Let there be nuclear light?

Christians wrestle with questions about radioactive accidents, technology, and replacing fossil fuels

By the end of 2022, Germany is set to decommission the last of its three nuclear reactors. But for local Christians, debates around nuclear energy will continue to have their own half-life. 

By December, Germany is pulling the plug on its last three nuclear power plants — Isar 2, Emsland, and Neckarwestheim II — as part of the country’s Atomausstieg, or “nuclear power phase out.”

Amidst the shutdown, evangelicals on both sides of the Atlantic are wrestling with the potential risks, rewards, and responsibilities of nuclear power. Discerning whether there is a Christian case for nuclear energy is not as simple as turning on the lights. At issue are questions about nuclear power’s potential to destroy life and poison the earth through toxic waste. 

Robert Kaita, 69, who worked for the Princeton Plasma Physics Laboratory for 40 years, said, “as human beings created in God’s image, we have tremendous power to create and destroy, to give life and to take it. 

“Nuclear energy isn’t inherently evil,” he said, “but we have to go beyond technical problems and consider the moral ramifications of what we are doing.” 

Indeed, as Germany shuts down its nuclear energy program, it is perhaps ironic that nuclear energy was invented in its capital, Berlin. In what is now the Hahn-Meitner building on the campus of Freie Universität Berlin (FU Berlin), chemists Otto Hahn and Fritz Straßmann utilized Lise Meitner’s theories to discover nuclear fission on December 17, 1938. The splitting of nuclear atoms (fission) not only came to provide the basis for usable energy, but also the explosive force of the atomic bomb. 

Following World War II and the monumental, if monstrous, demonstration of fission’s power, Germany’s nuclear energy program kicked off in the 1950s. Its first power plants followed in the 1960s. Already, German anti-nuclear movements organized resistance to nuclear power’s proliferation. 

Local accidents and international disasters further propelled the anti-nuclear movement in the 1970s and 80s. Between 1975 and 1987 small scale incidents in Germany led to local contamination, radiation emission, and worrisome fires. Then, the Chernobyl accident occurred in 1986 and fears of nuclear fallout became mainstream.  

Located in what is now Ukraine, Chernobyl lies around 775 miles from Germany’s eastern border. When the reactor was destroyed, radioactive waste spewed across swathes of Europe, including Germany. It not only threatened lives, but water and food supplies. Wild mushroom samples in German forests still show signs of Chernobyl’s radioactive contamination signature to this day. 

For Markus Baum, 59, Chernobyl was a decisive crossroads. 

Mission Berlin: The Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter-Day Saints And Its Nearly 170 Years In Germany’s Capital City

A tireless desire to share their message with the people of Berlin — and Germany as a whole — has helped the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints’ mission in Berlin persevere over the years, up to the present day. 

Despite criticism, shrinking numbers and the challenges of working in a diverse metropolitan area considered the atheist capital of Europe, numerous young church members fulfill their mission in Berlin and believe the city is rich with opportunity.

“Sure, we face difficulties, get tired or get nervous sometimes, but it’s all worth it to be able to represent Jesus Christ,” said Elder Wyatt Smith, 21, a missionary from Utah.

In the U.S., members of the faith have had a long on-again, off-again relationship with popular culture and the country’s religious mainstream. With the recent release of FX’s “Under the Banner of Heaven,” starring Andrew Garfield and based on the eponymous best-selling book by Jon Krakauer, Mormons — a colloquial term based on the church's sacred Book of Mormon — of various kinds have been thrust back into public conversation in a not-so-flattering light.

In Berlin, that relationship has perhaps been even more tenuous and tense. From resistance to their message and rejection by the Kingdom of Prussia in 1853 to their current mission to serve refugees fleeing the conflict in Ukraine, the church there has faced difficulties large and small.  

Across the years and various challenges, the church has persisted. Today, there are 39,456 church members across 149 congregations in Germany as a whole.

Young Latter-day Saints in Berlin have shaped their mission to the city, and in turn, the city has shaped the church and its efforts to reach one of the most secular urban communities in contemporary Europe.

Elder Joshua Obrist of Switzerland, 24, partners with Smith in Berlin’s Steglitz district to share the church’s message, “the restored gospel of Jesus Christ,” sometimes on the street to passers-by. 

On buses and trains, in front of cafés and kiosks, Obrist and Smith talk to anyone and everyone who has a moment to discuss questions about life, death and the ultimate meaning of the cosmos.

After five hours out on the streets, Obrist and Smith are on a bus headed back to the church’s ward — local congregation — in Berlin’s Dahlem neighborhood. But they are not yet done for the day. Starting around 6:30 a.m., a typical day in the life of church missionaries is relentless.

“We don’t really have time off,” Smith said. “We start early in the morning studying the Scriptures, catch up with contacts on Facebook, rehearse some conversations we might have that day, do our mission work and maybe have some evening meetings, but we aren’t done until around 9:00 p.m.

