Giving

“those who spend their wealth to increase in self-purification (yatazakka)”

(al-Layl 92:18)

Yasmina:

Giving of one’s wealth is not unique to Islam, but the Arabic word yatazakka—from zakat, which means both to purify and grow—has a particularly beautiful connotation. Zakat is often compared to the pruning of a shrub, where the trimming actually causes the plant to grow stronger. Similarly, the trimming of wealth through the giving of alms purifies and strengthens the soul. In Islam, to use the trust given by God—here, personal wealth—in the proper manner helps rid a person of his/her worldly attachments. The Quran describes this quest to purify one’s soul, tazqiyat an-nufoos, as a lifelong process: “To a happy state shall indeed attain he who causes [this self] to grow in purity, and truly lost is he who buries it in darkness.” (al-Shams 91:9-10) The examination of one’s heart, practices and desires leads a person to see tribulations as opportunities for the cleansing of the soul and the attainment of insight and understanding. I cannot but marvel at the beauty of the Arabic language, in which one word in the Quran encompasses the complex concept of spiritual growth.

Grace:

It is interesting, I think, that Christian scriptures almost always pair discussions of wealth with cautionary warnings, such as, “it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God.” (Mark 10:25; Matthew 19:24; Luke 18:25) Similar to the Quranic text you cite, Yasmina, this verse does not condemn wealth, but warns against worldly attachments. In a particularly poignant illustration, Jesus speaks of a poor widow who placed two small copper coins in the Temple’s alms basin. Contrasting her with those who gave more but did so ostentatiously, Jesus observed, “This poor widow has put in more than all the others, [for she] put in all she had.” (Luke 21:3) Yatazakka seems an apt description of those who, in quiet generosity and humble sacrifice, discover the meaning of heavenly treasure.

Tziporah:

It will not surprise you that the Jewish concept of charity, tzedakah, is similar to zakat as you explain it, Yasmina, and to the verses of the Gospels that you quote, Grace. While the English word “charity” derives from the Latin root for love and caring, tzedakah is from the biblical Hebrew root for righteousness.  Tzedakah is the obligation in Jewish law to share a portion of one’s wealth with others in need.* Inherent in this commandment is the recognition that everything we possess—both tangible things like money and intangible things like intelligence—is on loan to us for the duration of our lives.  God allows us to feel as though we personally possess these gifts, as long as we strive to share and distribute them fairly among the entire community. When we give tzedakah, we are restoring righteousness in the world by returning the gift to its rightful owner.

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* For example: “Because there will not stop being indigent [people] in the land; on account of this I command you, saying, you shall open your hand to your brother, to your poor and indigent in your land.”  (Deuteronomy 15:11)

Time to Reflect

This week we are taking a little extra time to reflect, and we expect to post our reflections next Wednesday morning, May 2nd. Meanwhile, we invite you to share your responses to our more than thirty posts in the archive. Which text or conversation did you find to be provocative? Did any strike you as insightful or interesting, or make you uncomfortable? Do you have any questions or comments for us?

We would love for you join our discussion: Just click on the title above! Please remember to frame your comments as personal reflections, using the first-person singular, as we aim to preserve She Answers Abraham as a safe space for these sacred conversations.

Burial

The body that is sown is perishable, it is raised imperishable; it is sown in dishonor, it is raised in glory; it is sown in weakness, it is raised in power; it is sown a natural body, it is raised a spiritual body.   

(I Corinthians 15: 42b-44)

Grace:

Our discussion last week about organ donation raises my curiosity and interest about burial practices in our three Abrahamic traditions.  I can recall a time when cremation was essentially unheard of in Christian practice; pastors and priests taught that the reverent preparation of Jesus’ body for burial pointed to the only way for Christians to honor the physical body after death.  It was startling to me, then, when my own father, a deeply religious man and passionate steward of the earth, declared that he wanted to be cremated because “my spiritual, not physical, body will be raised” and “I don’t want to take up space in the good earth that could be used for growing crops to feed a hungry world.” While Christians of some denominations still require or prefer burial, most now consider this to be a matter of personal preference rather than religious mandate. What religious teachings govern your practices?

Yasmina:

Islamic burial practices, to this day, follow the teachings of the prophet Muhammad [Peace and Blessings be upon Him]. First, the absence of adornment in every stage of the process reflects a respect for the deceased. The prophet’s instructions also include details about the steps to be taken when death occurs, and dictate participation in the funeral procession and prayers as a communal obligation, or fard qifayah.[1]  Thus, it is the responsibility of all members of the community to ensure that every Muslim who dies is properly tended. The body of the deceased is washed with gentle care at least three times, usually by a family member, and then shrouded in white cloth. A communal prayer is performed at this stage, and then the shrouded body is placed without a casket in the grave, and laid on its right side facing Mecca. Based on a description in Quran of the honor given to the progeny of Adam and a Hadith stating that the treatment of a dead body should be similar to that of a living one,[2] cremation is strictly prohibited in Islam.

