Interfaith Thoughts

For three years, I coordinated an interfaith group of Muslims and Christians that met on the last Tuesday of each month for meditation and fellowship, united by our desire for peace in the Middle East and in the world. It was a very rewarding effort for us personally, if not very effective on a larger scale; much was learned and many lasting friendships were made. Today, because I was missing them, I wrote this note to the core members of that group, many of whom have since gone off to other countries and other lives.

The recent fighting in Lebanon has made me think of each one of you, and wish that we could all be together to share our sadness, anxiety, and hopes for the Middle East and the world. It seems incredible that we started that group back when the second Intifada began – before Sept. 11, before Afghanistan, before the Iraq War, before Abu-Ghraib, before Guantanamo, before the demise of Arafat and Sharon, before the building of the Wall, before the threats against Iran, before this latest terrible escalation of violence – just to name a few of the events none of us could have predicted, even in our worst imaginings, when we began meeting together.

J. and I are living much of time now in Montréal, in a political climate quite unlike the United States. A thousand people demonstrated here on Sunday against the overwhelming use of force by the Israeli military in Lebanon. There is a lot of opposition to Stephen Harper’s alignment with the U.S. conservative position, and this comes partly from the fact that 40,000 Canadians are stranded in Lebanon, and partly because many Canadians live in extremely diverse cities among an international community that includes people of all religions and ethnicities. This weekend I was walking with my father down St. Catherine Street, the main shopping street downtown, which had been closed for a street fair. It was very crowded. We passed Asians giving neck massages; a bevy of young scarfed Muslim women shopping for men’s shirts; tall, dark sub-Saharan Africans; women wearing full hijab, pushing baby carriages; curly-haired North Africans; Latin American families speaking Spanish; running children chattering in Italian; even an occasional Inuit native. I looked over at my father, who comes from a small rural town. His eyes were wide, and he turned to me and said, “So many people – and not two of them are alike!”

“Yes,” I said. “Isn’t it amazing? It’s the whole world.”

Living in a multi-cultural city creates people whose daily lives must, by necessity, include tolerance, understanding, and appreciation of the “other.” We realize that this is one of the most diverse and tolerant societies on the planet, here in Quebec and Montreal, but that doesn’t mean that racism and fear don’t exist – of course they do. Among the more extreme French separatists, for example, there is a definite feeling of superiority and a desire to preserve the French culture and language that sometimes feels racist and intolerant. But the society discusses this openly, and struggles to come to terms with a post-modern world where we are moving toward, not away from, the mixing of cultures.

As I think about what we might be able to do as individuals to contribute to a better world, in the face of all this military aggression and escalating violence-breeding-violence, one thing is to be more intentional about sharing the experiences that have led each of us to have a broader world view. We can talk much more openly about our travel, the people we’ve known, our interfaith friends: in fact, I think we’re called to do this. The last time I was at home in Vermont, one of the little neighbor children, a girl of about 7, came over to our back yard. “We were in Burlington last weekend,” she announced. “And we saw some really dark people there.” She was astonished, and rather disturbed; she spoke as if she had seen an exotic animal in a zoo. My Montreal neighbors would be shocked; it’s very hard for them to understand how different and how truly isolated much of America really is. It’s not this girl’s fault that she is growing up in a monochromatic place – I did too, and it was a wonderful childhood. But it is definitely our responsibility, as people who know a different world, to help younger people understand and connect with a greater humanity that’s reflective of the world we live in today. The best way to do that may be by telling stories of people we’ve known and relationships we’ve had.

On this Tuesday I am wishing we could all be together again, creating for an hour our own little utopia of friendship across differences that most of the world sees as boundaries. Instead I’m feeling grateful for the times we did share, and the way I’m able to carry that positive energy and example with me through all my days.

May God’s love be with all of you, this day and always.

Comments

[marja-leena]

Beth, this is very beautiful, wise and full of hope! Your kind of group sounds so special and so needed today. Thank you for sharing this letter.

[wolfa]

Living in a multi-cultural city creates people whose daily lives must, by necessity, include tolerance, understanding, and appreciation of the “other.” Oh, ha. Yes, there's a lot of tolerance -- but a lot of intolerance, hidden under the "we're so tolerant! look at the ethnic festivals!" mask. You are, I assume, white; I know you're Christian. Sure, friends who are Black say it's less intolerant here than elsewhere. Sure, it's easy to be an atheist, and there's no *overt* discrimination against people of other religions or languages . . . but Montreal is not this oasis of people living in perfect harmony.

