FAITH HOUSE Manhattan

Waiting for the Dawn (U2's verses of hope)

~ by Samir Selmanovic

Monotheistic religions have been a blessing to the world. Each in its own time and in its own way, Judaism, Christianity, and Islam not only transformed religion by decrying the plurality of gods but they also changed the history of the world. The concept of one God made all humans equal.

Our common creaturehood made us all brothers and sisters of one human family. This unity superceded fragmentations of religions, races, and tribes of the time. A new way opened for a radical respect of “the other” no matter how “the other” differed in possessions, status, gender, or other accidents of birth. Every human being was now conceived as created, sustained, and blessed by one God, given the liberty to live under the same Mystery. By recognizing our common lot as finite human beings living together in the universe we can never fully understand, these religions were a foundation for present-day democracies.

Under One God we became One.

The world has also endured a lot from us over the centuries. I’ve spoken about these three monotheistic religions to non-believers for years, and they say: “At best, Jews, Christians, and Muslims look like three religious stooges slapping each other. At worst, they look like three brothers with hands clasped in prayer and soaked in blood.” We have colonized the name of God with our religions, and many in the world have simply had it with us. They believe we have nothing more to say. That's why they are turning other places to seek and understand God.

If we cannot move beyond our own tradition’s views of God, if we cannot hold something more sacred than our own religions, if we cannot keep on believing in our God while having a sense of creaturely self-doubt about the way we understand not only God but anything at all, then we all have turned away from one God. We, through our own religion, have betrayed humanity and are not to be trusted.

We all ought to take time and grieve about this.

Monotheism must change, or wither away. I believe that it can, must, and will not merely correct, but evolve. The only question is whether we, the three greatest hopes and disappointments of history, will come to our senses, kneel down along with all creation, and accept to be a part of something larger than ourselves.

We all ought to take time and grieve about this--so that we can hope again.

Since 9/11 I have seen many glimmers of hope. One of them is the work of Bono and U2. Enjoy animated excerpts of their song called Yahweh (from their album How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb). It can be sung by a Jew, a Christian, a Muslim, even by a person who questions the whole enterprise of God. All of us have lost our way and are "waiting for the dawn."

      Yahweh (excerpts, by U2, from How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb)

      Take this soul
      Stranded in some skin and bones
      Take this soul
      And make it sing

      Yahweh, Yahweh
      Always pain before a child is born
      Yahweh, Yahweh
      Still I'm waiting for the dawn

      Still waiting for the dawn, the sun is coming up
      The sun is coming up on the ocean
      This love is like a drop in the ocean
      This love is like a drop in the ocean

      Yahweh, Yahweh
      Always pain before a child is born
      Yahweh, tell me now
      Why the dark before the dawn?

      Take this city
      A city should be shining on a hill
      Take this city
      If it be your will
      What no man can own, no man can take
      Take this heart
      Take this heart
      Take this heart
      And make it break

A Sabbath Poem (Rilke)

          DO NOT BE TROUBLED GOD
          ~ by Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926)

          Do not be troubled, God, though they say “mine”
          of all things that permit it patiently.
          They are like wind that lightly strokes the boughs
          and says: MY tree. ...

          They will say "mine" as one will sometimes call
          the prince his friend in speech with villagers,
          this prince being very great--and far away. ...

          They still say “mine,” and claim possession, though
          each thing, as they approach, withdraws and closes;
          a silly charlatan perhaps thus poses
          as owner of the lightning and the sun.
          And so they say: my life, my wife, my child,
          my dog, well knowing all that they have styled
          their own: life, wife, child, dog, remain
          shapes foreign and unknown,
          that blindly groping they must stumble on.
          This truth, be sure, only the great discern,
          who long for eyes. The others WILL not learn
          that in the beggary of their wandering
          they cannot claim a bond with any thing,
          but, driven from possessions they have prized,
          not by their own belongings recognized,
          they can OWN WIVES no more than they own flowers,
          whose life is alien and apart from ours.

