Why I wear hijab

    

     As-salaamu alaykum! As I considered what I wanted to talk about this week, women’s rights just kept coming to mind. As I am working with some of my fellow sisters on a Ladies’ Night discussing women's rights, it is really no wonder it is on the forefront of my attention. There are many, many rights for women in Islam, and I am looking forward to many more mental meanderings on the very subject in upcoming blogs. This blog post will expand on an earlier Facebook post I authored on this very subject.

  As a woman, who has the right to freedom of religion (constitutionally but more importantly from Allah subHaanahu wa ta`alaa), it is particularly important to me to understand what my own faith has to say about what my rights are and how I as a woman, should be treated. I have never been more impressed with the rights afforded to women than those guaranteed by Islam. I know, I know… some of you are screaming at your computers right now, “what about the Taliban’s treatment of women?” or “Look at this nation, or that one, and how they treat women!” No argument from me that there are examples of female oppression and that they need to be addressed. When I say rights guaranteed by Islam, however, I am referring to what is stated in the Qur’an and Hadith, not how some people interpret or practice Islam.

     This time around I would like to talk specifically about my experiences with the hijab (an arabic word meaning “barrier” or “partition”). It is undeniably one of today's hot topics after all and is touted as one of the most significant visual examples of female oppression. While "hijab" is often used in reference to the female headscarf, it actually refers to the overall modest dress of a Muslim, male or female (that's right gentlemen, in Islam, you must be modest as well). When I began exploring the Islamic dress code, I, like many, focused first on the headscarf. Quickly, however, I found myself taking a second look at my entire wardrobe. I began to examine what I wear, and why.

     In Islam, a man is expected to respect a woman and not look at her or lust after her (unless they are married). She has a right to her privacy and to not be treated as an object. Allah encourages a woman to cover herself, because, let’s face it guys, some of you can’t help yourselves. When a man looks at a woman (who is not his wife) with lust, it is considered a sin, not only in Islam, but Christianity as well. In essence, when we cover ourselves, we do so not only to respect ourselves, but also as a mercy to men- to not deliberately draw a man into sin. If he does so regardless of our efforts, the sin belongs to him. Hey, brother, at least we tried.  

     I also learned, and found very fascinating, that hijab is not just a means of being modest when out and about. it is also a statement of our faith. The Qur’an says “O Prophet, tell your wives and your daughters and the women of the believers to bring down over themselves [part] of their outer garments. That is more suitable that they will be known and not harassed. And ever is Allah Forgiving and Merciful” (Quran 33:59). This simply increased my love of hijab and made my wearing it an even greater honor.

     Just as someone may sport a jersey from their favorite team to declare their fealty to that team, hijab is an outward statement that says I am a woman of faith- that I am a Muslim. While that sentiment certainly exists in the hearts and minds of many women who do not wear hijab, the hijab acts as a clear outward indication of the inward commitment. This is true of men and women. Men are not as easily recognized as Muslim because their dress code is such that western clothing often suffices; however, when a man is identified by his clothing as being Muslim, that bears the same significance. He, like his female counterpart, is sending a message to the world that he dresses to please Allah subHanahu wa ta'alaa.

     The question still remains: am I oppressed by choosing to cover my body when in public or in the company of males to whom I am not related? I ardently argue that I am not.  I have never felt more confident in my life than I do now, since I began dressing in accordance with Islam. Despite what the media and fear mongers say about how I dress, I do not feel oppressed. I feel set free. I don’t know about you but I would much rather have someone’s first impression of me be “Wow! That woman is really religious,” or even an awkward glance and acknowledgment that I am Muslim before looking away than some running internal dialog about my body type, dress size, or whether or not I work out.

     Think of it this way: people display things they want to show off for many reasons. Maybe it is a big house, or a sports car, or a work of art…  But the things that are most precious to them, the things they believe to be most valuable above all their other possessions, they lock in a safe or hide in a shoe box in the back of their closet: Grandma’s pearl necklace, Grandpa's pocket watch, family photos... You get my drift. They are those things that cannot be assigned monetary value because to the individual, they are irreplaceable. My body falls into that category.  It is a gift to me from Allah subHanahu wa ta'alaa and is so precious it is, quite frankly, not available for public viewing.

As-salaamu alaykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuhu! (may peace be upon you and the mercy of God and His blessings!)

Unity

As-salaamu alaykum (peace be upon you), dear brothers and sisters! We live in a time of fear, ignorance, and violence; at least that is what I am told. "If you are not a Muslim, you should be afraid of the Muslim walking down the street...s/he might be a terrorist! If you are a Muslim, you should be afraid of extremists all around you...Muslim or otherwise!" This is a time when Satan is working hard to divide us; convincing each side that he is allied with the "opposition." How easy it is to give up hope and then join more and more people on the road to intolerance and hate.

