Just before Christmas the previous year, my mother ("Mimi" to her grandchildren) had died in my childhood home in Savannah, Georgia. For the first time in my life I had decided to spend Christmas away from my family of origin, away from Savannah. It was not an uncomplicated decision, but I had made peace with it.
This Hanukah more than ever we must rekindle our collective dreams of a world at peace in which every single human being is able to celebrate and worship as they choose.
Despite what Bill O'Reilly and Dr. Seuss would have you believe, nobody stole or declared war on Christmas this year -- neither a fairy-tale Grinch nor a puritan-like individual who cannot be happy because of complaints about the secularization of the season.
'Tis the season! If you're like me, you have cocktail parties ahead. This means you need some fun facts up your sleeve so you can be the life of the party. At the very least, it's better than trying to win the ugly Christmas sweater contest!
Our children's Bible rests against the Ramayana on her bookshelf. We pray to God at night but haven't fully fleshed out His character or discussed how He is different from Ganesh and Lakshmi and, now, Baby Jesus. For her, religion is more mosaic of characters and story lines than it is a set of tenets or beliefs.
The ribbon was there every year to remind us that in spite of yule logs, spiced cider and jingle bells, something was still not quite right with the world.
Even if Millennials in interfaith relationships stay out of congregations even after entering parenthood, we still face plenty of challenges. Like the generations before us, we must grapple with identity, family acceptance, and family tradition.
Bruce Barron, a Pittsburgh resident and former staffer for Rick Santorum, penned a loathsome piece in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette requesting that the LGBTQ community offer Christians an olive branch. So let me break down the absurdity of this piece. Discrimination is discrimination.
The truth is that Christmas Creep isn't just about forgetting other holidays, it's about forgetting other people. And worse than that, Christmas Creep is about forgetting Christmas as well.
I am interested in the intersections between spirituality and healthcare because my own religious beliefs inform my choice of career. My passion for medicine stems from a declaration in Islam and various other traditions that saving one person's life is equivalent to saving all of mankind.
So how can those of us in at least the second half of our lives encourage continued progress toward a color-thoughtful world, even if we aren't, for various reasons, interested in joining any of the hundreds of post-Ferguson protests?
So as we once again enter the holiday season with its inherent stresses and strains, especially on interfaith families, here are some of the most persistent questions that I am asked each year regarding how to make interfaith marriage work.
Will you make a difference in someone's life this Thanksgiving weekend? Beyond the football, the turkey, family and friends, will you take the time to make someone's day?
I wish it were easier. It is not, however. In many ways, my spiritual walk was easier when it was not so complicated by faith.
Last week His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama came to Princeton University and met with a select group of students to discuss part of the University's informal motto, "In the service of all nations."
As an American Jewish and an American Muslim leader dedicated to the principle that Muslims and Jews should stand up for each other whenever the rights of members of either community are violated anywhere in the world, we are speaking out together against the ever-intensifying campaign of intimidation against the Crimean Tatars.