I grew up with a bias towards my own culture and judged cultures and religions that were different from my own based upon this perspective. Since no one challenged my Catholic beliefs, I left home for college somewhat sheltered and mostly uninformed about other religions and cultures. While at college, I made new and diverse friends and I would bring these friends home with me. My father said to me when I left for college, whoever I bring home is always welcome at our table. My mother has eight years of formal education in a one room rural school house and has lived her entire life in the same community where she was born and raised Catholic. Several years ago, my mother spoke with profound eloquence and simple affection about my classmates and friends that she cooked for and fed around her kitchen table. She said she grew up prejudiced because she never met anyone who was Jewish or Muslim. But after providing a place for these guests at her table, she grew to respect and love them as much as her eight children did. She is grateful for having reached out to people of diverse backgrounds and religions. She taught us that it is around a table that friends are made and prejudices disappear.

My recent trip to Turkey refreshed these good memories around my mother’s kitchen table. It was an educational and cultural exchange program to meet with university professors and community leaders in Turkey to promote international and interfaith dialogue. The program was organized by a non-profit organization in St. Louis, MO named the Niagara Foundation, and I had the honor to be selected to join. My experiences in Turkey of sharing meals in the homes of university professors and their families opened my eyes to our common bond even though an ocean and religion separates us. It was around their family tables that I again was reminded what my mother taught us: that much of the prejudice that exists among different cultures and religions is because we do not invite others into our homes and cook a meal for them. Warm food and kind conversation have the capacity to create bonds that can erase prejudices.

I was expecting family homes in Turkey to be quite different from mine, but instead, amidst the slight differences in cuisine and not wearing shoes, I knew I was at home. The bountiful bean salads, stuffed peppers, seasoned couscous, lemon chicken, lamb, lentil soup, cucumber salad, baklava, and more all adorned my hosts’ tables. How I wanted my mother to experience this! So, upon my return home, I invited Muslim friends to her home for a meal around her table. It was a simple but significant meal that bridged two cultures and two religions as one.

Having this opportunity to interact intimately with Turkish families reminds me of the story of the prophet Abraham, the father of Jewish, Christian, and Muslim followers. He welcomed three strangers into his home. And because of his hospitality, he was blessed a hundredfold with a son, Isaac, who was promised to him and Sarah in their old age by the visitors who were angels disguised as men (Genesis 18: 1-15). As Abraham and Sarah’s son Isaac is a symbol of God’s generosity, so too the Muslim families are a symbol to me of the blessings that hospitality brings to peoples’ lives.

Traveling through Turkey, my appreciation for the people grew. From the sprawling city of Istanbul to the rural cities touching the Black Sea, I could see the similarities in lifestyle, just like in the U.S. The rural countryside appeared similar to my rural home, and as our bus traveled through the rolling hills dotted with wheat fields and small towns, it reminded me of home. Stopping at a gas station and communicating with local rural people who do not speak English, it was comforting how well we could understand each other without speaking the same language. A smile, a handshake, and a meal go a long way.

While in Istanbul, I enjoyed seeing the ripe watermelons and other fruits and vegetables being loaded into wooden carts and carried into the market. The urban markets in the U.S. are similar to the markets in Turkey, not in scale but in essence. Both possess an energy that tantalizes the senses, where a local harvest awaits to be tasted and savored at home. It’s as if time stands still among vendors and shoppers, bartering and engaging in rituals that have persevered and evolved over the centuries for generations. Whether in Turkey or the U.S., shopping in an open air market unites humanity in a common ritual that is at the heart of every culture: how we produce, purchase, and prepare our food.

The occasional neighborhood mosque blends in with Turkish urban life, and upon entering a mosque courtyard, I found luscious green space with colorful flowers bordering red tomatoes and green peppers, a quiet respite from gray urban life. Catholic churches often provide the same reprieve for busy urban residents and tired tourists who grow weary of the harshness of industrial life and the demands that city life places on them. Churches, synagogues, and mosques provide sacred places to pause and be refreshed, knowing that God is present in the most obscure and discreet corners of life. Perhaps this is one essential role that religion procured through the centuries: to provide shelter from the utilitarian survival rituals being play out around us. Whether church steeples, synagogue towers, or mosque minarets, all remind us to pause and remember that when our day’s work is complete, there is more to be aware of and more to count than the coins in our pocket.

During our time in Turkey, we visited several universities, which was a highlight for me. As a university professor and social worker, I was eager to meet professors and students to discuss their curriculum and scholarship. Our interactions were informative and engaging. While on campus, I was invited to attend the Friday (Jumu’ah) prayer services, the name of which is derived from the Arabic word that means “gathering.” Muslims believe to gather in one place as one soul is a pillar of their faith. I was deeply moved by the prayer, and felt united with the people in the room. It was an honor for me to be shown by a faculty member the ritual washing of the hands, forearms, head, and feet with a threefold movement of the hand. This Middle Eastern ritual is retained in the Catholic liturgy with the priest washing his hands prior to the Eucharistic prayer. The rinsing out the mouth, blowing out of the nose, and scrubbing out the ears reminded me of the Catholic ritual of cleansing the mind, mouth, and heart with a threefold movement of the thumb before the Gospel is read on the Sabbath. The sermon (Khutbah) was impossible for me to follow, but my host was gracious in whispering to me a translation. During the Catholic prayer service, we too stand and kneel throughout our prayer, being reminded that God is great (Allahu akbar). Although I did not understand the words spoken, my soul was refreshed and nourished by the ritual prayers.

