Come, let us wear face masks in worship: Lockdown measures eased, but Christians struggle with coronavirus restrictions

Franziska König always enjoys getting a note from her pastor. Even so, she never expected to get one like she did last week.

“The message started out normally, asking me how I am doing,” König said, “how I am fairing in these terrible times and so on.”

Then, her pastor told her that their small evangelical church in Berlin was going to reopen after being closed for weeks due to the COVID-19 pandemic. That was good news.

“But it was weird when he said I would have to make ‘reservations’ for my family to have a spot on Sunday,” said König. “That’s certainly never happened before.”

König and her congregation are not alone in navigating a “new normal” for worship gatherings as lockdown limits ease across Germany.

While Germany’s federal government makes plans for tracing infection chains and reopening public facilities, churches across Germany are developing their own plans for how to restart worship with new regulations such as compulsory face masks, the prohibition of physical contact, and restrictions on congregational singing.

Questions about singing, more than anything else, have caused consternation among evangelicals in Germany. Perhaps this comes as no surprise. It was the German reformer Martin Luther, after all, who said that “next to the Word of God, music deserves the highest praise.”

However, Lothar Wieler, the head of Germany’s top health research organization—the Robert Koch Institute (RKI)—strongly advised against communal singing of any kind while there are still fears about the spread of the coronavirus. Wieler explained in the official biweekly COVID-19 press conference that “evidence shows that during singing, the virus drops appear to fly particularly far.”

Some even say that singing is a “super-spreader.”

A Butcher By Name, This Muslim Surgeon Saves Lives Across Battle Lines

ALEXANDRIA, Egypt — the city of learned philosophers and a once-great library, named after Alexander the Great— I head west toward Borg el-Arab to meet Dr. Mohammed Elgazzar, who could be considered a torch bearer for the legacy of Alexandrian medicine.

My car passes numerous pick-ups going in both directions, carrying bovine burdens.

Today is Eid al-Adha— the feast of the sacrifice— and these are the chosen beasts for ritual slaughter. Remembering the story of how God commanded Ibrahim to sacrifice his son Ismail as a test of faith, Muslims slaughter an animal on Eid al-Adha, recalling Ibrahim’s sacrifice and the importance of submission to the will of God.

It is hard to count how many cows I see on my 45-minute drive, but I estimate around 60. My driver, Ahmed, tells me that a cow costs around 55 Egyptian pounds (around $3.25 USD) per kilogram.

I arrive in Borg al-Arab and join Elgazzar and his two sons there to sacrifice their family’s cow and have it butchered for fattah — a traditional dish of rice, pita, and beef. According to the Sunnah— the life and traditions of the prophet Muhammed— one-third of the animal goes to families who paid for it, another third goes to those less fortunate, and the final third to friends, extended family and neighbors. 

The Elgazzar cow, presently fighting the group of men seeking to subdue it before slaughter, cost around 26,235 EGP (about $1,583 USD), split between seven families. 

Elgazzar makes his way to the front of the pressing crowd with the head butcher and three  assistants. They stretch the cow’s neck out with a blindfold over its eyes and its appendages pulled aside by ropes. With a single move and an exclamation of “Allahu Akbar!” the butcher and Elgazzar make the deadly cut. 

Butchers prepare a cow for ritual sacrifice at The Republic Butcher and Grill in Eid al-Adha in Burj Al Arab, Egypt. Photo by Ken Chitwood.

The slice is silent, swift and the blood spills out quickly. It looks like a poorly made corn-syrup concoction from a 1950s American war movie. Unreal and yet, visceral. Elgazzar appears unaffected by the process. 

After a few minutes, the cow breathes its last and hangs from a chain, to be butchered over several hours.

Elgazzar comments on the anatomy of the beast with the precise eye of a doctor and gives suggestions to the butchers as they make their cuts.

Tiring of the butchering process, we both step outside for some fresh air. As the heat of the day intensifies, I ask Elgazzar about the ironic juxtaposition of wielding a knife to take a life, compared to his usual use of knives to save them. 

“These are completely different,” he says sternly, “But I would always prefer to save the life, always.”

Disciplined, dignified and driven by a resonant desire to save those on the brink of death, Elgazzar— whose surname ironically means “the butcher” in Arabic— first thought of medicine as a means to save his mother from a terminal illness. Not able to save his mother, he went on to save countless more lives as a renowned and award-winning war surgeon on both sides of conflicts in Yemen, Syria, Sierra Leone and South Sudan.

A short history of hajj cancellations

Saudi Arabia has urged Muslims to delay their plans for the hajj, amid speculation that the obligatory pilgrimage may be canceled this year due to the coronavirus.

Earlier this year, Saudi authorities halted travel to holy sites as part of the umrah, the “lesser pilgrimage” that takes place throughout the year.

Canceling the hajj, however, would mean a massive economic hitfor the country and many businesses globally, such as the hajj travel industry. Millions of Muslims visit the Saudi kingdom each year, and the pilgrimage has not been canceled since the founding of the Saudi Kingdom in 1932. 

But as a scholar of global Islam, I have encountered many instances in the more than 1,400-year history of the pilgrimage when its planning had to be altered due to armed conflicts, disease or just plain politics.

