DEBORAH POTTER, correspondent: St. Nikolai Evangelical Lutheran Church hasn’t changed much since the sixteenth century. Bach once played the organ here, and the music is still a draw. But on this day the tourists have come to hear about the church’s more recent history from the man who led it through a difficult time. Christian Fuhrer became pastor here in 1980, when the world outside the church was divided by the Cold War and Germany was split in two, most visibly by the wall the East German government built in Berlin in 1961. The Communist state was determined to keep more of its people from escaping to the free West. In the German Democratic Republic—the GDR—atheism was the norm. Churches like St. Nikolai were spied on, but stayed open.

PASTOR CHRISTIAN FUHRER (in translation): In the GDR, the church provided the only free space. Everything that could not be discussed in public could be discussed in church, and in this way the church represented a unique spiritual and physical space in which people were free.

Pastor Christian Fuhrer

POTTER: In the early eighties, Fuhrer began holding weekly prayers for peace. Every Monday, they recited the Beatitudes from the Sermon on the Mount. Few people came. But in the late eighties, as the Soviet Union opened up to the West, more East Germans began to demand change, including the right to leave, and in Leipzig they gathered at St. Nikolai, which proclaimed itself “open for all.”

PR. FUHRER (in translation): The special experience that we had during the years of peace prayers and then with this massive number of non-Christians in the church, which was exceptional, was that they accepted the message of Jesus.

POTTER: As a college student, Sylke Schumann was one of the hundreds and then thousands who joined the vigils in the sanctuary and marched in the streets holding candles.

SYLKE SCHUMANN: Seeing all these people gather in this place and then from week to week and more and more people gathering, you had the feeling this time really the government had to listen to you.

POTTER: In October 1989, on the 40th anniversary of the GDR, the government cracked down. Protestors in Leipzig were beaten and arrested. Two days later, St. Nikolai Church was full to overflowing for the weekly vigil. When it was over, 70,000 people marched through the city as armed soldiers looked on and did nothing.

PR. FUHRER (in translation): In church people had learned to turn fear into courage, to overcome the fear and to hope, to have strength. They came to church and then started walking, and since they did not do anything violent, the police were not allowed to take action. They said, “We were ready for anything, except for candles and prayer.”

SCHUMANN: I remember it was a cold evening, but you didn’t feel cold, not just because you saw all the lights but also because you saw all these people, and it was, you know, it was really amazing to be a part of that, and you felt so full of energy and hope. For me, it still gives me the shivers thinking of that night. It was great.

POTTER: Just one month after that massive demonstration, the wall between East and West here in Berlin came down. The church had sent a powerful message: the East German government no longer controlled its people.

The joy and relief on that day 20 years ago became reality thanks in part to the effort of one tenacious pastor and what he describes as his firm faith in this teaching of Jesus:  “Blessed are the peacemakers.”

PR. FUHRER (in translation): If any event ever merited the description of “miracle” that was it—a revolution that succeeded, a revolution that grew out of the church. It is astonishing that God let us succeed with this revolution.

POTTER: Fuhrer, who retired last year at age 65 as required by his church, has written a book about those historic days. St. Nikolai itself has gone back to being a parish church, its congregation not much larger than before. But Fuhrer says he didn’t do what he did back then to draw people to the church. In his words, “We did it because the church has to do it.”

For Religion and Ethics Newsweekly, I’m Deborah Potter in Leipzig.

In East Germany, the church provided the only free space in connection with the groups—people who wanted to discuss topics that were taboo, such as the refusal to serve in the army, military education. Everything that could not be discussed in public could be discussed in church, and in this way the church represented a unique spiritual and physical space in East Germany in which people were free.

Here [at St. Nikolai Church in Leipzig] we have said peace prayers since 1981 and every Monday since 1982. That was something very special in East Germany. Here a critical mass grew under the roof of the church—young people, Christians and non-Christians, and later those who wanted to leave [East Germany] joined us and sought refuge here.  The church became a very special place, and in particular the Nikolai Church, which we could describe like this: the church was finally on the side of the Lord, on Jesus’ side. In other words, it was on the side of the oppressed and not on that of the oppressors, with the people and not with those who had the power. The special experience we had here was that the people accepted Jesus’ message, especially the message of the Sermon on the Mount. We experienced in a very special way that everything that is written here is true. If you don’t believe, you won’t stay. The “comrades” did not believe, and they did not stay. “Not by might, nor by power, but by my spirit.” “He pulls the powerful from their throne and lifts up the poor.” “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.” We experienced it just like that—the church as a refuge and a place for change, Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount, no mention of paradise and redemption, but the daily bread in the reality of political hopelessness.

Pastor Christian Fuhrer

The special experience that we had during the years of peace prayers and then with this massive number of non-Christians in the church, which was exceptional, was that they accepted the message of Jesus. They grew up in two consecutive atheist dictatorships. They grew up with the Nazis who were preaching racism, the master race, prepared for war, and replaced God with Providence, as Hitler liked to say. They also grew up with the Socialists preaching class struggle and vilified the church by saying Jesus never existed, that’s all nonsense and fairy tales, legends, and your talk about nonviolence is dangerous idealism; what counts is politics, money, the army, the economy, the media. Everything else is nonsense. And the people who were brainwashed like this for years and grew up with that. The fact that they accepted Jesus’ message of the Sermon on the Mount, that they summarized it in two words—no violence—and the fact that they did not only think and say it, but also practiced it consistently in the street was an incredible development, an unprecedented development in German history. If any event ever merited the description of “miracle” that was it: a revolution that succeeded, a revolution that grew out of the church, remained nonviolent, no broken windows, no people beaten, no people killed—an unprecedented development in German history. A peaceful revolution, a revolution that came out of the church. It is astonishing that God let us succeed with this revolution. After all the violence that Germany brought to the world in the two wars during the last century, especially the violence against the people from whom Jesus was born, a horrible violence, and now this wonderful result, a unique, positive development in German history. That is why we are so happy that the church was able to play this role and enabled this peaceful revolution.

The most important thing for us was the power of prayer, which is still true today. We are not praying to the air or to the wall, but to a living God. We did not pray for the wall to come down. It was more comprehensive: [We were praying] for peace, justice, and the preservation of our creation. We addressed the very specific needs of human beings in our prayers, and God has blessed those prayers in such a way that nobody could have predicted. We went on, step by step. It got bigger and bigger, and in the end the prayers prevented us from drowning in fear and gave us the strength to face the opposition outside. In other words, more and more protests came from the church and spilled onto the street, combined with the strength that we got from our faith. The fear was very powerful, but our faith was more powerful than the fear, and the prayers gave us the strength to act. That is still the same today.

What motivated me was Jesus’ saying “You are the salt of the earth,” which means that you must get involved; you cannot stay in your church. You must get involved in this situation; the salt must be inserted in the wound, in the place that is not in order, that is sick. That’s where you must go. This thought to get involved in politics is a thought that Jesus already voiced in the parable of the Good Samaritan. Someone is beaten and lies there, those who beat him are gone, and now two people coming from temple are approaching, are looking the other way and walking away. Jesus says that they are guilty, not because—they did not do anything, they did not beat him, but they did not help him. If we just leave the world alone and do not get involved, we are just as guilty as those two, as Jesus said in that parable, who looked the other way and did not want to hear about it. You must get involved, because you are the salt of the earth.

St. Nikolai Church

[Dietrich] Bonhoeffer really impressed me with his philosophy in approaching the atheist, the non-Christian, with the Christian message in a way that is easy to understand. I first learned that from Jesus—the simple language. Jesus did not speak the language of the temple, but the language of the people. He talked about the mustard seed, the farmer, the worker in the vineyard, the jobless who are waiting in the marketplace, hoping to get hired. Those are all things that people can understand, and then he introduced the message of God’s love into this clear language. And Bonheffer said that we should apply Jesus’ language in such a way that it can be understood even if you were not born into the Christian tradition or into a Christian household. That was really impressive. In addition, the examples impressed me very much, the fact that people applied the Sermon on the Mount one-to-one. First, to put Christians to shame, it was a non-Christian and Hindu who did it: Mahatma Gandhi. Very much in the spirit of the Sermon of the Mount, he engaged in nonviolent resistance and freed his people from British colonialism, but gave his life for it, as did Jesus. He was shot in 1948. The second one was, thank God, a Christian: Martin Luther King. He prepared and executed this idea of nonviolence, peaceful resistance, in a wonderful way. It was a very tense situation, and the fact that it was possible for an African-American to become president of the United States today even exceeds Martin Luther King’s dream. Then it became our turn to apply the teachings of the Sermon of the Mount here in Leipzig. But you cannot forget to mention Nelson Mandela and Bishop Desmond Tutu. They have always impressed us. We felt that we were walking together with them to fulfill Jesus’ legacy.

The police were always very violent, especially on October 7th when they beat hundreds of people. With this violence they wanted to prevent people from gathering here, here in the church and on the plaza. They gradually increased the amount of violence, but achieved the opposite of what they expected. Especially on October 9th, they had created such a frightful scenario that they thought people would not dare show up here. Instead, even more people came. In church people had learned to turn fear into courage, to overcome the fear and to hope, to have strength, as I mentioned before. That was very important, and during those years and in particular during this frightful time, people overcame their fear. They did not bring their children, because you had to fear for your life. The children stayed at home. They came to church and then started walking, and since they did not do anything violent, the police were not allowed to take action. “We were ready for anything, except for candles and prayer,” they said. If the first group had attacked the police, the police would have known exactly what to do. You can see it on TV every night how police and armies react to demonstrators. That did not happen, and the officers and generals called Berlin and asked what they should do, but they did not get any instructions. Those in Berlin did not say anything, the officers here did not do anything, and thus the movement that did not result in any violence, as the people learned in church, began to spread, and that is when the following became clear in East Germany: This is the beginning of the end of East Germany. It cannot go on, the people got what they wanted. Peace prayers were held all over the country. When they saw the images from Leipzig on October 9th, they started demonstrations everywhere else. The crowds became larger and larger, and then [Erich] Honecker handed in his resignation, and on the 18th the politburo resigned. On November 9th, on this very important day, on this day the wall was overcome from the East. Those are experiences that you cannot learn in college, and I would like to summarize them as follows: the Nikolai Church was open to everyone. The church was open to all people, no matter if they were Christian or non-Christian. The next thing is that throne and altar do not belong together. That is a huge mistake that the church made during the past century. No, the street and the altar belong together, just as Jesus did not hide in the temple, but was mingling out in the street, in the houses and on the plazas. We as a church must go into the street and let the street come into the church. The church must be open to everyone. We can teach nonviolence as a practical application of the Sermon on the Mount, turn swords into ploughshares as in the Old Testament, open to all, as mentioned before, and we are the people. We have to learn to have a certain self-confidence, overcome fear, find our voice once again in church, approach bad situations with this self-confidence, be able to make changes within society, reject injustice, and refuse to go along, and I think what is important in all of that is the power of prayer. Without prayer we would not have changed anything, we would not have been able to overcome fear, we would not have had the strength to change things and to take the message of the Bible seriously, being able to interject yourself into a social reality, finding the message of Jesus and the Bible and applying it to the current situation, not uttering long sentences but finding the right word for the right situation, knowing how to act. For me the main criterion for action was: What would Jesus say in this situation? Then I came to the conclusion that we needed to do it the same way he would have done it.

