When I was born I was given the Hebrew name Melech Yacov. Today I still live in the area in New York where I was born. We were a semi-religious family; we belonged to a Chasidic congregation to which we went every Saturday, but we did not keep all the strict observances required in Chasidic Judaism. For those who don't know, Chasidism is known in the mainstream as "Ultra Orthodox" Judaism. They are called so because of their strict observances of Halacha (Jewish Law) and their following of Jewish mysticism (cabala). They are the strange people that you see walking down the street wearing black suits and hats and letting their beards and sideburns grow long.
We were not like that though. My family cooked and used electricity on the Sabbath, and I didn't wear a yarmulke on my head. Moreover I grew up in a secular environment surrounded by non-Jewish schoolmates and friends. For many years I still felt guilty about driving on Saturdays and eating non-kosher food.
Although I did not observe all of the rules, I nevertheless felt a strong sense that this was the way that God wanted me to live, and every time I omitted a rule, I was committing sin in the eyes of God. From the earliest days, my mother would read to me the stories of the great Rabbis like Eliezar, the Baal Shem Tov, and the legends from the Haggada (part of the Talmud other than the Halacha) and Torah.
All of these stories had the same ethical message which helped me to identify with the Jewish community, and later Israel. The stories showed how Jews were oppressed throughout history, but God always stood by His people until the end. The stories that we Jews were brought up on showed us that miracles always saved the Jews whenever they were in their greatest time of need. The survival of the Jews throughout history, despite all odds, is seen as a miracle in itself.
If a person wants to take an objective view on why most Jews have the irrational Zionist stance regarding Israel, then they must understand the way by which we were indoctrinated with these stories as children. That is why the Zionists pretend that they are doing nothing wrong at all. All of the goyim (gentiles) are seen as enemies waiting to attack, and thus they cannot be trusted. The Jewish people have a very strong bond with one another and see each other as the "chosen people" of God. For many years I believed this myself.
Although I had a strong sense of identity as a Jew, I could not stand going to Saturday services (shul). I still remember myself as a little boy being forced to go to shul with my father. I remember how dreadfully boring it was for me and how strange everyone looked with their black hats and beards praying in a foreign language. It was like being thrown into a different world away from my friends and the people I knew. This was what I thought I was supposed to be, but I (and my parents) never adopted the Chasidic life like the rest of my family.
When I turned 13, I was bar-mitzvahed like every other Jewish boy who becomes a man. I also began putting tefilin (Hebrew amulets) on every morning. I was told that it is dangerous to skip putting it on because it was like an omen and bad things might happen to you. The first day I skipped putting on tefilin my mom's car got stolen! That event encouraged me to wear it for a long time.
It was only a little while after my bar-mitzvah that my family stopped going to synagogue altogether. They could not stand the three-and-a-half hours of prayer and felt that getting me bar-mitzvahed was the most important thing. Later on, my father got into a silly quarrel with some congregation members, and we ended up not going at all to services anymore. Then something strange happened: my father was convinced by a friend to accept Jesus into his heart. God willingly my mother did not divorce my father for his conversion to Christianity, but she has kept a silent hatred of it ever since.
This was also a period in my early-teen years when I sought to find something to identify with. My father's conversion helped me question my own beliefs. I began asking questions like: What exactly is a Jew anyway? Is Judaism a culture, a nation, or a religion? If it is a nation, then how could Jews be citizens of two nations? If Judaism is a religion, then why are the prayers recited in Hebrew, prayers for Eretz Israel, and observance of "Oriental" rituals? If Judaism was just a culture, then would not a person cease to be a Jew if he stopped speaking Hebrew and practicing Jewish customs?
If a Jew was one who observes the commandments of the Torah, then why is Abraham called the first Jew when he lived before the Torah came down to Moses? Incidentally, the Torah doesn't even say he was a Jew; the word Jew comes from the name of one of Jacob's 12 sons, Judah. Jews were not called Jews until the Kingdom of Judah was established after the time of Solomon. Tradition holds that a Jew is someone whose mother was Jewish. So you can still be a Jew if you practice Christianity or atheism. More and more I began to move away from Judaism. There were so many laws and mitzvahs (good deeds) to observe. What is the point of all these different rituals, I began to question. To me they were all man-made.
I was fascinated with Native American culture and their bravery in the face of the white settlers who stole their land. The Native Americans had over 250 treaties broken with them, and they were given the worst strips of land that no one wanted. The story of the Native Americans is similar to that of the Palestinians. The first Palestinians were living in Palestine for thousands of years and suddenly Jews replaced them, and the natives are forced into refugee camps in which they still live. I asked my parents how the Palestinians are different from Native Americans, and the only answer I got was "because they want to kill all Jews and drive them into the sea." My understanding of the Palestinian people put me above any of the Jews, their leaders, and Rabbis whom I once viewed as wise men. How could any good Jew deny that Palestinians were killed and forced from their land to make way for Jewish settlements? What justifies this act of ethnic cleansing – the fact that many Jews died in the Holocaust! Or is it because the bible says it’s "our" land? Any book that justifies such a thing would be immoral and hence not of God.
When I reached high school, I became interested in philosophy and read many of the great thinkers of the past. I spent time with good friends who read philosophy and who went along with me through the bumpy paths to Truth. One of the philosophers who had an impact on me was the Jewish-born Spinoza. Spinoza was a 17th century Talmudic student who questioned everything he was taught such as the belief in life after death, a belief that is found nowhere in the Torah. In fact many of the early Jews didn't have such a belief. Spinoza was expelled from the Jewish community for his views. I enjoyed reading his views on the Bible, which he said could not be taken literally without a boat-load of contradictions and problems.
Then I read two significant books that completely swept away any ounce of sympathy I had left for Judaism. The first book was called "On the Jewish Question" by Abram Leon. Leon was an underground Communist organizer in Belgium during World War II, and later he was caught and died at Aushwitz. His book answered the age-old question: Why did the Jews survive for so long? He gave a superb historical account of the Jews from the age of antiquity to the modern day and shows that their survival was by no means a miracle. In the words of Karl Marx, "It is not in spite of history that the Jews survive but because of it." First, he shows how much of the Jewish community left Israel on their own accord before the destruction of Jerusalem. Then he explains that the Jews were valuable to the kings and nobles of the middle ages because of their status as middle men. Then he shows how during the process of capitalist accumulation the status of Jew finally took a downward turn and they were subsequently persecuted for their usury.
The second book that affected me greatly was called "Who Wrote the Bible?" by Elliot Freedman. It takes up the historical task of Spinoza. The book proves that the Torah is actually written by 4 different people. Freedman explains to us that there were 2 different traditional accounts from the Kingdom of Israel and Judah, and that a redactor intertwined them together to get the Bible we have today.
Besides reading philosophy with my friends, we also took up many different political causes in our youth. We experimented in everything from Republicanism to Communism. I took up reading all the works of Marx, Lenin, Stalin, Mao and Trotsky. I found in Marxism what I felt was missing in my life. I believed that I had found all the answers to everything and hence felt intellectually superior to everyone. The philosophy bandits (as I like to call us) got together and formed our own little Socialist club. We went to different activist events like protests and labor strikes.
After meeting all the different cult groups that surrounded the political left in America we all became disgusted at the way they acted and denied reality. No revolution would be made in a country by this type of people. Fighting for social change cannot win by using methods of the past.
Although I gave up the fight for revolution, I became an active pro-Palestinian organizer. This is the one cause about which I was very passionate. We were very small and attacked by the mainstream which gave me a sense of pride. I wanted the world to know that not all Jews are bad people. It shames me to see people whom I once looked up to support the aggressive regime of Israel. The lies coming from Israel are nothing less than holocaust denial.
Although I gave up Judaism and looked at this world as the ultimate aim of man, I was never really an atheist. However, I had a strong hatred of all religion and believed that it was a tool of the people in charge to use to keep everyone else in check. When you see the way fundamentalist Christians act in America, doing things like denying science and upholding values of old white men, you can understand why I was skeptical of all religions. The way Jews acted toward Palestinians did not help either. Nevertheless, I still believed in God in the very back of my mind. But with religion gone, I had a big emptiness left in me. I sometimes even wished that I was a religious person because I felt that they lived happier lives.
Honestly I do not remember what got me interested in Islam, especially after many years of strong anti-religious feeling. As a child, I remember hearing my mother talk about Islam, and how Muhammad (peace be upon him) worshipped the same God as us, and also how Jews are related to Arabs through Abraham. So in a way I kind of accepted Islam as just another religion that worships God. I have a faint memory of my cousin (a Chasid) who said to me that if a Jew gives up his life as a Jew and lives like a Muslim, he wouldn't be committing any sin! Looking back I am astonished to have heard such a thing.
When September 11th happened, there was a surge in anti-Islamic propaganda in the news. From the very beginning, I knew that it was all lies because I already had developed the perspective that everything in the media protects the interests of those who control it. When I saw that the most militant people in attacking Islam were fundamentalist Christians, Islam started looking more attractive to me. I thank God for what I learned in my activist days, because without the knowledge of society and the media, I would have believed all the garbage that I heard about Islam on the television.
One day I remember hearing someone talk about scientific facts in the Bible so I wondered if the Qur’an had scientific facts in it. I did an Internet search and I discovered a lot of amazing stuff. I subsequently spent a great deal of time consuming articles on various aspects of Islam. I was surprised of how logically consistent the Qur’an was. As I read the Qur’an, I would compare its moral message to that of what I learned from the Bible and understood how much better it was. Also the Qur’an was not nearly as boring as reading the Bible. It's fun to read. After about 5 months of intense study I said my shahada and officially became Muslim.
Unlike my old religion, everything in Islam made sense. All the practices like prayer and Ramadan I understood already. Although I imagined Islam to be like Judaism in which one follows a series of different rules dogmatically, I was wrong. My understanding of the world also matched what Islam taught me – that all religions are basically the same but have been corrupted by man over time. God didn't make a name called Judaism and Christianity and tell people to worship him. God taught the people only Islam; that is submission to Him alone. It is as clear and simple as that.
* This story was taken from the website jewstoislam.com
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
A Conversion Story: Martin John Mwaipopo - Former Lutheran Archbishop
(It was December 23, 1986, two days away from Christmas, when Arch Bishop Martin John Mwaipopo, announced to his congregation that he was leaving Christianity for Islam. The congregation was paralysed with shock on hearing the news, so much so, that his administrator got up from his seat, closed the door and windows, and declared to the church members that the Bishop’s mind had become unhinged, that is, he had gone mad. How could he not think and say so, when only a few minutes earlier, the man had taken out his music instruments and sang so movingly for the church members? Little did they know that inside the Bishop’s heart lay a decision that would blow their minds, and that the entertainment was only a farewell party. But the congregant’s reaction was equally shocking! They called the police to take the "mad" man away. He was kept in the cells until midnight when Sheikh Ahmed Sheik, the man who initiated him into Islam came to bail him out. That incident was only a mild beginning of shocks in store for him. Al Qalam reporter, Simphiwe Sesanti, spoke to the Tanzanian born former Lutheran Arch Bishop Martin John Mwaipopo, who on embracing Islam came to be known as Al Hajj Abu Bakr John Mwaipopo) Credit must go to the Zimbabwean brother, Sufyan Sabelo, for provoking this writer’s curiosity, after listening to Mwaipopo’s talk at the Wyebank Islamic Centre, Durban. Sufyan is not sensationalist, but that night he must have heard something - he just could not stop talking about the man! Who would not be hooked after hearing that an Arch Bishop, who had not only obtained a BA and Masters degree, but a doctorate as well, in Divinity, had later turned to Islam? And since foreign qualifications matter so much to you, a man who had obtained a diploma in Church Administration in England and the latter degrees in Berlin, Germany! A man, who, before becoming a Muslim, had been the World Council of Churches’ General Secretary for Eastern Africa - covering Tanzania, Kenya, Uganda, Burundi, and parts of Ethiopia and Somalia. In the Council of Churches, he rubbed shoulders with the present chairman of the South African Human Rights Commission . Barney Pityana and the Truth and Reconciliation Commission ‘s chairman, Bishop Desmond Tutu. It is a story of a man who was born 61 years ago, on February 22 in Bukabo, an area that shares its borders with Uganda. Two years, after his birth, his family had him baptised, and five years later, watched him with pride being an alter boy . Seeing him assisting the church minister, preparing the "body and blood" of Christ , filled the Mwaipopos with pride, and filled Mwaipopo Senior with ideas for his son’s future.
"When I was in a boarding school, later , my father wrote to me, stating he wanted me to become a priest. In each and every letter he wrote this" , recalls Abu Bakr. But he had his own ideas about his life, which was joining the police force. But at the age of 25, Mwaipopo gave in to his father’s will. Unlike in Europe where children can do as they will after age 21 , in Africa , children are taught to honour their parent’s will above their own.
"My , son , before I close my eyes (die), I would be glad if you could become a priest", that’s how father told son, and that’s how the son was moved, a move that saw him going to England in 1964, to do a diploma in Church Administration, and a year later to Germany to do a B.A degree. On returning , a year later, he was made acting Bishop.
Later, he went back to do Masters. " All this time, I was just doing things, without questioning . It was when he began to do his doctorate , that he started questioning things. "I started wondering … there is Christianity, Islam, Judaism Buddhism each different religions claiming to the true religion. What is the truth? I wanted the truth" , says Mwaipopo. So began his search , until he reduced it to the "major" four religions. He got himself a copy of the Qur’an, and guess what?
" When I opened the Qur’an , the first verses I came across were, ‘ Say : He is Allah , The One and Only; Allah, the Eternal, Absolute; He begeteteth not, nor is He begotten; And there is none like unto Him? (Surah Ikhlas)’ ", he recalls. That was when the seeds of Islam, unknown to him, were first sown. It was then that he discovered that the Qur’an was the only scripture book that had been untampered with, by human beings since its revelation . "And in concluding my doctoral thesis I said so. I didn’t care whether they give me my doctorate or not - that was the truth, and I was looking for the truth." While in that state of mind he called his "beloved" Professor Van Burger.
"I closed the door, looked him in the eye and asked him ‘of all religions in the world, which is true’, I asked.
‘Islam’, he responded.
‘Why then are you not a Muslim?’, I asked again.
He said to me "'One, I hate Arabs, and two, do you see all this luxuries that I have? Do you think that I would give it all up for Islam?’. When I thought about his answer, I thought about my own situation, too", recalls Mwaipopo. His mission, his cars - all these appeared in his imagination. No, he could not embrace Islam, and for one good year, he put it off his mind. But then dreams haunted him, the verses of the Quran kept on appearing, people clad in white kept on coming, "especially on Fridays", until he could take it no more.
So, on December 22, he officially embraced Islam. These dreams that guided him - were they not due to the "superstitious" nature of the Africans? "No, I don’t believe that all dreams are bad. There are those that guide you in the right direction and those which don’t, and these ones, in particular, guided me in the right direction, to Islam", he tells us. Consequently, the church stripped him of his house and his car. His wife could not take it, she packed her clothes, took her children and left, despite Mwaipopo’s assurances that she was not obliged to become a Muslim. When he went to his parents, they, too, had heard the story. "My father told me to denounce Islam and my mother said she did not "want to hear any nonsense from me", remember Mwaipopo. He was on his own! Asked how he now feels towards his parents, he says that he has forgiven them, in fact found time to reconcile with his father before he departed to the world yonder.
"They were just old people who did not know. They could not even read the Bible…all they knew was what they had heard the priest reading", he states. After asking to stay for one night, the following day, he began his journey to where his family had originally come from, Kyela, near the borders between Tanzania and Malawi. His parents had settled in Kilosa, Morogoro. During his journey, he was stranded in Busale, by one family that was selling home brewed beer. It was there that he met his future wife, a Catholic Nun, by the name of Sister Gertrude Kibweya, now known as Sister Zainab. It was with her that he travelled to Kyela, where the old man, who had given him shelter the previous night had told him that that’s where he would find other Muslims. But before that, in the morning of that day he had made the call to prayer (azaan), something which made the villagers come out, asking his host why he was keeping a "mad" man. "It was the Nun who explained that I was not mad but a Muslim", he says. It was the same Nun who later helped Mwaipopo pay his medical fees at the Anglican Mission Hospital, when he had become terribly sick, thanks to the conversation he had had with her. The story goes that he had asked her why she was wearing a rosary, to which she responded that it was because Christ was hanged on it. "But, say, someone had killed your father with a gun, would you go around carrying a gun on your chest?" Mmmhhh. That set the Nun thinking, her mind "challenged", and when the former Bishop proposed marriage to the Nun later, the answer was "yes". Secretly, they married, and four weeks later, she wrote a letter to her authorities, informing them of her leave. When the old man who had given him shelter, (the Nun’s uncle) heard about the marriage, when they arrived at his house, they were advised to leave the house, because "the old man was loading his gun", and the Nun’s father was enraged, "wild like a lion". From the Bishop’s mansion, Mwaipopo went to live in a self built mud house. From earning a living as the World Council of Churches’ General Secretary for Eastern Africa, he began earning a living as a wood cutter and tilling some people’s lands. When not doing that he was preaching Islam publicly. This led to a series of short term imprisonments for preaching blasphemy against Christianity.
