US: A Christian Journey to the Ahmadiyya Muslim Communitys Jalsa Salana I will never forget the first time I heard of the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community. I was visiting the Dayton (Ohio) International Peace Museum with my Christian seminary class last January, taking in all of the impressive exhibits that told stories of peacemaking across the globe, when a pamphlet caught my eye. It was titled, “Muslims for Peace,” and had a striking picture of a dove in flight on the cover. Curious, I quickly opened the pamphlet and read the heading, “Love For All ~ Hatred For None,” and scanned down and read the verse from The Holy Qur’an: “Whosoever killed a person… It should be as if he had killed all mankind.” (5:33) Suddenly all of the exhibits in the peace museum retreated to the background and the sounds of people talking and moving about became a far-away muffle. I closely examined the photograph in the pamphlet of Hadrat Mirza Ghulam Ahmad, the Promised Messiah (as), and was struck by how his eyelids looked as if he were receiving divine revelation, half-open in this world and half-open in the next. I then read his declaration that aggressive jihad has no place in Islam, and how he taught his followers to instead wage a bloodless “jihad of the pen” to defend their faith. Everything was moving fast in those moments and my senses were acutely heightened. As a student of Mahatma Gandhi, Abdul Gaffar Khan and other nonviolent teachers, and as a follower of Allah, the All-Compassionate, the AMC’s orientation toward peace and concern for creation resonated deeply with my own path of nonviolence and compassionate living, which I try to walk daily. Staring at that pamphlet, I felt intuitively that I was holding something unusual, or a key to something sacred, and that the Ahmadiyya Muslims were kindred souls. I knew that I would leave the peace museum that day and make contact with the AMC in Dayton and, if possible, make a journey as a Christian across religious lines to their mosque and the AMC tradition. I could hardly think of anything else. But I still struggled with whether or not it would be appropriate for a Christian to ask his Muslim brothers if he could worship with them at their mosque. I finally overcame my reluctance and called the Fazl-e-Umar Mosque in Dayton and left a message. It was not long before I received a call back from Dr. Abdul Shahid. I felt almost immediately that I was talking to a kindred spirit, and he not only graciously invited me to mosque, but he also invited me and my fellow seminarians to an upcoming conference called “Muhammad (sa) The Messenger of Peace.” And that is where something completely unexpected happened. On a cold, sleety night, during the recitation of The Holy Qur’an in Arabic in a room packed with Ahmadiyya and friends, tears just poured out of my eyes uncontrollably. I have no knowledge of the Arabic language and it was the first time I had ever heard The Holy Qur’an recited. But I felt a wave of warm energy pour over me during the recitation that night and the tears kept flowing down my face until my shirt collar was soaked. I just sat there drenched, without moving so much as a twitch, wondering if I should get up and leave, but finally surrendering to what felt like the spirit of Allah surrounding me. It is still hard for me to articulate in words what I had experienced, but it was close to a heightened awareness of oneness with the divine and everyone who was in the room that evening. When the conference was over that night, I felt more led than ever to go to mosque. So I began going to Friday prayer at Fazl-e-Umar Mosque whenever I could (I live about forty minutes away in Richmond, Indiana), where I experienced warmth, hospitality and fellowship not to mention the love of Allah through the AMC. Although I am a Christian, there was something so familiar about being in a mosque, even like it was a spiritual home. I have also been deeply moved by the act of prostration before Allah in worship. We Christians generally pray and worship while in a sitting position, or standing, and sometimes on our knees. But to fully prostrate oneself before Allah as Muslims do, with ones face on the carpet, or on the earth, seemed to represent for me a more profound act of surrender and humility of spirit. There is also something indescribably beautiful about the rhythm of moving and prostrating together as a community, side-by-side, in unity, offering our collective hearts and prayers to the Creator. Dr. Shahid, always so kind and gracious, soon invited me to the upcoming 65th Jalsa Salana in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. I felt so blessed to go and could hardly think of anything else the week leading up to Jalsa. Together we rode from Dayton to Harrisburg, and for much of the journey Dr. Shahid shared with me his deep insight and knowledge of Islam and the Ahmadiyya tradition. I felt like I had a private tutor on this exciting trip. I was deeply grateful as I listened intently, trying to understand and soak up as much as I could. We also chatted about reaching out to the greater Dayton community together to create a space for interfaith dialogue and relationship building. Shortly after arriving at Jalsa, I was amazed by the thousands of people gathered together to fellowship for three days, who were there simply to be together, conversing, laughing, embracing and sharing. The rich diversity reminded me of a global village with so many ethnicities and cultures represented, with different styles of dress and head coverings, yet all coming together as one in fellowship. Dr. Shahid described it as a rich celebration of life, and indeed that is exactly what it seemed to be. I had never experienced such a large gathering of people who had come together across long distances to meet and fellowship, to be inspired and nurtured spiritually, and to worship and remember their Creator as a collective. My denomination of Christianity is the Church of the Brethren, and we are one of the historic and hopefully contemporary peace churches. While I