Teilhard: The Phenomenon of Man

THE PHENOMENON OF MAN [1]

of Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

A Portion Briefly Presented and Commented on by

Leonard Swidler (dialogue@temple.edu) [2]

This book was written in the 1930s with Fascism (Italy), Falangism (Spain), Nazism (Germany), and Stalinism (Russia) raging, Teilhard offers an admonition not to be discouraged:

“Despite an almost explosive acceleration of noos-genesis [3] at our level, we cannot expect to see the earth transform itself under our eyes in the space of a generation. Let us keep calm and take heart.... Monstrous as it is, is not modern totalitarianism really the distortion of something magnificent, and thus quite near to the truth?”—Corruptio optimae, pessima. [4]

A. The Personal Universe

Teilhard indicates that the whole pattern discernible in evolutionary movement in the universe from the bottom up moves in the direction of consciousness, even of a supreme sort: “Evolution is an ascent towards consciousness.... Therefore, it should culminate forward in some sort of supreme consciousness.”

He then provides a brief analysis of the inner structure of consciousness which leads inevitably “upward”: Every consciousness is possessed by a three-fold property: “(1) of centering every-thing partially upon itself; (2) of being able to center itself upon itself constantly and increas-ingly; and (3) of being brought by this very super-centration into association with all the other centers surrounding it.”

Teilhard finds that the universe in the forms of space and time structurally move in a “curved,” “converging” fashion eventually leading to consciousness and beyond its primitive forms to an ultimately universalized Consciousness—Omega Point: “Because it contains and engenders consciousness, space-time is necessarily of a convergent nature. Accordingly, its enormous layers, followed in the right direction, must somewhere ahead become involuted to a point which we might call Omega, which fuses and consumes them integrally in itself. However immense the sphere of the world may be, it only exists and is finally perceptible in the directions in which its radii meet—even if this were beyond time and space altogether.”

This language and imagery reminds one of the image of Ultimate Reality being like the Horizon, always receding (which image was also used by two other Jesuits of an only slightly younger age: Karl Rahner and Bernard Lonergan), “luring” us forward (to use a Whiteheadian process-thought term for Ultimate Reality, “God”). As a humanist Marxist might say: Being human is a never-ending task.

Quite different from the advaita version of Hinduism, or of Buddhism, Teilhard insists on the person not being totally absorbed, obliterated or “blown out,” as in Nirvana: “It is therefore a mistake to look for the extension of our being or of the noosphere in the Impersonal. The Future-Universal could not be anything else but the Hyper-Personal–at the Omega Point.”

B. The Personalizing Universe

Teilhard stresses his vision that persons are the acme of the universe and that they can never disappear—this is the thrust of the evolution of the universe:

The universe is a collector and custodian of consciousness, the mere hoarding of these remains would be nothing but a colossal wastage. What passes from each of us into the mass of humanity by means of invention...is admittedly of vital importance.... But, far from transmitting the most precious, we are bequeathing, at the utmost, only the shadow of ourselves. Our works? But even in the interest of life in general, what is the worth of human works if not to establish, in and by means of each one of us, an absolutely original center in which the universe reflects itself in a unique and inimitable way? And those centers are our very selves and personalities. The very center of our consciousness, deeper than all its radii; that is the essence which Omega,[5] if it is to be truly Omega, must reclaim.... To communicate itself, my ego must subsist through abandoning itself, or the gift will fade away.”

The higher the development of consciousness, the more it must exist and persist in its own reality without absorption. This is the unavoidable pattern of the universe:

The conclusion is inevitable that the concentration of a conscious universe would be unthinkable if it did not reassemble in itself all consciousnesses as well as all the conscious; each particular consciousness remaining conscious of itself at the end of the operation, and even (this must absolutely be understood) each particular consciousness becoming still more itself and thus more clearly distinct from others the closer it gets to them in Omega.

Here is a clear insight (i.e., center-to-center union intensifies the distinct being of each center in proportion as they unite) which connects the whole universe and points ineluctably to the perfection and continuance of all parts—in this case, individual conscious persons:

In any domain—whether it be the cells of a body, the members of a society or the elements of a spiritual synthesis—union differentiates. In every organized whole, the parts perfect themselves and fulfil themselves. Through neglect of the universal rule many a system of pantheism has led us astray to the cult of a great All in which individuals were supposed to be merged like a drop in the ocean or like a dissolving grain of salt. Applied to the case of the summation of consciousnesses, the law of union rids us of this perilous and recurrent illusion. No, following the confluent orbits of their centers, the grains of consciousness do not tend to lose their outlines and blend, but, on the contrary, to accentuate the depth and incommunicability of their egos. The more ‘other’ they become in conjunction, the more they find themselves as ‘self.’ How could it be otherwise since they are steeped in Omega? Could a center dissolve? Or rather, would not its particular way of dissolving be to super centralize itself?”

Teilhard then presents a vision of the ultimate goal of the universe, i.e., the gathering together of all being into the consciousnesses of persons who will be drawn to this culmination by distinct Consciousness at the center, as the dynamo from which all energy/being radiates—he says it better:

By its structure Omega, in its ultimate principle, can only be… a grouping in which personalization of the All and the personalizations of the elements reach their maximum, simultaneously and without merging, under the influence of a supremely autonomous focus of union.... called henceforward Omega Point”

Teilhard says that each individual’s natural tendency is to move more and more toward self-preservation and expansion by way isolation or domination—but that is a self-defeating strategy:

Egoism, whether personal or racial, is quite rightly excited by the idea of the element ascending through faithfulness to life, to the extremes of the incommuni-cable and the exclusive that it holds within it. It feels right.

But then he points out that it is not separateness as such that is important, but the person. However, one becomes person only by way of mutuality, center to center union—this is the law of the evolving universe:

Its only mistake, but a fatal one, is to confuse individuality with personality. In trying to separate itself as much as possible from others, the element individualizes itself; but in so doing it becomes retrograde and seeks to drag the world backwards towards plurality and into matter.... To be fully ourselves it is in the opposite direction...that we must advance —toward the “other.” The goal of ourselves, the acme of our originality, is not our individuality but our person; and according to the evolutionary structure of the world, we can only find our person by uniting together.... The true ego grows in inverse proportion to “egoism.” Like the Omega which attracts it, the element only becomes personal when it universalizes itself.... Since it is a question of achieving a synthesis of centers, it is center to center that they must make contact and not otherwise.

“Which brings us to the problem of love….”

[1] The Phenomenon of Man (1959 ed.) Book Four, Chapter Two, (Beyond the Collective: The Hyper-Personal)

[2] I found this on the hard drive of my laptop as distilled for a graduate seminar in 1996 from my reading Teilhard’s Magnum Opus, The Phenomenon of Man, 1958 edition,.

[3] Nous (Greek, “thought.”

[4] Latin, “Corruption of the best is the worst.”

[5] Omega is the last letter in the Greek alphabet; therefore, a symbol of the Ultimate.

A “Second Fall” or a “Forthcoming Resurrection”?

Religious Narratives of a COVID-19 Infected World

Yosra Elgendi

American University in Cairo

COVID- 19 is one of those crises that our generation and the younger generations are not accustomed to. Hence, it is possibly one of the reasons that we are ill equipped with the spiritual “skills” and “capacities” to handle such a crisis. The language we use and the way we think about it as an obstacle to economic progress, rather than a natural element of life that can reveal something profound about human vulnerability and precarity, is perhaps part of the technological era that we live in in which instrumental rationality has taken root. This instrumental rationality has entered the religious domain and shaped the religious narratives that try to make sense of the crisis. Newspapers reflect this dynamic.