INTERNATIONAL ORGANIZATIONS PARTNER WITH RELIGIOUS LEADERS TO REACH VULNERABLE COMMUNITIES DURING COVID-19

Pope Francis leading Easter mass in an empty St. Peter’s Basilica. Solitary images of the Kaaba in Mecca and the absence of pilgrims praying around it. Digital meditation sessions, online devotions, and Holy Communion served on the end of a PVC pipe.

As faith leaders react to the new realities of religious practices in light of COVID-19, non-profit organizations, policymakers, and intergovernmental institutions are working with religious communities to develop plans, implement strategies, and provide guidance for what can be done to mitigate the virus’ social, economic, and political impacts. 

“The virus does not care about ethnicity or nationality, faction or faith. It attacks all, relentlessly,” United Nations Secretary General Antonio Guterres said. “Together, we can and will defeat this virus – with cooperation, solidarity and faith in our common humanity.”

Read on to learn what international organizations like the WHO, UN, Religions for Peace, and more are doing to partner with religious communities across the world to protect the vulnerable at such a time as this.

Plague Started Their Passion Play in 1633. COVID-19 Canceled It in 2020.

As an epidemic raged across Europe, a picturesque German village in the mountainous south of Bavaria decided to do something about it. 

Having already lost 80 of their own to the plague, the villagers of Oberammergau pledged to perform the Passion of Jesus Christ—his suffering, death, and resurrection—every tenth year, so that no one else might die. 

So goes the historical legend of the origins of the Oberammergau Passion Play, an almost four-centuries-old tradition that takes place once every 10 years. 

The year of the pledge was 1633, not 2020. The Pest—German for plague—was the so-called “Black Death,” not the COVID-19 pandemic.

But, in an ironic twist of fate, the 42nd Oberammergau season—set to run between May 16 to October 4, 2020—was postponed last week due to measures taken by local government authorities in response to the new coronavirus outbreak. 

For my latest story in Christianity Today, I spoke to organizers, tour operators, locals, and potential pilgrims about their hopes, fears, and the realities of what it means to postpone a once-in-a-decade ritual in light of COVID-19’s rapid spread across the globe.

Coronavirus: How a Possible Epidemic is Shaping Muslim Pilgrimages

Coronavirus news, fears, and realities are impacting everything — even sacred pilgrimages.

Due to concerns over the global spread of the coronavirus – especially in nearby Iran – Saudi Arabia has temporarily suspended travel to its holy sites. Millions of Muslims visit the Saudi kingdom around the year for pilgrimage.

The current travel restrictions prevent the entry of both overseas pilgrims and Saudi citizens into the holy cities of Mecca and Medina. This has had a direct impact on the umrah pilgrimage, known as the “lesser pilgrimage,” that can be performed at almost any time of the year.

The question is whether or not the continuing spread of the virus will put a halt to the hajj later this year.

Click below to read about how past experiences with epidemics might shape the decision and understand the difference between umrah and hajj.

Spiritual Abuse: What is it? How do we address it?

“I experienced spiritual abuse while serving as an intern for a church,” Keagan said.* “Specifically, I experienced frequent bullying from the pastor and on occasion, members of his staff. The thing that still haunts me is how they justified the way they treated me; they would say in the smuggest and condescending way, ‘This is ministry,’ as if I shouldn't expect better treatment somewhere else.”

He said, “I have never felt totally healthy in a church since.”

This is just one of the stories that I heard while researching a piece on “spiritual abuse” for Christianity Today.

At the heart of the article is the debate over what “spiritual abuse” is, whether or not it should be a distinct category from other forms of abuse, and how that might impact church practice and religious freedom in places like the UK.

Despite the fervor of the conversation, all the stories reminded me that — whatever we call it — abuse is a far too common occurrence in religious communities.

Stories like Keagan’s are not isolated, nor are they specific to Christian churches. Muslims, Hindus, Jews, and many others have experienced “spiritual abuse.” Perhaps the debate over its definition and delineation can help us begin to address it — across religious boundaries — in substantive and sustainable ways.

I invite you to read the article at Christianity Today to be a part of the conversation.

*Keagan’s name has been changed to protect his identity, at his request.

O For a Global Tongue to Sing: Why German Evangelicals Are Praising God in English

English is the first thing you notice at Hillsong Berlin. The church was meeting at the Kino in der Kulturbrauerei—a movie theater in a historic brewery, just one tram stop from the last standing section of the Berlin Wall—but on Sunday night the sign out front said, “Welcome Home.” A smiling cadre of young, fashionable, and diverse volunteers from around the world greeted people in accented English.

Inside, the entire service is in English, including the sermon and all the worship songs. Participants sing “Wake,” “What a Beautiful Name,” and “King of Kings.” Most international Hillsong churches translate their services from the local language into English. In Berlin, there is no translation. The service is just in English. That isn’t Hannah Fischer’s first language, but that’s part of why she comes to Hillsong Berlin.

“People from outside Germany can’t really understand how awkward it is to be Christian here,” she said. “I could never praise God like that in my language.”

Five hundred years ago, Martin Luther insisted that Christians needed to hear the gospel in their own language, in words they could understand. When the Reformation swept Germany, people abandoned Latin worship for German prayers and praise.

