Prayer: Christian and Muslim Perspectives

Conversations in Qatar

Conversations in Qatar l uc in da mo sh er B uilding Bridges seminars are characterized by what Rowan Williams has called ‘‘appreciative conversation.’’ The size of these gatherings encourages collegiality; so does the methodology. Seminar participants are assigned to break-out groups. Because the membership of each group is consistent throughout the seminar, it is easy to continue a conversational thread from the previous day. A moderator ensures that everyone may contribute to these conversations; a scribe keeps a journal. So, while rich informal conversation takes place over meals, on the bus, and in the hotel lobby, more formal conversation results during the small-group sessions. This essay draws from the journals of the four scribes in order to share some of the highlights of the Qatar 2011 conversations on prayer.1 As is the Building Bridges custom, the ‘‘Chatham House Rule’’ obtains: ideas are unattributed; voices remain anonymous. Vignettes have been organized around three overlapping themes of the conference, thus of this book: scripture and prayer, learning to pray, and growth in prayer. Differences between Christian and Islamic perspectives will be evident, but so will similarities. Differences between coreligionists will also be apparent. Indeed, some participants (Muslim and Christian alike) made observations or assertions that may strike some readers as marginal to the mainstream of their respective traditions. In this way we are reminded of the breadth of the Christian and Islamic traditions. Prayer and Scripture Christianity and Islam share the practice of a signature prayer taken from scripture, the Lord’s Prayer and the Fātih . a, which both received detailed 159 160 lucinda mosher consideration. The Fātih . a is ‘‘the basis for everything,’’ one Muslim told his discussion group, ‘‘business contracts, whatever. It’s also like a duā—a supplication.’’ The Fātih . a is the opening of the Qurān and the opening of each unit of every performance of s .alāt. A Christian noted Muhammad Abdel Haleem’s comment that its ‘‘more wide-ranging functions in the social and cultural life of Muslims’’ flow out of this.2 As does every chapter but one of the Qurān, the Fātih . a opens with the basmala—the invocation ‘‘In the Name of God: the Compassionate, the Merciful ’’ (bismillāh al-Rah .mān al-Rah .ı̄m). This formula is precious to Muslims, one explained; ‘‘it is repeated all the time!’’ Reflection on the Fātih . a’s first words, ‘‘In the Name of God,’’ led to discussion of how God is named. The Fātih . a names God three ways: in terms of mercy, lordship, and judgment. Some commentators assert that the meaning of Rah . mān is broad and general , a Muslim noted, whereas that of Rah . ı̄m is more specific. Another suggested that Rah . mān can be seen as referring to God’s preexistent mercy whereas Rah . ı̄m refers to God’s love; yet another, that these terms point to divine majesty, on the one hand, and beauty, on the other. Conversation would return to the theme of God’s Names during discussions of supererogatory forms of prayer. The last verses of the Fātih . a—‘‘Guide us to the straight path: the path of those You have blessed, those who incur no anger [or, wrath] and who have not gone astray’’—generated considerable discussion. How singular is the straight path? Is it one or many? This is related to the question of pluralism. Indeed, the passage mentions three groups of people, one Muslim pointed out: ‘‘those on the right path, those who go astray intentionally, and those who are lost. The right path is in the middle.’’ A Christian asked whether this passage refers to one group or three categories. The Abdel Haleem translation implies one group. Similarly, some wondered whether this passage of the Fātih . a refers to Islam as a specific historic religion or to an attitude of submission to truth within any religion. A Christian asked whether it was true that Muslim commentaries generally saw the last lines of the Fātih . a as a barb thrown at Christians and Jews. Some Muslims acknowledged that some classical commentaries do say this; other commentaries interpret this verse with generosity of spirit. Another Muslim said that, rather than a reference to Jews and Christians, this verse ‘‘is usually read as a general reference to those who go past the limit of what is acceptable and those who fall short of their obligations. It...