Would any Mennonite church group ever invite a group of Muslims to use their meeting house on Fridays? I wondered this as I stood last month in the Kyk Ota Mosque in Serabulak, Uzbekistan, because it happened in reverse in 1881, when the imam offered refuge for nine months to a wandering and very needy bunch of Mennonites.

I was in Uzbekistan with 15 other Mennonites from the U.S. and Canada to visit scenes from an amazing 2,000-mile journey a group of German/Russian Mennonites took by horse and wagon in the late 1800s. After a punishing months-long trip from Ukraine through Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, they had one nine-month stopover in Serabulak, Uzbekistan. There, the local imam gave them temporary shelter in the area around the mosque. They dealt with typhoid fever, their off-again, on-again hopes for settlement nearby, and the sad news of the deaths of two former advocates, General Kaufmann and Czar Alexander II. After leaving Serabulak and traveling for 40 more days, mostly through the desert, the surviving members finally established a colony near Khiva, which became their home for the next 50 years.

It is a tale of vision, of charismatic leadership gone astray, of courage, and of much suffering. We learned details from the diaries of leadership types -- all men; how I wished there were more remaining of the Mennonite Mama story!

Our trip followed that same Great Silk Road that had been traveled by this amazing bunch of pilgrims. We were welcomed at this mosque by local leaders who still have the local memory of the Mennonites' stay. Amazingly, the travelers at this location were even invited by the local imam to use the mosque for their worship services on Sundays -- in that same space used by Muslims on Friday! 

Standing together in this same mosque, we listened to three tour-group members read from diaries written by a grandfather and a great-grandfather, and a hymn from an account by Frank Bartsch -- all three had been part of the trek. After receiving permission from our hosts, we sang, "Come We That Love the Lord."  Tears surprised me as we sang, as those who "love the Lord" and as "children of the heavenly king." It was a holy moment shared with our new Muslim friends. The imam responded by thanking us for singing and added gracious words of peace and blessing for us and for the world. (This was interpreted for us by our expert and warm-hearted local Christian guide, Marina).

It was a time of discovery and pondering -- what made those Mennos behave as they did? Were they foolhardy? Courageous? Certainly interesting! What lessons should we take home?

But it is also a wondrous story of friendships between Christians and Muslims at that time -- with the Muslims offering hospitality and refuge. 

Helen Lapp lives in Lansdale, Pennsylvania, and is a retired administrator of the Mennonite Association of Retired Persons. Read about the end-times visions that fueled the 1880s trek, and the intercultural understanding that followed, in "Through the Desert Goes Our Journey," in the July issue of Sojourners.

In late January I had the great honor of being a participant in the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland. I was invited to participate in dialogue among Muslim, Jewish, and Christian leaders about "improving the state of the world." I imagine I was invited because of my previous work in interreligious understanding, and because of my new book Everything Must Change, which deals with global crises, including the intensification of religious conflict. I also had the chance to participate in a wonderful panel about the power of fiction to tell the truth. In my free time, I attended a number of sessions about sustainability – one of my main passions these days.

A moment on the last night of the gathering will stay with me as an icon of what we were about. I was speaking with a rabbi with whom I had been in several sessions. A Muslim woman from our group came up with her husband and we began saying our goodbyes. The rabbi looked at the two Muslims and said, "I see the light of God in you. You are radiant with the image of God." The Muslim woman said, "I feel I have a new brother in my family." A small gesture, you might say, fragile as a snowflake, easily extinguished by the avalanche of weapons and tsunamis of propaganda that sow distrust rather than mutual regard and affection. But I couldn't help but think of Paul's pregnant phrase: love never fails.

Another moment – when a Muslim conversation partner introduced me to a group of Muslims I hadn't met: "This is my friend, Brian." When people stop being "that Jew" or "that Christian" or "that Muslim," and instead become "my friend," followed by a real name … the state of the world improves a little bit.

And another – sitting with a Muslim scholar who explained to me, "If you want to understand our struggle, think of your own Declaration of Independence." She rehearsed the lines, known by heart: "… we hold these truths to be self-evident … created equal … endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable rights." She asked me what these lines were intended to do, to accomplish. I replied, "To counter the pre-modern notion of the divine right of kings with a new notion – of the God-given rights of individuals." Why, she asked, was it important to bring God in? "Because God represents an authority higher than a king's authority. If God gives individuals rights, a king loses his right to abrogate them."

Then she said, "This is a primary reason why there is such a religious revival in Islam. Millions of Muslims live under dictatorships. They need to have their human rights validated theologically so they can gain freedom from dictators, just as American colonists wanted to gain freedom from the king in 1776." Sadly, she added, many of these dictators have remained in power with U.S. support, which helps explain much of the antipathy toward U.S. foreign policy. A simple thought, perhaps obvious to many, but it clicked for me as never before.

Cynics will find a lot to criticize at Davos, but if my experience is an indicator, it is a place where uncommon conversations can happen, friendships can be born, and moments of insight can occur … each of which in some small way can improve the state of the world.

Brian McLaren (brianmclaren.net) is board chair for Sojourners. He is on a tour in 11 cities this winter and spring, mobilizing people to respond to four global crises. He posted two short video blogs from Davos.