By Sharon Kugler,
University Chaplain
This volume of Interfaith Reflections is
called Encounter and Engagement and focuses on many of the unique activities
that happen at the Bunting
Meyerhoff Interfaith and Community Service Center
independent of the regularly scheduled worship services and meetings. There
are concerts, sandwich making service days, meditations, game shows, mosaic
making evenings, seminars, workshops and chili parties, numerous chili parties.
As a matter of fact most people who visit the Interfaith Center will speak of
the food. They might have been here for a kosher Chinese Shabbat dinner, they
may have shared in one of my famous “Chaplain’s Chili” gatherings, met new friends
at an “Open Your Eyes” banquet, enjoyed the comfort of a hot cup of tea with
Kathy Schnurr our Assistant Chaplain, or they may have spied the Good Humor
cart just around the corner from the Muslim Prayer Room and had a mid-day snack
break while chatting with Priscilla March at the front desk. They have each
come with a certain kind of hunger that can exist in one’s body and in one’s
spirit.
For a variety of reasons and in assorted ways, people are fed here in ordinary times as well as times of joy
and anguish. It is commonly understood that food brings people together and that it often soothes the soul.
This is not a mere cliche, it is at the heart of any thriving community. What is at the center of these moments
of hospitality is “the ministry of gastronomy” hard at work and gently lifting spirits. What is also happening
is the engagement of the “stranger” across tables of sustenance where signs of light begin to emerge through the
simple act of sharing a meal.
A favorite story of mine comes from an unknown source though it has appeared in numerous wisdom literature
anthologies over the years. Every time I tell the story I think about what I am privileged to witness on nearly
a daily basis at the BuntinguMeyerhoff Interfaith and Community Service Center.
A rabbi once asked his students how they could tell when night had ended and day was on its way back. “Is it when
you can see an animal in the distance, and can tell whether it is a sheep or dog?” “No”, answered the rabbi. “Is
it when you can look at a tree in the distance, and tell whether it is a fig tree or a peach tree?” “No.” “Well
then, the students demanded, “when is it?” “It is when you look on the face of another human being, and see that
he or she is your brother or sister. Because if you cannot do that, then no matter what time it is, it is still night.”
Since opening its doors in the spring of 1999, the threshold of the Bunting
Meyerhoff Interfaith and Community
Service Center has been crossed nearly 200,000 times by seekers and sages by questioners and teachers, each
hungry for something in varying shape or form. When the center was dedicated we spoke then about the great
potential that could be realized within the encounter of a “stranger”. In five years I have witnessed that
potential blossom into fruitful conversations and constructive encounters across serious divides. Many of
these encounters with the “stranger” have begun to extend into lifelong friendships.
Our world has changed so much since 1999. Terrorism and the realities of war are part of our daily conversations
now, but so is talk of hope and healing. The signs of light may be somewhat tougher to spot these days and yet
they are very present within the efforts of the interfaith community at Hopkins as they seek, as the wise rabbi
instructs, to look at each other’s face and see a brother or a sister. Through the exchange of ideas, the
sharing of a meal or the engagement in an activity that benefits our city’s neediest people, our students extend
themselves to one another and within that act they embody the truest hope for our future.
Ð
Next Page
