Colorado Muslim Society, B’nai Chavurah begin a dialogue — sometimes friendly, sometimes angry

A new phenomenon called “twinningism” came to Denver last week, bringing messages of harmony, tolerance and shared social action — as well as one or two reminders why such inter-ethnic cooperation might be needed in the first place.

As part of a national effort to bring Americans Jews and Muslims together for prayer services and a shared commitment to fight anti-Semitism and Islamophobia, Denver’s version took place Nov. 21 at the Colorado Muslim Society, the combined mosque and community center that serves as headquarters for Denver’s Muslim community.

It was part of a national “Weekend of Twinningism” effort, the product of last year’s National Summit of Imams and Rabbis in New York. The summit was sponsored by the Foundation for Ethnic Understanding, chaired by Rabbi Marc Schneier, chairman of the World Jewish Congress American Section.

Denver was one of 50 communities across the US to participate in the first-ever program.

Joined by a group of his congregants, Rabbi Stephen Booth-Nadav of Congregation B’nai Havurah was the Jewish community’s point man in this first experiment at inter-communal “twinning.”

Rabbi Booth-Nadav took part in two services at the mosque and then addressed a social hall nearly filled with listeners, mostly Muslims, who paid very close attention to what he had to say.

The rabbi was a logical choice for the assignment. Known for his long advocacy of reaching a peaceful solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and his open-minded and liberal approach to Judaism, Rabbi Booth-Nadav stressed precisely those themes in his talk at the Muslim Society.

“May we soon see in our time the end of all that divides us,” is how he began.

The rabbi emphasized that in theological terms there is much more that naturally unites Muslims and Jews than what divides them. He used a teaching from the Koran to say that all humans were created as equals by G-d, but were given “different paths to G-d” in the form of differing religions.

“The reason for all this division,” he explained, “is so that we can all get to know each other.”

The Torah and Koran agree, Rabbi Booth-Nadav emphasized, that what is most important in human beings is not their specific religion but whether they honor G-d and His word. Both books agree, he said, that all human beings were created in the image of G-d.

“Imagine how it would change the world if all of us, when we see each other coming down the street, said, ‘Here comes the image of G-d.’”

It is an ideal that is seldom realized in modern America, the rabbi acknowledged. Jews, like most Americans, know very little about Islam and Muslims.

Their opinions, he said, are often influenced by media reports of terrorism which usually provide little context and convey the impression that extremist Islam represents the entirety of the religion.

Rabbi Booth-Nadav related how he has worked to study Islam and many of its texts and — even more important — how he has formed close friendships with Muslims, both in Denver and in Israel. Through them, he said, he has learned.

The oft-used Islamic phrase “Allahu Akbar” used to be “a scary thing for me to hear as a Jew,” the rabbi said, since most Americans tend to hear the phrase only when it’s used as the cry of a terrorist.

In reality, Allahu Akbar — which means “G-d is great” — is an ancient Islamic blessing in praise of G-d, and has nothing to do with terrorism or extremism.

“I came to hear Allahu Akbar differently,” the rabbi said. “Can a rabbi say G-d is great? Of course I can, and why would I want to let such a beautiful phrase at the center of a beautiful religion be taken by crazy people?”

Terrorist Muslims represent Islam no more than terrorist Jews represent Judaism, Rabbi Booth-Nadav stated. Such people “hijack” their faiths and do not represent them.
Jews have a special responsibility, he told his listeners, to stand up for Muslims when they are stereotyped or discriminated against.

“We Jews have known for centuries what it’s like to be a tiny minority in a culture that is dominated by fear,” he said. “If anyone should know to stand up to Islamophobia today, it should be Jews.”

Their long history with anti-Semitism, culminating with the Holocaust, should make it plain to Jews that, “we can’t stand idly by when it’s happening to other people.”

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Graciously thanking the rabbi for his “wise words,” Imam Mohamad Altabaa then encouraged his followers to ask questions, in the spirit that words can be used to bring Muslims and Jews together and thus allow them to learn from one another.

That’s when it became apparent that Colorado’s first try at Jewish-Muslim twinning was going to be about more than milk and cookies.

Almost all of the questions focused on political, not religious, issues, and some of them were generously peppered with anger.

The first question, from a middle-aged Muslim man, was asked civilly. It was about whether such inter-religious gestures as this could actually contribute to solving the Israeli-Palestinian crisis.

With Imam Altabaa standing by his side, but taking little part in responding to the questions, Rabbi Booth-Nadav called the twinning only “the beginning of a conversation,” a means by which Jews and Muslims can establish meaningful personal relationships which might, eventually, lead to something more substantial.

Another questioner was interested in the rabbi’s view of how the Jewish belief that Israel is the Promised Land impacts on today’s territorial disputes in the region.

At first, the rabbi was willing to give an inch or two on the issue, acknowledging the belief as “a source of conflict,” and characterizing it not as a political or historical concept, but a spiritual belief over which some practical flexibility is possible.

While stating his firm belief in a two-state solution to the territorial dispute, however, Rabbi Booth-Nadav held his ground in indicating that Palestinians have to be receptive to peaceful Israeli overtures.

For example, while many Jews were hopeful that the Gaza withdrawal would be seen as such an overture, and might be reciprocated by Palestinians, they were disappointed. Critics of the withdrawal, who called it an irrational decision, were proven correct, he said.

“Israel gave up Gaza and it’s gotten thousands of rockets,” the rabbi said, “so it’s a problem.”

Another question — asked by a Muslim woman from the balcony reserved for women above the main floor — was about Israel’s food and fuel blockade of Gaza, and was delivered in angry words.

Did the rabbi support such collective punishment? she asked.

He does not support the blockade, Rabbi Booth-Nadav replied, but he does understand why Israelis feel compelled to resort to such measures.

Another angry person stood and challenged the rabbi to personally issue a “moral condemnation” of the blockade.

In reply, the rabbi cited his work in rabbinical human rights groups which have actively protested such practices.

Imam Altabaa then stepped in, offering his own opinion on the Gaza confrontation. The imam had no problem issuing his own moral condemnation of the blockade — and telling his listeners that he was outraged by it — but he reminded them that “the whole world is watching Gaza and doing nothing about it, including the Arab world.”

His implication seemed to be that it was pointless to place such demands solely on Rabbi Booth-Nadav, who is largely sympathetic in any case. He then asked the audience to move away from the political sphere into the religious.

One man responded to that call. Identifying himself as neither a Muslim nor a Jew, but simply as a person interested in religion, he asked whether Muslims and Jews worship the same G-d.

“Yes we pray to the same G-d, we worship the same G-d,” Imam Altabaa replied, “which is why we need to work together in peace and
harmony.”

Rabbi Booth nodded his assent.

A final question came from a soft-spoken young Muslim man, who wondered whether Jews and Muslims might find common ground in working together in “other parts of the world,” rather than the Middle East, combating poverty and ignorance.

The imam and the rabbi agreed that this was a most excellent suggestion with lots of intriguing possibilities.

Rabbi Booth-Nadav took it a step further, suggesting that Muslims and Jews should find a common voice in condemning all forms of hate, extremism and terrorism, and use this joint voice to speak loudly and clearly to the media.

Just as the conversation finally seemed to be heading in a constructive direction, the imam looked at his watch and advised the Muslims in the hall that it was just about time to go to the mosque for evening prayers.

Before they filed out, the audience gave the clergymen at the front of the room a round of polite applause. The clapping was not auspicious, but respectful, and a little tentative perhaps — not unlike the dialogue that had just been born.