7 THE POWER OF HOPE Racelle Weiman

“Hope is the pillar of the world.” This African proverb was taped to my laptop by my daughter and has become my personal maxim. At a recent interview in Indonesia, a reporter asked me, “Are you a messenger of peace?” I instinctively replied, “I prefer to see myself as a messenger of hope.” In a world after the Shoah (Holocaust) that is full of infinite reasons for despair, I have found rays of hope. One of the places hope exists is where there are pockets of authentic dialogue between peoples, cultures, and religions. My life story has brought me to a deep commitment to the practice of interreligious dialogue. Dialogue with integrity, when under- standing and learning are at their best, is evidence of “hope in action.” I believe it has meaning and purpose for the twenty-first century.

Asking the Right Questions

Initially, I found myself drawn to the dialogue table in order to find answers to the questions that my high school students in Israel were rais- ing in the late 1970s. At that time I was teaching courses in Jewish Studies in the Israeli public school system. Discussions about faith would arise during the classes on history, sacred texts, and ethics. The teenagers were justly outraged at the vicious Antisemitism and violence of the Shoah. The shadow of the murdered 1,500,000 Jewish children remains unfath- omable and even unforgivable. These surviving Jewish youth were now threatened: The Shoah stole God from this generation by robbing them of their faith. They claimed that they were “broges” with God. “Broges” is a deeply descriptive word that means, “I am so angry with you, I don’t want to talk to you.” My students posed the recurring question not if God exists post-Shoah, but what kind of God exists? Who wants to engage with a God who seems so remote from human suffering? Troubled, I reflected on this recurring statement of belief, which is a philosophically compelling

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perspective. Clearly there is an “I” (the Jewish child) and “Thou” (God); this concept is unmistakably theistic and deeply personal. The root of this anger is the deep disappointment with God and the fear that the world might not be redeemable. Though they cared deeply about the covenant between God and the Jewish People, they were full of pain and mistrust, feeling that God did not honor that covenant.

Their angry disappointment had to be taken seriously. Though my own personal faith in God was unwavering, I knew that I must search for some version of conflict-resolution between God and the Jewish youth of today. I had an obligation to seek answers to their difficult and uncomfortable questions. I was reminded of Psalm 127: “Children are God’s heritage and His reward to us.” With what kind of world have we rewarded them?

An unexpected and peculiar change of direction happened in my quest. The preeminent Holocaust scholar at the time, Yehuda Bauer at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, dismissed my questions. Bauer’s words still echo in my ears, “The Holocaust is an historical event. We can tell you where it happened, who was involved, what happened, when it happened, how it happened. But ‘why men do evil’ and ‘where was God’ are not historical questions—-for that you will have to go elsewhere.” I was shocked that I was turned away, but even more distressed at his advice: Was there no place in Israel, or at least among fellow Jews, to study these questions? Bauer had directed me to go into self-imposed exile to study with Christian scholars—most notably Franklin Littell at Temple Univer- sity in Philadelphia. How would a Jew find answers about restoring Jewish faith in God by studying with Christians? It seemed incongruous, even blasphemous.

As I began my graduate studies in the Department of Religion at Temple University in 1979,1 soon realized that I was part of interreligious dialogue in its most vibrant state and was presented with extraordinary opportunities to learn from the finest academics in this field. They encour- aged me to ask the questions that my young students asked and then consid- ered them with an honesty that was breathtaking. Some of these questions were later addressed in Long Night’s Journey into Day (A. Roy Eckardt and Alice Eckardt, 1983). I was privileged to study with the pioneers in the field of Christian-Jewish relations: Franklin Littell, Roy Eckardt, Paul van Buren, Gerard Sloyan, and Leonard Swidler. They introduced me to Rabbi Yitz Greenberg and other independent Jewish thinkers. These were golden years of Jewish-Christian dialogue at Temple University: Gradu- ate students joined the faculty and traveled across Germany to hold the first Jewish-Christian dialogues among university theology departments post-World War II; participation in formation and critique of national and

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international church documents and declarations about Jewish-Christian understanding; analysis of the Oberammergau Passion Play to purge Anti- semitism from its scripts; evaluation and recommendations for religious and secular textbooks reflecting the spirit of Vatican II.

