I've received a warm reception in Hartford Monthly Meeting, and I get a little thrill every time I park outside, early, to drink my coffee. The normal amused smirk on my face turns something beatific when I get to sit in silent dhikrAllah (that is, Remembrance of God) surrounded by others doing likewise. But I'm afear'd, often, of speaking with others, spending time around them for any definite period.
Some of that is a question of diversity: I'm the youngest (of the adults) sitting in Meeting. Always. While I'm remiss to blame a lack of youthful vitality for my personal reticence, there's a certain feeling of being of the wrong age-group to find social cohesion. Part of my decision to regularly attend Meeting was, in part, due to the hope of finding people of a similar age engaged in spirituality of a similar flavor to my own; and while I doubt my ability to find many youthful Bektashis worldwide, let alone in Connecticut, I felt more confident of finding some Quaker youth locally. Guess not.
Secondly, the WASPishness, generally, of the Meeting: all-white, dominantly Anglo, and, er, Protestant by definition. Again, I'm remiss to blame ethnic centrality to my uncomfortable nature (especially given that I'm a rich white educated heterosexual American first-born male), but I do feel conscious of a lack of diversity in the group which serves to make me feel very, very white. Odd how white people make me feel more white than non-whites. Huh. Anyway...
... but the reason I feel especially out of place is the fact that I'm not actually Christian. I'm an Ithna'ashari Shi'i Bektashi Muslim.
So what am I doing in a Quaker meeting? Well, the reasons given above: feeling a need for spiritual community, folks with like-values and a similar way-of-life. I ended up deciding upon a Quaker meeting at least in part because of their theological liberality as well as - for me the biggest draw - corporate silence. I liked the idea, and ended up loving the practice, of sitting with other people and not talking. Or not much talking. The various Quaker testimonies served only to cement things for me.
Never-the-less, I do feel an intruder, someone spying on and/or stealing someone else's home, society, culture. The result of that is an ongoing personal fantasy, in which I am called upon to demonstrate why I should be allowed to become member of the the Religious Society of Friends. It's not a grand fantasy; it's not a fantasy in which I stand before, say, Yearly Meeting and am called upon to defend my position, but it is a fantasy in which I am called to do so in front of Monthly Meeting, at least, and of course involves some grand speech and ministering, during which I state my creed, as best I know it: the short poetry by Yunus Emre to the right
Mystic is what they call me;
Hate, my only enemy.
I harbor a grudge against none:
to me, the whole world is One.
Such a credo (or more appropriately, aspiration, since I do not dare to claim to live up to such sentiment fully) is of course the basis of my path, my tariqa, but also the path of Jesus, I should think.
Like most Muslims, of course, I would claim that Jesus was a prophet of God; I would also say that he was the 'Spirit of God', the RuhAllah, as the Qur'an states unequivocally. I challenge the idea of a virgin birth, though, as well as the other miracle stories: I see them as allegory and metaphor, symbols of deeper spiritual realities. I would also challenge a belief that Jesus was God exclusively; I wouldn't deny him divinity, but I would deny Jesus was, is, and will be the sole human manifestation of the divinity, or that he might claim the totality of the Divine expression (there is more to God than His form in the world, exalted is He above all we might ascribe to Him).
In other words, Jesus was a teacher, neither the first nor the last, but an important one none-the-less.
I would argue, then, that what was important was not who Jesus was, but rather how he was, because while we can never really know what it was like to be Jesus, certainly we can attempt to act in the way he acted and espoused in order to what that is like.
My understanding - though I admit it could be wrong - is that this was part of the original design of Quakerism, the various testimonies, the core values of this quiet but active corner of Christianity. I know, certainly, that such was and is the path of the Pir of my order, Haji Bektash Veli, and the quiet but active corner of my Muslim faith. In this, we share the same values and even beliefs, to a certain degree.
These are my 'Christocentric' credentials.
I do not want or wish for controversy; my sole desire is to live, worship and serve amongst a community of fellows aspiring to the same calling.
Am I welcome still? Probably; at least by some, I think I would be welcome. But fear still sits inside, the fear of not being allowed a place at the table, fear of being the Outsider all over again.
All I can do, really, is to sit in and befriend that fear, until it changes - like all other fears - into a palpable excitement. Then, maybe, I will find what I seek.
10 comments:
Hi, Ashiq Chris! And, as one Quaker "heretic" to (possibly) another, welcome. *warm smile*
I noticed that you'd stopped by our blog, Quaker Pagan Reflections, earlier today. Assuming you found anything of interest there, you will already know that my own spiritual understandings are far more foreign to Friends than Islam is... at least Muslims recognize Jesus as a prophet, after all, and are (most definitively, as I understand it) monotheist.