see many similarities between Brethren and Ahmadiyya, we generally only come together in large numbers at our yearly conference to take care of denominational business. This is true of most other Christian denominations as well. I believe the Ahmadiyya may be unique in that you set aside a time and space to come together with no other agenda but to be together in friendship and humility. We Christians could learn a lot from Ahmadiyya, the most important being that coming together as one body simply to be together is a spiritual as well as human event and it is even more important for the progress and health of the church and community than business decisions. I was also amazed that the functioning of Jalsa was completely made possible by volunteers, from scanning our badges to cooking and serving meals to setting up for speakers and worship. And it was inspiring how the children and young people, smiling and with a gentleness of spirit, were involved as volunteers. They moved around the convention hall like butterflies, sensitive to the needs of those attending, offering bottles of water, instructions, and other service. Throughout my time at Jalsa, Dr. Shahid was the embodiment of hospitality, and I am deeply grateful for his friendship. He took me under his wing and made sure that I was having the most “amazing cultural experience” possible, explaining so much to me about customs, food and prayer. The love he has for Islam and the AMC was infectious, so much so that I wanted to always know more and attempt to catch a glimpse of what brought his heart such joy. Dr. Shahid never tired of introducing me to his Ahmadiyya family and I enjoyed meeting every single Ahmadiyya. There was Ataul-Wahid, the dynamic Director of Disaster Response of Humanitarian First Canada. He told me all about the suffering and heartache in Oklahoma, the almost indescribable destruction and loss that he witnessed. There was also a man whose name I did not get–I only remember his kind eyes and easy smile– who told me that after the Sikh Temple shooting in Oak Creek, Wisconsin his Ahmadiyya mosque in nearby Milwaukie prepared 2,000 sandwiches and rushed them to the traumatized Sikh community to feed them and to let them know that they had support. I was also deeply moved by a compassionate young man named Zyke, I believe, who was raising money to help with a disaster relief effort through Humanity First. As I listened, observed, and participated, as I looked into the faces of so many Ahmadiyya, I thought about the heart wrenching stories that I had read of Ahmadiyya persecution all over the globe, particularly in Pakistan: the unabashed violation of human rights, the shootings and bombings, the burning of mosques and the loss of innocent life. At one point I recalled the story that Dr. Shahid had shared with me on the way to Jalsa about his shock and hurt the first time he encountered slurs and insults from other Muslims when he was a child, simply because he was Ahmadiyya. I also met two Croatian Muslims who immigrated here from Bosnia where Muslims suffered unimaginable horrors during a campaign of genocide in the early-1990s. Hopefully the Church of the Brethren, along with other sensitive yet courageous Christian denominations, will be more active in standing by your side not only here in America, but also in other countries, including in Pakistan. Together perhaps we can create awareness and understanding and reduce persecution and violence. I was also moved by all of the Ahmadiyya speakers and their love for Allah and the Ahmadiyya Community, including Waseem Syed’s talk on the impressive growth of Ahmadiyyat worldwide, and the powerful messages on Islamic guidance for strengthening the family and prospering youth. And I was inspired by the guest speakers, including the heartfelt praise and recognition of the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community from Congressman Frank Wolf (VA), the recipient of the AMC Humanitarian Award, and from guests such as Mayor Linda Thompson, the first African American mayor of Harrisburg. She declared: “You are a bridge to the world in these times!” And Dr. Katrina Lantos Swett of Tufts University in Boston: “The Ahmadiyya Muslim Community cares not about its own needs, but the needs of humanity.” On Sunday morning I managed to roll out of bed at 3:30am (which is a miracle for me!), jump in my car and make it to 4am Congregational Tahajjud Prayer. There was something deeply moving about participating in this prayer with so many others, surrounded by the darkness, silence and stillness of the world outside of the convention hall, and in that humble quiet of our own minds and hearts before the buzz of the day began. For me, I felt an unusual closeness to Allah in those early hours, praying and prostrating before Him. While I did not know the Arabic words of the Tahajjud Prayer, I still felt a spiritual energy and sense of reverence from the beautiful harmonious rhythm of the Arabic words and prostrating movements. There is so much more that I am still processing, but I will end by saying that the food at Jalsa was awesome! I am Scot-Irish/Greek, so I do not get to eat much South Asian and Middle Eastern food (only when visiting my Indian and Persian friends back in Virginia). I am now on the search for Kulfi, which I describe as a mouthful of celebration, and Paan. How do I describe Paan to my family and friends? All I know is that I now crave Kulfi and Paan daily, and taste it in my dreams. Thank you Dr. Abdul Shahid, the Fazl-e-Umar Mosque in Dayton, and the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community for your generosity and hospitality, and for allowing me to touch your beautiful tradition and faith. I deeply feel that the AMC is a unique and special community. Your message of peace and active concern for creation, your devotion to Allah and his world, is desperately needed in our world today. I hope that I can continue to be a close friend to the Ahmadiyya Muslim Community.
Posted on: Tue, 11 Mar 2014 03:39:24 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015