“And even though we have Mondays off,” he added, “we are still wearing our name tags if we go out.”

Asked if this schedule proved exhausting, Smith replied, “Not really. This is a calling for us, one we only get to know for a small window in our life.” 

Religion on the docket: U.S. Supreme Court decides on cases with religious ramifications

Perhaps NPR’s Nina Totenberg put it best when she said the docket for the 2021-2022 U.S. Supreme Court term is “a humdinger with major cases involving the biggest social issues of the day.”

With a notably altered composition after the addition of three Trump appointees, the court now features six reliably conservative members. With that makeup, SCOTUS is set to decide on significant social controversies related to abortion, the separation of church and state, government surveillance and normative clarity around the scope of free expression. 

The news cycle on these cases started back in October as oral arguments began and three decisions were already issued. The churn of news is picking back up again as some cases are just now being argued and other rulings are handed down. 

Just as this edition of ReligionLink was about to go to press, the decision on Shurtleff v. Boston came out. Then, quite dramatically a draft opinion from Justice Samuel Alito was leaked to Politico, wherein he writes that the 1973 Roe v Wade decision legalizing abortion is “egregiously wrong.” The leak is unprecedented and if the draft is issued as a majority ruling, it would overturn the constitutional right to abortion in the U.S.

The latest edition of ReligionLink will get you up to speed with background explainers, resources and experts for covering the most relevant, religion-related cases the Supreme Court is set to decide on this term — or for which it already issued judgment.

Visiting Every. Church. In. Berlin.

When Berliners Piet and Ulrike Jonas travel abroad, they head into local churches to gawk at stained glass windows, ponder over ornate altar pieces, and discern the meaning of devotional art.

“It is a way for us to get to know the place,” said Piet, “to begin to understand its history and the people who lived there.”

With church visits featuring so prominently in their vacations, Piet and Ulrike wondered if they might start doing the same in their home city.

And so, one-by-one, they began to look in on Berlin’s churches. What started as a hobby quickly turned into a goal-oriented project: to visit every church in Berlin.

Alle Kirchen Berlins was born.

According to their website, their project is simple. “We want to see all the churches in Berlin from the inside,” they wrote. According to their count, that means visiting some 450 locations. As of January 2022, they were at number 381.

The project, however, is not explicitly religious in nature. Nor is it specifically historical, architectural, or social. Instead, Piet and Ulrike said it’s about getting to know Berlin.

Along the way, they are encountering the city’s diversity and development, it’s eclecticism and surprising spiritual effervescence.

“One would not think that Berlin is an especially religious city,” said Ulrike, “and yet we are finding out just how important religion has been and still is.

More than showcasing some of the most remarkable, interesting, or site-seeable places of worship, Alle Kirchen Berlins provides insight into how we understand and negotiate what counts as religion. Moreover, the project highlights how our encounter with religion is part of the way in which contemporary societies — and cities — organize and understand themselves.

Specifically, Piet and Ulrike’s project highlights how city dwellers determine what counts as sacred and secular, how immigration has long been a part of shaping urban religious expressions, and how the notion of religion and the notion of a city are entangled with one another, the one shaping the other and vice versa.

This ain't your mama's paganism: understanding modern witchcraft, nature religions and ‘neopaganism’

As part of sweeping transformations in American religion and renewed interest in New Age spiritualities, modern paganism is tapping into a deep desire for self-empowerment, social engagement and reconnection with the natural world. 

Inspired by, or derived from, historical pagan and nature religions, modern paganism is an undeniably broad, collective category that covers a diverse range of groups that can differ greatly in belief and practice.

While Wicca and astrology have enjoyed a certain popularity for several decades, a wave of new publications has highlighted how personalized spiritual practices, home-brewed magic and shamanistic self-discovery are now enjoying their own renaissance. 

The latest edition of ReligionLink explores this new “neopaganism,” what some are calling a broader “re-paganization of religion.”

Going Hungry for God: Why Do People Fast?

“I wonder what it would be like to fast in Siberia,” my friend Mohammed asked.

Mohammed had always enjoyed Ramadan in the company of family and friends in Jordan — a Muslim-majority country in the Middle East. He was curious what it might be like to fast in places where Muslims were in the minority or where daylight hours extended late into the night, extending the fasting period beyond the limits he was used to.

According to Islamic tradition, fasting is required during Ramadan, the ninth month of its lunar calendar. In 2022, Ramadan is likely to start on April 2. For thirty days, those fasting are obligated to abstain from drinking, eating, or engaging in other indulgent activities (like sex, smoking, and activities considered sinful) from just before sunrise to sunset. Depending upon where you are in the world, that can mean fasting 10 or up-to-21 hours. It was the idea of fasting for such a potentially long time that prompted Mohammed’s ponderous question about fasting in Siberia.