Much of the newspaper reporting about the current crisis has focused on the closures that affected the houses of worship. The reporting focused on how different religions have either accepted or resisted the closures and how they made sense of them to their adherents as well as how they circumvented the closure conditions to continue praying through video-conferencing.  This may remind us that religions are not extra-political after all, lest the Westphalian narrative made us forget. Indeed they are deeply embedded in a religious-political or temporal- spiritual structure and balance of power that they are expected to conform to. Hence, while the religious narratives of the crisis have a hugely consoling role to play, they also reflect within them social and political structures. I will give only a few examples of newspapers/ websites that have reflected on the religious narratives of the current crisis in the contexts of Egypt and the United States. 

Some Egyptian commentators and journalists have focused on highlighting the COVID-19 crisis as a “punishment” for the wrath of God. Both pro-government websites as well as Muslim Brotherhood (oppositional) websites hosted such views. Both ascertained that there is a divine wrath but for different reasons. The Yaum- Al- Sabi’, a private newspaper with close connections to the regime, argued in an article that the narrative of divine punishment results from the lack of people’s obedience.

“God warned people against the consequences of disobedience and defiance, which include epidemics (Leviticus 26:21,25). So we remind of two times God of them took the lives of 14,700 people, and in the other 24,000 people because of disobedience in various forms (No. 16: 49 and also 9:25).

After God gave the law to Moses, he commanded the people to obey them so that they would not suffer many evils: "The LORD will strike you with wasting disease, with fever and inflammation, with scorching heat and drought, with blight and mildew, which will plague you until you perish.”  

Furthermore, oppositional media websites that stand against the Egyptian regime politically also joined the chorus in agreement that the pandemic is a punishment, albeit for a different reason. The reason to them is the political repression taking place in Egypt (and Syria).

“I used to tell my friends that the file may have been closed on Earth, but it was not folded in the sky, and that those who covered up the crimes of genocide in Egypt, murder and cremation on the day of the Holocaust, and covered up the killing of the Syrians, will strike upon them a thunderbolt from the sky that hurts those who did wrong in particular! My opinion was that in the face of these crimes and covering them up, the sky would intervene …”

While the Egyptian narratives focused on the narrative of the “punishment” for the “befallen” political actions, some American outlets focused on the “upcoming resurrection narrative.” For example, a Foreign Policy report highlights how epidemics were instrumental to the successful spread of Christianity.

“But the more famous epidemic is the Plague of Cyprian, named for a bishop who gave a colorful account of this disease in his sermons. Probably a disease related to Ebola, the Plague of Cyprian helped set off the Crisis of the Third Century in the Roman world. But it did something else, too: It triggered the explosive growth of Christianity. Cyprian’s sermons told Christians not to grieve for plague victims (who live in heaven), but to redouble efforts to care for the living. His fellow bishop Dionysius described how Christians, “Heedless of danger ... took charge of the sick, attending to their every need.”

The narrative of the ‘positive outcome’ of the epidemic was also reiterated by the Washington Post’s reporting that the closure of the churches - as a result of the epidemic - is actually contributing to a deeper faith experience than when the churches were open with an implicit critique of institutional religion.

One in four Americans say the coronavirus has deepened their religious faith, a poll released Thursday found, including a majority of black Protestants. Just 2 percent said the virus has left their faith weakened.

Of course, these newspaper narratives are not generalizable. Needless to say, a more systematic research regarding the religious narratives of the pandemic needs to be undertaken. How can these very different views of the same phenomena be understood? These stories cannot be tied to the extent of pandemic’s impact on countries as the United States has been hit hard with some 2,888,000 cases in the US (July 2020) versus only 70,000 in Egypt up to the writing of these lines. Hence, how can these different narratives be explained?

The relations of religion with the structures of power are one way of understanding the differences of these narratives. In the Egyptian case, religion is clearly built in the vertical structures of power through which politicizing religion (ie. using religion for political ends) is only a manifestation. However, in the American case, religious bonds are horizontal bonds that can dare to discuss religion outside (and sometime even different from religious institutions). As a reaction to the political, religion is constructed as being led by the political- in the form of obedience or repression - hence led by the material and worldly. However, as a civic religion, religion is constructed as a meaning-making force for individuals and communities who are constituted by religious narratives - in part - through being consoled in times when all need a religious consolation.

The Importance of Interpreting Worldviews

4/15/2020

By Sayge Martin

The first time I read The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down by Anne Fadiman was the first time I felt utterly challenged by another worldview. The story revolves around Lia Lee, a Hmong child suffering from epilepsy and struggling to obtain proper care from a healthcare system lacking skill in cross-cultural communication. 

Originally from Laos, the Lees moved to Merced, California in the 1980s. Their daughter, Lia, was diagnosed with a severe form of epilepsy named Lennox-Gastaut Syndrome. They faced many hurdles while attempting to get treatment for Lia, mainly the lack of proper translators coupled with the fact that their Hmong beliefs clashed with the method of treatment used for epilepsy in the United States. Fadiman maintains a distinct dichotomy between Hmong spirituality and the Western doctor’s science to emphasize the refusal of both parties to step outside their deeply entrenched belief systems. Because doctors couldn’t effectively communicate with the Lees and didn’t attempt to empathize with their traditional Hmong beliefs, there were miscommunications about medical dosages as well as refusal from the parents to give certain medications due to mistrust. Lia's condition worsened. At four years old, Lia suffered a seizure that left her in a persistent vegetative state for 26 years.

Ultimately, the book encourages widescale education initiatives for healthcare workers as well as additional support from outside resources to raise awareness about nuances in treatment based on cultural differences. Through cooperation and compassion, a standard of care can be upheld that prioritizes respect for both patient and practitioner. 

In light of the global pandemic, I find myself thinking of the book often. How many people are experiencing religious and cultural barriers in the healthcare system today? And how many healthcare workers are trying to bridge these gaps, but lack assistance in the form of translators and cultural mediators?

When proper support is in place, dialogue can occur that highlights the scientific recommendations of a doctor while taking into consideration the personal beliefs of a patient. Individualized care can be administered in a way that minimizes miscommunication and offers alternatives when applicable. Dialogue is a central aspect of daily life and proves to be a skill necessary for everyone. Dialogue skills in healthcare, specifically, are essential to prescribing a successful method of treatment.
​
As with any blog post, article or written piece, I encourage readers to reflect on the topics presented. The book referenced is 'The Spirit Catches You and You Fall Down: A Hmong Child, Her American Doctors, and the Collision of Two Cultures' by Anne Fadiman, 1997 - A great read if you’re looking to learn more about the story in the post.

Searching - Finding/Not-Finding - Still Searching

1/30/2020 

By Leonard Swidler

Updated 1/26/21

I don't know: If there is “Something” out there that is so super-wonderful, but reveals Her/His/It/self only to a rather select few, “It” doesn't seem to be even as loving as I am – and have many shortcomings therein.

Maybe, however, there is a sort of Alpha/Omega that is evolving in Existence ever “greater” (not in the quantitative sense, but qualitative), an infinitely ahead of me/us Source/Goal of all Energy, Power, Consciousness, not static but dynamic – Be-ing, ing, ing…...?

After all, we know that our Cosmos started out 13. Billion years ago tinier than an atom (!),  exploded (Big Bang!) and is still expanding-ing,ing,ing…. at the speed of light (186,000/miles per second!!!).

However, while we are here – now! – why don’t we each – individually and together – work as intensely as possible to make ourselves personally and communally, as loving as possible. 

