In this new series, we speak with colleagues, mentors, and students about their interreligious experiences, past and present. Four questions, four thoughts – FOURthought!

How did interreligious leadership emerge as a personal calling for you?

I met the assistant director for spiritual life at Northeastern University early in my freshman year, and she invited me to an interfaith dinner and dialogue. Honestly, I went mostly because she mentioned that there would be food! I entered that first meeting on guard, ready for a debate, ready to defend and attack. To my surprise, the environment was warm and welcoming. To begin with, there was food, and it wasn’t pizza—like at so many other student events! We all sat on the floor and began with informal conversation about the recent winter vacation. We then opened the “formal” part of the meeting with personal introductions, and I immediately felt that the people present actually wanted to know me. This was followed by a discussion about how we were going to engage in the dialogue. Phrases like “genuine curiosity,” “personal experience,” and “listen for understanding” all caught my attention, and I knew this space was different. I dropped my sword. People began to share thoughtfully and vulnerably about their experiences of the world and of the Divine. It was in this meeting that I first tasted the power of a well-framed interfaith (or interreligious) encounter. Amidst the increasing polarization of the world, the interfaith dinner brought people together and gave them a space in which to share food, to share thoughts and rich parts of themselves. I knew I would be back next week.

What drew you to the BILI program?

I heard about BILI through the spiritual life folks at Northeastern at the beginning of my junior year, and it felt exactly like what I was looking for at the time: a program that fostered the cross-pollination of ideas and experiences across campuses and a range of religious and spiritual traditions. At that point, I had been leading interfaith efforts at my school for a couple years and was craving more learning and fellowship with other student leaders passionate about the work. I was also interested in seeing if together we could create something larger that was student driven; I was not disappointed.

What was one key learning experience from BILI?

The first story we were asked to read as a fellowship group was about Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi’s first visit to Marsh Chapel at Boston University in 1955. A new graduate student at BU, Reb Zalman was looking for a suitable place to pray the morning service before classes. Marsh Chapel was the only building he found open at that time of day. However, as an Orthodox Jew, he was uncomfortable praying in the main sanctuary, which had statues of Jesus and the Evangelists, as well as in the lower-level chapel, which contained a large cross on the altar. And so, the rabbi found a small space in a nearby room where he could pray. The next day, the Dean of Marsh Chapel, Rev. Howard Thurman, prepared the smaller chapel for Reb Zalman, removing the portable Christian iconography and setting up candles and a beautiful Bible (opened to the Book of Psalms) on the lectern. From there, the two men forged a close bond and carried on their relationship for years to come. For me, this story characterizes one of the most important pieces of interfaith work: authentic hospitality. What does it look like to invite someone into a sacred space in a way that is both welcoming and that does not require you to abandon your truth? Dean Thurman intentionally made space for Reb Zalman, while maintaining his own religious identity (the Christian chapel was restored after Reb Zalman left). 

What advice might you offer to other religious or cultural leaders about engagement across lines of difference?

Listen. Often, the people who find their way into interreligious settings are caring and inquisitive. These folks come with a hunger to learn and to connect. One challenge that I have found is that sometimes I actually begin to hypothesize about my dialogue partner and their story. I hear about someone’s faith practice or background and my mind is immediately flooded with images and associations. This is important in developing empathy, but the danger is that one can make too many assumptions about the person who is speaking. So, my advice is to acknowledge the sudden associations you make in these moments, make a mental note to explore them later, and continue to listen carefully to what the person is saying. I find that I am most surprised by a person’s story when it does not match my preconceived notions of that individual (or type of person). Then I remind myself to listen deeply for understanding. Maybe then I can glimpse the world through their eyes for just a moment.