Jewish Leadership: Why Do We Need Interfaith?

Hello, friends.

This week I attended an excellent Jewish leadership conference as part of the MASA program. MASA provides a lot of funding for young Jews to come to Israel from abroad--including people doing programs like mine. In total, there were 200 young people at the conference from all around the world--about half are Americans, a quarter are from Russia or countries that were formerly part of the USSR, and a quarter are from other places (Europe, South America, etc.).

This week was very rewarding. I find group settings like this can be hit or miss--are the people going to be truly thoughtful and engaged? Will the sessions be educational or boring? Five days is a long time to spend together if things do not mesh--but the sessions were largely thought-provoking, the people were friendly, and it was a worthwhile experience.

I was also very grateful that the conference organizers selected me as one of seven people to present a ten-minute speech to about 170 of the participants. Of course, when they asked for proposals, I made mine all about interfaith. I gave my speech on Tuesday night, entitled, "Jewish Leadership: Why Do We Need Interfaith?"

I was so happy that people really seemed to connect with my push to more interfaith outreach. It was very moving that after all the speeches ended, a number of participants lined up to discuss the topic further with me. These were people that agreed with my sentiments, or came from mixed-faith families themselves, and more. We continued the conversation on interfaith for a while. Throughout the rest of the conference, people continued to approach me to say that the speech had had an impact on them.

They took a video of the speeches, so I wanted to share mine here for those interested in hearing a bit more about my perspective on the necessity of interfaith dialogue. Just scroll down the page a bit until you see, "Welcome to the Masa-GLI Global Leadership Summit November 2016 TED Talks - Part 2." If you drag the viewer to the time of 14:00, you'll see me: Allyson's MASA Speech

Please feel free to offer helpful critiques if you have some ideas for topics I should have included in the speech, if you see any weak parts of the presentation, etc. I would love to hear ways that I can make my personal narrative more effective, so that it can hopefully be a more powerful tool to encourage others to participate in interfaith dialogue. I am so happy after this week, and really very motivated to continue to share my experiences in interfaith more widely.

Now go out and love one another.

<3,
Allyson

Getting Stopped by Border Police in Jerusalem

Hello, friends.

I have now been living here in Jerusalem for four weeks. One of my friends in Germany made the very astute comment back in August that this is going to be a big year for me--a year to grow, a year to learn, a year to maybe shift some of my perspectives, and maybe also to feel more solidly about others.

It is hard to believe how much has already happened in just four weeks--I could tell you about the incredibly thoughtful and passionate people I have met at my yeshiva (and they truly are), or about the controversy that came up the second week of classes (our school decided to take us all away for a weekend, but neglected to mention until just a few days before that we would be going to a settlement across the Green Line for this trip), or about any of the numerous vital interfaith/intercultural experiences I have already been privileged enough to have (praying with Christians, Jews, and Muslims on a roof! Crossing through a checkpoint alone!). But detailing everything that has happened in the past four weeks would take much too long.

Instead, I want to share one small incident that happened that ad an affect on me:

Two weeks ago, I was honored to be invited to a Israeli/Jewish-Palestinian type of "friendship" meeting. It is part of the Interfaith Encounter Association, a group that tries to build relationships between people of different religions on a grassroots level here in Israel and Palestine (you can read more about IEA here). So in different neighborhoods, people get together regularly to discuss various topics.

So this particular Thursday night, I went to an office in downtown Jerusalem. There, five of us Jews (some Israelis, some Americans) met with three Palestinian men. The topic of this particular meeting was Jewish fast days--so the others spent an hour explaining, in Hebrew (which they translated a bit for me), Yom Kippur and Tisha B'Av to these gentlemen--all of whom are residents of Israel. It was a simple meeting, but clearly part of an important trend of people sharing their stories, religions, and cultures with each other.

After the meeting, these gentlemen offered to walk me up the main shopping street to my bus. I got the sense they felt they wanted to walk me to my bus (less than a five-minute walk) to be gentlemen. We continued our conversations--using the English they know, they told me about their families, their jobs, all normal things.