          God, do not lose your equilibrium.
          Even he who loves you and discerns you face
          in darkness, when he trembles like a light
          you breath upon, —he cannot own you quite.
          And if at night one holds you closely pressed,
          locked in his prayer so you cannot stray,
               you are the guest
               who comes, but not to stay.

          God, who can hold you? To yourself alone
          belonging, by no owner’s hand disturbed,
          you are like unripened wine that unperturbed
          grows sweeter and is all its own.

(from the Poems From the Book of Hours, New Directions Publishing, 1941)
Thank you Helme Silvet for this poem!
Yes, I know, I have to give you back the book.

Pitching Our Tents

~ by Ryan Bell who is the Senior Pastor of the Hollywood Seventh-day Adventist Church and is currently completing his Doctor of Ministry in Missional Leadership at Fuller Theological Seminary. You can read his blog, Intersections at www.ryanjbell.net

Why should Christians participate in the Faith House Project? I believe that Jews, Muslims, atheist, and others will each generate solid reasons for their participation. Such reasons will be rooted in their story/worldview. For us Christians, it is the incarnation that can most powerfully and creatively shape our imagination towards an answer.

For generations missionaries from the West (the US, UK, Australia & New Zealand) have entered communities of people profoundly different from themselves. These missionaries were taught to enter these communities as learners. This learning encompassed everything from language to food to social norms. Our short hand for this is “culture.” In short, these missionaries knew they were entering a world of which they had almost no understanding. As they learned about the people to whom God had sent them they were engaging the profound theological practice of “paying attention” – paying attention to God’s Spirit, being attentive to their own hearts and souls, and watching for evidence of God’s initiatives in the community.

Naturally, missionary engagements almost never went that smoothly. The modern missionary movement has become known for its arrogance and colonialism. Nevertheless, missiologists and responsible missionaries the world over know that they must be, at some level, anthropologists as well as theologians.

We have assumed that a learning posture toward our own native culture is unnecessary. After all, this is our home. However, as the world has come to us (especially in the urban centers) and the social fabric of Western societies has worn thin and come apart, we find ourselves in a vastly different world than that of our parents and grandparents. The realities of this changed world have led some authors to declare, “The Sky Is Falling” (for a more extensive treatment see Alan Roxburgh’s book by that title on this website).

In the midst of the church’s confusion about its place in this unhinged world, we are (or should be) driven back to our core narratives. And, at the very outset of those narratives we find the story of God showing up in our world at the most unlikely time and the most unlikely place. Theologians call this the Incarnation – divine become human. St. John said this about this mystery: “The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood.”

So, the primary mission question of our time is, can we live among the people of our neighborhoods? Can we “pitch our tent” in the pluralistic village as a neighbor and learner without coming with all the answers in our pocket? Can we open ourselves to the possibility of learning as much from our neighbors as they will learn from us? My contention is that much that has passed for evangelism and/or mission work in the US and elsewhere has been shaped more by a colonial than by an incarnational imagination. It’s high time we have our imaginations shaped by the story of God’s missionary encounter with us.

Why then should we participate in the Faith House project? First, to learn and to receive, and then perhaps to teach and to give.

A Sabbath Poem (Hafiz)

TWO GIANT FAT PEOPLE ~ Shams-ud-din Muhammad Hafiz (c. 1320-1389)
God and I have become like two giant fat people living in a tiny boat.
We keep bumping into each other and
l a u g h i n g .

(from the Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices
from the East and West, translation Daniel Ladinsky
- Penguin Compass, 2002, on this website)

Why We Fight

~ by Mark F. Carr whose love of earth and its physical beauty is surpassed only by an unquenchable desire for intellectual and emotional exploration of ideas. He loves his job at Loma Linda University, School of Religion's Center for Christian Bioethics.

