Many have suggested that the appeal of pop culture on Facebook (and Twitter and MySpace) is symptomatic of moral decline and perhaps even the end of religion – with the assumption, of course, that the two go together. But that fear has existed for generations, with every breakthrough in communication. Radio, records, and television were all thought to lead to the end of faith at one point or another. But there is no end to religion in sight. The idea that social media could somehow snuff it out after it survived centuries of technological advancement is unfounded. Religion is dynamic and has long been able to adapt to social change.

In fact, social networking sites may be of tremendous help to religious communities. They bring together people with strong religious convictions more than ever before. Just have a look at the “Jesus Daily” fanpage on Facebook, which has almost 3,000,000 members, or the fanpage for “Prophet Muhammad (Peace be Upon Him),” which has nearly 130,000. Imagine a religious congregation with 130,000 or even 3,000,000 members! The hundreds of thousands of people gathering on these fanpages are looking for religious inspiration, companionship, and community and apparently find it to one degree or another online.

Religion is in fact one of the most powerful forces in the age of social media. It is a core part of the landscape, with fanpages and twitter profiles creating what some might consider to be virtual churches, synagogues, and mosques within the broader online panorama.

A number of websites are responding to the large and growing presence of religion in social media. Just take for example Patheos, which fills a gap in multi-perspective coverage of religious issues; the Washington Post has added the On Faith blog to its repertoire; the Huffington Post has similarly added the HuffPost Religion column to engage with challenging and timely topics; and the Journal of Inter-Religious Dialogue is working to bring religious scholarship and leadership together online. If anything, the challenge is not one of insufficient demand for religious content – the supposed indication of moral decline – but the presence of too few websites to fill it online.

Yet what is most remarkable about the age of social media and online tools is not the membership within religious communities or even the use of new technology to express those affiliations. Rather, it is the extent to which practitioners of different religions interact with one another. It is now possible to be learning about one religious community by way of its Facebook fanpage while gaining insight into another in a different window, studying Torah while gchatting with an Imam, following a guided meditation on one website while receiving an e-mail from a preacher on another.

For many, the multiplicity of options and interactions may seem like a cacophony – the cause for confusion, syncretism, and, yes, a different sort of decline for religion. Though these conclusions may lack nuance, they are certainly incomplete. Inter-religious interactions may in fact strengthen one’s own religious identity, while creating the opportunity for meaningful dialogue about hot-button issues.

To give a personal example, when I was living in Israel during the 2008 – 2009 academic year, I wrote an article for Sightings that cited the extended period of tolerance in al-Andalus (often known as “Muslim Spain” – the parts of the Iberian Peninsula controlled from 711 until 1492 by a series of Muslim groups) as a historical example of coexistence that we can draw from for inspiration. A few days later, I received an e-mail from an Iraqi reporter who was surprised and excited to find that Jews, Muslims, and Christians had ever lived together in such a positive way. He wanted to hear more from me about my views – especially as a future rabbi – and was even interested in writing an article on the topic.

After googling him, I decided to go ahead with the interview. I had seldom met anyone from Iraq but wanted to do whatever possible to improve inter-religious relations. The resulting article, “Jews and Muslims lived in peace with each other,” surprised me as much as I think it did the author himself. For me what was surprising was that my comments had been at all unique. As an American, I had many Muslim friends, and having fun with them had long eclipsed simply trying to ‘live in peace.’ But to the journalist who interviewed me, the idea that a future rabbi would ever cite a historical period in which Muslims and Jews coexisted – much less hope for positive interactions in the future – was astounding.

In spite of our different frames of reference, living in the Middle East gave us both a sense of immediacy in our interaction. The reporter wanted someone to affirm the potential for positive relations between Jews and Muslims, and I wanted to affirm it. Across several countries still technically at war, we found a common space to communicate online. Now Facebook friends, we periodically continue to dialogue – even as we adhere to different religions and hold entirely different worldviews.

