Having just heard that there will be a group of anti-gay folks exercising their constitutional rights on my campus Monday, I am preparing myself for the inevitable arguments my personal reaction will engender from the atheists and theists in my lebenswelt. For the purposes of this post, I will stick to the atheist logic I will endure.
As a Muslim, I might surprise some by need to support our Gay and Lesbian students on campus Monday against these bullies. Yes bullies! The same sort that hang out at abortion clinics and "protest" the most vulnerable. Years ago, driving down a street in Akron I saw a small protest near a non-descript building. I saw a group of men encircling a woman with signs and what I perceived to be threatening gestures. I stopped and pulled over and sprinted over to the scene. Half-way there I realized it was the Planned Parenthood Center, and who the protesters were. I squared off with the first one that made eye contact with me and called him a coward. This seemed to startle him. He attempted to engage me in a discussion (much less animated however in the presence of someone who might be able to defend himself). I kept my composure and repeated my slander, asking why he and his brave friends didn't go down the street to picket a crack house. By that time his comrades had joined him and we had some more words. In the meantime, the woman (a nurse, doctor, patient, friend, I didn't know) had left. I didn't rush into the scene to defend abortion, or even the woman being badgered by the men - I reacted to a decades old loathing for bullies, a disdain I had earned with blood and broken bones.
When I show support in these type of circumstances, the non-believers I meet are quick to point out the discrepancy between my stance and the tenets of my faith. I have two reactions to this: first, I am not sure how my faith, or any other, would allow for the victimization of the vulnerable or less powerful (at least in the context of the moment) for any reason. This vituperative bullying belies any compassionate belief. Two, I look into the eyes of my questioner and realize that this person believes I cannot hold a faith or philosophy unless I subscribe to every detail, every commandment, every principle perfectly. Looking deeper, I realize why they demand this concrete concordance - the only doctrine they worship is their own, and of course, they form their own solipsistic solidarity. To them, anything that doesn't make perfect and constant sense, or that doesn't fit their current or long-term goals is rejectionable. Their selfish logic makes the possibility of a shared faith impossible, and they ride cheaply on the moral back of a society built by faith and selflessness. I make sacrifices for my faith, and my faith is patient with me as I sort things out.
So Monday, as a Muslim, I will look to support my colleagues, friends, and students against a hate group that would prey (not pray) on them in the very sanctuary I would give my life to defend. I haven't spent my life teaching and advocating to turn a college campus into a place where good people fear to go. Call this Jihad or The Good Fight, I really don't care.
As a Muslim, I might surprise some by need to support our Gay and Lesbian students on campus Monday against these bullies. Yes bullies! The same sort that hang out at abortion clinics and "protest" the most vulnerable. Years ago, driving down a street in Akron I saw a small protest near a non-descript building. I saw a group of men encircling a woman with signs and what I perceived to be threatening gestures. I stopped and pulled over and sprinted over to the scene. Half-way there I realized it was the Planned Parenthood Center, and who the protesters were. I squared off with the first one that made eye contact with me and called him a coward. This seemed to startle him. He attempted to engage me in a discussion (much less animated however in the presence of someone who might be able to defend himself). I kept my composure and repeated my slander, asking why he and his brave friends didn't go down the street to picket a crack house. By that time his comrades had joined him and we had some more words. In the meantime, the woman (a nurse, doctor, patient, friend, I didn't know) had left. I didn't rush into the scene to defend abortion, or even the woman being badgered by the men - I reacted to a decades old loathing for bullies, a disdain I had earned with blood and broken bones.
When I show support in these type of circumstances, the non-believers I meet are quick to point out the discrepancy between my stance and the tenets of my faith. I have two reactions to this: first, I am not sure how my faith, or any other, would allow for the victimization of the vulnerable or less powerful (at least in the context of the moment) for any reason. This vituperative bullying belies any compassionate belief. Two, I look into the eyes of my questioner and realize that this person believes I cannot hold a faith or philosophy unless I subscribe to every detail, every commandment, every principle perfectly. Looking deeper, I realize why they demand this concrete concordance - the only doctrine they worship is their own, and of course, they form their own solipsistic solidarity. To them, anything that doesn't make perfect and constant sense, or that doesn't fit their current or long-term goals is rejectionable. Their selfish logic makes the possibility of a shared faith impossible, and they ride cheaply on the moral back of a society built by faith and selflessness. I make sacrifices for my faith, and my faith is patient with me as I sort things out.
So Monday, as a Muslim, I will look to support my colleagues, friends, and students against a hate group that would prey (not pray) on them in the very sanctuary I would give my life to defend. I haven't spent my life teaching and advocating to turn a college campus into a place where good people fear to go. Call this Jihad or The Good Fight, I really don't care.
it is not easy to do the right thing, but that waht makes it worth the fight.... Go Go Go Mike
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