All of a sudden, there were three uniformed Israelis around us; I've been told they were border police. One of the women (and I should note, these police are young people around my age--mid-twenties, if not younger) asked me if I knew the men. It was an interesting moment--I had to decide what to say; I said "yes." Even though I had just met these men an hour earlier, I had met them at a friendship meeting, where they had sat and listened to us explain Yom Kippur for an hour. It seemed right to say that I knew them. I told the young border policewoman this, even explaining that we had just come from a peace/friendship meeting.

While she seemed to accept this, one of the other policemen did not. He was very businesslike--"Stand over here," he said to me stiffly, indicating a spot away from the two men they were questioning heavily. I moved to the side, surprised to find myself so extremely frustrated, while they continued to question the young men. They even called in two of the men's ID numbers on walkie talkies during this. Even though I was fuming, I realized that getting involved would not help the situation at all.

When the border police finished their questioning and let us continue walking, I turned to the men and made an annoyed sound at what had happened. They explained that it happens to them regularly.

Now, I certainly understand the need for security. The past few weeks have seen a rise in Palestinian/Arab stabbings of people in downtown Jerusalem--believe me, I want everyone to be safe.
But none of this changes the fact that I felt sad for these men--sad that their whole lives living in this country they are faced with suspicion and fear, questioned regularly, having to be extra careful. Several people have likened it to the so-called "stop and frisk" policy in New York, during which African American and Latino people seem to be stopped more often than white people to be searched for weapons/contraband. They are under suspicion back at home, just as Arabs are under suspicion here in Jerusalem/Israel. We can point the finger of blame in countless directions for this police stop I was a part of here in Jerusalem (is it the fault of the Israeli government of today? the few Arab people who carry out stabbings? the fighters on both sides of the 1948 war? all or none of the above?), but in the end, it all just makes me so sad.

I hope I manage to find meaningful ways to engage with this and other interfaith/intercultural issues while I am here. During my year here I will be interning with an interfaith organization, and I have already been to a number of great events that show just how many people here in Jerusalem want to find ways to work towards peace, but I just hope that it is enough to have some kind of an impact. I am here to learn, but I am also here to make positive change. It should be an interesting year ahead!

Now go out and love one another.

<3,
Allyson

Update: Time for Another Move Abroad

Hello, friends.

For those who have known me for some time, you know that I like to move abroad--start over in a brand new place, have new adventures, make new friends, and hopefully learn more so that I can make a difference.

So for those who do not know, that time has come again. On September 2nd, I am moving to Jerusalem, Israel for an academic year.

I left my position working with different religious groups helping Syrian refugees back in the spring in preparation for this move. I will be in Jerusalem (the more religious of Israel's two major cities, the more secular one being Tel Aviv) studying Jewish Text and Conflict Resolution as a Conflict Resolution Fellow at a beit midrash ("house of learning"--not quite a university, but a type of school). I will hopefully have the opportunity to intern with an interfaith organization in Israel outside of my studies, as well as interact with a number of friends living in Israel over the next few months. I have been spending much of the past three months traveling here and abroad, emptying my apartment in New York, and, most recently, learning Hebrew.

I have friends from many different faiths and cultures, and I am hopeful that this next year will bring a myriad of valuable experiences. I suspect I will partner with some of these colleagues on various interfaith projects throughout my time in Israel, and I hope to make it a very meaningful year. If anyone makes it over to Israel from September-May and is interested in learning more about the interfaith initiatives happening over there, please feel free to reach out.

My one note is that while it is clear that the main Israeli-Palestinian conflict is not solely based on religion, and so my role in trying to build peaceful initiatives there may be limited, I am hopeful that I will contribute what I can--and learn even more. Please wish me luck/pray for me/send some good karma my way, as my moving date--and new adventure--rapidly approaches.

Now go out and love one another.

<3,
Allyson

The Power of Prayer

Hello, friends.