For my part, rather than looking “over there,” I prefer to put out my hand and heart to the ones I can reach, touch, somehow, here and now. 

In my youth, in the monastery, and afterward, I strove mightily to attain some inner taste of that Alpha/Omega. Now at age ninety-two, I am no longer excited by the prospect of grasping/being-grasped-by “Being/Goodness/Truth/Beauty.” Rather, I am content with, each moment, being the recipient of all the being, truth, beauty, goodness in the now increasingly touchable global being. I embrace the persons I meet and engage, both those in front of me, and those also truly present to me via the internet, and whatever else is being developed in the coming cascade of ever more rapidly newly developed means to embrace each other in love: in Philia, Agape, and Eros – each in her/his individually profound ways.

*******
I don’t know. But I do feel there is Being out there, and here – super wonderful, who reveals Her/Himself to all beings capable of loving. She/He seems to be much more loving than I am since Love is what He/She is said to be. She/He is called the Source of all Being, who says, “I am who I am,” or, newly understood, “I will be who I will be.” Thus, when I embrace the persons I meet, and engage those in front of me, I somehow touch and feel Alpha/Omega that is all-loving. I somehow enter into Being, into Agape, Philia, Eros, Love. I can sing, dance (now, only haltingly), shout, praise, give thanks with the whole universe… 
Agape, 

Friend!    

Leonard Swidler, dialogue@temple.edu

The Meaning Of Love—a Reflection

1/10/2020

By ​Leonard Swidler

Updated 1/30/2021

The Meaning of Love: A Reflection 

Leonard Swidler (dialogue@temple.edu) 

O Theophila*, you ask about the meaning of love.
Limitless words have been spoken and written to try to grasp the meaning of that word, and the reality it tries to name. 

You ask, “What do I think it means?” Let me take your question seriously and try to lay out my understanding as clearly as I can. This will be longish, and in the beginning, mostly “dry,” but “feeling” will creep in gradually.

First, at the most fundamental level: “What do we mean when we use the word ‘good’”?  

—That was “good” ice cream.  

—That was a “good” performance of Mozart;  

—George is a “good” friend…. 

We all understand when someone makes those statements. But what does “love” mean in those very different statements?  

I understand it to mean: “I wish to become one with” Mozart, ice cream, George….  

Whenever we perceive the “good” we want to become one, united, with it.

That then raises the question: What do we mean by the word “good”? 

I think we have in our minds: An idea of what something should do, and when it does that, we say that it is “good.”  

Thus, we think that ice cream should be, for example, sweet, cool, soft…., and to the extent the ice cream we are eating does those things, we think/say that it is “good,” or “not good,” or “very good”….

Of course, different people might have different understandings of what ice cream should be like: It should be very soft, or, medium soft, or, almost hard, or, very sweet, or, slightly sweet…. To the extent that this ice cream does what I/you think ice cream should do, I/you say that it is “good,” “very good,” “not so good,” “bad.”….

The same is true of music: We think that this sound should “calm our feelings,” or “arouse our feelings,” or “be pleasing to hear,” or….. To the extent it does those, and/or things, we say that it is “good,” “not so good,” “bad.”…. Because different persons might have similar, or very different, ideas about what music should do, we have differing judgments as to whether Mozart’s music is “good” or “not.”…. 

When I say that George is a “good” friend, we understand that a friend is a person who “we can depend on,” “will sympathize with us when we are sad.”…. If George does that a lot, we say he is a “very good friend.”….or not such a good friend….

Again, when we use the word “good” we mean that this “thing”—ice cream, Mozart, George…is doing what we understand ice cream, Mozart, friend should do.

Here is where “love” comes in:  

Love fundamentally means, “We want to become ‘one’ with what we perceive as ‘good.’”  

Thus, I want to become one with ice cream by eating it. I don’t want to “eat” Mozart, but I want to “become one” with him by “listening” to his music. I want to “become one” with George, not by “eating him,” or by sitting quietly with my eyes closed and listening to him endlessly; I want to “be one” with him by talking together with him, sharing his joys and sorrows, helping him when he is in need….

So, to my Beloved: I perceive you as a “good” friend, and thus, I want to talk with you, share my joys and sorrows with you…. I want to become “one” with you in endless ways… 

Because you and I are “persons,” my love for you means that I want to be “one” with you in the endless ways that only persons can be one with each other. All those different ways are endless because Persons are made “In the Image of God” (Gen 1:27), who is endless.  

Even if a person doesn’t believe that “God” exists (historically, we humans have had such wildly contradictory understandings of “god” that it is understandable that many find the idea of “God” unacceptably confused), there is in us humans an “endless” quality. We reach out endlessly in every direction—wider, wider, deeper, deeper…. without end. 

Even when the body ceases to exist; even when there doesn’t appear to be a separate “soul” in us humans (Where was my beloved Andie’s “soul” when she slowly disintegrated from Alzheimers before my eyes for seventeen years!? I don’t know; Ich Weiss es nicht; Je ne se pas; Io non so…). Still: There is this endless, “infinite” quality that exists in each human person. What it might be after the death of the body, we don’t know.  

Nevertheless, we have this endless yearning. For us humans, reality is endless, not only in “time,” but also in “space,” that is, we endlessly reach out to Become one with—Love—all “Being,” which we come to know endlessly, and hence, move to become “one with….” 

Thus, my “loving” you means that I am yearning to, moving toward, becoming one with you more and more…. endlessly. At the same time, my perception of you, my loving you, my becoming one with you continually expands/deepens so that mysteriously you grow ever greater. Somehow this loving you, this moving to become one with you, draws more and more of reality to be one with you—and me. Thus, endlessly all becomes One, Good….You—and I move to become with You, and you are endlessly expanding. 

Is this what we mean—or, perhaps, better, somehow “experience,” yearn for—when we read and make our own in the New Testament “Letter of John” (1. Jn 4:8): ho theos agape estin, “God is love.” Or, maybe, yet deeper in the inverse: he agape theos estin: “Love is God!” 

Love, Len                                                                                                                           1/30/2021 

***** 

* Acts of the Apostles, 1:1. Ho Theolophile (Greek,  Ho, “Oh”; phile, “love”; theos, “God”). 

Stuck in the Middle with You: A Dual Perspective

7/26/2019

by Stephanie Abboud and Mahmoud Eldronky 

A short preface; the following are two articles meant to be read in tandem as one. Two former SUSI students wanted to share the story of their experience from each of their perspectives. Specifically Stephanie and Mahmoud wanted to write about their interactions with each other over this time and what they came to understand of one another. 

Stephanie Abboud 

On the eve of our departure back home, all of us gathered into a circle and were asked to share what we’re really taking back home with us from the program. When my turn came, with tears in my eyes, I talked about how Mahmoud and I each came from one of the two opposite ends of a spectrum, but somehow managed to meet in the middle by the end of the program. Everyone in the room knew about the clashes that happened (a lot and very often) between Mahmoud and I. So when I spoke, they all laughed. I didn’t have to try too hard to explain, almost everyone witnessed our stand-offs, and they all witnessed our eventual friendship. I think most of them were intrigued by the special bond we shared. As I look back at it now, I’m certain it must have been a beautiful process to watch.

Mahmoud is a year older than me, and while that doesn’t make for a difference between us, there were many other things that did. We came from different genders, different countries, different religions, and different societies. A difference in one of these characteristics would not do much –but the combination of differences in all these characteristics set us straight out on a collision path. Don’t get me wrong, Mahmoud is amazing with a heart of gold, but getting to know him was tough.