Tziporah:

Given the historical context in which Jesus lived, I am not surprised that the preparation of Jesus’ body for burial followed Jewish rituals and customs. Since ancient times, Jewish tradition has dictated that once the body is washed, wrapped in shrouds and placed on a bier or in an unadorned coffin, it must be buried before nightfall.  Nowadays, burial may be delayed for mourners traveling great distances to be present.  If the body remains overnight—which modern refrigeration makes possible—it is never left unattended.  Instead, a member of the family or community is assigned to be a shomer, or guard, who sits with the body and recites Psalms.  All of the burial customs are expressions of the principle of k’vod ha-meit, respect for the dead. Embalming and applying make-up or clothing to the body are forbidden, and cremation is considered a desecration. While cremation may be gaining some acceptance among Jews in the U.S., most consider it inappropriate. Even Jews who are otherwise unconcerned about upholding the traditions are generally opposed to cremation out of respect for the many Jews who were cremated in death camps during the Holocaust.

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[1] “The rights of a Muslim on the Muslims are to follow the funeral processions, to accept invitation, and to reply to the sneezer.” (Sahih Bukhari, Hadith 332)

 

[2] “Breaking the bones of a dead body is like breaking the bones of a living one.” (Related by Ahmad, Abu Dawud and Ibn Majah)

Resurrection

Thus said the Lord God to these bones: “I will cause breath to enter you and you shall live again. I will lay sinews upon you, and cover you with flesh, and form skin over you. And I will put breath into you, and you shall live again. And you shall know that I am the Lord!”

(Ezekiel 37:5-6)

Tziporah:

Jewish prophecies of resurrection express the unimaginable power of God to give life to the lifeless.  In the traditional liturgy, when we praise God for gevurah, strength, we refer to God’s unique capability to make the dead rise. Because many Jews believe that the messiah’s arrival will herald the resurrection of the dead and the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem, they are buried in Israel to be present at the propitious moment. Some Jews argue against organ donation, because they believe it is critical that their bodies be buried intact to be resurrected.  I can’t agree with this idea, though; if God can raise me from death, can’t God endow me with a new kidney? Unlike God, humans do not have the power to resurrect the dead, but we are capable of saving lives. The rabbis considered pikuach nefesh, preserving life, to be the highest principle, and they legislated that Jews exercise this power—even when it conflicts with the observance of the Sabbath or dietary laws, and even if it means breaking one’s fast on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year.  I imagine that Christianity and Islam, like Judaism, have multiple views of organ donation. Could you please share your thoughts?

Grace:

It will not surprise you, Tziporah, that these words of the prophet Ezekiel are often contemplated by Christians in preparation for Easter, since Christians see this prophecy as fulfilled in the resurrection of Jesus and its eternal witness to the unimaginable power of God to give life to the lifeless. Indeed, Resurrection is at the heart of the Christian faith.  In worship liturgies that include the Nicene Creed, Christians affirm, “I believe in the resurrection of the body and the life everlasting.” The resurrected body, however, is understood to be a spiritual body, fully recognizable, but not flesh and bones as is the physical body that returns to dust. Organ donation, then, is not verboten in most Christian practice and may even be encouraged as a way of passing along the gift of life when one’s earthly body is too compromised to continue—a definite act of faith.

Yasmina:

Tziporah, the majority of scholars in Islam agree that it is permissible to donate organs based on the general rule that “necessities permit the prohibited,”[1] and because the ultimate goal is the preservation of life. This view is supported by verses in the Quran. On the other hand, scholars who disagree with the practice state that organ donation compromises the special honor given to man’s body, whether dead or alive. From these two views, one can see that the notion of resurrection, although a fundamental Islamic belief, is not linked to the issue of organ donation.  The justification for this separation is based on several Quranic verses, which reaffirm the immeasurable and infinite power of God. One example reads, “Does man imagine that We are not capable of reassembling his decayed bones? We are able even to restore his fingers to their previous state.” (al-Qiyamah 75:3-4) I personally admire the generosity of individuals who act in utter selflessness and who, when faced with such challenging choices, give new meaning to the word “sharing.”

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[1] Al-darurat tubih al-mahzurat

Forgiveness

“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”  (The Gospel of Luke 23:34)

Grace:

In “The Lord’s Prayer,” Christians beseech God daily to “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”  How difficult, for any human being, is the second part of this petition, especially when the trespass is betrayal, when hurt turns so naturally into anger and perhaps even desire for revenge.  On Good Friday of this Holy Week in Christianity, I will be compelled to gaze upon the Mystery of humility in the face of humiliation and the redemptive Grace of sacrificial love. Many Christians will speak of “Atonement” in the sacrifice of Jesus’ life for love of all humanity; I will meditate on the “at ONE ment” that I believe happens when persons of all faiths humble themselves before God in the midst of heinous crimes, horrid persecutions, and hideous curses, to pray through the heartbreaking agony that only God’s love can heal: “Father, forgive.”

