Articles that aren't so depressing

I just realized that most of the postings I've done so far center around the dismal economic situation in the world. Just to show that I think about things other than the financial crisis, I figured I'd share some non-finance related articles.

On Sunday, the New York Times ran an article discussing the difficulties the holiday season holds for interfaith couples. Here is an excerpt:

In 1970, 13 percent of married American Jews were in mixed marriages; by 2001, 31 percent were, according to the National Jewish Population Survey done by United Jewish Communities. And that rate has risen steadily; between 1996 and 2001 (the last time the survey was conducted), nearly half the Jews who married — 47 percent — married outside their faith. While most mixed families find their own way through the holidays, a small but growing number like the Gawleys, mainly in urban areas, have joined interfaith groups.

In a totally unrelated article, the Wall Street Journal discussed the business of selling the bible:

It's an astonishing fact that year after year, the Bible is the best-selling book in America -- even though 90% of households already have at least one copy. The text doesn't vary, except in translation. The tremendous sales volume, an estimated 25 million copies sold each year, is largely driven by innovations in design, color, style and the ultimate niche marketing.

There's Scripture as accessory, wrapped in hot pink fake leather or glittery psychedelic swirls -- or sporting a ladybug on the cover for no particular reason other than it's cute. There's Scripture as political statement: A new Green Bible, printed in soy ink on recycled paper, highlights passages with an environmental theme.

See, I do think about things other than the fact that the world is entering the worst recession that any of us have ever seen going through a little financial difficulty.

Rabbi Bachman: Indulge in making peace

I met Rabbi Andy Bachman a little over 5 years ago at NYU. He was the director of the Jewish Center at NYU and I had reached out to him to have an interfaith gathering during our tense post-9/11 days. I had the pleasure of attending two Reformed worship services and then being a part of the Interfaith dinner where the Rabbi, the Priest, and the Imam led a panel discussion on their common ancestor, Abraham.

In addition to all the formal events, I also got to know Rabbi Bachman as a very intelligent, thoughtful, and caring family man. I was delighted to have stumbled upon his blog recently, it's rare that you get some insight into the thoughts of a religious leader.

Here I present to you his piece on Christmas Day. For those of you not from NYC, there's a very common New York experience that happens on Christmas Day -- Chinese Food!

Many non-Christians - most commonly Jewish and Chinese folks - end up going out for Chinese food and then maybe catch a movie. As a Catholic who celebrates Christmas on Christmas Eve and Midnight I was able to participate in this inter-cultural/inter-faith experience on occasion.

Rabbi Bachman and his family now participate in a similar event (minus the movies and plus a Christmas service). Read on:

Indulge in Making Peace

The first step was the Chinese Food. “Two?” said the hostess at the entrance but I heard, “Jew?” And why not? One quick look around the restaurant indicated that the two tribes most represented last night were the Judeans and the Cantonese.

“Where are all these people from, serving us the Chinese food?” my five year old asked. It suddenly occurred to her that there was a discernible pattern at work. That there was a relationship between the people and the food. A cultural-anthropological moment to behold!

“They’re Chinese,” I said. “The come from China, the largest country on Earth. We’re Jews, and we are among the smallest nations on Earth. But on Christmas we come together since neither of us really celebrate Christmas.” (Too complicated to explain that there are Chinese Christians. We’re dealing in broad strokes, cultural tropes. Nuance can come a bit later.)

We eat, share the meal with friends, and then head out.

Just like last year, we stop at one of the churches in the neighborhood. Baby Jesus is missing from the Nativity scene.

“Where’s Jesus?” one of my kids asks.

“Maybe the church puts him out in the manger at Midnight,” I offered.

They’re used to asking questions about ritual settings, I think, pondering the Seder table’s set-up for the Four Questions.

We head over to Old First Reformed Church, where my friend Rev. Daniel Meeter is nursing the same wicked upper respiratory infection I had last week. Despite his ailing state, he looks great in a tuxedo and black robe. He came to us on Yom Kippur. We go to him on his holy day. That’s what friends are for.

“Thank you for coming, brother,” he says. And then is off to his procession. My kids grab candles and take their seats to listen to the music, a beautiful collection of hymns and melodies they don’t hear in Shul but nonetheless represent our neighbors’ best efforts at reaching God on their terms, in their language.

