Even though I grew up in a very devotional and stable Roman Catholic family, I recall that, even as a child, I was very interested in other, non-Christian religious traditions. As a teenager, I would go the library to get books on the scriptures of these non-Christian religions, and I read them avidly. This interest in human variation continued through my university years as I majored in anthropology as an undergraduate, and I eventually earned my Ph.D. in cultural anthropology with a specialization in comparative religions and the anthropology of religion. After discerning my monastic vocation, I took a master’s degree in systematic theology, with special emphasis in theological anthropology. The confluence of all these primarily intellectual interests funnelled me into the field of interreligious dialogue as I sought answers to questions like why God created such religious diversity in the first place, and the mystery of universal salvation in Jesus Christ.

My participation in interreligious dialogue has deepened and strengthened my faith in my Roman Catholic and monastic roots rather than weakening it.

It has challenged me to ask more profound questions about my faith tradition, and to seek out and attempt to synthesize responses that probe the rich depths of my Roman Catholic theological heritage. It has also positively encouraged my own prayer life by showing me that lives of deep devotion and dedication to prayer and meditation can also be found in faith traditions that are not Roman Catholic, or even Christian.

I have been especially moved by the plight of Tibetan Buddhist monks, nuns, and laypeople whose examples of heroic dedication I witnessed first-hand as a participant in one of MID’s monastic exchanges in East Asia in 1995. In this sense, my participation in interreligious dialogue has broadened my awareness of all those people in the world who are worthy of my prayerful remembrance and consideration, and the need to extend charity universally.

In line with my own interests and training, one of the fruits is intellectual in the sense that dialogue has led me to ask new, penetrating questions about my faith and to probe the Christian and Roman Catholic historical and theological resources in a creative and challenging way. Another fruit of dialogue is devotional because it has revealed to me the profound adherence that peoples who are not Christian can demonstrate to their lives of prayer and meditation and to the sustained cultivation of virtue. Thus both Christian and non-Christian models have doubly challenged me to consider more seriously the fruits of personal moral and ethical development. Issues of justice and peace are also brought into sharper relief as yet another fruit of dialogue. Suffering and oppression can then come to be seen as universal human predicaments requiring a spiritual response. I come away from dialogue more deeply aware of and thankful for the renewed sense of human resilience and adaptation it gives me. This humanitarian fruit of dialogue encourages me to put a positive spin on humanity’s capacity for goodness and the desire for living life with ethical integrity. Finally, and following from this last point, we should not discount the fruit of friendship, spiritual and otherwise. Despite the often great geographical distances separating interlocutors and their lack of comparable levels of communication technology, the deep friendships that can be forged by such dialogue are a source of mutual nourishment at the same time that they promote the kingdom of God on earth.

Dialogue also involves the extension of hospitality and a concern for non-judgmental understanding. The first of these is not just a requirement of etiquette, but an unrelenting biblical injunction incumbent on all Christians. As such, it is charity in action, the epitome of Christian virtues (see 1 Corinthians 13:13). The second of these, non-judgmental understanding, is sorely needed in light of the horrific events ravaging peoples and nations today. One cannot avoid the continuous media assault on both our consciousnesses and consciences of the effects of wars and their legacy of death and destruction in the name of God or of some other ultimate spiritual principle that manifests unbridled self-righteousness in the name of religion.

I am not advocating a relativistic stance here, nor am I suggesting that we prescind from moral evaluation. But we must, at the outset, open ourselves to all the circumstances, the broadest context of dialogue, and to the “other”s’ point of view before rushing to a judgment that is partial or uninformed. As the “heart” of monastic interreligious dialogue in the area of spirituality, then, the offer of both hospitality and understanding provides the necessary “space” for the Holy Spirit of our Lord Jesus Christ to enter into that context and animate the participants as the Trinitarian God wills.