By Jalees Rehman

All true living is encounter (Alles wirkliche Leben ist Begegnung).
—Martin Buber, I and Thou (Ich und Du)

Last year, our local masjid (mosque) organized an interfaith dinner and invited clergy and lay members of various faith communities during the month of Ramadan. As in preceding years, the goal was for Muslims and non-Muslims to meet each other and foster an interfaith dialogue within the neighborhood. The event began with an introductory lecture about Islam, followed by presentations relating to fasting and spirituality given by a Muslim and a Christian speaker. During the dinner, I was seated next to some members of a Protestant congregation. We had a very pleasant conversation, covering a wide range of topics, from the concept of fasting to the importance of regularly going to church. However, I realized that many of my sentences began with “As Muslims, we . . .” or “In Islam, it is important . . . ,” and my conversation partners used similar phrases, such as “In our Christian faith, we. . . .” We were not speaking as individuals who were sharing our own personal approaches to our faith, but instead, we were trying to act as representatives for our respective faiths. At the conclusion of the evening, I felt that we had engaged in a very pleasant interfaith conversation, but not in an authentic interfaith dialogue.

Martin Buber’s Ich und Du (I and Thou)¹ has been instrumental in defining the characteristics of spiritual dialogue. Buber suggests that the prevailing approach by which humans interact with each other is the Ich-Es (I-It) approach, during which we perceive our partners as objects (Es) and avoid a true dialogue with the Du. Ich-Es interactions tend to be unidirectional and primarily confirm preconceived notions or achieve specific utilitarian goals of the individual. These interactions do not constitute an authentic dialogue, according to Buber, because the preconceived ideas and goals of the individual lie at the core of the interaction. Buber also discusses the very different Ich-Du encounter, which is characterized by an open dialogue without formal structure and without specific expectations. This allows for bidirectional communication such that the individual and the partner engage in an authentic dialogue that forms the basis of a personal relationship that transforms both, the Ich and the Du. Importantly, Buber says: “The You encounters me through grace—it cannot be found by seeking” (Das Du begegnet mir von Gnaden—durch Suchen wird es nicht gefunden). At formal interfaith events, we often search for ways to initiate dialogue, but this searching comes with a set of expectations that, paradoxically, may undermine the goal to achieve dialogue.

Another key obstacle to an authentic dialogue at formal interfaith events is what Marcia Hermansen has described as the “performative mode.”² We all tend to play roles in our daily lives, but during a formal event we are exposed to an “audience,” so that, according to Hermansen, the event becomes a performance in which members of a faith try to present or “perform” their faith in front of members of another faith. Whether the intent is to impress, teach, or just share ideas with members of another faith, the “performance” represents a depersonalization which, in the sense of Martin Buber, would actually objectify both the “performers” and the “audience.”

When I think back to the numerous transforming Ich-Du encounters with which I have been blessed when meeting members of other faiths, they have nearly always occurred in an informal setting, such as in a home, in a café, or even at work. But I do remember at least one example of such an encounter that took place during a formal interfaith event. A number of years ago, I had been invited to a Trappist monastery to give a talk about the basic aspects of Muslim belief and practice. Before my talk, I sat down and met many of the monks, and we discussed and compared prayer schedules in our faiths. I was intrigued by the fact that the monastery had scheduled prayers occurring all throughout the day and even at night, bearing tremendous resemblance to the Muslim prayer schedule. We were talking about how keeping the prayer schedule can be quite difficult, but at one point I said to one of the brothers, “Keeping the regular prayer schedule can be difficult, but I think the hardest thing is to actually believe in God.” The brother looked at me, smiled, and said “Yes, it is.” I felt that he had really understood me. I had not intended to make that comment, but it was sincere and reflected a struggle that I was having as a believer. The response the brother gave me allowed me to feel that we were not speaking to each other as Muslim and Trappist monk, but simply as two believers, each with his own struggles. Even though we had met in the setting of a formal event, we had been graced by an opportunity to really encounter each other, at a moment when we were neither “searching” nor “performing.”