Rev. Dr. Jack Bomar launched United Church's Interfaith Ministry Fellowship this past Thursday, February 9th with a presentation on Native American Spirituality. He felt it appropriate as we are on land still under the spiritual stewardship of First Nations tribes. Among those presenting was my friend Billy who is in the Lodge (Sweat Lodge, where the Inipe ceremony of purification takes place) that I attend, and in which Pastor Jack recently participated. Pastor Jack's experience reconnected him in a profound way with his roots through his Cherokee grandmother in Tennessee.

​This will be followed by monthly presentations. March 9th the Baha'i Faith will be shared by Ms. Veronica Smalls, April 13th will feature a "Freedom Seder" conducted by Rabbi TZiPi Radonsky and in May Rev. Lori Hlaban will speak about Unitarian Universalism. There is much else in the works, to keep up to date please visit United Church's Facebook page.

The title is intended to be provocative and to raise some questions, such as “Why does he like Muslims?”, or “How many Muslims has he met?” or even “Why is he telling us that?” Good questions all. I have been involved in Interfaith work for over forty years and have developed some high level overviews and arguments for the value of Interfaith work, the intrinsic value of individual religions, even an elaborate defense of Swami Vivekananda’s statement in his keynote speech to the first Parliament of the World’s Religions in 1893 “We believe all religions are true”.  But I’ve been reading Eboo Patel’s book Interfaith Leadership lately and I have come to realize that my natural willingness to defend the rights of Muslims to practice their faith was arrived at slowly after much thought and debate, but my story (a very important word “story”) begins long before any real consideration of these issues, with my experience teaching English as a Second Language to Muslims at Utah State University in the mid-seventies, a point in time where I self-identified as an Atheist. Over the course of four or five years I taught several hundred students from all over the Middle East, Iran and parts of Africa. I found them generally warm, engaging and hospitable. It was twenty years later that I first heard the word “Jihad” even though some of those students were Palestinian or Libyan for instance and had very strong political opinions.

I was raised in the Mormon community of Bountiful, UT and attended that church until I was maybe twelve. The Latter Day Saints (LDS) as the Mormons are formally known, feel a strong kinship with the Jewish people, some going so far as to refer to themselves as “the other Chosen People”. Although I left the LDS faith while quite young I still had strong sympathies for the Jews and for the state of Israel. Because our community in Bountiful was so homogeneous I wasn’t really exposed to religious bigotry until I was in basic training in the military. One poor kid came down with a bad summer cold and as it turns out he was Jewish. It wasn’t long before I heard such phrases as “don't catch the Jew Germ” and other slurs. My natural response was to come to Bernard's aid and, as I had no arguments or positions to defend, I chose being his pal as a defense. I had him teach me Hava Nagila which I’d vaguely remembered from Fiddler on the Roof. We sang it at the top of our lungs… I’m not sure this really helped except I never heard “Jew Germ” again.

Fast forward to my years at Utah State and to the "Hub" where we gathered to drink coffee and smoke cigarettes. Surprisingly the most boisterous, laughing tables were occupied by Middle Easterners, which made me feel comfortable and drew me in enough to allow me to begin asking questions about the volatility and warfare in that region. I soon came to realize that things were much more complicated than I originally believed. We had a lot of political discussions, but also I heard a great many personal stories which made for deeper connections. I really was quite taken by the cultural warmth and hospitality of these primarily Arabic speaking Semitic peoples. I say that in contrast to the large presence of Iranians, or Persians as they generally called themselves, who were also Muslim, but Caucasian for the most part, and many were quick to remind you of that. The national/cultural presence of these Farsi speaking folks was not as lighthearted or welcoming, they sat by themselves for the most part, somewhat more distant and reserved. Although when I began to teach I made good friends among them as well. It turned out they had plenty of reasons to be cautious as they fell into two strong factions, the loyalists to the Shaw of Iran and the revolutionary forces which eventually toppled the Peacock Throne.

So back to the questions I intended to spark. I’ve known hundreds of Muslims, made many friends and have participated in weddings and other celebrations, and yes, "broke bread" with them and I stand by my claim that I’ve never met a Muslim that I didn’t like. Since they are just people, like many another, I count myself lucky in who I have met. Certainly I’ve read of Muslims who have committed atrocities and I’m pretty sure that friendship would not have been possible with them, for same may be said for partisans in Northern Ireland or guerrilla army members of FARC in Columbia, just to point toward a couple other troubled places. My liking the Muslims that I’ve known also probably has very little to do with their religion. When I think of Muslims my mind doesn’t instantly go the troubles, to religious tensions and ideological chasms, but rather to specific people I came to know and like. For that I count myself lucky as well. Perhaps this is true in large measure because we shared and listened to each other’s stories and made human connections. Eboo Patel has challenged me deeply in almost everything I’ve read of his and I’m grateful that he has, because it has inevitably grounded me in my existence as just one man with his own unique history and stance, thereby allowing me to operate as an advocate of Interfaith Harmony in a more authentic and effective manner one-on-one. Mr. Patel has made me more sensitive to a number of subtler issues, but especially he has reminded me that in conversations it comes down to you and me, to your story and mine.

To hate Muslims is as ridiculous and immature a stance as to hate Republicans or Democrats. Certainly long lists of points of disagreement are readily at hand, but no single point is in fact an article of faith for everyone who adopts a label, sports a bumper sticker, or wears a baseball cap with a logo. And in the case of hating Muslims, in any number cases it’s like hating Frenchmen, any element of being French may very well be an accident of birth, that is, one happened to be born in Marseilles or Paris and not a crucial aspect of their identity. That one is born in Egypt or Indonesia (the most populous Islamic nation) is similarly an accident of birth. The tightness with which one holds to the tenets of their faith is as variable as the human experience. Even to the devout, the particular ranking of these tenets also vary widely. Best to come at anyone with the understanding that they came to be in front of you by way of paths that you have no idea of. The more willing you are to hear their story and to share your own, the more likely it is that you will hear one another on religious and ideological issues.