The role of the church did not diminish, at least not here in the Nikolai Church. It continued. Huge protests against the war in Iraq, peace prayers involving many people to save jobs…It continued, but under different social circumstances. However, there are always certain peaks, unique times, such as October 9th. It was a peaceful revolution which was a unique process. You cannot expect that it will go on like that every day. What this revolution aimed to achieve was indeed achieved, and then people stepped back. The important thing to remember is that we did not do that to get people to join our church, but because it was necessary. That is what Jesus did as well. When he provided help, he never asked if that person went to the temple or if that person said all his prayers. He just realized that this human being needed help, so he helped. That is exactly how we did it. We never said “but you must return the favor,” the way it is done in politics and in the world. We created something, and the blessing continued for the people. The most important thing is that the church has to remain open. Whenever people need the church again, in everyday life or in very specific situations, they should find the church open. The church should be there for the people, the way Jesus intended. An inviting, open church without the expectation that people join; an inviting, open church offering unconditional love, just as Jesus did, and [we must] act in this spirit.

Photos by Suzanne Opton

Originally published November 30, 2007

War is, in some ways, the ultimate spiritual crisis.

By its very nature, it requires participants to perform acts that would be considered legally and morally wrong in civilian life. “Your whole life, regardless of religion, you’re told, ‘Don’t kill, don’t kill, don’t kill.’ Then all of a sudden it’s, ‘Here’s a gun.’ It’s hard to reconcile that,” says Linda McClenahan, a Dominican nun, trauma counselor, and former Vietnam Army sergeant who lives in Racine, Wisconsin.

In a 1995 study, 51 percent of veterans in residential post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) treatment in a Veterans Affairs facility said they had abandoned their religious faith during the war in which they fought. In the same study, 74 percent of respondents said they had difficulty reconciling their religious beliefs with traumatic war-zone events. Battle creates moral confusion, and it can leave a soldier spiritually as well as physically wounded.

Unlike many other traumatic experiences, combat can cause “moral pain” arising from “the realization that one has committed acts with real and terrible consequences,” according to a seminal 1981 article in PSYCHOLOGY TODAY by Peter Marin. He was writing about Vietnam, but his overarching thesis could be applied to any military conflict. Profound moral distress is the “real horror” of war, yet its effect on those who fight is rarely discussed.

The difficulty of talking about the spiritual wounds of war was apparent in October when the Episcopal Society of St. John the Evangelist in Cambridge, Mass., announced a four-day retreat at its monastery called “Binding Up Our Wounds,” for men and women returning from places of war. Nobody showed up.

A November report published in the Journal of the American Medical Association underscores the magnitude of the problem. After they return from combat in Iraq, one-in-five active-duty soldiers need mental health care. For reservists, the numbers were even higher: Two out of five need treatment. And one 2004 study concluded that veterans who avail themselves of mental health services appear to be driven more by guilt and the weakening of their religious faith than by the severity of their PTSD symptoms.

“In a war, in a firefight, you’re both victim and perpetrator at the same time,” says the Rev. Alan Cutter, general presbyter of southern Louisiana for the Presbyterian Church (USA) and a former Navy officer who served in Vietnam. “At its heart, a trauma, and especially a war trauma, leaves a wound to the human spirit. When I came back, my spirit was pretty well shredded and ripped.”

Marin wrote that moral pain or guilt erroneously remained a form of psychological neurosis or pathological symptom, “something to escape rather than learn from,” and he alleged that therapy failed to take moral experience into account. More than a quarter-century later, many experts feel little has changed.

“Once the category of PTSD was established in the early ’80s, that swallowed the veteran whole,” says William Mahedy, an Episcopal priest and former Army chaplain who has spent 33 years working with veterans in southern California. “Combat creates far more wide-ranging problems than stress.”

It’s not just the act of taking a life that raises the kinds of questions Mahedy says can only be addressed spiritually and philosophically. Witnessing death and suffering also goes to the heart of life’s meaning: Why did God, if there is a God, allow this? Why is killing the enemy not a sin? How can I be forgiven? Why couldn’t I save my comrade? Why am I alive when I don’t deserve to be? Psychology isn’t always equipped to answer such questions.

“Trauma can be characterized as a sense of betrayal of one’s experiences: life wasn’t supposed to be this way,” says the Rev. Jackson Day, an Army chaplain in the central highlands of Vietnam from 1968 to 1969 and now the pastor of Grace United Methodist Church in Upperco, Maryland. “The faith parallel to that would be the statement, ‘God has let me down. I did my part, and God didn’t do his.’”

In his book ACHILLES IN VIETNAM (1995), clinical psychiatrist Jonathan Shay explored combat trauma through a close reading of the ancient text of the Iliad and his own experiences treating Vietnam veterans with chronic PTSD. Those with lifelong psychological injury, he argued, had suffered a betrayal of “what’s right” — of leadership, trust, the dead, the social and moral order — above and beyond war’s “usual” horror and grief. Those whose belief in God’s love was shattered by war suffered another betrayal: their worldview and sense of virtue were obliterated.

In Shay’s follow-up book, ODYSSEUS IN AMERICA (2002), he used Homer’s Odyssey to look at returning troops whose spiritual wounds incurred on the battlefield can fester and worsen at home. The conviction that virtue is no longer possible, given God’s abandonment, can result in a withdrawal from moral commitment.

Medical-psychological therapies, Shay wrote, “are not, and should not be, the only therapies available for moral pain. Religious and cultural therapies are not only possible, but may well be superior to what mental health professionals conventionally offer.”

In an interview, Shay, whose work at the Boston VA outpatient clinic has been primarily with Roman Catholic patients, elaborated. “My sense is that this is a fundamentally religious issue. It’s possible to package it as a mental health issue, but I think we lose out. Even people who have had good secular treatments for their trauma still feel a need for the religious dimension of it. I don’t think as a society we’re offering it.”

VA research suggests that veterans who have suffered a greater loss of meaning to their lives are more likely to seek help from both clergy and mental health professionals. Therapists, however, may hit a roadblock with treatment when they feel out of their depth on spiritual or religious matters, and most clergy are not trained in trauma response.

But all faith traditions offer resources to respond to trauma, such as the Catholic sacrament of penance and reconciliation, of which confession is a part.

One of Shay’s patients was ordered by his lieutenant to “take care of” 17 Viet Cong prisoners, an order he interpreted as “kill them.” His squad was reluctant, and so he began firing first, even egging the others on. What weighed most heavily on his conscience years later was not his crime, but his belief that he had led others into mortal sin. “My response was that we knew a number of priests who had been chaplains in war and who knew what this was about,” Shay says. “This is about the real stuff, not the sins you confessed to in parochial school, but murder, cruelty, rape. [Your faith] has the resources to respond to that in a way that will matter to you.”

What matters to one won’t always matter to another. It depends on what faith, ritual, sacrament, or person you have invested authority in, says Rabbi Harold Robinson, a retired Navy rear admiral and the current director of the JWB [Jewish Welfare Board] Jewish Chaplains Council. As a chaplain, Robinson found that the study of Jewish texts on war and self-defense served as a powerful resource in addressing spiritual injury. “I think you invest more of yourself when you try to study and understand something,” he says. “By grappling with the text you’re also grappling with yourself. It’s an interactive process, not one that’s just imposed.”

Other chaplains have used Psalm 23, which famously portrays God as a patient shepherd, or Psalm 31, whose speaker calls himself a “broken vessel,” and they ask where veterans see themselves in the psalm. Even people who are not religious might be open to the psalms, according to Major Samuel Godfrey, an ordained minister in the Pentecostal Holiness Church and a chaplain in Iraq for the Combat Aviation Brigade, 3rd Infantry Division. Shareda Hosein, an Army Reserve lieutenant colonel and the Muslim chaplain at Tufts University, lists several passages from the Qur’an dealing with Allah’s forgiveness and guidance that she says she might use in counseling a Muslim soldier — from Sura 39, for example, which promises mercy for those who repent: “Say: ‘My servants who have transgressed against themselves! Despair not of the Mercy of Allah, verily Allah forgives all sins. Truly, He is Oft-Forgiving, Most Merciful.’”

In early medieval Europe, warriors returning from battle were expected to feel shame, even when their killing was technically licit. A 9th-century penitential, according to THE MORAL TREATMENT OF WARRIORS IN EARLY MEDIEVAL AND MODERN TIMES by Bernard Verkamp, “stipulates that the man who is blameless in committing homicide in war should nonetheless seek purification, because of the shedding of blood, and stay away from the church for one or two weeks, and abstain from meat and drink during the period.”

For the ancient Hebrews, too, the shedding of blood was considered a source of contamination. The Book of Numbers dictated a seven-day period of segregation outside the camp for returning warriors and mandated the purification of fighters and their garments.

