Earlier this month, when Dr. Nabile Safdar addressed 400 people, the majority Muslims, during the Islamic Speakers Bureau’s annual gala in Atlanta, he didn’t ignore the elephant in the room: the Israeli-Hamas war
“This (war) has brought some of us closer. In some cases it’s led to some distance and suspicion within the community, and between communities and individuals,” Safdar said at the event, which included Jews and Christians in the audience.
Some people had suggested that the Islamic Speakers Bureau (ISB) cancel the event, but organizers felt it was important to hold it at this time.
The last few weeks were difficult for many in attendance at the ISB gala. Some had lost friends and relatives. Others knew people being held hostage after Hamas militants mounted a surprise Oct. 7 attack and Israeli retaliated with airstrikes on Gaza. At one point during the event, a rabbi, an imam and a Christian pastor shared the stage, each calling for understanding among faiths and people.
Atlanta has long been known as a city in which interfaith and multi-cultural efforts have addressed divisive issues such as civil and voting rights, climate change, diversity and inclusion, and sought ways to build on the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr.’s vision of a beloved community.
Recently, a group of interfaith leaders and activists met near the King Center, calling for a ceasefire. There have also been separate rallies in support of Israel and of Palestinians.
But the war has left people horrified, in a state of shock with anger and grief, said Safdar, chairman of the Atlanta-based ISB.
Traditionally, interfaith work brings people together from various religions and backgrounds to find common ground and to promote understanding, dialogue, acceptance and respect. But the work of joining these communities together has been strained since the war began, and some say longstanding interfaith partners have gone silent in the face of raw emotions surrounding the war.
“There’s definitely some discomfort, but we’ve had similar circumstances before that are usually related to Israel and Palestine,” said Audrey Galex, community engagement director at the Atlanta Interfaith Broadcasters Network, whose husband has several family members who are being held hostage.
“It’s hard to really give a clear interfaith message when there’s so much death and destruction going on,” Galex said. “It does put a strain (on interfaith work) but it doesn’t stop things. To me it makes it all the more important to double down on our efforts to hear each other’s pain, listen to each other’s stories and find a way to work together.”
In Atlanta, interfaith activities include people of diverse faiths, cultures and ethnicities who have traveled together around the world with World Pilgrims, an Atlanta-based nonprofit under the umbrella of the Interfaith Community Initiative.
Meaningful interfaith work is done on a smaller scale too. In the past, Jewish and Muslim women have baked challah bread together. Jews and Muslims have shared seder meals during Passover and Iftar meals during Ramadan.
So what happens next? How do you maintain relationships between faiths and even build on them amid divisions and a war with so many civilian casualties?
Credit: HYOSUB SHIN / AJC
Credit: HYOSUB SHIN / AJC
Safdar said he’s seen signs that interfaith relationships have a path forward. There have been calls and texts between people of different faiths, including tough conversations, sometimes angry. People have joined in prayer and action, sending the strong message that people will not stand for Islamophobia, antisemitism or “anti-anything” he said.
The “politics of the whole thing is looming larger and forcing people to pick a side,” said the Rev. Gerald Durley, who has been active in interfaith work and is pastor emeritus of Providence Missionary Baptist Church in Atlanta. ”The only way to get through this is for those with strong feelings about this to continue to be at the table and you’ve got to do it at the local level. The onus is on imams, on pastors and on rabbis. If we’re not sitting in the room, then who?”
Samia Abdulle has worked with Clarkston’s diverse immigrant and refugee community for years. The interfaith world is quiet at the moment, she said.
“There is utter silence. It comes from a space of let’s just wait until the moment cools down.” She said there should be safe spaces for all to speak their truth, and “my truth doesn’t mean it cancels your truth.”
Soumaya Khalifa founded the nonprofit more than 22 years ago to build bridges between Muslims and the rest of the community. It was launched just weeks before 9-11.
She thinks there is an unrealistic expectation that if you do interfaith work, those you work with will see the world through your lens.
Credit: Bita Honarvar
Credit: Bita Honarvar
“That’s not realistic,” she said. “Everyone has their own way of seeing the world and it may not be the same as yours.” People have to continue connecting on a personal level and “hear each other,” she said, adding that people should keep humanity as the focus.
But in the war’s wake there have been challenges and even feelings of betrayal.
Rabbi Peter S. Berg, at the Temple, which was founded in 1867 and recently observed the 65th anniversary of its historic bombing, has been deeply involved in interfaith work over the years, along with his congregation.
Reflecting on people of all faiths and those he has worked with in organizations across the city, Berg said, “This has been a very challenging time and, if I’m honest, I’ll say I’m stunned and shocked at how few people have reached out to us.”
He said he’s been in interfaith meetings where the subject of the war and loss of innocent lives has not even come up. “Nobody even talked about it at all,” he said. “I think people are walking on eggshells.”
Credit: Miguel Martinez/AJC
Credit: Miguel Martinez/AJC
But, he said, “We’re not going to stop any of the work we’ve done or are doing. Right now that’s one of my top priorities.”
Dov Wilker agrees. Wilker, regional director of the American Jewish Committee Atlanta, thinks many people have “shut down. That’s really the state of it right now.”
What’s happening now in the Middle East is too raw, he said. He’s heard privately from people of other faiths who support Israel or who want to check on his wellbeing.
“Everybody involved in this work has been very hands off,” he said. “That’s with all our interfaith partners. It’s hard.”
Despite that strain, though, Plemon El-Amin, imam emeritus of the Atlanta Masjid of Al-Islam, says interfaith work is not broken.
“God is still God and none of us have an exclusivity to God,” he said. “The door is not closed but people have a pretty strong segregation of faith going on right now. I’m optimistic. I know we will work through this. Overcome it.”
So how and when does healing begin?
The Rev. Cassandra A. Henderson, executive director of the Interfaith Children’s Movement and a Baptist minister, said no one knows how long healing will take.
The Interfaith Children’s Movement is a multi-faith grassroots advocacy coalition working on behalf of children. It was launched in 2001, coincidentally on the day of the 9-11 terrorist attacks on the United States.
“I know that the road to wholeness and peace that kind of transformation is not easy and it is long and it is not for those not directly affected to set the rules,” she said.
“The foundation that has been laid is being tested and we’re learning how to be in relationship with each other in crisis,” she said.