I am just one person who was fortunate enough to have positive inter-religious exchanges online. Though perhaps not ‘transformed’ by them, I certainly was enriched and affirmed.  I am not alone in this experience. But the question remains how to create a sustainable, accessible space and format for these online interactions. Many organizations are working to formulate an answer. The future of inter-religious engagement will in large part take form in the answers that succeed.

This article was originally published on Patheos.

Friday, October 22, 2010, 9 a.m. - 6 p.m.Duquesne University, Pittsburgh, Pa.

"The State of Muslim-Christian Dialogue in Africa - What Can African Interlocutors Learn from Ongoing Muslim-Christian Dialogue in the U.S.?"

Symposium Topics
* Dialogue Between Muslims and Christians in the United States: hopes and obstacles.    * Moving Christian-Muslim Interactions Forward in the United States – a sociological review.    * Building Healthy Muslim-Christian Relationships through Community Healthcare in the United States.    * Today's Challenges for Muslim-Christian Relationships in West Africa.    * The Economic and Human Costs of Muslim-Christian conflicts in Nigeria in the last 20 years.    * The Political and Social Implications of Muslim-Christian Conflicts in Africa.

Keynote Speakers

Professor Lamin Sanneh,  D. Willis James Professor of Missions & World Christianity,  Yale Divinity School
Dr. Zeki Saritopra,  Nursi Chair of Islamic Studies, John Carroll University

Panelists

Dr. Cyril Orji, University of Dayton, Dayton, OH
Dr. Sarah Louise MacMillen, Sociology Department, Duquesne University
Dr. Khlood Salman, School of Nursing, Duquesne University
Dr. Marinus Iwuchukwu, Theology Department, Duquesne University

Organized by the Duquesne University Christian-Muslim Dialogue Committee

Recently, investors behind the controversial 13-story Islamic community center destined to be built blocks from Ground Zero announced a nondescript new name for the project – “Park51” – after the development’s address at 51 Park Place.

The center was originally christened the “Córdoba House” in an understated allusion to the intellectual legacy of Moorish Andalusia. Unfortunately, the project’s label raised objection from high-profile detractors such as Newt Gingrich who found the reference “deliberately insulting.” Who would have guessed the Umayyad defeat of the Visigoths in 8th century al-Andalus would so offend Gingrich’s sense of good taste in 2010?

However skewed the historical perspective, Mr. Gingrich’s sentiments have been roundly echoed. Despite rebranding the project, Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf’s would-be community center has been taken to task for its location, its mission and its name. Sadly, efforts to promote dialogue have been re-imagined as a cunning endorsement of a medieval Caliphate that conquered Christendom and ruled Spain’s non-Muslims with an iron fist.

So, what’s in a name, anyways? Apparently, that which we shall oppose.

Political pundits – most of whom should know better – are eager to spitball hysterical allusions about Park51. It’s been deemed a cultural insult on par with the construction of a Japanese naval museum at Pearl Harbor or a Radovan Karadzic shrine at Srebrenica. That a so-called “mega-mosque” might be constructed near Ground Zero is not a win for tolerance and religious freedom; rather, it has been cast as a victory lap for radical jihad and the keystone of an Islamo-American caliphate. Now, "from Sea to shining Sea", hundreds of miles from lower Manhattan, proposed mosques have met with similar protest. In Murfreesboro, Sheybogan, and Temecula, protestors would deny their fellow Americans the right to worship peacefully.

Amid the anger, the legacy of Córdoba has been lost. Those insulted by the name seem determined to forget that for many Muslims, the “Saracenic” capital of Córdoba marked a high water mark for Islamic cultural partnership, technological advancement and religious harmony.

So let’s revisit history.

