Answers in Action

Freshman Kathryn Kemp explores the question, “Why Interfaith?” 

Since the time you first began to talk, questions have been inescapable.   Your first words may have included “mama, papa”, or some convoluted form of the family pet’s name, and surely your parents were in awe of how much you learned as well as making a point to tell every living relative.  But one day the show-stopping word came along that jumpstarted learning for the rest of your life:

“Why?”

While back then you were probably more concerned with the reasons why ice cream wasn’t a major food group rather than with the nature of the known universe, this pesky little question lies at the root of academic inquiry and the root of religious faith for countless people around the globe in our the search for ultimate explanations about the world around us.  Over four days in early October, I joined a group of fellow Davidson students as we abandoned the how’s and why’s of academics and instead dove into the realm of religion, faith, and ultimate questions.  Through visiting the various houses of worship in Washington, DC, I gained a renewed respect for the ways that all religious faith traditions provide not only an avenue for answers but a sense of connection, community, and purpose for each individual within their life.

In addition to exploring the Jewish, Hindu, Orthodox and Islamic traditions, we participated in multiple service projects throughout the city, including preparing food at a homeless shelter and volunteering at the elderly community center.  As I thought about how these projects connected to my own faith journey, I began to realize how service and action in the face of pain are inextricably connected to any expression of faith.  As we grow, face hardships, and recognize the struggles of others all around us, that pesky little question rears it’s head again; “Why does this happen?  How can such pain exist in a divine universe? Where was God?”

Well, maybe a better question is… where were we?

Often times having complete and infallible answers to these ultimate questions becomes so important in our minds that we forget that how crucial our own action is to their resolution.  We can ask and ponder all day long, but it is only in taking action for the good of others that we are truly responding to this divine challenge of humanity.  While wandering through the church that served as our our home base throughout the trip, I came across a passage posted on the wall which related perfectly to our journey in the city.  Written by Rachel Remen, it read: “Service rests on the basic premise that the nature of life is sacred, that life is a holy mystery which has an unknown purpose. When we serve, we know that we belong to life and to that purpose. Fundamentally, helping, fixing and service are ways of seeing life. When you help you see life as weak, when you fix, you see life as broken. When you serve, you see life as whole.”

Interfaith learning and action embodies this mission of service, as it honors the “whole-ness” of others, no matter their differences in daily hardships, cultural practices or religious views.  Revering the common connections within humanity is the foundation of compassion and of the healing process, and with this attitude of service we recognize that the work of our hands is a fundamental way we express the divine good.   Yes, at the end of the day, we might still have questions.   We might choose to answer them differently.  But rather than a pop quiz in which we hope to earn a gold star, faith is a journey, a holy mystery in which we all take part.  And it is often the hardships in life that force us to look past our own opinions, beliefs, and disagreements, and instead work together to end the struggle, honoring life as whole.

“Why” might you ask?

Because in order to overcome it, we all have to believe that love, compassion and community are stronger than anything that makes us different.

That’s why.

Reflections, chronologically

Senior Austin Totty reflects on his experience of the Interfaith Fall Break Trip using poetry.

(9:47 am, Saturday)

In this place there is purpose.

Life to give to life desperate for it

and a piece of bread.

Smile at the old woman and her

grandchild, coloring.

(2:09 am, Monday)

In this place there is purpose.

Tired eyes and open ears until

two in the morning.

Union in distinction and submission

to difference.

(10:15 pm, Monday)

Happiness is chopping

1000 lbs of carrots

and a sandwich in the hand of a

retired boxer.

Truth is “I’m hungry”

in the eyes and

“how could we let this happen?”

in the gut.

(3:56 am, Thursday)

Purpose is weapons down,

together, different,

us, them,

grab a bagel and some coffee,

there’s work to do.

Sunday Divine Liturgy:

A Glimpse into Orthodox Christianity in America

Senior Joseph Sills discusses his experiences at St. Nicholas Orthodox Church.

What better way to start a Sunday morning than a two-hour standing service at a Russian Orthodox Church? I guess that’s what our trip leaders thought, so that’s what we did.

In fact, St. Nicholas began as a Russian Orthodox Church before joining the Orthodox Church in America (OCA) in 1970 to reach an ever growing English speaking congregation. The church, however, still shows signs of its roots. Many of the members are still Russian, and many of the icons in the church bear Russian writing as opposed to the Greek more common in OCA churches.

