Black Muslims' Enduring Legacy in the Americas

In St. Philip parish, on the easternmost tip of Barbados, there is a small, one-room, yellow and green “musalla.” With chipped, white wooden shutters, the prayer space looks like a mix between a chattel house and a beach kiosk, with accents of Islamic architectural flair.

Said to have been built by a local Black convert by the name of Shihabuddin at the front of his family residence, the room can fit six, maybe seven prayer rugs. Alongside four mosques, an academy, a research institute and a school, Shihabuddin’s musalla continues to act as a site of community connection for Muslims in the Caribbean island nation, despite Shihabuddin’s passing.

When one thinks of global Islam’s “representative sites,” as literary scholar Aliyah Khan calls them, images of grand mosques and significant shrines in Saudi Arabia, Palestine, Mali or Pakistan might immediately come to mind. And well they should. Yet, to overlook places such as Shihabuddin’s musalla — and other Islamic centers across the Caribbean, Latin America, the U.S. and Canada — as nodes in Islam’s worldwide networks would be to do a vast disservice to the numerous Muslims who call the hemisphere home.

In particular, it would be to sideline the significance of Black Muslims like Shihabuddin.

Beginning with the first Muslim to arrive with the Spanish in the 16th century, Black Muslims have been part of the American story, navigating enslavement, inequality and numerous other misrepresentations and marginalizations in the region for 500 years.

Today, their enduring legacy influences tens of thousands of Muslims across the region and around the globe.

ReligionLink: Seven religion stories for 2022

When I met Mary Gladstone, ReligionLink’s Assistant Editor, back in 2012 I knew that someday I wanted to help put the publication together.

Why? Because ReligionLink is the ultimate resource for journalists reporting on religion.

A service of the Religion News Association and its Foundation, the monthly newsletter delivers free tools and tips for writing about religion with balance, accuracy and insight. Our source guides and story ideas provide insight into headlines on specific faiths and topics from around the world.

Ten years later, I am proud to announce that I am ReligionLink’s new Editor!

Now, I’ll be part of putting together comprehensive source guides and story ideas on the most timely and controversial issues in religion and ethics.

For my first edition, I tried my hand at a bit of religion news “prophecy.”

From The New York Times to The Economist, pundits and news “prophets” have been predicting that 2022 will be the year of “adjusting to new realities.” This not only means adjustments in daily life, but broader shifts in politics and technology, economics and, of course, religion. 

My first edition of ReligionLink explores seven issues that may deserve attention this year, including resources and potential sources to help you cover them:

• Democracy, autocracy and … aliens

• Major SCOTUS decisions

• Endemic religion

• Religious communities and climate change

• The continuing rise of “spirit tech”

• Religious economies

• International sporting events and human rights

The activists safeguarding sacred sites across the globe

During an interview in September 2021, Anas Alabbadi, Deputy Director for KAICIID’s Programmes Department, was distracted by a news notification that flashed across his screen: German police had just prevented an attack on a synagogue in Hagen, a city just east of Düsseldorf, Germany.

Having witnessed the devastation of the synagogue attack in the eastern German city of Halle in 2019, Alabbadi was struck again by how events like these underscored the emphasis KAICIID places on supporting and encouraging projects that promote the protection of religious sites.

“We believe, in accordance with the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, that people everywhere must be allowed to practice their faith in peace,” he said, “that religious sites and all places of worship and contemplation should be safe havens, not sites of terror or bloodshed.”

Across the globe, attacks on houses of worship and sacred sites are on the rise.

For example, the United States Conference of Catholic Bishops reported in July 2020 that there were 97 attacks on churches in the U.S. since May 2020 alone.

Elsewhere last April, the walls of a mosque in the French city of Rennes were defaced with Islamophobic graffiti. In August 2021, a Hindu temple was ransacked in the remote town of Bhong in the eastern Pakistani province of Punjab.

The list, as they say, could go on and on.

Noting that religious sites are of such significance that it makes them particularly endangered, Alabbadi said, “we want to make sure to protect religious sites so that they can continue to be facilitators of positive peace.”

Photo by Varun Pyasi via Unsplash.

Safeguarding Sacred Sites From Indonesia To Algeria

Given the global scope of the issue, KAICIID is actively providing support to projects to protect places of worship from Africa to Asia, Europe to the Middle East.

When the United Nations Alliance of Civilizations (UNAOC) started the process of developing an action plan for reacting to the increase in attacks on religious sites after the bloodshed at mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand in 2019, KAICIID provided immediate support. KAICIID’s background research included supplying quotes from religious texts for the preamble, information on UNESCO’s work on the preservation of religious sites, and recommendations on the prevention of attacks under UNESCO’s purview.

The result was the “Plan of Action to Safeguard Religious Sites.” According to its preamble, the plan “is a global call to rally around our most basic tenets of humanity and solidarity and to reaffirm the sanctity of all religious sites and the safety of all worshippers who visit houses of worship in a spirit of compassion and respect.”

For Alabbadi, the Plan of Action’s greatest strength lies in its systematic approach to the problem and focus on prevention and response.

“The emphasis is on education, countering hate speech – including on social media – and being prepared to provide care and support when an attack happens,” Alabbadi said.

“Translating such recommendations requires better collaboration between policymakers and religious actors,” he said, “religious actors have a lot to contribute in developing and implementing policies related to the protection of scared sites.”

To that end, over the last two years KAICIID supported projects in the Arab region bringing together peace education and the protection of sacred sites. These projects included the development of a mobile app in Algeria and youth trainings in Tunisia.

In Indonesia, KAICIID organised the 2019 “Jakarta Conference” with the Organisation for Islamic Cooperation (OIC), bringing together religious leaders and policymakers from across Southeast Asia to discuss challenges and opportunities for protecting holy sites. 

The result was the “Jakarta Statement: Together for Diversity — Dialogue in Action,” which included a collective pledge to recognise, preserve, and protect “sites of worship and spiritual heritage and allowing worshippers to use them in peace and harmony.”

Photo by Rohan Reddy via Unsplash.

Reaffirming The Sanctity Of Sacred Sites In Africa

In Africa, KAICIID partnered with the African Union to support 12 projects organised by members of its Interfaith Dialogue Forum (AU-IFDF) specifically focused on the protection of sacred sites.

Agustin Nunez, KAICIID’s Senior Programme Manager for the Africa Region, said the AU’s main theme for 2021 is the promotion of cultural heritage, including the protection of sacred sites.

The partnership, he said, is meant to bring both religious and community actors to the policymaking table “to raise awareness and advocate for the development of regional mechanisms in Africa” to do so.

Among the projects is one in Djibouti where KAICIID-supported religious leaders, elders, youth, CSOs, and NGOs are working together to build a platform to collaborate in preserving and restoring local religious assets. Chief among their priorities is the preservation of holy sites in the eastern African nation.

Not only do such projects contribute concretely to the protection of religious sites, but “promote a peaceful, secure Africa whose development is people-driven” said Nunez, “especially by its women and youth.”

Elsewhere, in the city of Jos, Nigeria, Rev. Zaka Ahuche Peter said his KAICIID Fellows training equipped him to do the same in his country.

That Fellows training includes, “educational modules on the symbolic importance of sacred sites and build Fellows’ capacity to communicate this and diffuse situations through education and creating space for dialogue,” said Alabbadi.