Last weekend I had the great honor and privilege of attending a potluck at one of the Episcopal churches in our town. It was designed to be an evening of fellowship and communion (in the general sense of the word, not of the “holy” variety). My family was selected to be among a delegation of Muslims to come and represent our faith. It was not only a social interaction, it was one with a purpose.  We would be sitting at a table with Christian families and answering questions about Islam. I already knew what the questions would be; I’ve had to face them before...so I was ready. I was excited.

I arrived that night mentally armed with how I would answer questions such as “how do you feel about ISIS,” “why is there so much violence in the Qur’an if Islam is a peaceful religion,” and “why are women so oppressed?” Mind you, I am not the expert, and I am weary about representing my faith as any sort of authority on the subject. We, along with the other families chosen, were there to represent the rich diversity in the Muslim community. There were faces from Egypt, Morocco, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Palestine etc., and - of course - the United States (that's us!). In other words, we were not there to be experts; we were there to be people - people from a global community who may have very little in common but are bound by a brotherhood and sisterhood that transcends blood and culture.

Arriving at the event.

What I experienced was not at all what I expected. As I said, I came ready to answer a slew of questions. I expected to be challenged with a buffet of arguments...seasoned with a dash of anger or, at the very least, a pinch of apprehensiveness. When I walked in, I was greeted by a pair of middle-aged women with smiles, warm greetings, and name stickers. Just as a woman in a headscarf (called khimaar in the Qur'an) might be seen as the stereotypical Muslim, these two were the stereotypical Christian: shoulder-length hair (styled and sprayed in a way that looks altogether casual and formal), big earrings, modest sweaters and a warm welcoming demeanor that you wish all your neighbors and in-laws had. They commented on the cuteness of our young children and how well they wrote their own names.

We then passed into the large auditorium, which was set up like a formal banquet hall: round tables with white or blue tablecloths and square centerpieces of the opposite color and a long row of tables overstuffed with dishes from 67 Christians and 34 Muslims (if I have my numbers correct). In other words, a cornucopia of culinary masterpieces.

What impressed me, however, was not the decorations, or the food, or the size of the room. It was the people. I was greeted as we put our dish in one of the few dwindling spots on the impressive buffet table by a mother very similar in age and demeanor to myself. She had her two daughters in tow who were similar in age to the children I brought. We took instantly to each other and spent our meal chatting.

So I have painted a picture of your typical potluck dinner, whether at a mosque, church, or local community center. But there was something about this evening that was unique, special. You see, I did not get the smorgasbord of insinuating questions or challenging statements, may Allah, subHaanahu wa ta`aalaa (glorified is He and exalted), humble me for my assumptions. All the data I was armed with sat in my arsenal, gathering dust. As we sat and shared a meal together, we talked about our kids, our families, the pros and cons of the public school system, and yes, we did talk about Islam. Our family and another from our masjid (aka mosque) sat with two families from the church, both of whom were amazed to learn how similar Christianity and Islam actually are. Neither knew that our faith stems from the same father as theirs- Abraham, and that we teach our kids about the great prophets such as Adam, Moses, Noah, and even Jesus, may Allah’s blessings be upon them all.

   

As I moved around the room, getting pictures of the folks at all the tables to share amongst both groups, I had many pleasant, heartwarming conversations, gave hugs, or shook hands. Masha Allaah (it is as God wills), the evening represented exactly what Islam and Christianity are supposed to be to each other- sibling faiths, each originating from our One True Creator. Allaah, subHaanahu wa ta`alaa (glorified is He and exalted), teaches us in the Qur'an to do good to our neighbors, whether they are related to us or not. Prophet Muhammad is recorded to have said that we don't really have faith until we love for our neighbor what we love for ourselves. Jesus, the Messiah, is recorded in the New Testament as saying, "Love your neighbor as yourself." Peace and blessings be upon them both. They didn't teach us to only love our Christian neighbors (if you are a Christian); they didn't teach us to only love our Muslim neighbors (if you are a Muslim)...they taught us simply to love...and that is what I experienced that night, in that room, permeating our hearts. It reminded me of something very important:

"In a world with so much fear, anger, ignorance and hate; there is still hope, love, understanding and compassion. There is still a unifying force among us...the brothers and sisters in humanity...the children of Adam and Eve!"

Christian and Muslim families visit together after enjoying plates loaded

with mama's home cooking... from all over the world!


As-salaamu alaykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuhu! (may peace be upon you and the mercy of God and His blessings!)