Muslim Spain began with the establishment of the Andalusian Ummayad dynasty, that lasted from 756 to 1031 AD. Abd al-Rahman founded the Emirate of Córdoba, and is credited with inspiring a “golden age” of learning where both Muslims and non-Muslims made major contributions to society and culture, at large. At its height, Córdoba was home to some 500,000 residents, 60,000 palaces, 900 public baths, 700 mosques, and 70 libraries making it the most sophisticated polity in medieval Europe. Tolerance was a basic tenet of Andalusian culture, and the Muslim, Jewish and Christian population collaborated to develop the global epicenter of theology, astronomy, mathematics, nutrition, philosophy, social theory and law. Commercial banking, three-course meals, the medical discipline of surgery – mercifully complimented by the practice of inhalant anesthesia – and Europe’s first street lamps emerged from this early age of enlightenment. Of course, such achievement would not have been realized had the scholarly class not reached a life expectancy of up to 75 years by the 11th century.

Christian scholars visiting Spain from France and England translated Arabic versions of Greek classics and the works of Muslim philosophers into Latin. Thomas Aquinas glowingly cited the work of Ibn Rushd and Ibn Sina, who were even given Latin names – Averroes and Avicenna – so celebrated was their work in Christendom. Aquinas explored many of the same topics as his Muslim peers in Córdoba, and believed that rational discourse could link Christianity and Islam. All believed in reason over violence. Contrast this to the logic of contemporary Crusade-think that held the slaughter of Muslims glorified Christ, and one can better appreciate Córdoba’s legacy of tolerance.

Córdoba brought the three Abrahamic faiths together in relative peace and harmony. Muslims recognized Jews and Christians as "people of the Book" and they were generally left to follow their own faith and customs provided they paid a small tax. Sadly, when Córdoba was recaptured by Christian forces during the Reconquista in 1236, it quickly became a hub of activity against Spain’s remaining Muslim population. Ultimately, however, many of the city’s advancements were inherited by Europe and laid the groundwork for both the Renaissance and Scientific Revolution.

Would medieval Córdoba be considered tolerant by 21st century, American standards? Probably not. However, Jews, Christians and Muslims did manage to live, work and learn together due to an intricate and enduring culture of tolerance. They aspired to build a working society that the valued its religious freedoms, open debate, scientific achievement, art and architecture.

Of course, none of this is new or uncommon knowledge. Yet it stands in contrast to the notion that the Córdoba Initiative is a deliberate insult to American tolerance. So while the name of the mosque and community center has been changed, one must hope its historical legacy will remain.

Perhaps a reconsideration of our neighbors, our faith and our future together will help in the healing. It can begin with Córdoba, both past and present.

Reid Smith has worked as a research associate specializing on U.S. policy in the Middle East and as a political speechwriter. He joined the University of Delaware’s Department of Political Science and International Relations as a graduate associate and doctoral candidate in fall 2010, and writes a regular blog for the Foreign Policy Association regarding Iraq.

Response by Liane Carlson

From his prison cell, Oscar Wilde wrote his former lover a long, recriminatory letter, accusing him, among other things, of sentimentality. “The fact is that you were and are still, I suppose, a typical sentimentalist.  For a sentimentalist is simply one who desires to have the luxury of an emotion without paying for it.  You think one can have one’s emotions for nothing.  One cannot...  You should pass out of that conception of life.  As soon as you have to pay for an emotion you will know its quality and be better for that knowledge.” READ MORE HERE.

Response by Michael VanZandt Collins

For me, it is very difficult to compartmentalize the concept of mortality as an “end of life” issue. Furthermore, to isolate such a subject leads one to overlook not just the inevitability but also the fruits of death. There is the commonplace religious view of death that is endorsed through the ages even by the likes of Jack Kerouac. As his alter ego Ray Smith, Kerouac tells his Buddhist compatriot, “death is the reward.”  In his explicitly Catholic view, after our earthly suffering we arrive at a place of fulfillment. He says that any preconceptions of eternal damnation are the product of “some hysterical monks who didn’t understand Buddha’s peace under the Bo Tree or for that matter Christ’s peace looking down on the heads of his tormentors and forgiving them.” Death ushers in a reign and ethos of love. READ MORE HERE.

