November 10, 2024 Teresa Albright's Remarks accepting the Vern Barnet Interfaith Service Award Thank you. Thank you. Thank you so much. This work we do as an interfaith community is so important! I feel so honored to be recognized by those who have a heart for this kind of ministry. And it is a ministry. Its important that we keep traditions like this annual interfaith thanksgiving going. It is important, if we are to grow as one human family, that we hold space for interfaith encounters like these, hold space for people with varying beliefs to stand together in solidarity for the common good, for people of faith to share and learn with and from one another… It is important work, to learn what we have in common, certainly…but also what makes us different, what makes us unique, what makes the human race and all of Creation so beautiful. So thank you, Vern Barnet, for this award, and to Alvin Brooks who was so generous with his praises. You both demonstrate gratitude and goodness through the way you choose to live your life and you light the way for others to follow. And thank you to Kara Hawkins, the Greater Kansas City Interfaith Council, and the KC Peace Pipe Circle, and to the Visitation community for holding this interfaith space today so we can give God thanks for the abundance of life we are so privileged to share in. I remember attending this annual Kansas City tradition for the first time several years ago at the Peace Pavillion. It was one of the first interfaith events I attended after moving back to Kansas City 8 years ago. I was running late that night…as usual…and when I arrived I had trouble finding a seat. More than once, when I’d approach an empty chair, I was told it was already taken. My introverted self – new to the interfaith world of Kansas City – could feel the urge welling up to exit the uncomfortable situation. But then I saw a friendly face I recognized from the interfaith council meetings I had recently begun attending. It was Linda Boyce, the Pagen Councilor, there at a table with her husband and 2 teenage children.She welcomed me and offered me a chair in that joyful way she has about her. I could’nt help but hear the lyrics to that old Dar Williams song in my head called “The Christians and the Pagens” about a family sitting down for a holiday meal. I’d like to read the last few lyrics of that song now. So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table, Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able, Lighting trees in darkness, learning new ways from the old, and Making sense of history and drawing warmth out of the cold. Finding faith and common ground. I don’t need to tell you all about the common ground that draws us to interfaith spaces like these. People called to this ministry share a common desire for lasting peace. Not everyone in this world, or in this country, desire peace. But we do. When tensions rise among religious people, such as on October 7 of last year, Interfaith spaces like the Greater Kansas City Interfaith Council gathers people together and gives voice to peacemakers like us through making public statements calling for non-violence. People with a heart for this interfaith work share common ground in our search for Truth. It is what each of our traditions attempt to articulate… what is Real, what is True, what is Good, what is Just? We also share a common belief that each person is made in the Image of God. Interfaith spaces like this one is an opportunity to come face-to-face with people we otherwise might not encounter in our daily life. I remember a time when I was a table moderator at an interfaith dinner that occurred quarterly in Houston. I was one of the regular moderators at these dinners whose job it was not only to make sure the discussion was respectful, but that no one person coopted the conversation. But this particular dinner, at my table, was a Yazidi man. A recent asylum seeker new to this country having fled religious persecution in northern Iraq. All other discussion about abstract notions of truth, justice and religion ceased, and we all held space for this man to share his story and tell us about his family members he had to leave behind. These interfaith spaces, our interfaith work, is important. Even if, for some of us, our own religious institutions seems hostile toward this work. Do it anyway. Especially in times when it seems the world is consumed in darkness. One of my first memorable experiences of an interfaith moments was on September 11, 2001. I was a brand new college graduate – a K-12 Catholic School girl before that – who had just started an administrative position at Congregation Beth Shalom synagogue…, when it was over at Bannister Road and Wornall Rd. I took this job because I wanted to work at a Jewish institution. I had studied the horrors of the Holocaust in college and was determined to be one of those Christians combatting systemic anti-semetism in my own Catholic tradition. To do that, I wanted to learn more about Judaism – but not just from books, but from the people themselves. Those were some of the most meaningful years of my life. Anyway, that morning of 9/11 everyone in the synagogue office – Jews and Gentiles alike – were gathered around a small, desktop TV… this is long before iphones or youtube or tik tok of course… we huddled together, watching footage of the twin towers in New York collapsing and people scared,crying and running for their lives. It looked a lot like images coming to us from Gaza today. An hour or so later, Rabbi Alan Cohen would gather us together in the small day chapel for prayer. From this Catholic young woman to our Southern Baptist executive director, we all filed in to the small chapel illuminated by the light of Yartzite candles along the wall in memory of the dead. Also gathered there that day was the church staff from Colonial Presbyterian across the street, and a few professionals from the office building that sat behind us. Rabbi Cohen read from the Hebrew Scriptures, offering a reflection on Psalm 23. The LORD is my shepherd; there is nothing I lack. In green pastures he makes me lie down; to still waters he leads me; he restores my soul. He guides me along right paths for the sake of his name. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff comfort me. Rabbi Cohen chose Psalm 23 because he knew it would be familiar words to such a diverse group of people – business professionals, Presbyterian pastors, southern Baptists, atheists, Jews and even this Catholic School girl.That day, in that interfaith space he had carved out, he chose gathering rather than scattering. That is what we do during this season of thanksgiving. We gather together. We give thanks for all the good things of life that sustain and nourish us. At this time of year, when sunset comes so early, Death appears to be all around us. Trees have lost their leaves. All that was lush and green is now dry, brown and brittle. But this we can be certain of…that death is always followed by more life. Its what mother earth has revealed to us. And it is what so many of our faith traditions have taught us down through the ages. That life follows death. Through this interfaith work, I have grown so much in my own faith. Occupying interfaith spaces is important, because they force us to articulate our individual religious traditions more clearly, more precisesly. We cannot assume that we are speaking the same “language of faith.” The word salvation in my tradition means something entirely different in another’s. Interfaith spaces allow us to practice and hone in on the heart of the matter. There are so many beautiful ideals I have come to understand better because of my participation in interfaith work. The power of non-violence as the only way to Peace. The power of Hope, especially when it is shared with others in community. The power of Beauty to elevate the ordinary. The power of Truth to shed light on injustice. And the power of Love, which will always win in the end. And I am so very thankful for all of you who are committed to interfaith work and dialogue and solidarity. ……………… As a Catholic, I cannot think of the word “thanksgiving” without thinking about the Eucharist, the most Blessed of our 7 Sacraments. Those Christian clergy with us today can confirm, the Eucharistic liturgy is made up of 4 ritual gestures. Take, Bless, Break, Give I’d like to end by reflecting briefly on each of those today. As the days grow shorter and the night seems long and cold, may these ancient gestures sustain us and nourish us along the way. The first is to Take – Take part. Participate. Offer to help. Bring something to the table, even if all you can bring is your self. Even if no one asks you, your perspective matters, keep offering it. God can do marvelous things with the unique gifts our traditions bring to the table. The next gesture of the thanksgiving meal we call the Mass around here is to “Bless”. Take and Bless, Lift Up. Acknowledge. Give attention to. What does your religion lift up? What is worthy in our traditions to be lifted up? What parts of our religious culture are bearing good fruit in this age, and which parts are not? What we as religious people choose to “bless” gives it power. So let us use our words carefully. And here, I want to address clergy in particular, those of you who weild the power of the pulpit. Don’t underestimate your influence on both religious and non-religious people alike. Whether we like it or not, when clergy speaks, people listen. But letting your voice be heard comes with risk. To Bless, to lift up what is right and what is just comes with risks. And this brings me to the third ritual gesture of thanksgiving. To Break. Moving in interfaith spaces is risky. Believe me. I know. Any kind of authentic dialogue always comes with risk. At the very least, we risk having our opinions changed. Hearing the perspectives of other people of faith may challenge you to speak up against even those in your own communities. And that is risky. And most risky of all, interfaith work may lead to looking inward, to self-examination…as Mr. Brooks often calls us to do. The final gesture is to Give, to share, to spread, to distribute.. We don’t’ do this work for our own sake, but for the sake of the whole world. Working and moving in interfaith spaces plants seeds for a future not our own. In the words of St. Oscar Romero, one of the patron saint of this Visitation community…. “We plant the seeds that one day will grow. We water the seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities.” This interfaith work of ours is important. It is necessary, perhaps now more than ever. Thank you all. Thank you for the interfaith work you do. Thank you for this honor. And thank you for a memorable evening of food, faith and friendship! I am especially grateful to those who came before me and paved the way. I’d like to end our time together by sharing something from my own tradition, but that many of us can relate to . That is, showing reverence to our anscestors, or venerating the saintly souls who made it possible for me to stand here today and receive this award. During this season of darkness and cold, my Church remembers its dead throughout the month of November. United in thankgiving,I invite us all to call to mind all those people who have died, that had a heart for interfaith understanding and peacemaking. I invite you to write their names on a notecard on your table and to carry it with you during these dark days ahead so that their memories will Light your way. [pause for people to write down names] As a Catholic, I am taught to remember the saints in heaven, who walked this pilgrim path on earth, who gave their lives to the cause of liberty, justice, peace, truth and the beauty. I say their names out loud, And I ask for their prayers today and everyday. If you feels so called, please pray with me in response. And when I am finished, I invite you to speak aloud the names of your ancestors in faith. If we end up speaking over each other…well…that’s okay. Let us pray, and remember… Holy Mary, Mother of Jesus, pray for us Rabbi Morris Margolies, pray for us Elie Wiesel, pray for us Abraham Joshua Heschel, Pope John XXIII, pray for us Pope John Paul the II, pray for us Theodore Rattisbone, pray for us Thomas Merton, pray for us Dorothy Day, pray for us Sr. Thea Bowman, pray for us. © Teresa Albright, Kansas City, MO, 2024 |