I guess my point is that, if a Pagan like me kind find a home (not just a welcome, but a home) among Quakers, then I suspect that you can also. Not to say it doesn't call for a certain daring on your part... but then, doesn't a spiritual journey always call on us for that? Yes, it was difficult to "out" my beliefs for the first time, first at my monthly meeting (Mt. Toby--if you're ever in the area, stop by and say hello!)and then at New England Yearly Meeting.
But I'm learning that the difficulty of being candid about how we see the world of Spirit is not unique to those of us whose spirituality is not in keeping with the history of Friends. Christ-centered Quakers also talk about being afraid to use the language which is most natural to them--something I find deeply sad. I'm pretty sure that not just the miracle stories of Jesus that are metaphors, but all our religious understandings. And I'm also pretty sure that the glimpses of God we have been given are meant to bring us together, not divide us.
But sometimes people can say or do hurtful things. (My early post, Exclusivity,
is largely about a hurtful experience I had early on among Friends.
That's the exception, though, and not the rule. There's no question that you would be welcome to attend any monthly meeting as long as you wished, no matter what your beliefs would be. As for whether or not you would be accepted as a Quaker, and your membership approved if you requested it, that would depend on the traditional clearness process. And at most liberal Quaker meetings, that process is not going to be looking to disqualify you from membership if you saw yourself as both Quaker and Muslim, but instead to help you sound out how it might be that you could be called to such a thing. Your clearness committee would be looking to be sure that you understood what it is to be a Quaker--that there's something going on in the silence other than human meditation, for instance, and the place of corporate (community) discernment and communion with God in things like meeting for business.
And, if your process were like mine, they would be looking to be sure that you were going to get your full range of spiritual needs met in a Quaker meeting. (Though there are, in fact, other Friends at my meeting with some knowledge or experience with Pagan ritual and thealogy, I'm not going to get full moon rituals from a Quaker meeting, for instance. Happily, I don't seem to need them, or if I ever do, I am able to meet those needs outside my meeting.)
Hartford may be more conservative than my meeting by a bit--I'm not sure. But we're both attending meetings in a very liberal Quarterly Meeting of a very liberal Yearly Meeting of Quakers. I would encourage you to take the risk. There's probably someone from Ministry and Counsel available to talk to after meeting, and it would be pretty natural, at least at our meeting, to approach them and talk directly about your concerns, as well as about what has been drawing you to attend the meeting.
Typically, you'll be welcome in a Quaker meeting as long as you are finding your needs met there (though I understand that not all of yours are--especially the age issue seems to be a vexed one for Friends, alas) and you'll be accepted for who you are. Deeper involvement with the meeting, if you desire it at some point, would mean learning Friends processes and disciplines--kind of cool whatever your theology--but would not, in my experience, necessarily involve "accepting Jesus" in the Christian sense. (Yes, that's theoretically somewhat controversial in more conservative Quaker circles--but at my monthly meeting, I know that it would not be a problem from the community.)
And I hope you'll feel free to connect to the online Quaker blogosphere, too. Though in my experience more conservatively Christian than my meeting is, it's also a wonderfully supportive place, filled with those who are attempting to live up to the Light they have been given. And I know that, for me, at least, connecting first in the virtual world has made it safer and more comfortable to risk being real in the physical world of my meeting.
Blessed be, friend--and I hope to connect with you again, online or face to face.
Hi, Cat!
Thank you for your warm and welcoming response, and helping me to get a little bit more clearness of my own on the issue.
I haven't been sure of being welcomed by the Quaker community, locally, or how I would go about becoming a member. So far, I have just attended every First Day Meeting that I've been free to attend. I adore the silence, and also the occasional ministry. I haven't stayed behind for Eleventh Hour, either because I've had to work, or to spend some precious time with my girlfriend, who I'm only able to see on weekends.
But I would like to get more involved. I feel... comfortable in Meeting, and I feel close to the values of Quakerism, which are similar to my own personal values, as well as the rather theologically liberal and 'heretical' values of Bektashi Islam, my chosen faith-path. The only complaint, if I had to make one about Bektashism, is that there are so darn few of us - 700,000 world-wide, by the liberal estimates.
Which is where the Quakerism comes in - it's a community of people who uphold the same things I do. And so I would hope to join at some point.
I feel uncomfortable looking for such joint membership, because I feel it cheapens both my alignment with Bektashism as well as Quakerism.
I'm not sure how things will proceed. If I'm lucky, I will be able to save up enough money to visit my Baba (spiritual advisor) in Michigan this spring, and I will likely ask him his advice and blessings before I proceed further.
But in the mean time, at the very least, I would like to attend Meeting, and also to befriend more Quakers. They make good company :)
Thank you for your reply; it brightened my evening.
Ashk Olsun - Let there be Love.