How often have you heard someone say, "I'll pray for you"? Maybe you were sick, or having a hard time, or had recently lost a loved one, and someone said, "I'll pray for you." One of the best Christmas movies ever made, It's a Wonderful Life, starts with a lot of people praying for the main character, who is going through a personal crisis. Now, in that movie a literal angel is sent down from above to help him. But what about in real life? Does anything really come of it?

There are definitely people who believe in the so-called "power of prayer"--that by praying to the Divine (or a saint, or another religious figure), something changes that can help the person improve. I figure it's at the very least like sending out good energy into the universe--it lets someone know they're in my thoughts, that I want to help if possible, and just sends more positive vibes out into the world. This is generally my goal, and goodness knows we need more good energy out there.

Now, I've heard the phrase "I'll pray for you" uttered a number of times--and I've said it myself to people, though I am careful to whom I say it. Why? And how is this an interfaith issue?

Well, perhaps we can say in some way it is a minor interfaith issue. My hope would be that anyone--whether religious, secular, atheist, agnostic, spiritual, or something else--would accept the phrase for what it means (I interpret it as, "I care about you and want you to get to a better physical/mental place"), and not be offended. That said, I do try to think about the recipient of the sentiment when I give it. Sometimes I might say, "I'll send positive thoughts your way" to one of my less religious friends, for example. But hopefully no one would ever be offended by a well-intentioned phrase.

We can easily compare this to the "Merry Christmas" issue that came up a few years back, an issue that is ongoing. For those who are not aware, there was an issue some years back in the U.S. in which around the December holidays, people in stores were wishing customers a, "Merry Christmas," and some folks who were not Christian and so did not celebrate the holiday were offended by this.

My take on the Christmas topic has always been nuanced--I am not going to be annoyed by anyone wishing me well; we need more positivity in the world. So if you want to wish me, a Jewish woman, a "Merry Christmas" (or Ramadan mubarak, or Happy Kwanzaa, or whatever), please do so, and do so loudly and with a big smile (I dig enthusiasm).

However, on the other hand, as someone who is conscious and respectful of the diversity in the world, unless I saw a pretty clear indication of someone's faith practice (a yamulke, for example), I would usually choose a more generic phrase when speaking to a stranger around a holiday time. Not to minimize anything about my holiday or theirs, but because I want to try to create a world in which more people feel accepted and acknowledged for being who they are, without a repeated reminder that they may be in the minority where they live.

What do you think? Should we keep it generic to make more people feel included? Or should we not modify our religious inclinations to suit others?

I write this post because these past months have been challenging ones in a lot of ways, for myself and some of my closest friends, many dealing with either life challenges, health issues, or mental health issues (or some combination of these). So I've heard or said the phrase, "I'll pray for you" a few extra times in my life recently, and I wanted to share the sentiment with all of you.

So I ask, if you're willing--please pray for me, I'll pray for you.

Now go out and love one another.

<3,
Allyson

Interfaith Dialogue vs. Social Action

Dear friends,

Hello! I want to have a short exploratory session about how we go about interfaith relations. I use this big term ("interfaith relations") a lot, right? Or the hashtag, #interfaithallthetime. But what does it really mean?

Particularly in the last few months, a type of division in thinking about interfaith has established itself in my mind. It is the argument of whether interfaith dialogue just for the sake of dialogue--for example, getting a group of Christian and Muslim college students in a room to discuss something like food traditions--is worthwhile. Whether the discussion itself has value. The discussion can be about theology, practice, culture, or any other of a myriad of topics. It can mostly be a meeting to eat a meal together with no set topic. It can be an activity--like going to a mosque together as an interfaith group (see: things I did last week. A topic for another time). There are a handful of organizations that focus on this. For example, I recently attended a meeting of a group called the Sisterhood of Salaam Shalom. It operates on a chapter basis, so a group of women comes together in a city or town and decide to meet regularly. This is a group in the U.S. that brings Muslim and Jewish women together to be friends and share in life, somewhat informally, with the main goal of building "sisterhood." It is a very interesting concept, and seems successful. Now, many women in the U.S. can personally stand up against antisemitism or Islamophobia because they personally know women from the other faith; it is really amazing. I am not saying they do not sometimes work on social action projects together, I am just saying that their main goal is not the second step as much as that first step--dialogue between people of different faiths.

