Engaging in InterFaith: A Personal Reflection

Throughout my career, people both inside and outside the Church have asked how I, as a Latter-day Saint, could teach religious education. For the most part these questions did not come from people who knew me, who had been around me long enough to recognize that my faith was not diluted by teaching about other religions. Similarly, those outside my faith recognized that I was good at my job and did not proselytize. The questions usually came from people who did not know me and thought there might be more suitable jobs for a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

When I went to university as a newly returned missionary, one of the older members of my local faith community spoke to my mum: “We’re worried about Jimmy; we’re worried that he’s going to lose his faith.” The issue was that I was going to study Theology and Religious Studies at a University with an Anglican foundation. Much later I came across a book written by John Hull that outlines a particular attitude that might be found within people of faith, and within wider faith communities: “I am holy, the argument says, and you are holy but the ground between us is unholy ground and we will contaminate each other through harmful mingling of blood if we meet.” The idea seemed to be that by coming into contact with ideas and beliefs from outside my faith tradition, my personal faith would be challenged and potentially eroded.

Why did I not share this worry? As a convert to the Church in my teens, I think I was relatively settled in my faith, and I had been challenged when initially applying to university before my mission. Indeed, one admissions department spoke with my teacher to query whether I would be able to separate my faith from my studies. I came to realize through my studies that I did not need to sacrifice any aspect of my faith to study or understand the faith of others, indeed my faith was enhanced. When I engaged in a module that suggested a distinction between the ‘Jesus of history’ and the ‘Christ of faith,’ I was able to learn about different views, and I feel come out the other side with a more robust faith in Jesus as the Christ.

In my exploration of religion and literature I used Tolkien’s Catholic imagery in The Silmarillion to learn more about the impact of faith on artists and philosophers, but also learned more about the way that I read and experience literature through the lens of my faith. It is these experiences that served as the foundation of my understanding of interfaith. Maybe it was youthful naivety that meant I didn’t see my study of something I loved as opposed to my faith, but on graduation three years later and on reflection thirty years later, I can see that my faith is stronger but also more vibrant and nuanced because of these experiences.

The Inter Faith Network for the UK defines the term:

‘Inter faith’ is a term used to describe interactions between people of different faiths, and in some cases between those of religious and non-religious beliefs.

This broad understanding highlights the different ways people experience interfaith in their lives. In my role as a Professor of Religious Education I am often invited to formal interfaith events where I might speak, or be part of a panel that discusses issues of mutual interest. This is an opportunity that not many people receive, though interfaith organisations and groups tend to be open to everyone. Most of the interfaith experiences happen in the act of daily living, and I think this is true for everyone. I think about a typical week, and I will spend time with students, colleagues, friends, on social media; not a day goes by without encountering someone with different beliefs than I. Most of my life is spent in such encounters.

The central part of my life’s experiences are the relationships that I develop. As a person of faith my relationship with God is an important aspect of how I view life, as are the relationships that I have with my family, but I also think that life is lived in relationship. I should seek to develop relationships that help me understand myself and others. Whenever I speak about engaging in interfaith activities, I share an image of ‘The Cathedral’ by Rodin, and ask the audience to recreate the position of the hands. Almost without fail, people try to manipulate their hands into the shape. Gradually someone will realize that unless they have two right hands it is impossible to do, and at that point they work with their neighbour to create the image. It isn’t a very subtle point: we face limitations when we try to experience life as individuals. There is a richness available in relationship to others, and this is nowhere more true than in interfaith experiences.

The richness of relationships that I have experienced through interfaith work can be described by the writings of Martin Buber, who describes two different lenses through which to view the world: I–it and I–Thou. Buber argues that a mindset of I–it represents a perspective of hierarchy where ‘I’ am at the center of reality experiencing the world and people as objects. In contrast, the I–Thou mindset is a perspective of personal relationship. “He is no longer He or She, limited by other Hes and Shes, a dot in the world grid of space and time, nor a condition that can be experienced and described, a loose bundle of named qualities. Neighbourless and seamless, he is You and fills the firmament.” The most important I–Thou relationship is with the Almighty, but we also have relationships with life in nature and life with other people. This is the approach that one must have and will develop through interfaith work, and with this approach to life, a person is able to encounter the world in all its goodness and find their place therein. Using the language of ‘I–Thou’ helps us begin to realize we are not in a relationship of power with other people, but of mutual friendship and love.

