Interfaith suspicions

It must be the season for interfaith gatherings – with two of them popping up recently – one at the Dead Sea and one at Ein Rafa, an Arab village west of Jerusalem. 

“An iftar for all,” written by Mohamad M. Jamous, who defines himself as a Palestinian peace activist and community leader from Ramallah, goes into detail about an interfaith event, near the Dead Sea, where 1,000 Jews, Muslims, Christians and Samaritans gathered, despite political and religious divisions.

The commonality was said to be “that justice, equality, freedom and security are the rights of every human being on the earth.”  

While all this sounds great, to the ears of those seeking unity and solidarity, it’s hard to get on board, in this effort, without first coming to some kind of basic understanding of each other’s positions, interests and future aspirations. Because in this massive photo op and feel-good moment, how does it work if some of the attendees are supportive of a group, such as Hamas, whose goals are the destruction of the homeland of other attendees? 

The interfaith initiative, under the name “The Children of Abraham Project,” seems to begin from a place where everyone is on equal footing, committed to the meting out of justice, equality, freedom and security for every man, woman and child, regardless of their faith, ethnicity or other differences. While that is a lofty and virtuous objective, it is not necessarily shared by all.

Jews, as well as Christians, would happily live amongst all others, respecting everyone’s right to live and let live, but that cannot be said for all Muslims. Sadly, those of the more extreme persuasion, who believe that every creature must be under the authority and dominance of Islam, are not committed to the ideals of mutual respect.

Jamous praises the coexistence that was exhibited at that event, promoting peace among the “different religions and communities.” But were there any substantive or in-depth discussions which would have unearthed the enormous and profound differences between each of these groups. Probably not, because those contrasts would have only served to undermine the hope of an imaginary unity, something they hoped to achieve.

But it’s hard to deny that the doctrines and philosophies, which come out of extreme faith, are usually meant for one group of people who see themselves as the sole bearers of truth and the final word on the way they believe that God has instructed them to act. So, while it works for them, it often relegates others as those who are the barrier or impediment to the type of Utopia which the extreme group contends is possible if only everyone would submit to their brand.

But none of those elements were likely discussed at this gathering, which sought to gloss over the inconvenient disparities that are best forgotten in order to pull off the “togetherness” which is the whole point of the name, “Abraham’s children,” because both Ishmael and Isaac equally fall into that category.

The problem, however, begins when the sons of Ishmael open the book, shared by both Jews and Christians – the Old Testament, also known as the Tanach, which distinguishes these two boys, both of whom share the seed of Abraham. It is in these writings that we see an inequality which is antithetical to the type of level playing field espoused by interfaith efforts.

In Genesis 17, verse 19, it says that God would establish His covenant with Isaac and not Ishmael, despite the fact that He, too, would become a great nation through his descendants. But the promise would be carried forth by Isaac and his descendants. 

That is not in keeping with the teachings of Islam which proclaim that those who do not adhere to its tenets are infidels.

So, how do you square those diverging paths in a coexistence setting – just don’t talk about them? You can manage that for an overnight event or even one that extends through the weekend, but when everyone goes back to their corners, those distinctions becomes a reality. 

One example of this was at the Ein Rafa gathering, also coinciding with the Muslim holiday of Ramadan. When the question of coexistence and diversity, following the October 7th massacre was asked, the speakers remained silent.

It’s easy to ignore the elephant in the room, so to speak. Just cover it up by extolling those who drove hours, to take part in this happening or by glorifying the amazing orators who took to the stage and the beautiful prayers which were offered up at sunset, accompanied by the sound of the shofar, to complete the illusion of unity.

All of these things were a prelude to the “iftar,” the name given to the evening meal, eaten during the Muslim holiday of Ramadan, when a daily fast is broken by a lavish spread in the evening. According to Jamous, Jews and Christians also took part in the fast, undoubtedly as a unifying gesture, because it’s not their custom but rather part of an interfaith act which, in this particular case, just happened to be adhering to Islam.

The question is what do these types of events really accomplish, other than a temporary show of good will? Those who take part in this type of exhibition, likely do so as a means of creating the image that all of these diverse groups can foster something positive while respecting one another as they acknowledge the differences among them. It may be well-meaning, but it fails to recognize the huge chasms between the faiths which account for the many wars and struggles throughout the history of mankind.

In a perfect world, everyone would respect one another, but, unfortunately, we do not live in a perfect world. Instead, we abound in a universe filled with strife, envy, anger, jealousy, hatred and every other type of evil that exists. 

It is only through the type of true faith, authored by a loving and merciful God that we are able to overcome the worst and most vile tendencies to which each of us are able to sink. All of the interfaith efforts will not erase those wicked impulses. Only turning in the direction of our Creator can cause us to abandon evil and choose righteousness. 

The Dead Sea event, spoken of as “a courageous step toward a future defined by dialogue, instead of violence and cooperation, instead of hostility, is merely an effort to bypass the Almighty and get to a place of wholeness on our own or, as Jamous calls it, “a collective effort.”

No iftar can accomplish those goals, because the gap is just too wide. Until we turn to our Maker, these humanistic efforts will continue to fall short of the peace on earth each of us is seeking.