Thirteen Short Conversations About Nothing

Hastily assembled, somewhat plagiarized, poorly constructed........

1) On being liberal or conservative - I am fortunate to have been formed by conservatives and forgiven by liberals. Embarrassed to vote Democrat, ashamed to vote Republican.

2) On being Catholic once (sort of) - I remember fighting with priests as a boy, convincing myself I was an atheist. Later, after meeting Father Bill Talentino in Virginia who was doing social just work, and a dozen or so other priests working in poor missions in third world countries, I lamented my diversion from spirituality and began to build the real foundation of my faith. I am not Catholic, but I am connected.

3) On leadership - It is all about the separation of my ego. Divorcing what is in my interest from that which benefits others, then leveraging the residual grit, stubbornness, and courage to fight the right battles. 

4) On friends - Few and far between, forever forgiven, forever familiar.

5) On alcohol and drugs - The epitome of our collective selfishness. The distillation of evil deemed disease to ease our guilt and to look past crime, child abuse, and despair. 

6) On change - There are two kinds of new people who "cause" trouble in a system: Those who bring it in and those who expose it once they arrive. 

7) On wisdom - The ability to recognize the value in things.

8) On serendipity - Like looking for a needle in a haystack and finding the farmer's daughter (Penthouse Magazine, circa 1970's).

9) On Misters Rauner and Trump - Bullies and sissy boys.

10) On Hillary Clinton - I once thought the evil press only published pictures of her frowning. Now I don't think I like that which lies underneath the frown.

11) On honesty - Too often confused with solipsistic convenience.

12) On aging - Ear hair grows faster than my IRA; I wake up with pains with no recollected attributable causes; I care far less for money and I find less things I want to waste said money on; and the notion of passing away before I change the world scares the heck out of me.

13) On love - I pray for reincarnation.............

Ramadan Night 23 - The Twelfth Entry

And they witnessed
(All) that they were doing
Against the believers.
And they ill-treated them
For no other reason than
That they believed in Allah,
Exalted in power,
Worthy of all praise!
S.85 A.7-8

I have made a new friend recently, and had I not talked to her recently, I would not have reacted to this verse as I did.  She is from Occupied Palestine, and has seen so much more misery and sorrow in her gentle years than I have in twice as many, even as I searched the world for it. I have never fancied myself a martyr, nor do I believe I have been persecuted for my faith - I have, however, been targeted and humiliated a few times by post-pubescent Israelis toting automatic weapons, whose boredom I abated as they taunted and insulted me.  On the odd occasion, I hear insensitive comments about Muslims and Islam, but I have not been singled out for a campaign of degradation and destruction. 

I talked in an earlier post about my admiration for those early converts to Islam who faced tremendous adversity, even death for their faith. Their courage and fortitude is a beautiful example of the strength and endurance Allah had blessed us with, humbling and shaming me for my trivial defeats. But there are modern day paragons amongst us, and sadly, their unmitigated sacrifices bleed out daily into the dry and dusty streets of Palestine and Gaza, while we watch indifferently secure in the knowledge that sand absorbs water and blood.

I have no means of measure to understand how these people, particularly the younger witnesses to this demiurgic genocide, keep their faith and their dignity, and miraculously a genuine desire for peace.  Unlike my friend, I have never been spat upon nor have I been made an alien in my own land. I have never been shackled and hamstrung, then had war declared upon me.  I have never been made the object of derision and scorn because of the faith I carry in my heart, the pride reflected in my eyes.  Perhaps it is only that pride their tormentors cannot abide, perhaps it is only that which they pine to replace with the brackish bile oozing from their hearts, unable to suffer the withering gaze of integrity. Perhaps they just want the eyes.

I pray for my friend, and the millions of others who purchase their faith and fidelity at such a high price, and I pray for myself, hoping that I will never face those trials, but if I do, I do so with such dignity and grace.  Most of all, I pray for the day when such decency need not be tempered and tested by so much enmity and hate.  

Ramadan Night 20 - The Fourth Entry

It is He Who sent
Down tranquility
Into the hearts of
The believers, that they may
Add faith to their faith;
For to Allah belong
The forces of the heavens
And the earth: and Allah is
Full of knowledge and wisdom.
S.48 A.4

There are two elements here that have caused me to contemplate faith and wisdom in different ways.  It amazes me how so few words can do that.  I am not sure if I am always interpreting things correctly, but it certainly has added a complexity to my thoughts about my faith - that can only be a good thing. And it is the balance of thought and faith that I want to address first.