Upon entering, the burning incense, chanting choir, and colorful icons engaged our senses; this promised to be an interactive service. In fact, as the service progressed I felt prompted to participate, so I began forming the sign of the cross every time the priest spoke “in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit”, I bowed as he sent out incense to the congregation, and I sang the best I could. You see, Orthodox Christianity is not new to me. Many of my family members who have grown up Protestant have become Orthodox in their adulthood, and I have attended many of their services. But at St. Nicholas, something caught my attention—the atmosphere of the service reignited my curiosity in this ancient expression of Christian faith.

Afterwards, we spoke with the priest, Father Maximus, about some of the Orthodox rituals. As he explained several practices such as iconography and praying to saints, Father Maximus interwove stories of his own experience as his adolescence as a nominal Catholic, young adulthood as a Protestant evangelist, and ultimately his ordination as an Orthodox priest. At first I was struck with the breadth of the religious tradition he had traversed, and then I wondered how hard it must have been to be uprooted twice out of comfort and placed in a new and terrifying religious context. Father Maximus’ life reminded us all that the pursuit for excellence and truth never really ends and that as life progresses one’s faith path can take unexpected and even unasked for turns. Nevertheless, the joy in the man’s face revealed a faith not in himself, but in a Power who would accompany him through whatever life might bring next.

Thus in one of the world’s most ancient and firmly rooted Christian faith traditions, I felt affirmation to pursue my faith journey with all its twists and turns, ready to allow flexibility and vitality to take me somewhere I would not have dreamed.

Junior Jaime Dybuncio explores the relationship between religion and community.

I was raised Catholic.  This is no coincidence due to my parents’ home country being over 80% Catholic.  But while my parents brought their Filipino culture with them when they immigrated to the United States, they left behind a lot of their friends, family, and traditions that shaped their Catholicism.

Growing up in Los Angeles, I had the fortune to live in a generally open and accepting environment that celebrated difference. While I did accompany my parents to church, my parents never attempted to accelerate the strength or direction of my faith.  I was allowed to explore this space on my own.  Despite never feeling compelled or called to a specific creed, I always knew I needed to explore my personal faith further.

When I came to Davidson, I was in an environment for the first time where it was obvious that people’s religious beliefs were so clearly interwoven into their everyday lives.  I never had friends back home who met to discuss God’s teachings for example, nor were Sundays ever an occasion for my friends and me to get dressed up and go to church.  While this contributed to some initial culture shock, I found myself with more questions about my faith and about religion in general.  I never was able to connect the dots and understand the appeal of ascribing to a certain religion. From my limited experiences, I never understood what else my Church offered outside of moral guidance.   I’ve always held the notion that being a moral citizen is an intrinsic responsibility we bear as human beings, not something connected to following someone’s teachings. Therefore, for me, if religion just represented an outlet for how to
become a wholesome person, I never understood why I would limit myself to the teachings of only one religion. While having these questions, I always knew deeply that I was greatly simplifying religion, and seeing my peers so committed to their own faiths only emphasized this fact.

Luckily for me, I was afforded the opportunity to go on Davidson’s Interfaith Fall Break trip to Washington D.C.  During our 4 day trip, we got to take part in a Yom Kippur, Greek Orthodox, and Hindu service.  What mmediately was apparent to me were the communities within each house of worship we visited.  In my experiences at the church I would attend as a kid, I never remember befriending people my age or even talking to anyone else but my family.  I never associated community with religion.  Yet the Interfaith trip made it so clear and obvious that they go hand in hand.  After each service we went to, we were invited to some type of reception where the congregation met in a more relaxed setting.   Not only were the people we met incredibly welcoming and warm, but it was also obvious that if we were not there, nothing would change.  There was something about these communities we met that was different than a regular friend group.  You could sense in the room a certain warmth and love for each other that was very unique.

My favorite thing about visiting the Philippines is seeing my parents interact with their friends and family.  It never occurred to me, but so often these interactions happen in similar settings than the ones I encountered on the Interfaith trip.  Mass is always a time where the whole family goes together and sees old friends.  This sense of community in the church was lost when my parents moved to Los Angeles, and is something I did not experience first-hand.  But during my short stay in D.C., I was able to see how special this aspect is to religion, and I dive back into my personal faith journey with a renewed vigor and
excitement.

Preventing Further Tragedy

Thomas Reith, a freshman, reflects on his experiences at the Holocaust Memorial Museum while on the Interfaith Fall Break Trip.