Response by Anna DeWeese

Death – possibly the one aspect of humanity that people have been trying to fight, avoid, halt and otherwise disrupt longer than any other aspect of the human condition. The very idea of dying is scary for many, as it seems for all of our efforts there is nothing we can do to stop it. Religions have certainly dealt with the death question at great length and breadth; and some see the very existence of religions as a mass coping mechanism for realizing our existence as finite, limited, mortal beings. Throughout periods of Christian history deathbed confessions of faith were quite common – one could live without fear of eternal repercussions of one’s actions, so long as your final act was one of repentance in order to save your immortal soul. READ MORE HERE.

From his prison cell, Oscar Wilde wrote his former lover a long, recriminatory letter, accusing him, among other things, of sentimentality. “The fact is that you were and are still, I suppose, a typical sentimentalist.  For a sentimentalist is simply one who desires to have the luxury of an emotion without paying for it.  You think one can have one’s emotions for nothing.  One cannot...  You should pass out of that conception of life.  As soon as you have to pay for an emotion you will know its quality and be better for that knowledge.”

A few months before my grandmother died, I became obsessed with this passage.  Maybe it was the ever-present empty indignation of graduate school, maybe it was the sudden horrified recognition it inspired of my own lack of emotional discipline.  Regardless, it somehow seemed distressingly clear how much of my emotional life - of anyone’s, it seemed, but I could only judge my own - was counterfeit, a play of feelings created to keep me entertained.  And I began to wonder what it would look like to pay for an emotion, and if I had ever had an emotion I’d really earned.

And then my grandmother died.  It was the first significant death of my adult life.  The details aren’t necessary, and are private, besides, but it’s enough to say that as the priest shook my grandfather’s hand and murmured that “she was in a better place,” I understood for the first time very viscerally the sort of comfort that belief offered.  Not for me, though - for my grandfather.  I rejected it immediately, not because it seemed implausible or irrational or any of the reasons that people usually trot out, but because it seemed to miss the only thing we could learn from her death: how much we had loved her.  Because the extent of our grief corresponds to the magnitude of our love.  To believe that she lived on seemed a way to avoid grieving, to skirt the enormity of the loss and the corresponding preciousness of her life.  Unmediated grief was clean, in a certain way; it was what it meant to pay for an emotion.  This, I think, is what’s at stake for Hitchens, to some extent.

But then there was my grandfather, who had loved her for 60 years.  I didn’t know what I would feel in his place.  Maybe I would need that belief to stay sane.  Maybe my desire to do without that comfort just meant that I hadn’t loved her enough.  But as I looked at him, and imagined what I would feel to have a man 40 years my junior tell me that my wife lived on, as if he knew what he was talking about, I wondered if the act of will wasn’t to refrain from believing in the afterlife, but, in depths of nihilistic grief, to believe at all.  I wondered if death blurs the line between belief and non-belief, is it because we all need that comfort, or, rather, that grief makes atheists of us all.  Why else would you need the priest there to remind you?

For me, it is very difficult to compartmentalize the concept of mortality as an “end of life” issue. Furthermore, to isolate such a subject leads one to overlook not just the inevitability but also the fruits of death. There is the commonplace religious view of death that is endorsed through the ages even by the likes of Jack Kerouac. As his alter ego Ray Smith, Kerouac tells his Buddhist compatriot, “death is the reward.”  In his explicitly Catholic view, after our earthly suffering we arrive at a place of fulfillment. He says that any preconceptions of eternal damnation are the product of “some hysterical monks who didn’t understand Buddha’s peace under the Bo Tree or for that matter Christ’s peace looking down on the heads of his tormentors and forgiving them.” Death ushers in a reign and ethos of love. However, is religion necessary to accompany death and to reach one’s fulfillment? The French author, Marcel Proust, for himself thought that death should be handled as a commonplace element of every human life and every day, whether “surrounded” by death at the moment or not. Human nature once confronted with the prospect of impending death often activated a person to face life with ebullience and urgency. Otherwise, humans have a tendency to lapse into complacency, a false belief of one’s immortality.