Today, however, German Christians like Fischer are turning from their own language to a more global tongue: English. They say the foreign language allows them to loosen their German identity, praise God in an uninhibited way, and connect with a global, cosmopolitan Christianity.

How to Brexit Like a Christian: British Evangelicals Brace for Brexit

British evangelicals are divided over Brexit. The January 31 deadline for the nation’s departure from the European Union is fast approaching, and Thursday’s elections gave the Conservative Party a historic victory and “a powerful new mandate to get Brexit done,” according to Prime Minister Boris Johnson. As evangelicals absorb the news, they are grappling with the political tumult, the ongoing uncertainty, and the question of what a Christian should do in these difficult times.

In my first piece for Christianity Today’s News & Reporting section, I talked to leading experts and everyday evangelicals about prayer, prophecy, and hospitality in the ever-changing scene of British Brexit politics.

Would Martin Luther vote for a "neo-Nazi" party?

“Hier stehe ich und kann nicht anders.” // “Here I stand, I cannot do otherwise.”

Inspired by his original defiant declaration at the Diet of Worms in 1521, the apocryphal saying of the 16th-century rebel monk and reformer Martin Luther has come to be a proud proverb of Protestantism and symbolic of virtuous subversion. 

However, in the run-up to state elections in the eastern German state of Thuringia on October 27th, the National Democratic Party (NDP) is playing off the famous phrase on some of their election posters. 

Instead of “Here I stand,” Martin Luther is made to say, “I would vote NPD, I cannot do otherwise” alongside the NPD’s slogan “defend the homeland.”

Rugby player carries the weight of New Zealand's Muslims at Rugby World Cup in Japan

When the New Zealand national rugby team — the All Blacks — run onto the “pitch” for their matches at the Rugby World Cup in Japan, the weight of the nation will be on their shoulders. 

The Rugby World Cup, like its soccer counterpart, is held every four years and is the premier international rugby tournament in the world. It started 20 September and will last until 2 November.

More than sport, rugby is nigh on national religion in New Zealand. Perhaps because of this high devotion, one of the most successful sports teams in the world, the All Blacks’ every pass, tackle, and kick is scrutinized in detail by foe and friend alike. This is especially the case with one of the teams’ premier midfielders, Sonny Bill Williams. 

Sonny Bill Williams prays with fellow All Black and Muslim Ofa Tu'ungafasi (who converted in March 2019) before their first bout with South Africa at the 2019 Rugby World Cup in Japan. (PHOTO: @faiz_azizan)

One of the best-known rugby players in the world, Williams has stirred up his fair share of controversy over the years playing rugby union, rugby league, and trying his hand at boxing. Known for some pretty wild escapades in his early years, he has now become a seasoned rugby player and leader in both sport and society. Still, he faces scrutiny in the press for his play and his personality. 

This Rugby World Cup, Williams is also humbly aware of the responsibility he has representing the Muslim community of New Zealand. This is especially true in light of the 15th of March attacks that left 51 dead after a gunman opened fire in Masjid Al Noor and the Linwood Islamic Center.  

The attacks spurred Williams into action on behalf of his fellow Muslims. In the days following he not only visited families who lost loved ones, but also took time to spend time with the injured and pray at Masjid Al Noor with survivors. 

Dr. Anwar Ghani, spokesperson for the Federation of Islamic Associations in New Zealand (FIANZ) said that over the last four to five years, Williams had been speaking out about his religion and how this made him a better person.

“But after the 15th of March, he became more vocal, you could tell he was affected,” Ghani said. 

Indeed, in an emotional message on social media on the day of the attacks, Williams fought through tears to send duas — non-obligatory prayers of request — for the victims, their families, their friends, and all of New Zealand. 

Williams said, “I’m just deeply, deeply saddened that this would happen in New Zealand.” 

Williams’ words and actions were in keeping with the outpouring of support that the Muslim community received after the attacks, but his stood out. 

“He showed he is a man of faith and a man who embraces humanity,” Ghani said, “people were horrified with what happened at those two mosques, his coming out helped in the healing process as well. Especially as one of our sporting heroes.”

Williams’ actions not only inspired New Zealanders, but his own mother and best friend. Within two weeks after the attacks, both converted to Islam. 

Mr. Abdullah Drury, a professor of Islamic Studies at Waikato University in Hamilton, New Zealand, said, “because Williams is a convert, I think he is seen more as a New Zealander, as a Cook Island New Zealander, than a Muslim. His Islam is not ‘obvious.’” 

Drury said, “easily, he is the most prominent New Zealand Muslim.” 

View this post on Instagram

Nice spending time with some of the brothers & sisters here in Christchurch ❤️🤲🏽

A post shared by Sonny Bill Williams (@sonnybillwilliams) on Aug 19, 2019 at 11:01pm PDT

“When he turns up at mosques — and he does so fairly regularly — he is often mobbed by youth who take lots of selfies,” said Drury. He continued, “in a secular country where most religious folk keep their faith to themselves in public, he has raised a positive profile for Islam in New Zealand.” 

Islam has a long history in New Zealand, according to Eva Nisa and Faried F. Saenong, researchers at Victoria University in Wellington. Writing for The Conversation, they reported that while Muslims make up just 1% of the population, “historical accounts document that Islam first arrived in New Zealand in 1769, with two Indian Muslims.”

