The soft amber light of the fading sun bathing the leaves of trees in downtown Stamford during these waning days of summer creates its own sense of relaxation and the illusion, however fleeting, of things slowing down. It’s that feeling expressed with an audible “Aaaaaaah” at the end of a long day. Letting out a sigh and letting go of the stress and worries and commitments. They will all be there tomorrow, but for now there is respite. For now the focus is elsewhere. 
(Imam, Kareem Adeeb)
To be precise, the focus is on the end of the Ramadan fast for our Muslim brothers and sisters and the Iftar meal that marks this momentous day. The setting for this observance by the local masjid and members of various churches and synagogues and friends of the InterFaith Council is First Congregational Church. 7:50 PM on Tuesday, August 16, the month of fasting concludes with an interreligious Iftar. 
A simple community room teems with women in hijabs and flowing garments and men with beards and some sporting taqiyahs, along with teenagers in shorts and tennis shoes and grandparents in short-sleeve shirts fill this space with the cacophony of conversation and stories. The imam, Kareem Adeeb, calls the entire group together, and, with a simple prayer declares the end to the fast. A sweet, creamy drink is passed around. Bananas, figs, and pita bread are available for those seeking to quickly sate their hunger before a prayer service concludes the formal worship of this evening. 
The informal worship continues downstairs with tables full of food. Middle Eastern fare, Indian fare, and a host of other dishes delight everyone, and there is certainly something for everyone. People mingle and, except for those in specific religious garb, it is hard to distinguish what tradition any one person is from. The point being, I suppose, on some fundamental level, our humanity is a key connector. The particular way that we live out our wonderment at the mysteries in life, seek to honor the sacred in our midst through the “other” and through creation, our desire for connection and community, and our efforts to support those in need are all secondary. While important and vital to our life, they emerge from the common humanity that we share. 
A short time into the meal imam Adeeb delivers an explanation regarding the month of Ramadan and its practices, the need to exercise this spiritual part of our being, and the heart of Muslim practice and engagement in interreligious dialogue that is a wonderful expression of deep faith, a lively mind engaging the mystery and wonder of God, and a vibrant respect for the search by those in his own tradition as well as others. It is truly inspiring and a message that more and more people need to hear. 
I think about this expression--such hospitality and welcome to all who participated, a passionate engagement with one’s particular tradition, and an equal longing for connection with and respect of other traditions--versus the various other expressions of Islam in the world, and I know there is much more work to be done. The message needs to spread. Human connection at this level is key.
Yet, as I leave and the waning sun is overcome in Stamford only to rise elsewhere on our island home, I know these stresses and commitments will be there tomorrow. For now, I enjoy the sigh and satisfaction of a beautiful service and meal, connecting across traditions, and the warm breeze of a waning summer night. Aaaaahhhhh.
A simple community room teems with women in hijabs and flowing garments and men with beards and some sporting taqiyahs, along with teenagers in shorts and tennis shoes and grandparents in short-sleeve shirts fill this space with the cacophony of conversation and stories. The imam, Kareem Adeeb, calls the entire group together, and, with a simple prayer declares the end to the fast. A sweet, creamy drink is passed around. Bananas, figs, and pita bread are available for those seeking to quickly sate their hunger before a prayer service concludes the formal worship of this evening. The informal worship continues downstairs with tables full of food. Middle Eastern fare, Indian fare, and a host of other dishes delight everyone, and there is certainly something for everyone. People mingle and, except for those in specific religious garb, it is hard to distinguish what tradition any one person is from. The point being, I suppose, on some fundamental level, our humanity is a key connector. The particular way that we live out our wonderment at the mysteries in life, seek to honor the sacred in our midst through the “other” and through creation, our desire for connection and community, and our efforts to support those in need are all secondary. While important and vital to our life, they emerge from the common humanity that we share. A short time into the meal imam Adeeb delivers an explanation regarding the month of Ramadan and its practices, the need to exercise this spiritual part of our being, and the heart of Muslim practice and engagement in interreligious dialogue that is a wonderful expression of deep faith, a lively mind engaging the mystery and wonder of God, and a vibrant respect for the search by those in his own tradition as well as others. It is truly inspiring and a message that more and more people need to hear. I think about this expression--such hospitality and welcome to all who participated, a passionate engagement with one’s particular tradition, and an equal longing for connection with and respect of other traditions--versus the various other expressions of Islam in the world, and I know there is much more work to be done. The message needs to spread. Human connection at this level is key. Yet, as I leave and the waning sun is overcome in Stamford only to rise elsewhere on our island home, I know these stresses and commitments will be there tomorrow. For now, I enjoy the sigh and satisfaction of a beautiful service and meal, connecting across traditions, and the warm breeze of a waning summer night. Aaaaahhhhh.
Blessings,
Mark
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