Entering a sacred space like the First United Methodist church in Pasadena can stir emotions. Curious visitors often wander through the church doors, attracted by its gothic exterior, and instinctively start to whisper.
The space on Colorado Boulevard – a busy thoroughfare that doubles as part of the Rose Parade route every New Year’s Day – has always felt holy, said the Rev Amy Aitken, the pastor. Now she wants it to feel like a safe space for two other religious groups that are sharing the facilities for worship: the Islamic Center of Southern California and the Pasadena Jewish Temple and Center.
Conflicts in faraway lands and ideological differences make these three religious groups unlikely cohabitants in a shared space, but here the groups form a microcosm of peaceful coexistence united by tragedy. In January, the Pasadena synagogue burned down in the Eaton fire leaving its Jewish congregation in need of a place to grieve and worship.
The Methodist church, already a host to Islamic Center members as a satellite worship location, welcomed the Jewish congregation.
“We are trying to cultivate an ‘island of grace’ in the midst of differences that we are told should divide us,” said Aitken.
Under this arrangement, all three Abrahamic faiths are worshiping under one roof at 500 East Colorado Boulevard.
“I can’t think of another church that can say the same,” said Aitken.
‘You won’t feel good if your neighbor is suffering’
Midday on a Friday in February, Islamic Center members lay out prayer rugs in the church’s Fellowship Hall for their weekly Jumma service, a communal prayer session.
“Friday is our religious day,” said Roohi Siddiqi, who has been attending Jumma services here for two years. For her, it’s a weekly chance for spiritual renewal.
The service lasts just an hour, and the Islamic Center’s mosque and cultural center is more than 13 miles away in Los Angeles. This satellite location in Pasadena provides a convenient site for local members to worship, said Omar Ricci, an Islamic Center spokesperson.
It’s an interfaith partnership forged out of Steelers Nation.
In 2017, Dr Rizwan Bhatti, an ophthalmologist and former board member of the Islamic Center, connected with a patient – a former Methodist church pastor – through their mutual interest in the Pittsburgh Steelers. Bhatti was helping in the search for a satellite location for the center’s weekly prayer service. The church’s meeting room was available. That summer, the first Jumma prayer service was held at the Methodist church.
The church is not just a space of worship, said Bhatti. It’s a place of connection between interfaith partners.
Now, there is a third partner.
“It’s just a great blessing for the entire community that people with different faiths are able to come together and help each other in difficult times,” said Bhatti.
The arrangement reminds Ricci of a quote by the Irish writer Sebastian Barry: “There is seldom a difficulty with religion where there is friendship.”
Yes, there are differences in belief systems in what’s happening between Palestine and Israel, said Ricci. “It doesn’t override the loving demeanor that I think we should be dealing with each other.”
On this day, the Islamic Center’s Khutbah, or lecture, focused on unity – both within their community and now with the new Jewish group that share the same space, but at different times.
After the Jumma service, Dr Syeda Ali, a kidney specialist, said the message resonated.
“No matter how you reach out to your creator, we all have a common goal of doing the best for the community,” said Ali. “We want our families to be good. We want our community to be good. You won’t feel good if your neighbor is suffering.”
‘We are people that play well with others’
The church’s campus – with its meeting rooms, sanctuary, chapel and a restaurant-grade kitchen – is a place of God, said the Rev Mina Nau-Mahe, an associate pastor. “And so, if it is a space of God, then it needs to be open to all people.”
Now the campus is full, which calls for a lot of coordination between the groups – and a lot of grace, said Aisha Williams, the facilities manager. This also applies to church members, who are accustomed to having the entire campus to themselves.
The Methodist congregation was overjoyed when they learned that the Jewish Temple congregants were worshipping on the same campus, said Aitken. “We are people that play well with others.”
Fridays are especially busy. Jumma services take place at midday. In the evening, the campus buzzes with Shabbat services. On Saturday mornings, the Jewish temple holds its service in the sanctuary, a cavernous room with fan vault ceilings where the cantor’s voice soars. Kids giggle in the pews while parents have personal moments of prayer.
Then on Sunday mornings, the home team takes the space.
“I think that this has been such a great reminder that all faith communities have the same goal. It is to support and make ourselves better humans, so that we can make the world just a little bit better together,” said Melissa Levy, Pasadena Jewish Temple and Center (PJTC) executive director.
Where do you see God in all this?
The Jewish temple held services the same week the synagogue burned down. They needed to nourish their beleaguered community. More than 70 of their families were affected by the Eaton fire, including Heather Sandoval Feng, a high school principal, whose Altadena home burned down.
After two months, Sandoval Feng has settled into the phase she describes as the “temporary permanent” – the quiet space after the disaster that allows the mind to reckon with the loss and the unexpected beauty of finding a new interfaith community.
Her daughter Hannah Sandoval, 13, had been preparing for her batmitzvah before the fire took their family home and synagogue. The Methodist church offered its space for the rite of passage. A month after the fire, Hannah ceremoniously read from the Torah scroll – which were saved from the ravages of the blaze – in front of the congregation and a stained-glass window depicting the transfiguration of Christ.
“I couldn’t think of a better place,” said Sandoval Feng. It was the first batmitzvah for the church and the interfaith family – Hannah’s dad, Oscar Sandoval, is Catholic. For months now, their family has been returning to the site of their home to pick through remnants. A broken mug emblazoned with the Star of David here. Charred Hanukah decorations there.
Kids at Sandoval Feng’s school often ask: where do you see God in all this?
Her answer: God is the community in action.
During Ramadan this month, a holy time for Muslims to fast, pray and reflect, members of the Islamic Center gather at the church on Tuesday nights to break their fast together. Church members have previously joined them.
Interfaith outreach between all the groups will happen in time, said Aitken. For now, she’s giving the Jewish congregation grace and space to settle in.
“It’s a big deal for them to be worshiping in a Christian space,” said Aitken about PJTC. “And it’s enough.”
The arrangement is an opportunity to practice compassion.
“I don’t know how to change things on the global macro level,” she said. “But on this corner, I can try to create a kind of community and a house of worship that God would recognize.”
