When I first took on the role of Secretary General for DIM·MID, I had a vague idea of forming an advisory board for my own benefit—one composed of leaders from various religious traditions who could keep me informed about developments in their communities and guide me in approaching sensitive topics with care. I kept this idea in mind during my first months in Rome as I worked through the list of contacts my predecessor Father William Skudlarek had left me—individuals involved in interreligious dialogue who could serve as valuable resources.
One of those meetings was with Professor Gianni La Bella of the Sant’Egidio Community. Our conversation was particularly illuminating and later became the basis of the regular conference I now give around the world to describe the work of Monastic Interreligious Dialogue. At the end of our visit, I asked Professor La Bella what he thought I should do with the organization. Without hesitation, he suggested that we organize an annual international interreligious gathering to pray for and reflect on “peace as a universal patrimony.” I must admit that my heart sank; organizing an annual international gathering was the last thing I wanted to take on. Yet as I walked away from our meeting in Trastevere that morning, it began to feel like both a worthy challenge and a noble endeavor. Soon after, it occurred to me that this gathering could become the very purpose of the advisory board—a steering committee to guide such an initiative.
I began recruiting members, starting with my dear Muslim friend Aaron Maniam, now a professor at Oxford. When we first met, Aaron was working for the government of Singapore and was already deeply engaged in interreligious initiatives. I then invited Rabbi Paula Marcus of California, who is deeply involved in social justice work and in issues concerning the Holy Land, and my brother and fellow guitarist, Rev. Heng Sure, a Buddhist monk and longtime friend of DIM·MID. Next came Arzoo Ahmed, a perceptive young Muslim professional from England who works for one of Europe’s largest medical research agencies, and Lucas Tse, a Chinese scholar and historian currently at Oxford, whom I first met in California and who was working on his own translation of the Tao Te Ching—an area I have long hoped to bring more fully into our work.
I also invited Siddhartha Krishna, a remarkable Hindu pandit from northern India who I met in Rishikesh through a mutual friend. He speaks several languages, including fluent Sanskrit, having been was raised by a father who was a noted Gandhian scholar and a Swiss mother who is a respected yoga teacher in the lineage of B.K.S. Iyengar. I met Weh’na Ka’mu Kwasset Sherri Mitchell during a webinar on which we were both panelists. She is a member of the Penobscot Nation in the northeastern United States and works as a lawyer advocating for Indigenous land rights globally, including with the United Nations. (I have written elsewhere about the need for humanity to recover three essential dimensions—the body, the earth, and the feminine—and how traditional religions hold particular wisdom in these areas.)
To complement this group, I recruited several Christian theologians: Debora Tonelli, who works at Georgetown’s Rome campus and specializes in violence in scripture; Rev. Adam Bucko, an Episcopal priest and author from New York known for his leadership in the new monasticism; and Piotr Zygulski, a young Italian-Polish theologian whose doctoral work at Sophia University (Firenze) focused on Muslim-Christian dialogue had greatly impressed me. Finally, I included my trusted advisor Mark Hansen, an American who has lived for many years in Singapore. Mark brings deep expertise in international affairs and serves on advisory boards for both the American Camaldolese and the World Community for Christian Meditation.
Since a central theme had been suggested by Professor La Bella, we adopted the name “The Peace Council.” (This was before the formation of Mr. Trump’s “Board of Peace,” which unfortunately translates into Italian in the same way as our group, Consiglio di Pace.) We met monthly online for the following year. At each session, I would introduce a topic or text and then open the floor for discussion. More than once, I remarked that a transcript of those conversations would make a fascinating book. The depth of insight and the breadth of common ground we discovered were both striking and deeply gratifying.
As we began discussing how to organize the larger gathering that had originally inspired the group, I found myself growing uneasy. I shared this concern, explaining that I did not think we were ready to launch something so ambitious yet without first meeting in person. I suggested that we gather as a small group before moving forward. To my relief, the response was overwhelmingly positive, and we arranged to meet during the last weekend of May here in Rome, at the Monastery of San Gregorio where I live.
I took a firm hand in organizing this first gathering, explaining that I wanted it to function as a retreat, with myself serving as retreat master. We held six sessions of lectio divina together. I used a method of group lectio that I learned years ago and have since adapted and shared worldwide, though this was my first time applying it in an interreligious context. I asked participants from each scripture-based tradition to select a text on peace that they felt represented their tradition. We then followed a consistent structure: multiple readings of the text, followed by the sharing of a word, then a phrase, then a teaching, and finally an open discussion, concluding with silent meditation for the contemplatio phase. Music accompanied our sessions, and texts were often chanted or recited in their original languages—Hebrew, Arabic, and Chinese among them. I am happy to report that the experience was both profound and deeply successful for all involved.
We concluded with a beautiful outdoor ritual led by Sherri, including a blessing of the directions and prayers for the sick and the dead. Originally, I had hoped to meet at our motherhouse in Camaldoli, surrounded by the silence of its ash forests, but that was not possible. Instead, we gathered in a small, quiet park nearby, which proved to be a fitting and grounding conclusion to our time together and helped solidify our bonds of friendship.
We also shared an early morning meditation each day and participated in the monastic prayers—both here with the brothers and once at Sant’Anselmo for solemn second Vespers for the Solemnity of the Holy Trinity, which the group found very moving. In between were lively conversations over meals and evening walks through Rome. On the final day, we visited the Dicastery for Interreligious Dialogue, where we met Cardinal George Jacob Koovakad, prefect, Monsignor Indunil Janakaratne Kodithuwakku Kankanamalage, secretary, and Father Paulin Batairwa Kubuya, undersecretary. Father Bonaventure Mwenda also joined us later. They seemed genuinely impressed by the group’s reflections, and it was heartening to see smaller conversations emerge organically—Fr. Paulin speaking Mandarin with Heng Sure, and Father Bonaventure discussing African traditional religions with Sherri.
One participant described the entire experience as nothing less than ecstatic.
We will now begin planning an expanded gathering for next year, with carefully chosen additional participants. I am confident that we have made a strong beginning. From the outset, I have understood that among the four forms of dialogue encouraged by the church, our particular mandate is the dialogue of religious experience. I believe we have found a meaningful way to embody that calling—remaining rooted in our own traditions while remaining open to truth as it is revealed through others. For my part, what moved me most deeply was witnessing the love each participant holds for their own tradition and sacred texts. More than ever, I am convinced of the importance of learning what lies at the heart of each tradition and, as Nostra aetate teaches, of striving to “recognize, preserve, and promote” these treasures.
