The Common Heart: An Experience of Interreligious Dialogue
Netanel Miles-Yepez, Foreword by Ken Wilber, Introduction by Thomas Keating

From Chapter 1: Origins and Ideals
A new kind of dialogue

Netanel Miles-Yepez: Father Keating, what was your purpose in founding the Snowmass Conference?

Thomas Keating: I always saw myself as more of a "convener" than a "founder." It was really just a big experiment in the beginning, and I didn't know how it would all work out.
I began planning it in 1983 after taking part in a series of Christian–Buddhist dialogues at the Naropa Institute in Boulder, Colorado. During these "dialogues," I noticed that we, the dialoguers, weren't speaking to one another so much as we were addressing the audience. But, on the two occasions when the conveners succeeded in bringing us together a day before the conference, we got on very well and actually got to talk to one another as peers, albeit all too briefly. So I asked myself, what would happen if the whole point was just to get together and talk, without an audience? And what if it was broader than just a Buddhist–Christian dialogue? So, that was the initial motive for getting that first group of teachers together at St. Benedict's Monastery in Snowmass, Colorado, where this began, and where it got its name, the "Snowmass Conference" (though we didn't always meet there).

Netanel Miles-Yepez: So, the primary purpose was to take the dialogue out of the public arena because you had noticed that the audience was influencing and impeding the intimacy of the dialogue?

Thomas Keating: It seemed to me that it was dominating the dialogue. The rich interchanges glimpsed in those brief periods we spent together before the conferences began, were all but non-existent when we came before an audience. So, I thought, let's just come together to talk about what helps us most in our spiritual practice. This, it seemed, would be far more fruitful, and, hopefully, we would come to a better understanding of the terms we were using to communicate. You know, you can use the same term, but if you are interpreting it in your own way, from your own cultural background, and the person you are dialoguing with is presupposing his or her own interpretation is meant, then there is a lot of confusion.

Netanel Miles-Yepez: But, over the years, the Snowmass Conference did do the occasional public dialogue, didn't it?

Thomas Keating: Yes, there were three or four occasions when we had brief meetings with the people in the neighborhood who wanted to come, but we didn't do too well in that environment.

Netanel Miles-Yepez: Was it a public failure or a private disappointment? Sudha?

Sudha Puri: It was a "private disappointment." Often they were actually quite successful from the standpoint of the audience. One of the more successful was at the Harmonium Mundi Conference in California, the year His Holiness the Dalai Lama got the Nobel Peace Prize. Mataji and Father Thomas spoke, and it was really one of the hits of the conference, because a number of the attendees had heard about the Snowmass Conference—that we had bonded in an amazing way—and were eager to hear more about it. And the truth was, we were eager to bring some of the richness of what we were experiencing to others… but, generally, the dialogue ended up feeling artificial for us. We weren't sharing at the same level, not really; we were performing in a sense. So, even though these occasions were great successes from the perspective of the audience, none of us felt satisfied by the experience, because the essence of the Snowmass Conference was built on camaraderie and real honesty.

Netanel Miles-Yepez: I'm curious, Father Keating; what criteria did you use in bringing such a group together?

Thomas Keating: Really, it was all word of mouth. I had heard good things about one or another of these people, and I just extended them invitations. I wanted to do more than just a Buddhist–Christian dialogue, so I invited as broad a spectrum of people as I could.

Netanel Miles-Yepez: Tania, Sudha and Roger—you were all at that first meeting in 1984; would you mind telling how you came to be there?

Tania Leontov: At that time I was living in Boulder, Colorado, near my teacher, Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche. And while Father Keating was participating in the Buddhist–Christian dialogues with Rinpoche and others at the Naropa Institute, I was hosting him in my home, and we had some very inspiring conversations of our own.

I remember him telling me at that time how inspired he was by the dialogues he had done, but also how he regretted that some of the participants felt pressure to represent, or to be "standard-bearers" for their tradition's dogma and view when the dialogue was held as a public event. So, he was proposing to hold a private retreat for a group of interfaith leaders where they would get a chance to talk without having to support a "public face." He felt that this kind of intimate personal dialogue might be more productive in terms of true interfaith cooperation and appreciation. He also hoped that changes might come from this kind of deep sharing, bringing a measure of peace and sanity to the world.

