Sharing the Shabbat: Interfaith experiences at Georgetown

Transferring to Georgetown from U.C. Berkeley has been a culture shock. I have never seen so many polo shirts or boat shoes in my life, I find I miss Thursday night frat-hopping, and readjusting to dorm food has multiplied my appreciation for my George Foreman grill.


However, the campus attitude toward religious life and interfaith activities has been a breath of fresh air, and I feel far more connected to Georgetown than I ever did to Berkeley.


My friends at Berkeley frequently ask me if the crosses on campus freak me out and if I feel alone as a practicing Jew in a Catholic university. I’m not going to lie—I’d had a secular, public education until now, and seeing crucifixes in my classrooms did freak me out the first few times I saw them. It has taken some getting used to, but I consider them part of Georgetown’s charm—one more reminder that religion is a central feature of student life.


Still, they are a daily reminder that I am not Catholic and that my identity is different from that of the University and the majority of the student body. Leaving a school where Shabbat dinners drew over 100 Jewish students, staff, and faculty for a school where similar meals pull in 30 students on a good night, I knew, would not be easy.


Active Jewish life takes place in a much smaller circle than I am used to, and I have had to go out of my comfort zone to get to know people. I wish that more Jewish students would show up for Friday services, especially those who are not as religious as me or did not grow up always identifying as Jewish.


What really stands out at Georgetown, though, is the value placed on meaningful interfaith relationships between the various religious communities. In my first week on campus, I was invited by my chaplains-in-residence to attend an iftar, the evening meal where Muslims break the fast during Ramadan. I am embarrassed to admit it now, but I was extremely nervous about attending the dinner.


Although I was involved in some interfaith dialogue at Berkeley, political events during the year had strained relations between Muslim and Jewish students and I left Berkeley upset and extremely disillusioned with interfaith activities of any kind. I came to Georgetown unsure of what the religious dynamics would be like, hoping they would not be as hostile as those I had left behind.


That dinner has, in all honesty, helped me regain some of the optimism I thought I had lost. At the iftar, the campus Imam and representatives from the Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox, and Jewish chaplaincy all spoke about what fasting means in their religions. The respect and genuine admiration I felt in the room when these leaders listened to each other speak about their faiths was rare and special. There was a connection that doesn’t exist every day or on every campus. I went to the dinner expecting to feel alienated or judged; instead, I learned that Georgetown has the religious je ne sais quoi I had been looking for. (Ultram)


If it seems like I’m wearing Hoya Blue-colored glasses, I’m not. I’m well aware that Georgetown isn’t all unicorns and rainbows. When I read about the bias-related incident involving swastikas drawn in the residence halls, I prepared myself for disappointment. When my friend’s dorm was publicly vandalized with multiple large swastikas during my last semester at Berkeley, the campus newspaper told my community to “ignore the ignorance” and move on.


I expected the Hoya and the Voice to take similar stances or ignore the incident completely. Both publications’ responses, however, impressed me and showed how thoughtful Hoyas can be, and how empathetic they are to one another. Georgetown isn’t immune to the intolerance and ignorance that pervade our world, but we have an opportunity to change this campus and one another for the better. I’ve realized that the only way for me to move forward from these events is to remember that we have a lot more in common with each other than we imagine. I definitely miss some of the amazing things about Berkeley, but each day I find one more reason to be ecstatic that I am a Hoya.