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Some Christians, perhaps many, are afraid of Islam and/or Muslims when what they are really afraid of are terrorists who are also Muslim by faith.

Some Muslims, perhaps many, are afraid of Christianity and/or Christians when what they are really afraid of are political ideologues who are also Christian by faith.

Half truths are extremely dangerous because they have just enough credibility to hide the whole truth of a story.

So fear of the many because of the actions of the few becomes an endless circle until broken by some outside force.

When it comes to Christians and Muslims, I wish that outside force could be knowledge alone, but it never seems to be enough. In my own experience it was when knowledge was augmented by a personal relationship that I saw things differently.

I was not afraid of Islam when I first met my Sufi Muslim friend, but I had heard and read a lot of bad things about it, especially since our meeting was post 9/11.

I called to invite him to speak to our church about Islam (he had been recommended by a couple in the church). The first thing he said was that he wanted Joy and me to come to his home for a meal, then we could talk.

I had initiated the call so I didn’t think I could say no, but I admit I was a bit uneasy about going. I had never been in a Muslim home before, and really didn’t know anyone who was Muslim. But we went, and even took our ten year old grandson.

That was the beginning of a friendship between our families that has grown deeper and wider over the past six years. We have learned a lot about Sufism. I think he and his wife and their family have learned a lot about the kind of Christianity we practice.

As members of two different religious traditions we believe a lot of similar things, and we believe a lot of different things. We disagree as much as we agree when we talk about issues, including religion and culture.

I have learned that my friend has felt afraid, or at least uneasy, in some circumstances he has faced since coming to the U.S., especially when 9/11 happened.

He knows that I was uneasy, if not a little afraid, when the four of us landed in his native Morocco last summer, a dominantly Muslim culture, and when we met his family, especially a cousin who was very anxious to talk politics and American foreign policy.

But what made me feel safe, secure, and open to learning during our visit was the friendship we share. No amount of understanding of Islam had that power. The relationship is what made the difference.

We don’t know where all of this is leading us. Through the years we have been together in church, in prayer during Ramadan, in an interfaith group at the Chautauqua Institution, and in endless hours of conversation.

Recently the four of us, along with a few others who wanted to be a part of an interfaith worship experience, began meeting once a week in our home. As my friend says, what we are doing is not interfaith worship because at this point none of us knows how to combine Christian worship and Juma’h Prayers.

But because he and his wife are present, and because we intentionally use language that is inclusive and respectful of other faiths, and because they feel free to speak to the topics we discuss from their faith perspective, such as what the Qur’an says about Jesus, it has an interfaith spirit to it. And those of us who are Christian are consciously trying to be faithful to our tradition while acknowledging the vitality and validity of Islam.

As I said, we don’t know where this is going, but that is okay because at the moment the journey itself is enough.

Along the way we are learning that when people are in the presence of divine love, their fears of one another are truly overcome (1 John 4:18) and they understand one of the basic truths of life, that we are all members of the human family who will live together or die together, but when all is said and done it will be together.