Peter said his relationship with another KAICIID Fellow of a different faith, Fatima Madaki, reveals the “human factor” beyond distrust, helping foster resilience and a mutual respect for the “Other.” He said these kinds of relationships are vital as “attacks on religious sites in Nigeria seem not to abate.

“The fact still remains that ignorance, fanaticism and lack of the fear of God are responsible for destruction of holy sites,” he said, “but in collaboration with religious leaders and training from KAICIID, we are able to send the correct teachings out.”

Farther to the south, in the Nigerian state of Kaduna, Mugu Zakka Bako received a KAICIID 2021-2022 micro grant to organise an interreligious dialogue between local government, civil society organisations, and community leaders to strengthen coherent narratives to respond to violent extremism.

An active and trained peacebuilder whose passion for non-violence as a solution to conflict was moulded out of personal violence against his family members, Bako said “we have been bewitched by a lot of conflicts over natural resources and for ethno-religious, political, and economic reasons.

The conflicts have included numerous attacks on religious sites. “This has happened recently with the burning of churches and mosques in Plateau and some parts of Kaduna state,” he said, “the incessant attacks create insecurity and insecurity is one of Nigeria’s biggest challenges.”

As part of his KAICIID-funded interreligious dialogue sessions, Bako takes participants to different visits to religious sites.

The reactions, said Bako, have been overwhelming. “The outcome has been to foster resilience in the communities where I have worked,” he said, “it has helped religious leaders develop coping capacity and become aware of the need for them to protect their religious sites.

“Today, they are working towards interreligious groupings where Christians protect worship sites of the Muslims, while the Muslims do the same for Christians,” he said.

These kinds of programmes, Alabbadi said, are particularly impactful. With an eye toward expanding programmes like them in the Arab region and Europe in years to come, Alabbadi said, “when imams, priests, and other religious leaders visit each other in hard times and in good times, it signals to the community that it’s okay for them to do the same.”

““This level of relationship is what we call positive peace, to visit and to know what’s behind those walls,””

— Anas Alabbadi

“It is easy to believe negative stories about what is happening behind these walls when you stand outside them,” said Alabbadi, “but once you step inside and see another’s sacred space with your own eyes, it’s a profound, life-changing, life-affirming experience.”

*This post originally appeared on KAICIID.org.

Gracias a Dios, alhamdulillah, and great thanks to each and every one of you

The acknowledgements section of my book was extremely gratifying to write. It is even more gratifying to share it here with you.

Perhaps this has become trite to say, but after such an undertaking, I can attest that completing this book would have been impossible without the help of others. I am indebted to each and every one of the following individuals and to many others. 

The debts of gratitude and appreciation that I have accumulated are vast, and I ask forgiveness from all those I neglect to name here. And, it must be said, any errors in this book are solely my own and are not the responsibility of those who provided input throughout the process.

First, to the students in my spring 2017 Islam in the Americas course at the University of Florida: You gave me the idea for this book. Thank you also to the graduate students in my course at Otto Friedrich Universität Bamberg in Germany. Beyond inspiration, you helped develop, think through, critique, and expand some of the ideas that formed the backbone of this work. You also researched and wrote your own papers, which informed my knowledge and expanded my understanding of the landscape of this field. Best of all, you challenged me with your questions, comments, and critiques. You are already contributors to this field, and I thank you for your continued engagement with it.

To those I spoke with at the Latin American Studies Association Congress, the Caribbean Studies Association Conference, the American Academy of Religion Annual Meeting, the University of Florida and its Center for Global Islamic Studies, the Florida Caribbean Students Association, Florida International University, Otto Friedrich Universität Bamberg, Humboldt-Universität zu Berlin, Eberhard Karls Universität Tübingen, and Freie Universität Berlin: My presentations at these venues helped me to elucidate and elaborate on some of the themes in this book. Preparing these presentations also allowed me to work out some of the devils hiding in the details. Thank you to the participants, presiders, and panelists for your critical feedback and insightful questions.

Thank you to the editors of the extraordinarily helpful Critical Muslim series and Hamsa: Journal of Judaic and Islamic Studies. Thanks also to Frank Usarski and the International Journal of Latin American Religions and its editorial team for publishing an early review of literature that came to form the basis for this book’s outline. Thank you also to Celso Luiz Terzetti Filho for recommending me for its inaugural issue. Thank you to the people behind The Encyclopedia of Latin American Religions—senior editor Henri Gooren, the contributors to my section, and the editorial staff at Springer—for allowing me to serve as a section editor for the entries on Islam and Judaism in Latin America and the Caribbean. Readers will note that I have referenced entries from the encyclopedia in this book, which is a testament to the essential nature of the work, especially with regard to its emphasis on religions too often ignored (Islam, in particular) when surveying religion in the region.

To the Muslims and others who invited me into their homes and mosques, who told me their stories, or who shared their insights and experiences with me: I dedicate this book to you for good reason. There would be no book without you, plain and simple. I am humbly honored to learn from you in each conversation and new experience that I stumble and bumble my way through. Thank you for your patience, your confidence to speak, and your permission to allow me to share these stories. Gracias a Dios, alhamdulillah, and great thanks to each and every one of you. This book is my perspective on your narrative, and I respectfully submit it to you for critical feedback. I look forward to the conversations to come.

To the many scholars whose work I turn to in this book: This is your book, as well. As I state in Chapters 1 and 11, the book is meant to be an overview of an ongoing conversation in which you are all vital parts. Thank you for allowing me to be a co-collaborator in this field. I hope the book helps all of us continue to teach, learn, and delve deeper into the topic. Specifically, I would like to thank several individuals whose work I reference or allude to and with whom I was able to speak about their particular areas of expertise and research: Carlos Jair Martínez Albarracín, Patrick Bowen, Philipp Bruckmayr, Karoline P. Cook, Kevin Funk, Michelle Romero Gallardo, Juan Galvan, Hazel Gómez, Cynthia Hernández González, Nik Hasif, Aisha Khan, Aliyah Khan, Schuyler Marquez, Arely Medina, Harold Morales, Alaina Morgan, Madelina Nuñez, Luciana Garcia de Oliveira, Lucía Cirianni Salazar, Omar Ramadan Santiago, and others. As I recently said to Schuyler Marquez, “A win for one of us is a win for all of us” in this emerging field.

To my family and friends: Thank you for your cheerleading, encouragement, and forbearance as I talked about my project, retreated into my writing cave, or cut you off as I jotted down an idea that popped into my head. Thanks especially to my parents, Bob and Sandy: You have always encouraged me, no matter what I have done. When I was worried, stressed, or overwhelmed, you gave me proper perspective and the support to keep me supple to the strain of life and work. You gave me life—literally, figuratively, and spiritually. Thank you to Brett, who taught me the meaning of perseverance in the face of adversity and can always make me smile. Thank you to my German family and friends, including Karl Knaack (also known as Stefan Müller) and his electronic music, which helped me work through hours of manuscript writing, editing, and research. Thank you to Michael and Emily Knippa for a lovely stay in St. Louis, where I was able to write the bulk of Chapter 9. Thank you also to Andy and Faye Scott, whose lovely farmhouse in Bend, Oregon, permitted me to write the concluding chapter in peace and comfort while admiring the cloud-covered Cascade Mountains. 