Muslims are far from the only religious actors who fast. Bahá’ís fast during daylight hours during the first three weeks of March in preparation for the Naw-Rúz Festival. As this post goes to press, Christians the world over are still in the midst of their Lenten fasts and looking forward to Easter. Jews fast as part of Yom Kippur — the Day of Atonement — as a means of repentance and solemn preparation. Some Hindus regularly practice fasting as a means of willful detachment and devotion.

With such a wide range of similar aesthetic practices, one might wonder: why do so many different religious people choose to go hungry for god?

Did Muslims discover the "New World?"

Don’t you know that Muslims were the first to discover the New World?”

This is how Sheikh Youssef kicked off our conversation in Vega Alta, Puerto Rico. I was conducting research on Islam and Muslims in Puerto Rico and he wanted to make sure that I knew one thing before I went any further in my investigations. He quickly followed his initial incredulous question with a bold claim: “Muslims came here long before Columbus and Cortes and all the rest,” he said,“they were the first to come here and they did not colonize or destroy the place. That’s the difference between us and them.”

Sheikh Youssef is not alone in his reading of history. Far from it. Instead, his remarks reflect a widely held belief among Muslims — in the Americas and elsewhere — that long before Europeans set foot in Latin America, the Caribbean, or elsewhere in the American hemisphere, there were Muslim navigators, explorers, and settlers who arrived on these shores and who left evidence of their presence in maps, records, language, and cultural artifacts.

In the second chapter of my recent book The Muslims of Latin America and the Caribbean, I explore the claims, stories, the supposed evidence that supports them, and the ways in which Muslims utilize them as a means of claiming space and authenticity in the Americas today. 

Based on the available evidence, there is no reason to lend theories of “Muslim first contact” any credence or historical credibility.

And yet, the claims remain historically significant because they are just that: claims.

Before we can deal with the documented historical evidence about Muslims in the Americas arriving alongside and after European colonizers, it is important to first address claims such as Sheikh Youssef’s.

As evidence of pre-Columbian Muslim “discovery” of the “New World,” various advocates of the theory raise up the following:

• Maps from the likes of Abu al-Hasan Ali ibn al-Husain al-Mas‘udi, Abu Abdullah Muhammad al-Idrisi al-Qurtubi al-Hasani as-Sabti (better known as al-Idrisi), or Ahmed Muhiddin Piri (better known as Piri Reis) that hint at lands and peoples beyond the Atlantic.

• Pre-Columbian inscriptions, explorers’ accounts, and supposed linguistic parallels that point to West African presence in the Americas.

• Secondary sources written by the likes of Leo Weiner (Africa and the Discovery of America) or Barry Fell (Saga America), neither of whom were trained historians.

Although the evidence is spurious — and the claims effectively erase the accomplishments of the Americas’ indigenous peoples and civilizations — the reference of it affords an opportunity to consider why it is that so many different cultures and countries claim that they were the ones to “discover” the Americas in in the first place.

In my book, I suggest that although the claims lack scientific proof, it is not in architecture, society, or genealogy that we should begin thinking about Islam and Muslim communities in the Americas, but in the realm of ideas, identifications, and historical claims. 

Whatever it is that is remembered in this narrative of Muslim first contact, it is not verifiable facts, or in any case not just facts. Claims of first contact are an attempt to underscore fluctuating, marginalized, and uncertain identities with historical primacy and critique those who are able to control the narrative of a region’s identity and history. In the case of the Americas, it is a means of pushing back against Eurocentric (and predominately Christian) frames that dominate our understanding of the hemisphere.

Even though the claims are not true, they illustrate the ongoing importance of the Americas in the global Muslim imagination and the ongoing importance of discussing and debating the place of Islam in the Americas. In the end, I suggest that these claims are less about confirming pre-Columbian Muslim presence in Latin America and the Caribbean and more about claiming the region as their own today.

Thus, any assessment of these claims needs to not only examine the available evidence, but perhaps more poignantly, explore the claims’ contemporary significance for Muslims across the hemisphere.

Fictions can be full of useful truths that do real work in the world, even though they are not true. To craft a sense of identity, of belonging, takes more than facts, it takes faith. To belong is, in a sense, to believe in more than what is simply historical fact. While we must distinguish between fact and fiction — and critique the myths we know we are making — we cannot dismiss fictions that take on a truth of their own in the lives of those who believe them, claim them to be true, and advance them as historical fact.

Raising up women's voices across religious traditions

Women and girls are effective and powerful leaders and peacemakers, often playing a critical role in religious traditions across the world.  At the same time, and despite advances in gender equality, women and girls still face hurdles when it comes to having a voice in local, regional, and international religious bodies. 