During our first days in the US, I had the impression Mahmoud was a cool and fun guy (and he is). A few days later, we had our first disagreement, and apparently, it wasn’t going to be cool between us. Mahmoud told me he did not believe in friendships between men and women. I, not only did, but most of my friendships were with men. That meant my friendships were something he frowned upon, and I did not want him to judge me. So after failing at convincing him (and at making myself look moral), I promised to show him that not only are inter-gender friendships possible, but beautiful too. Little did I know back then that this was not going to be the last of it.
Two days later, I found the audacity to ask something that surprised him “Am I an infidel to you?” This was our first dialogue about religion –the first of more to come. I did not want him to sugarcoat it to be polite, so I kept arguing and pushing him to admit that he did, but he would not say it.

The following day, Mahmoud compared my outfit (a tank top and shorts) with our friend’s (long-sleeves and jeans). He told me with so much sass “She is cold. She is cold and you’re not.” I knew then that my outfits were going to become another thing Mahmoud frowned upon. From that day on, I would wake up every day and think “Is Mahmoud going to judge me if I wear this?” I wanted him to see me for who I actually am, not for what I wore. The day after, we were going to a mosque. I asked Zeynab, one of our friends, to put the hijab on for me the way she does it herself. Mahmoud scans me, smirks, and says “Did Zeynab put the hijab on for you? Well that’s not the proper way to wear the hijab. If you want to wear it like that, might as well not wear it all” and turned around. I stood disappointed –Here I was excited to be introduced to their religion and making an effort to dress appropriately, and he was criticizing me for wearing the hijab the same way a Muslim woman wears it herself. Later that morning, he commented on my ankles still being visible and on how that made my pants not suitable for the visit and walked away. I began wondering if our cultural and religious differences make him hate me.

The day before going to church, I made sure to get back at him and tell him to wear decent shoes out of respect to the place we’re going to. I thought he took me seriously. But the next day, he went in flip-flops. He was also talking and joking all service long. I was annoyed. Why could I show appreciation for his religion and he couldn’t respect mine?

A few days later, Mahmoud sat on the bench cross-legged in a basilica! I had enough of him. He wanted me to abide by his religion’s rules, when he couldn’t show basic courtesy towards mine.
Of course however, just like every story, ours could not have happened without a turn of events. Mahmoud and I were seated next to each other in a Jewish synagogue and talked together, but I was judging him inside, having had enough of him and his strict conservatism for the past two weeks. On our way out, Mahmoud suffered from a hypotension crisis. I was so scared for him and of losing him. The tears we all cried broke down the wall I had built against him. It was then that I realized that, no matter how much Mahmoud criticized my behavior, I had profound love for him. I think he realized that too then but he couldn’t understand why. And maybe that was the lesson we both needed to learn: Love for difference. We both can pinpoint that this incident broke the ice between us, but we’ll both still admit, to this day, that this wasn’t the end of it. And while it wasn’t the end, it was definitely the beginning of a friendship (he still won’t admit it’s a friendship, so he can call it what he likes). We began talking often, having friendly conversations and small talk, and enjoying each other’s company. Dialogue. But most of all, it was religion we discussed. Does God exist? Which religion has the real truth? Are Christians going to hell? The Holy Trinity, Jesus, Mohammad, the Qoran. Everything. But of course, we would face trouble again.

One night, when my advice on relationships to one of his friends back home included “A girl is free to do whatever she wants”, Mahmoud explained “She’s a Lebanese girl, so don’t really listen to what she says.” I stormed out of the room and didn’t even bother hearing his explanation. Am I too liberal for him and his friends to the point where my opinion should be disregarded? I was genuinely tired of our antics, and was giving up on getting anywhere with him.

On our way back from an Islamic Center, Mahmoud scolds us for not asking the Imam questions. He said that he was asking questions he already knew the answers to out of respect only. I looked at him and snapped: “Don’t talk about respect when you walk into church, sit cross-legged and flaunt your flip-flops when I had specifically asked you to wear sneakers for “respect””. He was surprised of my reaction and didn’t expect it. As he was answering, I, once again, walked away. That same afternoon, I wore loose pants and a bra-top for a pool party, as I thought I was dressed accordingly. Mahmoud yelled at me for hanging around the pool when the men were swimming. He could have explained that they believe it’s haram for me to look at their nude torsos, but he yelled instead. I was starting to get used to that, but what came next was, to me, the straw that broke the camel’s back. When I was casually talking to him, he handed me the nearest jacket he found, and told me “The next time you want to talk to me, dress accordingly.”

All trip-long, I had never been as outraged of Mahmoud, as I was when I heard those words, that I just walked away and sat on my own in the nearest room. I was furious. This was him blatantly imposing his culture on me. He had reached a whole new level: He wanted to change the person I am, my behavior, and the way I dress. He was saying that if I wanted to talk to him, I had to behave the way he sees fit. I was fuming. Some of our friends tried to mediate, tried to calm me down, and talked to him. But I wasn’t going to let it slide and Mahmoud wasn’t going to take it back. As fed up as I was, I decided to give him the silent treatment. The only times I would break my silence were to snap back at anything he would say with a clever comeback. I wasn’t going to let him hear the end of it. It was cute; we both wanted to be in the other’s presence, but ignored each other instead because of course we had a stance to hold.

The next morning, Mahmoud did not wear flip-flops to church. He wore sneakers. During the service, while he laughed a little, he would stand when everyone would, and sit down when everyone did. I loved watching him blend in. But I was still infuriated, so I wasn’t going to say anything or give him credit for any effort. Our friends kept trying to mediate for the next three days. Every time, I would list the things Mahmoud told me so far and explain how this was the worst of it and how fed up I am. But deep-down, it was him I wanted to be the one talking to. I wasn’t going to make the first-move so I kept snapping at him until he would react and try talking to me. And he did.

​For the first time in 3 weeks, Mahmoud and I sat down together to talk. Two of our friends acted as facilitators as Mahmoud and I took turns to speak. I explained how angry I was, and gave evidence that I had reason to be. It was the first time I actually told him how I felt instead of ignoring him or walking away. Mahmoud really listened. He gave me the space to empty everything I wanted to say. He then explained to me his point of view and even apologized. I was happy to hear one but I just wanted him to understand how I felt. And for once, he did.

While Mahmoud and I had always discussed our religions and societies, this was the first time we sat down together and actually opened up about how our differences were affecting us. And by far, this was our most fruitful conversation of all. Moving forward, he still wouldn't admit any of us girls were his friends, or that I'm an infidel, but I stopped pushing him to. He stopped criticizing my outfits, and, together, we began having civil debates about our cultures and lifestyles. None of us had changed, but we had finally learned to accept each other the way each of us was.

Mahmoud and I spent the next two weeks on great terms. We enjoyed having each other around. He hung out with us more often, went out with us, talked more, and made some inside jokes. We took pictures together. I remember our friends’ looks of pride when they saw us talking, or insisting on waiting for the other to tag along. Proud of the place we reached. Before we went back home, he told me he was going to miss having someone praise him all day long. That night, he even addressed a group conversation to me. We were talking about salvation, and I still remember him looking at me with every word he said. Mahmoud also encouraged me to speak up when I was right and make myself heard. I did so when he pushed me to. We got each other goodbye gifts; I got him a book about Christianity he was looking for along with another book: “Seeking Allah, Finding Jesus”. I thought it embodied our experience together perfectly. 