Recognizing that life is about personal (I–Thou) relationships, one of the most important aspects of this approach is how we understand ourselves. Socrates said, “know thyself,” and in interfaith activities it is important to know who we are and where we stand. Alasdair MacIntyre suggested that the way we respond to the claims of other traditions depends on who we are and how we understand ourselves, helping one have a strong basis for such engagement, and to recognize the purpose behind their involvement. If a person is Christian, for example, depending on how they view themselves, they may see engagement with Christians from other denominations as inter- or intra-faith. I have often suggested that a person should begin by studying and not neglecting their own faith. In this way a person is able to be their true and authentic selves and provide a backdrop for discussions.

That does not mean that interfaith work is about conversion. While religions the world over engage in such activities, conversion is not the purpose of interfaith engagement. If conversion is our purpose, then it may be that we do not listen to the ‘other,’ and are concerned about proving ourselves right and the other wrong. As such, we do not engage in an honest dialogue; rather, we see a power dynamic that could fail to see the value that faith brings to others’ lives.

In interfaith engagement we are not seeking to produce a syncretic religious identity where we pick and choose the bits of each tradition that we like. We may be inspired by others and their beliefs and practices, but we are not seeking some strange hybrid religion that reconciles two religions that make competing truth claims. Linked with this pick-n-mix approach is the idea that we are also not seeking ecumenism, or working together in a united effort. The differentiation between ecumenism and interfaith, I feel, is an important one. The idea of a hybrid faith would dissuade some people from engaging in interfaith activities.

The rule of interfaith engagement is neither to lose ourselves in favor of the other nor to create a hybrid. It is to hold ourselves while being able to hold and appreciate the truth found in other religions, admittedly a difficult aspect of interfaith engagement. People generally hold the beliefs they do because they feel they are the best way for them to live their lives. While there may be an acknowledgement that others may find different ways, there may be an underlying understanding that some of these beliefs are objectively true, and therefore other people may be ‘wrong’ in their approach. This is indicative of the ‘harmful mingling of blood’ that John Hull described earlier. In contrast, Geoff Teece¹ describes this unholy ground as “the space between us that constitutes holy ground, holiness being discovered through encounter.” Whenever people are in dialogue with the ‘other’ they are in a potentially transformative space where they can better understand others as well as themselves.

“How do we do this? First, when trying to understand another religion, you should ask the adherents of that religion and not its enemies. In interfaith dialogue we are not trying to prove people wrong—we are trying to understand them, how they live their lives, and the beliefs that underpin such. It is important to do so honestly, while extending the same understanding of the motivation of others. I have been told at different times that I don’t believe what I do, yet. I think I may be the best judge of what I believe. A Hindu student once explained to his teacher, a Hindu herself, that he believed in many different gods. Her response was that Hindus do not believe in many gods, but in one who has different manifestations. Despite his protestations, the teacher served as the gatekeeper of what she saw to be orthodoxy. It is important to recognise the diversity of approach within religions, as they may be described as ‘messy.’ Religion is a very personal matter. Being composed of individuals, religions are diverse, and this is even before we explore the formal diversity in the various traditions. This diversity is a positive aspect of religion and belief. A person’s religion is affected by their culture, background and their own understanding. Within the same religious tradition people will believe and behave differently. Understanding this will help us avoid the trap of assuming how a person believes or practices based on our previous experience of a person we once knew. Recognising that the same beliefs can lead to a different expression enables a person to begin to understand others.

