Quiet Time: Interfaith Dialogue

Dear God of every tongue and tribe,

I confess that loving my neighbor comes easier when my neighbor looks like me, prays like me, and reads the same scriptures I do. But Matthew 5:44 doesn't let me off that easy. Jesus said to love our enemies — and if we're called to love even enemies, how much more are we called to love the Muslim father next door who kneels on his prayer rug at dawn, or the Jewish grandmother who lights her Shabbat candles every Friday evening, or the Hindu colleague who keeps a small shrine of marigolds on her desk?

Forgive me for the times I've mistaken certainty for faithfulness. Teach me that listening to another person's story of the sacred doesn't diminish my own — it deepens it. When Abraham welcomed three strangers at Mamre, he didn't ask for their theological credentials. He offered water, bread, and shade. And in that act of radical hospitality, he entertained angels unaware.

Give me Abraham's instinct today. When I sit across from someone whose prayers sound nothing like mine, help me to hear not a threat but an echo — the echo of Your image, pressed into every human soul. Let my convictions run deep and my curiosity run deeper still.