[Jean]

That's beautiful, Beth. Thank you. I too very much value the intercultural communities I've lived and worked in for most of my adult life. It is the single thing that has most enriched my life and made me who I am, the single thing I'm absolutely sure I did right. It is what drew me to my present workplace, a very cosmopolitan university campus in Central London. This week we are all grieving the death of a very dear colleague, as you know. Some are crying hysterically and others are tight-lipped. Some of the Christians and Moslems have asked nervously about the protocol of bereavement and funerals in a Jewish family. But mostly I think, like me, everyone has found it moving and enriching to mourn with a group of friends who all express their feelings differently and to feel the grief of It has certainly made me stop and appreciate this community more than I often bother to do. I think you are right, it's really important to share this. We can change the world just a tiny a bit for the better by doing that.

[Beth]

Wolfa, I didn't mean to imply that there is perfect harmony here. Everything is relative.

[wolfa]

I think, though, that you overestimate the tolerance and underestimate the real intolerance among the extremists of the separatists (who have some power) and the federalists (who don't, and have largely moved elsewhere to be intolerant there). It's couched in "saving our language", but that doesn't make it less truly xenophobic. (Most separatists are, of course, entirely normal people, as are most people who want to save the language and culture.) Anti-semitism is a very large problem, too -- sure, in part it's just not knowing any Jews, but if you don't know any and feel they're evil, and therefore avoid them and continue to not know any . . .

It's also hard when you need to separate out Quebec as a province and Montreal -- or even Montreal vs. Quebec City.

In the end, though, being less intolerant than very intolerant people isn't really much more impressive than the "well, we tortured less than Saddam did!" arguments earlier.

[Beth]

Thanks, Wolfa. To some extent I don't feel qualified yet to make sweeping statements about Quebec society - I just haven't been here long enough to see what's going on beneath the surface, and so I'd rather open up the topic and hear from people like you who have more experience. I've certainly encountered plenty of prejudice against Americans!! And your final point is very well taken.

[Jean]

I don't imagine I would disagree with Wolfa about any of the things that make him/her angry. But I strongly think there is still a place for being loving and positive. It doesn't imply ignorance or naivety. It's a choice to pay some attention to and cherish what is good, not an alternative to working to combat all that's wrong.

[Lorianne]

I'm struck by your 7yo Vermont neighbor, as I find myself surprised that in an age of nearly ubiquitous TVs, she'd never (presumably) seen any black folks before. I guess, though, that seeing a black person in person is different from seeing one on TV, and the version of black folks in the media certainly isn't representative of the real folks you'd encounter in Burlington.

But still...I guess I'd fallen into the liberal mindset of thinking everyone's aware of diversity, when clearly everyone ISN'T.

[Martine]

Beth: You wrote: "Among the more extreme French separatists, for example, there is a definite feeling of superiority and a desire to preserve the French culture and language that sometimes feels racist and intolerant."

I've always had a different vision of the more "extreme" separatists. I don't think that they feel "superior". Quite the opposite. Their intolerance is rooted in a historical sense of exclusion and inferiority, which is why they often bring back the "nés pour un petit pain" or "speak white" comments which were thrown at them a loooong time ago. It's a defensive mechanism, one that says: "Fine, the rest of Canada doesn't like us and understand us, so we'll just split and stick together."

I'm not trying to say some of them are not racist or intolerant, but I doubt the feeling of superiority is there. It's more of a victim complex.

Just a precision. ;-)

I also believe that extreme separatists are quite rare and have very little credibility amongst the general population, even amongst the people who have independentists beliefs.

[Cee]

This was beautiful. How peaceful and valuable those Tuesdays sound.

[aj]

A wonderful post, Beth.

Montreal isn't perfect but it has been a wonderful place to grow up. When you grow up with a strange name and mixed parents you get introduced to concepts of diversity and cultural relativism and 'post-modern identity' pretty early on...my dad was raised in the very idealistic post-partition, post-Gandhi India where there seemed to be a bright future for all Indians now that the yoke of the Raj was thrown off; his old friends who would drop in from time to time came from all over: Parsi, Sikh, Muslim, Hindu and Christian alike. It was always eye-opening, as much as trips to the international spice shop at plaza Cote-Des-Neiges which back in the day was the only place to get good curry fixings, or to some university auditorium to see a rented print of some Bollywood film. (Now you can see the movies at the AMC, and get the spices at Loblaws. How times change.)

To echo Martine's comment, there's a self-serving persecution complex among many politicial groups in Canada; certainly among some of the hardcore nationalists here. It's very much like that which exists among "red-state" / neo-con / theo-cons in the States, who, despite controlling all three branches of government, present the case that they are marginalized. (Similarly, aggrieved Western conservatives in Canada, I might add.)

I don't follow French talk radio as much as I should but I'm sure there are some Bill O'Reilly types out there who love to throw fresh grievances like red meat to an audience who are united as long as there is some villanous Other who threatens their worldview...just as the Faux News types hype up 'a war on christmas' or other such nonsense, I'm sure there's someone who will see malice in an English street sign or if Pierre Falardeau doesn't get funding for his latest movie, something.