All Faiths Network isn't part of any single religious institution. We're a small, independent network of neighbours, faith leaders and community volunteers who believe that people get on better once they've actually met.
All Faiths Network started informally, when a handful of local residents — a retired teacher, a synagogue caretaker, a Sikh youth worker and a parish volunteer among them — began meeting once a month simply to compare notes on running community events. They noticed how little contact existed between congregations that were sometimes only streets apart, and how much easier that gap was to close than anyone expected.
What began as an occasional supper club grew into a proper network with a shared calendar, a small steering group, and a habit of saying yes to any reasonable idea that got people from different backgrounds into the same room. We remain deliberately informal: no head office, no religious affiliation of our own, and a steering group that rotates every two years so no single tradition or personality comes to define us.
We take no position on whose theology is correct. Our members hold sincerely different, sometimes incompatible, beliefs about the biggest questions there are — and we think that's fine. What we ask of everyone who takes part is much simpler: curiosity instead of suspicion, and the assumption that a neighbour of a different faith is worth getting to know before being judged.
We also try to be useful, not just friendly. When local families have needed emergency support, when a place of worship has faced vandalism or hostility, or when the council has asked for a community voice on local planning, the network has shown up — because solidarity works best when it's already been practised over tea.
You can hold your beliefs firmly and still sit at the same table as someone who holds different ones just as firmly.
No tradition chairs the meeting by default. Hosting, speaking slots and decisions rotate.
Fewer panel discussions, more shared meals, walks, and practical projects where conversation happens naturally.
People of any religion, none, or somewhere in between are equally welcome — we ask only for good faith.
We're not trying to make headlines. We're trying to still be here, doing this, in twenty years.
A handful of neighbours from different congregations begin meeting monthly to swap notes on community work.
The first Festival Trail invites the public to open days at five different places of worship over one weekend.
A small schools programme starts, offering visits and speaker panels for local students studying religion and belief.
Regular gatherings move online for a period, and a phone-buddy scheme keeps isolated members connected.
The network organises a rapid solidarity response after a local place of worship is targeted with vandalism.
Around thirty gatherings a year, nine faith and belief traditions represented, and a growing list of community partners.