The last day, goodbye came. When it was time for me to leave, I had to find a way to properly bid Mahmoud farewell. He was busy with his back turned to me, so I ran from behind and hugged him with all the strength I had. With all the affection I’ve ever had for him –all the affection I could never show him because he absolutely is against all kinds of inter-gender physical contact.  And that was exactly why he was taken by surprise and screamed “NOOOOO” right in the middle of the hotel lobby. You see, even when we had managed to put our differences aside and meet in the middle, we still clashed. Rebecca laughed; it was one last Mahmoud-Stephanie episode to end the journey.

​Mahmoud and I learned the hard way that no matter how different two people are, there is always somewhere to meet in. The less different two people are, the easier a middle is to find. In our case, meeting each other halfway meant that each of us had to cross over a long, very long, path. But we did. We argued, fought, clashed, and even hurt each other. But we also talked, listened, made an effort, and found a middle ground. Dialogue really does bring people together, and bridge between cultures. I was a 21-year old Lebanese Christian girl, too liberal for him. He was a 22-year old Egyptian Muslim guy, too conservative for me. But we were both young, Arabs, and we both believed in God and shared some common morals and values. It took us a long while to learn to put our differences aside and focus on what’s beyond. Today, a year in, I couldn’t be any happier that we did. Mahmoud taught me (and he still does) so much. I still turn to him for questions about Islam. But beyond that, he made me more understanding than I thought I was, more tolerant, more accepting. The Stephanie that travelled to the US for SUSI in July 2018 was not the same Stephanie that came back to Lebanon in August 2018 –and I owe a huge part of that to Mahmoud and the journey we experienced together.

Mahmoud Eldronky 

Before rewriting this article, I immersed myself in the folder of SUSI in which I keep all the dearest memories to me. Rereading what my friends wrote and Seeing the photos we took and videos we made was like getting back physically one year ago. Before this tremendous experience, very often did I find myself inclined to those who were like me. This journey was a major transformation for me in so many levels. At first I found myself more comfortable with the Egyptian group, until they blended with other groups. I ended up being in company with Omaima and Zeynab, and both are Muslims by the way. I told you so. From then, they were the closest to me all along this wonderful road trip. The major clash of civilization was with STEPHANIE…       

​I am a Muslim from Egypt and Stephanie is a Lebanese who comes from a catholic background; thus, both of us were meant to differ. I come from a society that is absolutely the opposite of Stephanie`s. In Lebanon –I guess- the society is more diverse than Egypt. You cannot tell the difference in many cases between Muslim and Christian girls. The culture is almost the same, which is why you can see many denominations are -somehow- getting close to each other. This convergence is in matters that relate to culture not religion! Another reason is the western identity that Lebanon had fully and successfully adopted. Lebanon has borrowed nearly everything from the lifestyle of Europeans –not bad but not good either-. The society is more liberal and, in some way, decadent. On the other hand, Stephanie saw in my society one that is controlled by extremely conservative, righteously indignant, women oppressors, self-centered, etc. The situation in Egypt is different. Egypt is a majority Sunni Muslim country, while the Coptic Christians is a minority. The ethics and values are almost the same for both mainstreams. Egyptian Muslims cling very much to their Islamic heritage, as we - Egyptians – are religious by nature. Islam is deeply rooted in the mindsets of Egyptians, and with religious institutions like Al-Azhar, this love and appreciation grows even bigger. Components like religion and heritage shape the Egyptian society.         

During the program, we discussed many issues and topics. Among them all, Stephanie chose to argue with me specifically about friendship between a man and a woman. This was in Pendle Hill, Pennsylvania. Given my religious background, I believed –and still believe -that it is impossible to be friends with the other gender due to multiple reasons. I provided scientific researches and religious scriptures as well, but She was puzzled and asked herself '' how a man living in the 20th century could think like that? How dare you look at women like that? What is the status of women in your religion?'' She was agitated and since then she took it as her sole mission to convince me that it is OK to be friends with each other. Later on, she asked me to define the relationship between me and her. I said that we are colleagues, and apparently she was not satisfied with this answer. She wanted me to admit that we are friends- NO WAY-. In one occasion when we were visiting a Masjid and the girls were asked to put on a Hijab, Stephanie asked Zeynab to help her wearing it. For the record, I did not think Zeynab`s Hijab is the right way to put on a Hijab, so on seeing Stephanie`s Hijab, I was angry and said stuff I was not proud of. This was me imposing my religion on someone who is really trying to be open and tolerant with my religion and I was wrong. I really wanted her to experience the ritual as I saw it and I was very excited that they will have this experience, but things don't always go as they're planned.   

When she realized at some point that –for her- I am a conservative, she just asked me if I believed that she is not decent, I was shocked for I was not acquainted with such blunt in my previous little experience with the other gender.  I really do not remember my answer, but I can see her waiting for my answer and me stuttering looking for a right answer. Although my answer was diplomatic (as far as I can remember), but she did not like it and figured that I am trying to escape from such question. She believed that I now think of her the way she expected and unfortunately I did then. In the rest of the program, we were extremely opposite to each other in regard to ideas, beliefs and ideologies. We basically agreed that we are human beings, and disagreed with each other regarding everything else. We talked about God, whether he exists or not, also we talked about the prophet Muhammad and Jesus, judgment day, status of women, etc. In the early conversations we had, she used to yell at me. We both admitted that they were not civil conversations. We had similarities, but the scope of differences was much larger. It is hard for me to pinpoint the exact moment in which we decided that (Ok, let's agree not to disagree). One time I was talking to my friend in Egypt and he was seeking my advice concerning his future fiancée, I asked Stephanie if she has something to say and her answer did not match with my culture. I told him to ignore her cause she is a Lebanese (liberal, decadent and bad stuff), this word meant a lot and it came out spontaneously. She got mad agaaain and I was wrong as usual.

Another main event was when I had a seizure and was carried to the hospital. Actually, I cannot express how worried my friends were to the point that some of them cried. I still remember me lying on the ground, Othman lifting my legs, and Zeynab pushing against my chest in order to kill me or help me breathe (cannot tell). I did not see Stephanie, probably because she was weeping in the backstage. This incident showed me the amount of appreciation they hold for me. After that you can say she got soft on me, because I am sick and she was afraid that I would probably have another seizure during one of our conversations.

Stephanie was everything I hoped I am not in the beginning. She is so liberal; our culture is not the same, etc. At the end I hoped that this program would never end and that she will continue to teach me though. Her qualities especially her acceptance and tolerance with me were magnificent. I admit I had wronged her many times. I did not realize how cruel am I until she told me after we finished the program. One time I yelled at her because she was about to enter the swimming pool, while we -guys- are in it. She was upset but she can`t help but forgive me. I was a hard man to deal with, I know. I learned from her in these journey qualities like forgiveness, tolerance, caring, and many more. Through the journey, she never stops worrying about me or asking me to just go out with her -cool- group for once. Her sense of motherhood was her keynote character, Long story short, that is how two ends of spectrum had met.   

Summer Reflections About the Meaning of Christmas

7/1/2019

by Leonard Swidler, dialogue@temple.edu

About timing: I find Christmas a most enjoyable time of the year—cool but not miserably cold. July, on the other hand, can be miserably hot and humid. So, why not think about Christmas in July?!

About location: Two of the most Christmas-decorated cities I have ever experienced were not New York, Paris, or some other Western city, but Tokyo (a Secular/Buddhist/Shinto city), and Kuala Lumpur, overwhelmingly a Muslim city)—and neither of them had a “White Christmas” while I was there. So, why not enjoy a reflection about cool Christmas in hot Philadelphia in July?