Largely still a “religion of immigrants and refugees” 26.9% of Muslims in New Zealand come from Asia, 23.3% from the Middle East and North Africa, and 21% from the Pacific Islands, including the Cook Islands where Williams claims his heritage. 

Certainly, the Muslim community in New Zealand was shaken by the attacks six months ago. “We are broken-hearted but we are not broken,” wrote Nisa and Saenong. 

Despite the difficulties of healing, Ghani feels that Islam in New Zealand has a bright future and an important role to play in continuing to build the country’s “peaceful” society. “While we have had a setback, we have seen lots of positives coming out of Christchurch,” he said, “we hope that we would remember the day — as heinous as it was — as something that brings us together to make positive changes not only in New Zealand but around the world.” 

Ghani said that inter-religious engagement has been on the rise and multiple stakeholders have realized — regardless of religious or political leaning — that the vision of a multicultural New Zealand remain fluid. Fissures continue to exist. 

As a Pacific Islander, a Muslim, and one of the most prominent Kiwis in the world, Williams is keenly aware of the tensions that run through the community and the part he plays as a role model in such a society. 

Converting to Islam turned Williams’ life around. He told the Daily Mail, “I did a lot of bad things and went off course but Allah was with me.” In Islam, Williams said, he found “contentment and happiness that I don’t know how to explain.” 

Along the way, Williams has wrestled with finding acceptance for Islam and Muslims among his countrymen. Williams told MSN Lifestyle that his message for non-Muslims is, "We love you. We just want to be accepted like you guys want to be accepted.”

For his fellow Muslims, Williams bears a message of love, support, and peace. Regularly on social media, he posts about visiting mosques around the island (LINK) and posting messages of support for his “brothers and sisters around the world.” 

Sonny Bill Williams posts Eid greetings in the spirit of solidarity with fellow Muslims across the world (PHOTO: @SonnyBWilliams)

But he also uses his following of more than 778 thousand on Instagram to bring attention to critical issues. On Eid al-Adha, he posted “special duas for the people of Christchurch, Kashmir, Palestine, Syria, Yemen, Iraq and wherever people are suffering injustice and persecution.”

The rugby in Japan has so far proved grueling and the pressure placed on the All Blacks — and on Williams — is extremely high. Yet, in either his pursuit of rugby glory or in representing the global Muslim community as a world-famous athlete, Williams regularly comments on how he draws his strength from Allah. As he does so, he might look to a saying of the Prophet Muhammad for motivation along the way: "The strong believer is better and more beloved to Allah than the weak believer, while there is good in both.”

What does the Hajj mean to millions of Muslims?

Nearly 2 million Muslims will gather in the holy city of Mecca in Saudi Arabia on Aug. 9 for an annual pilgrimage known as the hajj. 

The five-day journey is a once-in-a-lifetime obligation for all Muslims who are physically and financially able to undertake it. It is considered the fifth pillar of Islamic practice, along with professing faith, saying five prayers daily, giving to charity and fasting during Ramadan. 

In calling Muslims to perform the hajj, the Quran says: “Proclaim to men the pilgrimage: they will come to thee on foot and on every lean camel, coming from every remote path.” 

The millions of Muslims from around the world who meet each year in Saudi Arabia dress simply to mask any differences in wealth and status. Women wear plain, white dresses and headscarves. Men drape themselves in seamless, unhemmed clothing.

As a scholar of global Islam, I’ve interviewed many Muslims who have gone on the hajj. They have described to me having profound experiences on the pilgrimage, both political and spiritual.

Amid Ramadan celebrations, Jordanians fear an uncertain future

Traveling in Jordan during Ramadan presents a buffet of both blessings and challenges.

On the one hand, it’s a joy to experience the alternate rhythm of a nation fasting from food, drink, and the pleasures of life from sunrise to sunset and to observe how that changes the daily schedule and provides margins of time and space for spiritual reflection and rejuvenation.

On the other hand, it can be hard to grab lunch at that café you heard about in Abdoun because almost nothing is open for business during the holy month of fasting.

On the whole, I truly enjoyed my time in Jordan and the opportunity to experience the fasting and the feasting with Jordanians who quickly became friends. During iftars — meals in the evening to break the daily fast — and in a couple of local mosques, I got the chance to talk to young Jordanians about the country’s present and its potential futures.

The result is my latest piece with Religion News Service, which explores the many reasons why young Jordanians are uncertain about their kingdom’s future.

Find out why and read more by clicking below:

Fellowship with Spiritual Exemplars Project

What role does religion play in motivating exemplary individuals to commit their lives to humanitarian work? How does engaged spirituality sustain their work in the face of great challenges?

These are the questions I will help the University of Southern California’s (USC) Center for Religion and Civic Culture (CRCC) explore as a journalist-fellow reporting on, “Spiritual Exemplars: A Global Project on Engaged Spirituality.”

I am humbled, honored, and terribly excited to join a team of top-notch journalists from around the globe to help report on and write profiles about individuals working on humanitarian causes, such as poverty and  human rights.