One of the highlights of the Interfaith trip for me was the visit to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.  This was for a number of reasons: first, as a longtime student of the language, the field of Holocaust studies has always been of interest to me.  Second, having previously visited Yad Vashem in Jerusalem and the Denkmal für die ermordeten Juden Europas in Berlin, I was interested to see how the American memorial compared.

Upon first entering the museum, I was given an identification card detailing the life of a random Holocaust victim.  After riding a large freight elevator to the fourth floor, I spent the next few hours walking back down to the first, viewing a chronological history of the tragedy.  The journey culminated in the Hall of Remembrance, a large hexagonal room dedicated to the memories of the victims.  A single flame burned on the far side from the entrance, and I stood for a while in silent reflection.

Overall, I found the museum very insightful.  I especially appreciated its extensive debates about morality.  For example, take the exhibit on the Nazi rise to power: starting with the defeat of the Central Powers in World War I, the museum attempts to explain how the German people were ethically blinded and allowed Adolf Hitler to take control.  Another section of the museum described American reactions to the Holocaust, a part of history often ignored by our country.

I found one exhibition especially poignant: the hall of shoes.  Near the end of the museum, I walked through a tunnel and found myself surrounded by actual shoes of victims in open Plexiglas containers.  Their putrid smell filled the air, and I was reminded that all I had just seen and learned about was not just a story, but real history.  This in fact is the museum’s greatest strength: it not only educates its victims, but allows them to see part of the horror for themselves.  And so it accomplishes its mission: ensuring that nothing like the Holocaust will ever happen again.

Different Outlooks, Same Message: The Need for Interfaith in our Modern Globalized Society

Senior Kaitlyn Curran reflects on what a visit to the Islamic Center of Washington, D.C. has developed her approach to celebrating differences. 

                It is very difficult for me to pick one highlight from the Interfaith Fall Break trip to Washington D.C. because I found the trip as a whole to be powerful and thought-provoking. The service projects made me leave the “Davidson bubble” and face some of the problems members of our society struggle with each and every day, namely hunger and homelessness.  Although I am a religion major and contemplate the role of religion in various aspects of life, visiting the different houses of worship allowed me to meditate on the role and importance of Interfaith efforts within our globalized world.  That being said, the visit to the Islamic Center really hit home for me when Brother Abassi emphasized the need for tolerance among different World religions.

Brother Abassi began the visit by wishing us peace. What struck me was that he used the Jewish term, “Shalom” rather than the Arabic, “Salam.” He said that he greeted us like this as a way to show solidarity with the Jewish community who was celebrating Yom Kippur the day of our visit. He also said that there was really no difference between any of the major world religions because they all preach a total surrender to God.  I followed his train of thought as he traced the similarities between the three Abrahamic traditions but I found that his argument stretched a little thin when he incorporated an overly-simplistic version of Buddhism into his argument.  I was also a little frustrated when he simplified the schism between Shi’ite and Sunni Islam as being merely political and that the only major difference is the minor ritual movements Shi’ites perform as they pray. I kept thinking about what I was learning in my religion class on Shi’ism and how the oversimplification was kind of an insult to Shi’ites who have a rich and complex system of beliefs.

As much as I disagreed with some of the things our host was saying, I knew that his chief aim was to emphasize that Islam advocates tolerance and pluralism within the world. I sympathized with Brother Abassi when he told us that the media has not depicted Islam fairly in over a decade because of the horrible events of 9/11. I agree that the actions of one group should not determine the way an entire religion is perceived. I also support Brother Abassi’s fierce attempt to emphasize unity among religions rather than differences because it strengthens acceptance among different cultures.  Furthermore, I believe that once one sees the similarities with the “other,” celebrating the differences within religious traditions may be easier. I really enjoyed our visit with Brother Abassi because it made me really question what I believe what the term Interfaith means to me. Thanks to our conversation at the Islamic Center, I know that I define Interfaith and pluralism as not only recognizing the commonalities among religions but accepting and celebrating the differences.

Essential Interfaith

Sophomore Gracie Dover reflects on the Interfaith Fall Break Trip to Washington, D.C.

During Fall Break, twelve students from different grades and with varied interests went to Washington D.C. on the Interfaith Fall Break trip to explore the intersection of faith, religion, politics and service. Karen Soos, the adjunct Catholic Chaplain and Jared Smith, the Center for Civic Engagement fellow, led and planned the trip along with this year’s three scholars: Jessica Annonio, Alexis Grant, and me, Gracie Dover.

