scrutiny. He knew that there were certain places he probably shouldn’t go, and a nearly empty bar with four young guys who’d had too much to drink was probably among them.

We ordered our drinks (two martinis and a root beer) and a light snack and chatted about the evening’s program and how it had gone. Don relaxed into his chair but Ted and Jamal, while appearing to be unaware of the continuing taunts behind them, remained vigilant. Finally, Ted said, “Are you guys aware of the energy coming at us from that table?” Jamal nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I’ve been aware of them since we came in. They started making remarks about us right away.” Don looked concerned, as he realized that he had not made the same observations. We didn’t look at them because we knew that would have been provocative, but, even so, we could hear that one of the guys was more outspoken than the others. It was as if he was inciting them, trying to whip them up into something that would explode in the room. But there was another voice, too, one that in its good-humored tone, we could tell was working on defusing the situation.

Without discussing it, we all knew that what we had to do was what we always did: share our prayers before we ate and drank. We were not about to hide. Ted went first, repeating the traditional words in Hebrew. Then Don, saying grace, and Jamal giving thanks for the food in Arabic. We became so focused on the blessing of the moment that it was as if our energy was withdrawn from the room. While this was happening, the four guys at the other table got up and left. First we were aware of the quiet, and then we turned to see an empty table across the bar.

Strangely enough, it was Pastor Don who seemed most shaken by this incident. Experiencing the animosity with which Ted and Jamal are deeply familiar gave him the visceral realization that he, too, could be an object of hatred, that people could be dangerously angry at him, just for being with Ted and Jamal.
For Rabbi Ted and Imam Jamal, it was another in a long line of situations in which they had felt concern simply for being who they are. For Pastor Don, it was another door opening into the experience of being the other. For all of us, it underscored the importance of our work in support of peaceful relations among faiths, and it illustrated the difference between being a member of a majority tradition and being a member of a minority tradition. The sight of three religious leaders from three different traditions walking together should be a welcome sight. Until it is universally so, we still have work to be done.

Early on in our work together, we realized that we were creating a way to help ourselves and others become more intentional and conscious of how interfaith dialogue can happen. We identified five stages of interfaith dialogue that can help us all experience the many possibilities for healing that interfaith dialogue and collaboration can provide. They are:

• Stage 1: Sharing stories to move beyond separation and fear
• Stage 2: Appreciating our core teachings
• Stage 3: In the context of our core teachings, sharing consistencies and inconsistencies
• Stage 4: Engaging in more difficult conversations
• Stage 5: Experiencing spiritual practices from other traditions

As you read through these stages, you can see how one naturally leads to the next. In our own relationship, stage 1 consisted of simply talking to each other and sharing stories and aspects of our traditions that have influenced the directions of our spiritual paths. This sharing naturally led to appreciating the core teachings of each of our traditions (stage 2). Next, we began to share some of the texts and beliefs that flowed from and supported our core teachings, along with our realization that there are parts of our traditions inconsistent with our own core teachings. Naming these inconsistent verses and beliefs in each of our traditions opened the way for much more honest sharing (stage 3). At first we labeled those aspects awkward. Later, we realized that some of them—such as exclusivity, violence, inequality of men and women, and homophobia—are simply unacceptable.

Because we had spent time becoming more vulnerable by sharing troubling aspects of our traditions, we were ready to share some of the more difficult conversations (stage 4). One of these continuing topics has to do with the Middle East. Although we each support full human rights for both Israelis and Palestinians, we clearly have different points of view. We do not always agree, and sometimes our disagreements are vigorous. But we strive to keep our hearts open as we engage in this challenging step in the process of interfaith dialogue. Finally, we reach that place where we can dispel the fear that interfaith dialogue will weaken our own faith and rob us of our identity. We celebrate the spiritual dimensions of another faith (stage 5). The differences between and among our faiths can focus our awareness of the universals to which they each point. The understanding of our differences can, finally, help us each to grow spiritually.”

~ Pastor Don Mackenzie, Religion Gone Astray: What We Found at the Heart of Interfaith

No comments:

Post a Comment