Despite my weaknesses as a writer, I would like to thank all those who taught me how to research, write, and edit my way through an essay, a paper, a blog post, a news story, or a book: Mrs. Kelly, Mrs. Campbell, Mrs. Davis, and editors at the various papers, magazines, and portals in which I have had the honor to be published. Thanks also go to professors, mentors, and colleagues at Concordia University Irvine, who specifically helped refine my academic research and writing skills—Christine Lawton, Eshetu Abate Koyra, Korey Maas, James Bachman, Steven Mueller, and Jack Schultz, among others. I still have much to learn, and any shortcomings in my syntax or style are solely my responsibility. 

I am forever thankful for the pure privilege it was to conduct research with, learn from, and grow alongside the faculty, staff, and fellow researchers at the University of Florida, its Department of Religion, the Center for Latin American Studies, and the Center for Global Islamic Studies. Terje Østebø, Anna Peterson, Benjamin Soares, Efraín Barradas, David Hackett, Robin Wright, Whitney Sanford, Zoharah Simmons, and others provided the space for me to explore the themes of this book and write its first draft during my time in Gainesville. Thanks also to Barbara Mennel and Sophia Krzys Acord at the Center for the Humanities and the Public Sphere and their sponsorship of my attendance at the 2018 Writing Retreat at the Austin Cary Forest Learning Center, where I was able to put the final touches on the first draft.

I would also like to thank those who provided funding to support revisions of the manuscript. First, thanks to Ermin Sinanović and the Center of Islam in the Contemporary World at Shenandoah University for a grant that supported significant revisions in fall 2019. Thank you also to the Fritz Thyssen Foundation for funding my research at the Berlin Graduate School Muslim Cultures and Societies at Freie Universität Berlin, where I was able to make final revisions (even amidst the Covid-19 pandemic) with the full security of a research position in a supportive environment of colleagues. In particular, I thank Konrad Hirschler and Lars Ostermeier for their leadership and direction, Nadja Danilenko for writing tips, Antje Müller for taking care of the logistics of my position, Giulia Brabetz for her assistance and critical feedback on the manuscript along the way, and the fellows who participated in my Theorizing Global Islam reading group, in which we discussed this book’s main arguments and themes.

Thank you to the team at Lynne Rienner Publishers. I appreciate (and tremble a bit at) being able to follow in the footsteps of Judith Elkin, who published The Jews of Latin America with the same independent academic publishing house years ago. While my work cannot hope to compare, Lynne Rienner, Caroline Owen Wintersgill, Nicole Moore, Sally Glover, Allie Schellong, Diane Foose, and others were gracious throughout the process as we sought to provide a companion to such a seminal work. My thanks also go to the anonymous reviewers who provided critical, detailed, and constructive feedback that improved the final version of the text significantly. Unfortunately, that type of review feedback can be a rare commodity in academic publishing. Therefore, I am extremely grateful.

Finally, Paula, how can a paragraph express how much you have given to me in life and how much you have contributed to this book? In short, it cannot. Let this suffice for now: Thank you for your fierce intellect, constant encouragement, contagious joy, and for providing proper rhythm in life. Thank you for allowing me time to explore mosques and other sites of interest in Cuba, Puerto Rico, Brazil, New York, Iowa, Florida, the Bahamas, and elsewhere. Thank you also for reading the manuscript and providing feedback, specifically in matters related to Arabic. You were gracious to take time out of your schedule to do so. What’s more, every time I finished a chapter, wrote a few thousand words, or just stared at the computer for a while trying to figure out where to go next, you were always ready with an encouraging word, an insightful comment, or an offer to get snacks. You are the most amazing best friend and partner I could ask for.

Making Ethnography More Familiar, Theology More Strange: Ethnographic Theology as Theological Practice

In summer 2019, I had the opportunity to lead a “Cultural Anthropology in Christian Perspective” seminar with graduate students at Concordia Seminary, St. Louis. 

Our goal was to explore the frames and tools of cultural anthropology and their usefulness in ministerial and congregational contexts. Students not only immersed themselves in anthropological literature, but also got their hands dirty with ethnographic fieldwork. The students explored various topics via participant observation—from conference presentations on “creation science” to the “killing fields of Cambodia,” from the quotidian camaraderie of a local barbershop to the blurred lines of “online baptism.” 

Whether it was critically evaluating anthropological theories or discerning the methodological assumptions inherent in both ethnography and theology, our goal was the same: to make the strange more familiar and the familiar more strange.

This, I told the cohort, was the goal of ethnographic research. As pastors and theologians tasked with carefully and critically considering how an ethnographic lens might help us fulfill our vocations, we came to appreciate that as the work of ethnography became more familiar, it was the work of theology that became more strange.

In a recently published article with Concordia Journal (Summer 2021), I extend the discussions in that seminar and reflect on how applying the perspectives, postures, and practices of ethnography might help academic theologians and pastors better understand the world we live in and better discern the varieties of theology and culture within our congregations, communities, and denominations. 

I introduce “ethnography as theological practice” to help pastors and theologians more holistically understand the diverse, overlapping, and sometimes contradicting religious experiences and perspectives of our congregations, communities, and church bodies.

“Come out from among them and be different”: An Interview with Philip Yancey

Yancey’s Where the Light Fell  (Convergent, October.) digs up his roots in the fundamentalist South in the 1950s and ’60s. Yancey not only recounts how he came to repudiate aspects of his past, but managed to rekindle his faith and share the “good news” he believes it offers the world. 

In my interview with Yancey on behalf of Publisher’s Weekly, the popular author shared why his latest book is a memoir, what he learned by digging up his past, and how it speaks to evangelical realities in the U.S. today.

“We took the Bible verse ‘Come out from them and be different’ seriously. We dressed differently, we acted differently. We stood out. We were a marginalized group. In the end, the church served as a community of support. Life is difficult, especially if you’re in a poor community and you feel like you’re on the margins already.”

— Philip Yancey

Public Lecture: What hath ethnography to do with religion journalism?

Diversity and difference continue to pose a pronounced challenge to the public understanding of religion.

For decades, both religion scholars and journalists have striven to address religious pluralism and advance religious literacy through a range of critical research and explanatory reporting. One shared aspect between them has been the use of immersive techniques in order to offer more nuanced, contextual, and longform narratives of the miscellany of religious traditions.

On the one hand, ethnographers of religion have produced textured analyses of religious individuals, socialities, rituals, and material cultures, further refining and complicating our understanding of what “religion” is and how it is lived in particular places. On the other hand, some religion newswriters are afforded the opportunity to take deep dives into religious actors’ lives and contexts and tell their stories in popular fashion via features, podcasts, and video stories.

Despite their differences, qualitative religious studies scholarship and religion journalism have more in common than usually acknowledged.

As part of the series "Erfurt Monday Lectures: New Topics in Religious Studies” at the University of Erfurt, I will share some insights and reflections as both an ethnographer and a journalist and how my research and reporting on religion has led me to explore questions related to the ethics, norms, and aesthetics of both fields and how they might work together to shine light on how religion and spirituality function in the lives of religious actors and socialities in a diverse array of locales and from multiple points of view.

The event will be Monday, 21 June 2021 at 5:00 pm Central European Time (11:00 am EDT/8:00 PDT). You can learn more about the event HERE, register ahead of time via e-mail, or simply attend the event at the link below (requires WebEx software).

If you have any questions, be sure to reach out to me as well: k.chitwood@fu-berlin.de.

