Unitarian Universalist Meeting of South Berkshire
January 6, 2008
“Islam’s Journey of Love”
Rev. Kathy Duhon
In theological school, I had a professor who had lived in the Middle East for a time, while doing his groundbreaking work studying the Biblical Prophets, and he spoke with great warmth about Muslims and Islam. He tried to explain the center of their religion to us, using analogies with Christianity and Judaism, but I admit that I was skeptical. What I had studied previously, and heard about Islam, was not so attractive. Their image has declined further since then, with folks as different as the leading atheist Sam Harris and the powerful fundamentalist Jerry Falwell having made strong criticisms of Islam as a backwards and terrorist religion.
At the end of my theological training, my intern minister supervisor, a Unitarian Universalist Humanist who sat on the Planned Parenthood board, professed his admiration for Islam. I was floored. He had spent his sabbatical in the Middle East, and had great enthusiasm for the folks he had met. He started praising Islam when we were driving to a minister’s meeting, and I retorted, “but what about their terrible treatment of women?” He said that wasn’t always true - it depended upon which Muslims you were talking about – and he had found what felt like real equality, and kindness.
When Pauline Dongala and I went to the Global Peace Initiative of Women Religious and Spiritual Leaders in Geneva in 2002, we found many strong, faithful, Muslim women, and they proclaimed their ability to live a liberated life within their religion. I remember one tracing her feminist understanding of religion to the teachings of the Prophet Mohammad, including his respect of women and their education, something that some Muslims would dispute. A couple of years ago, our own Beacon Press published the book, Living Islam Out Loud: American Muslim Women Speak, and the essayists are empowered women who speak of the difficulty and the possibility of being faithful American Muslim women. The reading, “My Sister’s Prayer” that we just heard, came from this book.
Despite what I have sometimes felt about this religion, and what others, whether religious or secular, say about Islam, it is not limited to those who spew violence in its name, who oppress women, who see an untenable divide between believers and unbelievers, or infidels. Islamic leaders do preach peace and compassion. Allah mostly speaks words of mercy and protection in the Koran, much more than of vengeance. Some of the finest Islamic teachings are about the journey of love which we take in this life, as we heard about from Mohammed Iqbal in our Responsive Reading.
Less than a week after September 11th, 2001, when Americans were trying to figure out if Muslims were violent because of their religion, if they hated us because of our religions, or lack thereof, and many other such questions – some of which were held very tightly inside – at that time our congregation had a monthly meeting of a spirituality group, called Tributaries. Of course I assigned the Islamic Sufi story that we heard today as a Grace Note. At that time of national tragedy and fear, we needed to remember the humble, the loving, the acceptable face of Islam, since we didn’t see it or hear it enough, around us, inside us. We still need to be reminded.
I am not a scholar of Islam, although I have studied it many times since I was young. I have tried to read several parts of the Koran, but find little that I can take away, and much of it that is quite difficult to countenance, spiritually, at least on the surface. I hate to admit it. I know that the Bible is unappealing, in parts, but also that it has other areas that are beautifully poetic and contain much wisdom. Some of that great truth is only found by study and meaningful interpretation. Maybe I have not yet found the gold mine in Islam’s most sacred text, and it could partly be because I am reading it in translation, which is not considered appropriate, since much of the poetry and sacredness is said to reside in the sounds of the Arabic itself. We are familiar with the powerful beauty of Buddhist monks chanting and of Hebrew cantors praying in song, but I believe that the religion which most reveres the sound of its sacred language is Islam.
I know that a handful of Islamic scholars are very recently making some headway in better understanding the Koran, much as Biblical scholars began to do a couple of hundred years ago with the Jewish and Christian Scriptures. The Koran has long been recited, (Koran actually means recitation) and not analyzed, which has been mostly prohibited for this holiest vessel of their religion. One of the possible breakthroughs in this beginning scholarship on the Koran, is the proposal that the paradisal reward for Muslim martyrs of 72 virgins, that we’ve heard so much about, is actually a mistranslation. It is really 72 white grapes that will be enjoyed in heaven, a more appropriate phrase at that time. And not unlike the paradise of “a land of milk and honey” for the Hebrews – it was probably all about the food and drink for a desert people who scraped by.
Another scholarly look at the Koran could change the world completely. It turns out that the frequent word translated “infidel” or “unbeliever”, which has motivated so much violence, may mean more that one is not thankful enough to God. “Unbelievers” refers to Muslims, it seems, and was probably meant to spur the faithful to a stronger, deeper faith, not to punish those of other faiths.
In other times, Islam understood this completely – it has been a tolerant religion at many points in history, and in many countries today they practice true acceptance of other religions. They have held the books – scientific, mathematical, philosophical and religious – while everyone else plunged into a dark, disorganized time. Islam has a place as a major force in history, for the positive, as well as the negative.
Finally, maybe the Koran is not the practical center of Islam, anyway – maybe the practices are the religious heart, which seem to be good and understandable in many ways. There are five pillars of the faith that make up their practices, from daily to once in a lifetime religious observances. First, there is a very simple declaration of monotheistic faith, that “There is no god but Allah, (or simply, no deity but God), and Muhammad is His Prophet, (or, the messenger of God). Muhammad is not God, and other prophets are honored. This is a very simple faith statement, unlike most religions.
The second pillar asks Muslims to pray their gratitude and praise five times each day, to be constant in their lives through a direct relationship with God. Not one mediated by priests, but a living faith, linked with the earth. The touching of the head to the ground in prayer is the holiest moment, symbolizing a readiness to be reborn, like a baby, and a willingness to be in the smallest space one can be, humble in the face of the divine.
The third pillar is about charity, giving to those in need and realizing that in reality we own nothing – we only have things in trust to us. Islam sets up a graduated scale of giving – from those who have much, much is expected.
The fourth pillar is the observance of the annual sacred month of Ramadan, with prayer and fasting, from sunrise to sunset. They believe this helps them put their lives in perspective, becoming more disciplined, humble and compassionate.
The final pillar is the pilgrimage to Mecca, the Hajj, to be performed at least once in a Muslim’s life, if physically and economically able. When you arrive, you put aside the clothing that denotes your status and nationality, and everyone wears the same simple cloth garments. The reminder that all, from diverse locations and situations, are together in their journey, is a powerful one for Muslims.
The journey of Islam is one of faith and surrender. The word Islam itself is apparently hard to translate, since I have seen several different versions of what it means, including that it is rooted in the word for peace. The best I can understand is that Islam means a faith that involves the surrender of oneself, a letting go, a giving of oneself wholeheartedly, into the peace of the divine. As Huston Smith, the great chronicler of world religions explains, this makes Islam and Buddhism the only religions that are named after the way of being that you want to cultivate – for Buddhists, awakening, for Muslims, the surrender of peace.
“The journey of love is a very long journey,” the Muslim Mohammed Iqbal wrote, “but sometimes with a sigh you can cross that vast desert. Search and search again without losing hope; You may find sometime a treasure on your way.” As the Muslims say to everyone they meet, “Peace be upon you.”