Allahu Akbar

Before I came to Indonesia, I didn’t know much about Islam. I had many Muslim friends and I admired them but we never had conversations about our respective religions. Since America is such a secular society, I guess talking about religion really is taboo. We don’t want to push our ideals of religion on others, because religion is something we practice individually. Our beliefs are our beliefs and often those who preach the values of their religion are seen as extremist, judgmental or conservative in their own right. In Western society, there is this idea that Muslim women are oppressed that they lack freedom. For me, I thought it was beautiful for a woman to choose to wear a hijab. It showed not only her confidence in her religion but also her confidence in herself and commitment I truly admired.

Islam is practiced in Arabic, the language of the Prophet Muhammad (Praise Be Upon Him). Judaism is practiced in Hebrew, the language of the early Jews and the Laws of Moses. Christianity is translated in thousands of languages across the globe, [which I think is] in part to the Apostles being touched by the flames of the Holy Spirit and given the ability to speak in tongues. I am a Catholic and I have this absurd privilege in my life to be able to say and participate in mass in 3 different languages (English, Sinhalese and Indonesian). The responses said in mass and the prayers recited are the same in any Catholic Church. There is a remarkable familiarity that I have and comfort that I feel when I enter a church and participate in mass. When I hold hands during the Our Father or shake hands in a symbol of giving peace to another’s neighbor. Just as those rituals feel familiar to me and coming from a country where most Christians recite their prayers in their mother tongue it is often difficult to understand how similar the prayers in our religions are, that perhaps they are not as foreign as we may think. 

Growing up on Staten Island and attending a private Catholic school, I lived a very sheltered life. My only religious exposure outside of Christianity had been to Buddhism, which I still really didn't understand in my youth. My only exposure to Judaism was when the orthodox Jews would ride in busloads to Clove Lakes Park and I’d play with the kids and marvel at the curls peaking from their kippahs (yarmulkes) and wonder why I was wearing jean shorts and a t-shirt while they were playing in fancy uniforms, yet even at that young age I had an admiration for their devotion to God. It wasn’t until I was 16 and doing a High School Leadership in Law program at Columbia University that I was exposed to people from all different religions and ethnicities from all over the country if not the globe. One of my closest friends was Dahoud, he was Muslim, and we often spoke about the admiration he had for his girlfriend. She was an intelligent, outspoken, independent Muslim woman; I later met her at a Model United Nations Conference where she took first place in almost every area. Also, during my time at Columbia, I met my first Jewish friends that weren’t orthodox. It was the first time I realized that all religions had orthodox and unorthodox sects. My friends that I made at Columbia were so similar to me, and yet for some reason before meeting them in my closed off bubble I had placed them in a world very different from my own because I didn’t yet understand the concepts that seemed so foreign to me. Although I had been exposed, what I didn’t realize is that although I was a minority in my own right, I was part of a religious majority, especially on Staten Island populated with Irish Catholic, Italian Catholics, Sri Lankan Catholics, Filipino Catholics, etc. It’s an island of Catholics, with a parish practically on every block. Although I had been exposed to other religions, I never really understood their intricacies or similarities. I slowly learned more as I had more Jewish friends in university, spent 3.5 years nannying for a Jewish family and was singing Hebrew children’s songs and doing pick-ups at Hebrew Day Care. The maternal grandparents of the kids were from Israel and the grandfather was a Holocaust survivor. Later when I moved to Australia, I was the live-in caretaker for a woman with early on-set Alzheimer’s. She was born in Romania and escaped to Israel during the Holocaust and in her 20s moved to Australia to raise her family. Judaism once again had found a place in my life.  So as a woman in my early 20s I had found familiarity with my own religion, with Buddhism, and with Judaism but the one religion which still felt foreign to me was Islam.

Islam seemed so far from my mental grasp because in my mind I had created a division that it was so far from my own. I think a part of it had to do with trauma from 9/11 and racial profiling that I blamed on Muslim extremists. I didn’t blame all of Islam; I couldn’t because I knew no religion is evil. Man manipulates religion and the divine in order to transcribe power unto themselves in the name of God. I simply only allowed myself to accept as much as I could to a point but I had a yearning to know more. When I accepted my invitation for Peace Corps Indonesia understanding and learning about Islam was significant for me. In my first 8 months, I had no contact with Christians or a church. I was turning to Islam in a way to fill a gap I felt in the absence of my own religious familiarity. I grew up in a very devout family, my parents were adamant about praying as a family. Every night we would get together and say a rosary together and before each decade we would read one of the mysteries of Jesus Christ that would adhere with the designated days of the week and right after each of us would say our thanks or praise for that day and we would start our respective decade of Hail Mary’s. When I was with my first host family, I noticed my host mother holding prayer beads and I excitedly, went to my room and showed her my rosary. We talked about the similarities of our prayer beads and it was one of the first ways we bridged a gap between our faiths.