Lutherans for Racial Justice (LRJ) talks Islamophobia and anti-Muslim racism with Jordan Denari Duffner

Islam is not a race.

Muslims are not a race.

And yet, over time and in many and various ways, religious traditions and religious people have been racialized. 

That is to say, certain religions have been made into racial categories. 

Although there are many different people groups that can and do practice Islam is one of those religions that has been racialized. 

As a result, Muslims and others (like Sikhs) have been racially abused because of that fact. 

That’s why I think this conversation with Jordan Denari Duffner and her new book — about Islamophobia, what it is, and what Christians should do about it — is an important consideration for Lutherans in pursuit of racial justice. 

For Christians, learning more from Muslims, and how they suffer from racialized prejudice, injustice, and abuse — often because of our thoughts, words, and deeds — can help us better fulfill our call to love our neighbor.

Why al-Aqsa mosque is so often the site of conflict

The violence that spread from Jerusalem to cities across Israel and the Palestinian territories, leaving at least 60 dead so far, has both historical and contemporary roots.

In recent weeks, tension has flared over the eviction of Palestinian families in Sheikh Jarrah, East Jerusalem, Israeli authorities blocking access to the important Damascus Gate plaza during Ramadan, and a march of thousands of Israeli ultra-nationalists through the city on May 6, 2021, in celebration of “Jerusalem Day,” which marks the capture of East Jerusalem in 1967. 

But the one incident that led to a significant escalation involved Israeli security forces firing rubber-coated bullets, tear gas and stun grenades at worshipers gathered at al-Aqsa mosque on May 7.

When I teach introduction to Islam, I include a discussion about al-Aqsa as part of the syllabus. That’s because Al-Aqsa has deep religious significance for Muslims around the world. But, it is also important to highlight its remarkable political relevance for Palestinians. These two facts often make it a focal point for conflict.

The night journey of Muhammad

The Masjid al-Aqsa, or simply al-Aqsa, means “the farthest mosque” or “the farthest sanctuary,” and refers to the lead-domed mosque within the sacred precinct of Haram al-Sharif – “the Noble Enclosure.” The precinct includes the Dome of the Rock, the four minarets, the compound’s historic gates and the mosque itself.

Mentioned in Sura 17, verse 1 of the Quran, the mosque is linked to the story of Muhammad’s Isra – the “night journey” from Mecca to Jerusalem – that in part confirms him as the last and most authoritative of the prophets for Muslims. The Quran says the prophet was “carried…by night from the Sacred Mosque [in Mecca] to the Farthest Mosque [al-Aqsa], whose precincts we have blessed.” 

From there, it is believed that Muhammad ascended to heaven – called the Mir'aj. The Dome of the Rock – Qubbat as-Sakhra – is said to shelter the rock from where Muhammad physically ascended.

The mosque’s origins stretch back to the seventh century. It was first built in 637 C.E., just five years after the prophet’s death. It has been destroyed, rebuilt and renovated multiple times.

The current building largely dates to the 11th century and hosts daily prayers and Friday gatherings that draw large crowds. It lies adjacent to important Jewish and Christian religious locales, particularly the site of the First and Second Jewish Temples. 

At times, the Dome of the Rock – a shrine – and al-Aqsa – a mosque – have been confused as one and the same. While part of the same “Noble Sanctuary,” they are two distinct buildings with different histories and purposes. 

However, the term al-Aqsa is sometimes used to indicate the entire “Noble Sanctuary” complex. Originally, it is believed that the term “the farthest sanctuary” referred to Jerusalem as a whole. 

The Dome of the Rock, which shelters the rock from which Muhammad is believed to have ascended to heaven (PHOTO: Ken Chitwood)

Place in Islamic history

After Mecca and Medina, the vast majority of Muslims worldwide consider Jerusalem the third holiest place on Earth. 

Referenced frequently in Islamic tradition and hadith – records of something the Prophet Muhammad said, did or tacitly approved of – it is believed that while in Mecca, Muhammad originally oriented his community’s prayers toward al-Aqsa.

In 622 C.E., the community fled Mecca because of persecution, seeking refuge in Medina to the north. After a little over a year there, Muslims believe God instructed Muhammad to face back toward Mecca for prayers. In Surah 2, verses 149-150, the Quran says, “turn thy face toward the Sacred Mosque [the Kaaba in Mecca]…wheresoever you may be, turn your faces toward it.”

Nonetheless, Jerusalem and its sacred locales – specifically al-Aqsa and the Dome of the Rock – have remained sites of Islamic pilgrimage for 15 centuries.

The ‘most sensitive site’ in conflict

Given its sacred significance, there was great concern about the precinct’s fate after Israel’s victory in the 1967 Arab-Israeli War and its subsequent annexation of East Jerusalem.

Although Israel granted jurisdiction of the mosque and complex to an Islamic waqf – “endowment” – Israel still commands access to the grounds and security forces regularly perform patrols and conduct searches within the precinct. Under the Preservation of the Holy Places Law, the Israeli government has also allowed entry to different religious groups – such as Christian pilgrims. 

Many Israelis respect the sanctity of the place as the holiest site in Judaism. In 2005, the chief rabbinate of Israel said it is forbidden for Jews to walk on the site to avoid accidentally entering the Holy of Holies - the inner sanctum of the Temple, God’s place of promised presence on earth. Nonetheless, certain ultra-Orthodox Jewish groups controversially advocate for greater access and control of the site, seeking to reclaim the historic Temple Mount in order to rebuild the Temple.

Described as “the most sensitive site in the Israel-Palestinian conflict,” it has frequently been host to political acts. 

Riot gear on hand near an entrance to the “Noble Sanctuary,” Jerusalem. (PHOTO: Ken Chitwood)

For example, in August 1969, an Australian Christian named Dennis Michael Rohan attempted to burn down al-Aqsa, destroying the historically significant and intricately carved minbar – or “pulpit” – of Saladin, a treasured piece of Islamic art.

On Sept. 28, 2000, Israeli opposition leader Ariel Sharon and a delegation guarded by hundreds of Israeli riot police entered the precinct. This sparked protests and a violent crackdown by Israeli authorities, with multiple casualties. Many Muslims worldwide considered this a “desecration” of the sacred mosque, and the event helped ignite the Second Intifada, or Palestinian uprising. 

Tensions peaked again after an attack on Yehuda Glick, a controversial right-wing rabbi, in autumn 2014. In response, Israeli authorities closed down access to al-Aqsa for the first time since 1967. In March and April of that year, Israeli police used tear gas and stun grenades on Palestinians inside Al-Aqsa, prompting international outcry. 

Numerous other incidents between Israeli forces and worshipers have occurred at al-Aqsa in recent years. 

Controlled access to the site reminds Palestinians of their relative powerlessness in their ongoing land disputes with Israeli authorities. At the same time, attacks at al-Aqsa resonate with Muslims across the world who react with horror to what they see as the desecration of one of their most sacred sites. 

Defending al-Aqsa and fighting for rights to access it, I argue, have become proxy conflicts for both Palestinian claims and the need to defend Islam as a whole.

The age of "spirit tech" is here. It’s time we come to terms with it.

The electrodes are already attached to your scalp, so you settle into a seat that reminds you of the one they use at the dentist’s office. On the other end of a series of cords is a machine where a technician sits with a clipboard and a range of blinking and bleeping devices.

No, you’re not about to start a medical diagnostic exam.