When I was a young man living in a homogeneous culture, I did not seek to understand and appreciate what other cultures believed and practiced, nor did I challenge the beliefs of my ancestors. Today I embrace the faith of my ancestors from a different advantage point, having traveled and tasted other religions and cultures. This new vision is both a gift and a responsibility, which calls me to recognize the sacredness of the faith that has been handed down to me. Returning to the U.S., I brought with me the Abrahamic thread that unites all Muslims, Jews, and Christians in our quest to know and serve God. Each day I wrap my waist and my heart with this thread so that I might seek the intersections, both within and across each faith community. This is my responsibility, which I am learning from the Vatican II teachings of the Catholic community and the Hizmet (Gulen) movement in Turkey.

Riding in a boat on the sea that bisects Istanbul, I envisioned the Greeks, Romans, Byzantines, and Ottomans who sailed these same seas. This city is at the crossroads of human civilization, where war and peace have shaped people’s lives for centuries. I imagined Romans conquering this city and the Crusades trampling through it; I imagined the Ottomans achieving domination ach le an indelible cultural and religious mark on the fabric of this region and creating the culture we know today as Turkish.

The Niagara Foundation is bridging the vast expanses that separate the two continents, the two religions, the two cultures. I am confident that this effort will have immense consequences. In the memorialized words of Robert F. Kennedy, who in June, 1966, delivered the Day of Affirmation Speech at the University of Cape Town to the National Union of South African Students: “Few will have the greatness to bend history itself, but each of us can work to change a small portion of events. It is from numberless diverse acts of courage and belief that human history is shaped. Each time a man stands up for an ideal, or acts to improve the lot of others, or strikes out against injustice, he sends forth a tiny ripple of hope, and crossing each other from a million different centers of energy, these ripples build a current which can sweep down the mightiest walls of oppression and resistance.”

And so I, too, have newfound responsibilities since I have toured Turkey through the generosity of the Niagara Foundation. I pray for the courage to stand up for the ideals embodied in my Catholic faith, and to stand against injustices by embracing Niagara’s mission “to serve societal peace, love, and friendship wisely and compassionately in support of human dignity and the common good by striving to bring forth the common values of humanity; values such as understanding, tolerance, respect, and compassion.”

Gary Behrman is Adjunct Professor at Washington University in St. Louis

Answer: Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, prayed that his community not be completely eradicated from the face of the earth, that they not suffer from pervasive famine, and not be attacked by an enemy which could destroy the great majority of believers; he said that his wishes had been granted. Working from this hadith, we can say that his community will not be subjected to general destruction, nor will they remain under the sovereignty of others permanently. However, the Prophet also reported in the same hadith that a similar prayer that he made for God’s prevention of bloodshed and mischief among his community was not granted (Muslim, Fitan, 19/20).

As to why this last prayer was not accepted, it can perhaps be argued that what was asked for lies within the capacity of human willpower. Humans are blessed with reason and mental capacity. It is not congruent with human dignity to be herded to and fro or to be gathered here and there, against their will. Human beings can exercise their volition and seek the possibility to live together with others peacefully.

“We try (test) people through one another”

By mentioning repeatedly in a number of verses (An’am 6:53) that people will be tested through one another, God warns the Muslim community of this grave threat that might loom over them. God Almighty puts us in trial in a variety of ways; sometimes with illness, sometimes with misfortune, sometimes through our worship, and at other times with our vulnerability to sins. Trying some of us through other people is another means of testing. Every individual person is unique; God created each of us like a separate species in and of itself. We all have different personalities; no one is like another person. By creating every one so different God reveals the manifestations of His beautiful names and glorified attributes and thus puts us through a trial with a promise of a reward for those who are successful. This test requires acknowledgement of these differences in the nature of each person; it is with this awareness that everyone should seek ways to coexist, despite all our differences.

It is reported that Bediuzzaman Said Nursi once praised one of his students and his good skills in his writing to another of his students. He said: “His writing is better than yours.” Upon this, which was also a kind of trial, his student remarked that he was pleased to hear this; he showed no sign of discontent. Bediuzzaman realized that this student was truly sincere in his words. It may not be possible that everyone has the same level of ease at heart in the face of such a situation; we should not expect such a purity of conscience from all. Yet, it is still in our hands to control our behavior.