Death is not to be sought in and of itself but for the change that it produces. The understanding and acceptance of death brings one to a spirit of loving-kindness, as Kerouac references in Buddhism and Christianity. Hopefully, each individual death enacts a process of self-transformation, regardless of one’s “belief.” Of course, no religion has a monopoly on this subject and, likewise as Proust demonstrates, it is not an explicitly religious genre. In his book The Gift of Death, Jacque Derrida, a Jewish philosopher, observes that an “experience of responsibility” is produced as a result of “one’s absolute singularity … [through] one’s own death. Death,” he continues, “is very much that which nobody else can undergo or confront in my place. My irreplaceability is therefore conferred, delivered, ‘given,’ one can say, by death.” And so, from a position of one’s own singularity, an individual is called to responsibility, and this, in Derrida’s opinion, is the true domain of religion. All other religious claims are to be considered mystagogic and even wayward. As his thesis states, “The gift of death would be this marriage of responsibility and faith.”

In my view, belief becomes differentiated from non-belief at this level, whether one professes the possibility of self-transformation or actualization. To a certain extent, whether religion is “necessary” is a matter of semantics. For many, religious language helps to encapsulate and articulate emotional and spiritual growth for many individuals during moments of transcendence. Yet, belief can does not need to have such an expression. Whereas, Hitchens believes that any “conversion” on his part would be tantamount of “foxhole foolishness” and the result of a chemical imbalance, those who have belief are the ones who embrace “internal change” – a dreaded phenomenon for Hitchens – as an essential movement of human existence.

Death – possibly the one aspect of humanity that people have been trying to fight, avoid, halt and otherwise disrupt longer than any other aspect of the human condition. The very idea of dying is scary for many, as it seems for all of our efforts there is nothing we can do to stop it. Religions have certainly dealt with the death question at great length and breadth; and some see the very existence of religions as a mass coping mechanism for realizing our existence as finite, limited, mortal beings. Throughout periods of Christian history deathbed confessions of faith were quite common – one could live without fear of eternal repercussions of one’s actions, so long as your final act was one of repentance in order to save your immortal soul.

Faith and belief are often chided as irrational and immature methods of dealing with the fact of death, yet even Hitchens admits that there are terrifying encounters that arise when one is faced with her/his mortality. I have often heard “there are no atheists in foxholes” and tend to believe that this statement contains a lot of truth. But I do not go along with Hitchens that such statements are merely acts of desperate individuals. Experiences, good and bad, life affirming and life threatening, are instances for people to make a choice – to continue living as one has, or to change. Faith is also a choice, one that recognizes the limits of human knowledge and allows that something greater than humanity is at work in the universe. Here, Hitchens and I actually agree although we do not use the same language. My faith in God is not a sign of strength in my own knowledge, but rather one of vulnerability and openness. Choosing to believe in God and the possibility of an afterlife is not an easier option, however. This choice, for me, includes a huge amount of responsibility – to live my life in a way that I do not waste the wealth of experiences and relationships that are available to me, and to give back as much as I receive, so that we may all enjoy the lives we have been given.

Written by: Divya Bhatia, Shreya Bhatia, Maria Saraf

In her landmark book, Encountering God, Diana Eck discusses the increasing religious diversity in the world. She notes that “today people of all faiths are more or less aware of one another, and those who articulate the meaning of faith for today must do so in the complicated context of religious plurality.” Taking this reality of religious pluralism one step further, and proactively engaging with such diversity, is the idea behind Interfaith Action’s Youth Leadership Program, established in Sharon, Massachusetts. The program, nicknamed “the YLP” by its high school participants, gives teens the opportunity to learn more about the religious “other,” thereby reflecting upon and developing their understanding of their own beliefs on faith. The YLP gives teens an environment in which they can connect with other teens of different faiths.