You’re about to meditate.

Sound surreal? If so, welcome to the brave new world of “spirit tech,” where a range of researchers and practitioners are using brain based tech to “trigger, enhance, accelerate, modify, or measure spiritual experience.”

In their new book — Spirit Tech: The Brave New World of Consciousness Hacking and Enlightenment Engineering — Wesley J. Wildman and Kate J. Stockly take a stimulating journey into the technology that could shape our spiritual futures.

Investigating the intensifying interaction between technology and religion, they talk to innovators and early adopters who are "hacking the spiritual brain” using ultrasounds to help practitioners meditate or experimenting with “high-tech telepathy” to build a “social network of brains.”

Not only did I get the chance to read the book, I also sat down with a one-on-one interview with Stockly about how spiritual entrepreneurs and tech-savvy religious practitioners are using technology to modify spiritual experiences.

While critics may question “spirit tech’s” efficacy, elitism, and ethics, Wildman and Stockly are careful to note that religious people have always used tools — from mantras to mandalas, prayer beads to palm reading — to enhance spiritual experience. The difference now, they write, is the sheer number of “customizable and exploratory practices at the threshold between cutting-edge tech and the soul,” from synthetic psychedelic trips in lieu of Holy Communion to LED orbs that create connection between congregants.

Wildman and Stockly do not pretend to have it all figured out — spirit tech’s ability to balance innovation and enlightenment, they say, “is still being written” — but their thought-provoking introduction to the brave new world of transcendent tech gives both pious pioneers and defenders of traditional religion something to consider as they imagine the future of spirituality in the 21st-century and beyond.

For the House of One in Berlin, It's Complicated...

It sounds like a riddle: how do you fit the world’s religions into a single building?

For the team behind Berlin’s House of One, it’s not a riddle. It’s real life.

It’s also an immense challenge and a unique opportunity.

Dubbed “the world’s first churmosqagogue” by one Reddit user, the House of One — “the world’s first hybrid church-mosque-synagogue” — will break ground in Berlin on May 27, 2021.

By then, it will have been a project 12 years in the making, at an expected cost of at least 47.2 million euro ($57.2).

Its designers and leaders hope it will be used by Jewish, Christian and Muslim members as a place to pray, worship, gather and, perhaps above all, host a dialogue among their respective religions and with society at large.

Over the last few months, I had the distinct pleasure of getting to know the leaders behind the House of One and some of their partners around the globe.

I also got to speak with some practitioners of interreligious and intercultural dialogue here in Berlin, some of whom are skeptical about the concept and its eventual roll-out.

The result is my latest story with Religion News Service.

Faith Leaders on the Frontlines of COVID-19 Response

When Margaret Hoffman passed away last spring, her remains were brought from California to her hometown in Wisconsin and interred in a plot she chose years ago. There was a brief, Christian ceremony and those in attendance sang the hymn, “The Old Rugged Cross” per her request. In many ways, it all happened exactly as planned.

One thing Hoffman could not have foreseen, however, was that her funeral would take place during a global pandemic, which prevented most of her family from attending, save for a few distant cousins.

Along with claiming the lives of millions, COVID-19 has upended death rituals like Hoffman’s across faith traditions and spurred religious actors to respond with creativity and compassion when it comes to bereavement services and crisis response.

Here is the story of two faith leaders — one a rabbi in the United States and the other a priest in India — who have stepped up to provide frontline care, and inspire others to follow their lead, in the midst of an unprecedented pandemic.

Spotlight on: Dr. Karoline Cook - Forbidden Passages: Muslims and Moriscos in Colonial Spanish America

Emigrants from the Atlantic world came to the Americas for various reasons, with many motives, and precipitated by myriad circumstances. Some were forced, some came to escape an old society or to build a new one, others came to acquire riches or set-up shop. Yet, as J.H. Elliott wrote in his tome Empires of the Atlantic World: Britain and Spain in America 1492-1830, “they all faced the same challenge of moving from the known to the unknown, and of coming to terms with an alien environment that would demand of them numerous adjustments and a range of new responses.” 

Furthermore, as Elliott continues, “to a greater or lesser degree, those responses would be shaped by a home culture whose formative influence could never be entirely escaped, even by those who who were most consciously rejecting it for a new life beyond the seas.” While the local context with its diverse ecological, material, political, socio-cultural, and religious environments shaped the contours of American colonization and conquest, the colonial world was simultaneously defined and influenced by its transatlantic nature. Significantly, the historical and legal dimensions of imperial statecraft conditioned the experience of various constituencies in even the most far-flung reaches of the American empires. 

It is within this transatlantic imperial nexus that Dr. Karoline P. Cook situates the narrative of Forbidden Passages: Muslims and Moriscos in Colonial Spanish America.

The following is an interview with Dr. Cook, lecturer in the history of the Atlantic world at Royal Holloway University of London about her previous and current work that provides multiple insights into the state of study on Islam and Muslim communities in Latin America and the Caribbean over the longue durée.

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Why did you set out to write Forbidden Passages? Where did the process begin?

I became interested in Moriscos in the Americas when I was still an undergraduate student at Bryn Mawr College, researching my senior thesis on enslaved Moriscas who were tried by the Spanish Inquisition for practicing Islam. The summer before my senior year, I received a grant from Bryn Mawr to conduct research for my thesis at the Archivo Histórico Nacional (AHN) in Madrid, but first spent a couple of weeks in Seville with my family. In Seville I stopped by the Archivo General de Indias (AGI) to apply for an ID card that was required at the time for all researchers who wanted to consult Spain’s national archives. The archivists told me that I wouldn’t find information about Moriscos at the AGI because during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries they had been prohibited from emigrating to the Americas. Because I was already familiar with the rich historiography on conversos who faced the same travel restrictions as the Moriscos, and who nonetheless settled in the viceroyalties of New Spain and Peru, I began to wonder whether the same might have been true of the Moriscos. This knowledge and the questions it raised prompted my interest in whether Moriscos emigrated to Spanish America and if so, what implications their presence could have for our understanding of colonial society. Upon graduating from Bryn Mawr, I was granted a Fulbright Fellowship to spend the following year in the Spanish archives to determine whether I could answer these questions. I found more sources than I had anticipated amongst the Inquisition records at the AHN and the Royal Audiencia records at the AGI, and I began applying to PhD programs to continue researching the topic.

In your opinion, how much tactical thought was behind the accusation of being a Morisco?

Accusations that someone was a Morisco or had Muslim ancestry were very tactical, often aimed at discrediting an opponent. They drew upon understandings of limpieza de sangre (blood purity) that could be invoked to prevent a rival from holding prestigious offices, practicing certain professions, or emigrating to the lands claimed by Spain in the Western Hemisphere. The reality was much more complex, and the accused could go to court to assert their status and negotiate their position in colonial society. This allowed for degrees of fluidity in the ways that individuals presented themselves. But it was also about access and the persistent vulnerability to accusation that would result in lengthy and expensive litigation.  

Are there any implications for today’s political landscape that we can draw from the colonialist’s fear of Moriscos undermining their agenda and the subsequent failure to exclude the latter from the ‘New World’?