The journalist-fellows for the Spiritual Exemplars Project. (PHOTO: USC Center for Religion and Civic Culture)

These “exemplars” are often inspired and sustained by their spiritual beliefs and practices. Whether they are Buddhist, Muslim or Christian — or do not adhere to any particular tradition — their spirituality compels them to be engaged with the world.

Religion and spirituality matter. They motivate us. They move us inwardly and outwardly and move with us across the globe. Throughout the annals of time and over vast geographic boundaries, religion and spirituality have helped humans express their deepest questions, confront some of the most critical issues of life, and influenced virtually every human society, civilization, or culture since the dawn of human history. 

Despite their ubiquity and importance, religion and spirituality are still relatively misunderstood. Even if they are valued, there remains a blind spot in our critical, but compassionate understanding of how religion and spirituality function in the lives of some of humanity’s most inspiring individuals and compelling communities. In the U.S., but also abroad, we suffer from what scholar Stephen Prothero calls, “religious illiteracy.” 

That is why it is important for us to seek to understand religion and spirituality in all of its vast diversity and from a variety of perspectives. 

The USC Center for Religion and Civic Culture studies, documents and helps communities understand the changes that shape religious cultures in Southern California and across the globe.

My writing, teaching, and speaking have been geared toward addressing religious illiteracy since I started with my first blog back in 2007. Given that the USC Center for Religion and Civic Culture studies, documents and helps communities understand the changes that shape religious cultures in Southern California and across the globe, I saw working with their Spiritual Exemplars Project as a prime opportunity to continue that work. Through my work over the next couple of years I aim to continue to shine light on how religion and spirituality function in the lives of exemplars and their communities in a diverse array of places and from multiple points of view.

If we want to understand our world and how the complexities of the human condition inform behavior in changing contexts, we must pay attention to the role of religious traditions and spiritual practices. Not only will this allow us to better appreciate the human condition and apperceive its highest shared values, but it might improve the possibility of addressing some of humanity’s most urgent shared challenges. 

Although the foundations of modern religion are shifting and spirituality as we have long known it is undergoing daily transformations, neither shows any signs of going away. Religion and spirituality will remain tenaciously important and will continue to impact human societies for the foreseeable future, playing a role in addressing the world’s most intractable problems — both for good and for ill. 

For these reasons and more, I am beyond thrilled to be a journalist-fellow with the Spiritual Exemplars Project and look forward to the stories, reports, and scholarly work that comes out of our work together over the next two-and-a-half years.

Be on the lookout for stories from the project on this website. If you have not already, be sure to sign up for my e-mail list so you can stay up-to-date with all the latest religion and culture news!

"Brewery church" story goes down smooth, but questions still bubble up

If you know me at all, you know that my interests in beer and religion are both relatively high.

That’s why when I came across Castle Church Brewing Community in Orlando, Florida I jumped at the opportunity to report on the “brewery church” for the Religion News Service (RNS).

Beyond the surface phenomena (and all the beer+religion puns like, “frothy faith”) there was a deeper resonant story at Castle Church that I wanted to tell — a story of church changing as we know it, of 30-somethings looking for home, and issues surrounding notions of class, gender, and race.

The story I wrote for RNS touches on these themes and invites you to reflect a little more on the significance of a brewery that is a church, a church that is also a brewery. As you read the story, enjoy the gimmick. Sure. But beyond the “beer church” novelty, take a moment to reflect on questions such as:

• What can a “brewery church” tell us about American religion? American Christianity?

• Why — at this moment in time — is such an idea popular let alone feasible?

• Who might be attracted by such a model? Why?

• Who is potentially marginalized by such a model? Women? People in the neighborhood north of Orlando International Airport that can’t afford craft beer? Good ole’ Florida boys looking for a Budweiser? Is this just a place for cis white males who want to play Settlers of Catan, drink beer, and debate Augustine?

These questions and conversations are still fermenting in my own mind (sorry, couldn’t help another beer pun!) and I don’t have any ready answers after my reporting. Furthermore, each of the people I interviewed for this story — Rev. Jared Witt, Dr. Annie Blazer, Jeremy Carnes, and others — had also thought about these issues and had some weighty and worthwhile comments to make on each.

With that in mind, I invite you to share your thoughts, send your questions, or post a comment on this blog or at ReligionNews.com by clicking the link below.

Museums’ mislabeling can leave visitors with misconceptions of biblical -- or 'quranic' -- proportions

With its long and tangled history, biblical iconography is a minefield for misattribution and mislabeling, especially as even casual knowledge of the Bible and other sacred texts is on the decline.

Some museums and organizations have had to admit some pretty embarrassing faux pas in recent weeks, wrote Menachem Wecker for the Religion News Service (RNS).

In his excellently reported piece, I had the opportunity to build on the biblical blunders and share about how Islamic subjects are also vulnerable to error.

Read the entire piece to find out about the epic mislabeling about topics in the Bible and the Qur’an that can lead to major misconceptions among museum goers…

Explaining the Hajj pilgrimage

Nearly 2 million Muslim pilgrims are gathering in the holy city of Mecca in Saudi Arabia for the Hajj. This five-day pilgrimage is a once-in-a-lifetime obligation for all Muslims who have the physical and financial ability to undertake the journey.