We should also never forget that a person who displays bad behavior is not necessarily a bad person in all their aspects. Labeling someone thus, especially if that person is an observant believer, is a distorted perspective and reflects one’s own contempt. Moreover, discrediting another believer in such a way means that the discreditor is actually the one who is on the wrong path; he or she might suffer a blow from that person, or a severe dispute might occur. So, instead of making an immediate judgment about another person, it is always best to think of a way to resolve the dispute and to come to terms. The person who takes the first step and apologizes for what has happened can be considered to be a hero. Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, also points out that when two people are angry with one another, the virtuous one is the one who makes the first greeting (Bukhari, Adab, 62). The following verse in the Qur’an enjoins believers as follows:

Goodness and evil can never be equal. Repel evil with what is better (or best). Then see: the one between whom and you there was enmity has become a bosom friend. (Fussilat 41:34)

In contradiction of divine commands

I deeply regret and sometimes feel great sorrow when such weaknesses and lack of integrity surface, despite the above-mentioned divine instructions and warnings. It is not uncommon to come across two people, who normally meet each other at spiritual gatherings and discuss issues related with belief, becoming involved in a dispute. This means that such people are unable to perceive the resentment and hatred that is directed towards believers, and the plots that have been devised by antagonist circles obsessed with enmity; these can obstruct many good services. If these plots against and resentment towards believers are trivial matter, then what is significant for them, that their honor and pride were not regarded? So for us, is it truly the case that the denial of God and His Messenger is not a major issue, but a word uttered unfavorably on our behalf is more important?!

What do we value most? We should be aware of the attention that we give to frivolous matters which we unnecessarily overvalue at the expense of many issues of greater magnitude. God has blessed us with reason, and even beyond that, with belief and the ability to comprehend. So, it is imperative that we analyze how people fall out, albeit they share countless common denominators in belief and values. They believe in the same Creator, the same Sovereign, the same Lord, perhaps even follow the same Messenger and religion, and turn in the same direction for prayer; they may even live in the same country and are committed to the same lofty goals, treading on the same path… Hundreds of shared values should unite people, but we may still fall in dispute over matters that are as insignificant as the wings of a fly. If someone curses me, this does not give me the right to respond likewise. For Bediuzzaman, retaliation is a cruel principle.

“If for God the world was worth the wing of a fly, unbelievers would not be allowed to drink even a drop of water” (Tirmidhi, Zuhd, 13). The world is so insignificant that the unbelievers are allowed to drink. If this is the real value of the world, then what significance can some repugnant worldly issues have for friends who fall apart? Can this ever be reconciled with reason?

It is also reported from Hafiz-i Shiradhi that “the world is not a commodity worth disputing.” I believe that no one would consider this to be an exaggeration. Yet, how much are we reflecting this truth into our lives? Thinking over all these, I cannot help but ask myself “for what purpose are we reading, keeping ourselves busy with the Qur’an and the practice of the Prophet, or with the analysis of marginal matters?” Why are we wasting our time quibbling over such matters if they do not help us reach human perfection?

I am sorrowed by those who do not forgive

All of us need rehabilitation; we need to reflect on our integrity and revise our humanity. This is necessary for all of us. It is easy to overemphasize trivial matters and start the gossip that lies at the tip of our tongues; minds and pure hearts are tarnished with the tar of gossip.

Let me give you an example of how important this issue is: if a friend gets up from their seat and leaves the room, and if I infer in my mind or comment openly on this, saying, “I think he is overwhelmed by sleep too much, so he leaves the gathering to sleep somewhere else” he might be hurt if he were to hear this. What would befall me is to ask for his forgiveness the very first moment I came across him. Gossip is a grave sin. Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, says that gossip is worse than adultery on the grounds that God can forgive the adulterer if he repents and is determined not to commit the sin again. Nevertheless, a gossiper has to ask forgiveness from the person he or she has gossiped about as well as from God (Bayhaqi, Shuabu’l-iman, 14/255). Gossiping about a person who has a large following might result in a grave sin, for it violates the rights of all those people who admire that person. This is a very delicate matter. Unless we deem what God Almighty enjoins as significant as being significant, then many trivial matters will replace them.

We have serious faults in our belief; it is certainly imperfect. We have huge gaps in our commitments to the basic tenets of belief, both at a personal and social level. We seem not to possess perfect belief in the existence of God and His all-encompassing presence, nor in the fact that His will is superior over all other things, nor in the Hereafter where we will account for all we have done in this world.

I am disappointed with and deeply sorrowed by behavior that does not suit a true believer; indeed, for any weakness in this regard. I am heart-broken by my friends who are unable to forgive one another, by those who seek the errors of others, and by those who keep record of others’ sins like the Angle Scribes, and by those who ignore the good deeds performed by others.

Let us not allow any feelings or thoughts that might damage fellowship to enter even our dreams. If we believe, then let us be prepared to honor even the evil-doers and embrace those who have turned their backs on us. Let us make it our life principle to be without hands against those who strike us and without speech against those who curse us.