It turned out that Bauer was right. I saw Christian repentance, trans- formation, and change. I witnessed individual Christians take up with dili- gence the theological and moral questions of the “teaching of contempt” of Judaism. I observed them labor alongside Jewish colleagues, wrestling with the issues of faith in a post-Shoah world, often ignored and ostracized by their own churches. I saw God’s covenant living through their coura- geous actions. I was privileged to see Jewish and Christian scholars honor and trust one another. I believe that this is what Rabbi Harold Schulweiss must have meant when he said that the Divine Presence resides, not in you or me, but in the space between you and me.

Weaving Hope into Dialogue

In order to facilitate the Divine Presence in filling the void between and among us, we require the essential ingredient of hope. Authentic inter- religious dialogue is “hope in action.” Religiously guided and grounded people, who are open to encounter people of other religious worldviews as partners in dialogue, create a movement toward a hopeful, brighter light. In Proverbs 20:27 it is written, “The human soul is the candle of God, search- ing the inner chambers of our being.” Real interreligious dialogue begins deep inside of ourselves, because we know the effort is worth it. Hope is necessary for us to believe that the intense work of dialogue has value in this world. Vaclav Havel, the dissident playwright who became President of the Czech Republic, wrote, “Hope, in the deep and powerful sense of the word, is the ability to work for something because it is good, not just because it stands a chance to succeed… .It is not the same as optimism; it is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something makes sense regardless of how it turns out.”

Hope requires action. “Dialogue” is not real unless it involves intense action: a generosity of spirit, open communication, and the formation of relationships. Often this evokes courageous acts and creative responses. In Jewish mysticism there is a belief that fragments of light are scattered throughout the universe, to be gathered up. Dialogue is a way to weave these sparks of light that come from a common ground: devotion to God and God’s Creation. It is critical that we are aware and mindful that we weave together relationships to establish understanding, to respond to

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God and to our environment. In Hebrew the word for hope is “tikvah.” Its root source means to “intertwine strands together” or “connecting lines.” Intertwining and connecting is active work, not passive. “Hatikvah” (The Hope) is the song written by Naftali Herz Imber in 1878 upon his arrival at his new home in the Land of Israel. Now the national anthem of the state of Israel, it is a call to action to heal the Jewish People and the world and to reach a time of all hopes fulfilled.

Hope is the enemy of fear. The beloved Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav used to say, “The whole world is a very narrow bridge. The most important thing is not to be afraid at all.” Hope ignites the courage to overcome fear, to believe in humanity, to attempt new directions, and to motivate change. Hope is the part of faith that determines that your actions are significant, that your voice can have an impact, despite the odds. When the Nazis sent trains to deport the 48,000 Jews of Bulgaria, Bishop Cyril of the Bulgar- ian Orthodox Church threatened to lie on the railroad tracks. He joined the rounded-up Jews of Plovdiv and, in front of the local police, loudly quoted from the Book of Ruth, “Wherever you go, I will go.” In Sofia, Bishop Stephen declared that “he would act henceforth according to his conscience as a minister of Christ.” He sent a delegation with a warning to King Boris III saying, “Your deeds are watched by God.” Boris called off all the deportations; the Jews of Bulgaria were saved. The bishops were recognized posthumously with the medal of “the righteous among the nations” in a moving ceremony in March, 2002, at Yad VaShem in Israel. Concurrently, in the U.S.A. we held a series of major events celebrating the rescue of the Jews of Bulgaria by honoring a delegation from Bulgaria led by the current Bishop of Sofia and Prince Boris IV, grandson of King Boris III. Research bore out that it was the positive relationship between the Bulgarian Orthodox Church and the Jewish community pre-World War II that directly influenced their proactive support. Their heroism is an inspiration and model for interreligious dialogue.