While on hajj in 1988, tragedy struck. His house was bombed, and consequently, his infant triplets were killed. "A bishop, whose mother and my own mother were children of the same father, was involved in the plot’, recalls Mwaipopo. He says instead of demoralising him, it did the opposite, as the numbers of people embracing Islam, increased, this including his father in law.
In 1992, he was arrested for 10 months, along with 70 followers, charged with treason. This was after some pork shops, against which he had spoken, were bombed. He did speak against them, he admits, saying that constitutionally, since 1913, there was a law against bars, clubs and pork shops in Dar es Salaam, Tanga, Mafia, Lindi and Kigoma. Fortunately for him, he was acquitted, and immediately thereafter, he fled to Zambia, exile, after he was advised that there was a plot to kill him. He says that that very day he was released, police came to re-arrest him. And guess what? "The women said no ways! They said that they would resist my arrest physically against the police. It was also the women who helped me cross the borders unnoticed. They clothed me in the women’s fashion!", according to Mwaipopo. And that is one of the reasons that make him admire women.
"Women must be given a high place, they must be given good education in Islam. Otherwise how would she understand why a man marries more than one wife…It was my wife, Zainab, who proposed that I should marry my second wife, Shela, (her friend), when she had to go for Islamic studies abroad", it’s the bishop who says so. Yah? To the Muslims, Al Hajj Abu Bakr Mwaipopo’s message is, "There is war against Islam…Flood the world with literature. Right now, Muslims are made to feel ashamed to be regarded as fundamentalists. Muslims must stop their individualistic tendencies, they must be collective. You have do defend your neighbour if you want to be safe", he states, also urging Muslims to be courageous, citing the Islamic Propagation Centre International’s Ahmed Deedat. "That man is not learned, but look at the way he has propagated Islam".
"When I was in a boarding school, later , my father wrote to me, stating he wanted me to become a priest. In each and every letter he wrote this" , recalls Abu Bakr. But he had his own ideas about his life, which was joining the police force. But at the age of 25, Mwaipopo gave in to his father’s will. Unlike in Europe where children can do as they will after age 21 , in Africa , children are taught to honour their parent’s will above their own.
"My , son , before I close my eyes (die), I would be glad if you could become a priest", that’s how father told son, and that’s how the son was moved, a move that saw him going to England in 1964, to do a diploma in Church Administration, and a year later to Germany to do a B.A degree. On returning , a year later, he was made acting Bishop.
Later, he went back to do Masters. " All this time, I was just doing things, without questioning . It was when he began to do his doctorate , that he started questioning things. "I started wondering … there is Christianity, Islam, Judaism Buddhism each different religions claiming to the true religion. What is the truth? I wanted the truth" , says Mwaipopo. So began his search , until he reduced it to the "major" four religions. He got himself a copy of the Qur’an, and guess what?
" When I opened the Qur’an , the first verses I came across were, ‘ Say : He is Allah , The One and Only; Allah, the Eternal, Absolute; He begeteteth not, nor is He begotten; And there is none like unto Him? (Surah Ikhlas)’ ", he recalls. That was when the seeds of Islam, unknown to him, were first sown. It was then that he discovered that the Qur’an was the only scripture book that had been untampered with, by human beings since its revelation . "And in concluding my doctoral thesis I said so. I didn’t care whether they give me my doctorate or not - that was the truth, and I was looking for the truth." While in that state of mind he called his "beloved" Professor Van Burger.
"I closed the door, looked him in the eye and asked him ‘of all religions in the world, which is true’, I asked.
‘Islam’, he responded.
‘Why then are you not a Muslim?’, I asked again.
He said to me "'One, I hate Arabs, and two, do you see all this luxuries that I have? Do you think that I would give it all up for Islam?’. When I thought about his answer, I thought about my own situation, too", recalls Mwaipopo. His mission, his cars - all these appeared in his imagination. No, he could not embrace Islam, and for one good year, he put it off his mind. But then dreams haunted him, the verses of the Quran kept on appearing, people clad in white kept on coming, "especially on Fridays", until he could take it no more.
So, on December 22, he officially embraced Islam. These dreams that guided him - were they not due to the "superstitious" nature of the Africans? "No, I don’t believe that all dreams are bad. There are those that guide you in the right direction and those which don’t, and these ones, in particular, guided me in the right direction, to Islam", he tells us. Consequently, the church stripped him of his house and his car. His wife could not take it, she packed her clothes, took her children and left, despite Mwaipopo’s assurances that she was not obliged to become a Muslim. When he went to his parents, they, too, had heard the story. "My father told me to denounce Islam and my mother said she did not "want to hear any nonsense from me", remember Mwaipopo. He was on his own! Asked how he now feels towards his parents, he says that he has forgiven them, in fact found time to reconcile with his father before he departed to the world yonder.
"They were just old people who did not know. They could not even read the Bible…all they knew was what they had heard the priest reading", he states. After asking to stay for one night, the following day, he began his journey to where his family had originally come from, Kyela, near the borders between Tanzania and Malawi. His parents had settled in Kilosa, Morogoro. During his journey, he was stranded in Busale, by one family that was selling home brewed beer. It was there that he met his future wife, a Catholic Nun, by the name of Sister Gertrude Kibweya, now known as Sister Zainab. It was with her that he travelled to Kyela, where the old man, who had given him shelter the previous night had told him that that’s where he would find other Muslims. But before that, in the morning of that day he had made the call to prayer (azaan), something which made the villagers come out, asking his host why he was keeping a "mad" man. "It was the Nun who explained that I was not mad but a Muslim", he says. It was the same Nun who later helped Mwaipopo pay his medical fees at the Anglican Mission Hospital, when he had become terribly sick, thanks to the conversation he had had with her. The story goes that he had asked her why she was wearing a rosary, to which she responded that it was because Christ was hanged on it. "But, say, someone had killed your father with a gun, would you go around carrying a gun on your chest?" Mmmhhh. That set the Nun thinking, her mind "challenged", and when the former Bishop proposed marriage to the Nun later, the answer was "yes". Secretly, they married, and four weeks later, she wrote a letter to her authorities, informing them of her leave. When the old man who had given him shelter, (the Nun’s uncle) heard about the marriage, when they arrived at his house, they were advised to leave the house, because "the old man was loading his gun", and the Nun’s father was enraged, "wild like a lion". From the Bishop’s mansion, Mwaipopo went to live in a self built mud house. From earning a living as the World Council of Churches’ General Secretary for Eastern Africa, he began earning a living as a wood cutter and tilling some people’s lands. When not doing that he was preaching Islam publicly. This led to a series of short term imprisonments for preaching blasphemy against Christianity.
While on hajj in 1988, tragedy struck. His house was bombed, and consequently, his infant triplets were killed. "A bishop, whose mother and my own mother were children of the same father, was involved in the plot’, recalls Mwaipopo. He says instead of demoralising him, it did the opposite, as the numbers of people embracing Islam, increased, this including his father in law.
In 1992, he was arrested for 10 months, along with 70 followers, charged with treason. This was after some pork shops, against which he had spoken, were bombed. He did speak against them, he admits, saying that constitutionally, since 1913, there was a law against bars, clubs and pork shops in Dar es Salaam, Tanga, Mafia, Lindi and Kigoma. Fortunately for him, he was acquitted, and immediately thereafter, he fled to Zambia, exile, after he was advised that there was a plot to kill him. He says that that very day he was released, police came to re-arrest him. And guess what? "The women said no ways! They said that they would resist my arrest physically against the police. It was also the women who helped me cross the borders unnoticed. They clothed me in the women’s fashion!", according to Mwaipopo. And that is one of the reasons that make him admire women.
"Women must be given a high place, they must be given good education in Islam. Otherwise how would she understand why a man marries more than one wife…It was my wife, Zainab, who proposed that I should marry my second wife, Shela, (her friend), when she had to go for Islamic studies abroad", it’s the bishop who says so. Yah? To the Muslims, Al Hajj Abu Bakr Mwaipopo’s message is, "There is war against Islam…Flood the world with literature. Right now, Muslims are made to feel ashamed to be regarded as fundamentalists. Muslims must stop their individualistic tendencies, they must be collective. You have do defend your neighbour if you want to be safe", he states, also urging Muslims to be courageous, citing the Islamic Propagation Centre International’s Ahmed Deedat. "That man is not learned, but look at the way he has propagated Islam".
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Friday, December 21, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
A Brazilian Linguist Finds Islam
Are those who know equal to those who know not? It is only men of understanding who will remember.] (Az-Zumar 39:9)
These were the first words from the Qur'an that touched me. And when I read that I could not stop thinking about it. I wondered what should I really know to understand? What really is knowledge?
What is it in reading books and studying theories, philosophies and thoughts if at the end we still do not find any meaning for our existence? Western answers for this dilemma just made me frustrated, uncomfortable, hopeless and, at the end, depressed.
At that time I could not believe in God nor pray anymore. How it happened? I do not know.
What I know is that it was like in one day I believed in God (I was Christian – a Protestant) and the next day to think about the existence of a God, Creator, was like nonsense to me.
I used to read part of the Old or the New Testament every day and also make studies of it. I found nice words there, but unreal ones. I mean, without applicability. I have never seen anyone living in accordance with these words.
Observing the way people live, the way things happen, the way deals and arrangements are done around the world to make ones superior to others, I, in my mind, concluded that this is a very unjust and unfair world. The Bible's words, so nice, were not more than some man's invention.
Religion was not more than a way to keep the poor and the oppressed people calm, satisfied and submissive, like cattle. It was verily the opium for the people. It was a way to keep the uncontrollable mankind under some rules that allowed him to live without kills each other at least openly.
In this point it was easy to lose my faith, my belief. I thought, "If there is a God, he is cynical and unfair. I do not make deals with unfair people, I do not make deal with an unfair god."
I wished I had never learnt how to read and wished just be like other people around me. Going to work, coming back home, watching TV (and accepting all what is said there), reading Sidney Sheldon, buying clothes, etc. I thought maybe I could be happy living in that way. Alienated.
But I was in a path without return. What I have seen, read, observed was me and I could not find any reason to be alive anymore.
I stopped making questions and chose one definite answer: this entire world and the whole creation were by chance and full stop. Done. The problem of the creation was solved and the mankind was just pathetic and ridiculous.
But for some reason at that time I could not nominate (and now I call destiny) I still could not sleep well seeing injustices and manipulation practiced for some groups above others. I chose a side and a cause to defend.
I chose to learn more about Muslims and defend their cause. I could choose another "minority" or oppressed people, but, for reasons that Allah knows better, I chose Muslims.
I had never heard about Islam before, but I was curious to know who was those that the western world was calling terrorists. I knew if the TV was showing them as evil, it was necessary to investigate because something was hidden on the whole story.
To know about Muslims and Islam I should be in touch with Muslims. In Brazil, my country, we do not have too many communities. Then I went to the Internet and met many in chat rooms.
One young Saudi Muslim told me about Nizar Qabbani and I researched about him and found a poem called "I am with Terrorism". The poet quotes many events and places totally unknown to me and I realized how ignorant I was. I had never heard about any of those facts.
One day, I was chatting with a chat friend (today a loved brother) and he showed me a site where I could read the Qur'an. I opened it and random a surah (chapter) to read.
The title was in Arabic and I asked him the meaning in English and he told me it was the "Day of Judgment". He told me that he was wondering why I chose exactly that surah, that should be an advice.
I remember I said to him if there is a God and if He is Omniscient, Omnipresent, Omnipotent, He knows that words of punishment cannot affect me at all. Instead I am looking for words of hope, reasonable and effective words of hope.
At that time I remember that every night I had the same wish: I wish I could not wake up tomorrow. But the next day my eyes were opened again. It was reaching an unbearable level.
I left Brazil and came to Germany.
One day I was really desperate. I made ablution the way I read Muslims do, I prostrated the way I knew Muslims do and said "God, if You are real, release me from this situation. Show me the way."
Al-hamdu llilah. He did. I felt peace in my heart. Such peace I was looking for.
In my German class there were some sisters and I asked them some instructions. They gave me some books and my first Qur'an. May Allah bless them all.
I read the Qur'an. And there I found:
[And I created not the jinn and the mankind except that they should worship Me (Alone).] (Adh-Dhariyat 51:56)
[And We have made some of you as a trial for others; will you have patience?] (Al-Furqan 25:20)
And all the answers I was looking for were there.
My life didn't change. It was still hard most of the time. What changed was my attitude facing the life. I still have more "no" then "yes" from Allah. The difference is that now I know that He is my Lord and my Wali (Guardian), and His "no" is better to me. I am grateful.
Notes:Hagar is a 42-year-old Muslim convert. She holds a degree in linguistics and literature and is a specialist in Portuguese language and literature.
These were the first words from the Qur'an that touched me. And when I read that I could not stop thinking about it. I wondered what should I really know to understand? What really is knowledge?
What is it in reading books and studying theories, philosophies and thoughts if at the end we still do not find any meaning for our existence? Western answers for this dilemma just made me frustrated, uncomfortable, hopeless and, at the end, depressed.
At that time I could not believe in God nor pray anymore. How it happened? I do not know.
What I know is that it was like in one day I believed in God (I was Christian – a Protestant) and the next day to think about the existence of a God, Creator, was like nonsense to me.
I used to read part of the Old or the New Testament every day and also make studies of it. I found nice words there, but unreal ones. I mean, without applicability. I have never seen anyone living in accordance with these words.
Observing the way people live, the way things happen, the way deals and arrangements are done around the world to make ones superior to others, I, in my mind, concluded that this is a very unjust and unfair world. The Bible's words, so nice, were not more than some man's invention.
Religion was not more than a way to keep the poor and the oppressed people calm, satisfied and submissive, like cattle. It was verily the opium for the people. It was a way to keep the uncontrollable mankind under some rules that allowed him to live without kills each other at least openly.
In this point it was easy to lose my faith, my belief. I thought, "If there is a God, he is cynical and unfair. I do not make deals with unfair people, I do not make deal with an unfair god."
I wished I had never learnt how to read and wished just be like other people around me. Going to work, coming back home, watching TV (and accepting all what is said there), reading Sidney Sheldon, buying clothes, etc. I thought maybe I could be happy living in that way. Alienated.
But I was in a path without return. What I have seen, read, observed was me and I could not find any reason to be alive anymore.
I stopped making questions and chose one definite answer: this entire world and the whole creation were by chance and full stop. Done. The problem of the creation was solved and the mankind was just pathetic and ridiculous.
But for some reason at that time I could not nominate (and now I call destiny) I still could not sleep well seeing injustices and manipulation practiced for some groups above others. I chose a side and a cause to defend.
I chose to learn more about Muslims and defend their cause. I could choose another "minority" or oppressed people, but, for reasons that Allah knows better, I chose Muslims.
I had never heard about Islam before, but I was curious to know who was those that the western world was calling terrorists. I knew if the TV was showing them as evil, it was necessary to investigate because something was hidden on the whole story.
To know about Muslims and Islam I should be in touch with Muslims. In Brazil, my country, we do not have too many communities. Then I went to the Internet and met many in chat rooms.
One young Saudi Muslim told me about Nizar Qabbani and I researched about him and found a poem called "I am with Terrorism". The poet quotes many events and places totally unknown to me and I realized how ignorant I was. I had never heard about any of those facts.
One day, I was chatting with a chat friend (today a loved brother) and he showed me a site where I could read the Qur'an. I opened it and random a surah (chapter) to read.
The title was in Arabic and I asked him the meaning in English and he told me it was the "Day of Judgment". He told me that he was wondering why I chose exactly that surah, that should be an advice.
I remember I said to him if there is a God and if He is Omniscient, Omnipresent, Omnipotent, He knows that words of punishment cannot affect me at all. Instead I am looking for words of hope, reasonable and effective words of hope.
At that time I remember that every night I had the same wish: I wish I could not wake up tomorrow. But the next day my eyes were opened again. It was reaching an unbearable level.
I left Brazil and came to Germany.
One day I was really desperate. I made ablution the way I read Muslims do, I prostrated the way I knew Muslims do and said "God, if You are real, release me from this situation. Show me the way."
Al-hamdu llilah. He did. I felt peace in my heart. Such peace I was looking for.
In my German class there were some sisters and I asked them some instructions. They gave me some books and my first Qur'an. May Allah bless them all.
I read the Qur'an. And there I found:
[And I created not the jinn and the mankind except that they should worship Me (Alone).] (Adh-Dhariyat 51:56)
[And We have made some of you as a trial for others; will you have patience?] (Al-Furqan 25:20)
And all the answers I was looking for were there.
My life didn't change. It was still hard most of the time. What changed was my attitude facing the life. I still have more "no" then "yes" from Allah. The difference is that now I know that He is my Lord and my Wali (Guardian), and His "no" is better to me. I am grateful.
