FISH OR CUT BAIT

In early 2016 I received an open invitation from the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community to attend a prayer service at their mosque in Plano in remembrance of the victims of the attacks in San Bernadino. The invitation stated that the service was open to all faiths. In retrospect I can’t remember where the invitation came from. Was it in an email? A Facebook post? I really don’t know. Normally this is something I would avoid, given my reluctance to do anything outside my comfort zone. But something kept nagging at me and telling me I needed to be there. So despite my trepidation I decided to attend the event.

Let me digress a bit. Ahmadiyya Islam is an Islamic religious movement founded in British India near the end of the 19th century. It originated with the life and teachings of Mirza Ghulam Ahmad (1835–1908), who claimed to be the Mahdi awaited by Muslims. Ahmadiyya adherents believe that Ahmad appeared in the likeness of Jesus, to end religious wars, condemn bloodshed and re-institute morality, justice, and peace. They believe that upon divine guidance he divested Islam of fanatical and innovative beliefs and practices by championing what is, in their view, Islam’s true and essential teachings as practiced by Muhammad and the early Islamic community. Thus, Ahmadis view themselves as leading the revival and peaceful propagation of Islam. If you have time you may want to compare this with Wahhabism as espoused by the Saudis.

Two things saddened me when I arrived at the mosque. The first was the elevated level of security in place at the mosque. The entrance was partially blocked, only admitting one vehicle at a time, and was staffed by multiple men wearing vests with the word “security” displayed prominently. Given the level of vitriol leveled at Muslims in this country this should not be surprising. As I approached the gate I could tell that I my arrival caused some concern. Then I remembered that I was an old white guy driving a big ol honking F-150 up to their door and understood their anxiety. However, once I rolled down the window and shared the reason for my visit I was greeted warmly, directed to a parking spot, and escorted to the mosque entrance. The second thing that saddened me was that it soon became apparent that I was the only non-Muslim in attendance other than a Plano police officer and various reporters. On my way in Kevin Cokely from Channel 5 news stopped me and asked a few questions and my answers were duly recorded. I was dressed in “full Presbyterian” garb (creased pants, white shirt, tie) so I guess I looked out of place to him. More on that in a bit.

The service itself was brief, consisting of readings from the Koran focusing on Koranic admonitions against discrimination and violence, prayers for the victims and their families, and a statement from the Imam condemning the use of violence in the name of Islam. I was very surprised when the Imam opened the meeting and asked me specifically if I would share my thoughts.  Once I regained by composure I reluctantly agreed. Since I hadn’t come prepared to speak I focused my thoughts on the questions Kevin Cokely asked me; who do I represent and why am I here?

The first question was easy. While I shared the fact that I was a Presbyterian elder and a member of Canyon Creek Presbyterian Church I made it clear that I was not speaking in any official capacity. My thoughts were mine alone but that I hoped I spoke for many in the broader Christian community.

The second question, why am I here, was more difficult. I mentioned earlier that something was nagging at me and urging me to attend. While I’ve never heard the voice of God directly, He often nudges me to move, often in ways that make me very uncomfortable. Those that know me know that I speak often of the need for communities of faith to come together peacefully. Perhaps this was God’s way of telling me to “fish or cut bait” as we used to say in Minnesota. At any rate, I told those gathered that I felt called to be there. For some reason God wanted me to be there to deliver two messages. To paraphrase, the first was that, despite our many differences, we all believe in the same God and can trace our origins back to the same historical figures. We must focus on the things that unite us while acknowledging and respecting our differences. Secondly, any act of violence against one individual or group is an act of violence against us all. It is incumbent on all faith communities to unite to combat the violence that pervades our society and the world. We have the power to stop the madness and it is our duty to act and deny those who would turn us against each other.    

With that I concluded my remarks and the service soon ended. I was invited to share a cup of tea and spoke with many of those present. Most expressed their gratitude for my attendance and expressed general agreement with what I had to say. Now I don’t think what I said was in any way profound. Nonetheless, I can only hope that my presence made my little part of the world just a little bit better. And, in my own way, perhaps I struck a small blow for interfaith dialog and cooperation.

P.S.  After I first wrote this  Sunni Muslims told me that Ahmadiyya Muslims are not “real Muslims”. He tried to explain the difference to me. The closest analogy I have is that Ahmadiyya Islam is to Sunni Islam what Mormonism is to mainline Christianity. They hold some elements of belief in common but the underlying theology differs in very significant ways.