Millions of Muslims come from countries as diverse as Indonesia, Russia, India, Cuba, Fiji, the United States and Nigeria – all dressed in plain white garments.

Men wear seamless, unstitched clothing, and women, white dresses with headscarves. The idea is to dress plainly so as to mask any differences in wealth and status. 

The pilgrimage is considered to be the fifth pillar of Islamic practice. The other four are the profession of faith, five daily prayers, charity and the fast of Ramadan.

What is the religious and political significance of this annual pilgrimage?

RNA's 2018 Lifetime Achievement Award

I never set out to be a writer. That was never the intention. My original goal was simple, if audacious: I wanted to make the world a little bit smarter when it comes to the topic of religion. 

I wanted to combat what Stephen Prothero famously coined, "religious illiteracy." I still do. 

That is why I started writing with Houston Chronicle in 2010, that is why I joined the Religion News Association (RNA) in 2011, and that is why I continue to be a part of that fantastic organization. RNA is the premier journalism association for people who write about religion in the news media. We offer training and tools to help journalists cover religion with balance, accuracy and insight.

Because of this mission, RNA does a lot to combat "religious illiteracy" and to build capacity for "religious literacy" through media production and publication. Its members do radio, broadcast television, and write for everything from local papers to metropolitan magazines. They do the hard yards of reporting on religion in a world that seldom seems to understand it. And they do it with class and verve. 

I am always impressed by the caliber of my colleagues in the RNA and no more so when I get to be a part of the process of choosing our William A. Reed Lifetime Achivement Award recipient each year. This year is no exception. At the 69th Annual RNA Conference in Columbus, Ohio (September 13-15, 2018) we will honor Ann Rodgers for her many years of dedication on the "God beat" and her tireless service to the RNA. 

Ann Rodgers, recipient of the 2018 RNA Lifetime Achievement Award. (PHOTO: RNA)

In addition to serving as president of the RNA during a time of significant transition and growth, Rodgers faithfully served on the religion beat in New Hampshire, Florida, and finally in Pittsburgh, Pa., for more than three decades. Her career covered papal transitions, evangelical scandal, and an increasing diversity of faith expressions that caught her attention. 

To read the full profile of Ann and hear from those who worked with her click the link below. 

Also, as you feel inspired by Ann's work I highly encourage you to join me in Columbus, OH for the RNA Conference. If you care about religious literacy and accuracy and fairness in religion reporting then this is the place for you to be. LEARN MORE HERE. 

Commenting on quotes in Christianity Today

“Two years ago, the heroic actions of some Kenyan Muslims brought their majority-Christian nation together. The Oscar-nominated film depiction of that heroism may do so again—if many people watch. Watu Wote is a fictional retelling of real-life horror.”

— Jayson Casper, Christianity Today

When Mr. Casper reached out to talk to me about Watu Wote, a 22-minute film about Muslims protecting Christians from a militant attack that was nominated for the Live Action Short Film category at the 90th Academy Awards, I was excited to share some of my perspective and research from my time in Kenya back between 2012-2014. 

I am happy with how the Christianity Today article came out, but I wanted to share my full comments to give my measured critique and muted optimism a bit more context than what Mr. Casper ever could in this article (not his fault, that's just the nature of a piece like that!).

In the end, while I laud the Muslims who protected their Christian brothers and sisters and believe that Kenyans will continue to find their own ways to inter-religious harmony and cooperation (as they often have in the past) I believe that film representations such as Watu Wote -- and the discourse surrounding it -- can veer dangerously close to playing the game of “good Muslim”/“bad Muslim” where “good Muslims” are those who protect Christians and “bad Muslims” are those who attack Christians. The truth is much more muddled and this type of representation puts the onus on Muslims to be the ones to have to change for interfaith peace to be possible rather than reminding Christians in Kenya -- and elsewhere -- that they have a massive part to play.

My comments about viewing "Somalis as Samaritans" echo this sentiment and call Christians to critically consider how their postures might need to shift in order for inter-religious peace to be proceeding apace. Read my full interview below...

• You noticed a tendency among evangelicals to move from describing Muslims/Somalis as shifta to Samaritans. What does this mean in terms of interfaith relations, or Kenyan unity?

The way we frame, define, or imagine ourselves and others plays a critical role in how we think, speak, and act. It also informs how we vote, how we live our lives in day-to-day relations, where we live, who we interact with, and how we interact with them. 

In this particular case, I thought it was interesting to note how the evangelical Christians I was talking to so readily identified “their Samaritans” as Somalis — and the “Somali Muslim” in particular. 

On the one hand, it illustrated a certain softening of their views toward Somalis, their neighbors to the north. They were not viewing them simply as “shifta” — bandits — but instead as Samaritans. This is significant from an evangelical perspective for two reasons. First, in the context of Samaritans as they are discussed in the Gospels, the Samaritan is the one who helps a man heal from an attack by bandits on the Jericho road. Second, they were seen as related to, and yet distinct from, the Judeans that Jesus predominately did his work among. And so, when these evangelical Christians referred to Somalis as Samaritans they were trying to say that Somalis were not necessarily bandits, enemies, or inherently evil (as the blanket term “shifta” implies), but possibly even heroes in certain stories (as with the “Good Samaritan”). They were also saying that while Kenyans (here imagined as “Judeans”) and Somalis are different, they are also related in terms of geography, history, and culture. It was a way for these evangelical Christians to make Somalis relatable, redeemable, and respectable within the frameworks of their conceptual Christian universe. This perspective is a whole lot more positive than a lot of the popular, political, or public representations of Somalis swirling around at the time of the Westgate Mall attacks and against the backdrop of violent al-Shabaab militancy. 