Notes:Hagar is a 42-year-old Muslim convert. She holds a degree in linguistics and literature and is a specialist in Portuguese language and literature.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Conversion Story Of Jeremiah McAuliffe,JR,Ph.D (Dec )97
Salaams, Well, here is my story Bism Allah, Al-Rahmen, Al-Raheem..... I was raised Catholic and went to a Catholic grade school and high school-- in the U.S. grade school is roughly age 5-14 lasting 8 years and high school is roughly age 14-18 lasting 4 years. Many then go on to 4 years of college. I am of Irish-American ethnicity and from an upper middle class economic background. I was always interested in religion, as well as things like psychology, and was reading rather broadly in the subjects even in late grade school. I often prayed the rosary and asked for faith, because that is what the Catholic nuns said one should pray for: faith. At the same time, as I grew, I was rather wild: the whole American "sex, drugs, rock 'n roll" scene, as the saying goes. What can I say? I like to party! Nothing too outrageous for a young American, but wild just the same. Anyway, in college I studied philosophy and focused on areas such as philosophy of religion and existentialism. I also studied a lot in Christianity as well as Buddhism and other religions, and psychology. (My background in psychology is strong enough such that I have done hospital-based clinical work.) I very strongly considered being a priest or a monk. I would visit a particular monastery once in a while and have twice begun the entrance procedure into a seminary for the priesthood. (Indeed I was in this process when I accepted Islam. Isn't that ironic?) So, after college I wasn't quite sure what to do: continue school, but wasn't sure if I wanted philosophy, theology or psychology. I ended up going to Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania which is in the Mideastern United States. Very pretty-- hills and rivers and forests. I studied what is called Formative Spirituality-- which you can read about at my web site. Essentially, it attempts to look at human spirituality as a natural human function-- prior to any theological or specifically religious discussion of it. I have a Master of Arts degree (M.A.) and a Doctor of Philosophy degree (Ph.D.) in this subject. These are among the highest academic degrees in the U.S. educational system. (In college you get a Bachelor's degree-- B.A.) So, that is my background. I was religious as a child and read the Bible, which often Catholics do not actually do-- relying on the priest for the interpretation and understanding. In college I practiced yoga and Buddhist/Hindu styles of meditation for about two or three years. Near the end of my first year in college I made a very conscious and ritualized type of personal vow to "go all the way" with religion. To reach enlightenment. To find God. I promised myself I would not stop. I did not practice Catholicism at that time, but later did renew my practice of it. However, as I studied various theologies, traditions, and other general religious studies I began to have major, major problems with Christian thought. For instance, it seemed clear to me that Prophet Jesus (God love him!), as a good Jew, would never have claimed divinity for himself. I concluded he did not claim to be God and that the Gospel accounts contained much more theology than biographical history. But I believed that through Jesus' life and personality God did indeed reveal His Will...... and that Jesus is Christ. (As Muslim, I still do believe that, of course.) But this was problematic. I didn't really fit anywhere! And actually, it was rough to know what to believe, or even if any of it was true. I had many, many years of really fighting for just a naked faith in God. Years of praying at night: "If You are there give it to me. You said ask and you shall receive. Well, I'm asking. You said knock and the door will be opened. Well, I'm knocking. You promised guidance to those who ask for it. I'm asking for it." And later I prayed like this: "I am sending this prayer out to the One True God, the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph, Moses and Jesus. If You are there guide me, make me Yours..." and stuff like that. I specifically used this kind of a phrase naming these people for a good length of time. During all this I consciously chose faith in God. This was pure naked faith-- not really having reasons to believe, but choosing to do so anyway. I did this because the saints in the Catholic tradition said to do so. They would say that often God seems far away or non-existent-- so keep the faith! Trust God even though you don't see Him at all. So, that is what I did. I remember one time with particular clarity. I was standing in the hall between my living room and bedroom-- it all really hit me: I had no reason to believe in God. None at all. But I remembered all I had read and said to myself: "I say 'yes' to God in spite of the fact I have no reason to believe in God. I choose to say 'yes' and have faith that it is all true." I was not really practicing Catholicism. (The last time I began application to the seminary it was because I was thinking where else could I go? It wasn't a perfect fit, but it would be the best fit.) When it came time to write my dissertation for the Ph.D. I had to include a section about a religious tradition that was not my own-- i.e. something other than Christianity. I chose Islam. Believe it or not, it was the one religious tradition I knew nothing about! This struck me as somewhat odd. But I noticed I did indeed have a prejudice against it. I felt somewhat repulsed by it, actually. (Stuff left over from the Crusades just "gets into" Euro-Americans, I think.) And plus it couldn't possibly be true-- how could there be revelation after "The Jesus Event"? It had to be just another guy who felt "inspired by God" and really effected the people around him. No big deal. It was difficult finding decent books on Islam. I had to get most by mail-order. There was an Islamic Center here so I began to go there and learn some things. (I finally learned what happened to Cat Stevens! The people at the Islamic Center were very nice. Not really what I expected. No one put the slightest pressure on me to convert. It was nothing like being around born-again or evangelical Christians, which was what I half expected. I mean, aren't all Muslims supposed to be a bit on the crazy-fanatical side? Well, they weren't like that at all. They simply presented the information and answered my questions. No one called me or bothered me or anything like that. It was rather refreshing, I must say. I repeat: there was nothing even resembling pressure to convert. Just a warm openness and a friendliness not often encountered in the States. One guy did try to get me to say the words, but everyone else jumped on him immediately and told him to be quiet. (And of course, I would never make a ritual declaration like that unless I thought it was true.) This went on for a few years. I was reading a lot ABOUT Islam, but did not read the Qur'an. Slowly, my prejudices and repulsion faded away as I learned the true stories about Muhammad (God love him!), as well as Muslim history, beliefs and theology. Then I stopped for a few years as I wasn't going to finish my dissertation. (It was resumed after I accepted Islam.) A few years pass. I read things about Islam here and there. At the behest of a good friend (non-Muslim) I read "The Autobiography of Malcolm X." After reading this I had a very strong urge to go and get and read the actual Qur'an. I called around to some bookstores and ran out and got the translation by Dawood (the one in the proper order). I will never forget that day. Ever. I can still see it happening. Little did I know what I was in for-- that my life and total world-view would be changed-- that I myself would be changed. I read the whole thing through in one sitting. I don't think I even changed position. Right from the start it grabbed me. The very beginning-- called Al-Fatiha-- is a prayer. I immediately liked it as a prayer. It was, in essence, what I already prayed: You are God the Creator. Guide me, make me into one of those You love. I certainly couldn't argue with those sentiments! Then, in the beginning of the second chapter, it gave the description of who this book was addressed to: people who believe in God, establish prayer, give in charity, believe messengers were sent to us, and that we will return to God-- well, that was me-- and that this book was not to be doubted-- that it was truly and sincerely from God to these people-- like me-- precisely to guide them-- which was what I had wanted for years. So right off, it was speaking directly to me as an individual. Right off, it wasn't just some ancient 1400 year old text. It really grabbed me and did not, would not, let go. As I read a thought began to form and then started going through my head over and over and over: "Oh my God! This is from God!" It was like being slammed in the head with a brick or a hard plank of wood. I was stunned. It was real. Not the "inspired writing" of the Bible. It was direct revelation--- it really was the Word of God. Literally. Oh my God! This really IS from God! Well, needless to say, I was floored. I knew there was something very extraordinary here. Quite amazing. Something was happening. Imagine how bizarre it would be to really see a UFO. How unusual and fantastic something like that would be. Or what if someone just started to truly levitate and fly around right in front of you? Or what if you really truly did see a miracle? Your view of the world would necessarily change after such a non-ordinary experience. What was happening to me as I read the Qur'an was beyond that. Way beyond that. So much of what I was reading in the Qur'an was stuff I was already thinking due to my academic studies in religion. The Qur'an not only confirmed things I was already thinking, but completed thoughts and ideas I was only vaguely aware of-- like things I was "half-thinking" if that makes any sense-- and then it also opened up to me an entire new universe of meaning and possibility. Suddenly, it was as if I was standing in a whole new vista-- like the open plain of a whole new world stretched out before me. Quite stunning and amazing. There was nothing that gave me pause-- I kept saying "yes" to all that I read. One thing pulled me up short and that was that Jesus did not die on the cross. But by that time, the evidence was so overwhelming to my heart, my soul and my mind that this Book was indeed EXACTLY what it claimed to be that I had no trouble accepting this as the truth from God Himself. And none of this is the slightest exaggeration whatsoever. I am not sugar-coating or embellishing my story to make it more attractive, or pious sounding, or dramatic, or whatever. I am telling the truth. (I was especially struck by how contemporary the Qur'an is-- remember my academic background. Everything about it is just absolutely brilliant! I don't know why Muslims are so afraid of contemporary philosophy, psychology, or textual criticism. There is nothing to fear. The Qur'an is very "today." Actually, it is very "tomorrow." Two weeks later I declared in public that I bear witness there is no god but God and I bear witness that Muhammad is a messenger from God. I was always able to say the first part of that. Note the two week wait. I was nervous-- was I really going to get involved with these people? This was not my cultural background, to say the least. White Americans do not become Muslim, do they? I remember standing at the masjid during this period watching them pray salat. Indeed, a news camera was there filming for a story which was then shown on the local news. It showed everyone praying salat, except for that one guy standing in the back-- and in a bright red shirt no less. C'est moi! I thought: "Who am I kidding? I really do think that Muhammad was a messenger from God." So, that was that. I would have been dishonest with myself if I did not declare what I now thought to be true, and I thus entered the Muslim ummah. This was during Ramadan/April 1992 CE. The first time I ever met a Muslim was in Turkey during Ramadan when I was around 20 years old. (I am almost 40 now.) So, all those years of prayer for guidance were answered. For real. Even today, five-six years after these events I am still amazed by it all-- not only that I'm Muslim (who would have ever thought that?)-- but all those prayers really were answered by means of my encounter with the Qur'an in light of the sunnah of Muhammad. Islam is truly the best-- and I say this coming from a background of formal study in religious issues. I am rarely at a loss for words, but I am when it comes to describing how I feel and think about Islam, the Qur'an and the sunnah of our beloved Rasool Allah, may God love him greatly. It is simply astounding. Beautiful like a work of art. Dynamic and vibrant. Brilliant in how it all unfolded. Mature-- no magic, no superstition. Excellent! What can be said but alhamduli 'Llah-- Glory to God in the Highest? Nothing! Nothing else can be said! Alhamduli 'Llah! Jeremiah D. McAuliffe, Jr., Ph.D. |
Monday, December 17, 2007
In a starling Interview, Jermaine Jackson, brother of world-famous star Michael Jackson, tells how he embraced Islam.
Islam is a religion, which transcends all petty prejudices of color, race and territorial boundaries. That is why the followers of other religions, with a nearsighted vision, have a sense of overflowing pride and relief when they embrace Islam. Deserting the religion of one?s forefathers is one of the most difficult decisions, but the golden principles and the virtues of broadmindedness of Islam have persuaded mankind to adopt it as a way of life.
Now, therefore, Islam has emerged as the greatest religion of the world. Jermaine Jackson, brother of world-famous Michael Jackson is one of those men who have left the religion of their forefathers and made Islam the inseparable part of their life. From Jermaine Jackson, he has re-named as Muhammad Abdul-Aziz. He lives in one of the luxurious palaces in the outskirts of Los Angeles (USA). The palace of Abdul-Aziz is surrounded by beautiful gardens. This is the place where he and his sisters compose their musical notes. This remains under surveillance of more than 15 security vans round the clock. This area which is known as ?Falis? in Los Angeles is considered one of the most expensive areas the world over London based Arabic "al-Mujallah" has recently published an interview of Jermaine Jackson for the first time since he became Muslim. In this interview, he has expressed his passionate love for Islam. Let us see how he responded to various questions: -
When and How did you start your journey towards Islam?
It was way back in 1989 when I, along with my sister, conducted a tour to some of the countries of Middle East. During our stay in Bahrain, we were accorded warm welcome. There I happened to meet some children and had a light chitchat with them. I put certain questions to them and they flung at me their innocent queries. During the course of this interaction, they inquired about my religion. I told them, "I am a Christian." I asked them, as to what was their religion? A wave of serenity took over them. They replied in one voice ? Islam. Their enthusiastic answer really shook me from within. Then they started telling me about Islam. They were giving me information, much in piece with their age. The pitch of their voice would reveal that they were highly proud of Islam. This is how I paced toward Islam.
A very short interaction with a group of children ultimately led me to have long discourses about Islam with Muslim scholars. A great ripple had taken place in my thought. I made failing attempt to console myself that nothing had happened but I could not conceal this fact any longer from myself that at heart I had converted to Islam. This I disclosed first to my family friend, Qunber Ali. The same Qunber Ali managed to take me to Riyadh, capital of Saudi Arabia. Till that time, I did not know much about Islam. From there, in the company of a Saudi family, I proceeded for Mecca for the performance of "Umrah". There I made public for the first time that I had become Muslim.
What were your feelings after you proclaimed that you were a Muslim?
Having embraced Islam, I felt as if I were born again. I found in Islam the answers to those queries which I had failed to find in Christianity. Particularly, it was only Islam that provided satisfactory answer to the question relating to the birth of Christ. For the first time I was convinced about the religion itself. I pray my family members might appreciate these facts. My family is the follower of that cult of Christianity, which is known as AVENDANCE of JEHOVA (Jehova's Witness). According to its creeds, only 144,000 men would finally qualify to enter into paradise. ?How comes, It remained always a perplexing creed for me. I was surprised to know that Bible was compiled by so many men, particularly about a volume scripted by King James. I wondered if a man compiles a directory and then ascribes it to God, but he does not fully comply with these directions. During my stay in Saudi Arabia I have had the opportunity to buy a cassette released by the erstwhile British pop-singer and the present Muslim preacher, Yusuf Islam (formerly Cat Stevens). I learnt a lot from this as well.
What happened when you got back to the US after embracing Islam?
When I returned to USA, American media orchestrated heinous propaganda against Islam and the Muslims. The gossips were let loose on me which really disturbed my peace of mind. The Hollywood was hell-bent upon maligning the Muslims. They were being projected as terrorists. There are many things where there is consensus between Christianity and Islam, and Quran presents Holy Christ as a virtuous Prophet. Then, I wondered, why Christian America levels baseless allegations against Muslims?
This made me gloomy. I made up my mind that I would do my best to dispel the wrong image of Muslims, portrayed by the American media. I had not the slightest idea that American media would not digest the news of my accepting Islam and raise such a great hue and cry. It was virtually acting against all its tall and much-publicized claims about the freedom of expression and the freedom of conscience. So the hypocrisy of American society came to surface and lay uncovered before me. Islam unknotted many complications for me. As a matter of fact, I came to think of myself as a complete human being, in the literal sense of the word. After becoming Muslim, I felt a tremendous change in me. I discarded all thing prohibited in Islam. This made things difficult for my family too. In short, the Jackson family tumbled altogether. Threatening letters poured in, which further intensified the worries of my family.
What sort of threats?
Well, they would tell me that I had nurtured the animosity of American society and culture, by entering into the laps of Islam, you have deprived yourself of the right to live with others. WE would make life unbearable for you in America so on, so forth. But I confess that my family is broadminded. We have held all religions in esteem. Our parents have trained and groomed us in that way. Therefore, I may say that the Jackson family enjoys friendly relation with people belonging to almost all religions. This is the result of that training that I am being tolerated by them so far.
What was the reaction of your brother Michael Jackson?
On my way back to America, I brought a number of books from Saudi Arabia. Michael Jackson asked me himself for some of these books for study. Before this, his opinion was influenced by the propaganda of American media against Islam and the Muslims. He was not inimical towards Islam, but he was not favorably disposed towards Muslims either. But after reading these books, he would keep mum and not say anything against Muslims. I think perhaps this is the impact of the study of Islam that he diverted his business interests towards Muslim traders. Now, he has equal shares with the Saudi billionaire prince Waleed bin Talal, in his multi-national company.
It was said earlier that Michael Jackson was against Muslims, then there are rumors that he had become Muslim. What is the real story?
I testify this fact, at least there is nothing in my knowledge that Michael Jackson ever said anything derogatory against Muslims. His songs, too, give message of love for others. We have learnt from our parents to love others. Only those who have their own ax to grind hurl allegations on him. When there can be a nasty uproar against me when I became Muslim, why can it not be so against Michael Jackson. But, so far, media has not subjected him to scathing criticism, although he is threatened for his getting somewhat closer to Islam. But who knows what would it look like when Michael Jackson embraces Islam.
What are the views of the rest of the members of your family about you?
When I returned to America, my mother had already heard the news of my conversion to Islam. My mother is a religious and civilized woman. When I reached home, she put forth only one question, "you have taken this decision all of a sudden, or is it the outcome of some deep and long thinking behind it?" "I have decided after a lot of thinking about it," I replied, let me say we are known as a religious family. Whatever we possess, is due to the blessing of God. Then why we should not be grateful to Him? This is why we actively participate in the charity institutions. We dispatched medicines to the poor African countries through special aircraft. During Bosnian war, our aircraft were engaged in supplying aids to the affectees. We are sensitive to such things because we have witnessed abject poverty. We used to live in a house which was hardly a few square meters capacious.
Did you ever discuss about Islam with your sister pop star Janet Jackson?
Like other members of my family, my sudden conversion to Islam was a great surprise for her. In the beginning, she was worried. She has stashed into her head only one thing that Muslims are polygamous, they do have as much as four wives. When I explained this permission granted by Islam with reference to the state of the present American society, she was satisfied. This is fact that promiscuity and infidelity is very common in the western society. In spite of the fact that they are married, western men enjoy extramarital relations with a number of women. This has caused devastating moral decay in that society. Islam safeguards the social fabric from this destruction.
