By Jonathan Kivell

From the very beginning of its history, Queens has been a place where religious freedom has been cherished, and people of all faiths and creeds have come together to live in harmony, without fear or uncertainty.

It is the place where the first document of religious freedom in the country was drafted, and the spot where the Bowne House – a symbol of religious tolerance – still stands as a reminder of the borough’s open-minded roots.

Today, as the borough’s foreign-born population continues to increase and new religious practices are continuously being practiced within the borough’s borders, Queens’ belief in religious freedom is more evident than ever. And no place acts as a better microcosm of Queens’ religious diversity than the birthplace of religious tolerance in the borough – Flushing.

The story of Queens religion begins in 1657, when New Amsterdam Governor Peter Stuyvesant mandated that his Dutch Reform religion be the only one practiced in the area. A group of Quakers in the Town of Flushing known as the Society of Friends rose in opposition, which angered Stuyvesant, and led him to issue an order forbidding anyone in Flushing from admitting Quakers into their homes for any reason.

The Quaker Meeting house on Northern Boulevard is where a group of Flushing townspeople signed the Flushing Remonstrance in 1657 declaring free worship for all. Tribune Photo by J. Davis

John Bowne, an Englishman who was sympathetic to the plight of the Society of Friends, welcomed the Quakers into his Flushing house, where Sunday services were held in his kitchen. As disdain grew for Stuyvesant’s strict religious policies, residents saw the need for action, and in 1657, drafted the Flushing Remonstrance. 

The historic document stated, “We are bound by the law of God and man to do good unto all men, and evil to no man; and this is according to the Patent and Charter of our Town given unto us in the name of the States General which we are not willing to infringe and violate.” The Remonstrance extended free worship to Jews, Turks, and Egyptians, as well as Quakers. The document was signed two days after Christmas by 30 people who risked losing their jobs and their land by supporting the document. 

Bowne, who was not an original signer of the Remonstrance, continued allowing his house to be a place of Quaker worship until Dutch officials found him, jailed him, and banished him from the colony.  Bowne was banished on a ship that was due to sail to “wherever it may land,” and ended up landing in Ireland.

Bowne made his way to Amsterdam, and eventually pleaded his case with the colony-owning Dutch West India Company, which declared Bowne a free man.  The company then sent the Dutch New World officials a note: “Let everyone remain free.”  Bowne returned to his Flushing home, and the Flushing Remonstrance served as a reference for both the Declaration of Independence and First Amendment to the Bill of Rights.

Nowadays, turning south from Northern Boulevard, the Bowne House stands on the same block as the Bowne Street Community Church, which lies at the corner of Roosevelt Avenue.  A sign in front of the church reads, “Diverse Fellowship for a Diverse Community,” and the church offers two morning services on Sundays - one in English, and a later one in Taiwanese.  The church slogan is reflected in the variety of places for prayer nearby.

The Kissena Jewish Center, located on Bowne Street between Cherry and 45th Avenues, has welcomed members for over 50 years.  “People in this neighborhood pray any way they want to,” says Norman Bernstein, a Flushing resident and 30-year member of the synagogue.  “I don’t know of any other place with this much religious diversity.”  Bernstein says there are many more types of faiths represented near the Kissena Jewish Center now versus when he first became a member.  “They’re good neighbors,” Bernstein says of the members of all the surrounding houses of worship, including Shree Swaminarayn Mandir, a Hindu temple across the street, and the Boon Church of Overseas Chinese Mission down the block, located across the street from a Sikh Temple called Singh Subha.

Balbir Singh, general secretary of the Sikh Temple, which was established in 1986, says that his fellow congregation members have no disputes with any of their neighbors.  “All religions are like flowers,” says Singh, “created by God and free to blossom on their own.”  Members of this group of Sikhs - which means disciple or learner - attend meetings at nearby churches for meals or just to hear other community members’ speeches on religion.  Sikhs, who do not believe in conversion, welcome people into their Temple to observe their prayers and learn about Sikhism.  “We are pleased when anyone’s going to church or synagogue or temple on Bowne Street on Sunday,” says Singh, who emigrated from Punjab, India in 1988. “It means that they’re celebrating their faith.”

That kind of celebration has been at the foreground of community organizations in Flushing that aim to unify people regardless of skin color or religion.  One such organization is the Network for Intergroup Harmony, which was founded in 1987 through the work of Julia Harrison – councilwoman at the time – in order to ensure peace between peoples of Flushing after a racially charged murder had occurred in Howard Beach.

Jewish children sing praise to their faith in Flushing.

The network convenes monthly to update representatives from local churches, mosques, synagogues, as well as the City’s Human Rights Commission on local multiracial and religious affairs.  “Some people are more vocal than others about fully integrating our community,” says Rita Cassel, the network’s secretary, who has lived in Flushing for the past 76 years.  “I believe that people are accepting of others, especially in a community like this where you have a representation of the entire world.”

After Sept. 11, the Network for Intergroup Harmony – headed by Reverend Nicholas Tweed of the Macedonia AME Church – convened members of several houses of worship for a program at a local mosque.  The meeting was intended to show non-Muslims that not all Muslims are violent fundamentalists.

Back on Bowne Street, the Hindu Temple Society of North America - the continent’s first Hindu Temple - convenes in an ornate gray building with sacred images adorning its entryway.  The temple, which welcomes members from around the tri-state area, hosts interfaith activities among the neighborhood houses of worship.  “The religious freedom and diversity here is amazing,” says Kadayam Srinivasan, administrator of the temple’s community center.  Srinivasan, who emigrated from Bombay, India four years ago, says that he learns a lot from other religions, and finds many similarities in the faiths nearby. “These houses of worship all have faithful members, and all their members love God, regardless of the name of the religion.” 

At the end of Bowne Street - at Rose Avenue - sits Iglesia Evangelica Presberiana.  The church, which welcomes members from all Central and South American nations, is now opening its doors to Korean Presbyterians.  Diversity on this one strip of Flushing, however, is evidenced by more than just religious buildings, as one stretch road is lined with storefronts in Russian, Spanish, Korean, and English.

“Flushing, Queens is the most religiously and ethnically diverse community in America,” says R. Scott Hanson, a visiting associate professor of American History at Philadelphia University, who wrote his doctoral dissertation at the University of Chicago on the religious composition of Queens.

 “There’s such a variety of people living together in less than one square mile.  It’s a fascinating place.”  Hanson, whose book, City of Gods: Religious Freedom, Immigration, and Pluralism in Flushing, Queens - New York City 1945-2000, is under review for publication, asserts that the rise of religious diversity in Flushing came from a 1961 zoning law - making it easier to build houses of worship, as “community facilities” - and the area’s demographic change from the 1970’s fiscal crisis.  “Flushing’s composition reflects the rest of our country.” says Hanson, “It’s overwhelmingly Christian, and to a lesser extent Jewish.”

Hanson’s work compares Flushing with places in Israel, and questions why similar religious strife does not occur in our borough.  While the area’s history as a beacon of religious freedom may be a clue into the peace with which everyone on Bowne Street prays, Hanson believes it’s just because so many different peoples are there.  “In New York - and Queens in particular - everyone rides the subway together and lives in a tightly knit community.  If you grow up with that kind of diversity, you’re going to become more tolerant of others.”