As I have listened to the conversation, debate and grandstanding around the question of a Muslim community center and mosque being built in lower Manhattan, I’ve been struck by how much of the verbiage is rooted in fear. While people of sound mind and generous hearts may disagree on community center question, I keep hoping we might speak honestly and openly about all of our fears. All of us live with fears of all kinds, some of them rooted in fact and some of them rooted in emotionality that may be connected to previous experiences but probably not in facts. It’s one thing to fear flying because we know the plane we are in has lost power; it’s another to fear flying because someone we loved was killed in a plane crash many years ago. The latter fear is connected to our experience, but not in the truth of airline safety. The honest person works with that fear for what it is. While they may choose not to fly, they acknowledge that it is their own emotional issue. They do not accuse the airline industry of being unsafe or dangerous because they know thousands of people fly without incident every day.
It would be naïve to suggest that 9/11 doesn’t influence our thinking and/or experience of fear in this country. Some of us fear another attack, some of us fear attack from other Americans because of our religion or family background. Some of us fear the country is complacent and some fear over-reaction. Some of us fear we’ll be beholden to the events of 9/11 forever and some fear we’ll forget that day too soon.
What we need, it seems to me, is a forum for some honest conversation about our fears and how they impact our behavior and thinking. While we may be nervous about Islamic terrorism, to suggest that a Muslim cultural center in lower Manhattan is a threat to us denies the reality that there are already 20 mosques in that one borough alone. While we may not fully understand the Muslim faith, to suggest, or insinuate, that Islam is incompatible with being a good American denies the truth that the first building built specifically to be a mosque in the US appears to have been built in Ross, North Dakota in 1929. While you could question the sanity of people moving to northwestern ND in the 1920’s, you can’t question their longevity among us! To suggest, or insinuate that all Muslims are potential terrorists is to deny that even since 2000, more Muslims have been killed by Christians and Jews than the other way around. It also denies that every religion has a fanatical fringe that roots its violent and holy war rhetoric in religious symbols.
What I fear, more than radical and violent terrorists operating on the fringe of global Islam, is how hateful and fear based our rhetoric has become in this country since September 11. This hateful and fear based rhetoric has real consequences. For that reason, I’m also grateful for those who move through and beyond their initial fears to embrace a new, if different reality in their lives.
I’m grateful to religious clerics of all faiths who are seeking avenues to peaceful and bridge building dialogue and activity.
I’m grateful for families who are constantly learning to welcome and integrate ‘the other’ into their extended relations through marriage and adoption; whether it be a Southern, Bible belt Christian family welcoming a Muslim daughter in law or a Chinese American Buddhist family welcoming a blond Norwegian Lutheran Minnesotan into theirs. Each such act of acceptance builds important bridges.
I’m grateful for ESL teachers who are working hard to give non English speaking students the skills to succeed while honoring and respecting their heritage and ethnic background. I know that many of those teachers sat on the knees of their own grandmothers listening to stories of ancestors coming to this land with no language and no money. They hear stories about living in communities that supported each other, spoke their native tongue for at least a generation (be it German, Swedish, Italian, Polish, to name just a few), founded worship centers, schools, and businesses all because they believed in the American dream.
Perfect love, the letter to John says in the New Testament, casts out all fear. Perfect love means the love of God living in our hearts. We all struggle to balance love and fear. The role of the Christian community, it seems to me, is to create room for dialogue about our fears and our loves so that we can move more and more towards that God inspired, Spirit filled, action based love. I’m saddened that so many communities of faith – including Christian churches – are building walls of mistrust, fanning the fires of hatred and exclusivity and fear. While this fear bating may not be a new phenomenon, it is a riskier endeavor today than it has ever been. The gospel calls us to live in love. May we do so with honesty, humility and an openness to all of God’s people.