During Ramadan, I fasted with my family and community. I prayed any chance I could whether it was large community gatherings or at school when we would break fast. Later I moved to a new host family and they were hosting a prayer meeting. My family is so very welcoming and tolerant. They told me I didn’t need to wear a veil. I wanted to because I didn’t want to be disrespectful, and they said people here need to learn tolerance too. They were willing to share their religion with me, without forcing me to conform to set standards. Sometimes during prayers I would sit with the women, and other times I would sit with the men. They told me it didn’t matter where I sat, just relax and be comfortable. As prayers ended, we brought out the food and as my host brother handed me my meal, he turned to me and said this is Islam. Real Islam is acceptance, tolerance, love and peace not the fundamentalist Islam you see in terrorism or misguided jihads. True Islam does not condone killing innocents. I found so much peace in my host brother’s words and the longer I have lived in Indonesia the more I have come to see how Islam is not far from my own Catholicism.

Allahu Akbar means God is Great. Prior to living in Indonesia the only time I would hear this is when it would be associated with extremist Muslims. Since living here, that cultural baggage I held with Islam no longer exists. Now, Allahu Akbar is what I think of when a friend of mine gives birth. Allahu Akbar is what I hear every time other members of Mahatma begin their breathing exercises. Allahu Akbar is something I too believe because I now understand its meaning and I know its context and it is familiar to me.

As-salaam alaykum is no longer foreign and abstract but familiar and sincere.

As-salaam alaykum         Peace be upon you

Wa rahmattulahi              and Allah’s mercy

Wa barakatuh                    and blessings

We say the same thing in mass:

Peace be with you – and with your spirit.

Alhamdulillah     Praise be to God

After the first and second readings from scripture, Catholics also respond:

Thanks be to God.

Mubarak              May Allah Bless You

Someone sneezes, we say “God Bless You” and people say May God Bless You on an almost daily basis, ironically especially politicians.

A Muslim prayer called talbiya, is a chant in response to God’s call:

Labayk!                                                Here I am at your service!

Allahumma labayk.                          At Your service, oh Lord.

Labayk.                                                 Here I am at your service.

La shareeka laka                               No partner do you have

Labayk                                                 Here I come

Innal hamda wan ni’mata             Praise indeed and blessings are yours

Laka wal mulk                                    And the dominion

La shareeka laka                               No partner do you have

This chant is strikingly familiar to a Christian hymn:

Here I am Lord

Is It I Lord? I have heard you calling in the night

I will go Lord if you need me

I will hold your people in my heart.

The act of wudu before prayer in Islam, where Muslims must wash themselves in order to be ritually pure is similar to how Christians are baptized to erase Original Sin. The same value can be placed on dipping our fingers in holy water and doing the sign of the cross when entering a church or holy place of worship.

After reading all these translations, reading them in English they no longer seem foreign or threatening. They are words, they are prayers and they are said in a different language. That is all. They are not scary.

As our world becomes more intertwined and small groups of fundamentalists come into power in different religions. We are left with majorities of followers who are just like you and me. They are not fundamentalist, they don’t condone what their misguided brothers or sisters may do, yet they too have been categorized unfairly. We all get categorized and judged unfairly based upon the views of a few that generate the most attention.

Look to others to discover your own humanity, to dispel your own ignorance and to find unity in a world that often only sees differences. Taking the opportunity to step out of our own comfort zone is how we learn the bounds of our own potential. If we don’t step out of the box, how will we ever expand it?

Jesus once said “The kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17:21). This resonates with me for many reasons, one of them being that we can’t look to others for our peace, happiness or spirituality. These intangible yet meaningful places of being are one we search for within ourselves just like Nirvana for Buddhists. Personal fulfillment, spiritual fulfillment these are things we can only know for ourselves. Some days I’m as Catholic as they come, other times I feel more agnostic; but finding peace and happiness within ourselves is more of a universal concept. You don’t need to believe in a supreme being to simply understand certain innate principles.

I am someone who looks inward to myself to further my personal growth and as strange as it seems; I do often feel that we have a higher calling. I’m still searching for my calling in this world and my place in this life, but this process of searching is why I challenge my own boundaries, my own ideas of normalcy and understand others in a way that helps me also learn more about myself and the bounds of my own faith.

The translations for these prayers as well as inspiration for this blog came from Asra Q. Nomani’s Standing Alone, which showed me a deeper connection to Islam that I was searching for to help in my processing of these past 2 years with my own experience with this religion. Finding the words is so difficult and yet reading her book helped me find the voice I needed.