On the occasion of International Women’s Day, I am sharing a few select stories that reflect how women and girls are involved in interreligious dialogue initiatives across the globe, and how their participation and leadership results in substantial and positive change. 

I invite you to explore their diverse experiences and critical perspectives on the opportunities, as well as the constraints, women and girls continue to face.

Alissa Wahid

The work of the Gusdurian Network Indonesia

Azza Karam

The Role Of Women In Faith And Diplomacy

Ela Gandhi

Serving humanity from a Gandhian perspective

KAICIID Women

Reflecting on Women’s Role in Interreligious Dialogue

What is "Religion" Anyway?

In 2013, the Disciples of the New Dawn started posting highly offensive memes on Facebook. They attacked everyone from Pagans and steampunk fans to women who had C-sections.

Tapping into fears about religious fundamentalism and public obsession with “cults,” their vitriolic posts went viral.

As the posts were shared with increasing frequency, some started to wonder whether Disciples of the New Dawn were a real religious community or just a cabal of internet trolls goading us into digital outrage (it turns out, they were the latter).

When I teach courses on religious studies, I like to use the case of the Disciples of the New Dawn as an opportunity for students to wrestle with the concept of religion itself. It prompts them to consider questions like: what makes a religion real? Or, what makes a religion ”religious” at all?

While we may feel like “we know religion when we see it,” we generally struggle to be exact when it comes to determining what counts as religion. Even if we have a vague idea, defining religion feels like pinning jello to a wall.

Which makes things difficult. Because, before can begin to dig deeper into the topic of religion, we first have to define the object of our study.

So, what is this thing we call “religion” anyway?

What you missed without religion class...

Odds are, you never took a “religious studies” class. 

If you did, it was probably a confessional course on a particular faith tradition. Maybe it was a unit in your high school’s social studies curriculum. At best, you took a “world religions” survey at college. 

Despite their benefits, none of these gave you the right tools to study religion. 

Which is weird, when you think about it. 

Because “religion is arguably the most powerful and pervasive force in the world.”

When I studied religion at the University of Florida, I learned that knowing something about religion helps us understand heaps about the world. Religious studies is about more than studying individual religions, but how religion functions as part of politics, science, economics, and society at large. 

As a scholar, newswriter, and wayward pastor, I’ve come to appreciate religious studies even more. I believe a basic literacy in “religion as part of the human experience” is key to having informed perspectives on modern life. 

In other words, I think you missed a lot without religion class. 

“What You Missed Without Religion Class” is here to help, demystifying the study of religion and discussing religion’s role in contemporary society.

Who are the exvangelicals?

Coined by Blake Chastain in 2016, the term “exvangelical” — or “exvie” — has come to encompass a wide range of individuals who have left evangelicalism, especially white evangelical churches in the U.S. 

Skeptical of institutions and unimpressed with status quo American Christianity, some have turned their back on religion. Others actively campaign against what they see as its abuses. Still others adopt more progressive versions of Christianity or simply do not self-identify as “evangelical” any longer, opting instead to go on a quest of self-discovery and deconstruction. Through hashtags such as #emptythepews, popular TikTok channels and a range of new platforms and publications, they are leaving loud, speaking out against evangelicalism on matters of politics, gender and race.

The latest edition of ReligionLink provides you with a range of resources and potential sources to understand how American Christianity’s traumas and political entanglements have triggered a crisis of faith for many.

Black Muslims' Enduring Legacy in the Americas

In St. Philip parish, on the easternmost tip of Barbados, there is a small, one-room, yellow and green “musalla.” With chipped, white wooden shutters, the prayer space looks like a mix between a chattel house and a beach kiosk, with accents of Islamic architectural flair.

Said to have been built by a local Black convert by the name of Shihabuddin at the front of his family residence, the room can fit six, maybe seven prayer rugs. Alongside four mosques, an academy, a research institute and a school, Shihabuddin’s musalla continues to act as a site of community connection for Muslims in the Caribbean island nation, despite Shihabuddin’s passing.

When one thinks of global Islam’s “representative sites,” as literary scholar Aliyah Khan calls them, images of grand mosques and significant shrines in Saudi Arabia, Palestine, Mali or Pakistan might immediately come to mind. And well they should. Yet, to overlook places such as Shihabuddin’s musalla — and other Islamic centers across the Caribbean, Latin America, the U.S. and Canada — as nodes in Islam’s worldwide networks would be to do a vast disservice to the numerous Muslims who call the hemisphere home.

In particular, it would be to sideline the significance of Black Muslims like Shihabuddin.

Beginning with the first Muslim to arrive with the Spanish in the 16th century, Black Muslims have been part of the American story, navigating enslavement, inequality and numerous other misrepresentations and marginalizations in the region for 500 years.

Today, their enduring legacy influences tens of thousands of Muslims across the region and around the globe.