As founder of the International Conference of War Veteran Ministers, Father Phil Salois, a Catholic priest and chief of chaplain services for the VA Boston Healthcare System, has developed ecumenical liturgies incorporating verse by World War I poet and soldier Wilfred Owen, Bible readings, and prayers written specifically for services of reconciliation and healing. “I think it’s about redemption, to bring back meaning in their lives,” says Salois, who served as an infantry soldier in Vietnam. “We try to teach them God loves them no matter what happened to them. There is nothing that is unredeemable.”

Some Jewish veterans use the mikveh, or ritual bath, in their search for a rite of purification and rebirth. The Birkat Hagomel, a public prayer of thanksgiving (”Praised art thou O eternal God ruler of the universe, who has redeemed with kindnesses those who are guilty, and who has redeemed me with all manner of goodness”), can also be recited before a Jewish congregation by someone who has survived a life-threatening situation. The prayer requires a communal response affirming redemption. “Afterwards, it entitles everybody in the congregation to go up to you and say what happened to you? Are you OK? And to make human contact out of that moment,” says Rabbi Robinson.

But Robinson questions whether a truly communal purification ritual is possible, suggesting that the separation between those who serve in the military and those who don’t is too wide to bridge meaningfully, and there is no consensus about where purification finally resides. Is it with the doctor and the psychiatrist, or with the priest and the rabbi?

Yet community involvement is something Shay feels is crucial to the whole notion of a purification ritual. “It’s not a matter of pointing a finger at the returning vet,” he says. “It’s that we all need purification after battle. You have gone into danger and done some things that perhaps were truly terrible, but you’ve done them in our name, and it’s we who sent you to do those things.”

Some returning veterans experience great feelings of isolation, and communal rituals can offset their sense of aloneness and provide them with an opportunity to talk about their experiences. As Captain Jeffrey Cox, a Massachusetts National Guard social worker who returned from a tour of duty in Iraq in 2006, puts it, “Does anyone…know my story outside of the people I’ve served with?”

As the recent experience of the Episcopal monastery in Cambridge demonstrates, for those who have served — and will serve — in Iraq and Afghanistan, it may be a long time before anyone hears their stories. Salois recalls a Chicago retreat where four couples canceled the day it began. That was the first retreat a young Iraq veteran had attended. “He was very focused on what we said about our experiences [in Vietnam] and how we journeyed throughout the years. When it came time for him to speak, he said, ‘I appreciate everything you’ve said, but I’m not ready to talk about it.’ And I thought, well, it was 13 years before I started talking about this.”

“One can hope that the rest of us will accompany them when we can and follow them when we should,” Peter Marin wrote of the nation’s war veterans. Their recovery, we may need to learn again, is a collective responsibility.

Benedicta Cipolla, a writer in New York City, has also written for Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly on Iraq, the ethics of torture, and Reinhold Niebuhr.

KIM LAWTON, correspondent: The Nobel citation praised what it called President Obama’s “extraordinary efforts” to strengthen international cooperation between peoples. It said his vision is founded in hope and the concept that “those who are to lead the world must do so on the basis of values that are shared by the majority of the world’s populations.” At the White House Friday (October 9), Obama called the award “a call to action.”

PRESIDENT BARACK OBAMA (speaking at the White House): These challenges can’t be met by any one leader or any one nation, and that’s why my administration’s worked to establish a new era of engagement in which all nations must take responsibility for the world we seek.

Obama at the United Nations

LAWTON: Obama began sounding those themes during the 2008 presidential campaign. He captured global attention with a speech in Berlin.

PRESIDENT OBAMA (speaking in Berlin): In Europe, the view that America is part of what has gone wrong in our world, rather than a force to help us make it right, has become all too common. No doubt, there will be differences in the future. But the burdens of global citizenship continue to bind us together.

LAWTON: After Obama’s election, he began changing the tone of American rhetoric on the world stage, emphasizing cooperation rather than confrontation, and then in June, his dramatic speech seeking a new relationship with the Muslim world:

PRESIDENT OBAMA (speaking in Cairo): One based on mutual interest and mutual respect and one based upon the truth that America and Islam are not exclusive and need not be in competition. Instead, they overlap and share common principles, principles of justice and progress, tolerance and the dignity of all human beings.

LAWTON: And just last month at the United Nations, Obama invited the world community to join in helping him to make his vision a reality.

PRESIDENT OBAMA (speaking at the UN): For the most powerful weapon in our arsenal is the hope of human beings…the belief that the future belongs to those who would build and not destroy; the confidence that conflicts can end and a new day can begin.

ABERNETHY: Kim, and the reaction from the religious community?

LAWTON: There’s been a lot of reaction from religious groups, really across the spectrum, many of them praising Obama but also noting that a lot of work still needs to be done to achieve this vision that he was awarded for. Archbishop Desmond Tutu, the Anglican archbishop, himself a Nobel winner, said that it shows that Obama has really changed the temperature of the world, and everybody, he said, is more hopeful. The Vatican also praised Obama, noting his commitment to peace in the Middle East and also his fight against nuclear weapons.

ABERNETHY: And that is becoming more and more favored by a lot of people in the religious community, isn’t it?

LAWTON: There seems to be a lot of momentum in the religious world around that issue. Obama has been talking a lot about ridding the world of nuclear weapons, and we’ve seen movements—Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams—but interesting to me even in the evangelical community. Evangelicals are calling this a pro-life issue, and so there is a movement for their campaigning against nuclear weapons as well.

ABERNETHY: And a lot of people have been saying, haven’t they, that this is an award not only for what—for the tone that has been created so far, but also and particularly for what might be ahead.

LAWTON: Exactly, and it’s interesting to me that Obama has really included the religious community in that work, and every single one of his speeches on the international stage, where he talks about creating this vision of a new world, he explicitly mentions religion and the fact that he wants to see religion not be a force for division and violence, but for peace, for bringing people together and for sharing common values for the good of the world.

ABERNETHY: Kim Lawton, many thanks.

BOB ABERNETHY, anchor: It’s a common observation that one of the most important paths to peace between enemies is to learn to see others not as demonized stereotypes, but as unique human beings. When she was in the Middle East last month, Kim Lawton learned about the Parents Circle-Families Forum — Israeli Jews and Palestinian Muslims who have lost loved ones in their long conflict but have learned to replace hate with reconciliation, even friendship. Here is Kim’s special report.

KIM LAWTON: Since the establishment of the state of Israel in 1948, Palestinian refugee camps in the West Bank have been hotbeds of unrest and often scenes of angry confrontation between displaced Palestinians and Israeli soldiers. Because of the continuing military and political conflict, few Israeli civilians ever venture in. But don’t tell that to Rami Elhanan. On this day, he and his wife Nurit have come to the Dheisheh refugee camp near Bethlehem to visit their friend, Mazen Faraj. It’s is an unexpected friendship. Both have lost family members in the conflict. Yet their grief has brought them together.

MAZEN FARAJ: Today it’s our responsibility for our children and for our families to build something new.

RAMI ELHANAN: We put a crack in this wall of hatred and fear that divide these two nations, and we show another way. We show another possibility. We show the ability to listen to each other’s pain, which is essential if you want to get to any kind of reconciliation.

Mr. FARAJ: This was the first room for our house.

LAWTON: Faraj has lived in Dheisheh his entire life. During the early part of his childhood, fifteen people in his family lived in this one crowded room.

Mr. ELHANAN: This is the place he’s always talking about—that you don’t need someone to hate you to teach you how to hate when you grow up in a room like this.

LAWTON: In April of 2002, there was a violent confrontation between Israeli soldiers and Palestinians fighters outside Bethlehem’s Church of the Nativity, the site where Christian tradition holds that Jesus was born. Palestinian fighters holed up in the church, and Israeli soldiers laid siege. During a lull in the fighting, Faraj’s 62-year-old father went out to Jerusalem to get groceries. He was shot and killed by Israeli soldiers.

Mr. FARAJ: He got killed in April 2002 when he was coming back from Jerusalem to Bethlehem. The Israeli soldiers, they started shooting him and without any reason. No one can kill his soul. They succeeded to kill his body, but without his soul. His soul’s still around us and give us like the power every day, how to keep going in our lives.

LAWTON: But there is great pain on the Israeli side as well. Elhanan had 14-year-old daughter, Smadar. Of four children, she was the only daughter, and the family had called her “the princess.” On September 4, 1997, the first day of school, Smadar went to a popular shopping area in Jerusalem.

Mr. ELHANAN: And she went down the street with her girlfriends to buy new books for the new year. Two suicide bombers blew themselves up, killing five people that day, including three little girls. One of them was my 14-year-old Smadar.

LAWTON: Elhanan says he was overwhelmed by anger and despair.

Mr. ELHANAN: It took me almost a year to understand who I am, to try to recover, and to understand that I have to choose a way for myself and translate these feelings of anger and despair into something constructive and create some hope out of it. And I joined the Parents Circle and I found a meaning for my life.

LAWTON: The Parents Circle-Families Forum was launched in 1995 as a way to bring bereaved Israelis and Palestinians together. The group now has several hundred participants who’ve lost immediate family members because of the violence in this region. Organizers believe it’s the only project of its kind in an area where conflict is still ongoing. The nonprofit group sponsors face-to-face dialogue meetings for bereaved family members and public lectures about reconciliation.

Mr. ELHANAN: The minute I saw in that meeting the first bereaved Palestinian families as human beings I was completely shocked. It was the first time ever in my life that I meet Palestinians as human beings after so many years of demonizing each other. So this was the turning point.

LAWTON: Faraj, who was dealing with his own feelings of anger and revenge, went to one Parents Circle meeting where Elhanan spoke.

Mr. FARAJ: And it was this man talking about his suffering and his pain, too. But I told him, “What do you know about suffering and pain? You just live in Jerusalem. ou are Israeli, you are the occupier, you are everything.” And then he starts to talk about his daughter, and then really I found out that, whoa, it’s the same pain.

LAWTON: The two men became close friends. Elhanan was drawn by Faraj’s humor.

Mr. ELHANAN: He’s the only guy in the world that makes me laugh.

LAWTON: Faraj couldn’t believe that Elhanan was willing to visit him in the refugee camp. They built a deep mutual respect.