Throughout the year, we participate in multiple facilitation and project management trainings to develop the leadership and communication skills we use to plan and run our youth-driven conferences and community events. By using the skills learned in the trainings, we create community programs through which the town embraces cultural and religious differences. As a goal to achieve a more pluralistic society, teens are in the driver’s seat to create the projects themselves, from start to finish. Watching a project fall into place, we enhance our leadership experiences and gain an enormous sense of confidence. The heart of the events we plan revolve around the importance of good communication skills that allow us to increase cooperation among diverse ethnic, religious, and cultural groups in our community. As leaders, we facilitate understanding among diverse people and encourage people to learn about each other and, by finding similarities and respectfully learning about differences, share ideas that benefit the community as a whole.

One of the main challenges to pluralism is the idea that we should work to understand those with beliefs different from our own. Although there is no simple answer, one way to think of it is that by being a part of the wider interfaith movement, we are not merely representing our own religious traditions, but strengthening our understandings of our own faiths by learning about other religious traditions.

Our meetings take place in various houses of worship in order to ensure that we become familiar with the traditions of others. From our own experiences, the best way to achieve a pluralistic society, one in which people actively engage in religious diversity, is to embrace diversity in our everyday lives. And we do that by attending one another’s events so we can walk away from them with new insights about ourselves, other people, and the world. For example, every spring, during the Hindu festival of Holi, YLP teens play a classic game of Holi by throwing powders of bright, exotic colors and water on each other, creating a vast array of colored shirts (that just minutes before playing were white). By participating in this festival and learning about Devika, whose story provides the foundation for the festival of Holi, we learn about Hinduism by experiencing it first-hand. Furthermore, during Ramadan, we hold an Iftar dinner to break the fast at sunset after a whole day of fasting. Many YLP teens also fasted for the whole day, experiencing directly what it is like for the millions of Muslims who fast during the holy month of Ramadan every year. After a full day without food or water, putting the flavorful biryani and delicious fresh fruit chaat in our mouths, we learned about the hardships faced by many in our world and the luxuries we take for granted. Taking part in these religious experiences, we create diverse groups and have everyday exposure to the religious “other,” realizing the shared values and ethics of various faiths around the world.

Building on the notion of shared values of different faiths, we even host many events in which we connect with people around the world. For example, almost one year ago, a group of YLP teens met to plan the annual Teenage Interfaith Diversity Education Conference (T.I.D.E.). The planning committee set the stage for what was to become the facilitation, logistics, and recruitment committees, each consisting of teens that spent countless hours planning each and every minute of the remarkable conference. At the T.I.D.E. Conference this past May, diverse teens from all over the US, including New York, Albany, Cincinnati, and Massachusetts, roomed together, ate together, and led and participated in faith-based learning, dialogues, and skill-building workshops together. People of all religions, ethnicities, and backgrounds came to this amazing conference, which was a learning experience for all.

Additionally, this July, we held an Iraqi exchange program planned by a small committee of teens. We began the day with community service, got extremely dirty while harvesting produce under the boiling sun, and then ate lunch at a local Indian restaurant. After the lunch, we made our way to a Jewish temple; for many of the Iraqis, it was the first time they had been to one. There, the rabbi engaged us in a question-answer seminar and gave us a close-up view of a Torah scroll. One of the highlights of the day was the meaningful discussions about religion, life, education, and the war in Iraq. It was so interesting for everyone to hear the views of people who have actually experienced it. Then, we visited the Islamic Center of New England in Sharon, Massachusetts. Throughout the course of the day, we learned so much and even had many of our own stereotypes debunked. Even though we were all from such different places, we connected on universal and cultural themes, things that all teens around the world are concerned about. Their love of Lady Gaga was definitely something we related to. Overall, it was a powerful and enriching experience that we will never forget.

Being part of Interfaith Action’s Youth Leadership Program is not just about learning and experiencing each other’s religion; it is about forging strong bonds of friendship that will last a lifetime. Because of our contact with people of many cultures, we are more accepting, not only as an interfaith community, but as individuals. We ask more questions out of genuine interest. And by asking the right questions, we overcome the problem of ignorance.

