鈥楽alaam. Shalom. Peace.鈥� How US interfaith groups work for peace in a time of war.
| Pleasant Hill and Walnut Creek, Calif.
They call themselves sisters.
For the past five years, a group of 10 women 鈥� three Jewish, three Muslim, three 海角大神, and one Bah谩始铆 鈥� has been meeting monthly to listen to one another.
Mary Anne Winig says they always begin with an invitation to share. In the cozy and confidential comfort of one another鈥檚 homes, they bring a dish and a curiosity to learn more about one another鈥檚 faiths.
Why We Wrote This
A story focused onAt a time when many people default to demonizing those who believe differently than they do, U.S. interfaith groups are working to acknowledge shared humanity and ask, What can we learn from one another?
鈥淲e respect and listen and cherish each other鈥檚 friendship,鈥� says Ms. Winig, a member of Temple Isaiah who co-leads an interfaith women鈥檚 circle in Contra Costa County in California. 鈥淚鈥檝e learned so much from my Muslim sisters from just how much we share.鈥�
The topic might change, but the group鈥檚 focus has always been the same: to build understanding by listening to one another鈥檚 differences and finding common ground.
鈥淭he key is we just talk about it,鈥� says Nazli Sajjad, a member of the Islamic Center of Zahra. 鈥淲e have differences. We get mad also. But when they talk, we listen. And when we talk, they listen.鈥�
That鈥檚 true even of the war in Gaza. The Oct. 7 attack and subsequent war has killed tens of thousands of people and devastated land holy to multiple faiths. The shock waves sent fissures through interfaith groups across the United States. Many have disbanded. But some, like here in Contra Costa County, have redoubled their efforts to find common ground, even amid the destruction and death that all members interviewed say has caused them deep pain.
While interfaith coalitions might seem quaint in a time when fewer Americans attend church, experts in conflict resolution say the work of these interreligious groups is vital to reweaving the tattered fabric of society. At a time when many people default to demonizing those who believe differently than they do, talking to one another and acknowledging one another鈥檚 humanity can take courage.
鈥淚nterfaith coalitions are the pillars and cornerstones of communities, where people can talk across difference, and should be the refuge, haven, or place where some of the most important conversations can be had,鈥� says John Sarrouf, who has spent more than two decades mediating conflicts.
Mr. Sarrouf says interfaith groups are more than a canary in a coal mine. They also sit at an important crossroads: people鈥檚 deep values as lived in the places where they鈥檝e chosen to build their families.
鈥淐onflict tends to flatten people and make them singular in their identity as pro or con ... [on] an issue, when our lives are really multifaceted,鈥� says Mr. Sarrouf, co-executive director of Essential Partners in Cambridge, Massachusetts.
鈥淥ne of the most important things you can do is find those points of connection and live in to your common experiences,鈥� he adds. 鈥淒ialogue is our most important tool to stay open to one another.鈥�
In California, members of the women鈥檚 group say they recognize a strong message in all their faiths: to love thy neighbor as thyself.
鈥淚t鈥檚 really up to us to find the places of agreement ... to try to understand each other鈥檚 differences in the best way we can,鈥� says Carole, another member of the women鈥檚 circle who asked that her last name not be used.
The war in Gaza erupted one year ago, when Hamas militants killed about 1,200 Israeli citizens, including children, and took 250 hostages. Israel responded with a barrage that devastated the area, home to 2 million people. The Gaza Health Ministry estimates more than 41,000 people have been killed, many of them children.
They all firmly believe that 鈥渘o children should die. No parents should be sending their kids off to war. No parent should be begging to have their children released from terrible hostage conditions. On that we are 100% agreed,鈥� says Ms. Winig.
When disagreements do arise, members鈥� first instinct is to listen, and listen deeply. The 10 women talk a lot about their backgrounds and differences, but members interviewed all say their circle is grounded in the belief that a lot more connects us than divides us.
鈥淚f we can do it with sisterhood, we would like to spread that hope to other communities,鈥� says Ms. Winig.
Talking together as 鈥渁n act of faithfulness鈥�
In Contra Costa County, David Longhurst arranges sofas into a circle and fills in the gaps with folding chairs. The formation ensures all voices are heard equally.
鈥淲e, as humans, sometimes get misconceptions about other people when we don鈥檛 really understand them. But the best way to learn about someone is to ask them yourself,鈥� says Mr. Longhurst, chair of the governing board of the Interfaith Council of Contra Costa County, known as I4C. He traces four generations of his family through The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
The group acts as a peace-building organization and link among the more than 100 faith communities residing there. Over its 40-year existence, it has collaborated extensively on local solutions to community issues including building housing and addressing child welfare.
鈥淚deally, I4C is an opportunity for people just to get outside of that tension and just see each other as brothers and sisters and work side by side,鈥� says Mr. Longhurst, from the recreation room of the Hillcrest Congregational Church, where the council meets monthly.
After the Hamas attack Oct. 7, working side by side got harder. For many months, the shared pain was too much to put into words, Mr. Longhurst says. The ongoing war has devastated members of the Jewish and Muslim communities. Those interviewed say they cannot agree except for one thing: There鈥檚 no healing while the violence persists.
