Lessons Learned

In India and many Asian countries, people greet each other by folding their hands and bowing their heads. This same gesture is also made during prayer, and I recently learned what it signifies. 

The five fingers are each slightly different in size and shape, but they are all touching, and the thumbs are pointing upwards towards God. This symbolizes the unity of all people, no matter how different, on a spiritual level. When you bow your head, you are greeting the soul within the person opposite you, a piece of God that resides within that person. It is a a great sign of respect to look at another person and recognize that they are a part of God.

This summer at IFYC, I met people who truly try to live out the ethic behind this common gesture. It is clear that people in this office respect each other on many levels. They respect each other’s opinions and time in the office. On a more personal level, they respect each other’s faiths and feelings. I have met people in IFYC who happily offer their time and advice to me and others.  They have taught me the importance of giving of myself to a cause, whether that cause is a movement or a single person.

I have also learned the importance of reflection and honesty this summer. I rarely take time to think about where I have been and where I am going. By writing blogs and my story, I was able to reflect on my faith journey and my time at IFYC.  By hearing other interns’ reflections, I grew close to them. What struck me most when hearing the other stories was the storyteller’s honesty. I know it was hard to share parts of my story, as it was for the other interns. But it was therapeutic to hear some harsher aspects of reality verbalized.

Finally, this summer I learned what makes a movement. A movement is more than a vision and a mission. People and passion make a movement. And I don’t think it is easy to spread true passions to others. It is a difficult job, and in my case, everyone at IFYC succeeded.

So I want to thank everyone at IFYC for a great summer. I began this summer disheartened by what I considered a weak and divided world. I am leaving here with more confidence and ambition. I thought peace and harmony were just words, and that the reality was that ”might was right.” But I am not disheartened any more when I see the great divisions and inequalities in the world. Strength comes in numbers, and the ranks of people working to build communities based in equality, justice, and respect are multiplying.  I am proud to join in with these people who are reshaping this world.

United we Stand

On loving my neighbor

Jesus said to love your neighbor as yourself, and I think he meant it. I try, I often fail (probably multiple times a day). I try again, I fail again. It’s a never-ending cycle, but somewhere in that rise and fall my heart grows a bit and then I am more capable of loving. Always imperfect, but continually filled up with more love. I think this might be what they call grace.

I love my friends who are not Christian just as I love my Christian ones.  Why would I love them any differently? They are all my friends.

At least I thought I loved them all the same.

A few weeks ago, for the first time in my life, I thought about what it meant to be non-Christian in a predominantly Christian environment.  I read “Towards a Multifaith Community at Wellesley College” by Victor Kazanjian, and an uncomfortable realization began to creep over me.

I have often contemplated what it would be like to not be Christian, but I have never contemplated what that means in a predominantly Christian environment. For example, I understand that someone might not celebrate Christmas, but what does it feel like when everyone else is? I realize now why most of my teachers were so insistent in grade school about including songs from the holidays of other traditions in our winter holiday programs.

My college is much like Wellesley; both are women’s colleges traditionally affiliated with Christianity. As Chaplain Kazanjian described all the lingering symbols, traditions, and values associated with Christianity at Wellesley, I began to see a mirror image of my school.

I thought my campus was secular and neutral, and thus not offensive or oppressive to anyone. But now I know that my experience is only one part of a multifaceted story.

Are my friends who are not Christian comfortable on my campus? What was it like for my Jewish friend Lauren during her first-year orientation, when she saw that the only worship service that weekend was a Christian one? What is it like to see a huge Christmas tree in the dining hall for weeks on end? How does it feel when the gorgeous, newly –built chapel on campus is proclaimed to be a Christian space that also welcomes people of all faiths?

I don’t know how it feels.

I am sorry I have never talked to you about your faith and what it means to you as you live out your life.

Personal faith has long been a topic I have approached gingerly, having been taught that it is not a subject to be brought up in polite company. This summer, though, I have talked about it. A lot. I have told my story and listened to others’ stories. I have asked questions I thought were silly, and my friends have answered them, always patiently.

Now I want to know the rest of the story of what it means to be religious on my campus.  I cannot love my neighbor completely without knowing my neighbor, and I cannot know my neighbor until I know about what moves their heart and motivates them. Can I really love someone if I do not know about something so close to their heart?