As per Islamic teachings, if a man is emotionally attracted towards a woman, he should honorably give this relation a legal shape otherwise he must be contented with only one wife. On the other hand, Islam has laid down so much conditions for second marriage that I do not think that an ordinary Muslim can afford to meet these conditions financially. There is hardly one percent Muslims in the Islamic world who have more than one wife. To my view, the women in an Islamic society is just like a well-protected flower which is safe from the stray penetrating looks of the viewers. Whereas western society is devoid of the vision to appreciate this wisdom and philosophy.
What are your spontaneous feelings when you look at the Muslim society?
For the larger interest of humanity, Islamic society presents the safest place on this planet. For instance, take the example of women. American women are clad in their out-fit in such a manner that gives temptation to the male for harassment. But this is unthinkable in an Islamic society. Besides, the prevalent sins and vices have disfigured the moral fabric of western society. I believe if there is any place left where the humanity is still visible, it can not be anywhere else than in an Islamic society. Time would come when the world would be obliged to accept this reality.
What is your candid opinion about the American media?
American media is suffering from self-contradictions. Take the example of Hollywood. The status of an artist is measured here keeping in view the model of his car, the standard of this restaurant that he visits, etc. This is the media that raises someone from the dust to the skies. They do not consider the artist as a human being. But I have met so many artists in the Middle East. They have no misplaced arrogance in them.
Just look at the CNN, they do that much exaggeration about some news that it appears that nothing else has happened except that event in the world. The news of fire in the forests of Florida was given such a wide coverage as it gave the impression that the whole globe has caught fire. In fact, it was a small area, which was affected by that fire.
I was in Africa, when the bomb-blast took place in Oklahoma City. The Media, without any proof, started hinting at the involvement of Muslims in that blast. Later on the Saboteur turned out to be a CHRISTIAN!!! We may term this attitude of American media as its willful ignorance.
Can you maintain a Linkage between your Islamic personality and the culture of your family?
Why not? This linkage can be kept up for the achievement of good things.
After becoming Muslim, did you ever happen to see Muhammad Ali?
Muhammad Ali is our family friend. I have met him a number of times, after embracing Islam. He has provided useful guidance about Islam.
Have you visited Shah Faisal mosque in Los Angeles city?
Yes, of course! This is a beautiful mosque. I am myself interested to construct a similar mosque in ?Falise? area because there is no mosques in this area and the Muslim community is not resourceful enough purchase a piece of land for a mosque in such a posh area. God willing, I would do it.
Who is ignorant of the services of Saudi Arabia for the glorious cause of Islam? No doubt it has leisurely financed the projects for mosques. But this American media even does not spare Saudi Arabia; it spreads quite strange news about this country. When I first visited Saudi Arabia, I had the impression that there would be muddy housed and a very poor communication network. But when I reached there, to my great surprise, I found it culturally the most beautiful country of the world.
Who has influenced you, so far as Islam is concerned?
Many persons have impressed me. But the fact is that first I turn to the Holy Quran, therefore I do not run a risk of getting strayed on the way. However, there are many Islamic scholars that one can be duly proud of. God willing, I plan to go to Saudi Arabia with my family to perform, ?Umrah?.
Your wife and children are Muslims too?
I have seven sons and two daughter who, like me, are fully Islamic-oriented. My wife is still studying Islam. She insists on going over to Saudi Arabia. I trust InshaAllah, she would sooner join Islam. May God Almighty give us the courage and perseverance to remain on this true religion, Islam. (Ameen)
Source:http://www.islamawareness.net/Converts/jermaine.html
Now, therefore, Islam has emerged as the greatest religion of the world. Jermaine Jackson, brother of world-famous Michael Jackson is one of those men who have left the religion of their forefathers and made Islam the inseparable part of their life. From Jermaine Jackson, he has re-named as Muhammad Abdul-Aziz. He lives in one of the luxurious palaces in the outskirts of Los Angeles (USA). The palace of Abdul-Aziz is surrounded by beautiful gardens. This is the place where he and his sisters compose their musical notes. This remains under surveillance of more than 15 security vans round the clock. This area which is known as ?Falis? in Los Angeles is considered one of the most expensive areas the world over London based Arabic "al-Mujallah" has recently published an interview of Jermaine Jackson for the first time since he became Muslim. In this interview, he has expressed his passionate love for Islam. Let us see how he responded to various questions: -
When and How did you start your journey towards Islam?
It was way back in 1989 when I, along with my sister, conducted a tour to some of the countries of Middle East. During our stay in Bahrain, we were accorded warm welcome. There I happened to meet some children and had a light chitchat with them. I put certain questions to them and they flung at me their innocent queries. During the course of this interaction, they inquired about my religion. I told them, "I am a Christian." I asked them, as to what was their religion? A wave of serenity took over them. They replied in one voice ? Islam. Their enthusiastic answer really shook me from within. Then they started telling me about Islam. They were giving me information, much in piece with their age. The pitch of their voice would reveal that they were highly proud of Islam. This is how I paced toward Islam.
A very short interaction with a group of children ultimately led me to have long discourses about Islam with Muslim scholars. A great ripple had taken place in my thought. I made failing attempt to console myself that nothing had happened but I could not conceal this fact any longer from myself that at heart I had converted to Islam. This I disclosed first to my family friend, Qunber Ali. The same Qunber Ali managed to take me to Riyadh, capital of Saudi Arabia. Till that time, I did not know much about Islam. From there, in the company of a Saudi family, I proceeded for Mecca for the performance of "Umrah". There I made public for the first time that I had become Muslim.
What were your feelings after you proclaimed that you were a Muslim?
Having embraced Islam, I felt as if I were born again. I found in Islam the answers to those queries which I had failed to find in Christianity. Particularly, it was only Islam that provided satisfactory answer to the question relating to the birth of Christ. For the first time I was convinced about the religion itself. I pray my family members might appreciate these facts. My family is the follower of that cult of Christianity, which is known as AVENDANCE of JEHOVA (Jehova's Witness). According to its creeds, only 144,000 men would finally qualify to enter into paradise. ?How comes, It remained always a perplexing creed for me. I was surprised to know that Bible was compiled by so many men, particularly about a volume scripted by King James. I wondered if a man compiles a directory and then ascribes it to God, but he does not fully comply with these directions. During my stay in Saudi Arabia I have had the opportunity to buy a cassette released by the erstwhile British pop-singer and the present Muslim preacher, Yusuf Islam (formerly Cat Stevens). I learnt a lot from this as well.
What happened when you got back to the US after embracing Islam?
When I returned to USA, American media orchestrated heinous propaganda against Islam and the Muslims. The gossips were let loose on me which really disturbed my peace of mind. The Hollywood was hell-bent upon maligning the Muslims. They were being projected as terrorists. There are many things where there is consensus between Christianity and Islam, and Quran presents Holy Christ as a virtuous Prophet. Then, I wondered, why Christian America levels baseless allegations against Muslims?
This made me gloomy. I made up my mind that I would do my best to dispel the wrong image of Muslims, portrayed by the American media. I had not the slightest idea that American media would not digest the news of my accepting Islam and raise such a great hue and cry. It was virtually acting against all its tall and much-publicized claims about the freedom of expression and the freedom of conscience. So the hypocrisy of American society came to surface and lay uncovered before me. Islam unknotted many complications for me. As a matter of fact, I came to think of myself as a complete human being, in the literal sense of the word. After becoming Muslim, I felt a tremendous change in me. I discarded all thing prohibited in Islam. This made things difficult for my family too. In short, the Jackson family tumbled altogether. Threatening letters poured in, which further intensified the worries of my family.
What sort of threats?
Well, they would tell me that I had nurtured the animosity of American society and culture, by entering into the laps of Islam, you have deprived yourself of the right to live with others. WE would make life unbearable for you in America so on, so forth. But I confess that my family is broadminded. We have held all religions in esteem. Our parents have trained and groomed us in that way. Therefore, I may say that the Jackson family enjoys friendly relation with people belonging to almost all religions. This is the result of that training that I am being tolerated by them so far.
What was the reaction of your brother Michael Jackson?
On my way back to America, I brought a number of books from Saudi Arabia. Michael Jackson asked me himself for some of these books for study. Before this, his opinion was influenced by the propaganda of American media against Islam and the Muslims. He was not inimical towards Islam, but he was not favorably disposed towards Muslims either. But after reading these books, he would keep mum and not say anything against Muslims. I think perhaps this is the impact of the study of Islam that he diverted his business interests towards Muslim traders. Now, he has equal shares with the Saudi billionaire prince Waleed bin Talal, in his multi-national company.
It was said earlier that Michael Jackson was against Muslims, then there are rumors that he had become Muslim. What is the real story?
I testify this fact, at least there is nothing in my knowledge that Michael Jackson ever said anything derogatory against Muslims. His songs, too, give message of love for others. We have learnt from our parents to love others. Only those who have their own ax to grind hurl allegations on him. When there can be a nasty uproar against me when I became Muslim, why can it not be so against Michael Jackson. But, so far, media has not subjected him to scathing criticism, although he is threatened for his getting somewhat closer to Islam. But who knows what would it look like when Michael Jackson embraces Islam.
What are the views of the rest of the members of your family about you?
When I returned to America, my mother had already heard the news of my conversion to Islam. My mother is a religious and civilized woman. When I reached home, she put forth only one question, "you have taken this decision all of a sudden, or is it the outcome of some deep and long thinking behind it?" "I have decided after a lot of thinking about it," I replied, let me say we are known as a religious family. Whatever we possess, is due to the blessing of God. Then why we should not be grateful to Him? This is why we actively participate in the charity institutions. We dispatched medicines to the poor African countries through special aircraft. During Bosnian war, our aircraft were engaged in supplying aids to the affectees. We are sensitive to such things because we have witnessed abject poverty. We used to live in a house which was hardly a few square meters capacious.
Did you ever discuss about Islam with your sister pop star Janet Jackson?
Like other members of my family, my sudden conversion to Islam was a great surprise for her. In the beginning, she was worried. She has stashed into her head only one thing that Muslims are polygamous, they do have as much as four wives. When I explained this permission granted by Islam with reference to the state of the present American society, she was satisfied. This is fact that promiscuity and infidelity is very common in the western society. In spite of the fact that they are married, western men enjoy extramarital relations with a number of women. This has caused devastating moral decay in that society. Islam safeguards the social fabric from this destruction.
As per Islamic teachings, if a man is emotionally attracted towards a woman, he should honorably give this relation a legal shape otherwise he must be contented with only one wife. On the other hand, Islam has laid down so much conditions for second marriage that I do not think that an ordinary Muslim can afford to meet these conditions financially. There is hardly one percent Muslims in the Islamic world who have more than one wife. To my view, the women in an Islamic society is just like a well-protected flower which is safe from the stray penetrating looks of the viewers. Whereas western society is devoid of the vision to appreciate this wisdom and philosophy.
What are your spontaneous feelings when you look at the Muslim society?
For the larger interest of humanity, Islamic society presents the safest place on this planet. For instance, take the example of women. American women are clad in their out-fit in such a manner that gives temptation to the male for harassment. But this is unthinkable in an Islamic society. Besides, the prevalent sins and vices have disfigured the moral fabric of western society. I believe if there is any place left where the humanity is still visible, it can not be anywhere else than in an Islamic society. Time would come when the world would be obliged to accept this reality.
What is your candid opinion about the American media?
American media is suffering from self-contradictions. Take the example of Hollywood. The status of an artist is measured here keeping in view the model of his car, the standard of this restaurant that he visits, etc. This is the media that raises someone from the dust to the skies. They do not consider the artist as a human being. But I have met so many artists in the Middle East. They have no misplaced arrogance in them.
Just look at the CNN, they do that much exaggeration about some news that it appears that nothing else has happened except that event in the world. The news of fire in the forests of Florida was given such a wide coverage as it gave the impression that the whole globe has caught fire. In fact, it was a small area, which was affected by that fire.
I was in Africa, when the bomb-blast took place in Oklahoma City. The Media, without any proof, started hinting at the involvement of Muslims in that blast. Later on the Saboteur turned out to be a CHRISTIAN!!! We may term this attitude of American media as its willful ignorance.
Can you maintain a Linkage between your Islamic personality and the culture of your family?
Why not? This linkage can be kept up for the achievement of good things.
After becoming Muslim, did you ever happen to see Muhammad Ali?
Muhammad Ali is our family friend. I have met him a number of times, after embracing Islam. He has provided useful guidance about Islam.
Have you visited Shah Faisal mosque in Los Angeles city?
Yes, of course! This is a beautiful mosque. I am myself interested to construct a similar mosque in ?Falise? area because there is no mosques in this area and the Muslim community is not resourceful enough purchase a piece of land for a mosque in such a posh area. God willing, I would do it.
Who is ignorant of the services of Saudi Arabia for the glorious cause of Islam? No doubt it has leisurely financed the projects for mosques. But this American media even does not spare Saudi Arabia; it spreads quite strange news about this country. When I first visited Saudi Arabia, I had the impression that there would be muddy housed and a very poor communication network. But when I reached there, to my great surprise, I found it culturally the most beautiful country of the world.
Who has influenced you, so far as Islam is concerned?
Many persons have impressed me. But the fact is that first I turn to the Holy Quran, therefore I do not run a risk of getting strayed on the way. However, there are many Islamic scholars that one can be duly proud of. God willing, I plan to go to Saudi Arabia with my family to perform, ?Umrah?.
Your wife and children are Muslims too?
I have seven sons and two daughter who, like me, are fully Islamic-oriented. My wife is still studying Islam. She insists on going over to Saudi Arabia. I trust InshaAllah, she would sooner join Islam. May God Almighty give us the courage and perseverance to remain on this true religion, Islam. (Ameen)
Source:http://www.islamawareness.net/Converts/jermaine.html
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Christianity: The Point of Departure by Sherif Quinn
First Impressions
My first memories of anything Islamic were when I prepared to start work in Saudi Arabia. In the United Kingdom I visited my local library and read some books on the country. The place looked extraordinarily exotic and once I got there I wasn't disappointed. I vaguely knew that Saudi Arabia was the birthplace of Islam but as to the significance of the Ka`bah, Hajj, etc., I knew even less.
Some Saudi newspapers have a daily question and answer piece on Islam. The questions submitted by the readers were often extremely specific on minute, seemly irrelevant practices — for example the salah (ritual prayer) or ablution — and these questions were often read out in the work tea room by ex-pats — including myself — for amusement. It all seemed so incomprehensible — but then everything about Saudi Arabia was a culture shock, so I never considered the religion separate from the culture.
Later I shifted to the United Arab Emirates. Here, it felt almost European, laid back, sort of quasi-Mediterranean in comparison. This made me look at Islam differently — it didn't seem so tough and dogmatic as in Saudi. Inevitably again I debated Islam at work or with friends and I was impressed with the logic. Logic and religion? These two are not supposed to coexist.
School Days
Being brought up from the age of 4 at a Catholic school run by nuns, then from 11 to 18 at a school run mainly by Benedictine monks, I had undergone years of formal religious education. However, except for some various stories from the Bible, I felt I hadn't a clue as to the relationship between Christianity and real life. Also, there were just so many inherent contradictions and "mysteries" that our school teachers veered away from — so long as you had faith.
So on the one hand at school we were taught to analyze and question the rationale behind biology, chemistry, and so on, but religion was above such earthly proofs. Not surprisingly, my fellow pupils did their best to escape from compulsory church services and ceremonies. I found hymns particularly dreary; saintly statues made me queasy rather than comforted. Priestly vestments and church ornamentation alienated rather than satisfied.
Back to Arabia: I had numerous but always friendly arguments about religion with Muslims. In hindsight, I was the one who provoked the discussion (I've always liked a good argument). My curiosity aroused, I started reading some pamphlets. I was wary of people trying to "convert" me, although no one seemed particularly out to proselytize. On the contrary, my friends patiently went along with my arguments. Religious discussions were frustrating by my lack of information — I was getting fed up with this, so I embarked on a refutation of Islam through reading. I searched for the weak spot — so then I could triumph over these Arabs! I only read booklets and books that I carefully chose myself, looking only for those that were as impartial and frank as possible, written by both Muslims and non-Muslims. By necessity the reading material had to deepen. I moved on from the Ahmed Deedat type confrontational style of material. I still wasn't really convinced and kept looking for that one defect that would unravel it all.
Christianity vs. Islam
Christianity directs to turn the other cheek; whereas Islam says fight for your rights, but only when you are oppressed. Christianity says that a rich man will never enter heaven. Islam says that there is nothing intrinsically wrong with wealth; it is good so long as it is acquired legally and a portion ( 2.5 poercent) given yearly to the poor. Wealth is distinguished from greed. The noble ideals of Christianity break down in the real world.
Islam seemed to recognize the grubby imperfect lives we lead but had relentlessly accurate insight of the strengths and weakness of the human psyche. For example, respecting others privacy: Hurtful tabloid newspaper gossip is alien to Muslim countries. The highest standards of courtesy are found in daily interactions: as-salamu `alaykum ("Peace be upon you") is the recurrent greeting, compared to the cold and casual "Hi." Everyone has arguments and fallouts, but for two Muslims, after 3 days the two sides must patch up — the one who makes the first gesture is seen as the better person. Consequently, I almost never heard of the I'm-not-talking-to-him attitude that poisons relationships and is so energy consuming.