If we are going to talk about a particular subject, probably the first thing we should focus on is the “meaning” of the subject. What we are going to focus on today is Christmas. The first thing to note about Christmas is that the word in English refers to celebration of the “Mass at Christ-mas” time. However, if we look at the name in different European languages, we find  that the name used is quite different. For example, in German, the term is Weihnachten, which literally means “Holy Night.” In Latin, the name used is simply, Dies Natalis, “The Birth Day.” Noel in French is derived from Natalis, and hence also simply means “birth.” Looking at all the different names for Christmas, interesting as it may be, nevertheless, does not tell us very much about what we are focusing on.

Of course we are focusing on the celebration of the birth of Jesus of Nazareth. We might ask, “What is so important about the birth of anybody? In fact, the birth of a new human being seems to always create a sense of awe, and positive feelings in general. So, in this case, we are dealing with the firstborn child of an unimportant, presumably, very young woman (in that culture girls usually married at 14!). However, even with the birth of such a seemingly unimportant baby, it makes one think of a later saying in Jewish writings, the Talmud, where it is written “Whoever saves a single human life, it is as if he saved a whole universe.” (Mishnah: Aboth Rabbi Nathan 31) It is also interesting to note that the same idea, and almost the very same words, were also many centuries later attributed to Mohammad: “Whoever saved a human life shall be regarded as saving all mankind.” (Qur’an: 5:32). Thus seen: Every person’s birth, and death, are each a whole universe!

What brings us to focus on the birth of Jesus is, of course, what happened with him in his ensuing 30-some years, and even more than that, what has happened in the 2000 years since then.

Jesus grew to adulthood in the area that today we call Galilee, which is a part of present-day Israel. Now we should remember that Galilee was thought of as rather second-class Judaism by the inhabitants of Judea. In any case, he apparently grew to young manhood, and as young boys in the Jewish world at the time, he studied the Scriptures. He seems to have done so in an extraordinarily deep manner.

How do we know this? Because there is a passage in the Gospel of Luke which relates how Jesus along with his mother and father went to Jerusalem for a large celebration, and when his father and mother returned to their home, they walked separately—Mary the mother with the women, and Joseph the father with the men. It is related in Luke’s Gospel that after a day’s journey the mother and father met again, each one assuming that Jesus was with the other one. When they discovered that he was not with either of them, they returned to Jerusalem and spent apparently quite some time searching for him. When they did finally find him, it is recorded in the Gospel that he was discussing deep religious issues with the rabbis. My suspicion is, that among these rabbis were quite possibly the leaders of the two major rabbinical “schools,” namely, Hillel and Shammai. Luke records that the rabbis were extremely impressed with the knowledge of the scriptures on the part of 12-year old Jesus. As one might expect from anxious parents, it is noted that Joseph and Mary scolded Jesus, saying that he caused them a great deal of anxiety. However, Jesus is reported to have said something rather imperious: “I must be about the work of my father.”

Luke also notes at that point that “Mary kept all of these events in her heart and pondered upon them.” This line suggests quite strongly, that Luke as a writer of a Gospel, one way or another had access to these thoughts that Mary pondered in her heart. The chances are that Luke never met Mary herself (Luke’s Gospel was written about 85 C.E.; hence Mary would have been over a hundred!), but somehow had access to things that she may have said to others, who then wrote them down eventually.

Might this “Proto-Evangelist” have been Mary Magdalen (to whom the risen Jesus first appeared and commissioned to “instruct the apostles”), or Mary of Bethany (who “chose the better part and sat at the Master’s feet…. ”)? The chances that Mother Mary could read and write are quite slim. Such was not expected of young girls in that culture, or in hardly any cultures, for that matter!

Of course, Luke must have had access to some of the experiences and thoughts of Mary, for he is the one who most of all writes about them. As I said, we have no idea about how he had access to the sources, whether they were spoken and he just heard them from living persons (who would have been quite elderly), or that they had been written down, and he had access to the written material.

In any case, as we know, Jesus grew to manhood and in the process he must have learned to read and write and studied with the rabbi's, for at one place in the Gospels it is written that he was invited to come to the front and read from the Scriptures at the synagogue service in Galilee, after which it is also recorded that the people spoke among themselves, asking “Where did he get all that knowledge? Is he not the son of Joseph, a Carpenter?”

An interesting question to ask at this point would be, “Who might have been the rabbis that Jesus studied with, there north of Judea, in the province of Galilee? Well, we have evidence elsewhere that both Shammai and Hillel had spent time teaching in Galilee, and that Hillel, the older of the two, died around the year 10. We also know that Jesus probably as born around the year 4 BCE. That would mean that, if the dates are reasonably accurate, Jesus would have been 14 years old when Hillel died. He would certainly have been old enough for him to have been studying with Hillel for two years or more. As far as Shammai is concerned, he lived several decades longer than did Hillel.

Whole libraries have been written about Christmas and about Jesus. May this brief reflection add a few details to the reader’s reflection at Christmas time in July. 

Relational Holism

5/7/2019

by Ilia Delio

Medieval writers had a great sense of the cosmic whole.  Since God is One and all things in heaven and earth are created by God, heaven and earth must be One as well.   Everything in the larger world, the universe, is contained in the smaller world, the human, and everything in the smaller world, the human, is in the larger world, the universe.  Thomas Aquinas had a deep sense of the whole as the interrelated order of creation.  The good of the whole creation is like a stain glass window of many colors, he claimed, because the good that is lacking in one creature is made up by the good of another.   Bonaventure also spoke of the Body of Christ like a cosmic stain glass window, a coincidence of opposites, in which the distinction of one entity mutually affirms another, since what is not found in one thing is found in other.    
 
These medieval insights are not far from what modern science is telling us today about physical reality as relational holism. There is a mutual complementarity in nature, a holism that baffles scientists.  The German philosopher Immanuel Kant said that the whole is an integrative relational structure in which there is a constant interplay of parts. While the whole provides a certain stability, it is not a fixed form but a dynamic pattern that changes constantly. Since the whole is refigured as parts change, whole and part are codependent and coevolve. [1]  
 
Quantum physics is widely seen today as exhibiting some sort of holism.  At the beginning of the twentieth century, scientists such as David Bohm and Karl Pribam speculated on wholeness in nature and developed elaborate theories to explain wholeness as a function of consciousness. Physicist and philosopher Carl Friedrich von Weizsäcker said that taking quantum mechanics seriously predicts a unique, single quantum reality underlying the multiverse. In our everyday existence, it is difficult to see how we can be part of a reality that is an indivisible wholeness, without parts and divisions; the only way we can understand this is to acknowledge the presence of consciousness in the universe as an intrinsic aspect of all things in space and time.  The consciousness that permeates nature is the same flow of activity that each of us inherits in a unique way.  In and through our minds we are part of an undivided whole that is our home, the cosmos. 
 
Arthur Koestler proposed the word holon to describe the hybrid nature of sub-wholes and parts within in vivo systems. A holon is something that is simultaneously a whole and part. [2]  From this perspective, holons exist simultaneously as self-contained wholes in relation to their sub-ordinate parts, and dependent parts when considered from the inverse direction.  Koestler defines a holarchy as a hierarchy of self-regulating holons that functions first as autonomous wholes in supra-ordination to their parts, secondly as dependent parts in sub-ordination to controls on higher levels, and thirdly in coordination with their local environment.  
 