Mr. FARAJ: He’s just a human being, and you can deal with him in an easy way, and you can build a discussion with him with easy way, and you can build the fight also in easy way, too. But the most important thing’s that he’ll respect the other.

Mr. ELHANAN: What he’s doing needs a lot of guts, and his ability to face the world, tell his truths after all the things that he’s been through, I think it’s admirable, and I really respect him for it.

LAWTON: Faraj and Elhanan started doing joint lectures for the Parents Circle.

Mr. ELHANAN: We use this enormous respect that the two societies have for people who paid the highest price possible to convey this message, to convey the message of dialogue, of reconciliation, of peace.

LAWTON: Elhanan and Faraj have given more than 1,000 joint lectures in Palestinian and Israeli schools. They say most of the kids have no idea that Palestinians and Israelis can be friends.

Mr. ELHANAN: If there is only one kid at the end of the class who nods his head with acceptance to this message, we saved one drop of blood. According to Judaism, this is the whole world.

LAWTON: The Parents Circle is nonsectarian, but is supported by several Muslim, Christian, and Jewish groups. In 2008, Catholic Relief Services brought Faraj and Elhanan on a speaking tour across the United States.

BURCU MUNYAS (Program Manager, Catholic Relief Services): They are giving a message of hope in the midst of hopelessness in the Holy Land. So we thought that this would be a strong message to bring to our US Catholic audiences.

LAWTON: For their part, Elhanan and Faraj try to keep the focus on relationship, not religion.

Mr. FARAJ: It’s the important things that we don’t want to make this conflict like a religion conflict.

LAWTON: Their work isn’t always easy. Both men have received sometimes strong criticism from within their respective communities.

Mr. ELHANAN: People tell me that I’m a traitor or a — but I think more people are impressed by my ability to translate the pain into hope.

Mr. FARAJ: I really believe in what I’m doing and — but not all the people they really accept that, but anyway, if you believe in something you have to continue.

LAWTON: Parents Circle supporters hope these relationships can be a model for others, which they believe will help further the political peace process.

Ms MUNYAS: By building trust with each other they become more and more ready to trust the other side, to compromise, and to tell their leaders that they are ready, that they can move ahead, they can compromise, and they can sign the peace agreements.

LAWTON: Faraj and Elhanan agree.

Mr. FARAJ: We have a different culture, a different religion, and different, also, conditions on the ground, too. So how we can find a way? This the problem. It’s not about that’s it, I found the solution for the conflict. No. But the first step, we have to know each other.

Mr. ELHANAN: I devote my life to go everywhere possible to tell the very simple truth that we are not doomed. It’s not our destiny to keep on killing each other, and we can stop it by talking to one another — that simple.

LAWTON: Simple in theory, much more elusive to work out. But they hope their relationship proves it is possible. I’m Kim Lawton in the West Bank.

Rabbi, welcome. How do you explain to yourself and to your children and to your congregation what happened at the museum?

Rabbi SHMUEL HERZFELD (Ohev Sholom, Washington, D.C.): Well, sometimes there are acts that have no explanation, that are so difficult to understand. But we have to try to explain. I myself was just shocked. When I heard about it I was devastated, but I thought I could keep this from my children. And we have five children — we’re blessed by God — and the oldest is nine. And we were sitting at the table last night, and I thought they didn’t know about it, and one of my children said, “Oh yeah, we know about the shooting.” And my jaw dropped open. And they wanted to know how something like this could happen. You know, I had been trying to protect my kids from hearing about this. I thought maybe we could keep them from knowing.

ABERNETHY: And what did you tell them?

Rabbi HERZFELD: Well, I said to them sometimes there are just people who are wicked. You know, like sometimes you’ll see a kid in school who’s just being mean for no reason. Well, if we multiple that by so much, there’s some people who are so wicked in the world and there’s no way to understand it. But that means we have a job to do, and our job, I said to my children, is to reach out and be extra nice to people — especially people whom we don’t know, especially people who are different. That’s a message that kids can understand, and in the face of somebody who acts with senseless brutality and evil we have to be the opposite of such a person. We have to double-down on kindness.

ABERNETHY: Do you see this as an isolated incident, or do you fear that it’s part of something larger?

Rabbi Shmuel Herzfeld

Rabbi HERZFELD: Well, there’s always the fear that this is part of something larger, and I’m very afraid that this is part of something larger. In the last few weeks we’ve seen an attack on Wesleyan University where the killer had written he wants to kill Jews. We saw two synagogues nearly blown up in a plot in Bronx-Riverdale, New York, where I was a rabbi for five years. We see high unemployment, both in America and even higher in Europe, and there’s the fear of social unrest. So this is real cause for concern. I mean, ever since 9/11 we’re very concerned in this country especially when you see what one person — the damage one person could have done if he could have gotten through that security guard. There were 2,000 children in that museum that day. Imagine the horror that could have been inflicted. So that reminds us that we have to act with even greater responsibility to combat this, and the real way to combat this is through education, through reaching out across communities, across religions, and giving the message that even though we’re different, even though we worship differently, even though we might look differently and talk differently, we’re all children of God. This is the common message, that God created man in His image, and therefore no matter what religion you are, you are a child of God.

ABERNETHY: Some people might say, well, in addition to all that we should do something about hate speech, especially on the Internet, where there were some very, very hateful things apparently connected with the shooter. So what about that?

Rabbi HERZFELD: Well, I don’t think that works. I don’t think you can censor people. First of all, I don’t think we should do it, and I don’t think it will work even if we try to do it. I think the answer is we should do something about “love speech,” meaning we should spread words of love in the world, change the dialogue, change the discourse. Instead of reacting with hatred to people, we should reach out and as a community we should cross bridges and make these common connections. When I went to the vigil at the museum I was very touched that people from the Muslim community and the Christian community came there to stand as one with this attack, because this attack was an attack upon a guard on the museum. But the person that was killed was not Jewish, and when a person comes with senseless acts of hate, the bullet knows no name.

ABERNETHY: Rabbi Herzfeld, many thanks.

Welcome to you both. Professor Nasr, let’s begin with you. The reaction throughout the Muslim world — what do you hear?

Dr. VALI NASR (Professor of International Relations, Fletcher School of Law and Diplomacy, Tufts University): Very, very positive. There’s no doubt that the speech exceeded expectations from the vast majority of Muslims all the way from Indonesia to Nigeria. Even though the president did not go deeply into policy, I think the level of respect and empathy and seriousness that he showed in terms of engaging the Muslim world was very well understood by the public and very much appreciated.

ABERNETHY: On the other hand, Kate, there was a lot of criticism, wasn’t there, or some guarded comments from officials?

Kate Seelye

KATE SEELYE (Vice President, Middle East Institute, Washington, DC): Well, there were. I think people are—there are some who are holding reservations. They want to see if he’s going to translate his words into action. There was also some disappointment on the part of democracy activists who wanted him to be tougher, let’s say, on Arab leaders, who wanted to put more pressure on them. And there were some who wanted him to be tougher on the Israelis. But by and large, people were very positive and felt that he went out of his way to try to bridge this gap between America and the Muslim world.

ABERNETHY: What could be the deeds now that would satisfy the people to whom Obama was talking?

Dr. NASR: I think one of the ways to look at this is that the speech or the series of speeches he’s given is a deed in itself. In other words, our habit in this region is that administrations come up immediately off the bat with a plan of action for something, whether it’s Iran, Arab-Israeli issue, Afghanistan. This president understood that there is no point trying a new policy before you change the context in which you engage the other side. So I think his very first policy, his very first deed has been to gain trust, and I think the first way in which he has to be measured is by trust, and I think Kate’s point, which is correct, there are — I think he’s been successful enough that some actors like the Iranian government or Hezbollah or the Muslim Brotherhood may worry that he’s quickly changing the game on them very fast and effectively, and some of the reaction we’re seeing has to do with that.

Bob Abernethy

ABERNETHY: But a specific deed now to follow this, Kate, what could that be?

Ms. SEELYE: Well, I mean everybody’s waiting to see what he’s going to do vis-a-vis the Arab-Israeli peace process. What steps he is going to take to pressure the Israelis perhaps to halt settlement building. This is what Arabs and Muslims are looking for — concrete deeds with regard to the peace process, frankly.

ABERNETHY: Did you feel on that that he was tilting a little bit toward the Palestinians?

Ms. SEELYE: Well, he acknowledged the Holocaust, he acknowledged the suffering of the Jews, and he also acknowledged the suffering of the Palestinians, and this was really a first. Many presidents have acknowledged the need for a two-state solution, but few have said, you know, I feel for the suffering of the Palestinian refugees. He won high marks for that.

ABERNETHY: I was struck by the language, especially the references to the Qu’ran and other phrases that come out of the Islamic tradition. That can’t help but have helped him in the Muslim world.

Dr. NASR: Absolutely. I mean, there are ways of using the Qu’ran and then there are ways of using the Qu’ran. Often Western commentators or leaders usually use the Qu’ran in order to hit the Muslims on the head with it. In other words, use their own scripture in order to preach to them very selectively. This president, I think, has used a very light touch in terms of trying to use the Qu’ran to convince the Muslims that he believes they belong inside the tent — that there is no such thing as a Judeo-Christian tradition with the Muslim standing out there. The way he used the Qu’ran, particularly at the end, was to say that there is an Islamic-Judeo-Christian civilization—that your values are the same as our values and our values are the same as your values, and look, here is the example by referring to all three scriptures at the same time, and I think that’s what’s most effective.

ABERNETHY: And as you said, this attempt to build respect with the audience he was talking to is the first step in new policy?

Vali Nasr

Dr. NASR: Well, absolutely. If you looked at the Bush administration, their approach was that you are either with us or you’re against us. It’s either black or white, and the burden was on Muslims to prove themselves innocent. In other words they’re guilty unless proven innocent, and they set down a set of markers which basically meant abandon your faith, change it, reform it, change everything, and then you’ll be sort of acceptable. This president is starting from a very different point of view. First of all, he’s creating a massive gray area in the middle. It is not either us or you, that we have a common arena in which we share, and the burden is not on Muslims to prove that their religion matters or that their values are world values. He immediately off the bat said, “I agree with that, and I’ll give you better examples than you can yourselves.”

