Address to the 240th Interfaith Prayer Service in Eugene on the Twentieth Anniversary of 9.11
On one hand, it is good to be together even if virtually and once again to connect as people of many faith traditions. On the other, I just want to acknowledge the ongoing pain from not being able to gather in person in that sacred space where we can see and interact with one another. For what makes that space so holy and good is not just the beautiful sanctuary that has stood a testimony of faith in the heart of Eugene for 110 years, but that for nearly 19 of those years we have been able to come together in the most amazing display of unity to share in prayer, chant, song, scripture, dance, laughter and even a few tears—things that speak from and to the heart and that comfort the soul, expressing our common humanity and revealing the spark of divinity within and among us.
20 years ago when we began this service at the suggestion of our friends from the Sikh community, I quoted Catholic theologian Hans Küng: “There will be no peace in the world until there is peace among the world’s religions.” I said then, and believe even more now, that what we were doing was no less than creating world peace, right here in our community. We have all been reminded countless times in the last few days of the 3000 lives that were lost on this day 20 years ago. Add to that the 7000 American soldiers who gave their lives in the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, the 30,000 soldiers who took their own lives in these last 20 years—10 times that of the lives lost on 9/11–and the 900,000 people, mostly civilians, who have lost their lives in all the wars fought in that time. The importance of coming together not just as people of faith, but as people of different faith traditions, to celebrate our oneness even as we honor our diversity, has never been greater. And especially now when this pandemic has shown just how interconnected and vulnerable we all are, not to mention all the fires and weather events as a result of climate change, it is absolutely essential for the existence of humanity that we learn all the more to live and to work and to pray and to sing together as one people.
There was an interesting exchange on the editorial pages of the Register Guard recently, a mini debate on the origins of morality and the role religion plays in its development. The argument that the writer, a humanist, was making was that human beings are perfectly capable of being moral persons without religion. The piece was in response to various claims that had appeared in the paper suggesting in one way or another that morality only comes from God, which the author challenged as being grossly unfair and reflecting a bias against atheists as somehow morally inferior. Fair enough. I think of John Lennon’s song, Imagine, as that vision of world peace with no countries and no religion too, remember? Interestingly, this week is the 50th anniversary of that song. Now that makes me feel old.
I didn’t have a lot of disagreement with the author of the editorial, though I would like him to know that there are a good many Biblical scholars who believe that the Apostle Paul did not write the offending passage he cited from the Letter to the Ephesians, but that is another matter. What I took exception to was his claim that, “Claiming belief in one religion is claiming that all other religions are false.” What? Would any of us be here if we believed that? Would you be watching online tonight if you believed that? To the contrary, the whole reason I heartedly joined Siri Kaur when she approached me with the idea for this service is because I believe it is so important as people of different faith traditions that we honor the truth that each of us possess. That doesn’t mean we agree with everything taught in each of our traditions, but that we recognize none of us can see the entire picture and that each of us see at least part of it.
I use the analogy of mountain climbing. Some claim we are all climbing the same mountain, just by different paths. That is not my view. Should we ever get to the top of that mountain, I think we will discover our mountain is not the only one. Maybe at best the three Abrahamic traditions are climbing the same mountain, but what we all share is not a common mountain, but the journey of mountain climbing. And on that journey, there is much we can learn from one another about the art of mountain climbing.
There is a tradition in the Gospel of John–which I and many others believe is more of a theological reflection on the meaning of Jesus than a historical biography of his life–and in that tradition Jesus is telling his very Jewish followers that they are not the only ones in the household of God. It’s pretty radical, really if you think about it from the perspective of a tribal mindset, of which Christians have some of the worst offenders. And here is Jesus saying to all those with such a tribal view, using the image of a shepherd, “I have other sheep who are not of this fold.” None of us represent all the sheep in God’s pasture, there are many others not in our fold. I suspect there are similar sayings in all of our traditions to remind us that the Divine, by whatever name you give the Holy, is greater than any one of our traditions.
And so I give thanks this day to the Holy One, not for 9/11 but that out of that tragedy, like the phoenix rising out of the ashes, something wonderful has emerged over these past 20 years to reveal to us the Holy and Sacred, not just in each of our traditions, but in the sharing of those traditions with one another, the interactions we bring into this Sacred space, the relationships we have built with those of different traditions, that we might all be one and in so doing, bring the world together in all its beauty and diversity, in peace. Imagine indeed.
Way to go Dan👍
Yes