The Little-Known Jewish History in the Heart of Germany

Berkach lies in the bucolic borderlands between the German states of Bavaria and Thuringia. Formerly divided by the hard boundary between former East (GDR) and West Germany, the one-time international frontier is now marked by an old watch tower, about a half mile outside the village.

But I’m not in Berkach today to chronicle its accounts of living on the fringes of the former GDR. Instead, I’m here to discover another significant aspect of the hamlet’s history, its once robust and significant Jewish life. 

As Germany looks back on 1,700 years of Jewish life in the country, dating back to a decree in Cologne in 321 they are recalling Judaism’s long, if complicated, history in central Europe. 

Visiting sites like Peter Eisenman’s Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe in Berlin or renowned Jewish museums in Frankfurt, Berlin, or Munich, one gets a sense of the enormity of what was lost in the Holocaust — in human lives, in culture, in knowledge, in history and heart. 

Yet, despite the ways each institution seeks to personalize the ambivalence of German Jewish life over the years, there is an intimacy and immediacy that is missed if those are the only places one goes. 

To get a sense of the absent presence that Germany continues to wrestle with, one must also explore smaller, provincial places like Berkach. 

A Holy Calling: Dealing with Diversity Every Day

On a recent trip to Sweden, some friends asked me about my work as a theologian, pastor, religion newswriter and scholar.

They were, understandably, a bit confused about how it all fit together. To be honest, sometimes so am I!

They were also a bit concerned.

How do I avoid a conflict of interest as a journalist? How do I deal with my outsider status as an ethnographer working with Muslim minority communities? How do I reconcile my interreligious encounters with my calling as a theologian?

Great questions.

Last month, Cristina Ochoa interviewed me for the ATLA (American Theological Library Association) blog. To say the least, I was pretty excited. The ATLA — a membership association of librarians and information professionals, and a producer of research tools, committed to advancing the study of religion and theology — often featured in my early theological research at Concordia University Irvine and I continue to use its tools today.

The result is an exploration of how my various vocations work together. It’s also a look into how I see my efforts as a religion scholar, newswriter, and theologian as part of a larger calling toward advancing religious literacy.

Weimar: The Capital of Contemporary Yiddishland?

In a clear homage to the Beatles’ 1967 “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band” album cover and its wonderful whirl of colorful visuals, the poster for this year’s Yiddish Summer Weimar (YSW) festival features a menagerie of cut-out visages: from Johann Sebastian Bach and Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, to wandering cattle and a bedecked bass drum reading, “Makonovetsky’s Wandering Stars Club Band.”

Together, the collage symbolizes the transcultural and time-spanning story of Yiddish culture and music — its progenitors and critics, its historical influences and contemporary performative interpreters.

At the center of it all stands Alan Bern.  

Bern playing the accordion. PHOTO: Yulia Kabakova, courtesy of Alan Bern

The Bloomington, Indiana-born composer, musician, educator and cultural activist made his way to Berlin, Germany in 1987. There, he helped found Brave Old World, a band described by The Washington Post as the first “supergroup” of klezmer music’s contemporary revival movement.

Klezmer music is an instrumental tradition of Ashkenazi Jews of Europe. Simply meaning “musician,” the word “klezmer” reflects, and conveys, its broader Yiddish roots.

A spoken language of a considerable portion of Ashkenazi Jews for centuries, Yiddish emerged in 9th-century Europe as a mix of German vernacular, written Hebrew, and Aramaic, Slavic, and Romantic linguistic influences and vocabulary. Meaning “Jewish” in the language itself, Yiddish is also the vehicle for a rich culture heritage of everyday Jewish life and celebration: proverbs, humor, idioms and music.

Over the last 30-odd years, klezmer – and Yiddish language and culture in general – has been enjoying quite the comeback.

Knoblauch Klezmer Band · Moustache

In the midst of this rejuvenation, Bern and Brave Old World were invited to conduct a workshop on Yiddish music in the central German city of Weimar as part of the European Summer Academy in 1999. The workshop was a wild success and Bern became the founding artistic director of what is now known as YSW — a five-week summer institute and festival for the study, creation and performance of Yiddish culture and music in the heart of Germany.

Today, it is one of the most widely recognized programs for the renewal of Yiddish culture in the world, receiving awards from the European Union and the German Music Council, among others. In 2016 Bern was awarded the Weimar Prize in recognition of his significant cultural contributions to the city.

For Bern, YSW is about more than showcasing Yiddish music; it’s about exploring Yiddish culture as a complex, and continually evolving, convergence of European and non-European customs. It’s also about empowering people for creativity and connection on a continent evermore marked by diversity and difference.

The Value of Interreligious Engagement

While I was long interested in getting to know people of faith traditions other than my own, it was probably during my time serving at Arizona State University (ASU) that I came to appreciate the true value of interreligious engagement.