Ms. SEELYE: Yes, and if I might add to that, I mean he was very sensitive about language and Muslim sensitivities. He never once used the word “terrorist,” because over the past eight years the word terrorist has become synonymous with the word Muslim and Islam. So he avoided these words, and he used language that people applauded. When he talked about the Prophet Muhammad he said “peace be upon him.” That was very important for Islamists and traditionalists watching his speech.

ABERNETHY: What about nuclear weapons? What can you divine in the speech about how that problem can be addressed now?

Dr. NASR: That’s a problem that has to be solved at the negotiation table, and we will not see where it is going until the day the United States and Iran are sitting at the table and discussing it. But I think the president is trying to make it easier or in some ways compel the Iranian government not to hide behind excuses that Americans are not sincere, they’re not serious, there’s no point talking to them. To say that you — look, there is a pathway for you to come in, and the United States is going to engage Iran over these very serious issues from a position of respect.

ABERNETHY: Kate, did you hear anything from people you know in the Muslim part of the world about what we’re talking about? Did anybody say anything to you?

Ms. SEELYE: Oh, absolutely. I had some blogger friends from Saudi Arabia say that they were thrilled by this speech because it wasn’t directed toward Arab leaders. Obama never once mentioned the name of Hosni Mubarak, the host. He was speaking to the youth, to the women, to the people of the Arab world, and that’s very rare in a region where people don’t feel like they’re being addressed by their leaders. Here was this leader of the world superpower saying, “I care about you. I want to help you. Your education is important. Let’s invest in you.” That was profoundly appreciated.

ABERNETHY: Many thanks to you, Kate Seelye, and to Professor Vali Nasr.

Yvonne Haddad is professor of the history of Islam and Christian-Muslim relations at Georgetown University’s Center for Muslim-Christian Understanding:

President Obama’s address to Muslims has been received quite enthusiastically by many, particularly those in the audience in Cairo as well as American Muslims who finally heard a president who did not reiterate stereotypes of Islam and Muslims or make reference to “Islamo-fascism” or “Islamic terrorism.” They welcomed his respect and recognition of Islam’s contribution to human civilization. They were specially impressed by his statement that Islam is part of America, after suffering from abusive language and derision for the last eight years. They also welcomed his support for religious freedom and the wearing of the hijab.

Many gushed over the president’s use of the Islamic greeting and his quotations from the Qur’an. His speech has been described by the Council on American Islamic Relations as “comprehensive, balanced, and fair.” He has also been praised as “ambassador for America to the Muslim world.”

Others were not quite as mesmerized by the rhetoric and the oratory of the carefully crafted message. One activist dismissed the speech as “Bush in sheep’s clothing” since it appeared to continue the policies of the Bush administration. These others were concerned that the speech did not break new ground in policy or propose what they consider necessary for resolution of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Those who have been expecting a new Obama Doctrine were disappointed by the lack of concrete policies to resolve the problem. While some may dismiss their peeves as maximalist demands of short-sighted ideologues unwilling to engage in resolving the outstanding issues except on their terms, they did question several of Obama’s statements. For example, he talked about the slaughter of the innocent in Bosnia and Darfur, but failed to include among the innocents the 1400 Palestinians recently killed in Gaza.

While Obama justifiably condemned the perpetrators of 9/11 for killing “innocent men, women and children,” he made no reference to the peeves of the perpetrators who justified their deed as avenging the death of hundreds of thousands of innocent children in Iraq as a consequence of America’s policy of containment put in place after the first Gulf War.

While Obama talked about Palestinian Christians and Muslims who have “suffered in pursuit of a homeland,” he did not recognize that they had been expelled from their homeland due to Israeli policies of ethnic cleansing. He noted that “Palestinians must abandon violence” and made no reference to Israeli violence that has placed Palestinians within what some refer to as the “apartheid wall.”

While Obama made reference to the Arab peace initiative, he dubbed it as “an important beginning but not the end,” in a sense sanctioning Israel’s perpetual demands for continued concessions.

While Obama reiterated his stance that Israel should freeze the building of settlements, he failed to note that all settlements in the West Bank are illegal under international law. He did not outline how he will proceed to implement Israeli compliance with the road map peace plan.

Obama’s speech broke new ground. It started the process of helping American Muslims feel once again at home in the United States. It also reassured Muslims overseas that Americans are not after Muslim resources, nor are they engaged in a new Crusade. It put the Muslim world on notice that there is new leadership in America. The world’s Muslims now await the implementation of policies that demonstrate good will and evenhandedness.

Omid Safi is associate professor of religious studies at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill:

Historic. Brilliant. Nearly perfect.

The tone of President Obama’s speech in Cairo was most reminiscent of his masterly speech on race in America: acknowledging open wounds on all sides while laying out a hopeful vision for a shared future. It was a narrative rejecting the neoconservative nightmare of the past eight years that perpetuated the fallacy of the “clash of civilizations.”

Obama began by mapping his hope for a “new beginning between United States and Muslims around the world.” He then offered “the truth that America and Islam are not exclusive…they overlap.…” He went on to identify the common principles between Islam and America: “justice and progress; tolerance and the dignity of all human beings.”

Words have power, and Obama spoke powerful words. He offered the Muslim greeting of peace (al-salam alaykum) to his audience and acknowledged the reality of Western colonialism, as well as his hope for a shared vision of coexistence and peace.

Powerful is the vision of an American president approvingly citing from the Qur’an [chapter 5, verse 32] that to save one human life is akin to saving the life of all humanity, and taking one human life is akin to taking the life of all humanity.

Obama hit many of the right notes. He conveyed to his audience that he is familiar with the vast and glorious history of Islam, such as the long periods of religious tolerance in Andalusia, where Muslims, Jews, and Christians lived together in peace under Islamic rule. He praised Muslim contributions to science, philosophy, and learning. His mention of “timeless poetry and cherished music” was a nod to the rich aesthetic tradition of Islamic cultures.

The nuanced position Obama took on Palestine/Israel was the most closely watched component of his speech. The tone was expected, affirming America’s allegedly “unbreakable” bond with Israel while also acknowledging that Palestinians suffer in “intolerable” conditions. Yet the specifics offered were bolder: two states living side by side, a rejection of illegal Jewish settlements on the West Bank, and Jerusalem as a city shared by Muslims, Jews, and Christians.

Many Muslims were offended that there was no mention of the recent Israeli atrocities in Gaza. Furthermore, it is maddeningly frustrating for Muslims to be repeatedly told they have to recognize Israel’s right to exist when the borders of the state they are being asked to recognize are not specified. Would it be the 1967 borders? 1973? 2009? In addition, this overlooks the multiple times Arab and Muslim states, including Palestinian authorities, have in fact recognized Israel.

As incomplete and, indeed, flawed as that portion of the speech was (delivered under intense preemptive pressure from the Israel lobby), there was a magical, Obama-at-his-best appeal to the Night Journey (Isra) of the Prophet Muhammad, when he prayed together with all the prophets, including Moses and Jesus, in Jerusalem. This is Obama at a level of rhetorical brilliance and inclusiveness that is simply unmatched in American politics.

There were other missed opportunities. There were no critiques of Egypt’s own violations of human rights, something Muslim human rights activists were eager to hear. As a committed Christian, Obama knows all too well the biblical challenge (Matthew 7) “you shall know them by their fruits.”

Obama’s words were historic, brilliant, almost perfect. Now comes the hard part of following up on the beautiful intentions and the inclusive words: righteous and courageous action that brings all those of good will together. He—and we—shall be judged, on Earth and in Heaven, by those actions.

Tariq Ramadan is professor of Islamic studies on the faculty of theology at Oxford University and visiting professor at Erasmus University in the Netherlands:

We are used to nice words, and many in the Muslim majority countries as well as Western Muslims have ended up not trusting the United States when it comes to political discourse. They want actions, and they are right. This is, indeed, what our world needs. Yet President Obama, who is very eloquent and good at using symbols, has provided us in his Cairo speech with something more than simple words. It is altogether an attitude, a mindset, a vision.

In order to avoid shaping a binary vision of the world, Obama referred to “America,” “Islam,” “the Muslims,” and “the Muslim majority countries.” He never fell into the trap of speaking about “us” as different from or opposed to “them,” and he was quick to refer to Islam as being an American reality and to American Muslims as being an asset to his own society. Talking about his own life, he went from the personal to the universal, stating that he knows by experience that Islam is a religion whose message is about openness and tolerance. Both the wording and the substance of his speech were important and new: he managed at the same time to be humble, self-critical, open, and demanding in a message targeting all of “us,” understood as “partners.”

The seven areas Obama highlighted are critical. One might disagree with his reading and interpretation of what is happening in Afghanistan, Iraq, and Palestine (and the US role in these conflicts), but he avoided shying away from addressing these issues and called all the parties to take their share of responsibility by putting an end to violence and promoting respect and justice. He clearly acknowledged the suffering of the Palestinians and their right to a viable and independent state.

It is a necessary first step. The future will tell us if the new president has the means to be strong and consistent when dealing with the Israeli government. He left open some channels to dialogue with both the Palestinian Authority (calling for unity without sidelining Hamas) and Iran. These remain critical issues, and there will be no future without addressing them with consistency and courage. Expectations are immense, and Obama still has to show his true, practical commitment to justice and peace.

President Obama made an important distinction between democratic principles and political models. The rule of law, free choice of the people, and duty of transparency are universal principles, while political models depend on historical and cultural factors being taken into account. I hope the Obama administration puts this vision into practice by both promoting democratization everywhere and scrupulously respecting the choice of the people. It would be good to start with Iraq and Afghanistan. As to the undisputable principles of democracy, this is a good reminder to utter in Egypt, to the Egyptian government.

President Obama started his speech with the more political issues and quite intelligently ended with the critical areas of women and education. This is where, he recalled, we all have to do much better. In these two areas he came to Cairo with practical solutions and presented future interesting projects. Facing economic crisis, doubts, fears, and global threats, the world needs women to be more involved and education to be promoted everywhere. These common challenges helped the president, once again, to talk about an inclusive us, a “new we,” so to say, where we are partners sharing the same concerns, facing up to similar challenges, exposed to common enemies.