I began to realize the astonishing range of issues Islam deals with, particularly on the social side. From hygiene to education, from war time and economics, to racism, to nationalism. No matter is too small to escape its rational instruction. Throughout, the Qur'an addresses mankind, not just the bickering Arab tribes of the time. It is not limited to the period of revelation but appears to speak down the ages. I found the tone consistently serious and majestic but always simple and crystal clear. It all seemed rather practical and sensible. Religion was just not supposed to be like this. Could all this be thought up by an illiterate man 1,400 years ago? Well, maybe.
I dug a little deeper. As for the famous literary brilliance of the Qur'an that I had read of, "that inimitable symphony" described by Marmaduke Pickthall, I had no idea and could only guess at from the inadequate English translations from the original Arabic.
Doctrinal Indigestion
As I said, I had an extensive religious education. These are a few of the creeds of Catholicism that I had always found difficult:
The Christian clergy of priests, bishops, archbishops, cardinals, etc. Why do we need a hierarchy? Could a religion operate without one?
Divinity of Christ. Did he actually claim divinity? What was that first commandment again?
Doctrine of the Trinity. Sorry, I just don't get it. Anyway, some prominent Christian leaders now openly doubt it, as do some Christian sects, for example, the Unitarians.
Church statues. Idols are breakable. Anyway, what was that second commandment again?
Infallibility of the Pope. But he did make errors, for example when condemning Copernicus for saying the Earth revolved around the sun.
Original sin. A newborn baby has inherent sin and needs forgiveness (baptism)? Again, somehow difficult to understand.
Worshiping "saints." Do we need an agent to reach God?
Transubstantiation. Where bread and wine are transformed (literally) into the flesh and blood of Christ during the Mass. Are there elements of paganism here?
Christ died on the cross for the "sins of the world." If Christ died for our sins in advance, then why bother trying to be good? Anyway, did he really claim this?
And there's more, but I'll spare you.
Islam graciously cut through this ideological nightmare. One by one these muddled dogmas were clearly debunked as I dug deeper in my research. I was interested to learn that the central Christian tenets above were trashed out by a conference 300 years after Christ died. The conference was heavily prejudiced by the powerful Roman emperor of the time: not exactly divine. The monks must have forgotten to mention all that. Surprisingly, in Islam, Christ is a highly revered prophet. Also, like Muhammad, he would never be termed divine. In fact many Muslims are named `Isa (Arabic for Jesus), and Christ and Mary are mentioned in the Qur'an more times than Muhammad.
So, contrary to Christianity, Islam appeared (to me anyway) simple and clear. Today Christianity is all but dead in the West — this is scary and probably precedes an era of spiritual nihilism. The only growth area is in evangelism — where emotions are let rip. It is known by anyone who has had to reason with someone in an ecstatic or angry state, that logic and emotion do not make good bedfellows — any rational thought is thrown out the window. Some churches hire discos in a desperate attempt to attract the punters; others are becoming bingo halls. Good Christians are staying at home in droves on Sunday: for many of them, cutting the grass seems more meaningful.
I remember a Christian friend of mine complained that the Mass never seemed the same when they switched over from Latin to English — it was better when you couldn't understand it.
So, this is the sorry state to Christianity today.
Relief
My hunches that these were man-made doctrines were finally proven right. It was quite a relief. Whatever issue I examined in Islam, I could not find error nor did I have to stretch my credibility. Surely then it cannot be of human origin? No wonder the monks at school kept it all well hidden. However, my stubbornness held out another year or so.
I tried to read the Qur'an, which initially I found heavy and intense. I soon realized that this was because it was so concise and concentrated — there was no padding out. It appeared strangely succinct, like a telegraph message. Surely, I wondered, if written by Muhammad, it would be full of the narrow stories of the times, not to mention mistaken scientific beliefs of the time.
In comparison, the Bible goes in great detail regarding local events, internal wars, what so-and-so did, and local politics. All very fascinating at the time, but hardly an eternal guide for all mankind. The Bible was, of course, composed by men — and reads like a diary of the times. For example, the Gospel according to Saint… . I long wondered how that makes it divine. There are few grand concepts. The text is addressed to the small tribes of Judea. The statements authentically attributed to Christ himself are but a few dozen, and even those are colored by St. Paul and others. Also, the version we read today is translated through from Aramaic to Hebrew to Greek to Latin to English. What text could possibly have survived unchanged —especially when so many had a vested interest in the content? The many conspicuous contradictions are well known, even by Christians.
Therefore, it was almost unbelievable to learn that the Muslim sacred book, the Qur'an, was written down during Prophet Muhammad's lifetime, was checked numerous times by himself to ensure accuracy, and has remained exactly in the original language and text ever since. I was interested to read that when several thousand copies of the Qur'an were printed in Egypt with just one dumma (vowel mark) missing, they were immediately pulped. Why should a tiny dash make any difference? How did anyone spot it so quickly?
Being scientifically trained, I was interested in the scientific references of the Qur'an. These included meteorological, astronomical, physical, medical references and more. Many of these are tantalizingly subtle, for example [We made every living thing of water] (Al-Anbiyaa' 21:30). So far, no one has found any discrepancies; however, I still looked for one indisputable scientific fact that would clear up the issue: The size of the universe or the distance to the sun for example would do nicely. I could not find anything that specific, of course. Maybe that is the point: Humans always like evidence on a tray, clearly labeled.
Islamic Dogma?
I often felt Islam was dogmatic, loaded with tough restrictions and regulations. Was it all necessary? Can't we just go out and have a good time and do what we want? But upon closer examination, I saw that those who "suffer" most by such restrictions are the strongest of society. Who are these? The wealthy, young, healthy, usually male. Who are vulnerable? Women, the poor, the sick, the very young and the very old. All are strongly protected by Islamic Law, centuries before the welfare state was dreamed of. For example
Who drinks and enjoys alcohol the most? Men. However, who actually suffers most from alcoholism? Battered wives and abused children, not to mention the thousands killed or maimed by drunk drivers.
Who's restricted most by the prohibition of sexual promiscuity? A man can walk away from pregnancy. Women are biologically inclined to monogamy. So who pays the real price of promiscuity? The unwanted baby born to a single mother left to fend for herself.
Who benefits from the clothing restriction on women? Hardly the men. Women are protected and respected from predatory males, rape, and pregnancy.
Who enjoys and profits financially from pornography? Throughout history this has always been a male thing. Not many magazines seem to be owned or bought by women. It's well known that rapists and child abusers (men again, I'm afraid) are often driven and seduced by explicit pornography.
Who suffers by giving obligatory charity? The rich.
Who wants to care about the elderly in a society that worships youth? It's such a nuisance to hedonistic young people. Muslims are obliged to look after their parents and all the elderly. Again the weak are given security.
The list goes on.
It's clear that "harsh" Islamic rules actually protect the weak and those without a voice in society. It's not surprising, then, that the abhorrence against Islam, even from the very beginning at the time of Muhammad, came from the high and mighty of society. The entertainment moguls of Hollywood and elsewhere today see Islam as a severe threat to their profit margins. It's not so surprising, then, that the vast majority of those reverting to Islam are women. Also, I noticed that it was the under-trodden of society, such as the destitute Hindus of India and blacks in racist America, who feel that only Islam's ideals can address their problems.
Regarding women, I thought I had hit on the weak spot of Islam until I discovered that women enjoyed inheritance and divorce rights 1,400 years before the West discovered "Women's Lib." A wife even keeps her own name after marriage. Some of the richest people in the Muslim world are women. Contrary to my image of Muslim women being "oppressed," my personal observation was that women were not simply equal to men but in some ways held in a distinguished, almost reverential position in society. They didn't behave a bit oppressed. On the contrary, I personally cannot recall ever hearing a disparaging or sexist remark from a Muslim man regarding any woman.
Decision time
So what to do with this information? I had two choices: either to do nothing (which was tempting) or change my religion. Also I wanted to break with the Catholic Church which had lost credibility to me. I didn't want to forever be a lapsed Catholic. As far as I know, it's not possible to resign (what would I send back — my confirmation medal?). I mulled over the issue for a year or more before one spring Friday deciding to take the plunge. Now several years have passed and I have realized that far from being the end of the matter, the hard work had only just begun on that Friday. I look ahead with interest and some trepidation at the resurgence of Islam around the world — I wonder how the West will react to the inevitable rise of Islam in the next century: submit or feel threatened? Many vested interests will fight it, particularly the powerful entertainment lobbies. Whatever happens, Islam is not going to go away.
My first memories of anything Islamic were when I prepared to start work in Saudi Arabia. In the United Kingdom I visited my local library and read some books on the country. The place looked extraordinarily exotic and once I got there I wasn't disappointed. I vaguely knew that Saudi Arabia was the birthplace of Islam but as to the significance of the Ka`bah, Hajj, etc., I knew even less.
Some Saudi newspapers have a daily question and answer piece on Islam. The questions submitted by the readers were often extremely specific on minute, seemly irrelevant practices — for example the salah (ritual prayer) or ablution — and these questions were often read out in the work tea room by ex-pats — including myself — for amusement. It all seemed so incomprehensible — but then everything about Saudi Arabia was a culture shock, so I never considered the religion separate from the culture.
Later I shifted to the United Arab Emirates. Here, it felt almost European, laid back, sort of quasi-Mediterranean in comparison. This made me look at Islam differently — it didn't seem so tough and dogmatic as in Saudi. Inevitably again I debated Islam at work or with friends and I was impressed with the logic. Logic and religion? These two are not supposed to coexist.
School Days
Being brought up from the age of 4 at a Catholic school run by nuns, then from 11 to 18 at a school run mainly by Benedictine monks, I had undergone years of formal religious education. However, except for some various stories from the Bible, I felt I hadn't a clue as to the relationship between Christianity and real life. Also, there were just so many inherent contradictions and "mysteries" that our school teachers veered away from — so long as you had faith.
So on the one hand at school we were taught to analyze and question the rationale behind biology, chemistry, and so on, but religion was above such earthly proofs. Not surprisingly, my fellow pupils did their best to escape from compulsory church services and ceremonies. I found hymns particularly dreary; saintly statues made me queasy rather than comforted. Priestly vestments and church ornamentation alienated rather than satisfied.
Back to Arabia: I had numerous but always friendly arguments about religion with Muslims. In hindsight, I was the one who provoked the discussion (I've always liked a good argument). My curiosity aroused, I started reading some pamphlets. I was wary of people trying to "convert" me, although no one seemed particularly out to proselytize. On the contrary, my friends patiently went along with my arguments. Religious discussions were frustrating by my lack of information — I was getting fed up with this, so I embarked on a refutation of Islam through reading. I searched for the weak spot — so then I could triumph over these Arabs! I only read booklets and books that I carefully chose myself, looking only for those that were as impartial and frank as possible, written by both Muslims and non-Muslims. By necessity the reading material had to deepen. I moved on from the Ahmed Deedat type confrontational style of material. I still wasn't really convinced and kept looking for that one defect that would unravel it all.
Christianity vs. Islam
Christianity directs to turn the other cheek; whereas Islam says fight for your rights, but only when you are oppressed. Christianity says that a rich man will never enter heaven. Islam says that there is nothing intrinsically wrong with wealth; it is good so long as it is acquired legally and a portion ( 2.5 poercent) given yearly to the poor. Wealth is distinguished from greed. The noble ideals of Christianity break down in the real world.
Islam seemed to recognize the grubby imperfect lives we lead but had relentlessly accurate insight of the strengths and weakness of the human psyche. For example, respecting others privacy: Hurtful tabloid newspaper gossip is alien to Muslim countries. The highest standards of courtesy are found in daily interactions: as-salamu `alaykum ("Peace be upon you") is the recurrent greeting, compared to the cold and casual "Hi." Everyone has arguments and fallouts, but for two Muslims, after 3 days the two sides must patch up — the one who makes the first gesture is seen as the better person. Consequently, I almost never heard of the I'm-not-talking-to-him attitude that poisons relationships and is so energy consuming.
I began to realize the astonishing range of issues Islam deals with, particularly on the social side. From hygiene to education, from war time and economics, to racism, to nationalism. No matter is too small to escape its rational instruction. Throughout, the Qur'an addresses mankind, not just the bickering Arab tribes of the time. It is not limited to the period of revelation but appears to speak down the ages. I found the tone consistently serious and majestic but always simple and crystal clear. It all seemed rather practical and sensible. Religion was just not supposed to be like this. Could all this be thought up by an illiterate man 1,400 years ago? Well, maybe.
I dug a little deeper. As for the famous literary brilliance of the Qur'an that I had read of, "that inimitable symphony" described by Marmaduke Pickthall, I had no idea and could only guess at from the inadequate English translations from the original Arabic.
Doctrinal Indigestion
As I said, I had an extensive religious education. These are a few of the creeds of Catholicism that I had always found difficult:
The Christian clergy of priests, bishops, archbishops, cardinals, etc. Why do we need a hierarchy? Could a religion operate without one?
Divinity of Christ. Did he actually claim divinity? What was that first commandment again?
Doctrine of the Trinity. Sorry, I just don't get it. Anyway, some prominent Christian leaders now openly doubt it, as do some Christian sects, for example, the Unitarians.
Church statues. Idols are breakable. Anyway, what was that second commandment again?
Infallibility of the Pope. But he did make errors, for example when condemning Copernicus for saying the Earth revolved around the sun.
Original sin. A newborn baby has inherent sin and needs forgiveness (baptism)? Again, somehow difficult to understand.
Worshiping "saints." Do we need an agent to reach God?
Transubstantiation. Where bread and wine are transformed (literally) into the flesh and blood of Christ during the Mass. Are there elements of paganism here?
Christ died on the cross for the "sins of the world." If Christ died for our sins in advance, then why bother trying to be good? Anyway, did he really claim this?
And there's more, but I'll spare you.
Islam graciously cut through this ideological nightmare. One by one these muddled dogmas were clearly debunked as I dug deeper in my research. I was interested to learn that the central Christian tenets above were trashed out by a conference 300 years after Christ died. The conference was heavily prejudiced by the powerful Roman emperor of the time: not exactly divine. The monks must have forgotten to mention all that. Surprisingly, in Islam, Christ is a highly revered prophet. Also, like Muhammad, he would never be termed divine. In fact many Muslims are named `Isa (Arabic for Jesus), and Christ and Mary are mentioned in the Qur'an more times than Muhammad.
So, contrary to Christianity, Islam appeared (to me anyway) simple and clear. Today Christianity is all but dead in the West — this is scary and probably precedes an era of spiritual nihilism. The only growth area is in evangelism — where emotions are let rip. It is known by anyone who has had to reason with someone in an ecstatic or angry state, that logic and emotion do not make good bedfellows — any rational thought is thrown out the window. Some churches hire discos in a desperate attempt to attract the punters; others are becoming bingo halls. Good Christians are staying at home in droves on Sunday: for many of them, cutting the grass seems more meaningful.
I remember a Christian friend of mine complained that the Mass never seemed the same when they switched over from Latin to English — it was better when you couldn't understand it.
So, this is the sorry state to Christianity today.
Relief
My hunches that these were man-made doctrines were finally proven right. It was quite a relief. Whatever issue I examined in Islam, I could not find error nor did I have to stretch my credibility. Surely then it cannot be of human origin? No wonder the monks at school kept it all well hidden. However, my stubbornness held out another year or so.
I tried to read the Qur'an, which initially I found heavy and intense. I soon realized that this was because it was so concise and concentrated — there was no padding out. It appeared strangely succinct, like a telegraph message. Surely, I wondered, if written by Muhammad, it would be full of the narrow stories of the times, not to mention mistaken scientific beliefs of the time.
In comparison, the Bible goes in great detail regarding local events, internal wars, what so-and-so did, and local politics. All very fascinating at the time, but hardly an eternal guide for all mankind. The Bible was, of course, composed by men — and reads like a diary of the times. For example, the Gospel according to Saint… . I long wondered how that makes it divine. There are few grand concepts. The text is addressed to the small tribes of Judea. The statements authentically attributed to Christ himself are but a few dozen, and even those are colored by St. Paul and others. Also, the version we read today is translated through from Aramaic to Hebrew to Greek to Latin to English. What text could possibly have survived unchanged —especially when so many had a vested interest in the content? The many conspicuous contradictions are well known, even by Christians.
Therefore, it was almost unbelievable to learn that the Muslim sacred book, the Qur'an, was written down during Prophet Muhammad's lifetime, was checked numerous times by himself to ensure accuracy, and has remained exactly in the original language and text ever since. I was interested to read that when several thousand copies of the Qur'an were printed in Egypt with just one dumma (vowel mark) missing, they were immediately pulped. Why should a tiny dash make any difference? How did anyone spot it so quickly?
Being scientifically trained, I was interested in the scientific references of the Qur'an. These included meteorological, astronomical, physical, medical references and more. Many of these are tantalizingly subtle, for example [We made every living thing of water] (Al-Anbiyaa' 21:30). So far, no one has found any discrepancies; however, I still looked for one indisputable scientific fact that would clear up the issue: The size of the universe or the distance to the sun for example would do nicely. I could not find anything that specific, of course. Maybe that is the point: Humans always like evidence on a tray, clearly labeled.