On the other hand, these evangelical Christians were still seeking to maintain boundaries and their positions of power in Kenya’s political, geographic, religious, and social context. For the Judeans of Jesus’ day, Samaritans were “other.” So too for these Kenyan Christians, Somalis are still maintained as “other” when called Samaritans. As I wrote in the paper, “with an influx of Somali migrants in Kenya, in rural settlements but even more in urban areas, and the growth of Islam (real or perceived) and the accompanying connections of people via transportation, monetary dealings and communication technologies, Kenyan evangelicals’ need for boundaries is felt ever more strongly on economic, political, social and religious levels. With Somalis long defined as ‘the other’ in contradistinction to ‘the Kenyan’ and his/her way of life, the increased presence of Somalis in Kenya’s cities, economy, political realm, headlines and national psyche threatens to blur boundaries and deconstruct Kenyan identity. This is even more pronounced within evangelical circles as Somalis/Muslims threaten the evangelical community ethos, which is intricately tied up with local social life, economics and politics. Hence, the evangelizing stance toward Somalis. With Christians in close contact with Somalis at the economic, political, social and religious levels, Somalis can no longer be alienated as shifta, as bandits at the border or in the hinterland of ‘Greater Somalia’, but must now be perceived as ‘other’ in a different, perhaps more redeemable, way. Thus, evangelization [the goal to convert Somali/Samaritans into Christians/Kenyans] is still a tool used to portray Somalis/Muslims as fundamentally different, and even opposed to, what it is to be Kenyan/Christian, although there is still is a noticeable modification in perception.”

Specifically, in terms of interfaith relations and Kenyan unity, this means that there is now more room in the imagination for Somalis to be part of Kenya.

Like I said, there is a certain softening in perception in this shift from imagining Somalis as shifta to imagining them as Samaritans. However, how Somalis become part of a unified Kenya is still very much on the Kenyan Christians’ own terms. They must be converted in order to truly be “Judeans” or, in this case, Kenyans. 

This shift is a mixed bag for interfaith relations. While conversations across boundaries of identity must begin with an imaginative engagement and empathy with the perceived “other,” this shift in the imagination concerning Somalis doesn’t quite fill me with confidence that encounters between Somali Muslims and Kenyan Christians will necessarily always be valuable. They could be, but there are still a lot of boundaries — physical, conceptual, theological — to be crossed. 

With that said, there are many encouraging stories that speak of healthy, valuable, and elegant relationships between Christians and Muslims in Eastern Africa. My research did not focus on those, but you can find others who have written about these stories in popular and academic venues. 

• Do other non-evangelical Christians mirror this move? How would you characterize Christians as a whole at either the pole of shifta, or at the other of citizenship?

Yes, other Christians mirror this move or even go beyond. While I did not perform a comprehensive survey of evangelicals in Kenya — or perform in-depth ethnography — I talked with many Christians from broader evangelical traditions as part of this research. I have also received feedback about this piece from others that has helped me better understand. 

First, during my research, I talked with other Christians who agreed with the characterization of Somalis as Samaritans rather than as shifta. Others have echoed this in reaction to my article and said things to the effect of, “that’s exactly it! I would maybe have not used the same language, but Somalis are our Samaritans!” Still, others have disagreed. One young woman told me that, “this doesn’t match my experience.” She said, “for me Somalis are Somalis. They are good people, hard-working, loving, neighbors, friends, and co-workers. I wouldn’t call them Samaritans. I would just call them my friends.” 

And so, I think it is impossible to characterize the Christian view of Somalis in any one way. I think it falls along a spectrum from extreme fear, hate, and distrust to radical openness, hospitality, and perhaps even relative indifference to who Somalis are or what is being said about them. The vast majority probably fall in the middle and that is part of what I was trying to capture in my piece. Evangelical Christians are perhaps shifting their conceptions of Somalis, but they still haven’t moved to open engagement, hospitality, or the dissolution of boundaries. 

Many of the Christians I talked to discussed how they are friends, neighbors, or colleagues with Muslims (Kenyan or Somali). They expressed how they trusted them in business, enjoyed conversations with them, and generally had no problem interacting with them. They never expressed any fears that they were taking over, corrupting, or soon to attack the nation or people of Kenya. 

At the same time, many of these same evangelical Christians would emphasize the need to convert them, to open their eyes to the way of Jesus, and would hint that this was the only way they could truly be brothers and sisters with them. Some didn’t say this and assumed the common humanity between Muslims and Christians, but enough did that I think it would be the majority opinion. 

• What is it that would draw Kenyans toward better interfaith relations? Would a film like Watu Wote be more effective than government or religious statements or sermons? Or less?

More conversations, intentional interactions, and a reduced-tension political environment would all go a long way in improving better interfaith relations in Kenya. The first two are largely in the hands of Eastern Africans. 

