Tuesday, October 1, 2013

There is no deity but God, and Muhammad is the Messenger of God.

Allah is greatest. I testify there is none worthy of worship except Allah. I testify that Muhammad is the Messenger of Allah. I testify that Ali is the wali of Allah. Hasten to the salat. Hasten to success. The time for the best of deeds has come! Allah is greatest. There is none worthy of worship except Allah.


The adhan, call to prayer, rings out for the third time I’ve heard it today. As the men rush to Mosque on their scooters and stand shoulder to shoulder, touching one another, as to say we are one and we are in community together, they pray to Allah. They pray to God. They begin their ritualistic motions, kneeling, prostrating before God announcing His holiness and His omnipotent presence in their lives.

The women continue to go about their daily business, I see mothers walking their children home, sweeping the roads, selling petrol to the motor bikes that pass by, all of them wearing their hijabs, a physical sign of their religious background and their conservative upbringing. It’s easy to tell who is Muslim as I walk through the town of Siantar. They are not trying to hide their religion, they are screaming it (quite literally) five times a day throughout the town, as the muezzin grabs the microphone and begins the call to prayer, (otherwise known as my Indonesian alarm clock.)

Now, traveling across the ocean, I can think of more than one occasion where I’ve been in a restaurant out to dinner with some friends from church, where we’ve grabbed each other’s hands discreetly and uttered a prayer slightly louder than a whisper, but yet somehow audible. As if we’re afraid to flaunt our religion, for we might be accused of being “showy” or pushing religion on someone else, or bringing God into a public domain. I can’t but be slightly in awe of the Muslim cultures’ devotion to their prayer.

In Chicago where I’m currently living, I have watched taxi drivers pull over, place their mat on the ground (of course pointing in the direction of Mecca) and pray their afternoon prayers. I have watched the men on the corner of my block, move all their cars into one garage and gather in the other to listen to someone (who I can only assume is an elder or possibly an imam?) and break the fast of Ramadan. Riding north on the redline track, I can see into the room of the women’s section of a Mosque, watching them have community and pray together, I can see it. I can’t help but be in awe of their confidence in their faith.

Yet when a Christian, for example Tim Tebow kneels in prayer after scoring a touchdown, he is ridiculed by other Christians. The fundamentalists praised him for giving God the glory for his athletic ability (we can argue sports another time) while most mainline protestants were not comfortable bringing God into their living rooms on a Sunday afternoon, after all didn’t we just spend the morning with Him?

We live in a culture now where the cross and crucifix pendants we wear around our necks have become more of a sign of fashion than a proclamation of our faith; I can’t help but wonder where the confident Christians are hiding? Why do our church bells not toll louder? Why do we not gather in public to come together to pray. Now, we can argue the relevance of it all, and the fact we do not NEED to, but what if we were making a public scene as if to let everyone around us know yes, we are Christian and we are unashamed of our belief. Christianity has left a bad taste in the mouths of many, and I wonder if that has crippled us from announcing too loudly what we believe.

I’m guilty of this as well. During my tenure in Japan, after being asked “what are you doing here anyway?” I would do a quick read of the room before I answered. To some I said merely,” I’m teaching conversational English”, to others I would give a quick laugh and say “What every other foreigner here is doing, teaching”, to some I would say “I work for the church”, and on days where I was feeling particularly bold I would admit, “I am a Lutheran Missionary”. Why did I feel the need to give separate answers depending on the group I was with? Fear of judgment? Fear of running into yet ANOTHER atheist and being torn apart for my faith, when all I wanted to do was finish my drink and go home? I admit sometimes I’m not as bold as I should be to announce and proclaim my faith, and that’s my issue. But I can’t help but be in awe of the call to prayer right now, as it’s so raw and real, albeit slightly off key, and ringing in my ears, but at least they are being honest and public about their faith.

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