When Samir introduced me to the Faith House project, I thought of my own journey to understanding. Some years ago, I sat in class listening to my Muslim professor lecture about Islamic theology. I was astounded at what I heard; so many similarities to what I believed myself! How could a sectarian Christian from Alaska have point of common faith with a Persian Muslim who had only recently moved to the United States?! But in addition to the excitement I felt, I was also disturbed.

You see, part of the culture of western Christianity is to fight. We live and breathe conflict from our present day to as far back as you can trace our history….The most famous peace in western civilization was the Pax Romana, the Peace of Rome, which came about only after the universal and brutal destruction of all opposition.

Part of this culture of conflict had taught me to sift everything I heard of theological significance through my apologetic sieve. It was tiring me out! I recall the point at which I decided to simply listen and learn from this man who had once told me with no uncertainty that God had brought me to this school for a purpose and that God was truly involved in my life. He believed it, and I believed it; so I listened and I learned. I learned to appreciate the authenticity of early Islam and how it brought monotheism to the Arabic people. And how closely related it was to both Judaism and Christianity. Later, when I took similar coursework from my Jewish professor, I was equally stunned at how much I had in common with this rabbi’s understanding of God and his presence in the life of his creation.

How is it that I had been taught to believe that my faith was so drastically different from these other faiths of Abraham? And why does our society continue to foster conflict, exclusion, and hatred among us? I’ll share two quick illustrations of the points of commonality I found and then posit one simple reason we continue to fight.

One of the fundamental teachings of Judaism is that God created humankind. Important to this doctrine is the idea that his creation, humans of every sort, can perceive God in his creation--but not simply that humans have the capability to see and perceive of his presence. Included also is the idea that humans can reason well enough to reflect upon notions of morality. Of course human understanding of God’s revelation strikes each of us in personal ways, but communities of faith can come to points of general agreement.

Similar notions of human capability to perceive God and establish notions of morality as a result are present in both Christianity and Islam. In fact, even though there are well developed notions of the moral life in each of the Abrahamic faiths, at least three things are anathema to each of them; idolatry, adultery, and murder. Granted, there are subtly different ways of understanding these three issues, but all agree they ought not to be done.

Now, why would we continue to fight with each other? We fight, in part because so much of our societies depend upon our continued fighting. Take the media for instance and the controversy about the depictions of Muhammad in a Danish newspaper. Stupid as the original action was, it didn’t get much attention when the cartoons were first published. The attention came months later when the media began reporting it. This caused a stir all over the world, riots, killing, hate-filled speeches, and an incredible spirit of revenge. What did the media do during this time? Laugh all the way to the bank!

Why not do something in your little world today to reduce the hatred and violence? Why not find a point of peace and commonality with some “other” person this week and celebrate?

A Sabbath Poem (Aquinas)

EVERY FOOT A SHRINE ~ St. Thomas Aquinas (1225 - 1274)
Every creature has a religion. Every foot is a shrine where a secret candle burns.
Every cell in us worships God.
Every arrow in the bow of desire has rushed out in hope of nearing Him.

(from the Love Poems from God: Twelve Sacred Voices
from the East and West, translation Daniel Ladinsky
- Penguin Compass, 2002, on this website)

Blessed Are the Ambivalent

~ by Julius Nam who teaches religion at Loma Linda University and blogs at www.progressiveadventism.com.

This past month I threw a usual December cinematic feast for myself. In between “Mission Impossible 3” and missed episodes of “Gilmore Girls” on Youtube, I watched three movies that all had to do with 9/11, Middle East relations, and fundamentalism—Paradise Now, Munich, and United 93. Each was entertaining, satisfying, instructive, inspiring, and disturbing in its own way; I recommend them all.