Hope overcame fear when the religious communities in Macedonia accepted the 2002 invitation of President Boris Trajkovski to a high- powered International Scholars’ Trialogue. I had the opportunity to partic- ipate as a Jewish representative at the conference led by Leonard Swidler and Paul Mojzes, editors of the Journal of Ecumenical Studies. I personally witnessed effective interreligious dialogue applied in peacemaking and in the prevention of violence in conflict zones. With skill and experience, the leadership guided the community in “Confidence Building between the Churches and Religious Communities through Dialogue.” They gathered a whole array of local religious leaders who became part of good gover- nance in the region. In the former Yugoslavia, the domino effect followed

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the religious/ethnic violence in Bosnia and Kosovo and was a real threat. Macedonia needed the ground prepared for interreligious dialogue to occur in a circle of both necessity and trust. The impressive international array of scholars provided this safety net, enabling local religious leaders to take courageous moral stands and to invoke a moral high ground for the future. Reluctance turned into enthusiastic participation from a sector often left out by the political hierarchy. As recently as 2007, they have renewed this commitment to seek cooperation and dialogue, and hope reigns.

Summoning God’s Presence in the Dialogue

Partners in interreligious dialogue would intuitively answer the follow- ing question the same way the rabbis did in the Talmud: “Why, when the world was created, did God create just one man and one woman?” The answer: “So that humankind understands that we all come from a single union, to teach us that we are all sisters and brothers, and that no one is greater than any other.” This concept of a common lineage, where every human being is created in the divine image, may be the first statement about equality, dignity, and worthiness of every human being. This acknowl- edges that God’s presence is illuminated in each individual. We find the ultimate understanding of the worth of each person in Psalm 8:3-5, “What is man that You are mindful of him, mortal man that You take note of him? You who have made him little less than the angels and adorned him with glory and majesty.” This core value may be the greatest gift the Jewish People have given to the world.

Interreligious dialogue juggles several conversations simultaneously. The first conversation is with God. God is sought not only in guidance and in presence but also to access the reflection of God in the soul of the partner, our “sibling.” The dialogue partner is also in constant conversa- tion within her own tradition, both in her head and in her own community. In addition, the dialogue itself is not only with the dialogue partner who stands face-to-face, but also with that partner’s own conversations with God, his tradition, and his own community. Parity is essential to even the playing field fairly. Inequities must be acknowledged, addressed, and given consideration. The quest for true interreligious dialogue is to learn, and such learning takes place with an open ear, followed by an open mind and heart.

Listening is key to dialogue, and silence is as precious and revealing as silent prayer is during communal worship. Learning from a face-to- face partner reveals the possibility to enter and understand a living reli-

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gious perspective and to stand in awe of both the rich variety and conver- gence that comes from differing religious perspectives. The hope is that each partner will explore critically one’s own perspective, tradition, and community, as well as see oneself as reflected in the eyes of one’s dialogue partner. This exploration and reflection is especially important for part- ners who identify a shared historical and social context. Exploring the Muslim-Hindu relationship is more urgent for a Muslim in India than for a Muslim in Tunisia. For Judaism, there are unquestionably critical issues in common with Christianity and Islam, as we share deeply intertwined narratives and histories, as well as a concern for future understandings and shared fates.

Interreligious dialogue should be approached with hope and sincer- ity, as well as with a deep thirst for learning. In the Jewish tradition, this perspective is embodied through the asking of questions. Children are encouraged to ask questions, and answers to questions often come with an illustration or a story. Personal narrative allows us to encounter others’ perspectives as they reveal their most burning issues. I gain insight into the lives and hearts of others by opening up to the cultural, literary, and social worlds of others. A “dialogue of the heart” happens when I read. Each Saturday on the Sabbath I curl up with a book, often an auto/biogra- phy, which serves as a partner in profound private dialogue. Currently, for example, I have chosen to focus on the narratives of Muslims who live in western society, such as Acts of Faith (Eboo Patel, 2007), The Trouble with Islam Today (Irshad Manji, 2006), What’s Right with Islam (Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf, 2004), and Infidel (Ayaan Hirsi Ali, 2005).