This speech was not only directed to the Muslims around the world. The West and non-Muslims should listen. President Obama acknowledged the historical Islamic contribution to scientific development and thought. He wants his fellow American citizens to learn more about Islam, to be more humble, and he expects all “liberals” not to impose their views on practicing Muslims, men and women. No one can impose a way of dressing or a way of thinking, and we should learn from one another. The implicit reference to the French controversy around the headscarf was indeed quite explicit.

The president quoted religious texts from the three monotheistic faiths, everyone of them delivering a universal message, as if true universalism is about educating one’s self, listening to and respecting the other.

Two days before his speech in Cairo, Obama surprisingly stated that America was a great “Islamic country.” It was a way for him to remind Americans, as well as all Westerners, that Muslims are their fellow citizens and Islam is a religion that is part of their common national narrative.

This was a powerful speech that was not only a speech: it embodies a vision both positive and demanding. Something has surely changed. Just as Barack Obama went from personal to universal principles, so we are waiting for him to go from the ideal to the practical. He is young, he is new, he is intelligent and smart. Has he the means to be courageous? For it is all about presidential courage as one wonders if it is possible for the United States to be simply consistent with its own values. Could one man tackle and reform this extraordinary tension that inhabits the contemporary American mindset, on the one hand promoting universal values and diversity while on the other nurturing a spirit that still has some features of imperial attitude intellectually, politically, and economically?

President Obama will not be able to achieve it alone, and maybe his greatest challengers so far are more the Indians and Chinese than the Muslims. Yet it remains critical to acknowledge the positive sides of a speech announcing “a new beginning.” It is imperative for Muslims to take Obama at his word and, instead of adopting either a passive attitude or a victim mentality, to contribute to a better world by being self–critical and critical, humble and ambitious, consistent and open. The best way to push Obama to face up to his responsibility in America, the Middle East, or elsewhere is for Muslims to start by facing up to their own without blindly demonizing America or the West or naively idealizing a charismatic African-American US president.

A personal note: President Obama wants us “to speak the truth.” It happens that once I spoke the truth about the illegal American invasion of Iraq and the blind unilateral support of America towards Israel. I have been banned from the United States and still remain so. It may be one of these inconsistencies that make some of us still doubt the very meaning of political words. Once again, a question of consistency.

Marc Gopin is the James H. Laue Professor and Director of the Center for World Religions, Diplomacy, and Conflict Resolution at George Mason University’s Institute for Conflict Analysis and Resolution:

One of the most interesting comments in the speech reflects what the president said in an interview with New York Times columnist Tom Friedman about his strategy for the Middle East: “We’re just going to keep on telling the truth until it stops working.” This is brilliant as a strategy. It makes every party face up to its private acknowledgments of what is true, and it challenges them to go public. It makes everyone responsible, including America. It is balanced and reasonable. A great start!

Amir Hussain is professor of theological studies at Loyola Marymount University in Los Angeles:

As an American Muslim who is also a scholar of Islam in America, I was eagerly anticipating President Obama’s speech in Cairo. I couldn’t be more delighted with what he said. In January of this year, I was in Cairo for a conference sponsored by Al-Azhar University on “Bridges of Dialogue with the West.” That President Obama opened with a mention of Al-Azhar, one of the oldest universities in the world and still the seat of Sunni Islamic learning, will certainly be noted by Muslims around the world. That he opened with the basic Muslim greeting, al-salaamu alaikum, and quoted several times from the Qur’an will also be noticed.

There is so much to praise about this speech. First is the historical connection with Muslims and America. This is something dear to me, as I’m currently working on a book for Baylor University Press entitled Building Islam in America. My work in the past dozen years has looked at how American Muslims have adapted to being in a minority, multicultural, multiethnic, multireligious setting in America, where they also have to deal with issues of Western modernity (for example, reactions to gay marriage). The book I am writing turns that question on its head and asks not how have American Muslims changed to accommodate living in America, but how has America been changed by the presence of American Muslims?

President Obama addressed that eloquently, talking about the history of Islam in America. Second, he talked of the mutual misperceptions many Americans have about Islam and many Muslims have about America. The natural bridge here, of course, is American Muslims, who as American Muslims have not just survived but thrived in America. Third, the speech did talk about sensitive issues such as nuclear weapons in Iran and the Israeli/Palestinian peace process. While some may be critical about President Obama not going far enough on this, his words resonated with me about the need for a secure Israel but also a Palestine where Palestinians can live in safety and dignity.

It has been a long time since a speech by a politician resonated so deeply with me. God bless President Obama, and God bless us all.

Ali S. Asani is professor of Indo-Muslim and Islamic religion and cultures at Harvard University:

One day after President Obama’s historic address to the world’s Muslims, every word, every phrase, every sentence of his speech is being carefully parsed. The aftermath of 9/11 and the war on terror have created a noxious atmosphere rife with misunderstandings, mutual hatred, and stereotypes. For many Americans, Islam and Muslims have become the “other,” while many Muslims have come to perceive America and Americans as a mortal enemy.

How will this speech impact the polarized relationship of the United States government with Muslim communities and nations around the world? What are its implications for US foreign and domestic policy? Worldwide reactions to the speech are also being analyzed. The verdict is mixed. Some loved it, some thought it did not go far enough, and a few objected to it as being apologetic, full of niceties but no real substance. What is easy to lose sight in all this analysis is that, for many Muslims, Barack Obama embodies in his person someone they admire and can relate to and, yes, perhaps even trust.

During a recent visit to Saudi Arabia, a Saudi guide told me that when he heard Americans had elected Barack Hussein Obama as their president, tears of joy welled up in his eyes. “If the great American people can elect a man with Obama’s background to be their president,” he said, “then there is hope that anything is possible. Change can happen, perhaps even in Saudi Arabia itself. I admire that man and what he stands for.”

I have heard similar comments from Muslims in Egypt, Dubai, Pakistan, Kuwait, Bahrain, and India. Such remarks remind us that the United States has in its current president a man with an uncommon background and personality who is uniquely qualified to deliver an unprecedented message of hope and understanding to a world characterized by globalization, interdependence, and diversity. As the Christian son of an African Muslim father who spent part of his childhood in Indonesia, and members of whose family are Muslims, the American president has lived and engaged with many kinds of differences –- racial, religious, ethnic, national.

Engaging with those who are different from oneself is not an easy task. It is a struggle that tests one’s patience and humility, but it is a worthwhile struggle, for we learn not only to see the world from another perspective but to respect that perspective. When President Obama spoke to an audience of three thousand at the University of Cairo, he embodied for them the values he referred to in his address — respect for difference, human dignity, humility, and intercultural understanding. When he quoted the Qur’an, “Be conscious of God and speak the truth,” and went on to speak the truth as he saw it, he represented in his person and demeanor that honesty. When he said that it was his responsibility as president of the United States to fight against negative and crude stereotypes of Islam and Muslims as well as of America and Americans, he spoke as a pluralist who understood from personal experience the dehumanizing nature of stereotypes. In a different world Roger Ailes would have said, “He was the message.”

Barack Obama’s charisma, so apparent during his address, is based on his humanity and humanism. It is true that one speech cannot change the course of history, but what is becoming increasingly clear is that President Obama is rapidly becoming a hero, if he is not already, for many around the world, regardless of their national and religious affiliation, including many Muslims. In this sense, he is the worst nightmare not only for al-Qaeda but for all those who believe in the clash of civilizations and insist on using difference to dehumanize the “other” – whoever the “other” may be.

The ultimate challenge is: will the world heed his call to join hands for the betterment of “us” all rather than being intent on destroying the “other”? Will it realize the truth that he has come to recognize, a truth echoed in a Qur’anic verse he cited at the end of his speech: God created diversity so that we may learn from one another?

Khaled Abou El Fadl is the Omar and Azmeralda Alfi Professor of Law at UCLA:

After eight years of boorish, war-mongering speeches and policies by the Bush administration, there is no doubt President Obama’s ecumenical speech in Cairo fell upon warm ears.

Obama spoke to Muslims as human beings, and Muslims who have grown so accustomed to being caste into the archetype of the counterpoint—the archetype that helps define the West by being its antithesis—were jubilant. Once again, Muslims learned that they can never enjoy the kind of privileged “unbreakable bond” that is exclusively reserved for the VIP members of the Western club, but Muslims were jubilant to learn that they are not members of the caste of lowly untouchables.

In his typically dignified and studious demeanor, Obama told Muslims he respects their faith and culture, he does not approve of religious bigotry, and he recognizes that Muslims have made numerous contributions to world civilization. He rightly refused the same old polarizing arguments: no to the clash of civilizations model, no to “cosmic wars” against jihadists or political Islam, and no to other grandiose yet reductionist stereotypes typical of the Bush era which sorted the world into a pile of good guys and a pile of bad guys.

Obama also soundly condemned the trendy pseudo-intellectual practice of professionalized Islam-hating masquerading as national security. He not only acknowledged that it was now part of his job to fight negative stereotypes of Islam, as well as negative stereotypes of the West, but he also had the moral courage to do something that through the agonizing years of colonialism, imperialism, and Western interventionism Muslims have rarely had the privilege of observing a Western leader do: admit to having unlawfully overthrown a legitimate and popular government in a Muslim country (President Musaddaq in Iran).

So it is no surprise that today, all over the Arab media, Arabs and Muslims are excited that Obama openly expressed respect for their faith and culture. After all, as many scholars have pointed out, one of the main grievances of Muslims in the age of modernity is the denial of liberty and dignity.

But the same media outlets that express such high approbation and admiration for Obama are also expressing severe anxiety and skepticism about whether this speech heralds the dawn of a new age or is just a new face for the same old western talk-a-lot, do-little that Muslims have become all too accustomed to since colonialism.

Paradoxes and inconsistencies have been the earmark of the modern age for Muslims—a world of smoke and mirrors. Indeed, the history of modern Muslim nations can be summed up in a dramatic narrative of competing promises by competing superpowers to competing regional powers, and the end result is people with tragic let-downs and broken dreams.