The candlelight service is a great touch. It’s very effective ritual theater. We Jews do a candlelight service once a year as well–on Tisha B’Av, to commemorate the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. I think back to last summer, in Jerusalem, where we sat on the ground overlooking the Old City and listened to Lamentations sung in Hebrew while holding candles. A Yahrzeit candle of mourning representing one new light of hope. Always intertwined for us Jews–mourning and renewal.

Back to the Church. The service is alternating expression of text and song. Each hymn illuminating in some form the prior words read from Scripture. One of our congregants read from the end of the Sacrifice of Isaac, a devotional reading that for Jews is about the struggle and promise of faith; and for Christians is about representative of the promise of Jesus. The Hebrew was chanted beautifully. My kids shot up and followed along, beaming with pride. The ecumenicalism of the moment seemed to work.

I imagined earlier sages visiting Churches, experiencing the wonder of other nations seeking God and having the confidence to appreciate that when done right, religion can be a great, unifying force in the world.

For me the climax of the service was hearing Gloria in Excelsius Deo, a classic hymn from the early church still sung today. “Glory to God in the highest” ring its words and I thought, “that’s right. In the highest. Beyond the reach of hatred; beyond the reach of division; beyond the reach of suicide bombers and fanatical martyrs; beyond the reach of those who would take the branch from the Tree of Life and destroy all that is good in what we ultimately strive for, in the highest: blessing and peace.

Afterwards, we go for ice cream. One of us orders Mint Chip; another orders Chocolate Chocolate Chip. A third orders Dolce du Leche. Each of us have ordered double flavors. What a rich and indulgent night. We hurry the kids home. In the morning we will go deliver toys to some less fortunate kids who are celebrating their holiday at a free meal. Even to give is an indulgence in blessing.

And I find the symmetry. Our personal lives are completely Jewish. We keep Shabbat. Our kitchen is kosher. We travel to Israel as a family. And, in our broader neighborhood, we respect and appreciate the paths others take to find blessing and peace.

What a rich and indulgent life.

To indulge in making peace where there is strife.

Rabbis and Imams break bread.

And the bread said, Ouch!

But seriously, there was no punchline. That's just what happened, they went to dinner. And it was good.

On Sunday, the NY Daily News reported that a group of Jewish and Muslim clergymen held an interfaith summit in Manhattan. I was excited to read this article because I think it's something our religious leaders need to do more: Talk.

When I was a Senior at NYU, our community faced an unfortunate aggressive backlash against Muslims following the September 11th attacks. As Vice-President of the Newman Club, our campus Catholic Club, I reached out to the Islamic Center and the Jewish Center and hosted an Interfaith dinner and talk. Almost 200 people showed up to our short-notice gathering and it remains one of the most incredible experiences of my life. We followed up with a pretty amazing Interfaith panel discussion in the Spring.

We received the NYU President's Service Award for holding the interfaith sessions and for helping to ease tensions in our community. I'm not sure if the dialogue continued after we graduated. But, I feel that now, as much as ever, we need to continue to reach out and learn about one another.

The article quotes the clergymen as stating that they learned from one another:
"We exchanged our cards. We exchanged our theology, our thinking, our etiquette," said Malik Sakhawat Hussain, the imam of the Al-Mahdi mosque in Coney Island, Brooklyn. "And we found we have much more in common than we thought."

For example:
"You say, 'Shalom,' we say, 'Salaam,'" he told one rabbi. "You say, 'Amen,' we say, 'Amin.'"

I also loved this story shared by Syed Zaheer-ul Hassan, an Imam from Trumbull, Connecticut:
He shared an Islamic legend about the great ancestor of both faiths, the man the Jews call Abraham and Muslims call Ibrahim.

"Ibrahim would never eat alone," Hassan told the group. "He would only eat when he had guests."

Once, three guests dined with Ibrahim and wanted to pay for the meal. Ibrahim said there was no charge, but the guests insisted. "Don't give me any money," said Ibrahim, "but accept the ideology of one God."

That was too much of a price for the visitors. They refused. "Then don't accept," Ibrahim said, "just bow your heads to the ground."

The imam continued, "As they bowed, Ibrahim looked to the heavens and said, 'Okay, God. You take it from here.'"

He then turned to the assembled rabbis and imams and said, "We've done our duty. God, we now need your help."