The latter, however, is enmeshed in the broader, global, “War on Terror.” As long as Eastern Africa is imagined as a key “battleground” in the “War on Terror” and Kenya and Somalia as a “bloody border” between Muslims and Christians (a la Samuel Huntington’s “Clash of Civilizations” thesis) interfaith relations will continue to remain tense. 

In general, I believe that Christians in Kenya are keen to build bridges with their Muslim neighbors. You see this in the softening of their language, in the openness of their imagination, and even in their desire to evangelize. 

A film like Watu Wote can do two things to help move conversations and interactions between Muslims and Christians in a positive direction. First, as an interactive artifact of popular culture it can perhaps serve as a guiding light, or cultural touchpoint, that Christians and Muslims can turn to and say, “Look, see, how in this instance Muslims and Christians saw in each other common humanity and protected one another against violence and hate?!” Second, it can serve as the basis for further conversations. Christians and Muslims could gather around to watch, discuss, and interpret the film together. Art and culture can serve as beautiful vehicles for interfaith engagement and conversation. This film can help move interfaith conversations forward by providing an imaginative, and engaging, means to talk about our common humanity and our shared values. 

However, I must also caution that this film seems geared toward a Western audience. I’d be curious to know just how successful it was in Kenya (I am not saying it wasn’t, I just didn’t see any firm statistics). That it was directed by a German and nominated for an Academy Award speaks to how Western audiences are drawn to this type of narrative. While it is good that we see that “Muslims aren’t terrorists” in popular culture we should also be careful — as outsiders and Westerners — to not enforce or overly encourage our own versions and visions of interfaith peace on Christians, Muslims, and others in Kenya and Somalia. In the end, it will not be a film that will change the future, but the daily interactions between Muslims and Christians on the ground in these areas and places. This may not bring about rapid change, but through the glacial grind of time the relationships formed between Muslims and Christians in small towns like Oloitokitok, in transit centers like Emali, or in cities like Nairobi will be where the work gets done and lives are transformed. 

• Might Christian or evangelical Kenyans be upset at the film’s positive portrayal of Muslims/Islam, or instead see it as a reinforcement of national unity? How would you describe the tension between a desire for Christian exclusivism and a desire for national peace?

I don’t imagine that the Kenyan Christians I talked to would be necessarily upset about the positive portrayal of Muslims in this case. I think that fact will be celebrated. I think it will be, and most likely has been, celebrated as a symbol of potential national unity and common humanity. 

It must be said that al-Shabaab is still al-Shabaab here. There is still an enemy in this film. It’s not Muslims, but a particular type of Muslim that is being condemned in this film. The film is seemingly trying to shift the “us” v. “them” from that of Kenyan Christian v. Somali Muslim to peace lovers v. violent extremists. I don’t think evangelical Christians should be against such a portrayal and would most likely cheer it. 

However, the film would still need to be critiqued to see what new “others” it is creating here and if members of al-Shabaab are being made out as inhuman when juxtaposed with the Muslims protecting Christians. It seems to me that perhaps there is a game of “good Muslim”/“bad Muslim” being played out in this film where “good Muslims” are those who protect Christians and “bad Muslims” are those who attack Christians. Just like with the shift from shifta to Samaritan, the game is still being played on Christian ground. Muslims must conform. Muslims must perform certain actions. Muslims must be good for us all to get along. The primary onus of maintaining peace and unity is placed on Muslims and not as fully on Christians. 

I don’t think a desire for Christian exclusivism is necessarily antithetical to a desire for national peace. However, the question must be asked what norms are certain participants in these cultural, political and social conversations expecting national peace and unity to conform? Is it that to be unified we must all be the same religion? Most Kenyans (or Americans or Germans for that matter) are not so naive to actually think so, but sometimes the language and imagination around this issue seems to hint at such a point of view. 

What might truly help this conversation about national unity move forward would be if Muslims — Somali, Kenyan, or otherwise — were permitted in popular culture, the public imagination, and in political terms to be accepted and affirmed as they are, not as how evangelical Christians, or others, imagine them or want them to be.  

I am reminded here of a quote from Kwame A. Appiah in his book Cosmopolitanism where he wrote, “…conversations across boundaries of identity — whether national, religious, or something else — begin with the sort of imaginative engagement you get when you read a novel or watch a movie or attend to a work of art that speaks from someplace other than your own….the encounters, properly conducted, are valuable in themselves. Conversation doesn’t have to lead to a consensus about anything, especially not values; it’s enough that it helps people get used to one another.” (Kindle locs. 1347-1366)

Hola, Allah: Welcome to the Country’s Only Latino Mosque

You step into a place like Centro Islámico, and you don’t feel marginalized. You’re able to be Latino and Muslim at the same time. Your identity is whole.

These are some of the words I shared with Houstonia magazine writer Adam Doster. Having lived in Houston for four years, studied alongside Latinx Muslims in my time there, and continuing as a scholar interested in how Muslim communities in Latin America, the Caribbean, and the Latinx U.S. thrive, adapt, and grow I was honored to contribute to Adam's story. 

For more on how these Latinx Muslims have made Houston their home and to read some of my commentary, click the link below.