For instance, although President Obama delivered a wonderful speech about new beginnings, human rights, and mutual respect, it doesn’t change the fact that on the way to Egypt he first stopped in Saudi Arabia, the motherland of Wahhabism, the most puritanical, intolerant, and oppressive Muslim state. It leaves one wondering, was President Obama getting their approval? Was he assuring them not to feel threatened by his speech about human rights and the rights of women to equality?

Reminiscent of visits to Egypt by Presidents Nixon and Carter in the past, President Obama’s trip to Cairo was preceded by mass arrests and vast human rights abuses. One of the most influential intellectual leftist critics, Qamdil, disappeared and is believed to have been murdered by security forces. Notably, the Egyptian government’s targeting of dissidents was not limited to those who would be critical of President Obama’s visit to Egypt but actually included many Islamists known for their positive outlook towards the West.

Worst of all, the choice of Egypt instead of Malaysia or Indonesia, for instance, was quite curious. Hosni Mubarak is one of the most detested despots in the Middle East, not just because he has been in power for 28 years, at the very high cost of thousands of opponents tortured, imprisoned, and killed, but more so because many Arabs and Muslims consider him to be a direct partner in the Israeli genocide in Gaza. Mubarak’s government helped and continues to help enforce the embargo even against humanitarian aid to Gaza and has even prevented human rights investigators from documenting war crimes that have taken place in the territory.

Most lay Egyptians believe Mubarak is zealously serving American and Israeli interests because he is agonizingly trying to ensure that the United States will back up his son, Gamal Mubarak, an extremely unpopular, corrupt, Mafioso-type figure, in his bid to inherit the throne. The real policy disaster is that most mainstream Egyptians and, indeed, Arabs believe Obama’s choice of Egypt as the place from which to address the Muslim world is part of a classic smoke and mirrors deal to reward the ailing dictator for a job well done by guaranteeing that his son will inherit Egypt to continue more of the same.

JUDY VALENTE: Sunrise at the Abbey of Gethsemani in the misty hills south of Louisville, Kentucky. The 55 Trappist monks who live here awake at 3:00 a.m. to begin their daily regimen of prayer and work — in silence. They gather for communal prayer several times a day. They will rarely venture outside the walls. For most, their lives will end here. The monks support the abbey by making fruitcakes and other products which are sold to the public. Much of the monastery’s 2,300 acres is leased to local farmers.

Brother PAUL QUENON (Trappist Monk, Abbey of Gethsemani): The essence of the Trappist life would be living in God, and I don’t think I would want to say much more than that. And of course, you’re living in God with other people in the same community, and it’s a life of continual prayer, and it’s a life of deepening — going deeper into your own capacity to love and live with God.

VALENTE: In 1941, Merton, then an aspiring young writer and a recent convert to Catholicism arrived here seeking to radically change his life. Merton was to have a striking message.

MORGAN ATKINSON (Documentary Producer): He said that anybody could have a deeply spiritual life it they care to. Any person on the street, if they were committed to it and devoted to trying it, then that path was open to them.

VALENTE: For Merton, the deeply spiritual life meant the experience of God’s presence and love at all times, combining that with action in everyday life. Paul Pearson oversees the Merton Center at Bellarmine University in Louisville.

Paul Pearson

Dr. PAUL PEARSON (Director and Archivist, The Thomas Merton Center, Bellarmine University): The essence of Merton’s spirituality is, I think, the humanity of it, that he really speaks to ordinary people. He knows so well the great classics of Christian spirituality, but he can interpret them in a way that people in our world today can understand and relate to.

VALENTE: He spoke especially to lay Catholics in what was then a firmly hierarchical church.

Dr. PEARSON: Spirituality really belonged to the monks and nuns and bishops and what have you, whereas, you know, your ordinary lay person went to Mass on Sundays, the Mass was in Latin, they said the rosary, and that was the extent of it. And Merton, I think, really opened up that whole realm of contemplation and spirituality for people.

VALENTE: Merton’s parents had died when he was young. By his own account, he lived a rootless, hedonistic life. It was rumored he had fathered a child out of wedlock while a student at the University of Cambridge. At New York’s Columbia University, he continued to feel morally adrift, emotionally bereft. As a world-weary 26-year-old, Merton wrote these words, read by Morgan Atkinson.

Mr. ATKINSON (reading from Merton’s journal): Finally has come the time to go the Trappists and try to get in and be completely quiet in the front of the face of peace. It is time to stop being sick and get really well. Out here I could think and yet could not get to any conclusions. But there was one thought running around and around in my mind: to be a monk — to be a monk!

VALENTE: Thomas Merton not only became a monk. He would become a best-selling author and one of the most influential spiritual thinkers of his time. A fellow writer called him “an investigative reporter going into the inner workings of the soul.” As a novice at Gethsemani, Brother Paul Quenon received spiritual direction from Merton, known as Father Louis.

Brother Paul Quenon

Brother QUENON: He doesn’t think of the whole world as, you know, monks. But on the other hand, he can talk to the monk in each person. He sees it as a deep enough thing, that somehow everybody has the capacity to come to the same intensity and depth of experience of God.

Dr. PEARSON: This exhibit is all of Merton’s published work with their varying editions and foreign translations. Merton’s now been translated into I think it’s 30 languages.

VALENTE: In 1948, when he was 33 years old, Merton published his autobiography, “The Seven Storey Mountain,” taking his title from a scene in Dante’s “Purgatory.” The book became an overnight bestseller.  Sister Suzanne Zuercher is a Benedictine nun who has written extensively about Merton.

Sister SUZANNE ZUERCHER, OSB: I knew I needed to be in monastic life. I knew he was someone who spoke to me as no one had every spoken to me. He’s funny, he’s profound, he’s human, he’s down to earth, he’s practical, he’s concrete.

VALENTE: Mike Brennan is a baggage handler for American Airlines in Chicago. His home is full of Merton books and memorabilia.

MIKE BRENNAN (Baggage Handler, American Airlines): Working at O’Hare Airport, noisy, crazy, constant activity, constant stimulation, it’s really nice to find a way to let go of all that stimulus and activity and think of being connected with the Lord, and I learned than from Merton.

VALENTE: Merton’s fame allowed him to correspond with presidents, popes, and Nobel Prize winners. But as his public reputation grew, he retreated further into solitude and silence. He would spend a few hours a day in this small wooden shed writing and meditating. But it wasn’t enough.

Brother QUENON: He wanted to have more time for writing, for meditation.

VALENTE: He would later get permission from his abbot to live as a hermit in this tiny cottage about a half-mile from the monastery.

Brother QUENON: He loved being in the midst of nature, you know. The birds were his friends.

VALENTE: What do you think he did out here?

Brother QUENON: Well, read a lot and wrote. For him, praying was just to abide in the presence, the presence of the Lord.

(touring cottage): There’s the kitchen and then a bedroom, and then a chapel was added later on.

VALENTE: Merton wrote this in his journal:

Mr. ATKINSON (reading from Merton’s journal): For myself I have only one desire and that is the desire for solitude: to disappear into God; to be submerged in His peace; to be lost in the secret of His space. I have gone to the hermitage not because I hate the world. I go to the hermitage to deepen my consciousness, to be more in communion with the world.

Thomas Merton

VALENTE: His output was enormous. Over a 20-year period he would write 60 books on topics ranging from contemplative prayer to nonviolence. He also wrote poetry, essays, and criticism. In the 1960s, Merton became increasingly controversial. He began writing on issues of the day like civil rights, materialism, and the nuclear arms race. His superiors blocked the publication of some of his most strident anti-war writings.

Dr. PEARSON: As he changed from the world-denying monk to the world-embracing monk of the ’60s, you know, people began to think “why should he be writing on these issues. He’s away in a monastery. What does he know about them?’”

VALENTE: In 1966, Merton spent several weeks in a Louisville hospital, recovering from back surgery. There he met and fell in love with a young student nurse. He was 51 years old at the time.

Sister SUZANNE ZUERCHER, O.S.B. (Merton Author): It was very brief. It was very intense. It was very passionate. He sometimes felt he had abandoned his vows, and at other times he felt he was living the vows of growth and fulfillment.

VALENTE: The two would sometimes meet clandestinely in secluded parts of the monastery grounds. Within a matter of months, the relationship was over. But Merton had been changed.

Sr. SUZANNE: From that time on he never again thought of himself as being unloved or unlovable, and he himself learned to love in this relationship and that it was the part of himself that he always felt had been underdeveloped.

VALENTE: Merton rededicated himself to his monastic life. He became increasingly interested in Buddhism and Asian monasticism. In 1968, he received permission to attend a conference on monasticism in Bangkok. There is rare footage of Merton from that conference.

THOMAS MERTON (in video from 1968 Bangkok conference): That’s a thing of the past now, to be suspicious of other religions, and to look always at what is weakest in other religions and what is highest in our own religion. This double standard of dealing with religions — this has to stop.

“Our real journey is interior.”

VALENTE: Hours after this film was made Merton was dead, electrocuted after touching a fan with faulty wiring in his hotel room. He was 53. His reputation has only grown since his death. Working with manuscripts he left behind, scholars have published 60 more of his books, including seven volumes of his personal journals. But as a monk, Merton left behind few personal possessions: his work shirt, a cup, boots, eyeglasses.

Dr. PEARSON: With the death of Thomas Merton we lost really one of the great Catholic voices, one of the great prophetic figures within the Catholic Church, and I think that’s why his books are still selling, why they’re still being translated, because that message is as relevant today as when he wrote it.

VALENTE: Toward the end of his life Merton wrote, “Our real journey is interior.” For those seeking to take that journey, he remains an essential guide.

For RELIGION & ETHICS NEWSWEEKLY, I’m Judy Valente at the Abbey of Gethsemani.

Q: What would you say is the essence of Thomas Merton’s spirituality?

