EDITORIAL
CONVERSATION, CONFLICT, AND COMMUNITY

When Pilate famously asked, "What is truth," the one he questioned did not answer. No answer would have sufficed, not even Jesus's statement in John's gospel, "I am the way, the truth, and the life" (John 14:5). It would have made no sense. What Jesus spoke of in his answer to Thomas's question ("How can we know the way?") was hope in the context of a faith community. It was not about the primacy of a particular religion, although it has been interpreted that way by generations of Christians.

It is difficult for us to speak of truth, and yet we continually run up against conflicting truth claims. When Frank T. Griswold was elected Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church a year-and-a-half ago, many were relieved because the denomination, with others, faces seemingly intractable problems presented by disputes about the traditional truth claims of the church, particularly in regard to gender and sexuality issues. Griswold is respected as a mediator. In Spring 1998, he delivered two lectures at the Trinity Institute, published here in a revised form, in which he outlines an approach to listening that emphasizes discernment of the spirit and the journey toward what the desert fathers called "purity of heart." At the center of this reflection is the Benedictine concept of conversatio -- a dynamic of turning and being turned, a process of conversion, that is the mystery of communion.

Presiding Bishop Griswold's essay effectively sets the scene for this issue of Cross Currents, which brings together a number of articles that reflect on conflict and conversation among and within communities.

The ritualistic killing of three members of the Dalai Lama's inner circle in February 1997 brought to the surface a long-simmering feud between the followers of the Dorje Shugden and the Dalai Lama, the roots of which are in the seventeenth century. Mike Wilson provides a particularly clear exposition of the shape of that dispute. Incorporating the traditional Bon religion of Tibet, and obsessed with doctrinal purity, the Shugden sect raises for mainstream Buddhism disturbing questions of the role of deity protectors in a faith that does not recognize the independent existence of gods -- and the damaging role conflict can play in the inner life of faith communities.

Dan Leon, the co-managing editor of the Palestine-Israel Journal of Politics, Economics and Culture, writes of the prospects for peace in light of the Oslo and Wye agreements -- and in the context of remarks made by Martin Buber about the future of the state of Israel. Carmela Ingwer, a peace activist in the United States, looks to scripture and what she calls the risk-taking activities of people of faith for clues to a settlement between the contending parties. Both Leon and Ingwer are critical of Israeli leadership -- and both are concerned about the prospects for peace in the absence of the kind of conversation that can change minds.

How we regard others has a profound impact on our ability to engage in conversation. Stephen Pope suggests that the concept of basic respect for others offers a way forward, particularly in our encounters with, or attitudes toward, those (such as Timothy McVeigh) for whom it is difficult to have respect. He asks: "Should we respect everybody?" His essay argues that we should reject the notion that respect must be earned and acknowledge the priority of a "basic respect" that is due to all human beings.

Much of the difficulty we encounter in our engagement with one another stems from our faith perspectives. If what I believe is true, how can your very different belief be true as well? But does faith -- in anything -- have a future? This question seems to have arisen with some force as we approach the millennium (or at least the beginning of a new thousand-year cycle as defined by one, culturally dominant, faith tradition). Paul Lakeland reflected on this question at a recent dinner honoring our Founding Editor Joseph Cunneen. He suggested three directions for the future of faith, all of which seem hopeful for a revived climate of considerate dialog: "a new concern for grace at the microcosmic level; a return to narrativity as the vehicle of utopian hope; and a reawakened appreciation for the giftedness of life."

Lakeland's summary answer to the question of the future of faith is, it seems to us, the heart of the heart of the issue raised by Griswold and placed before us by the ticking of every, not just the millennial, clock. "Faith has a future insofar as we can believe that there will be a future in which to have faith."

Rounding out these reflections is a gentle rumination by one of our new contributing editors, Scott Holland, on the nature and formation of what he calls "publicly conscious community." What attracts his interest is the concept of the stranger and how we incorporate the strange into our lives. "Unless our communities provide hospitable space for strangers, the naming of ourselves and the rendering of God's name in history will be terribly limited and incomplete, for strangers can be important personal, social, and spiritual guides."

We welcome the friend and stranger alike to the conversation of this table.

KENNETH ARNOLD