The discourses invoked by colonial officials against Muslims and anyone they perceived to be a Muslim finds a great deal of resonance with Islamophobia and anxieties about emigration today. Trump’s ‘Muslim ban’ is one of the most recent examples, but this goes back much farther. My Fulbright year in Madrid coincided with September 11 and the US invasion of Afghanistan – when I returned home each evening after reading denunciations of Moriscos in the archives, I continued to read the newspapers full of reports of hate crimes against people perceived to be Muslims and generally heightened anxiety about Muslims who were viewed with suspicion and associated with terrorism in the media. These images have a much longer history, and it was one of the points I wanted to write about in my book.

If there are any implications that can be drawn it is the insidious persistence of hate speech – the ways that negative images of Muslims and emigrants have been invoked for a variety of political agendas. It is important to recognize the types and patterns of anti-Islamic discourse and be attentive to such images in order to challenge them both verbally and legally before they can gain traction. The ways that the label ‘Morisco’ functioned in the context of local disputes can also tell us something about early constructions of race and racism, and the different forms that racism can assume in contexts that both pre-dated and extend beyond the 19th and 20th century examples.

If the numbers in the sources are reliable, what is your estimate of how many Moriscos came to the Americas?

This is a very difficult question and something I am still working on in the background, even if it wasn’t the focus or main interest of my first book. To date I have found approximately 200 references to Moriscos in the context of denunciations before the ecclesiastical and secular courts for practicing Islam in secret or having Muslim ancestry. I am continuing to gather references for a future book that will attempt to grapple with the question of the ways that individuals who did self-identify as Muslims in Spanish America during the early colonial period might have formed communities or ties with each other. This would include not only Iberian converts from Islam but also Muslims from the Maghreb and sub-Saharan Africa. 

That said, a focus on numbers alone can be problematic since it is often very difficult to determine who was or was not a Morisco, and such an approach risks replicating the concerns of inquisitors and colonial officials.

In the second half of the book you describe the Moriscos as providers of magical health services across all classes and castes. What implications do you see in this for understanding the colonial society as a whole?

There was a great deal of exchange at the local everyday level, where Moriscos were sought for remedies – their expertise was valued within their communities. We see this in a variety of contexts where multiple ritual specialists might be consulted if someone was ill or needed the intervention of a healer or a practitioner of love magic and divination. Morisco healers operated in the same local communities as indigenous and African healers, and alongside other broader Mediterranean traditions of healing. Inquisition denunciations could also operate as malpractice suits, but there were important differences between how someone denouncing a failed cure framed the event and the inquisitors’ propagandistic use of it in the context of pamphlets and autos de fe. Heightened political tensions or interpersonal rivalries created an environment where denunciations could occur. 

Read “From Disciples to Missionaries: The Trans-Continental Trajectory of the Khoja Shia Ithna-Asheri Community from South Asia to Latin America”

You use the term ‘Morisco’ for both, new Christian converts, and old Christians accused of descending from Moors. What was your reasoning behind this double connotation?

‘Morisco’ was a label that operated as a legal category with implications for someone’s rights and status. There is also little evidence that Moriscos in Spain referred to themselves by this label. I wanted to convey the tactical use of the term in disputes and lawsuits as well as highlight the multiple people who fell under this designation depending on the context. 

What has been the ‘afterlife’ of the book? In other words, what conversations has it inspired and what has it contributed to the study of Islam and Muslim communities in the Americas?

Since Forbidden Passages was published there has been more interest in the topic. It has inspired conversations about the presence of Muslim communities across the Americas. There are a number of young scholars now working on this topic from different perspectives, and it is gratifying to hear from them about their interests and their work.

If you would have the chance to rewrite the book today, what area would you include that is not covered in the first version?

I would write a lot more about Moriscas and gender generally. When I was researching Forbidden Passages I didn’t feel that I had adequate source material to do this well, but as time passes and I collect more sources I am increasingly incorporating gender analysis into my work.

What research project(s) are you currently working on?

I am working on two book-length projects, beyond the long-term project that I mentioned above that really won’t be ready to write for at least another ten years! My next book project examines constructions of nobility in the early modern Spanish Empire. I will focus on how a range of families who claimed descent from the Nasrid emirs of Granada, the Inca rulers of Peru, and the Mexica rulers of Tenochtitlan claimed noble status at a time when creole families in the viceroyalties of New Spain and Peru were also engaged in litigation regarding the perpetuity of their encomiendas, and they invoked and at times invented accounts of Christian-Muslim relations on the Peninsula in order to stake their claims. Broadly speaking I am interested in how such claims to noble status and representations of Muslims in the petitions and court cases can shed light on how ideas about race were taking shape in this period.

My other project is a microhistory that focuses on Cristóbal de la Cruz, a man who was born in Algiers and enslaved as a young boy after being captured on a fishing boat, taken to Seville and baptized. De la Cruz denounced himself before inquisitors in Barcelona, Seville, and Mexico City multiple times over a thirty-year period. I am comparing his testimonies between the 1650s and 1680s to analyse how he narrated his life story to inquisitors at the beginning of each trial, engaged them in theological debates, and recounted events and exchanges he had with Muslims and Christians in Spain, the Caribbean and in Mexico, all while expressing doubts about whether belief in Christianity or Islam would lead to his salvation. I have already written about De la Cruz in an article that appeared in The Americas in 2008.

To cite this article: “Spotlight on: Dr. Karoline Cook - Forbidden Passages: Muslims and Moriscos in Colonial Spanish America,” Latin America and Caribbean Islamic Studies Newsletter, Vol. 1, No. 2. (January 2021).

Sins of the fathers: How German evangelicals are confronting antisemitism, past and present

“The Grandchildren, The Dialogue” (Die Enkel, Der Dialog) event was meant to be a chance for the people of Eisenach, a town of 42,000 in the central German state of Thuringia, to reflect on their collective Nazi past. 

Part of a series of events focused on “interreligious and intercultural dialogue,” the event brought together public personalities in Eisenach’s St. George Church to discuss how their families addressed Germany’s antisemitic past and how they could confront it today.

Bodo Ramelow, Minister-President of the Thuringia State Parliament, said his family simply did not talk about it. “I only found out my family’s involvement with National Socialism later, in pieces,” he said.

Worried about this historical neglect, Ramelow said, “we thought antisemitism was gone, but it never really left. We just stopped talking about it and now, it’s back out in the open.” 

Despite the nation’s “Culture of Remembrance” (Erinnerungskultur), antisemitism is still a problem in Germany. The Department of Research and Information on Antisemitism Berlin’s (RIAS Berlin) most recent report recorded a total of 410 anti-Semitic incidents in the first half of 2020.

The most recent prominent attack occurred in 2019 in the eastern city of Halle when a gunman killed two people outside a synagogue during the observance of Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement. 

While some blame far-right politics or Germany’s Muslim community, data shows multiple sectors of society bear responsibility for the rise in antisemitic incidents, including Christians. 

Data such as this has recently forced Christians to reconsider how their communities respond to anti-Semitism, or whether they address it at all.

Although sources say that churches have long sidestepped the issue, many are learning to confront the history of Christian complicity in the greatest sins of the nation’s past and build better Jewish-Christian relationships in the present. 

Jesus for President?

A guest post from Ryan Dradzynski.

Apparently, Jesus makes quite an impact at the polls.

The influence that Jesus and his teachings exert on the voting-booth behaviors of certain segments of the population is well established. Earlier this year, for example, the Pew Research Center found that 49% of Americans—and 68% of American Christians—believe that the Bible should have ‘some’ or a ‘great’ influence on U.S. laws.

