INTER FAITH REFLECTION BY VEN. DR. MICHAEL IPGRAVE

 

Why as Christians should we be interested and involved in inter faith dialogue? For me, this kind of encounter has been a thread of renewal running through 25 years of ministry as an Anglican priest, in Japan, in Leicester, for the churches nationally, and now in South London. I use the word ‘renewal’ because it has been my repeated experience that meeting in respect and trust with people of other faiths has enabled me to hear the Gospel afresh, and so to be led into new life. There are three motifs in particular which express this for me: ‘presence’, ‘connection’, and ‘hospitality’.

 

 

Anybody who has been part of a worshipping, praying and serving community in a religiously diverse community will know how deeply the buildings, rituals, and even personnel of our tradition are respected, even honoured, by others. When I was an inner city vicar in Leicester, I found that it was not uncommon for Hindus to come into our churches during the liturgy and join in prayer, or to venerate the images of the Christian faith. Patients of all faiths often seek out Christian chaplains in hospitals to request a prayer or a blessing, in the belief that the prayer of a holy man or woman will be efficacious for them. In the multi-Christian communities of South London, very many African churches meet for worship in a parish church rather than their own premises, not only for practical reasons of availability but because the church building is seen as a sanctuary of prayer and holiness.

 

Through such experiences, I have been awakened to a fresh sense of the treasures that have been entrusted to us. The tradition in which we are nurtured, the buildings in which we meet, the sacraments we celebrate, even the clergy who lead us – these are gifts we often take for granted, and at the same time regard as our own possession. It is profoundly humbling, and life-giving, to be reminded by others both of their life-giving value for us, and of their availability to all. Of course, relations are not always easy: the sanctification of time and place is a project for other faiths as well as our own, and buildings or public spaces can become contested between communities, as Jerusalem reminds us all too sharply. Yet our commitment to stay put in one place, to sanctify the life of a local community through prayer and witness, and in so doing to learn to value more deeply and share more widely the treasure entrusted to us – all this is a response to the incarnational logic that lies at the heart of the Christian story.

 

 

Just maintaining a presence is an insufficient response to the contexts of diversity in which our churches are located. As Christians, we need also to be engaged, both contributing to and drawing from the sources of energy in our societies. In some cases, those energetic forces will be channelled through the structures of religious communities; in others, they will be found in more flexible networks and groupings, which may yet draw inspiration and motivation from the values and beliefs of the world faiths. Churches and Christian groups which are showing new life are those which are open and flexible enough to work in partnership with others for the common good. I am reminded of the words of John Wesley in his wonderful sermon ‘On the Catholic Spirit’ (No. 34): ‘Although a difference in opinions or modes of worship may prevent an entire external union, yet need it prevent our union in affection? Though we cannot think alike, may we not love alike? May we not be of one heart, though we are not of one opinion? Without all doubt, we may.’

 

Wesley was talking about differences among Christians, but it is not hard to see how the force of his argument can extend beyond that to people of other faiths too. The conviction that we may ‘love alike’, even if we do not ‘think alike’ is forcible for anybody who has worked with people of differing beliefs on practical projects. Muslims and Christians go out on the streets of a northern city to raise funds together for people suffering as a result of the bombing of Afghanistan and at the same time of the attack on the Twin Towers; Hindus and Christians work together to reafforest an arid area of North India; people of all faiths campaign together to Make Poverty History. The combinations and the projects are many and varied, but they all lead us to reflect again on the values that guide us, to renew our commitment to the transformation of society, to evoke afresh our energy in the service of others; they open us up to the life of the Spirit to whom we are given over as Jesus’ people.

 

 

Nobody who has engaged at all with the realities of religious diversity in our cities can fail to be humbled by the exuberant hospitality they will so often receive. I have been repeatedly showered with gifts, relentlessly fed with huge meals, taken into the very hearts of people’s homes, exalted to positions of extravagant honour. A particular experience I have often had is that of taking a Christian group to a gurdwara, where of course we are invited to share in the common meal of the langar. When one of our party rises at the end to say thank you to our hosts for treating us so well, the reply will come ‘But this is the guru-dwara, the house of God, and of course all who com here will be guests of the divine hospitality’. On the way home, as the Christians discuss what would happen if a group of Sikhs were to turn up at their church one dark, cold evening, they are led to think more deeply about the imperative to show hospitality which lies at the heart of our faith. In the same way, the expansion of many of our churches by Christians from different cultures likewise challenges us to think more deeply about our ministry of hospitality as Christian communities. What is happening here is that we are being pointed again to a central theme of the Gospel through encountering the other: we are being re-evangelised through the other.

 

The challenges to the practice of hospitality are many and serious. Inviting others into our own space makes us vulnerable, and can make us defensive. Our guests may themselves be suspicious, fearful, hostile, as we may be when we are guests; and there may always be failures to reciprocate on either side. All these problems can only be overcome through the costly, sometimes painful, building of trust. As that trust is built, the distinction of host and guest gradually disappears, as it should do at any convivial meal. We realise that we are with one another as humans, as friends, as guests together of one divine host, the God and Father of us all.