Working together with imams, rabbis, pastors, and leaders as part of the Council of Religious Advisors (CORA) at ASU, I learned how important it was for people of multiple faiths to cooperate for the sake of good will and dialogue on college campuses.

That’s why it was a true joy and special honor to be a guest on the “Neighbors of Faith” podcast, hosted by Rev. Bart Loos. Bart is a friend and colleague from SoCal, who currently serves at the University of California Los Angeles (UCLA). As part of his wider efforts there, he launched a podcast that puts him in conversation with leaders and learners of different religious traditions.

In this episode, we talk about the why, what, and how of interreligious engagement as I share some stories and insights from my work in that realm over the last decade.

Public Lecture: What hath ethnography to do with religion journalism?

Diversity and difference continue to pose a pronounced challenge to the public understanding of religion.

For decades, both religion scholars and journalists have striven to address religious pluralism and advance religious literacy through a range of critical research and explanatory reporting. One shared aspect between them has been the use of immersive techniques in order to offer more nuanced, contextual, and longform narratives of the miscellany of religious traditions.

On the one hand, ethnographers of religion have produced textured analyses of religious individuals, socialities, rituals, and material cultures, further refining and complicating our understanding of what “religion” is and how it is lived in particular places. On the other hand, some religion newswriters are afforded the opportunity to take deep dives into religious actors’ lives and contexts and tell their stories in popular fashion via features, podcasts, and video stories.

Despite their differences, qualitative religious studies scholarship and religion journalism have more in common than usually acknowledged.

As part of the series "Erfurt Monday Lectures: New Topics in Religious Studies” at the University of Erfurt, I will share some insights and reflections as both an ethnographer and a journalist and how my research and reporting on religion has led me to explore questions related to the ethics, norms, and aesthetics of both fields and how they might work together to shine light on how religion and spirituality function in the lives of religious actors and socialities in a diverse array of locales and from multiple points of view.

The event will be Monday, 21 June 2021 at 5:00 pm Central European Time (11:00 am EDT/8:00 PDT). You can learn more about the event HERE, register ahead of time via e-mail, or simply attend the event at the link below (requires WebEx software).

If you have any questions, be sure to reach out to me as well: k.chitwood@fu-berlin.de.

Health Concerns in Religious Communities: Challenges and Approaches

During the course of the pandemic, religious leaders have often found themselves on the frontlines of the global health crisis. In addition to adapting rituals to new norms of social distancing and digital worship, religious leaders became humanitarian aid providers, medical responders, and local information experts.

Now, as the world focuses on vaccine rollout and returning to some sense of normalcy in the months and years to come, religious communities and leaders, as with society at large, have to confront challenges posed by mistrust of science or government, vaccine disinformation, and concerns. In some quarters over whether the vaccine aligns with religious values and law.

At an April 2021 workshop Sarah Hess, Sally Smith, and Melinda Frost of the Information Network for Epidemics (EPI-WIN), Health Emergencies Programme at the World Health Organization (WHO) shared their insights on the importance of working with religious communities during the crisis. They also shared some tools and best practices for religious communities to confront this all-embracing global health emergency.

Respecting their holy places as our own

As fighting continues in the Tigray region of northern Ethiopia, both an historic church that claims to house the “Ark of the Covenant” and one of sub-Saharan Africa’s oldest mosques recently came under attack, with hundreds killed in the violence.

This is one example of how religious sites are becoming increasingly vulnerable. Muslims have been murdered in mosques, Jews assaulted in synagogues, Sikhs, Christians, and others killed at worship, and religious cemeteries and sites vandalised across the globe.

To help prevent such violence and promote peaceful consensus, the World Organization of the Scout Movement (WOSM) and the International Dialogue Centre (KAICIID) co-sponsored the “United in Diversity: Preservation of Cultural and Religious Sites” webinar on 12 May 2021.

Speakers addressed the responsibility of religious communities to address the protection of not only their traditions’ religious sites, cultural heritage, and historical experience, but also those of others.

Each underscored what United Nations Secretary General António Guterres wrote in his preface to the United Nations’ Plan of Action to Safeguard Religious Sites: “Religious sites and all places of worship and contemplation should be safe havens, not sites of terror or bloodshed.”

From focal points of conflict to “places of exchange”

The Plan of Action was part of the UN's response to the 2019 attacks against mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand, which caused the deaths of 51 people, said Dr. Paul Morris, UNESCO Chair in Interreligious Understanding and Relations at Victoria University of Wellington, New Zealand.

The attack illustrated how sacred sites can become symbolic vehicles for expressing hatred, Morris said.

“Religious sites play a role in collective identity, mobilising communities, and in individual and communal cohesion and well-being,” he said. At the same time, however, “they can also become focal points of conflict and terror,” he added.

Morris hopes that the UN Plan of Action will not only protect sacred sites, but enhance their roles as “meeting points” and “places of exchange.”