Islamic Dogma?
I often felt Islam was dogmatic, loaded with tough restrictions and regulations. Was it all necessary? Can't we just go out and have a good time and do what we want? But upon closer examination, I saw that those who "suffer" most by such restrictions are the strongest of society. Who are these? The wealthy, young, healthy, usually male. Who are vulnerable? Women, the poor, the sick, the very young and the very old. All are strongly protected by Islamic Law, centuries before the welfare state was dreamed of. For example
Who drinks and enjoys alcohol the most? Men. However, who actually suffers most from alcoholism? Battered wives and abused children, not to mention the thousands killed or maimed by drunk drivers.
Who's restricted most by the prohibition of sexual promiscuity? A man can walk away from pregnancy. Women are biologically inclined to monogamy. So who pays the real price of promiscuity? The unwanted baby born to a single mother left to fend for herself.
Who benefits from the clothing restriction on women? Hardly the men. Women are protected and respected from predatory males, rape, and pregnancy.
Who enjoys and profits financially from pornography? Throughout history this has always been a male thing. Not many magazines seem to be owned or bought by women. It's well known that rapists and child abusers (men again, I'm afraid) are often driven and seduced by explicit pornography.
Who suffers by giving obligatory charity? The rich.
Who wants to care about the elderly in a society that worships youth? It's such a nuisance to hedonistic young people. Muslims are obliged to look after their parents and all the elderly. Again the weak are given security.
The list goes on.
It's clear that "harsh" Islamic rules actually protect the weak and those without a voice in society. It's not surprising, then, that the abhorrence against Islam, even from the very beginning at the time of Muhammad, came from the high and mighty of society. The entertainment moguls of Hollywood and elsewhere today see Islam as a severe threat to their profit margins. It's not so surprising, then, that the vast majority of those reverting to Islam are women. Also, I noticed that it was the under-trodden of society, such as the destitute Hindus of India and blacks in racist America, who feel that only Islam's ideals can address their problems.
Regarding women, I thought I had hit on the weak spot of Islam until I discovered that women enjoyed inheritance and divorce rights 1,400 years before the West discovered "Women's Lib." A wife even keeps her own name after marriage. Some of the richest people in the Muslim world are women. Contrary to my image of Muslim women being "oppressed," my personal observation was that women were not simply equal to men but in some ways held in a distinguished, almost reverential position in society. They didn't behave a bit oppressed. On the contrary, I personally cannot recall ever hearing a disparaging or sexist remark from a Muslim man regarding any woman.
Decision time
So what to do with this information? I had two choices: either to do nothing (which was tempting) or change my religion. Also I wanted to break with the Catholic Church which had lost credibility to me. I didn't want to forever be a lapsed Catholic. As far as I know, it's not possible to resign (what would I send back — my confirmation medal?). I mulled over the issue for a year or more before one spring Friday deciding to take the plunge. Now several years have passed and I have realized that far from being the end of the matter, the hard work had only just begun on that Friday. I look ahead with interest and some trepidation at the resurgence of Islam around the world — I wonder how the West will react to the inevitable rise of Islam in the next century: submit or feel threatened? Many vested interests will fight it, particularly the powerful entertainment lobbies. Whatever happens, Islam is not going to go away.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
A CHRISTIAN MINISTER’S CONVERSION TO ISLAM
© 2002 (Abu Yahya) Jerald F. Dirks, M.Div., Psy.D.
One of my earliest childhood memories is of hearing the church bell toll for Sunday morning worship in the small, rural town in which I was raised. The Methodist Church was an old, wooden structure with a bell tower, two children’s Sunday School classrooms cubbyholed behind folding, wooden doors to separate it from the sanctuary, and a choir loft that housed the Sunday school classrooms for the older children. It stood less than two blocks from my home. As the bell rang, we would come together as a family, and make our weekly pilgrimage to the church.
In that rural setting from the 1950s, the three churches in the town of about 500 were the center of community life. The local Methodist Church, to which my family belonged, sponsored ice cream socials with hand-cranked, homemade ice cream, chicken potpie dinners, and corn roasts. My family and I were always involved in all three, but each came only once a year. In addition, there was a two-week community Bible school every June, and I was a regular attendee through my eighth grade year in school. However, Sunday morning worship and Sunday school were weekly events, and I strove to keep extending my collection of perfect attendance pins and of awards for memorizing Bible verses.
By my junior high school days, the local Methodist Church had closed, and we were attending the Methodist Church in the neighbouring town, which was only slightly larger than the town in which I lived. There, my thoughts first began to focus on the ministry as a personal calling. I became active in the Methodist Youth Fellowship, and eventually served as both a district and a conference officer. I also became the regular “preacher” during the annual Youth Sunday service. My preaching began to draw community-wide attention, and before long I was occasionally filling pulpits at other churches, at a nursing home, and at various church-affiliated youth and ladies groups, where I typically set attendance records.
By age 17, when I began my freshman year at Harvard College, my decision to enter the ministry had solidified. During my freshman year, I enrolled in a two-semester course in comparative religion, which was taught by Wilfred Cantwell Smith, whose specific area of expertise was Islam. During that course, I gave far less attention to Islam, than I did to other religions, such as Hinduism and Buddhism, as the latter two seemed so much more esoteric and strange to me. In contrast, Islam appeared to be somewhat similar to my own Christianity. As such, I didn’t concentrate on it as much as I probably should have, although I can remember writing a term paper for the course on the concept of revelation in the Qur’an. Nonetheless, as the course was one of rigorous academic standards and demands, I did acquire a small library of about a half dozen books on Islam, all of which were written by non-Muslims, and all of which were to serve me in good stead 25 years later. I also acquired two different English translations of the meaning of the Qur’an, which I read at the time.
That spring, Harvard named me a Hollis Scholar, signifying that I was one of the top pre-theology students in the college. The summer between my freshman and sophomore years at Harvard, I worked as a youth minister at a fairly large United Methodist Church. The following summer, I obtained my License to Preach from the United Methodist Church. Upon graduating from Harvard College in 1971, I enrolled at the Harvard Divinity School, and there obtained my Master of Divinity degree in 1974, having been previously ordained into the Deaconate of the United Methodist Church in 1972, and having previously received a Stewart Scholarship from the United Methodist Church as a supplement to my Harvard Divinity School scholarships. During my seminary education, I also completed a two-year externship program as a hospital chaplain at Peter Bent Brigham Hospital in Boston. Following graduation from Harvard Divinity School, I spent the summer as the minister of two United Methodist churches in rural Kansas, where attendance soared to heights not seen in those churches for several years.
Seen from the outside, I was a very promising young minister, who had received an excellent education, drew large crowds to the Sunday morning worship service, and had been successful at every stop along the ministerial path. However, seen from the inside, I was fighting a constant war to maintain my personal integrity in the face of my ministerial responsibilities. This war was far removed from the ones presumably fought by some later televangelists in unsuccessfully trying to maintain personal sexual morality. Likewise, it was a far different war than those fought by the headline-grabbing paedophilic priests of the current moment. However, my struggle to maintain personal integrity may be the most common one encountered by the better-educated members of the ministry.
There is some irony in the fact that the supposedly best, brightest, and most idealistic of ministers-to-be are selected for the very best of seminary education, e.g. that offered at that time at the Harvard Divinity School. The irony is that, given such an education, the seminarian is exposed to as much of the actual historical truth as is known about: 1) the formation of the early, “mainstream” church, and how it was shaped by geopolitical considerations; 2) the “original” reading of various Biblical texts, many of which are in sharp contrast to what most Christians read when they pick up their Bible, although gradually some of this information is being incorporated into newer and better translations; 3) the evolution of such concepts as a triune godhead and the “sonship” of Jesus, peace be upon him; 4) the non-religious considerations that underlie many Christian creeds and doctrines; 5) the existence of those early churches and Christian movements which never accepted the concept of a triune godhead, and which never accepted the concept of the divinity of Jesus, peace be upon him; and 6) etc. (Some of these fruits of my seminary education are recounted in more detail in my recent book, The Cross and the Crescent: An Interfaith Dialogue between Christianity and Islam, Amana Publications, 2001.)
As such, it is no real wonder that almost a majority of such seminary graduates leave seminary, not to “fill pulpits”, where they would be asked to preach that which they know is not true, but to enter the various counselling professions. Such was also the case for me, as I went on to earn a master’s and doctorate in clinical psychology. I continued to call myself a Christian, because that was a needed bit of self-identity, and because I was, after all, an ordained minister, even though my full time job was as a mental health professional. However, my seminary education had taken care of any belief I might have had regarding a triune godhead or the divinity of Jesus, peace be upon him. (Polls regularly reveal that ministers are less likely to believe these and other dogmas of the church than are the laity they serve, with ministers more likely to understand such terms as “son of God” metaphorically, while their parishioners understand it literally.) I thus became a “Christmas and Easter Christian”, attending church very sporadically, and then gritting my teeth and biting my tongue as I listened to sermons espousing that which I knew was not the case.
None of the above should be taken to imply that I was any less religious or spiritually oriented than I had once been. I prayed regularly, my belief in a supreme deity remained solid and secure, and I conducted my personal life in line with the ethics I had once been taught in church and Sunday school. I simply knew better than to buy into the man-made dogmas and articles of faith of the organized church, which were so heavily laden with the pagan influences, polytheistic notions, and geo-political considerations of a bygone era.
As the years passed by, I became increasingly concerned about the loss of religiousness in American society at large. Religiousness is a living, breathing spirituality and morality within individuals, and should not be confused with religiosity, which is concerned with the rites, rituals, and formalized creeds of some organized entity, e.g. the church. American culture increasingly appeared to have lost its moral and religious compass. Two out of every three marriages ended in divorce; violence was becoming an increasingly inherent part of our schools and our roads; self-responsibility was on the wane; self-discipline was being submerged by a “if it feels good, do it” morality; various Christian leaders and institutions were being swamped by sexual and financial scandals; and emotions justified behaviour, however odious it might be. American culture was becoming a morally bankrupt institution, and I was feeling quite alone in my personal religious vigil.
It was at this juncture that I began to come into contact with the local Muslim community. For some years before, my wife and I had been actively involved in doing research on the history of the Arabian horse. Eventually, in order to secure translations of various Arabic documents, this research brought us into contact with Arab Americans who happened to be Muslims. Our first such contact was with Jamal in the summer of 1991.
After an initial telephone conversation, Jamal visited our home, and offered to do some translations for us, and to help guide us through the history of the Arabian horse in the Middle East. Before Jamal left that afternoon, he asked if he might: use our bathroom to wash before saying his scheduled prayers; and borrow a piece of newspaper to use as a prayer rug, so he could say his scheduled prayers before leaving our house. We, of course, obliged, but wondered if there was something more appropriate that we could give him to use than a newspaper. Without our ever realizing it at the time, Jamal was practicing a very beautiful form of Dawa (preaching or exhortation). He made no comment about the fact that we were not Muslims, and he didn’t preach anything to us about his religious beliefs. He “merely” presented us with his example, an example that spoke volumes, if one were willing to be receptive to the lesson.
Over the next 16 months, contact with Jamal slowly increased in frequency, until it was occurring on a biweekly to weekly basis. During these visits, Jamal never preached to me about Islam, never questioned me about my own religious beliefs or convictions, and never verbally suggested that I become a Muslim. However, I was beginning to learn a lot. First, there was the constant behavioural example of Jamal observing his scheduled prayers. Second, there was the behavioural example of how Jamal conducted his daily life in a highly moral and ethical manner, both in his business world and in his social world. Third, there was the behavioural example of how Jamal interacted with his two children. For my wife, Jamal’s wife provided a similar example. Fourth, always within the framework of helping me to understand Arabian horse history in the Middle East, Jamal began to share with me: 1) stories from Arab and Islamic history; 2) sayings of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him; and 3) Qur’anic verses and their contextual meaning. In point of fact, our every visit now included at least a 30 minute conversation cantered on some aspect of Islam, but always presented in terms of helping me intellectually understand the Islamic context of Arabian horse history. I was never told “this is the way things are”, I was merely told “this is what Muslims typically believe”. Since I wasn’t being “preached to”, and since Jamal never inquired as to my own beliefs, I didn’t need to bother attempting to justify my own position. It was all handled as an intellectual exercise, not as proselytising.
Gradually, Jamal began to introduce us to other Arab families in the local Muslim community. There was Wa’el and his family, Khalid and his family, and a few others. Consistently, I observed individuals and families who were living their lives on a much higher ethical plane than the American society in which we were all embedded. Maybe there was something to the practice of Islam that I had missed during my collegiate and seminary days.
By December, 1992, I was beginning to ask myself some serious questions about where I was and what I was doing. These questions were prompted by the following considerations. 1) Over the course of the prior 16 months, our social life had become increasingly centered on the Arab component of the local Muslim community. By December, probably 75% of our social life was being spent with Arab Muslims. 2) By virtue of my seminary training and education, I knew how badly the Bible had been corrupted (and often knew exactly when, where, and why), I had no belief in any triune godhead, and I had no belief in anything more than a metaphorical “sonship” of Jesus, peace be upon him. In short, while I certainly believed in God, I was as strict a monotheist as my Muslim friends. 3) My personal values and sense of morality were much more in keeping with my Muslim friends than with the “Christian” society around me. After all, I had the non-confrontational examples of Jamal, Khalid, and Wa’el as illustrations. In short, my nostalgic yearning for the type of community in which I had been raised was finding gratification in the Muslim community. American society might be morally bankrupt, but that did not appear to be the case for that part of the Muslim community with which I had had contact. Marriages were stable, spouses were committed to each other, and honesty, integrity, self-responsibility, and family values were emphasized. My wife and I had attempted to live our lives that same way, but for several years I had felt that we were doing so in the context of a moral vacuum. The Muslim community appeared to be different.
The different threads were being woven together into a single strand. Arabian horses, my childhood upbringing, my foray into the Christian ministry and my seminary education, my nostalgic yearnings for a moral society, and my contact with the Muslim community were becoming intricately intertwined. My self-questioning came to a head when I finally got around to asking myself exactly what separated me from the beliefs of my Muslim friends. I suppose that I could have raised that question with Jamal or with Khalid, but I wasn’t ready to take that step. I had never discussed my own religious beliefs with them, and I didn’t think that I wanted to introduce that topic of conversation into our friendship. As such, I began to pull off the bookshelf all the books on Islam that I had acquired in my collegiate and seminary days. However far my own beliefs were from the traditional position of the church, and however seldom I actually attended church, I still identified myself as being a Christian, and so I turned to the works of Western scholars. That month of December, I read half a dozen or so books on Islam by Western scholars, including one biography of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him. Further, I began to read two different English translations of the meaning of the Qur’an. I never spoke to my Muslim friends about this personal quest of self-discovery. I never mentioned what types of books I was reading, nor ever spoke about why I was reading these books. However, occasionally I would run a very circumscribed question past one of them.
While I never spoke to my Muslim friends about those books, my wife and I had numerous conversations about what I was reading. By the last week of December of 1992, I was forced to admit to myself, that I could find no area of substantial disagreement between my own religious beliefs and the general tenets of Islam. While I was ready to acknowledge that Muhammad, peace be upon him, was a prophet of (one who spoke for or under the inspiration of) God, and while I had absolutely no difficulty affirming that there was no god besides God/Allah, glorified and exalted is He, I was still hesitating to make any decision. I could readily admit to myself that I had far more in common with Islamic beliefs as I then understood them, than I did with the traditional Christianity of the organized church. I knew only too well that I could easily confirm from my seminary training and education most of what the Qur’an had to say about Christianity, the Bible, and Jesus, peace be upon him. Nonetheless, I hesitated. Further, I rationalized my hesitation by maintaining to myself that I really didn’t know the nitty-gritty details of Islam, and that my areas of agreement were confined to general concepts. As such, I continued to read, and then to re-read.
One’s sense of identity, of who one is, is a powerful affirmation of one’s own position in the cosmos. In my professional practice, I had occasionally been called upon to treat certain addictive disorders, ranging from smoking, to alcoholism, to drug abuse. As a clinician, I knew that the basic physical addiction had to be overcome to create the initial abstinence. That was the easy part of treatment. As Mark Twain once said: “Quitting smoking is easy; I’ve done it hundreds of times”. However, I also knew that the key to maintaining that abstinence over an extended time period was overcoming the client’s psychological addiction, which was heavily grounded in the client’s basic sense of identity, i.e. the client identified to himself that he was “a smoker”, or that he was “a drinker”, etc. The addictive behaviour had become part and parcel of the client’s basic sense of identity, of the client’s basic sense of self. Changing this sense of identity was crucial to the maintenance of the psychotherapeutic “cure”. This was the difficult part of treatment. Changing one’s basic sense of identity is a most difficult task. One’s psyche tends to cling to the old and familiar, which seem more psychologically comfortable and secure than the new and unfamiliar.
On a professional basis, I had the above knowledge, and used it on a daily basis. However, ironically enough, I was not yet ready to apply it to myself, and to the issue of my own hesitation surrounding my religious identity. For 43 years, my religious identity had been neatly labeled as “Christian”, however many qualifications I might have added to that term over the years. Giving up that label of personal identity was no easy task. It was part and parcel of how I defined my very being. Given the benefit of hindsight, it is clear that my hesitation served the purpose of insuring that I could keep my familiar religious identity of being a Christian, although a Christian who believed like a Muslim believed.
