My year-long participation in the Patience Scholars Collective in 2024, sponsored by Interfaith America and the Templeton Religious Trust, provided a unique opportunity to reflect on the vital role patience plays in interfaith teaching.

As a professor of religious studies and philosophy at Washington College, a liberal arts college in Maryland, I regularly teach young students about diverse religious traditions. Over time, I’ve come to see that patience is essential — not just for me as an educator, but for my students too. Guiding students through a classroom filled with diverse beliefs, practices, and cultures demands not only time and perseverance but also empathy.

I define patience as a radical acceptance of obstacles or burdens we face on the path to any meaningful goal. Imperfection is an inevitable part of human experience. Recognizing this, especially when navigating challenges related to faith, has become invaluable in my teaching. Patience allows me — and my students — to embrace our differences and cultivate deeper, more meaningful cross-cultural and interfaith understanding. I’ve had three key teaching experiences that illustrate the profound impact of patience in the classroom.

When My Faith Is Attacked

As a Confucian scholar, I don’t just study Confucianism — I strive to embody it as a spiritual identity. Yet, there are moments in my interfaith teaching when my beliefs are challenged. One such instance occurred in my Comparative Religion: Eastern course, where a student passionately critiqued Confucianism for its patriarchal elements. He argued that Confucianism’s history of oppressing women was so deeply entrenched that it invalidated the entire tradition. His sweeping generalizations, delivered with intensity, left some classmates visibly uncomfortable, though a few echoed his concerns.

After class, I felt upset, believing my faith had been unfairly attacked. However, patience allowed me to pause and reflect before reacting. I arranged a private meeting with the student, encouraging him to refine his critique with more academic rigor. In the next class, I introduced a section on Confucian feminism, presenting both the oppressive and progressive perspectives on women within the tradition.

By the semester’s end, the student delivered an insightful project comparing the educational philosophies of Mengzi and Xunzi, two key Confucian thinkers. He developed a newfound appreciation for Confucianism, especially Mengzi’s belief that education nurtures innate human goodness. In Mengzi’s view, teachers are not authoritarian figures dictating answers but are guides who assist in each student’s self-growth. Later, I discovered that the student’s critique stemmed from personal experience — his mother had been a victim of domestic violence. This context deepened my understanding of his initial intensity. Without patience — both in hearing him out and guiding him toward a more nuanced view — this resolution might not have been possible.

When Teaching a Faith I Suspected

Teaching Daoism has always been a challenge for me. As a Confucian practitioner, I disagree with some of its core beliefs, and the diversity within Daoism — especially its esoteric practices like outer alchemy, sexual regimens, and embryonic breathing — can be difficult to present accessibly. Over time, I noticed that my students were also less engaged with Daoism compared to other Eastern traditions. For example, one Muslim student shared that while she appreciated aspects of Hinduism, Buddhism, and Confucianism, Daoism’s tendency to overly devalue education and civilization made it hard for her to connect with.

Despite my reservations, I believe that every tradition deserves a fair and rigorous presentation. Patience was essential in finding ways to make Daoism more engaging. After years of experimenting with different materials, I decided to incorporate ancient Chinese music, like guqin performances, and landscape painting into the Daoist section of the course. The long, fading notes of the guqin and the vast empty spaces in landscape paintings beautifully reflect Daoism’s emphasis on non-being or nothingness. These cultural expressions provided students with the time and space they needed to connect with Daoism in a way that felt more tangible and accessible.

Additionally, I realized that I didn’t have to approach Daoism with personal investment but could present it as a teaching expert from a more neutral standpoint. This shift allowed me to enjoy teaching Daoism more, and I saw increased engagement from students through their assignments. For instance, during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020, one student created a final project video that used Daoist ideas of simplicity and respect for nature as antidotes to the negative consequences of modern civilization, such as the rapid spread of pandemic. Patience, in this case, helped both me and my students find a deeper appreciation for a tradition that initially seemed distant.

Nurturing Patience in Students

One of the most effective tools I’ve implemented in my teaching is contemplative pedagogy, which fosters a silent, peaceful, and reflective space for focused learning. This approach is crucial for nurturing patience in students, helping them engage more deeply with the material, with each other, and with themselves. One practice I use is “contemplative listening,” where students listen attentively without judgment or interruption.

The process is simple but profound. Students pair up, with one speaking for two minutes about a specific course topic, often related to a faith being studied, while the other listens intently, withholding any comment or analysis. After the speaker finishes, the listener paraphrases what was said to ensure understanding. Roles are then switched, and the exercise concludes with self-reflection and gratitude.

In this practice, patience manifests in multiple ways: listening before responding, refraining from interruption, and seeking confirmation when paraphrasing. It also involves patience with oneself, allowing thoughts to emerge naturally while speaking. By cultivating this skill, students enhance not only their understanding of the material but also their respect for the pace and process of their peers’ thoughts. Over time, I’ve seen students grow more patient in their interfaith interactions and their approach to learning.

A Personal Virtue and a Teaching Necessity

Teaching interfaith traditions has shown me that patience is not just a personal virtue but a pedagogical necessity. Whether navigating critiques of my own faith, exploring traditions that feel distant, or fostering patience in my students through contemplative practices, its value cannot be overstated. By making patience central to my teaching, I aim to create a space where differences are not only tolerated but valued — where students learn to listen deeply and engage thoughtfully. While challenges may never fully disappear, embracing and working with these imperfections through patience is what makes teaching truly rewarding. In today’s diverse world, this kind of patience is crucial for fostering genuine interfaith understanding.