A: The essence of Merton’s spirituality is, I think, the humanity of it, that he really speaks to ordinary people. You know, I don’t think there’s anything particularly new in it. He knows so well the great classics of Christian spirituality, but he can interpret them in a way that people in our world today can understand and can relate to, and I think that was his great contribution, and in the period when he started writing, in the late ’40s and the ’50s, certainly within the Catholic Church prior to the Second Vatican Council, that kind of spirituality was unheard of for your ordinary lay person. Spirituality really belonged to the monks and nuns and bishops and what have you, whereas, you know, your ordinary lay person went to Mass on Sundays, the Mass was in Latin, they said the rosary, and that was the extent of it, and Merton, I think, really opened up that whole realm of contemplation and spirituality for people, and so much that we’re familiar with now came about through that.

Q: Was that his main message to lay people, to the ordinary person, that you too can enter into this type of deep union with God?

A: I think it was in the early days. In the early days, you know, Merton gives the impression that all he’s interested in is a spiritual life, that he’d entered Gethsemani in 1941, and he was turning his back on the evil world outside the monastery. But I think gradually, through his experience in the monastery, through the response to the publication of The Seven Storey Mountain and all the correspondence that he received from people, in dealing with the young men who he was teaching at monastery, Merton realized that he couldn’t leave the world behind at the monastery gate, that he was actually in the monastery for the world. And so his spirituality began to change so that it involved tackling the issues that were of concern to everybody in the world. So in some ways it’s his combination of contemplation and action, I think, that really marks out his spirituality. You know, I think in that period probably there was lots of writing about spirituality. But none of it combined it with action in the same way that Merton did.

Q: What were some of those issues he was concerned about getting people thinking about out in the world and relating to their religious life, their spiritual lives?

A: I think initially some of the issues Merton was most concerned about, you know, were the major issues facing society at that time, and especially going into the ’60s issues surrounding the Cold War, so to do with the nuclear arms race, issues to do with war and peace and nonviolence.
And then, as the ’60s wore on, things like, obviously, the Vietnam War came up and, you know, you can just see similarities with the world today. You know, we seem to have got over the Cold War of the ’60s and now, you know, you’ve got, you know, relations with China or Russia seem to be changing all the time. But then he also began writing about issues to do with civil rights, and certainly prejudice hasn’t gone away in our own day, and gradually beginning to touch on other issues such as feminism, the use and abuse of technology, the effects of the media, ecology. Merton was one of the first people to review Rachel Carson’s book Silent Spring, and he also had it read in the monastic refectory and was very much involved with reforestation at the monastery, you know, concerned about the impact that the monks had had on the local environment.

Q: Why do you think people still find him so compelling today and are still reading his books today?

A: I think people are still reading Merton’s books today because he speaks so clearly about all the issues that we’re still dealing with. You know, I think if he were to come back he would be very frustrated with us that we don’t seem to have learned anything; that, if anything, many of those issues that he was writing about have been magnified or they’ve become more kind of ingrained in society, if anything. You know, a lot of the segregation in the ’60s was very marked, whereas now, you know, I think there are more subtle forms of segregation which maybe are even worse than what it was like then. I know people refer to things like ecological racism and things like that and, you know, we can still learn a lot from his writings.

Q: He was extremely prolific. How was he able to accomplish so much in a period of basically 20 years?

A: Merton was, you know, just an extraordinary figure in the way that he wrote. You know, Seven Storey Mountain was published in 1948, and he died in 1968, and the number of books he wrote during that period, you know, along with articles or journals and all the other work that he was doing, teaching first to scholastics and then to novices, the spiritual life of the community, spiritual direction, and yet he wrote this incredible number of books. And I think people often think that he just wrote and published, that, you know, as it flowed off his pen it was ready for publication. But it wasn’t, and we’ve certainly got manuscripts here where you can see him reworking and reworking his material. So, for example, with The Sign of Jonas we actually have five variant typescripts, and that’s not an issue like today of just inserting a few paragraphs on the computer. It’s retyping a whole typescript of 400-plus pages.

Paul Pearson

Q: But how do you think he was able to do that? What enabled him to be so prolific and productive?

A: I think it was an incredible sense of focus, that he could really focus on what he was doing. I think one of the monks told me the story that, you know, with Merton if, you know, a book arrived in the mail in the morning he would’ve read the book, he would’ve drafted a review, revised the review, and had it ready to mail back to a major magazine by lunchtime and that it would be, you know, fit to be published in the New Yorker, or somewhere. Whereas, I know if I write a book review it takes me weeks. So he just works on a different intellectual level and, you know, monks will say that he never wasted a moment of time, that if he was sitting outside the abbot’s office for a meeting, he would be working, and when he was giving spiritual direction he was, you know, always there with the person, but when he felt that the time had come to an end, that they were wasting time, he soon cut it off.

Q: What made him controversial?

A: Merton became controversial because of his movement away from just writing about spirituality and beginning to write about the issues of his day. You know, I think people love that monk who would write, you know, these wonderful books about spirituality that flowed from his pen or off his typewriter in the ’50s. But as he changed from the world-denying monk to the world-embracing monk of the ’60s, you know, people began to think, “Well, why should he be writing on these issues? He’s away in a monastery. What does he know about them?” And especially when he began criticizing some of the viewpoints that the people were taking, or that the government was taking or the Church at that time, and certainly within the Catholic Church. The first Catholic was in the White House, and so I think there was a sense with a lot of Catholics of loyalty to the country, and yet here was Merton criticizing some of the stances that were being taken by the government. I think nowadays Catholics would much more readily agree that would be the position, you know, they should be taking. But that wasn’t the case in the ’60s.

Q: How about his inquiries into Eastern monasticism, Eastern religions? How controversial and unusual was that?

A: It was certainly unusual in that period, and I don’t think I would say it was controversial in the ’60s. I think in some ways people were much more open to it at that time than maybe they are nowadays. But certainly when, you know, in the late ’50s Merton first started working with students from other Christian denominations, you know, seminarians from the Presbyterian seminary here in Louisville or the Southern Baptist seminary would go down to dialogue with Merton and other members of the community, and that was really unheard of within Catholic circles prior to the Second Vatican Council. And then, gradually, you know, he began to expand that through his correspondence with peoples of other faiths, and often, then, those people would come and visit him at Gethsemani, and he would get them to talk to the novices or to the community. And so there was a real interfaith dialogue that was being generated from Gethsemani, and dialogue not about issues of doctrine, which they’d often not agree about, but more of an experiential approach to God, which was more monastic, in a sense: how do we pray, how do we understand God, and things like that.

Q: What makes him controversial today, to the extent that the Catholic bishops would not even include his biography in an official catechism?

A: I think people get the impression, and you know, I think it’s a very shallow reading of Merton, was that he was, you know, ready when he went to Asia to become a Buddhist or something, and, you know, they’re not seeing what was written in his books when they take it in that way. You know, I think Merton was able to dialogue with people of other faiths because he was so firmly rooted in his own tradition. It wasn’t any wishy-washy New Age kind of thing. Merton could dialogue from within the tradition, and, you know, if you look at his last entries in his personal journal in Asia, he talks about celebrating Mass. He’s got his Latin breviaries with him. He still preferred the Latin to the English translations. He was having lunch with the apostolic delegate, and the conference that he died at was a conference of First-World monasteries assisting Third-World monasteries, you know, Benedictine and Cistercian monks and nuns. Merton wasn’t about to become a Buddhist monk, and, you know, I think there’s a certain element in the Catholic Church that, you know, is almost going back to the pre-Vatican II days that there’s no salvation outside the Church, that kind of attitude. And, you know, I think it was pressure from that group that led to Merton being taken out of the catechism. And yet I hear young people saying, you know, it’s just a sign of how out of touch the bishops are that they would remove somebody like Merton and yet leave in all these other people who, you know, are not relevant to our modern world.

Q: What are some of the main things you think Thomas Merton would have to say to today’s seekers, to today’s world?

A: What would Merton have to say to today’s world? In many ways, I’m not sure it would be that different from what he was writing in the ’60s. I think that’s why his books are still selling, why they’re still being translated, because that message is as relevant today as when he wrote it. You know, just encouraging people to persevere in their spiritual journey, to see how their spirituality integrates with their daily life, with their social life, with their involvement with the world and with politics. I think if people really took that message seriously, you know, the world could change drastically. But people don’t. It’s a difficult message.

Q: Could you briefly describe how he died, how that transpired?

A: Merton died in Asia at a conference in Bangkok. He’d been invited there by a Benedictine monk to give the keynote address, and he did the address, his address, on the morning of December the 10th, 1968, and then sometime in the afternoon, after lunch apparently, he’d had a siesta and took a shower and then after his shower went to adjust one of these large, freestanding electric fans that was in his room, and he was electrocuted by touching faulty wiring on the fan. And, of course, the voltage in Thailand is much higher than here. I think it’s 220 or 240 volts.

Q: Would it be fair to say Thomas Merton was ahead of his time, and in what way?

A: I think so, in a number of ways, and yet in some ways he’s so deeply in the tradition. But, you know, that’s a part in the tradition that often gets overlooked. I think in the church fathers he would find this very different vision of the world, and so although I would say, yes, he was definitely ahead of his time, being ahead of his time was based on the tradition, and he discovered that through his reading, you know, of the monastic fathers, the church fathers, about how they worked with the society of their day. You get this impression of the monks in the early centuries going off into the desert and turning their back on the world. But then you hear these stories of, you know, the emperor or the leading people of their day going to the monks to consult with them about the issues they were concerned about and, you know, these monks off in the desert giving the leaders advice. And in a sense that’s just what Merton was doing in the ’60s, you know, he was communicating with people all over the world: popes, presidents, Nobel Prize winners and, you know, they saw that he had a wisdom that our world needed then and still needs today.

Q: What did the world lose by his dying in his prime?

A: I think with the death of Thomas Merton we lost, really, one of the great Catholic voices, one of the great prophetic figures within the Catholic Church. You know, it’s hard to imagine what he would be doing if he were still alive today and, you know, he could be. He’d be in his 90s, but he could still be alive. In many ways he would be saying the same things he was saying in the ’60s, which is a very sad reflection on us that we don’t seem to have moved forward, or moved forward in the right direction. And yet, you know, he was writing about technology and computers, and all of those things have developed so much more since he was writing about them. I think we miss out on how he himself would have carried his thought forward, how he would have tackled the issues in the way that we’re facing them nowadays.