Stumbling over the Blocks

These decades later, it is an even greater responsibility to work in the field of interreligious dialogue, and I still feel privileged. It has elements of both a blessing and a curse. At its best, there is an overwhelming pride in this manifestation of human achievement, closeness to God, and a micro- scopic taste of the Messianic Age.

It sometimes happens that in the name of “interreligious dialogue” one can have a nauseating and debilitating experience under the guise of political correctness, which is often full of vanity, manipulation, competi- tion, and media hype, with no trust and no desire to listen. Interreligious dialogue often mirrors the process found in diplomacy. It is not the ideal, but it can be a useful model for recognizing and cultivating trust. The necessary tools and skills for effective and successful political relation-

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ships are brilliantly presented in Statecraft (Dennis Ross, 2007). Trust is the desired outcome that indicates dialogue done well.

In the political arena of conflict-resolution, politicians and governments can learn much by including religious leaders and scholars. In 1994,1 was chosen to join an international summer program at the Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy at Tufts University on the topic of Ethnic Conflict Resolution. My fellow students were in the fields of political science, public policy, or economics. I was the only person in the field of religion. They regarded me with suspicion, and my participation was challenged. I looked around the table where people were assembled from the former Yugoslavia, Northern Ireland, Middle East, Turkey, Sudan, and Rwanda. I asked if there were any of these regions in which religion was not a factor. They conceded that religion played a major role in the conflicts, but then the subject was avoided throughout the program. More than a dozen years later, after the break-up of the Soviet Union and the events of 9/11, now programs such as these often include a focus on Islam, but rarely on the rela­ tionship among religions and between religion and society. The awareness is not yet heightened enough to be inclusive. Until very recently, academic institutions and political bodies balked at including religions in the area of peace studies. Secular organizations are predisposed to think that religions are defined by the fundamentalists among them, and they also believe that conflicting “truths” are irreconcilable. After the Oslo Accords in 1994,1 recall many meetings that included religious leaders brought together in Israel from the branches of Christianity, Islam, and Judaism. There was such delight in speaking freely together about God-centered existence and scripture-focused lifestyles. The self-defined secularists were aghast.

Polarization and ignorance, along with false expectations, are the death blows of dialogue. There is also the perception and concern that the face of religion in contemporary society is equated with extremism, hate, and violence, even though the root causes of the conflicts are rarely religious in nature. Dialogue rarely advances beyond an annual visit to a neighbor’s house of worship or a shared holiday or event. As Jews, we have a long list gathered from an accumulation of negative experiences: fear of prejudice; concern about missionaries; vulnerability as a minority; fear of finding differences, fear of finding similarities; ignorance on both sides; and abandonment, once the going gets tough or if we “fall out of mode.” An example of abandonment is reflected in the disintegration of the National Conference of Christians and Jews, resulting in the loss of its strong and proud role in multiculturalism in America. I discovered exactly what “falling out of mode” entails, when I was asked to buy books on Judaism to send to a Muslim in Bangladesh so he could teach a class on

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the Abrahamic Faiths. I naively visited the bookshelves of the Barnes and Noble store affiliated with Temple University at the beginning of the 2008 school year. The shelves were loaded with titles on Christianity and Islam all across the spectrum. There was not one book on Judaism. Ironically, Jews and members of other minority religions realize and fear that, in a post-9/11 world, the understandable rush by Christians to engage Islam in dialogue will lead to neglecting or even sacrificing the hard-earned gains that once were celebrated in the Jewish-Christian relationship.

Healing a Fractured World

This world of ours is full of wonder and greatness. Science, medicine, and technology have made tremendous leaps and push us to seek solutions for the world’s problems—both those caused by humanity and those not in our hands. The religious personality must also continue to seek imaginative and courageous approaches to address the many existential, philosophical, and moral questions in our time. Dialogue is essential for religion to be relevant and to share in global conversation, generating positive outcomes that advance and unite humanity.