The main activities of this trip were visiting different houses of worship, exploring Washington D.C., and doing service.  We visited an Orthodox Christian Church, a Hindu Temple, an Islamic Center, and attended a Yom Kippur service.  In addition, we walked through the National Mall monuments, visited the Holocaust museum, the 9/11 Pentagon Memorial, and ate Ethiopian food.  Lastly, we prepared meals for the homeless at a local church are the D.C. Central Kitchen (the biggest homeless shelter in the U.S.) and worked at an elderly home. As senior Kaitlyn Curran explains, “DC Central Kitchen…doesn’t just try to ‘fix’ the problem of homelessness and hunger but empowers individuals” by providing culinary training and other social services for homeless people.

The best part of the trip for me was not our flurry of activities, but the deep conversations I had with my group members and the great new friendships I made.  After two months of demanding schoolwork and the cloistered Davidson life, I was ready for a break.  Now, I have come back feeling refreshed and inspired.   I see a greater purpose in my work at Davidson, since it will help me achieve my goals for the future, such as engaging in interfaith dialogue in a philanthropic setting.  I especially enjoyed our visit to a non-profit called Center for Interfaith Action on Global Poverty (CIFA).   CIFA works with leaders of different faiths in Africa, training them to teach their congregations about malaria, HIV/AIDS, and promote education for females.  Junior Hannah Jordan said the visit to CIFA “opened my eyes to the beautiful way that faith, service and politics can come together to change lives.”

Kaitlyn Curran, a religion major, said, “Honestly, I loved every part of the trip. If I had to pick just one thing, it would be the Hindu temple.  I loved being able to see what I’ve been studying firsthand and everyone was so hospitable.”  Interfaith action has been gaining momentum on campus with the student group, Better Together, the Interfaith Scholars, and different events Chaplain’s
Office has held.  To me, interfaith is essential in today’s day in age.  Curran said that her experience of “the Holocaust museum [was] particularly meaningful because it shows what can happen when interfaith relations in the socio-political realm are not explored. The horrible events of the Holocaust show that respectful interreligious dialogue and tolerance/acceptance are necessary in one’s society (especially with today’s globalized world).  Sophomore Alexis Grant said, “It is important to look out for the similarities in strangers with diverse backgrounds.  Instead of being paralyzed by fear, it is better to look for the beauty in differences.” Overall, it was a great trip, possibly life changing, and I would recommend to anyone who is curious about other cultures and how they can work together to promote peace.

A Ritual Moment

A guest blog post by Davidson senior James Wudel about his experience on Davidson’s Interfaith Fall Break Trip to Atlanta.

This fall break, I was one of ten folks who went on an Interfaith trip to Atlanta, sponsored by Davidson’s Chaplains Office and Interfaith Fellowship, a student group I’m part of.  Part of our daily routine was to have two ritual moments each day, where a member of our group would share with the group a piece of writing or music that they found spiritually evocative.  As my ritual moment, I had the group pass around and each read a stanza of a Paul Celan poem, “Tenebrae.”  I chose the poem because it is an inherently interfaith text, in that a Jewish poet, who lived through the Holocaust, is adopting the name of a Christian service of shadows for his work.

After reading the poem, a discussion of the poem happened without my planning it.  I had brought the poem to the table finding it evocative and relevant, but without understanding it all that well, so I was amazed by the ways my fellow travelers jumped on this text and started taking it apart in meaningful ways I hadn’t even begun to consider.  It was a great experience, starting a dialogue and watching it unfold far beyond what I had already thought through myself.  So, in commemoration of that evening, and in hopes that this piece of poetry can start more dialogue, I’d like to share “Tenebrae.”

Tenebrae

Paul Celan

We are near, Lord,

near and at hand.

Handled already, Lord,

clawed and clawing

as though the body of each of us

were your body, Lord.

Pray, Lord,

pray to us,

we are near.

Wind-awry we went there,

went there to bend

over hollow and ditch.

To be watered we went there, Lord.

It was blood,

it was what you shed, Lord.

It gleamed.

It cast your image into our eyes, Lord.

Our eyes and our mouths are open and empty, Lord.

We have drunk, Lord.

The blood and the image that was in the blood, Lord.

Pray, Lord.

We are near.