Chris
And Ashk Olsun to you as well. :)
I think you can be quite confident in the willingness of your local meeting to welcome and accept you as an attender, regardless of your theology. I know that it's hard to cram any more involvements into anybody's life these days, but I think you'll be glad, if you do find you have the time to interact with your meeting more often, you'll find them very glad to get to know you.
You might enjoy reading some Quaker bloggers. Be aware, the degree of Christ-centeredness varies a lot from branch to branch of the Quaker tree! Quakers have among us evangelical Christians, humanistic Christians, non-theists, Pagans, and others. These bloggers come from a range of theological understandings, but have a knack, I think, of writing things that open me up spiritually:
A Silly Poor Gospel
The Good Raised Up
Growing Together in the Light
seams of a peculiar queer
What Canst Thou Say
Wallhydra's Porch
I'll also mention the titles of three books that have been essential to me in understanding Quaker practice--though I'm not Christian any more than you are, I am quite committed to learning and deepening in the traditional practices of Friends and Friends' communities. The books are:
Patricia Loring's Listening Spirituality, Part I: Personal Spiritual Practices Among Friends
Loring's Listening Spirituality, Part II: Corporate Spiritual Practice Among Friends
and Lloyd Lee Wilson's Essays on the Quaker Vision of Gospel Order
As you can imagine, the Christian language is pretty heavy-duty in all three books, and particularly in Wilson's. I did find that challenging, but I also find the ideas were rich and spirit-filled, and have absolutely deepened my understanding and practice of Quaker ways. I recommend them, despite the challenges to a non-Christian, as a good way to learn more about Quakers, and whether our ways make sense in companionship with Bektashi Islam.
Meanwhile, I'm adding you to my blogroll, in hopes of watching your own faith journey unfold and perhaps learning a little more about a form of Islam I had no knowledge of before encountering you. (I hope you'll share more of that journey, if time allows! I'm a real fan of the spiritual journey genre of religious writing, as is perhaps obvious from my own blog!)
Meanwhile, wherever the Spirit leads you, may you be led in love and joy.
Blessings!
Cat,
Thanks for the head's up on those books; as money becomes available, I'll pick 'em up. Last Friday I ordered Guide to Quaker Practice to check out, so I'll proceed from there.
I'm actually pretty damned comfortable with Christian symbolism and language; I have a fair collection of spiritual literature, the bulk of which is Christian by temperament. The Prophet Muhammad (sawas) said that Wisdom is the lost property of the believer, and that he or she should not be afraid to retrieve it wherever he or she finds it. I try to take that advice to heart, though I admit that sometimes the search for wisdom leads to places that strain my credulity. That's part of the path, though: stepping outside comfortable confinement.
Thanks for adding me to the blogroll; I'll keep reading as long as you keep writing ;)
Ashk Olsun.
I think we share some interests.
I like to learn more about others. about life about cultures and countries. I will do it in English. I hope you see my blog. and help me to write better. and to understand your writting.
Salam, Muhammad Agha,
Man kami farsi mamifah-mam. Just not a lot ;)
If I can help you with your English in any way, please let me know; and if you could help me with my Farsi, that would also be wonderful.
Hi,
I'm a mystic too, I loved your quote. I'm also a person of color. The WASPyness and lack of diversity bugs me too. It is a conversation a few of us can't stop bringing up.
I was raised Christian but don't consider myself Christian now, because the word is empty to me. A word that is not empty to me is Jesus. All in all, it's just words.
Hi, Tania and Ayo,
Thanks for the kind and encouraging words.
Tania: If you have any questions regarding Islam, or Bektashi Islam more specifically, please feel free to ask and I'll do my best to answer. For me, at least, delving into Islam and Islamic civilization has revealed an entire world the likes of which I simply didn't know existed, at least equal to our Western, Greco-Christian civilization. All that's required is digging past pre-conceived notions of who us Muslims are and what we really believe.
Ayo: Jesus, peace be upon him, the Word of God (al kalimatullah), also speaks to my condition as well, though perhaps in a different way than he speaks to you :)
As far as the lack of diversity goes, I don't feel there is much that can be done about it; there can be no compulsion in faith. But us rich white educated hetero folk can at least be allies, and as you said, it is a conversation we should be having again and again and again.
Ashiq Chris,
I just want to share with you my joy at reading your blog. I found my way here by way of QuakerQuaker, and I am deeply impressed with what you write here -- both with your faith commitment and your questioning, skeptical, un-self-deceiving approach to what that faith means and how to live it.
I confess that I myself have never understood the appeal of Islam. I have always thought of religions as having two parts. First, there is the moralistic, legalistic aspect: the rules and rituals and orthodoxies and moralities. You must not do such-and-such to be considered a good person; if you do so, you are a bad person. I have always thought of this as the "negative" aspect of religion -- not "negative" in the sense that it's bad (morality is a good and necessary thing!), but in the sense that this is mainly PROscriptive: about what NOT to do, about setting boundaries, about exclusion. In this, most religions are similar, although they seem to get mightily upset about what minor differences they have.
