Worldly Holiness

I’ve just been grabbed by Miroslav Volf’s new title. Allah: A Christian Response. He mentions in his introduction that Muslims and Christians together comprise more than half of the world’s population. Furthermore, most scholars agree that both these religions will continue to grow in numbers in the near future. He penned the following words before the upheaval in the Middle East so I’d say Volf is incredibly prophetic as well. He writes, “equally significant, as the democratic ideal spreads and takes deeper root, Christianity and Islam are likely to assert themselves even more vigorously in public arenas worldwide.” p. 1. So the question that comes to mind: “Which face of either religion will show up?” History and modern day events seem to give examples that have the potential to take us in very different directions, up or down, negative or positive.

Volf also notes we live in a world more interconnected and interdependent with rapidly diminishing natural resources. I’m thinking of how the news of an incident of the slap on the face of a fruit seller in Tunisia led to what we are seeing across the Middle East and how social networking has helped fuel and speed up the process of public opinion. I also observe that the turmoil in Libya has raised the price at the gas pump by 11 cents per gallon in about a week’s time. Volf suggests much of this will multiply the occasions for conflict between Muslims and Christians. I haven’t read deep enough into this new book to pull out Volf’s solution to the problem but he has teased me already with something that supports my thoughts on the same topic. We need to find “ways for Christians and Muslims to be true to their convictions about God and God’s commands, while living peacefully and constructively together under the same political roof.” p. 14. Os Guiness similarly believes this is THE greatest challenge in the 21st century. Check out his lecture at the Global Faith Forum last October here: Os Guinness, Friday Afternoon Keynote.

So my evening in front of the fireplace with a light snow falling outside will be rich. I think I’m still thawing out from my hike yesterday with Bradley.

It was Cold on Tiger Yesterday

Tags: "Christian Response" "Book notes" "Christian--Muslim relations", Allah, Volf

Students at Centro Hispano de Estudios Teologicos

This month I just finished teaching my second of 3 modules at CHET, our Hispanic Seminary in Los Angeles. Its a short plane trip from Seattle and gives me an escape from the rain for a few days! My brain has begun to hurt on day 3 each month because of my concentration. I haven’t used my Spanish this much since our days serving in Mexico in the 90′s. Could it be that long ago?

The students have been wonderful, are eager to learn and engage Muslims. We all are looking forward to our trip to the mosque next month as we go deeper and make friends with our Muslim neighbors, demonstrating the love of Christ. This month I hinted that my students probably “get it” more than me when interacting with Muslims and the Arabic language. I have Scandinavian ancestry and grew up Anglo after all.

Historically, I knew Spain was a huge intersection between Hispanic and Arabic cultures because of the Moors. I just didn’t know how much influence was reflected in the Spanish language. It’s fascinating. Below is a beginning list of words in Spanish that derive from Arabic. Here is an article that tells more of the story. If you’re a Spanish speaker you will find the list below interesting. Pray with me as we step into a mosque and relationships with Muslims in California. It’s exciting to play a role in helping a cross section of the church engage Muslims!

aceite — oil
adobe — adobe
aceituna — olive
aduana — customs (as at a border)
ajedrez — chess
Alá — Allah
alacrán — scorpion
albacora — albacore
albahaca — basil
alberca — tank, swimming pool
alcade — mayor
álcali — alkali
alcade — mayor
alcatraz — pelican
alcázar — fortress, palace
alcoba — bedroom, alcove
alcohol — alcohol
alfil — bishop (in chess)
alfombra — carpet
algarroba — carob
algodón — cotton
algoritmo — algorithm
alquimia — alchemy
almacén — storage
almanaque — almanac
almirante — admiral
almohada — pillow
alquiler — rent
alquimia — alchemy
añil — indigo
amalgama — amalgam
arroba — @ symbol
arroz — rice
asesino — assassin
atún — tuna
ayatolá — ayatollah
azafrán — saffron
azar — chance
azúcar — sugar
azul — blue (same source as English “azure”)
barrio — district
berenjena — eggplant
balde — bucket
burca — burqa
café — coffee
cero — zero
chivo — billy goat
cifra — cifra
Corán — Koran
cuscús — couscous
dado — die (singular of “dice”)
espinaca — spinach
fez — fez
fulano — what’s-his-name
gacela — gazelle
guitarra — guitar
hachís — hashish
harén — harem
hasta — until
imán — imam
islam — Islam
jaque — check (in chess)
jaque mate — checkmate
jirafa — giraffe
laca — lacquer
lila — lilac
lima — lime
limón — lemon
loco — crazy
macabro — macabre
marfil — marble, ivory
masacre — massacre
masaje — massage
máscara — mask
mazapán — marzipan
mezquita — mosque
momia — mummy
mono — monkey
muslim — muslim
naranja — orange
ojalá — I hope, God willing
olé — bravo
paraíso — paradise
ramadán — Ramadan
rehén — hostage
rincón — corner, nook
sandía — watermelon
sorbete — sherbet
sofá — sofa
rubio — blond
talco — talc
tamarindo — tamarind
tarea — task
tarifa — tariff
tártaro — tartar
taza — cup
toronja — grapefruit
zafra — harvest
zanahoria — carrot
zumo — juice

Every week I receive a standardized email from Jawad, inviting me to featured events relevant to Muslims in the greater Seattle area. He also includes specific programs in his mosque, a schedule from their center’s website to help everybody keep track of what’s going on. The regular email is a nice way to keep in rhythm with the Muslim community I’m building relationships with as a follower of Christ. It’s an invitation to visit. I have an open door in Jawad’s mosque.