Despite this fact, it would be astonishing to find Jesus’s name on the ballot. And yet, that is exactly what one might be led to expect given the nationwide proliferation of signs, shirts, and stickers bearing the slogan “Jesus 2020.”

The campaign, of course, isn’t actually about electing a 2,000-year-old Jewish man from Nazareth to our nation’s highest office. Rather, the organizers of the movement, Martha Sikes and Joyce Hubbard of Sampey Memorial Baptist Church in Ramer, Alabama, hope it will lead “people to elect [Jesus] to be the leader in their life.”

Local coverage reported several weeks ago that the church has sold more than 30,000 signs and given away another 7,000. The official Facebook page, which displays photos of signs in yards from coast to coast and most places in between, attests to cross-denominational and nationwide support. The campaign coordinators attribute the rapid spread of their signs across our cultural and literal landscape to “God’s perfect timing and design.” What might these signs signify about the relationship between politics and Christianity in America?

Although the campaign began under the auspices of a small Baptist church in south-central Alabama, this is not the first time that Christianity has appropriated political structures and symbols for proselytization.

In Translating the Message: The Missionary Impact on Culture, Lamin Sanneh suggests that the medium and method of Christian evangelization has changed over time in response to its social, political, and economic environment. While Sanneh emphasized the linguistic and textual aspects of these ‘translations,’ the principle holds true in other areas as well (the appropriation of cross imagery or the Saxon Heliand come immediately to mind). In the U.S., there have been several movements which associated Jesus with political power, from a series of ‘Washington for Jesus’ rallies in the late ‘80s and ‘90s to a national speaking tour by the authors of Jesus for President in 2008.

What is striking about this latest manifestation of electoral evangelism is the fact that it is, according to its originators, apolitical.

Despite the organizers’ scrupulous attempts to prevent political leaven from polluting their efforts, the fact remains that they have chosen an explicitly political medium for their religious outreach. In doing so, they have implicitly made numerous assumptions and assertions about the relationship between Christianity and politics in America.

“In our highly polarized times,” observed Sightings author Corey D. Walker, “we are experiencing a moment in which our political concerns are framed within a theological architecture.” By framing theological concerns within a politicalarchitecture, the “Jesus 2020” campaign seems to indicate that the reverse is also true.

The danger of this, Walker notes, is that when political language is “imbued with the spirit of religion…[it] blurs the boundaries between religion and politics to such an extent that the political becomes synonymous with and an extension of the religious, even for those without an explicit religious” (and to this we might add, political) position.

Read in conjunction with each other, Sanneh and Walker can be used to illustrate how the appropriation of political motifs for the sake of religious proselytization necessarily entails political implications. This raises a number of challenging questions for the campaign, such as:

What does ‘voting for Jesus’ mean to historically disenfranchised communities?

How does this representation of Jesus, associated with the nation’s highest office, relate to America’s marginalized groups—the economic, political, and cultural ‘least of these’?

How might the reference to voting (an inherently exclusionary practice) perpetuate and exacerbate the deep divisions plaguing our polity?

What is the status of those—leaving aside questions of soteriological (s)election—who decline to ‘elect’ Jesus?

How might the belief that “Jesus is the only cure for this nation’s problems” allow his electorate to disregard their responsibilities to his creation and ignore their temporal obligations to their neighbor?

Seen in this light, exhortations to vote for Jesus imply either a repudiation of politics or a total subordination of politics to whatever interpretation of Jesus gains the upper hand. Secure in its assertion of apoliticism, these are concerns that the campaign does not raise, much less resolve.

While it would be inaccurate and uncharitable to accuse the campaign’s producers and consumers of demanding the abrogation of religious liberty or the establishment of a Christian theocracy, appeals to intent should not absolve them (or us) from facing the complicated relationships they invoke.

*Ryan Dradzynski is a former student of mine at the University of Florida, where he graduated in 2019. He recently completed an internship program in Washington D.C. at the Hudson Institute and now resides in Alabama, where he keeps an eye out for “Jesus 2020” election signs and intersections of religion, politics, and culture.

Building a Better World for Everyone: H.E. Cardinal John Oneiyekan on Interfaith Input at the G20

In 2005, Cardinal Onaiyekan’s commitment to peace and de-escalation was put to the test. He had just received word that a Danish newspaper had printed a series of satirical cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad, sending shockwaves through Nigeria and resulting in hundreds of casualties in a violent uprising between the country’s Christian and Muslim communities.

Following visits from the Israeli ambassador and a representative of the Palestinian Liberation Organization, Cardinal Onaiyekan reached out to the Sultan of Sokoto, the leader of Nigeria’s Muslim community. Together two of Nigeria’s most influential religious leaders issued a joint statement declaring that the incident was not a Muslim-Christian issue and urging both sides to settle disputes peacefully.

In the years since, His Eminence Cardinal John Olorunfemi Onaiyekan, Metropolitan Archbishop of Abuja, Nigeria, has earned his reputation as the person to call in Nigeria when there is conflict, especially those of an interreligious nature.

Following his education and early work with the Church, Cardinal Onaiyekan was appointed the Auxiliary Bishop of Ilorin at the age of 38. Now retired from official church duties, Cardinal Onaiyekan continues to advocate religious peacebuilding and justice in sub-Saharan Africa and around the world.

In 2012, he was named Pax Christi International’s 2012 Peace Laureate, an annual prize awarded to exemplary individuals who stand up for peace, justice, and nonviolence across the globe.

“I am involved at the international level for the same reasons I’ve been at the frontlines of Christian-Muslim dialogue in my country — to work for justice and peace,” he said.  

Due to his sterling record of interreligious engagement in Nigeria, and his persistent promotion of peace in other capacities throughout his career, he has served as honorary president of Religions for Peace (RfP), as President of the Christian Association of Nigeria and as President of the Catholic Bishops’ Conference of Nigeria.

He has also been invited to be a part of the upcoming G20 Interfaith Forum which will be held October 13-17 – a role that Cardinal Onaiyekan sees as an opportunity to bring the importance of faith in conflict resolution and sustainable development to the forefront.

Americans looking in...on my sermon notes?

It’s not every day that my sermon notes go on display in an art exhibition.

But on Thursday, 8 October, notes from one of my messages will be part of an exhibition at the Center for Book Arts (CBA) in New York City, NY called, “Americans Looking In” curated by Emilie Ahern & Sherri Littlefield

Inspired by Robert Frank’s, “The Americans,” the gallery invites viewers to consider the question “what does it mean to be ‘American?’”

From the CBA’s webpage:

The Americans, by Robert Frank, was a highly influential book in post-war American photography. The photographs were notable for their distanced view of both high and low strata of American society and the book as a whole created a complicated portrait of the period, interpreted as skeptical of contemporary values and evocative of ubiquitous loneliness.

Both curators of Americans Looking In have reflected on what it means to be “American.” Having multicultural backgrounds and being raised in the States has given them both moments of confusion and frustration, and has led them to wonder what this country has to do with personal identity. When forming this exhibition, the curators presented themselves, artists, editors, leaders and everyday-people with the question – “What is American culture today, and what does an American look like?”

The hope is that viewers will explore this question with them by staring through the eyes of the artists in this exhibition, leading to self reflection upon exiting the space.