Then, there are individuals and groups that say no, this is not enough. Sure, bringing together a group of rabbis and imams to learn Scripture together (for example) is great and meaningful--for the people in the room. Whether the impact is felt beyond those directly involved in the process can be tough to tell. Folks in this camp often argue that interfaith coalition building has to be done for a purpose--to make a difference in the sense of working together on a social action project. For example, perhaps bringing together local Hindu and Sikh folks to fight poverty in their neighborhood. Some feel that the only value in interfaith is in this project work.

The problem I see with focusing only on this second one (i.e. the focus of interfaith should be social action) is that sometimes then the valuable (as I see it) dialogue can be lost. We can become so focused on saving the world for the second project--for example, eradicating hunger in our city--that we forget about the value of the interaction between peoples of different faiths. And I do not just mean accidental interactions--I mean intentional interaction, discussing similarities, discussing differences., looking at religious texts, or religious practices, and not being afraid to confront these. It frequently takes time and a long process of building respect, but it is very important and rewarding.

In this same vein, I see great value in talking about our religious (or non-religious) differences. I know many people like to focus on the similarities between difference faiths, and it is great. Yes, many faiths preach helping the poor, helping the stranger, etc. and this is an excellent point to make. But I worry that sometimes those who perhaps do not (over-) think about this as much as I do might subconsciously be ignoring the very real differences between religions. If we make the argument that today to some extent the biggest religious "adversaries" that the world has set up is Jews vs. Muslims (as fueled by the conflict Israel vs. Palestine), then a surface-level interfaith conversation for me would be one that says, "Look at the similarities between kosher and halal food practices. People say we should hate each other, but he have so much in common in our history and traditions." This is enormously important, certainly, but for me, the conversation should not start there. The conversation should not stop at laughing at the similarity between the words "ketubah" (a traditional Jewish wedding contract) and "kitab" (a Muslim engagement/wedding contract). Because there is value in the difference. Why do Muslims pray five times a day? Why do Mormon folks wear a special garment under their clothing? Why do some Sikhs wear turbans? These are just some easy-to-see differences between some of the major world faiths, and being willing to open oneself up in a potentially scary and painful way can lead to really important and fruitful discussions.

I am planning to go on Birthright* in May, and I had my eligibility interview today. This is really just a five-minute discussion about my background, to make sure I am both Jewish and have answered everything honestly in my application. So of course they asked about whether I have been to Israel--which I have, once, with a mostly Christian group of folks (lots of Catholic mass, all the time!). But as I explained, my life, working with people of different faiths, only adds value to my own life and religious practice. I mean, we all know by now how abnormally excited I get when meeting people from different faiths--you should see me around Mormon folks, my joy is a little ridiculous--but there really is a value in hearing about the difference. We learn so much about what we believe, so much of what we hold dear, when we have that challenged by a new way of thinking. And if we stick with what we believed--and not out of stubbornness or blind acceptance, but out of a genuine and deeper understanding of it after the encounter--then that is an amazing thing to come from dialogue.

So you may guess that I fall more into the first camp above: interfaith dialogue is extremely valuable, merely for the sake of dialogue. I think that while it may only seem to affect the people in the room, those people then take those experiences and share them, use them to guide their own interactions with other people, and so a type of grassroots ripple effect takes place. This is not to say I don't think the second step, the social action part, should not happen--it is also great and valuable. I just think something equally valuable is lost if we skip over the dialogue. If we bring together that group of Christian and Muslim college students to pass out food to the homeless it is great, but if we don't also lead them in conversation about their faiths, we are glossing over both key aspects of their own lives, and key aspects of why they want to feed the homeless in the first place. Plus, my passion lies very firmly in the first camp. If I could spend all of my time meeting with people of different faiths, asking them questions, and helping facilitate them asking each other questions, I would be an extra happy person.

So what do you think? Is there value just in the dialogue? Or do we need the next step of social action to make the exchange worthwhile? Please leave a comment with your thoughts!

Now, as always, go out and love one another.