The second aspect of relgion is what I consider its more spiritual, inclusive, "positive," PREscriptive aspects: the life-affirming spirituality, insight and wisdom about how to live life that gives a religion its unique character. For Christians, it is the power of self-denying love; for Bhuddists perhaps it is compassion born from an awareness of suffering and limitation; for modern Jews, perhaps it is a wise and humorous awareness of how to seek meaning within limitation. I see this second, more spiritual aspect of religion as what religion is "really" about for me, what makes a religious worldview unique. After all, it's not as if most atheists don't adhere to a moral code.
That said, I have never been able to locate this second, more "spiritual" aspect of Islam. Whenever Islam is presented to me -- even by Muslims -- it always looks from the outside as being merely about proscriptive rules and restrictions and moralistic guidelines and such; I haven't been able to glean the central, positive spiritual insight that holds all of it together. In the past few years -- as the concerns of our nation have become increasingly bound up with the concerns of Muslim people, I have made an attempt to get beyond this impression, and I have become vaguely aware of the ways that Islam is also very spiritual. I have even become aware that there is a mystical tradition within Islam, much as mystical Quakerism exists within Christianity.
But your blog has given me at least a hint of a deeper understanding of what, positively, may be found in Islam. I thank you for that, and promise to continue to engage my mind and soul in this understanding. I am intrigued by your intelligent, critical (in the best sense of the word) approach to your faith, and I look forward to learning more here.
Peace,
Kent
Kent,
Thank you for your comments.
Understanding Islam, I've found, boils down to two things. First is the Qur'an itself. Reading or studying or reciting the Qur'an, for us Muslims, is a spiritually transforming experience: it is an encounter with God Himself, in poetic form. We view the Qur'an in the same way that a Christian might view Jesus (peace be upon him) - there is an ineffable, numinous quality to that text which sets it apart from any other text I know. The Arabic language in which it was composed has a multiplicity of meaning which cannot really be translated: for example, the word 'Rahman', which is the second-most used name of God in the book (after Allah), is usually translated as 'Most Gracious' or 'Most Compassionate', but is etymologically related to the Arabic word for 'womb', and so the 'grace' and 'compassion' which this word expresses is tied to the grace and compassion and loving care a mother has for her unborn child. God is saying to us, with this, that His love for us is the same as that of a mother for her unborn, that which she carries within her.
The second thing to understand - and that which I found most difficult at first - is the character of the Prophet, peace be upon him and his family, which one of his wives said was the same as the character of the Qur'an. For me, what is most telling is the incredible humanity of the man. He was just like you and I, a simple man trying to do God's will as best he could. In his life we see happiness, joy, sadness, anger, frustration, ignorance, understanding... I see him, personally, as a role-model in the sense that here was someone who was not perfect, who never claimed to be perfect, who spent his entire life trying to live up to the highest ideals one can espouse, often succeeding but now and then failing. I feel closer, personally, to someone with faults striving to be good than to someone without fault.
The anecdote I like best about him, and which never ceases to make me cry, is that when the Prophet died he left nothing behind but a shield he had pawned for some grain to feed his family. I think it's important to place the Islamic expansion, which looks bad in paper, in this context: Muhammad (if not his successors) was the ruler of an expanding 'empire', yes, but the wealth gained from that expansion was entirely devoted to the poor. Just as Jesus asked us to give everything we have to those in need, so did Muhammad.
Lastly, to understand Islamic law, Shari'a, one again needs context. Shari'a, in Arabic, means 'a pathway leading to water', water being a precious commodity in a desert. So one needs to understand (which actually many Muslims do not because the vast majority do not understand Arabic) that Shari'a is the search for the will of God in order to live by His commandments and so partake of the 'water' of the well-lived life (as well as the 'next' life).
I choose the word 'search' purposefully, because there is no such thing as "Shari'a law" on Earth. Shari'a, in the Muslim view, is eternal, timeless and perfect; at best, we get fiqh, jurisprudence, the imperfection application of our imperfect understanding of Shari'a. When Western media outlets talk about the 'imposition of Shari'a law", it reflects their total lack of understanding and latent Islamophobic Western attitudes.
What is being imposed is not Shari'a, but a literal understanding of Islamic law unencumbered by the messy business of 1300 some-odd years of jurisprudential development meant to curb excesses coupled with cultural misconception. For example, the so-called punishment for adultery - stoning to death - exists nowhere in the Qur'an. It is cultural. Moreover, Islamic legal development stipulates that this punishment is only applicable should there be 4 independent confirmations by eyewitnesses personally attesting to having seen the penis penetrate the vagina.
Such legal developments, however, are glossed over for complex reasons - see my upcoming post on my experience of being a white Western convert for more explication.
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