When Sherri invited me to display my sermon notes — the raw, unrefined, random, doodle-filled, scrap that gets somewhat organized into a coherent message later on — as part of the exhibition, she said it was to give viewers the chance to “look over my shoulder” as I prepared.

My sermon notes will be displayed along with content from religious leaders of other traditions.

My hope is that my notes, along with the stunning works of art on display, can play a small role in helping viewers wrestle with what it means to be “American” and how we can make sense of our personal identities in light of “others” and their perspectives, practices, and traditions.

The story of American religion is central to the American story as a whole.

Throughout our history, religion played a critical role in making the country what it is, and what it isn’t, today. For good or for ill, religion lies at the heart of our identity, our history, and our future.

And so, I am humbly honored to let other Americans “look in” on my sermon notes to help them explore what it means to be “American” from a spiritual perspective.

If you’re interested in learning more, the CBA will be hosting a live, virtual opening Thursday, October 8th, on Zoom at 6:30pm. Here's the event page, where you can find out more. 

An Axiom of Participation: The Role of Religion in Peacebuilding and Conflict Prevention

When it comes to conflict, religion holds a paradoxical place in the public imagination.

Religious actors acknowledge that they and their religious communities often fall short and that their faiths have been twisted to fuel hate and violence.

At the same time, representatives from across the religious and political spectrum believe that “when it comes to today’s crises, religion isn’t just part of the problem—it’s part of the solution.”

The G20 Interfaith Forum, scheduled to be streamed from Saudi Arabia from 13-17 October, highlights how interreligious cooperation can help solve global challenges, bringing together religious thought leaders and political representatives to seek solutions to some of the world’s most intractable problems.

According to conveners, the goal is to ensure “that the rich, countless ideas and actions of the worlds’ religious communities about global agendas are heard and understood.”

One of the prime emphases of this year’s forum will be on the role of religion in peacebuilding and conflict prevention. Representatives from various regions will wrestle with how faith communities can inform, and help enact, policy related to countering hate speech, protecting sacred sites, addressing violent extremism, promoting inclusive citizenship, and preventing human trafficking and modern slavery.

Book Review: Far From Mecca

Brenda Flanagan’s 2009 novel Allah in the Islands tells the story of the lives, dreams, and social tensions of the residents of Rosehill, a community on the fictional “Santabella Island.” The novel centers around the protagonist Beatrice Salandy and her decision whether or not to leave Santabella, a lush and tropical Caribbean island only thinly veiled as real-life Trinidad. Weaving its way through the novel is Beatrice’s relationship with an “Afro-Santabellan” Muslim community that is critical of island politics and outspoken on behalf of the poor.

Through first-hand narratives from Abdul—one of the members of the community and right-hand man to its leader, Haji—readers learn that the “Afro-Santabellan” Muslim community is planning a coup against the Santabellan government. This, in turn, is a thinly veiled reference to the real-life 1990 Jamaat al-Muslimeen coup. A key theme that runs throughout the book, and in contemporary Trinidad, is how the non-Muslim residents of Santabella view “Afro-Santabellan” Muslims. Situated between the island’s Black and Indian communities, Flanagan writes how island residents react with a mixture of awe and opprobrium to their Muslim neighbors.

While it may seem strange to start a review of one book with a discussion of another, I would not have been aware of Flanagan’s work if it were not for Aliyah Khan. Khan’s adept analysis of Flanagan’s Allah in the Islands serves as one of the primary means by which she argues that the 1990 coup is the seminal event for the Caribbean’s perception of Islam and Muslims. Combining this analysis with an interview with “Haji”—the real-life “celebrity terrorist” Imam Yasin Abu Bakr—and an exploration of popular calypso music about the coup, Khan shows how events in Trinidad in the 1990s “changed national perceptions of Muslims” (192) throughout the Anglophone Caribbean, long before 9/11.

This is just one small example of Khan’s masterful interdisciplinary treatment of the subject of Islam and Muslims in the Anglophone Caribbean.

In this regard and many others, Far From Mecca is a commendable monograph that will spark additional research in the burgeoning field of Latin American and Caribbean Islamic studies, building on previous literature on Islam and Muslims in the Anglophone Caribbean in particular. It is also a worthwhile text by which scholars in different fields—religion in the Americas, Caribbean studies, global Islamic studies, postcolonial studies, etc.—might branch beyond their main disciplines and come to learn something fresh, from a slightly different perspective. Such was the case for me as I came across Allah in the Islands in Khan’s work. It is rare for works to be able to speak to so many different fields and to do so cogently and convincingly, but Khan’s book is an exception that is enlightening for readers in multiple disciplines, critical of an array of entrenched scholarly discourses, and useful for various classroom discussions.

Overall, Khan argues that appreciating the continuous Afro- and Indo-Muslim presence and cultural influence in the Caribbean tells a different story about both global Islam and the Caribbean. Following Aisha Khan’s emphasis on Islam of the Americas, rather than Islam in the Americas, Aliyah Khan claims that Muslims are “not different from other Caribbean people in their negotiation of culture and place” and situates Islam and Muslims firmly within the history and society of the Anglophone Caribbean as a whole. At the same time, Khan also seeks to de-center the study of Islam in the Americas outside the USA, looking at the hemisphere’s “formerly colonial whole” and pinpointing events and figures beyond 9/11 and the USA’s respectively well-studied Muslim communities. Khan brings an interdisciplinary approach to the subject, weaving together literary analysis of fiction, autobiography, poetry, non-fiction, and music in Guyana, Trinidad, and Jamaica with interviews, media analysis, and personal connections to key events in the Anglophone Caribbean.

Khan’s work is a timely, incisive, and critical addition to the growing corpus of literature that seeks to bring the lens of Caribbean studies to bear on the study of global Islam and expanding the perspectives and paradigms scholars use to frame Islamic studies and its “literatures.”

Religion at the UN: From Gender Justice to Protecting the Environment, Faith Communities are Creating Sustainable Change

When Prof. Azza Karam was trying to create the Interagency Task Force on Religion and Sustainable Development (IATF) during her time at the UN, she often ran into a challenge that seemed embedded in the organization’s DNA.

“The UN is supposed to be the quintessential universal culture, you’re supposed to step through the doors and have no country, no religion, and serve all,” she said.

Respecting this altruism and admiring the broad human rights principles that make the UN what it is, Karam still felt something was missing — the heart. She wondered, “how can you serve all if you don’t understand what touches people’s hearts, their faith?”

Driven by a desire to see faith-based actors more involved with the UN, she worked with like-minded individuals to create the UN IATF in 2010. Today, it includes more than 20 UN agencies and works toward shared objectives with key partners in the faith-based world.

In 2018, the UN IATF established the MFAC to advise on key areas of the UN’s mandate, such as gender justice, environmental protection, and peacebuilding. KAICIID serves as the only intergovernmental organization that holds membership in the MFAC and co-chaired the council from 2018-2019.

Rabbi Burton Visotzky, Appleman Professor of Midrash and Interreligious Studies at Jewish Theological Seminary in New York City, was already involved with the UN Under-Secretary General for Genocide Prevention and was often consulted along with other faith leaders by the IATF, so much so that he thought of himself as “the UN’s ‘go-to Jew.’”

Along with other “religious friends of the UN” he came to serve on the MFAC when it was founded.

Although still in its infancy, Visotzky said the MFAC has already made an impact around the UN. “Having discovered religion, the UN has acted on that knowledge and is keen to partner with us in a variety of ways.”