Fimbo Publishing

An acquaintance of mine recently converted to Islam. I have no idea how or why, and I’m not intimate enough with this person to ask. I know that she recently lost someone very close to her, and that it made her sink into herself, shut our regular circle out, and probably question a lot of her deepest beliefs. I think it renewed her search for something she has never quite been able to find. I also believe that the person she lost was Muslim.

I feel that perhaps watching how the family coped with the loss may have helped her reach her decision. There is a certain peace that comes from sincere religion, and perhaps seeing such peace in a world where many religions, and especially Christianity, is largely empty shallow lip-service, may have made her realise what her own desires are.

I live in a town that is largely Muslim. I am curious about this religion, intrigued even, but I know very little about it. I know that a lot of its statutes have been misused and abused, and that in their genuine form, they are good and true. For example, I vaguely know that Koranic law is very specific about wives inheriting their husband’s property, and that when used justly, that inheritance law protects women.

I know that in its truest form, the buibui and hijab are intended to revere a woman’s modesty, and that keeping women separate in religious and social contexts is meant to protect her. I also know that misuse of this same separation has led to segregating women, limiting their experience and bringing unnecessary suspicion on them by the outside world. But I have always admired the idea behind it, the concept that the whole world sees black amorphous shrouded eyes, while in the sanctity of the bedroom, only her man can see how gorgeous she truly is. I think that’s beautiful.

I can see how Islam would appeal to anyone, true Islam. While I have never considered conversion, I do admire some aspects of this religion. Just like I admire some aspects of Hinduism, and Buddhism, and Judaism. I admire the devotion of its converts, the way their whole lives are incorporated in their faith, from their eating habits to their fashion sense. It’s something that we Christians lack.

I had a discussion today with my boss and a Muslim colleague. It’s Sunday morning, and they were lecturing me about my refusal to go to church. I am a believer, but I simply do not like church, so I don’t attend. These two gentlemen sought my reasons, then tried to talk me down. They didn’t succeed.

I was having another discussion with a good friend a few days back, where we were talking about the personal nature of my God, the way he is like a father and a friend, and the way he feels all the emotions that I do – anger, jealousy, love, pain, the whole lot. I told my friend that sometimes, this aspect of my God made me question the integrity of my faith. After all, the Greeks, Romans and Vikings invented gods that shared their emotions, the jealous Venus, the lustful Zeus, the proud Artemis, the stubborn Hercules. I wondered; if the human-like Greek gods are fake, what makes me think my human-like God is real?

He answered me with one word. Faith. But don’t Muslims, Jews, Animists, don’t they all have the same faith? Don’t they all feel that their God is the only true one, and that the rest of humanity is worshipping idols?

In my heart I know that I don’t really doubt, I am simply having rational arguments over an irrational matter. Faith is not something you can wrap around logic. There are things you can reason out, but at some point, reason stops and you simply choose to believe. It’s a beautiful moment.

I wish my friend godspeed in her new faith, and I am glad that it has given her the peace that she lacked, the same peace that I find daily in my own belief.