It was now the very end of December, and my wife and I were filling out our application forms for U.S. passports, so that a proposed Middle Eastern journey could become a reality. One of the questions had to do with religious affiliation. I didn’t even think about it, and automatically fell back on the old and familiar, as I penned in “Christian”. It was easy, it was familiar, and it was comfortable.
However, that comfort was momentarily disrupted when my wife asked me how I had answered the question on religious identity on the application form. I immediately replied, “Christian”, and chuckled audibly. Now, one of Freud’s contributions to the understanding of the human psyche was his realization that laughter is often a release of psychological tension. However wrong Freud may have been in many aspects of his theory of psychosexual development, his insights into laughter were quite on target. I had laughed! What was this psychological tension that I had need to release through the medium of laughter?
I then hurriedly went on to offer my wife a brief affirmation that I was a Christian, not a Muslim. In response to which, she politely informed me that she was merely asking whether I had written “Christian”, or “Protestant”, or “Methodist”. On a professional basis, I knew that a person does not defend himself against an accusation that hasn’t been made. (If, in the course of a session of psychotherapy, my client blurted out, “I’m not angry about that”, and I hadn’t even broached the topic of anger, it was clear that my client was feeling the need to defend himself against a charge that his own unconscious was making. In short, he really was angry, but he wasn’t ready to admit it or to deal with it.) If my wife hadn’t made the accusation, i.e. “you are a Muslim”, then the accusation had to have come from my own unconscious, as I was the only other person present. I was aware of this, but still I hesitated. The religious label that had been stuck to my sense of identity for 43 years was not going to come off easily.
About a month had gone by since my wife’s question to me. It was now late in January of 1993. I had set aside all the books on Islam by the Western scholars, as I had read them all thoroughly. The two English translations of the meaning of the Qur’an were back on the bookshelf, and I was busy reading yet a third English translation of the meaning of the Qur’an. Maybe in this translation I would find some sudden justification for…
I was taking my lunch hour from my private practice at a local Arab restaurant that I had started to frequent. I entered as usual, seated myself at a small table, and opened my third English translation of the meaning of the Qur’an to where I had left off in my reading. I figured I might as well get some reading done over my lunch hour. Moments later, I became aware that Mahmoud was at my shoulder, and waiting to take my order. He glanced at what I was reading, but said nothing about it. My order taken, I returned to the solitude of my reading.
A few minutes later, Mahmoud’s wife, Iman, an American Muslim, who wore the Hijab (scarf) and modest dress that I had come to associate with female Muslims, brought me my order. She commented that I was reading the Qur’an, and politely asked if I were a Muslim. The word was out of my mouth before it could be modified by any social etiquette or politeness: “No!” That single word was said forcefully, and with more than a hint of irritability. With that, Iman politely retired from my table.
What was happening to me? I had behaved rudely and somewhat aggressively. What had this woman done to deserve such behaviour from me? This wasn’t like me. Given my childhood upbringing, I still used “sir” and “ma’am” when addressing clerks and cashiers who were waiting on me in stores. I could pretend to ignore my own laughter as a release of tension, but I couldn’t begin to ignore this sort of unconscionable behaviour from myself. My reading was set aside, and I mentally stewed over this turn of events throughout my meal. The more I stewed, the guiltier I felt about my behaviour. I knew that when Iman brought me my check at the end of the meal, I was going to need to make some amends. If for no other reason, simple politeness demanded it. Furthermore, I was really quite disturbed about how resistant I had been to her innocuous question. What was going on in me that I responded with that much force to such a simple and straightforward question? Why did that one, simple question lead to such atypical behaviour on my part?
Later, when Iman came with my check, I attempted a round-about apology by saying: “I’m afraid I was a little abrupt in answering your question before. If you were asking me whether I believe that there is only one God, then my answer is yes. If you were asking me whether I believe that Muhammad was one of the prophets of that one God, then my answer is yes.” She very nicely and very supportively said: “That’s okay; it takes some people a little longer than others.”
Perhaps, the readers of this will be kind enough to note the psychological games I was playing with myself without chuckling too hard at my mental gymnastics and behaviour. I well knew that in my own way, using my own words, I had just said the Shahadah, the Islamic testimonial of faith, i.e. “I testify that there is no god but Allah, and I testify that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah”. However, having said that, and having recognized what I said, I could still cling to my old and familiar label of religious identity. After all, I hadn’t said I was a Muslim. I was simply a Christian, albeit an atypical Christian, who was willing to say that there was one God, not a triune godhead, and who was willing to say that Muhammad was one of the prophets inspired by that one God. If a Muslim wanted to accept me as being a Muslim that was his or her business, and his or her label of religious identity. However, it was not mine. I thought I had found my way out of my crisis of religious identity. I was a Christian, who would carefully explain that I agreed with, and was willing to testify to, the Islamic testimonial of faith. Having made my tortured explanation, and having parsed the English language to within an inch of its life, others could hang whatever label on me they wished. It was their label, and not mine.
It was now March of 1993, and my wife and I were enjoying a five-week vacation in the Middle East. It was also the Islamic month of Ramadan, when Muslims fast from day break until sunset. Because we were so often staying with or being escorted around by family members of our Muslim friends back in the States, my wife and I had decided that we also would fast, if for no other reason than common courtesy. During this time, I had also started to perform the five daily prayers of Islam with my newfound, Middle Eastern, Muslim friends. After all, there was nothing in those prayers with which I could disagree.
I was a Christian, or so I said. After all, I had been born into a Christian family, had been given a Christian upbringing, had attended church and Sunday school every Sunday as a child, had graduated from a prestigious seminary, and was an ordained minister in a large Protestant denomination. However, I was also a Christian: who didn’t believe in a triune godhead or in the divinity of Jesus, peace be upon him; who knew quite well how the Bible had been corrupted; who had said the Islamic testimony of faith in my own carefully parsed words; who had fasted during Ramadan; who was saying Islamic prayers five times a day; and who was deeply impressed by the behavioural examples I had witnessed in the Muslim community, both in America and in the Middle East. (Time and space do not permit me the luxury of documenting in detail all of the examples of personal morality and ethics I encountered in the Middle East.) If asked if I were a Muslim, I could and did do a five-minute monologue detailing the above, and basically leaving the question unanswered. I was playing intellectual word games, and succeeding at them quite nicely.
It was now late in our Middle Eastern trip. An elderly friend who spoke no English and I were walking down a winding, little road, somewhere in one of the economically disadvantaged areas of greater ‘Amman, Jordan. As we walked, an elderly man approached us from the opposite direction, said, “Salam ‘Alaykum”, i.e., “peace be upon you”, and offered to shake hands. We were the only three people there. I didn’t speak Arabic, and neither my friend nor the stranger spoke English. Looking at me, the stranger asked, “Muslim?”
At that precise moment in time, I was fully and completely trapped. There were no intellectual word games to be played, because I could only communicate in English, and they could only communicate in Arabic. There was no translator present to bail me out of this situation, and to allow me to hide behind my carefully prepared English monologue. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t understand the question, because it was all too obvious that I had. My choices were suddenly, unpredictably, and inexplicably reduced to just two: I could say “N’am”, i.e., “yes”; or I could say “La”, i.e., “no”. The choice was mine, and I had no other. I had to choose, and I had to choose now; it was just that simple. Praise be to Allah, I answered, “N’am”.
With saying that one word, all the intellectual word games were now behind me. With the intellectual word games behind me, the psychological games regarding my religious identity were also behind me. I wasn’t some strange, atypical Christian. I was a Muslim. Praise be to Allah, my wife of 33 years also became a Muslim about that same time.
Not too many months after our return to America from the Middle East, a neighbour invited us over to his house, saying that he wanted to talk with us about our conversion to Islam. He was a retired Methodist minister, with whom I had had several conversations in the past. Although we had occasionally talked superficially about such issues as the artificial construction of the Bible from various, earlier, independent sources, we had never had any in-depth conversation about religion. I knew only that he appeared to have acquired a solid seminary education, and that he sang in the local church choir every Sunday.
My initial reaction was, “Oh, oh, here it comes”. Nonetheless, it is a Muslim’s duty to be a good neighbour, and it is a Muslim’s duty to be willing to discuss Islam with others. As such, I accepted the invitation for the following evening, and spent most of the waking part of the next 24 hours contemplating how best to approach this gentleman in his requested topic of conversation. The appointed time came, and we drove over to our neighbour's. After a few moments of small talk, he finally asked why I had decided to become a Muslim. I had waited for this question, and had my answer carefully prepared. “As you know with your seminary education, there were a lot of non-religious considerations which led up to and shaped the decisions of the Council of Nicaea.” He immediately cut me off with a simple statement: “You finally couldn’t stomach the polytheism anymore, could you?” He knew exactly why I was a Muslim, and he didn’t disagree with my decision! For himself, at his age and at his place in life, he was electing to be “an atypical Christian”. Allah willing, he has by now completed his journey from cross to crescent.
There are sacrifices to be made in being a Muslim in America. For that matter, there are sacrifices to be made in being a Muslim anywhere. However, those sacrifices may be more acutely felt in America, especially among American converts. Some of those sacrifices are very predictable, and include altered dress and abstinence from alcohol, pork, and the taking of interest on one’s money. Some of those sacrifices are less predictable. For example, one Christian family, with whom we were close friends, informed us that they could no longer associate with us, as they could not associate with anyone “who does not take Jesus Christ as his personal savoir”. In addition, quite a few of my professional colleagues altered their manner of relating to me. Whether it was coincidence or not, my professional referral base dwindled, and there was almost a 30% drop in income as a result. Some of these less predictable sacrifices were hard to accept, although the sacrifices were a small price to pay for what was received in return.
For those contemplating the acceptance of Islam and the surrendering of oneself to Allah—glorified and exalted is He, there may well be sacrifices along the way. Many of these sacrifices are easily predicted, while others may be rather surprising and unexpected. There is no denying the existence of these sacrifices, and I don’t intend to sugar coat that pill for you. Nonetheless, don’t be overly troubled by these sacrifices. In the final analysis, these sacrifices are less important than you presently think. Allah willing, you will find these sacrifices a very cheap coin to pay for the “goods” you are purchasing.
One of my earliest childhood memories is of hearing the church bell toll for Sunday morning worship in the small, rural town in which I was raised. The Methodist Church was an old, wooden structure with a bell tower, two children’s Sunday School classrooms cubbyholed behind folding, wooden doors to separate it from the sanctuary, and a choir loft that housed the Sunday school classrooms for the older children. It stood less than two blocks from my home. As the bell rang, we would come together as a family, and make our weekly pilgrimage to the church.
In that rural setting from the 1950s, the three churches in the town of about 500 were the center of community life. The local Methodist Church, to which my family belonged, sponsored ice cream socials with hand-cranked, homemade ice cream, chicken potpie dinners, and corn roasts. My family and I were always involved in all three, but each came only once a year. In addition, there was a two-week community Bible school every June, and I was a regular attendee through my eighth grade year in school. However, Sunday morning worship and Sunday school were weekly events, and I strove to keep extending my collection of perfect attendance pins and of awards for memorizing Bible verses.
By my junior high school days, the local Methodist Church had closed, and we were attending the Methodist Church in the neighbouring town, which was only slightly larger than the town in which I lived. There, my thoughts first began to focus on the ministry as a personal calling. I became active in the Methodist Youth Fellowship, and eventually served as both a district and a conference officer. I also became the regular “preacher” during the annual Youth Sunday service. My preaching began to draw community-wide attention, and before long I was occasionally filling pulpits at other churches, at a nursing home, and at various church-affiliated youth and ladies groups, where I typically set attendance records.
By age 17, when I began my freshman year at Harvard College, my decision to enter the ministry had solidified. During my freshman year, I enrolled in a two-semester course in comparative religion, which was taught by Wilfred Cantwell Smith, whose specific area of expertise was Islam. During that course, I gave far less attention to Islam, than I did to other religions, such as Hinduism and Buddhism, as the latter two seemed so much more esoteric and strange to me. In contrast, Islam appeared to be somewhat similar to my own Christianity. As such, I didn’t concentrate on it as much as I probably should have, although I can remember writing a term paper for the course on the concept of revelation in the Qur’an. Nonetheless, as the course was one of rigorous academic standards and demands, I did acquire a small library of about a half dozen books on Islam, all of which were written by non-Muslims, and all of which were to serve me in good stead 25 years later. I also acquired two different English translations of the meaning of the Qur’an, which I read at the time.
That spring, Harvard named me a Hollis Scholar, signifying that I was one of the top pre-theology students in the college. The summer between my freshman and sophomore years at Harvard, I worked as a youth minister at a fairly large United Methodist Church. The following summer, I obtained my License to Preach from the United Methodist Church. Upon graduating from Harvard College in 1971, I enrolled at the Harvard Divinity School, and there obtained my Master of Divinity degree in 1974, having been previously ordained into the Deaconate of the United Methodist Church in 1972, and having previously received a Stewart Scholarship from the United Methodist Church as a supplement to my Harvard Divinity School scholarships. During my seminary education, I also completed a two-year externship program as a hospital chaplain at Peter Bent Brigham Hospital in Boston. Following graduation from Harvard Divinity School, I spent the summer as the minister of two United Methodist churches in rural Kansas, where attendance soared to heights not seen in those churches for several years.
Seen from the outside, I was a very promising young minister, who had received an excellent education, drew large crowds to the Sunday morning worship service, and had been successful at every stop along the ministerial path. However, seen from the inside, I was fighting a constant war to maintain my personal integrity in the face of my ministerial responsibilities. This war was far removed from the ones presumably fought by some later televangelists in unsuccessfully trying to maintain personal sexual morality. Likewise, it was a far different war than those fought by the headline-grabbing paedophilic priests of the current moment. However, my struggle to maintain personal integrity may be the most common one encountered by the better-educated members of the ministry.
There is some irony in the fact that the supposedly best, brightest, and most idealistic of ministers-to-be are selected for the very best of seminary education, e.g. that offered at that time at the Harvard Divinity School. The irony is that, given such an education, the seminarian is exposed to as much of the actual historical truth as is known about: 1) the formation of the early, “mainstream” church, and how it was shaped by geopolitical considerations; 2) the “original” reading of various Biblical texts, many of which are in sharp contrast to what most Christians read when they pick up their Bible, although gradually some of this information is being incorporated into newer and better translations; 3) the evolution of such concepts as a triune godhead and the “sonship” of Jesus, peace be upon him; 4) the non-religious considerations that underlie many Christian creeds and doctrines; 5) the existence of those early churches and Christian movements which never accepted the concept of a triune godhead, and which never accepted the concept of the divinity of Jesus, peace be upon him; and 6) etc. (Some of these fruits of my seminary education are recounted in more detail in my recent book, The Cross and the Crescent: An Interfaith Dialogue between Christianity and Islam, Amana Publications, 2001.)
As such, it is no real wonder that almost a majority of such seminary graduates leave seminary, not to “fill pulpits”, where they would be asked to preach that which they know is not true, but to enter the various counselling professions. Such was also the case for me, as I went on to earn a master’s and doctorate in clinical psychology. I continued to call myself a Christian, because that was a needed bit of self-identity, and because I was, after all, an ordained minister, even though my full time job was as a mental health professional. However, my seminary education had taken care of any belief I might have had regarding a triune godhead or the divinity of Jesus, peace be upon him. (Polls regularly reveal that ministers are less likely to believe these and other dogmas of the church than are the laity they serve, with ministers more likely to understand such terms as “son of God” metaphorically, while their parishioners understand it literally.) I thus became a “Christmas and Easter Christian”, attending church very sporadically, and then gritting my teeth and biting my tongue as I listened to sermons espousing that which I knew was not the case.
None of the above should be taken to imply that I was any less religious or spiritually oriented than I had once been. I prayed regularly, my belief in a supreme deity remained solid and secure, and I conducted my personal life in line with the ethics I had once been taught in church and Sunday school. I simply knew better than to buy into the man-made dogmas and articles of faith of the organized church, which were so heavily laden with the pagan influences, polytheistic notions, and geo-political considerations of a bygone era.
As the years passed by, I became increasingly concerned about the loss of religiousness in American society at large. Religiousness is a living, breathing spirituality and morality within individuals, and should not be confused with religiosity, which is concerned with the rites, rituals, and formalized creeds of some organized entity, e.g. the church. American culture increasingly appeared to have lost its moral and religious compass. Two out of every three marriages ended in divorce; violence was becoming an increasingly inherent part of our schools and our roads; self-responsibility was on the wane; self-discipline was being submerged by a “if it feels good, do it” morality; various Christian leaders and institutions were being swamped by sexual and financial scandals; and emotions justified behaviour, however odious it might be. American culture was becoming a morally bankrupt institution, and I was feeling quite alone in my personal religious vigil.
It was at this juncture that I began to come into contact with the local Muslim community. For some years before, my wife and I had been actively involved in doing research on the history of the Arabian horse. Eventually, in order to secure translations of various Arabic documents, this research brought us into contact with Arab Americans who happened to be Muslims. Our first such contact was with Jamal in the summer of 1991.
