You are currently browsing the tag archive for the ‘Islam’ tag.
Today I saw that a letter to editor of mine has been published in the local newspaper. Check it out, and check out the cartoon to which it’s a response. Incidentally, the paper edited my letter to change “Palestine” to “Palestinian territory” — standard editorial policy, I’m sure, reflecting their strongly right-wing Zionist position as a Bible Belt newspaper.
A discussion initiated by a friend of mine has brought to my attention the controversy in New York right now over whether to allow a mosque to be built a few blocks away from Ground Zero. Apparently this is a pretty high-profile issue the city at the moment.
I find it hard to conclude that the city government would be in the wrong, at least politically speaking, to deny permission to build the mosque, given the emotions conjured up by this issue and the repercussions that such a move could have.
That said, I believe that were NYC to decide, after appropriate deliberation and some semblance of consensus, that the mosque construction could go forward, it would constitute a tremendous act of moral courage and, in fact, a tremendous act of patriotism. Allowing the mosque to be built would say to Muslims that (1) we recognize the legitimacy of your religious tradition, (2) we recognize that your religion has been maligned and distorted by those who would coöpt it for their own hate, and (3) in solidarity with you and all whose identities and communities are misrepresented and perverted, we will help you build a better image of your faith and advance its inherent desire for peace, working for a future that we can share in common rather than hold in division.
As for patriotism, it would say (1) that America is wise enough to distinguish between those who want peace and those who want war (though this idea is by no means obvious to most of the world, due to our own foreign policy!), (2) that America is strong enough not to throw out that which works for good, for justice, and for peace in Islam with that which perverts it for the ends of evil, and (3) that America is a place that people of all faiths can share together and with pride.
Of course, from my personal perspective as a Christian, I support this as well, and even more strongly. I believe that the message of Christ reveals to us a God of infinite grace, of radical welcome, and of always-expanding love. How better to spread that message than to welcome with open arms those who often find themselves among the most maligned and marginalized in this country? Is there a better way to “love your neighbor as yourself”?
I believe, therefore, that not only should the city of New York allow this mosque to be built, but that the Christian community of New York should be among those most vocally in support of this effort.
This post is part of a series where I’m sharing some of my reflections from my senior project, for which I spent three full days in solitude at Lake Hiwassee, NC. For a fuller explanation, see the introductory post.
One of the most important insights I gained from my experience was this: Looking intently has great value. If we pay attention to the world around us, if we’re willing to take some time out of our busy schedules to stop and stare at the roses (not even to smell them, necessarily!), everything becomes interesting. This lets us find a sense of wonder, curiosity, and amazement in the world, and this new way of looking at everything, in turn, allows us to find God more easily.
This insight arose mainly out of one event in particular. While down at the dock, I saw some ants crawling, and I began to watch them. The ants were crawling all around, maybe looking for food. I continued to look intently at them, allowing myself to become interested in what I would typically consider boring. I turned over a nearby piece of bark, revealing a swarm of maggots or larvae of some kind, possibly termites. A moment later I noticed an ant carrying one of these other insects, which were the same size as the ants. I watched the ant carry the other insect for several minutes. It climbed two steps and eventually disappeared into the ground; it seemed to struggle along the way, and the other insect appeared still to be alive. The whole area – ants, termites, plants – was like another universe, another microcosm. What worlds we destroy with every step!
That was all. But somehow, it was fascinating. If you allow yourself to look intently, purposively, with a sense of curiosity and amazement, even the ordinary and the mundane can hold your interest. I didn’t gain any deep philosophical or theological insights from the ants directly. What I did gain, however, was something much more important: a profound sense not just of interest and curiosity, but of wonder, even of amazement.
I don’t think I’m the first to say this, and it feels like I’m quoting someone, but I believe now that a theology that lacks a sense of wonder lacks much indeed. God reveals himself in the smallest of things, and theologians should go into all the world with a sense of amazement through faith at the grace of the revelation all around us.
This idea of wonderment must be connected, I think, to the theme of one of my earlier posts: that we can see God in all of nature, that everything is spiritual. During my project, I reread Yann Martel’s novel Life of Pi, and found that it too developed these two themes, of wonderment and natural revelation. In Chapter 31, the protagonist, Pi Patel, guides his Sufi Muslim mentor, Mr. Kumar, through the zoo his father operates:
[Mr. Kumar] marveled at everything, at how to tall trees came tall giraffes, how carnivores were supplied with herbivores and herbivores with grass, how some creatures crowded the day and others the night, how some that needed sharp beaks had sharp beaks and others that needed limber limbs had limber limbs. It made me happy that he was so impressed.
He quoted from the Holy Qur’an: “In all this there are messages indeed for a people who use their reason.”
Mr. Kumar, the Muslim mystic, exhibits exactly that sense of wonderment that is so necessary for an appreciation of the divine, and for him too it is integrally linked to an appreciation of God’s revelation in nature. Every time we step into some new environment, we too should be filled with amazement and marvel at the messages God has left us.
We find then that wonderment opens our eyes to a point where the Psalmist and the Prophet agree — for truly do the heavens declare the glory of God, and in all this there are messages indeed.