When I heard this, I was possessed by a total passion to be a part of that conference! I couldn't say why, but I simply had to be part of it. However, my real question was, how? I really didn't feel particularly qualified; I was a teacher of Buddhism and Buddhist meditation, but I was not remotely a spiritual leader in the sense Father Tom was. So, after wrestling with my doubts, I finally called him and said, "I realize I am putting you on the spot…and trading on our friendship…but I really want to be part of this conference. And I will understand completely if you say no. But he didn't.

Netanel Miles-Yepez: Do you know why you had to be a part of it now?

Tania Leontov: Interfaith work is almost all that I am doing now in terms of both my livelihood and passion. I didn't know where the inspiration came from, but it continues to shape my life in a profound way. There is wisdom held in our spiritual paths that the world needs badly, a contact with something vast in our narrow lives, a small opening that might help to change the terrible things that are going on in our world.

Roger La Borde: It's interesting, shortly before he died, Grandfather Gerald Red Elk told me how closely he held this group to his heart . . . he believed it was a good sign that sanity still existed in the world.

I came into the group because of Gerald. Father Keating had contacted me after hearing about the now-famous meeting between Trungpa Rinpoche and Gerald at Red Feather Lakes, Colorado. Gerald was my adopted uncle and I had helped to arrange that meeting, so Tom was obviously given my name by someone in Trungpa's sangha ["community"]. When he called, he gave me a thumbnail sketch of what he intended to do with this group, and asked if I would convey an invitation to Gerald. So, I called Gerald on the reservation in Montana, gave him the background, and he said, "I will go, but only if you come with me." I told Gerald, "They aren't inviting me, they're inviting you." But he only said, "Well, you have to be there, you have things to say, you have things to do. So, you tell them I am not coming unless you go. Tell them you are my assistant."

So, when I called Tom back, as you can imagine from what we have already said, he was not too happy about the idea of having an "observer," but acquiesced to Gerald's request. As it turned out, I already knew Pema [Chödrön], who was in the group that year, so Gerald and I shared a ride with her, Tania and Yuen Yi from Boulder to Snowmass.

Sudha Puri: As with Roger, the group sort of inherited me. When Father Thomas invited Mataji to be a representative of Hinduism and Vedanta to the group, I was chosen to be her companion. She was getting older, and it was a necessity for her to have someone nearby. And I was thrilled to come, even as an observer.

Netanel Miles-Yepez: Both you and Roger were invited to become members during the second Snowmass Conference in 1985; how did that come about?

Sudha Puri: In 1985, Mataji named me as her successor, and I suppose that brought me up in the world a bit. But, likely it was more practical than that. We had decided not to record the meetings at the first conference, and since I was really an ace note taker, I could pretty much get the talk verbatim. So I was able to become indispensable to the group. Since the second conference was held at our ashram in La Crescenta, California, I was the travel agent for the group, and got to know everyone a little better.

Roger La Borde: As an observer the first year, during mealtimes and breaks, I had a number of wonderful conversations and walks with various members, but I had formed a special connection with Rabbi Rami Shapiro.

The first meeting was pretty much taken up with whether the conference would be recorded or if they were just going to allow notes to be taken. Then, after that was settled, the discussion turned to finding "points of common agreement." So, after a couple of days, they arrived at a "point" which said, "Daily disciplined meditation is essential for spiritual awakening." I had been biting my tongue for two days, but now I finally felt I had to speak up. I said, "May I ask a question?" And Rami immediately answered, "Yes." But then someone else said, "Are we going to allow an observer to participate?" I understand now how this must have seemed like the group was degenerating into the "public" situation Tom was describing before. Nevertheless, Rami piped in again and said, "He's not an observer; we want to hear what he has to say."

Rami was a big supporter and protector of mine in the first couple of years, and in the second year he jumped in at the beginning and said, "Roger is a part of this group, not an observer," and by that time, everyone else seemed to agree.

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