The DIM·MID Peace Council
When I first took on the role of Secretary General for
DIM·MID, I had a vague idea of forming an advisory board for my own benefit, one
composed of leaders from various religious traditions who could keep me
informed about developments in their communities and guide me in approaching
sensitive topics with care. I kept this idea in mind during my first months in
Rome as I worked through the list of contacts my predecessor Father William
Skudlarek had left me—individuals involved in interreligious dialogue who could
serve as valuable resources.
One of those meetings was with Professor Gianni La Bella of
the Sant’Egidio Community. Our conversation was particularly illuminating and
later became the basis of the regular conference I now give around the world to
describe the work of Monastic Interreligious Dialogue. At the end of our visit,
I asked Professor La Bella what he thought I should do with the organization.
Without hesitation, he suggested that we organize an annual international
interreligious gathering to pray for and reflect on “peace as a universal
patrimony.” I must admit that my heart sank; organizing an annual international
gathering was the last thing I wanted to take on. Yet as I walked away from our
meeting in Trastevere that morning, it began to feel like both a worthy
challenge and a noble endeavor. Soon after, it occurred to me that this
gathering could become the very purpose of the advisory board—a steering
committee to guide such an initiative.
I began recruiting members, starting with my dear Muslim
friend Aaron Maniam, now a professor at Oxford. When we first met, Aaron was
working for the government of Singapore and was already deeply engaged in
interreligious initiatives. I then invited Rabbi Paula Marcus of California,
who is deeply involved in social justice work and in issues concerning the Holy
Land, and my brother and fellow guitarist, Rev. Heng Sure, a Buddhist monk and
longtime friend of DIM·MID. Next came Arzoo Ahmed, a perceptive young Muslim
professional from England who works for one of Europe’s largest medical
research agencies, and Lucas Tse, a Chinese scholar and historian currently at
Oxford, whom I first met in California and who was working on his own
translation of the Tao Te Ching, an area I have long hoped to bring more
fully into our work.
I also invited Siddhartha Krishna, a remarkable Hindu pandit
from northern India whom I met in Rishikesh through a mutual friend. He speaks
several languages, including fluent Sanskrit, having been raised by a father
who is a noted Gandhian scholar, and a Swiss mother who is a respected yoga
teacher in the lineage of B.K.S. Iyengar. I met Weh’na Ka’mu Kwasset Sherri
Mitchell during a webinar on which we were both panelists. She is a member of
the Penobscot Nation in the northeastern United States and works as a lawyer
advocating for Indigenous land rights globally, including with the United
Nations. (I have written elsewhere about the need for humanity to recover three
essential dimensions—the body, the earth, and the feminine—and how traditional
religions hold particular wisdom in these areas.)
To complement this group, I recruited several Christian
theologians: Debora Tonelli, who works at Georgetown’s Rome campus and
specializes in violence in scripture; Rev. Adam Bucko, an Episcopal priest and
author from New York known for his leadership in the new monasticism; and
Piotr Zygulski, a young Italian-Polish theologian whose doctoral work at Sophia
University (Firenze) focused on Muslim-Christian dialogue had greatly impressed
me.
Finally, I included my trusted advisor Mark Hansen, an American who has lived
for many years in Singapore. Mark brings deep expertise in international
affairs and serves on advisory boards for both the American Camaldolese and the
World Community for Christian Meditation.
Since a central theme had been suggested by Professor La
Bella, we adopted the name “The Peace Council.” (This was before the formation
of Mr. Trump’s “Board of Peace,” which unfortunately translates into Italian in
the same way as our group, Consiglio di Pace.) We met monthly online for
the following year. At each session, I would introduce a topic or text and then
open the floor for discussion. More than once, I remarked that a transcript of
those conversations would make a fascinating book. The depth of insight and the
breadth of common ground we discovered were both striking and deeply
gratifying.
As we began discussing how to organize the larger gathering
that had originally inspired the group, I found myself growing uneasy. I shared
this concern, explaining that I did not think we were ready to launch something
so ambitious without first meeting in person. I suggested that we gather as a
small group before moving forward. To my relief, the response was
overwhelmingly positive, and we arranged to meet during the last weekend of May
here in Rome, at the Monastery of San Gregorio where I live.
I took a firm hand in organizing this first gathering,
explaining that I wanted it to function as a retreat, with myself serving as
retreat master. We held six sessions of lectio divina together. I used a
method of group lectio that I learned years ago and have since adapted and
shared worldwide, though this was my first time applying it in an
interreligious context. I asked participants from each scripture-based
tradition to select a text on peace that they felt represented their tradition.
We then followed a consistent structure: multiple readings of the text,
followed by the sharing of a word, then a phrase, then a teaching, and finally
an open discussion, concluding with silent meditation for the contemplatio
phase. Music accompanied our sessions, and texts were often chanted or recited
in their original languages—Hebrew, Arabic, and Chinese among them. I am happy
to report that the experience was both profound and deeply successful for all
involved.
We concluded with a beautiful outdoor ritual led by Sherri,
including a blessing of the directions and prayers for the sick and the dead.
Originally, I had hoped to meet at our motherhouse in Camaldoli, surrounded by
the silence of its ash forests, but that was not possible. Instead, we gathered
in a small, quiet park nearby, which proved to be a fitting and grounding
conclusion to our time together and helped solidify our bonds of friendship.
We also shared an early morning meditation each day and
participated in the monastic prayers—both here with the brothers and once at
Sant’Anselmo for solemn second Vespers for the Solemnity of the Holy Trinity,
which the group found very moving. In between were lively conversations over
meals and evening walks through Rome. On the final day, we visited the
Dicastery for Interreligious Dialogue, where we met Cardinal George Jacob
Koovakad, prefect, Monsignor Indunil Janakaratne Kodithuwakku Kankanamalage, secretary,
and Father Paulin Batairwa Kubuya,
undersecretary. Father Bonaventure Mwenda also joined us later. They seemed
genuinely impressed by the group’s reflections, and it was heartening to see
smaller conversations emerge organically—Father Paulin speaking Mandarin with Rev.
Heng Sure, and Father Bonaventure discussing African traditional religions with
Sherri.
One participant described the entire experience as nothing
less than ecstatic.
We will now begin planning an expanded gathering for next
year, with carefully chosen additional participants. I am confident that we
have made a strong beginning. From the outset, I have understood that among the
four forms of dialogue encouraged by the church, our particular mandate is the
dialogue of religious experience. I believe we have found a meaningful way to
embody that calling—remaining rooted in our own traditions while remaining open
to truth as it is revealed through others. For my part, what moved me most
deeply was witnessing the love each participant holds for their own tradition
and sacred texts. More than ever, I am convinced of the importance of learning
what lies at the heart of each tradition and, as Nostra aetate teaches,
of striving to “recognize, preserve, and promote” these treasures.