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!)