"Adding faith to faith" intrigues me. I never thought about layers of faith, I assumed you either had it or you did not, and it was either strong or weak.  I also believed there was a difference between thought and faith, and that they sometimes were opposites. I never wanted to be someone who rushes off blindly to a cause or a faith, and I also never wanted to dismiss faith and spirituality because I could not  rationalize them. Now I have a different concept of the two, a more elaborate understanding.  As I grow nearer to God, do a better job on my path, my faith is rewarded, and the strength of my faith grows. As this happens, I learn to trust those things relegated to faith, and the process becomes easier, more natural.  This doesn't diminish my intellect or rational  faculties, it enhances them creating a intuitive intelligence that surpasses the cumulative properties of faith and thought alone.

The mention of God's wisdom in the final line, set me to thinking about the arrogance of man, particularly of the atheists among us.  I have written about them before (see the link below), but not in the strict context of wisdom.  I am sure that what I am trying to express now is old news to many, but this particular variation is new to me.  It occurred to me that an atheist, particularly an intelligent assertive atheist, might think himself/herself the wisest entity on the planet, therefor the whole universe for that matter. Imagine the implications of not having the counsel of someone wiser or more astute than yourself!  How would you grow? If you made a mistake, who would point it out?  Who would you be accountable to? If you failed, who would take care of the inevitable following the wisest person in the world would attract?  Surely these sages have seen the terrible legacies of history's doomed demagogues!  Finally, imagine the petty intellect that would desire no succor, need no expression of fealty or faith, no source of forgiveness.  It is simply unfathomable to me.

http://philosopherking-michael.blogspot.com/2011/05/my-response-to-hitchens-maher-and-other.html

Forging Faith

My faith has been forged - it was not adopted, inherited, or romantically embraced, it was forged. The process took nearly half a century, after a few false starts, lots of petulant battles with Catholic priests, a misguided infatuation with the Baha'i faith, and a great deal of honest introspection. It fits so perfectly now, that I wonder if I had to be where I was, when I was, to accept it. This is not a good thought perhaps. Am I asking if Islam (or any other faith for that matter) was inappropriate for me before this time? Not very theistic! Is this an arrogant, anthropomorphic manipulation of religious doctrine? Should I have always been a Muslim, ready in my mind or not? These are questions that confront me now, not when I ponder simply living my faith, but when I contemplate my need/duty/desire to share it with others, especially my daughters.
Perhaps I had the wrong question in my mind all along. For I had been asking for something to decipher the world around me, rather than explaining what was inside me. The source of this answer I sought was not limited to religion; I queried history, logic, philosophy, and psychology for my Rosetta Stone. And until I was able and willing to look inside, nothing would have been sensible or cogent. I didn't need a faith that explained my occasional bad fortune, the misery of others, the mystical vagaries of the universe - I needed insight into myself.
My cousin and I had a very brief chat tonight about his ongoing literature project with his son. They read poetry and Shakespeare together. I asked him if his son had the schema necessary to "get it." I also wondered aloud if he really wanted his son to ever have some of the experiences needed to truly relate to some of those themes (having in mind the tragedies). He replied that there were other benefits, e.g. language, rhythm, syntax, grammar, and that his son would return to "it" later when he was ready to appreciate the context. I liked that, something to return to. I don't think I ever had something to return to. I think the sheer fact that I never had a faith to come back to is the precise reason I would share my own now. For if salvation is the like the context that cannot be appreciated by a child, then prayer, normalcy,etiquette, and morality are the language, rhythm, syntax, and grammar, the internal leaven that under gird the possibility, nay probability of building an internal, sturdy domicile, forever yours, forever home. Something to come back to.
At the risk of entangling myself in too many metaphors, my "home" was never built, and ironically, I never lived in a house that I or my family owned until I was thirty-five, the first house I bought myself. So yes, in many ways I have had nothing to come back to until the birth of my daughters, the realization of my faith. I have given my two girls a permanent literal home, but I did not help them with their figurative shelter.
Even more sobering (something I have been unable to say frequently since converting) is that I am not sure I would have done a good job with my daughters if I had converted decades ago. It has been my observation, that we as parents, often seek to shelter our children from the very experiences that helped forge our own faith, the very anguish that often creates context. We pray they need not be driven to the brink in order to turn back to the path. We may pray they avert these heartbreaks, but we know otherwise. Perhaps that is the best argument for the other benefits my cousin talked about, something to come back to when the tempest rages in.
My answer to the question lost somewhere in this fustian is that I will share my faith, in anyway for anyone seeking sanctuary from their spiritual homelessness. I will also share more and more of the serene and beautiful stability I have embraced with my daughters as they make their way in their worlds, forging their faith.