For instance, a Hindu girl was invited to a Seder by her Jewish friend because she asked how the Jewish friend’s family celebrated Passover; two Jewish and Muslim high school students ended an online conversation with the word ‘peace’; and two Indian Hindus and a Pakistani Muslim are collaborating on this very article. All of these scenarios are results of the openness and acceptance that interfaith work has instilled in us. We learned more about others, but also about ourselves.

Divya Bhatia is a senior at Sharon High School and this is her fourth year in Interfaith Action. Along with being a senior facilitator, Divya plays tennis and sings classical Indian music.

Shreya Bhatia is a sophomore in High School and this is her second year affiliated with Interfaith Action. Shreya also enjoys playing tennis, practicing karate, and dancing.

Maria Saraf is a junior at Sharon High and this will be her second year in Interfaith Action. Maria loves playing basketball and lacrosse.

Rabbi Leonard Sharzer, MD will continue to coordinate LFI programming in bioethics, with the new title of associate director for bioethics.

“I am pleased to return to the directorship of LFI,” says Dr. Visotzky. “I look forward to implementing Chancellor Arnold Eisen’s vision of Jewish learning that is intimately connected to the world. I hope to emphasize the original vision of LFI to apply the wisdom of America’s religious communities and traditions to matters that affect us here and abroad.”

The Appleman Professor of Midrash and Interreligious Studies at JTS, Dr. Visotzky joined the faculty immediately following his ordination into the rabbinate in 1977. He also served as associate and acting dean of The Graduate School of JTS, and as the founding rabbi of JTS’s egalitarian worship service in the Women’s League Seminary Synagogue.

Dr. Visotzky was a visiting faculty member at, among other institutions, Clare Hall, University of Cambridge, Oxford University, and Union and Princeton theological seminaries. In addition, he served as the Master Visiting Professor of Jewish Studies at the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome.

Dr. Visotzky consulted with Bill Moyers and was a featured participant in the ten-hour PBS television series, Genesis: A Living Conversation, which premiered in 1996. He has authored nine books and written more than 100 articles and reviews. His work continues to be published in America, Europe, and Israel.

Dr. Visotzky serves on the boards of Fordham Law School’s Stein Center for Law and Ethics and the Journal of  Inter-Religious Dialogue and on J-Street’s National Advisory Council. He is a member of the New Israel Fund Rabbinic Council’s steering committee and the American Jewish World Service Education Committee and Rabbinic Council, and sits on the advisory board of Auburn Seminary’s Center for Multifaith Education.

Internationally, Dr. Visotzky is engaged in Jewish-Christian-Muslim dialogue in capitals such as Washington DC, Warsaw, Rome, Cairo, Doha (where he was in the first group of Jews invited by Qatar’s emir), and Madrid (where he was in the first group of Jews invited by King Abdullah of Saudi Arabia).

Since 1938, the Louis Finkelstein Institute of JTS has maintained an innovative interfaith and intergroup relations program that emphasizes conversation among diverse communities. The institute’s ability to unite voices from different academic, social, and religious communities has resulted in singular conferences and interfaith cooperation and brought the relevance of Judaism and other religions to prominence on a myriad of issues.

Response by Hafsa Kanjwal: It is imperative that we understand the backlash against the Ground Zero Mosque (now renamed Park 51 in hopes to alleviate some of the criticism) in the context of Islamophobia. It is nothing less than that, and even amidst hearing critics say that they find the building of this mosque “offensive”--there is an underlying sentiment that indeed, Islam is offensive. The way this issue has been politicized is not shocking, but it is disappointing. Read more here.

Response by C. Nikole Saulsberry: There are always two sides of a story; that is a journalistic given. But more often than not, media outlets today hyper-polarize the opposing sides of every religion story to further instigate the detrimental idea that faith is exclusive and inherently combative.  And we can see this here, in the seemingly unbiased CBS News video. Read more here.