After an initial telephone conversation, Jamal visited our home, and offered to do some translations for us, and to help guide us through the history of the Arabian horse in the Middle East. Before Jamal left that afternoon, he asked if he might: use our bathroom to wash before saying his scheduled prayers; and borrow a piece of newspaper to use as a prayer rug, so he could say his scheduled prayers before leaving our house. We, of course, obliged, but wondered if there was something more appropriate that we could give him to use than a newspaper. Without our ever realizing it at the time, Jamal was practicing a very beautiful form of Dawa (preaching or exhortation). He made no comment about the fact that we were not Muslims, and he didn’t preach anything to us about his religious beliefs. He “merely” presented us with his example, an example that spoke volumes, if one were willing to be receptive to the lesson.
Over the next 16 months, contact with Jamal slowly increased in frequency, until it was occurring on a biweekly to weekly basis. During these visits, Jamal never preached to me about Islam, never questioned me about my own religious beliefs or convictions, and never verbally suggested that I become a Muslim. However, I was beginning to learn a lot. First, there was the constant behavioural example of Jamal observing his scheduled prayers. Second, there was the behavioural example of how Jamal conducted his daily life in a highly moral and ethical manner, both in his business world and in his social world. Third, there was the behavioural example of how Jamal interacted with his two children. For my wife, Jamal’s wife provided a similar example. Fourth, always within the framework of helping me to understand Arabian horse history in the Middle East, Jamal began to share with me: 1) stories from Arab and Islamic history; 2) sayings of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him; and 3) Qur’anic verses and their contextual meaning. In point of fact, our every visit now included at least a 30 minute conversation cantered on some aspect of Islam, but always presented in terms of helping me intellectually understand the Islamic context of Arabian horse history. I was never told “this is the way things are”, I was merely told “this is what Muslims typically believe”. Since I wasn’t being “preached to”, and since Jamal never inquired as to my own beliefs, I didn’t need to bother attempting to justify my own position. It was all handled as an intellectual exercise, not as proselytising.
Gradually, Jamal began to introduce us to other Arab families in the local Muslim community. There was Wa’el and his family, Khalid and his family, and a few others. Consistently, I observed individuals and families who were living their lives on a much higher ethical plane than the American society in which we were all embedded. Maybe there was something to the practice of Islam that I had missed during my collegiate and seminary days.
By December, 1992, I was beginning to ask myself some serious questions about where I was and what I was doing. These questions were prompted by the following considerations. 1) Over the course of the prior 16 months, our social life had become increasingly centered on the Arab component of the local Muslim community. By December, probably 75% of our social life was being spent with Arab Muslims. 2) By virtue of my seminary training and education, I knew how badly the Bible had been corrupted (and often knew exactly when, where, and why), I had no belief in any triune godhead, and I had no belief in anything more than a metaphorical “sonship” of Jesus, peace be upon him. In short, while I certainly believed in God, I was as strict a monotheist as my Muslim friends. 3) My personal values and sense of morality were much more in keeping with my Muslim friends than with the “Christian” society around me. After all, I had the non-confrontational examples of Jamal, Khalid, and Wa’el as illustrations. In short, my nostalgic yearning for the type of community in which I had been raised was finding gratification in the Muslim community. American society might be morally bankrupt, but that did not appear to be the case for that part of the Muslim community with which I had had contact. Marriages were stable, spouses were committed to each other, and honesty, integrity, self-responsibility, and family values were emphasized. My wife and I had attempted to live our lives that same way, but for several years I had felt that we were doing so in the context of a moral vacuum. The Muslim community appeared to be different.
The different threads were being woven together into a single strand. Arabian horses, my childhood upbringing, my foray into the Christian ministry and my seminary education, my nostalgic yearnings for a moral society, and my contact with the Muslim community were becoming intricately intertwined. My self-questioning came to a head when I finally got around to asking myself exactly what separated me from the beliefs of my Muslim friends. I suppose that I could have raised that question with Jamal or with Khalid, but I wasn’t ready to take that step. I had never discussed my own religious beliefs with them, and I didn’t think that I wanted to introduce that topic of conversation into our friendship. As such, I began to pull off the bookshelf all the books on Islam that I had acquired in my collegiate and seminary days. However far my own beliefs were from the traditional position of the church, and however seldom I actually attended church, I still identified myself as being a Christian, and so I turned to the works of Western scholars. That month of December, I read half a dozen or so books on Islam by Western scholars, including one biography of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him. Further, I began to read two different English translations of the meaning of the Qur’an. I never spoke to my Muslim friends about this personal quest of self-discovery. I never mentioned what types of books I was reading, nor ever spoke about why I was reading these books. However, occasionally I would run a very circumscribed question past one of them.
While I never spoke to my Muslim friends about those books, my wife and I had numerous conversations about what I was reading. By the last week of December of 1992, I was forced to admit to myself, that I could find no area of substantial disagreement between my own religious beliefs and the general tenets of Islam. While I was ready to acknowledge that Muhammad, peace be upon him, was a prophet of (one who spoke for or under the inspiration of) God, and while I had absolutely no difficulty affirming that there was no god besides God/Allah, glorified and exalted is He, I was still hesitating to make any decision. I could readily admit to myself that I had far more in common with Islamic beliefs as I then understood them, than I did with the traditional Christianity of the organized church. I knew only too well that I could easily confirm from my seminary training and education most of what the Qur’an had to say about Christianity, the Bible, and Jesus, peace be upon him. Nonetheless, I hesitated. Further, I rationalized my hesitation by maintaining to myself that I really didn’t know the nitty-gritty details of Islam, and that my areas of agreement were confined to general concepts. As such, I continued to read, and then to re-read.
One’s sense of identity, of who one is, is a powerful affirmation of one’s own position in the cosmos. In my professional practice, I had occasionally been called upon to treat certain addictive disorders, ranging from smoking, to alcoholism, to drug abuse. As a clinician, I knew that the basic physical addiction had to be overcome to create the initial abstinence. That was the easy part of treatment. As Mark Twain once said: “Quitting smoking is easy; I’ve done it hundreds of times”. However, I also knew that the key to maintaining that abstinence over an extended time period was overcoming the client’s psychological addiction, which was heavily grounded in the client’s basic sense of identity, i.e. the client identified to himself that he was “a smoker”, or that he was “a drinker”, etc. The addictive behaviour had become part and parcel of the client’s basic sense of identity, of the client’s basic sense of self. Changing this sense of identity was crucial to the maintenance of the psychotherapeutic “cure”. This was the difficult part of treatment. Changing one’s basic sense of identity is a most difficult task. One’s psyche tends to cling to the old and familiar, which seem more psychologically comfortable and secure than the new and unfamiliar.
On a professional basis, I had the above knowledge, and used it on a daily basis. However, ironically enough, I was not yet ready to apply it to myself, and to the issue of my own hesitation surrounding my religious identity. For 43 years, my religious identity had been neatly labeled as “Christian”, however many qualifications I might have added to that term over the years. Giving up that label of personal identity was no easy task. It was part and parcel of how I defined my very being. Given the benefit of hindsight, it is clear that my hesitation served the purpose of insuring that I could keep my familiar religious identity of being a Christian, although a Christian who believed like a Muslim believed.
It was now the very end of December, and my wife and I were filling out our application forms for U.S. passports, so that a proposed Middle Eastern journey could become a reality. One of the questions had to do with religious affiliation. I didn’t even think about it, and automatically fell back on the old and familiar, as I penned in “Christian”. It was easy, it was familiar, and it was comfortable.
However, that comfort was momentarily disrupted when my wife asked me how I had answered the question on religious identity on the application form. I immediately replied, “Christian”, and chuckled audibly. Now, one of Freud’s contributions to the understanding of the human psyche was his realization that laughter is often a release of psychological tension. However wrong Freud may have been in many aspects of his theory of psychosexual development, his insights into laughter were quite on target. I had laughed! What was this psychological tension that I had need to release through the medium of laughter?
I then hurriedly went on to offer my wife a brief affirmation that I was a Christian, not a Muslim. In response to which, she politely informed me that she was merely asking whether I had written “Christian”, or “Protestant”, or “Methodist”. On a professional basis, I knew that a person does not defend himself against an accusation that hasn’t been made. (If, in the course of a session of psychotherapy, my client blurted out, “I’m not angry about that”, and I hadn’t even broached the topic of anger, it was clear that my client was feeling the need to defend himself against a charge that his own unconscious was making. In short, he really was angry, but he wasn’t ready to admit it or to deal with it.) If my wife hadn’t made the accusation, i.e. “you are a Muslim”, then the accusation had to have come from my own unconscious, as I was the only other person present. I was aware of this, but still I hesitated. The religious label that had been stuck to my sense of identity for 43 years was not going to come off easily.
About a month had gone by since my wife’s question to me. It was now late in January of 1993. I had set aside all the books on Islam by the Western scholars, as I had read them all thoroughly. The two English translations of the meaning of the Qur’an were back on the bookshelf, and I was busy reading yet a third English translation of the meaning of the Qur’an. Maybe in this translation I would find some sudden justification for…
I was taking my lunch hour from my private practice at a local Arab restaurant that I had started to frequent. I entered as usual, seated myself at a small table, and opened my third English translation of the meaning of the Qur’an to where I had left off in my reading. I figured I might as well get some reading done over my lunch hour. Moments later, I became aware that Mahmoud was at my shoulder, and waiting to take my order. He glanced at what I was reading, but said nothing about it. My order taken, I returned to the solitude of my reading.
A few minutes later, Mahmoud’s wife, Iman, an American Muslim, who wore the Hijab (scarf) and modest dress that I had come to associate with female Muslims, brought me my order. She commented that I was reading the Qur’an, and politely asked if I were a Muslim. The word was out of my mouth before it could be modified by any social etiquette or politeness: “No!” That single word was said forcefully, and with more than a hint of irritability. With that, Iman politely retired from my table.
What was happening to me? I had behaved rudely and somewhat aggressively. What had this woman done to deserve such behaviour from me? This wasn’t like me. Given my childhood upbringing, I still used “sir” and “ma’am” when addressing clerks and cashiers who were waiting on me in stores. I could pretend to ignore my own laughter as a release of tension, but I couldn’t begin to ignore this sort of unconscionable behaviour from myself. My reading was set aside, and I mentally stewed over this turn of events throughout my meal. The more I stewed, the guiltier I felt about my behaviour. I knew that when Iman brought me my check at the end of the meal, I was going to need to make some amends. If for no other reason, simple politeness demanded it. Furthermore, I was really quite disturbed about how resistant I had been to her innocuous question. What was going on in me that I responded with that much force to such a simple and straightforward question? Why did that one, simple question lead to such atypical behaviour on my part?
Later, when Iman came with my check, I attempted a round-about apology by saying: “I’m afraid I was a little abrupt in answering your question before. If you were asking me whether I believe that there is only one God, then my answer is yes. If you were asking me whether I believe that Muhammad was one of the prophets of that one God, then my answer is yes.” She very nicely and very supportively said: “That’s okay; it takes some people a little longer than others.”
Perhaps, the readers of this will be kind enough to note the psychological games I was playing with myself without chuckling too hard at my mental gymnastics and behaviour. I well knew that in my own way, using my own words, I had just said the Shahadah, the Islamic testimonial of faith, i.e. “I testify that there is no god but Allah, and I testify that Muhammad is the messenger of Allah”. However, having said that, and having recognized what I said, I could still cling to my old and familiar label of religious identity. After all, I hadn’t said I was a Muslim. I was simply a Christian, albeit an atypical Christian, who was willing to say that there was one God, not a triune godhead, and who was willing to say that Muhammad was one of the prophets inspired by that one God. If a Muslim wanted to accept me as being a Muslim that was his or her business, and his or her label of religious identity. However, it was not mine. I thought I had found my way out of my crisis of religious identity. I was a Christian, who would carefully explain that I agreed with, and was willing to testify to, the Islamic testimonial of faith. Having made my tortured explanation, and having parsed the English language to within an inch of its life, others could hang whatever label on me they wished. It was their label, and not mine.
It was now March of 1993, and my wife and I were enjoying a five-week vacation in the Middle East. It was also the Islamic month of Ramadan, when Muslims fast from day break until sunset. Because we were so often staying with or being escorted around by family members of our Muslim friends back in the States, my wife and I had decided that we also would fast, if for no other reason than common courtesy. During this time, I had also started to perform the five daily prayers of Islam with my newfound, Middle Eastern, Muslim friends. After all, there was nothing in those prayers with which I could disagree.
I was a Christian, or so I said. After all, I had been born into a Christian family, had been given a Christian upbringing, had attended church and Sunday school every Sunday as a child, had graduated from a prestigious seminary, and was an ordained minister in a large Protestant denomination. However, I was also a Christian: who didn’t believe in a triune godhead or in the divinity of Jesus, peace be upon him; who knew quite well how the Bible had been corrupted; who had said the Islamic testimony of faith in my own carefully parsed words; who had fasted during Ramadan; who was saying Islamic prayers five times a day; and who was deeply impressed by the behavioural examples I had witnessed in the Muslim community, both in America and in the Middle East. (Time and space do not permit me the luxury of documenting in detail all of the examples of personal morality and ethics I encountered in the Middle East.) If asked if I were a Muslim, I could and did do a five-minute monologue detailing the above, and basically leaving the question unanswered. I was playing intellectual word games, and succeeding at them quite nicely.
It was now late in our Middle Eastern trip. An elderly friend who spoke no English and I were walking down a winding, little road, somewhere in one of the economically disadvantaged areas of greater ‘Amman, Jordan. As we walked, an elderly man approached us from the opposite direction, said, “Salam ‘Alaykum”, i.e., “peace be upon you”, and offered to shake hands. We were the only three people there. I didn’t speak Arabic, and neither my friend nor the stranger spoke English. Looking at me, the stranger asked, “Muslim?”
At that precise moment in time, I was fully and completely trapped. There were no intellectual word games to be played, because I could only communicate in English, and they could only communicate in Arabic. There was no translator present to bail me out of this situation, and to allow me to hide behind my carefully prepared English monologue. I couldn’t pretend I didn’t understand the question, because it was all too obvious that I had. My choices were suddenly, unpredictably, and inexplicably reduced to just two: I could say “N’am”, i.e., “yes”; or I could say “La”, i.e., “no”. The choice was mine, and I had no other. I had to choose, and I had to choose now; it was just that simple. Praise be to Allah, I answered, “N’am”.
With saying that one word, all the intellectual word games were now behind me. With the intellectual word games behind me, the psychological games regarding my religious identity were also behind me. I wasn’t some strange, atypical Christian. I was a Muslim. Praise be to Allah, my wife of 33 years also became a Muslim about that same time.
Not too many months after our return to America from the Middle East, a neighbour invited us over to his house, saying that he wanted to talk with us about our conversion to Islam. He was a retired Methodist minister, with whom I had had several conversations in the past. Although we had occasionally talked superficially about such issues as the artificial construction of the Bible from various, earlier, independent sources, we had never had any in-depth conversation about religion. I knew only that he appeared to have acquired a solid seminary education, and that he sang in the local church choir every Sunday.
My initial reaction was, “Oh, oh, here it comes”. Nonetheless, it is a Muslim’s duty to be a good neighbour, and it is a Muslim’s duty to be willing to discuss Islam with others. As such, I accepted the invitation for the following evening, and spent most of the waking part of the next 24 hours contemplating how best to approach this gentleman in his requested topic of conversation. The appointed time came, and we drove over to our neighbour's. After a few moments of small talk, he finally asked why I had decided to become a Muslim. I had waited for this question, and had my answer carefully prepared. “As you know with your seminary education, there were a lot of non-religious considerations which led up to and shaped the decisions of the Council of Nicaea.” He immediately cut me off with a simple statement: “You finally couldn’t stomach the polytheism anymore, could you?” He knew exactly why I was a Muslim, and he didn’t disagree with my decision! For himself, at his age and at his place in life, he was electing to be “an atypical Christian”. Allah willing, he has by now completed his journey from cross to crescent.
There are sacrifices to be made in being a Muslim in America. For that matter, there are sacrifices to be made in being a Muslim anywhere. However, those sacrifices may be more acutely felt in America, especially among American converts. Some of those sacrifices are very predictable, and include altered dress and abstinence from alcohol, pork, and the taking of interest on one’s money. Some of those sacrifices are less predictable. For example, one Christian family, with whom we were close friends, informed us that they could no longer associate with us, as they could not associate with anyone “who does not take Jesus Christ as his personal savoir”. In addition, quite a few of my professional colleagues altered their manner of relating to me. Whether it was coincidence or not, my professional referral base dwindled, and there was almost a 30% drop in income as a result. Some of these less predictable sacrifices were hard to accept, although the sacrifices were a small price to pay for what was received in return.
For those contemplating the acceptance of Islam and the surrendering of oneself to Allah—glorified and exalted is He, there may well be sacrifices along the way. Many of these sacrifices are easily predicted, while others may be rather surprising and unexpected. There is no denying the existence of these sacrifices, and I don’t intend to sugar coat that pill for you. Nonetheless, don’t be overly troubled by these sacrifices. In the final analysis, these sacrifices are less important than you presently think. Allah willing, you will find these sacrifices a very cheap coin to pay for the “goods” you are purchasing.
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