In speaking with people of different beliefs, we need to be conscious of how the language that is used refers to the things that are said and the way they are said. The language we use reflects our understanding and respect for others. Much of our language in the West is filtered through a Christian lens, with Christian terms as the default. In news stories that refer to a Sikh Temple or a Sikh priest, why can we not use the words ‘Gurdwara’ or ‘granthi’? There is a responsibility to understand people on their own terms, and using terminology that is both respectful and authentic is a good place to start. It might mean asking for clarification about what something means, but that is the purpose of dialogue, to better understand.

Those engaging in interfaith work also need to consider that the language that is spoken may not be the same as that which is heard, despite assumptions that we have a shared vocabulary reflecting a shared understanding and agreement. We need to be clear about the language that we use; we can mean very different things while using the same term. When a Christian speaks of God their understanding is very different to Muslims, Hindus, Sikhs and others. We need to ensure that we are neither disingenuous nor speaking past one another. In interfaith discussions we should not leave others with the impression that we agree when we do not.

The maxim of many a parent the world over is, “It’s not what you’re saying, it’s how you say it.” This applies in the interfaith arena too. Sometimes we have a superior attitude, a paternalistic approach to those of other faiths. This may be because of a superiority in numbers, or a perceived superiority in belief and practice. We see this in the use of the term ‘major’ religion, meaning that others are minor or unimportant. Using language such as larger and smaller reframes the discussion. Similarly, if a person speaks condescendingly or dismissively, it can suggest that the dialogue is not honest or valued.

Krister Stendahl coined the phrase holy envy for appreciation of aspects of other traditions that may even lead to an envy that they are not part of ours. If there is truth in all religions, then it is possible to view such without discarding one’s own beliefs. We gain an appreciation of other people’s beliefs and practices, and may indeed develop our own understandings. I had a conversation with an elderly Jewish woman, asking her what she believed about life after death. She responded,

“I don’t really know; I’ve not thought about it. Let me go and ask the Rabbi.” When I followed up by asking why she followed the mitzvot, then, she answered, “It is the right thing to do, it is what I have been told to do.”

For this lady, the living of the tenets of her religion was what was important, not any belief that might have underpinned them, or the promise of any reward. In that moment I envied a faith that didn’t rely on any transactional relationship with the Almighty. It was just the right way to live.

Engaging with others in this way is potentially transformative. In genuine encounter with others people can develop understandings not previously considered, as they are open to learn from what they experience: “When our hearts and minds are properly focussed, our dialogues with one another, however impassioned they may be, become the means by which we lovingly help each other appreciate aspects of God’s work we might otherwise overlook or fail to understand.” A person cannot help being changed by engagement with others. The benefits of engagement are not just a greater understanding of others, but also a greater understanding of what it means for them.

Interfaith interactions between people firmly rooted in their own religious faith can open genuine dialogue between them. The dialogue becomes “open” when the exchange of ideas is honest, and each party is open to learning rather than acceptance. This means that people are open to the reformation of some of their religious practices or beliefs. For example, a Christian engaging with a Muslim about the purpose and practice of fasting and listening to what that person feels and experiences may enable them to evaluate their own attitude and motivations towards the law of the fast. Recognizing that other religions have light opens people to this type of transformative learning.

In this way, a person can be true to their beliefs while enabling those who do not share their faith to be true to theirs. There is a reciprocal paradigm that should be in place for both sides of the engagement. The honesty of such dialogue requires a “risk” from the participants, in the sense that they are sharing what is most sacred to them and being open to a transformation of their own beliefs. The third space can be “radical” and transformative at the same time in utilizing areas of convergence and divergence.

In such encounters people do not just discuss things of mutual agreement, but explore areas of difference as well as agreement. This can be done in a way that is respectful and open to learning. This is where some of the most fruitful discussions can emerge. As well as transforming belief and practice through convergence, when we have to consider why we don’t agree with certain things or share why we believe in things that others don’t, this can help settle our faith in a stronger position. As individuals and institutions continue in engagement, the points of convergence and divergence will develop, and ways the relationship can be deepened will become apparent. This engagement highlights the necessity of observing religions and religious practice at their best. It’s not a matter of ignoring the “worst” of other religions; rather we adopt a paradigm of engagement with other religions that incorporates the Golden Rule.

