Learning From Ramadan: A Non-Muslim Perspective

At the very center of interfaith work is the opportunity to not only learn about others, but in doing so, enrich our own spiritual journeys as well. For example, as a Christian, my appreciation for the story of God’s commitment to humanity is enhanced by participating in a Seder with my Jewish friends. My understanding of God’s “still, small voice” has been broadened by sitting in silence with Buddhists. And with Ramadan commencing in just a few days, there are many things we can learn from our Muslim friends and colleagues.

Ramadan is a sacred time in the Islamic calendar when Muslims draw themselves closer to God by abstaining from food and drink from sunup to sundown and by emphasizing charity to those in need. This year, Ramadan begins on Friday, Feb. 28, and ends on Saturday, March 29.

Perhaps the most obvious lesson from Ramadan addresses discipline and restraint. While most of us will not choose to fast with our Muslim friends, might we do well to limit our intake of certain things? Should I perhaps reduce my consumption of “breaking news” and political discord? Instead of a steady diet of fear and divisiveness, I may restrict myself to news that provides the information I need and hold back on stories which might tantalize me but aren’t very good for me in the end.

Ramadan also teaches us that struggle is universal to the human experience. While most Muslims I know look forward to Ramadan, none of them say that the fast is easy. It’s not meant to be. In the midst of struggle, we sometimes find resources within us that we didn’t know were there but can help us cope in difficult times. It’s also true that sometimes we feel depleted, and that internal strength is hard to find. So it’s helpful to remember that we’re not alone. On one hand, our experiences of difficulty are very different. On the other, there are important ways in which this is something we all share. 

I am reminded of yet another Ramadan lesson when I have been lucky enough to participate in an iftar—the daily fast-breaking meal that takes place when the sun sets. Often Muslims gather to celebrate the day’s end by eating sweet dates with their friends and family before sharing a larger meal. In these moments, I’m struck by gratitude for things that we sometimes take for granted—food, drink, family and community. Exciting new research validates the lessons my mother taught me in childhood. It turns out that taking stock of that for which we are thankful really is good for us! This is perhaps especially so these days when we are confronted with so many stories of loss.

And finally, Ramadan’s commitment to charitable giving is something we must never forget. The world’s great religious traditions remind us to consider those in our midst who are pushed to the margins. Indeed, no matter how we think about solving the world’s brokenness and inequities, part of the solution will rely on us coming together across our many differences to look out for each other. 

It’s important to note that this reflection is written about Ramadan by a Christian with a spiritually diverse audience in mind. But, let us remember that while their numbers may seem small, close to five percent of our student body is Muslim. They are on the brink of their Ramadan fast. They are abstaining. They are praying. They are giving. They are keeping God at the very center of their lives. 

My Christian identity has been enriched by my encounters with individuals of other faiths who have been generous enough to share a bit of their story with me. And, I like to think the same is true for them. In the midst of these upside down days we look to that which sustains us. Let us open our hearts and minds to new understanding.