Cosmic holism leads me to think of nature as a “seamless garment” of life in which mind, matter and nature’s ability to change, its plasticity, are integral to life.  Nature is an interlocking network of systems, an “unbearable wholeness of beings” as Steven Talbott writes. [3]  Nature is more flow than fixed. “The body,” Talbott states, “is a formed stream.” [4]  Structures once stably formed, do not necessarily stay that way. Many of the body’s structures are more like standing waves than once-and-for all constructed objects. Organisms show a meaningful coordination of activities whereby a functioning and self-sustaining unity engages in flexible responses to the myriad stimuli of the environment.  Nature is a choreographed ballet, a symphony, whereby every organism is dynamically engaged in its own self-organization, pursuing its own ends amid an ever-shifting context of relationships.  Such self-organization is not a closed system or shut off from surrounding influences but just the opposite.  Self-organization is maintained by openness to the environment, to spontaneity and to new patterns of order. 
 
We humans are part of a cosmic relational whole, nature’s interlocking wholeness of intricate systems.  In fact, if we understand what science is telling us, we are more “holon” than individual.  We humans have the ability to know this wholeness in such a way that we can reflect on it and act toward it.  We act according to the Whole when we have a consciousness of belonging to an interrelated whole.  We stifle or crush the whole when we are unconscious of it or refuse to acknowledge our reality of wholeness. Albert Einstein was something of a mystic who had profound insight on nature’s wholeness as he wrote in one of his letters:   
 
A human being is a part of the whole called by us universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feeling as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest to us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. [5] 
The path to relational holism is the mystical path to Oneness or Unity, which is why the mystical traditions are so essential today.  There is no one way to the Whole; rather there are infinite ways to wholeness. Different teachings on how to travel from isolation to wholeness can be found across traditions.  We have mystical teachers of the East such as Rumi and Mansur al Hallaj and mystical teachers of the West such Thomas Keating and Cynthia Bourgeault.  While their teachings may differ, their insights are like a stain glass window of complementary opposites. Each teaching in a sense makes up in one what is lacking in the other, so that the brilliance of the whole can only truly be seen through interspiritual unity. 
 
Mystical teachings can never be systems of power over and against one other. If a mystical teacher seems defensive of his or her position or self-enclosed in one’s doctrine it may be because she or he has been deeply grasped by the power of the One or God.  A person who has had a profound experience of God will speak from a deep center of knowledge, a center of passion, where the heart sees more deeply than what the tongue can tell. Finding the words to express the ineffable experience of God is a constant struggle because no language can adequately describe the experience of Oneness in love. 
 
Teilhard de Chardin had a genuine commitment to the living whole, the vitality of God embedded in the dynamic structures of evolution. Because of this absolute oneness he was confident that the universe has a future, an anticipation of flourishing life in a unity of love. The whole universe is in formation, Teilhard said, developing as one cosmic Person, which Raimon Panikkar expressed as the cosmotheandric experience.
 
Perhaps the fear of what seems like competitive teachings could be allayed by a conversation together, something like the World Parliament of Religions.  Those who come together in the name of Oneness or love and genuinely seek unity together as complementary opposites, often leave the gathering as a new whole body of being-in-love. For the body is truly one; although we are many parts we are all parts of the whole. 

 
Notes
[1]  Mark Taylor, After God (University of Chicago), 315 – 316.

[2] For a discussion of holons see Cannato, Radical Amazement, 94 -102; Judy Cannato, Fields of Compassion:  How the New Cosmology is Transforming Spiritual Life (Notre Dame, IN:  Sorin Books, 2010);Ken Wilbur, A Theory of Everything (Boston:  Shambhala Publications, 2000).

[3]  Steve Talbott, “The Unbearable Wholeness of Beings,” The New Atlantis:  A Journal of Technology and Society.  https://www.thenewatlantis.com/publications/the-unbearable-wholeness-of-beings.
 
[4]  Talbott, “The Unbearable Wholeness of Beings.”  
 
[5]   Walter Sullivan, “The Einstein Papers: A Man of Many Parts,” New York Times Archives, March 29, 1972.   https://www.nytimes.com/1972/03/29/archives/the-einstein-papers-a-man-of-many-parts-the-einstein-papers-man-of.html. Sullivan writes:  “One of the most poignant exchanges in his role as a philosopher came when he was 70 and living in Princeton. An ordained rabbi had written explaining that he had sought in vain to comfort his 19‐year‐old daughter over the death of her sister, “a sinless, beautiful, 16‐year‐old child.”

My SUSI Experience

4/30/2019

by Omaima

"Have you ever had any friends from different religions or backgrounds?" that was one of the questions I was asked during the interview for SUSI and my answer was a sad "no". I didn't think much of it then because I was scared to death about the whole thing but when I got back home, I thought to myself: why don't I have friends who are different from me instead of founding every friendship on a checklist of commonalities that I have with a person? As a matter of fact, I even thought it'd make less qualified for the scholarship because, after all, I was applying for the Religious Pluralism program and possibly going to one of the most diverse countries in the world, the United States. Little did I know that all was about to change.

           My name is Omaima, a Muslim Egyptian student of Al-Azhar University and this is how it all began. On the first day in Washington, I remember being terrified waiting for my roommate to arrive, the door opening in slow motion and the most dramatic soundtrack you could imagine playing in my head. Then, she entered; the first lifelong friend I've made there, Zeynab. Once we started talking, I had the weirdest feeling that we've met before. She just felt so familiar to me and she was really easy to talk to; we just clicked. I can't express my gratitude for every time I had her as a roommate as she has been a "sista" to me right by my side whenever I need her ever since. From that moment onward, each time I had a new roommate, it was getting exciting rather than intimidating.

           It's very difficult to choose a favorite moment from this whole experience as I enjoyed the sessions- well, most of them- and the site visits. However, my favorite moments were the close conversations I got to have like that night at Pendle Hill, a favorite place of mine. Baraa, Maria, Zeynab and I had a conversation on the differences between Shi'a and Sunni, between Muslims and Christians and many other things. I was fascinated by the fact that no fighting or shouting took place in that conversation; it was just a group of people discussing their ideas and expressing their opinions but on top of all, we were truly listening to one another without jumping to conclusions. Another unforgettable moment is the conversation Maria, Zeynab and I had at our room in Washington. This conversation was more intimate and we shared some of the things that we hadn't talked about before. I have to admit that both of them were trying their best and never running out of ways to keep me awake but all through the drowsiness I still managed to remember this moment and I will cherish it forever. Honestly, the list could go on and on because each moment with these wonderful people was a blessing.

           Fast forward to our last night together: in the midst of crying my eyes out, I couldn't help but wonder: how am I going to wake up one morning without seeing Zeynab and us being late for everything? How am I not going to go across the hall to Maria's room where she would welcome me with the most radiant smile and endless enthusiasm? How would I spend my day without meeting Baraa; laughing and talking together about the most random things? How would I bear another day without the company of Mahmoud, laughing at the jokes that he and John made and enjoying their incredible singing skills? Who would tell us more than we need about "his majesty" and the royal family? How am I not going to see Jana, Christelle and Aseel? Getting to know these people didn't just break stereotypes and help me know more about their backgrounds and religions but it also helped me discover a whole new side of me I didn't even know existed. If someone said to me eight months ago: "You would be travelling to another country on your own and doing zip lining and white water rafting", I'd have probably said: "Wrong Number!" Nevertheless, I was able to survive with the help and support of these extraordinary people on every step of the way, even the smallest things like doing the bottle-flip challenge.

           ​I'd like to share one of the major takeaways I've had from this experience, beside all the new information I learnt. I found that the key to pluralism isn't in seeing past the differences but in recognizing, highlighting and celebrating them and appreciating what distinguishes every individual from the other along with respecting the boundaries that every person has set for themselves and not trying to change others to our own liking. The fact is every person should treasure their individual identity without feeling the need to justify or apologize for their set of moral values or principles and in doing so we create diversity.