A person can learn much by listening to something that they disagree with and then considering why they disagree. Why do I believe X, while my friend believes Y? This reminds me of an experience I had with my friend Sara. When she discovered that I don’t drink alcohol or view pornography, she exclaimed, ‘You’d be a great Muslim—why aren’t you?’ I think there may be more to being a Muslim, but I responded that I believe that Jesus is the Son of God. Her response was, ‘Do you? Do you really?’ This caused me to reflect on and examine the beliefs that I held. In the midst of this exchange, we discussed that the greatest truth of Christianity is the greatest sin (shirk) of Islam, but we still had an insightful conversation that fostered understanding and helped us develop our own thinking and identity. Joseph Fielding McConkie once suggested the importance of recognising divergence when he said, “When we cease to be different, we cease to be.”

As we engage in interfaith work, we also help each other live our religion. I would suggest that a person is truly living their religion as they help others live their religion without fear of condemnation. As we consider those whose beliefs differ from ours, we can view them negatively or positively. There is so much division and hatred in the world today that an individual does not need to add to the cacophony of negativity. The vast majority of people are honest and genuine in their faith and are trying to live it in a way that helps them become better. When we assume good will in others, knowing our own good intentions, we predispose ourselves to cooperation and mutual support. This means that a person will speak on behalf of others. The first prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, Joseph Smith, suggested:

The Saints can testify whether I am willing to lay down my life for my brethren. If it has been demonstrated that I have been willing to die for a Mormon, I am bold to declare before Heaven that I am just as ready to die in defending the rights of a Presbyterian, a Baptist, or a good man of any other denomination; for the same principle which would trample upon the rights of the Latter-day Saints would trample upon the rights of the Roman Catholics, or of any other denominations who may be unpopular and too weak to defend themselves.

It is not enough for ‘us’ to have freedom of religion and belief; this same right must be afforded to all people, providing protections and freedoms under the law.. It is not just in ‘hard times’ that a person should advocate for rights, but also in the ‘easier’ times. Everyone in society needs to be protected. Just as Joseph Smith was as willing to die for a Catholic as for a Mormon, we should be willing to fight for the rights of others just as passionately as if those same rights were being denied us.

As a Latter-day Saint myself, I have come to realize that some of the challenges that I face are shared by others. Even if it were not so, we must speak up on behalf of the minority, especially if we are in the majority. An Hadith of the Prophet Muhammad suggests:

He is not a believer whose stomach is full while the neighbor to his side is starving.

This recalls an encounter I had on my doorstep with people collecting signatures on a petition against the building of a mosque in the local area. In many ways this did not affect me, but I felt it was important for me to stand up for the rights of Muslims in the same way I would hope people would stand up for me.

Whenever I speak or write about the importance of interfaith engagement, I think about the many friends I have developed over the years who have helped me understand the lived reality of their faith, and also the importance of my own. I think of Yusuf, Amjed, Kirsty, Lesley, Andrew, Joyce, Sukhbir, Mita, Daniel, Suresh, and many more who have taught me what it is to live as a Muslim, an Anglican, a Roman Catholic, someone who is non-religious, a Buddhist, a Sikh, a Hindu, a Jew, and a Jain in the twenty-first century. These friendships have helped me understand and appreciate the ‘other.’ Most especially, I am a better person for the friendships we share. I have become better able to listen and to understand; I can recognise my Heavenly Father’s love for all people; I can understand what it is to live as a disciple of Christ in a world of diversity. Christ forbade none to come to him; in seeking to emulate the Master, I have the same responsibility. Those imperfect and divisive feelings that we might be tempted to express have no place in seeking union and communion with all people.

James is Associate Professor of Religious Education at the University of Chester, UK. He is the author of many books on various religious traditions and religious education.

1. Geoff Teece, “In Defence of Theme Teaching in RE,” Westhill Occasional Paper 2 (University of Birmingham, 1993), 8.