Always a Muslim

   

As I recall my past and how I came to be who I am today, one thing is crystal clear to me: I’ve always been a Muslim. When I first realized it I felt a sense of awe, wonder, and more than a little surprise. When I think of the words “I am a Muslim,” I am still awestruck. Yes, in June of 2014 I came to know about and embrace the Qur’an and Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him, but I have always been a Muslim.  I’m going to explain this in two ways, both of which illustrate why this is so. First there is my early understanding of Islam and the six pillars of belief. Second is my coming to understand the terms “Islam” and “Muslim.” Early on in my self discovery I would have just said I “feel” like I have always been Muslim, that the Qur’an reflected those words already written upon my heart. After additional study and coming to understand in more depth what it means to be a Muslim I would confirm resoundingly, “I have definitely always been a Muslim.”

So let’s start at the beginning. You can pick up any “Idiot’s Guide to Islam” or do a quick web search on Islam and you will quickly stumble across the six articles of faith. The articles of faith are a compilation, based on the Qur’an and Hadith, of those things a person must believe to be considered a Muslim.  Now, I’ll admit, I understand that there is more to a religion than it’s stated articles of faith. As it was a factor in my early impressions of Islam, I believe it bears a lot of weight in shaping my beliefs and is therefore worth mentioning. To be a Muslim you have to believe in One God, His angels, Revelation from God, the prophets of God, the Day of Judgement, and predestination (God’s will).

Those six requirements are not at all shocking to most followers of monotheistic faiths and I am no exception. If you were to leave out any more details and asked me if I believed in those six articles, I would have told you unequivocally yes, I do. But why then, back in my early 20’s, did I not begin calling myself a Muslim? Upon learning the articles, but prior to learning more about Islam, I already knew it was a religion that originally came from God. I knew I believed in all the articles, yet I did not put much thought into the idea of calling myself a Muslim. I would have compared the six articles to the 8-Fold Path of Buddhism. I see wisdom and truth in each of the steps of the 8-Fold Path and certainly I can see how following it with sincerity would shape someone into a better person, yet I do not consider myself a Buddhist. And so it was with the articles of faith and Islam.

While it is critical in my walk that I had acknowledged the truth to the six articles of faith, there is another reason why I would say I have always been a Muslim. Prior to my knowledge of Islam, the term Muslim had the same definition to me as Christian, Jew, Buddhist, or any other label used to identify one with a specific religion or faith group. What’s fascinating to me about the Arabic word “Muslim”, is that it’s actually very unlike any of those labels as the word itself does not just describe one group of people who follow one faith tenant. As soon as I understood that, I knew that I laughed out loud. I knew at that moment I had always been a Muslim.

When I first explained to a family member the meaning of the word Muslim, I made a mistake that I will seek to not repeat in this blog: forget how uncomfortable people have become with the term. Here I will attempt to be more careful  and certainly more respectful of other’s preconceived notions of what it means to be a Muslim.

The Arabic word Muslim is defined on Google as “a follower of the religion of Islam.” The problem with that definition is that you are defining a word in another language using another word in that language, neither of which is properly explained within the definition. The word “Muslim” actually means, one who does Islam, not one who follows the religion of Islam. Ok… so what does it mean to “do Islam”?!? Seriously! What is the difference? The word Islam is not the name of a religion, although it has adopted that additional usage as a means of delineating between those who follow the Qur’an and sunnah of Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) and those of other monotheistic and Abrahamic faiths. Islam is an Arabic word that means “submission or surrender” specifically in relationship to God. The actual etymology of the word is so fascinating and beautiful that perhaps it will be something I discuss in a future blog. Suffice it to say, if Islam means “submission or surrender to God” and “Muslim” means “one who submits or surrenders to God” (which by the way, it does) then I have, indeed always been a Muslim.

Perhaps you are still wondering, how on earth can that explanation be seen as offensive? When I first explained it, I made the mistake of including (truthfully) that anyone who meets the above mentioned criteria would be considered, by Muslims, to be a Muslim. If the individual has not been properly exposed to the Qur’an or taught about Muhammad, then Allah subHana wa ta’ala knows best whether his/her heart is sincere for Him and He alone is the judge. Note to self: in today’s tense sociopolitical atmosphere, do not call someone a Muslim (or even allude to it) if they do not identify themselves as Muslim. I can, however, say with certainty that the term has applied to me my entire life, whether I knew it or not.

I write about this because it was very exciting for me to discover. It is something I wish more non-Muslims knew. As a result, I got a little technical and I hope, insha Allah (God willing) to include more and more posts pertaining directly to Islam in the future. For now, being a newbie, I do not wish to spread corruption or confusion about Islam, Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him), or Muslims and I certainly don’t want to present myself as a scholar or even an informational source when I, myself, am just beginning to scratch the surface. May Allah subhanahu wa ta’ala guide myself and any who read my words and may He make of me a light unto others and not a source of confusion. Ameen.

As-salaamu alaykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatuhu! (may peace be upon you and the mercy of God and His blessings!)