Whether it was Paradise Now, Munich, or even United 93, what intrigued me the most was the way the filmmakers portrayed terrorists and assassins. These are characters caught in the seemingly irreversible course of events with irresistible forces pressing upon them. Whether it was exacting revenge on terrorists or wreaking havoc in their oppressors’ land, doing what they were selected and ordered to do was the “right” thing to do within the matrix of their beliefs. Yet each film also has characters that are ambivalent about the acts of violence that they are about to commit. Percolating beneath the expressions of fundamentalist conviction and righteous indignation are doubts about the rightness of their cause and the appropriateness of their actions. Still . . . they proceed—chucking their moral struggles aside, plowing ahead with blind determination, believing and trying to believe intently that they are in the right.

Faith spells danger, even death, in this world of contrary and seemingly incompatible religious convictions. Yet each religion calls for greater faith, for deeper convictions, and for higher commitment from its adherents. The measuring stick for spirituality as touted in many of our halls of worship is the intensity of one’s beliefs—ignoring the fact that the same beliefs, when bent a little toward the right or driven just a few steps further to fringes, is the fuel that fans the fire of murderous fanaticism.

I wish that religions would put a premium on ambivalence as much as the filmmakers of my December movies. Things of the divine and the supernatural are mysteries that force us to question as much as they require us to believe. Being ambivalent means to be unsure—unsure about our understanding of the true nature of reality, about the true nature of our understanding, about the rightness of our convictions. Moreover, it means to be OK about being unsure.

Just as faith requires courage and discipline, so does ambivalence. It resists the urge to arrive at conclusions and move ahead with them. It does not hastily settle or line up “facts” to build incomplete arguments that are proclaimed as truth. It questions, doubts, wrestles, and grapples with the tension called life. It neither chucks moral struggles aside nor proceeds with blind determination.

Whether one is a Jew, Buddhist, Muslim, Christian, or an Atheist, I submit that each tradition is richly blessed by embracing the value of ambivalence. Why? Because ambivalence leads to humility—even in the midst of our deep convictions. It demonstrates to one another that knowledge of the ultimate couched in individual traditions and conceptual frameworks is incomplete and unable to offer truly satisfying answers to all of life’s questions. It prevents us from realizing the triumphalist fantasies of our faiths and tempers the arrogance of our traditions.

Thanks to the three films, I’m reminded of Christ whose birth I celebrated also this month. One who exemplified a mysterious blend of conviction and humility; one who showed a great deal of ambivalence over the blind adulation of the masses; one who questioned the validity of his will in relation to the divine; one who wondered out loud on the cross whether or not God was with him. So, my wish for you this year—dear friend—is that you grow into a person of great ambivalence, and therefore of great faith. In this new year, may you find yourself reveling in the mystery of the divine.

A Caravan of Hope

~ by Samir Selmanovic

Hello friends. We are finally public! I am exhausted and ecstatic. Many thanks to those of you who have already signed up to help in different ways, and welcome to those of you who are just arriving to the conversation.

At the beginning of this journey I have more fears and questions than I can count, but I do have some answers for myself. Sages from Christian tradition have taught me the following truth: "You can't contain God. You can find God's footsteps in every life and every community." In the last several years, I have come to realize that if the first order of my life on earth is to seek God, then I must know "the other" and let myself be blessed by God that is in "the other."

I am a follower of Christ. But at times I also find myself to be a Muslim, a Jew, and even an atheist. This is because I have been blessed by the love, care, and wisdom from sojourners in other religions. In fact, I don't know if I would be walking with Christ today if it was not for their help.

I envision our paths toward God being woven together, not in order to morph into one religion, but to coexist together for the good of the world. When the treasures of different spiritual traditions open up to you and me, let's not hesitate to learn. In the matters of God, only by being a student at all times can qualify you to be a teacher some of the time. If you keep on learning, sooner or later, the treasures of your spiritual tradition will be needed by all and give light to many.

The world is troubled by religion, including yours and mine. We are on a journey towards a different kind of faith. Encourage us, critique us, or if you prefer, simply listen in. If you want to be our partner, friend, or cheerleader, let us know. Welcome to our caravan of hope!