           Allow me to end this article with a few words to my dear friends: I can't believe that it's been almost a year since I last saw you but I'm grateful for the small utopia we've created together and I'm thankful for the light you filled me with. For as long as I live, you will have a special place in my heart and I will always remember.

A Dreamy Reality: My SUSI Experience

4/9/2019

by Christelle Barakat – Lebanon

Where do I begin when it comes to describing my SUSI experience?      

I have been known to enjoy partaking in discussions, dialoguing and writing and yet words are now escaping me.            

             ​SUSI in my eyes can be best described as a dream. A beautiful dream that began with me being nominated by the U.S. Embassy in Beirut to partake in the program, that continued throughout the 5 weeks I spent in the U.S. and that I did not fully believe was a reality till I returned back to Lebanon and reflected upon the mesmerizing time in the land of freedom.               

             Majoring in Political Science and International Affairs, whilst minoring in conflict analysis and resolution, legal studies and gender studies, SUSI truly exceeded my expectations in terms of the knowledge that it has contributed towards my specializations. Indeed, it was truly an eye-opener for me as it helped me establish links between interfaith dialogue, conflict resolution and peace studies, with the aforementioned being areas that I am extremely passionate about.        

        Furthermore, the in-class lectures, workshops, site visits and guest speakers each had something to add to my personal growth as a human being and sharpened my critical thinking skills. I have learned so many versatile elements about Islam, Christianity, Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Unitarian Universalism, Baha’i and other religions within the world.

             Moreover, I would have never imagined that I would be able to visit the U.S. institutions that I had studied about in books and seen in videos around a year prior to SUSI. It honestly felt surreal to be sitting in the House of Representatives and the Supreme Court and to have stood next to the national statues of the most prominent figures that have marked and shaped U.S. history.      

             Last but not least, each day was a new experience and each experience was abundant and unique in its own way when it came to acquiring knowledge. That said, I found inspiration all around me: in people, in monument, in the starry sky of Western North Carolina, in the Martin Luther King sites and in the Center for Civil and Human Rights in Georgia, in front of the Lincoln monument and at the Department of State in Washington D.C., in the religious monuments in Pennsylvania, at Asbury Park in New Jersey, at the top of the Empire State Building and inside the United Nations Headquarters in New York and within the United States as a whole. It is through all of these experiences that I was able to formulate my “dialogue rounds” action plan which I have been fine-tuning and creatively implementing after I got back to Lebanon.       

             All in all, within a state born out of multiculturalism and built based on coexistence, I got to interact with people from various beliefs, from different countries, with peers from Egypt, Jordan and Iraq, with scholars from all over the world, with brilliant staff whom I thank for their dedication and for ensuring that we felt welcomed and at home and with a host family that is wonderful beyond what words can express!        

             Andi, Mike, Brian, Jordan, Jake, Huner, Ken, Rebecca, Tony, Mer, Katie, Mr. Majid, Mr. Howard, Dr. Barbara, Dr. Swidler and all guest speakers, scholars, friends and inspirations that I have met: from Lebanon to the U.S., a big thank you from the heart!

My SUSI Experience

3/11/2019

by Shwan Hussein

My name is Shwan and I recently graduated from the American University in Sulaymaniyah, Iraqi Kurdistan with a degree in energy engineering. Kurdistan is home for many ethnic and religious groups, such as Kurds, Yazidis, Turkmen, Arabs, Assyrians, and each of these groups have their own religions. The Kurds are mostly Sunni Muslims, and a minority of them are Christians. Also, the Yazidis are considered as Kurds with few cultural differences. All of these different groups live in Kurdistan in peace. I was born into a Sunni Muslim Kurdish family in small hometown called Darbandikhan in Sulaymaniyah. Born into a family like this, your identity is set as a Sunni Muslim Kurd, and you are surrounded by typical Kurds like yourself without little understanding of other cultures and people different from yours. Although Kurdistan is a multicultural and diverse region, the communities have not much exposure to each other as the communities are separated. For instance, the Yazidis are mostly living in Sinjar and Bashiqa, and they are confined to these areas with little exposure to other people. After I was admitted to study my undergraduate study at the American University in Sulaymaniyah, I saw students from all different cultures, religions, and nationalities. It was a suitable environment to exchange ideas and interact with these new students, and it made us more aware of diversity eventually. As I mentioned earlier this was a small community and could not be seen in most places. While I was a senior in college, I applied for an exchange program call Study of the Unites States Institutes (SUSI) to study about religious pluralism in the States.
            20 students were accepted to participate in the exchange program in four countries; Iraq, Jordan, Lebanon, and Egypt. Students were selected from different backgrounds, and each were culturally different from one another. This experience was a lifelong opportunity to learn more about diversity and be more open minded. I would like to share with you how this experience was beneficial to me.
 I liked the idea of how the SUSI program brought together 20 students each coming from a society with different cultural values and made them into a family. They showed us it is possible to live together despite the differences we had with each other in identity. In fact, the thing that was least important to all of the students was our identity. We lived together for five weeks, but we made a lifelong friendship with each other. At the end of the program, I had the epiphany that our identities are like out clothes we wear every day, and they do not define us. Above all things, we are all humans, and the diversities make us more beautiful. It is not about which race or religion is superior. One thing that caught my attention was during a site visit we had to a mosque in Philadelphia. An Indian guy named Fazal was explaining the rituals and basically what was going on in the mosque every day. He gave an example of how they interact with the Jewish and Christian followers because the mosque was close to a synagogue and a church. He said that they invite each other to ceremonies and the important events. This is something that cannot be seen in Middle East. I am sure this example had an impact on each one of us. I can say that the program is worked based on the principle of “knowledge is power”. By participating in the workshops and the opportunity to have conversations with each other, they gave us the knowledge of understanding each other and realize our differences and made sure they are not a threat to our identity. We were led to find our common grounds and work from there to live in peaceful coexistence, and the program tried to build a bridge of mutual understanding among the students.  
            To immerse us more into the lifestyle of Americans, the 20 students were divided on the host families to spend a weekend with them. I spent the weekend with the Needleman family. This was a Jewish-American family living in Philadelphia. We received a warm welcome from them. I want to share how I felt after spending the weekend with them by sharing a letter I wrote for them and read for them, and I quote, “I could not appreciate more for the hospitality and the warmth welcome we received from the Needleman family. The weekend was gone like a second for me as we were kept entertained and satisfied the whole time with lots of activities and productive conversations. The Needleman family is like a door for me to see the decent life and quality of American families in general and the American Jews specifically. Lastly, I want to thank you for your warmth welcome and hospitality.”
            Speaking of meeting with new and brilliant people, I came across a young, kind, generous, and talented Kurdish guy called Huner. He is a citizen of the United States, and we bonded within three hours as if we were friends for a long time after we met for the first time. A funny thing about meeting for the first time was that after three hours, we went to the train station to pick up a Jordanian Journalist, and she asked us how we met. Huner told her guess for how long we have known each other, and he gave her three choices three years, two years, and one year and three months. She said one year and three months, we laughed and said in fact it is been three hours we have met. I think there are two main reasons we made a friendship that fast. The main reason was Huner’s personality. He was not like a typical Kurdish guy because he was more culturally open minded, and he was a good listener. When I expressed my thoughts on something he listened to me, and he answered accordingly. This also contributed more to my experience with the SUSI program. Another reason is that always people are attracted to their own type and like to spend more time with each other because we share almost everything in terms of history, cultural values, and language.