Reflections of a Jewish Participant in the Abraham Festival

Heather Pollock 

    The event didn't begin in a promising way. A phone call. Could I attend a meeting about something called "An Abraham Festival" the very next night? Given the last minute request, and legitimately being busy, I was able to justify not attending. Too often, it seemed, a Jewish component was added to religious events almost as an afterthought. Beth Israel congregation in Peterborough is also a very small community (40 families), so trying to be the Jewish voice in city activities was a stretch for us. A polite "perhaps we could participate at another time, when we have more notice" seemed to be the end of that commitment. Thankfully, not so.

    A scheduled visit to the religion class at our Catholic high school brought an introduction to teacher Helen McCarthy and a more detailed explanation of the event. Weeks earlier, Helen and Elizabeth Rahman, a member of Peterborough's Muslim community, finding themselves alone in the classroom on a snow day had explored their common roots and contemplated an event that would educate their communities and celebrate their histories. They saw Abraham as the starting point for the process. They also saw a need to involve the Jewish community in discussions of Abraham.

    Luckily, Helen was very articulate in her description of the vision she and Elizabeth had for this Abraham festival. She was also very persuasive in convincing me that her desire to include the Jewish community was sincere. While I could not completely picture the event, Helen could. Kindly, we were offered some flexibility in dates. Unfortunately, because of the scheduling in September/October, the Jewish community had only a one-week window within our various New Year celebrations. While fine points were ironed out in planning meetings, the concept of an educational evening followed by a religious service remained fixed as the cornerstones of Elizabeth and Helen's vision.

    As the first evening—the educational session at the mosque—approached, I felt as if I were walking into an activity blindfolded. I knew what should happen, but I had no clue what would really take place. On the night of September 23, I drove to the mosque. I turned to go into the parking lot and found that it was frill. Then I noticed that every side street in the residential area was lined with cars. Finally working my way inside the mosque I found one small corner of floor. The space was completely filled with people eagerly waiting!


    The first words of the event would magically mark the spirit. Helen opened the evening reminding all of us that we came together to learn and in a spirit of respect. If we inadvertently made errors while in the other houses of worship, we did so unintentionally and asked for understanding.

    That first evening, Hamed used Powerpoint and prayers to chart the journey of Abraham, Ishmael and Hagar through their lifetimes and into the present day with an explanation of the hajj to Mecca. How strange to hear familiar names and stories but in a completely different context and with new details! It felt so much like being reunited with family members and learning what had happened to them since you had last met. It also pointed out how groups can live side by side in a civil society, know little about one another, and yet assume that they have a general understanding.

    The week at the synagogue followed. I would be providing the educational component with the help of Dan Houpt who would explain the religious service. To go back to the Torah and study the story of Abraham and his family and various interpretations was a privilege. I chose to talk about the stories of this family, the significant events that marked their characters and their importance: leaving Ur; Abraham's betrayal of Sarah; his kindness to strangers; Abraham's and Sarah's relationship with God, and the stresses within this complex family.

    The synagogue slowly filled to bursting capacity. We watched the clock carefully so that we could start somewhere between the published time and the Jewish time that we often use (5-15 minutes later) and still be finished in time for Muslim evening prayers to take place. Questions—so many and so interesting! "Who writes the scrolls?" "What about rules regarding purity?" "Are all Jews rich?" Rather than being offended by this last question, we took it as an indication of the comfort -one that existed. We were all able to ask our questions. No offence was taken because none was meant. It was a chance to share our faith with people eager to learn and compare it to their own in a non-judgmental environment. It was a window suddenly opening to a new possibility that you never dared imagine before. It was a miracle!

    The learning came more from the questions in the three evenings. I was especially intrigued by one example. In the Jewish presentation, we explained the importance of learning to read the Torah scrolls and prayer books. Hamed asked me if we encourage people to memorize sections of the Torah or the prayers, as Muslims do the Qur'an. I answered that we actually discourage memorization in case an error is made. So someone who says the same prayer every day of his or her life would choose to read it just to be sure that it is said correctly. Then at St. Alphonsus, Father Paul commented that in Catholic services, bible portions are read so that the congregation hears words that are alive with meaning, not static on a page. I continue to wonder how the differences in our perception of the appropriate uses of our holy words affect other aspects of our faith. And what else is just slightly different among us, giving us a unique way of looking at the world?

    The session at St. Alphonsus in the final week was marked by a strong spirit of fellowship that had developed over the three weeks. The presentation at the Church was a gift designed and presented by many members of the congregation working together to share their knowledge and talents. The reception afterwards was marked by vibrant and comfortable conversations among new old friends.

    For me personally, the Abraham Festival was about discovering that the energy that a community needs can come from within itself, but it can also come from interested people of other religious groups. Our Jewish community of 40 families continues to travel on the momentum of having a synagogue filled to the brim. Achieving big results makes you dream even bigger.

    The event also made me recognize a missing aspect of my own life. It has been a while since I have taught English as a Second Language. While had I worked with people from all over the world in this capacity, I recognized that teaching Islamic students from Libya, Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, Iran, and Iraq was a special privilege. We ate together, talked, compared and shared. I think that we sensed that this chance to get to know one another beyond the stereotypes was incredibly valuable and an opportunity that might not happen again. I continue to value the hospitality and fellowship that we enjoyed in difficult times. In the Abraham Festival I keenly felt tie joy of having that contact again. It was epitomized by the huge hug shared with the Iranian-born mother of my daughter's good friend when I introduced myself to her for the first time. Our daughters had discovered one another; now it was the mothers' turn.

    It is sometimes hard to live in a small community. Trying to live as a Jew in a town like Peterborough can be exhausting. But something like the Abraham Festival can perhaps only happen in a small town, big enough for diversity but small enough that ethnic isolation is impossible. The Abraham Festival showed me the priceless heritage of a small town. We can find friendships and develop a respect that crosses over divisions of religion and politics. While I don't need any more proof of the value of this gift, I received it over the recent holidays. My daughter is studying Hebrew and English at McGill University and is preparing to return to Israel. But her greatest accomplishment was fighting her way into an oversubscribed course taught by three professors teaching together outside of their traditional faculties. The name, of course: "Women in Christianity, Islam and Judaism."

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Heather Pollock is an English teacher at Sir Sandford Fleming College in Peterborough and is on the executive of Beth Israel Synagogue.