<3,
Allyson
---
*For those who are unaware, the Birthright trip is an interesting set up that the Jewish community put together some time ago that offers young Jews (ages 18-26) a free ten-day trip to Israel. The trip has many goals--not the least of which is creating a sense of connection in young Jews to the state of Israel...and to encourage young Jews to marry other Jews--and is somewhat of a staple among today's young Jews. I have not yet been on this trip, for a variety of reasons, but intend to go in May.

Interfaith and Finding New Friends in Morocco

Hello, friends.

A new year, a lot of changes in my thinking--it has been quite a start to 2016. Even though it has taken me severely too long to share my thoughts on an important trip I took in December, I thought it was still relevant to share my thoughts since it was such an important interfaith and intercultural experience.

But first, I would like to wish all a belated Happy Valentine's Day. Let's all spread some more love out there--as much as we possibly can.

So, back to the topic at hand. Some of you may have known that in mid-December I headed off to Rabat, the capital of Morocco for a five-day interfaith conference with 100 young people, ages 18-35, representing 74 countries and a number of religions. Can you imagine? That many young people, from so many amazing and diverse places, who are all passionate about interfaith, gathering in one place to live and learn together. If it sounds magical, it kind of was. The program is called ACWAY, which stands for "A Common Word Among the Youth." (You can read more about the program here: acway.org) It is based off an earlier initiative that started in 2007, which was a letter signed by many Muslim leaders addressed to people of the Christian faith, advocating peace between the two religions. My program, ACWAY, expanded this idea specifically to youth, and to members of many religions and those who do not follow a religion.

The ACWAY conference in mid-December was my first time in Africa--and my first time in a predominantly Muslim country. I have never been to a conference quite like this before. We were together almost all day for five days, and left Rabat truly caring about each other more than I would have thought possible. Maybe it was because we were all around the same age and so could understand each other, maybe it was the fact that we all truly hold a passion for interfaith and intercultural relations, or maybe it was just something special about this group, but it was a truly moving experience.

In this photo we have Christian, Jewish, Muslim, and Sikh friends celebrating the Jewish holiday of Hanukkah

(in the lobby of our hotel in Morocco)

While it was meant to be an interfaith conference specifically, there was surprisingly less discussion of religion during the organized sessions than I would have imagined (though we did that on our own). So what was really critical for my own development was the intercultural aspect. To hear about folks from Africa, or the Middle East, or Eastern Europe, or really everywhere, all of whom had moving, and sometimes tragic, stories to share was an amazing and humbling experience. Their willingness to share these stories, really the fact that all of us were willing to share so openly and so quickly with near-strangers, is what really made the conference a success. I learned about my new friends who had fled war, or who had had loved ones die in conflict. Even as I shared my own interfaith experiences and background, I could not help but feel so fortunate to have never had to live through such real danger and conflict. It was very inspiring to see how these young folks persevered through and beyond such circumstances.

Even while we did not focus on religion as explicitly as we expected, I still learned quite a bit more about Islam from my new friends. Despite being so involved in interfaith relations, I previously had very few close personal contacts who practice the Muslim faith, so this was critically important for my own religious understanding. In Morocco I was able to not only meet and befriend many adherents of this religion, but also see how Muslim practice can differ based on the culture and country of its adherents. We talked about physical contact between the genders, drinking alcohol, polygamy (I did not realize just how much this is done in practice...), and so much more. Even in moments of levity (a group of 17 of us dancing the final night in a club at the bottom of a ship) we were still having intense discussions (no, really, I promise, most Jews do drink alcohol). Discussions subsequent to the conference have only helped me learn even more about Islam and other cultures.

At dinner one night in Morocco with some new friends

So now the idea is that we will all run two interfaith/intercultural projects in our home communities in the six months following the conference. I have been working on some preliminary thoughts, but if anyone has a stroke of brilliance about interfaith-type projects, please feel free to share in the comments.

Now go out and love one another.

<3,
Allyson

ACWAY is a project of Right Start Foundation International, generously supported by KAICIID Dialogue Centre.