Religious sites are a living heritage, or “treasures” that can “foster dialogue and respect for diversity,” he added.

Protecting sacred heritage in Thailand and India

Lertchanta Ally Seeluangsawat, Scouts of the World Award (SWA) Coordinator for Thailand Kaengkrachan Riverside Scout Camp, shared with participants her experiences working with Scouts pursuing their SWA at Sukhothai, a historic town in the north of Thailand.

Sukhothai, the capital of the first Kingdom of Siam in the 13th- and 14th-centuries. (PHOTO: Peter Borter)

Scouts come to Sukhothai not only to learn about its history, but also to ensure its preservation: “They not only get information about a place, but also serve and help protect and sustain it,” she said.

Sukhothai – the capital of the first Kingdom of Siam in the 13th- and 14th-centuries – is one of the first UNESCO World Heritage Sites to benefit from the Scouts’ new World Heritage Recognition Achievement programme. The programme derives from a 2018 agreement between UNESCO and the WOSM through which Scouts learn to appreciate and help preserve World Heritage Sites globally.

Seeluangsawat explained that throughout the programme, she emphasises to the Scouts that Sukhothai is part of their heritage, towards which they owe a duty of care:  “I always tell them, ‘it is your duty to do something. If you do not do it, who will? If not now, when?’”

Scout Chetan Mogral's programme involves the preservation of a less tangible expression of heritage and tradition in India.

Mogral described how he works to preserve a sacred dance called barathyanatyam as well as a cultural folk fair known as Yakshagana. Together, they represent an important link between India’s past and present, he said.

“The protection of any kind of art — or site — is only possible when it is being passed on to the next generation,” said Mogral, “when people know the history and understand themselves as part of it.”

“Respect their holy places as our own”

Rabbi Ioni Shalom of the Latin American Jewish Congress told webinar participants that one of the greatest challenges involves learning to appreciate and protect the heritage of other cultures and religions as well as one's own.

Ohel Jakob Synagogue in Munich, Germany. (PHOTO: Ken Chitwood)

 "If a place is sacred to someone else, how can I learn to have empathy with what someone else feels for that site? How can I appreciate why the ‘Other’ finds a place holy?” participants were told.

Shalom shared a story of his own journey of understanding in Israel and Palestine where he found in his interaction with Christians and Muslims along the way why they found places to be sacred through the prism of their own traditions: “Through the process, I not only learned how others felt, but we became friends,” he said.

“When you have this closeness to the other it is easier to understand, but also grow together,” he added. “So what happened there on that trip is that we not only understand the thinking of the other but also feel what the other felt.”

KAICIID Fellow Fatima Madaki closed the webinar by sharing how she attempts to achieve the same experience with Christian and Muslim youth in Nigeria.

Through “Building Consensus on the Protection of Holy Sites,” an interfaith peacebuilding project promoting the protection of holy sites from destruction and desecration in northern Nigeria, Madaki aimed to show participants how “places of worship need to be recognised as sanctuaries of peace for many.”

Madaki said she focused on helping people on both sides “know the value of what we are losing, that we are destroying more than a building.”

Through women and youth-led mentorship programmes, participants learned “that there is value in holding exchanges, working with one another, rather than against,” said Madaki.

“It is only if we experience and understand the ‘Other,’” said Madaki, “we can expand our perspective and respect their holy places as our own.”

Why al-Aqsa mosque is so often the site of conflict

The violence that spread from Jerusalem to cities across Israel and the Palestinian territories, leaving at least 60 dead so far, has both historical and contemporary roots.

In recent weeks, tension has flared over the eviction of Palestinian families in Sheikh Jarrah, East Jerusalem, Israeli authorities blocking access to the important Damascus Gate plaza during Ramadan, and a march of thousands of Israeli ultra-nationalists through the city on May 6, 2021, in celebration of “Jerusalem Day,” which marks the capture of East Jerusalem in 1967. 

But the one incident that led to a significant escalation involved Israeli security forces firing rubber-coated bullets, tear gas and stun grenades at worshipers gathered at al-Aqsa mosque on May 7.

When I teach introduction to Islam, I include a discussion about al-Aqsa as part of the syllabus. That’s because Al-Aqsa has deep religious significance for Muslims around the world. But, it is also important to highlight its remarkable political relevance for Palestinians. These two facts often make it a focal point for conflict.

The night journey of Muhammad

The Masjid al-Aqsa, or simply al-Aqsa, means “the farthest mosque” or “the farthest sanctuary,” and refers to the lead-domed mosque within the sacred precinct of Haram al-Sharif – “the Noble Enclosure.” The precinct includes the Dome of the Rock, the four minarets, the compound’s historic gates and the mosque itself.