Here are some of their activities: There is a philosophy study circle. I’ve been to that. On Fridays before the evening program and Isha prayers there is a Qur’anic Arabic class. I’ve been to that too and have been invited to contribute to discussions following the text in the Qur’an. On Thursdays, there is a ladies yoga class. I’ve missed that one for some reason. They also have a Sunday School program on, you guessed it, Sunday mornings. That’s mostly for children and youth. Last Friday, I witnessed the entire SS, class by class from kindergarten through high school, feature a program celebrating the birth of Muhammad in 570 AD. That was fascinating. I learned about the year of the Elephant, sura 105, and how a Christian tribe from Yemen tried to overtake the Kaaba in the year of Muhammad’s birth. I also heard “insha’allah” probably a hundred times by the program director as he sought to control the enthusiasm of the children while they waited to perform in front of the packed house. It felt like the year end Sunday School programs I used to participate in growing up in my home church.

Several weeks ago, the standardized email caught my eye. Jawad was inviting those on his list to a special lecture by Tariq Ramadan. [see an interview in the Seattle Times, and interview on KCTS, the local PBS station]. If you don’t know who that is you should do some research. He is an important voice today, a Muslim many consider to be the Martin Luther of Islam, a reformer asking tough questions of both Islam and the postmodern, secular, post Christian West, especially in Europe where he lives when not traveling. I read the invitation while sitting in worship at the Covenant MidWinter conference in Chicago, wondering if we would escape Chicago’s 3rd worst blizzard in history. I was told the lecture would be in Seattle the following Saturday. Jawad was hosting Tariq.

Immediately I wrote Jawad and said I’d try to be there. I also wrote Carol, my wife, asking if she’d like to join me. It was hosted by Seattle University, her Alma Mater. Saturday came, I made it out of Chicago, Carol and I went to the lecture and were spellbound for about an hour as we heard cutting edge thinking on what it means to live with “the other,” the religiously different, the atheist, agnostic or whatever, as a person of faith in our modern world. I went up to greet Jawad, my friend who was hosting Tariq. He leaped up to greet me and proceeded to introduce me to Tariq. “This is Andy Larsen, blah, blah, blah.” Then I heard Jawad say something that about knocked me off my feet. He called me an “evangelical man of peace!”

I hope I’m not bragging. Too much. I just have to say, Jawad’s comments meant a lot to me. I want to be a man of peace. That’s my goal. I believe that is what we are called to by Christ. It is needed today in our world perhaps more than ever, across all relationships and communities. Muslims and Christians need that in each other when we interact. That’s what I look for when I visit a mosque. I seem to be finding them a lot these days by the way. I hope that’s what Muslims see in us.

Luke 10:5-7 “When you enter a house, first say, ‘Peace to this house.’ If a man of peace is there, your peace will rest on him; if not, it will return to you. Stay in that house, eating and drinking whatever they give you, for the worker deserves his wages. Do not move around from house to house.”

By Still Waters

“If solitude were primarily an escape from a noisy milieu, they could easily become very self-centered forms of asceticism. But solitude and silence are for prayer. The Desert Fathers did not think of solitude as being alone, but as being alone with God.” – Henri Nouwen

Whew! What a time away from the noise of life to reflect in the desert. I’m about a month away from a significant, if seemingly impractical, retreat spending someone else’s money to be silent, alone [for the most part] and renewed. The site for my retreat was the high desert in the northwest corner of New Mexico, a Benedictine monastery which is home to about 30 monks who have committed to the monastic life, the vows of silence, chastity, simplicity, poverty and prayer. Not many who do that these days.

Needless to say, the time was very rich and slow. I spent a lot of time being quiet, looking at the ants, listening to the birds, watching the clouds, praying and journaling. And of course I took long walks with my camera in hand. I was fortunate to receive a grant through the Covenant Church funded by the Lilly foundation in an effort to help pastors stay healthy, committed to excellence in ministry and connected to God. I was more than ready for this focused time in silence and solitude. Over the next few weeks I want to tell part of the story, part of my discovery and learning, and the deeper awareness of God’s love and generosity.

I feel I have a lot to share from my time of silence, which is ironic don’t you think? The Psalms became more real–again. The raw, human side that splashes out of the Psalms of lament especially. As a daily companion, the Psalms keep me honest. I cannot kid myself about the depth of my own feelings over life’s difficult pieces or the purity of my own heart when I regularly sit with them. These ancient passages in the middle of my Bible are so real and I’m glad, very glad they are in my sacred scripture. No pretense, not white-washed religiosity; plenty of passion, vulnerability, and awareness of God’s presence and sometimes his seeming absence in life. My concluding observation in this first reflection–God IS aware, and we CAN NOT be aware of that unless we stop, listen, and be silent sometimes.