The future for religion lies in authentic interreligious dialogue that is global and inclusive. Religious minds must engage in the challeng- ing ideas about globalization such as those put forth in the international bestseller The World is Flat (Thomas Friedman, 2005). Interreligious dialogue is an effective methodology to respond to globalization and its impact on countries, societies, communities, and individuals. If reli- gious leadership becomes involved and adapts this new reality of a deep global engagement, it can have an important voice in social, economic, and political issues, making their impact on humanity relevant and acces- sible today. Cross-cultural, global perspectives that address issues such as human rights, hunger and disease, genocide, international business, and the environment would then include religion as a legitimate component. The “flattening of the world” prods Judaism, as well as the other Abraha- mic traditions, to seek dialogue with all of the world’s children of God, as an act of hope and as an imperative. “There are two ways to flatten the world; one is to use imagination to bring everyone up to the same level, and the other is to use your imagination to bring everyone down to the same level.”

The real warriors for interreligious dialogue do not lose sight of its goals and objectives. With awe and wonder, they continue to listen, learn, hope, and create partnerships to invite God’s presence. Lives full of the

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love of God reflect that love of God through acts of lovingkindness to other human beings, across a page, across the room, across the Internet, across the globe. The goal is to be in partnership with God, working toward a moral and ethical world, a place of compassion and justice. God empowers us to make mistakes and get it wrong. We fall, we learn, we are lifted up. “Creation is God’s unfinished symphony, and He has entrusted its completion to us” (To Heal a Fractured World [Rabbi Jonathan Sacks, 2005]). Does God have faith in us? This question is answered by the ques- tion: Do we have faith in ourselves? For the Jewish People, the objec- tive is to seek “Tikkun Olam” mending, repairing this broken world. The Talmudic dialogues of the rabbis advocated bringing shalem (wholeness, perfection) and shalom (peace) to the places where they do not yet exist. Rabbi Tarfon reminds us, “It is not for you to complete the work (of repair- ing the world), but you are not free to abstain from it.” And Rabbi Hillel taught, “In a place where there is an absence of humanity, there one must strive to be human.”

To be fully human, to be a “mensch” is to be most similar to God, to be close to holiness. Interreligious dialogue with integrity leads us to holi- ness. In the Reform prayer book of the High Holy Day services we find this prayer, woven together from different threads of our scriptures:

Blessed are you, O God, who teaches us to love our neighbor as ourselves…many are the ways of holiness, varied are its paths. There is holiness when nations meet to beat swords into plowshares, and when people of different backgrounds work together for the common good. There is holiness when we respect what divides us and empha- size what unites us, and when we are willing to be laughed at for what we believe in.

Questions for Reflection

1. What does the author mean by saying that the most essential ingredi- ent in interreligious dialogue is hope? What do you feel? What would interreligious dialogue look like without hope?

2. How might members of various religions jointly address the social, economic, and political problems facing our world today? How can inter- religious dialogue be applied to peacemaking and justice building?

3. Give specific examples of how interreligious dialogue has helped you develop critical thinking toward your own experience of faith and your faith tradition.

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4. The author proposes that interreligious dialogue should be approached with awe, hope, and a thirst for learning, in spite of the fear. What are the fears that are present in the interreligious encounter? Can you describe fear and discomfort you experienced or witnessed?

5. How did the experience of learning from Christian scholars grappling with religion’s role in the Shoah become a signal to the author that inter- religious dialogue is a valuable endeavor? Why was it so important to her? How can we approach historical and current events in interreligious dialogue?

6. How can interreligious dialogue play a role in globalization? What different arenas and settings can you envision the religious dialogue play- ing a positive role?

7. How can people address the perception that religions are polarizing and lead to extremism, hatred, and violence?

8. How would you describe the ultimate goal of interreligious dialogue for yourself? Do you believe that this goal reflects the core goal of your religion as well? What about the goals of other religions?

Suggestions for Action

A. Identify elements of your own religious tradition that promote respect for and openness to other traditions.

B. Describe the ultimate goal of interreligious dialogue for yourself. Do you believe that this goal reflects the core goal of your religion as well? Of all religions?

C. Create a dialogue program centered around the themes of hope and healing in each religion.

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