Mentioned in Sura 17, verse 1 of the Quran, the mosque is linked to the story of Muhammad’s Isra – the “night journey” from Mecca to Jerusalem – that in part confirms him as the last and most authoritative of the prophets for Muslims. The Quran says the prophet was “carried…by night from the Sacred Mosque [in Mecca] to the Farthest Mosque [al-Aqsa], whose precincts we have blessed.” 

From there, it is believed that Muhammad ascended to heaven – called the Mir'aj. The Dome of the Rock – Qubbat as-Sakhra – is said to shelter the rock from where Muhammad physically ascended.

The mosque’s origins stretch back to the seventh century. It was first built in 637 C.E., just five years after the prophet’s death. It has been destroyed, rebuilt and renovated multiple times.

The current building largely dates to the 11th century and hosts daily prayers and Friday gatherings that draw large crowds. It lies adjacent to important Jewish and Christian religious locales, particularly the site of the First and Second Jewish Temples. 

At times, the Dome of the Rock – a shrine – and al-Aqsa – a mosque – have been confused as one and the same. While part of the same “Noble Sanctuary,” they are two distinct buildings with different histories and purposes. 

However, the term al-Aqsa is sometimes used to indicate the entire “Noble Sanctuary” complex. Originally, it is believed that the term “the farthest sanctuary” referred to Jerusalem as a whole. 

The Dome of the Rock, which shelters the rock from which Muhammad is believed to have ascended to heaven (PHOTO: Ken Chitwood)

Place in Islamic history

After Mecca and Medina, the vast majority of Muslims worldwide consider Jerusalem the third holiest place on Earth. 

Referenced frequently in Islamic tradition and hadith – records of something the Prophet Muhammad said, did or tacitly approved of – it is believed that while in Mecca, Muhammad originally oriented his community’s prayers toward al-Aqsa.

In 622 C.E., the community fled Mecca because of persecution, seeking refuge in Medina to the north. After a little over a year there, Muslims believe God instructed Muhammad to face back toward Mecca for prayers. In Surah 2, verses 149-150, the Quran says, “turn thy face toward the Sacred Mosque [the Kaaba in Mecca]…wheresoever you may be, turn your faces toward it.”

Nonetheless, Jerusalem and its sacred locales – specifically al-Aqsa and the Dome of the Rock – have remained sites of Islamic pilgrimage for 15 centuries.

The ‘most sensitive site’ in conflict

Given its sacred significance, there was great concern about the precinct’s fate after Israel’s victory in the 1967 Arab-Israeli War and its subsequent annexation of East Jerusalem.

Although Israel granted jurisdiction of the mosque and complex to an Islamic waqf – “endowment” – Israel still commands access to the grounds and security forces regularly perform patrols and conduct searches within the precinct. Under the Preservation of the Holy Places Law, the Israeli government has also allowed entry to different religious groups – such as Christian pilgrims. 

Many Israelis respect the sanctity of the place as the holiest site in Judaism. In 2005, the chief rabbinate of Israel said it is forbidden for Jews to walk on the site to avoid accidentally entering the Holy of Holies - the inner sanctum of the Temple, God’s place of promised presence on earth. Nonetheless, certain ultra-Orthodox Jewish groups controversially advocate for greater access and control of the site, seeking to reclaim the historic Temple Mount in order to rebuild the Temple.

Described as “the most sensitive site in the Israel-Palestinian conflict,” it has frequently been host to political acts. 

Riot gear on hand near an entrance to the “Noble Sanctuary,” Jerusalem. (PHOTO: Ken Chitwood)

For example, in August 1969, an Australian Christian named Dennis Michael Rohan attempted to burn down al-Aqsa, destroying the historically significant and intricately carved minbar – or “pulpit” – of Saladin, a treasured piece of Islamic art.

On Sept. 28, 2000, Israeli opposition leader Ariel Sharon and a delegation guarded by hundreds of Israeli riot police entered the precinct. This sparked protests and a violent crackdown by Israeli authorities, with multiple casualties. Many Muslims worldwide considered this a “desecration” of the sacred mosque, and the event helped ignite the Second Intifada, or Palestinian uprising. 

Tensions peaked again after an attack on Yehuda Glick, a controversial right-wing rabbi, in autumn 2014. In response, Israeli authorities closed down access to al-Aqsa for the first time since 1967. In March and April of that year, Israeli police used tear gas and stun grenades on Palestinians inside Al-Aqsa, prompting international outcry. 

Numerous other incidents between Israeli forces and worshipers have occurred at al-Aqsa in recent years. 

Controlled access to the site reminds Palestinians of their relative powerlessness in their ongoing land disputes with Israeli authorities. At the same time, attacks at al-Aqsa resonate with Muslims across the world who react with horror to what they see as the desecration of one of their most sacred sites. 

Defending al-Aqsa and fighting for rights to access it, I argue, have become proxy conflicts for both Palestinian claims and the need to defend Islam as a whole.