There is no way to avoid disagreement in honest conversation, says Rabbi Or Rose, director of the Miller Center for Interreligious Learning & Leadership at Hebrew College in Newton, Massachusetts.
However, 鈥淚f people are genuinely willing to engage in dignified dialogue 鈥� sharing their hopes and fears, joys, and pain 鈥� there is a humanizing effect that has the potential to open our hearts to those present and to others beyond the immediate circle of conversation,鈥� he says.
鈥淲hen these bridges are damaged, leaders need to be steadfast in the work of repair, which in Jewish parlance is the work of tikkun 鈥� 鈥榟ealing鈥� or 鈥榤ending,鈥欌�� says Rabbi Rose.
The bridge builders are not powerless, the rabbi continues.
Nor is talking just talking, says Dr. Lucinda Mosher, professor of interreligious studies at Hartford International University for Religion and Peace. 鈥淚 firmly believe that pretty much every religion has the potential to see dialogue, collaboration, across religious difference as an act of faithfulness.鈥�
Here in Contra Costa County, the Interfaith Council has continually met individually with Jewish and Muslim leaders to better understand their needs.
Individual members still volunteer in the community, packing hygiene kits for homeless people and donating goods and supplies for recently arrived refugees from Afghanistan. And when antisemitic leaflets saying 鈥淗itler was right鈥� were spread around the county in August, the council swiftly denounced them.
鈥淚t鈥檚 true we鈥檝e had our challenges of working together,鈥� says Mr. Longhurst. 鈥淏ut the hope is that we can be able to reconnect and start again. Not start over.鈥�
In September, at the first workshop in a monthly series, nearly two dozen members attended, representing faith communities of Presbyterian, Latter-day Saints, Bah谩始铆, 海角大神 Science, and others. One Jewish member was present. Missing was a Muslim voice. The absence was felt by more than one member.
In small groups, the question was posed, 鈥淚n this great polarization, as interfaith practitioners, what are we called to be?鈥� One person replied, 鈥淢aybe we鈥檙e called to be bridge builders.鈥�
鈥淚t鈥檚 not for the easy times; it鈥檚 for the hard times鈥�
Fellow I4C council member David Matz embraces paradox, the belief that two things can be simultaneously true.
鈥淔rom a Jewish perspective, there is a very long history of many people wanting to harm and kill us. That is true. But it鈥檚 also true that we鈥檙e in a situation where we鈥檙e doing a lot of harm to other people,鈥� says Dr. Matz, a psychologist. 鈥淚f you鈥檙e only hearing one side, it鈥檚 not the full story.鈥�
Although a dedicated member of Temple Isaiah, Dr. Matz says he鈥檚 often called antisemitic due to his concern for the Palestinians living in Gaza.
鈥淚 consider myself pro-Israel and pro-Palestinian at a time where that鈥檚 not really allowed by many communities,鈥� he says. While dialoguing cannot guarantee peace, he says, not dialoguing guarantees nothing will happen.
鈥淲hen the going gets tough, that鈥檚 what these sorts of things are made for. That鈥檚 what I4C is for. That鈥檚 why we need to have best practices of doing bridge building and dialogue. It鈥檚 not for the easy times; it鈥檚 for the hard times,鈥� says Dr. Matz.
Dr. Matz鈥檚 mother escaped Nazi Germany in 1940, losing many family members at Auschwitz. Raised in America with a bias against Germans, he says his perspective shifted in 2003. He was invited back to Germany by the children of Nazis to share his family鈥檚 story. While they were talking, his counterparts broke down in tears.
Dr. Matz found that hatred began to dissolve. The cathartic experience led him to reclaim his identity as a German Jew and his German citizenship.
鈥淵ou can鈥檛 help but feel empathy for that person in their suffering, despite the fact that they鈥檙e my historic enemy. That humanity starts to melt the barriers between us,鈥� he says.
A friendship built on trust, and samosas
Ms. Sajjad and Carole鈥檚 friendship began with a question. Five years ago, at a picnic hosted by the Interfaith Council of Contra Costa County, Carole asked, 鈥淒o you know how to make samosas?鈥�
鈥淥f course I know how to make samosas,鈥� replied Ms. Sajjad. 鈥淏ut I didn鈥檛 teach her; I just made them for her,鈥� she chuckles, recalling it later over the phone. 鈥淪o the next time, she came over to my house and we made samosas together. Since then, I have known her as my friend.鈥�
During the month of Ramadan, when Muslims observe a strict fast from dawn until sunset, the 10 sisters broke their fast together with a meal at the mosque. At Passover, the interfaith group of women had their own table at the synagogue.
鈥淧eace in Arabic is salaam. In Hebrew, it鈥檚 shalom. In English, it鈥檚 peace,鈥� says Ms. Winig. 鈥淲hen we email, we end with 鈥楽alaam. Shalom. Peace.鈥� Peace is an ever-present topic.鈥�
Staff writer Sophie Ungerleider contributed to this report.