Tziporah:

Before I read your reflection, Grace, my mind wandered from the verse in Luke to events unfolding around the country.  The words, “for they know not what they do,” while spoken genuinely and recorded in this passage, can seem like an attempt to excuse the many wrongs we commit.  Claiming the consequences of our behavior to be unintended, we humans hurt each other in unforgiveable ways.  I think that one reason human beings struggle with forgiveness is that we often hurt each other wittingly and willfully.  While God’s forgiveness extends to our unintentional sins—because only God knows what true repentance lies within our hearts—our intentional trespasses against one another must be acknowledged, and we must reconcile with each other before we can find forgiveness.  In Jewish tradition, we pray for God’s forgiveness on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, when we are “at one” with God.  But we are only able to atone if we are already at one with each other.

Yasmina:

Like Christians, Muslims seek God’s forgiveness for their faults and weaknesses every day, during and after prayer, and strive to reach a complete state of purification during the month of Ramadan and the period of the Hajj. A Muslim also seeks to emulate the example of the Prophet Muhammad [Peace and Blessings be upon Him], who embodied the teachings of the Quran. In the following verses, the Quran describes forgiveness as an honorable response to hurtful actions, while allowing for the uniqueness of people and recognizing that not every individual is actually capable of reaching this status:

“And not equal are the good deed and the bad. Repel [evil] by that [deed] which is better; and thereupon the one whom between you and him is enmity [will become] as though he was a devoted friend. But none is granted it except those who are patient, and none is granted it except one having a great portion [of good]. And if there comes to you from Satan an evil suggestion, then seek refuge in God. Indeed, He is the Hearing, the Knowing.”(al Fussilat 41:34-36)

To me, although adopting this attitude of forgiveness can be challenging, it helps me focus on overcoming tests as a way of purifying my own heart and soul.

Journeys

“I am the LORD your God, who brought you out of Egypt to be your God. 

I am the LORD your God.”

(Numbers 15:41)

Yaira:

This verse appears at the very end of the Sh’ma, the prayer that observant Jews recite twice a day. One of the central stories of the Jewish people is the Exodus from Egypt—the move from slavery to freedom—and, on one level, the story preserves a collective memory. On another level, though, we can understand it as a metaphor for other kinds of liberating transformations. The Hebrew word for Egypt, Mitzrayim, can also be translated as “narrow straits.” The move from Mitzrayim to liberation mirrors my move into Judaism—from a narrow place in which I had all but given up on finding religious grounding, to the liberating gift of a tradition that offers me deep sustenance and a clearer relationship with God than I had previously thought possible. It is as though I passed through a narrow channel into a vast expanse of possibility. In this verse, God is doing the speaking and acting, in order that God may be known and in relationship with people. On its own, this is such a beautiful statement about the love and deep partnership between people and God. As a metaphor for my personal journey, the idea that God brought me out of narrow places in order to be known and in relationship evokes waves of wonder, joy, gratitude, and amazement—making it difficult, sometimes, to get those last few words of the Sh'ma out of my mouth.

Amanda:

Yaira’s comment about God ‘delivering’ her through her personal spiritual journey reminded me of my own ongoing journey along the ‘straight path’ of Islam to reclaim my purpose as a created human. In Islam we are taught that the inherent state of all creation is that of a muslim, literally, one who submits to God. The natural world exists in this state; babies are born in this state of submission. However, due to cultural and other profane influences, humans deviate from this state during our lifetimes. The purpose of Islam is to create a path on which we strive to reclaim our innate state of being—our natural state of submission to the Creator. It is not a forced existence with spiritual hoops to leap through, but a way of being fully human. In this verse, I noticed that the delivery of the Israelites from slavery was for a specific purpose. Speaking to the newly delivered Israelites, God says that He “brought you out of Egypt to be your God.” So, their freedom from subjugation to the Egyptians was replaced by freedom to serve God. This is our natural state—our “muslimness.” One final thought: when we pray for deliverance from the things that are oppressing us, we need to consider that true freedom does not mean lack of submission, but rather submission to our true purpose. As Bob Dylan so famously said, “You gotta serve somebody.”

LeeAnne:

Like Yaira and Amanda, I came to my current faith tradition as an adult. I was raised in an agnostic household and spent my childhood and young adulthood searching—yearning—for something that I could not define. I found a spiritual home in Christianity, and with it, a sense of freedom from doubt and fear. When I hear the words “I am the Lord your God,” I think of God’s enduring love for all people, God’s mercy, and God’s deliverance. I also think of God calling us to be better people as we attempt to live according to the promise of our being made in God’s image. Amanda’s articulation of the inherent state of creation in Islam is a nice parallel to the Christian concept of grace. It is through faith that we access the power of grace to do what God requires of us, which is “to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God.” (Micah 6:8) We respond to “the Lord our God” by seeing ourselves bound in duty, love, and gratitude to keep all of God’s commandments.

 

Meet Guest Bloggers Yaira, Amanda & LeeAnne on the About Us page!

The Last Prophet

“And a prophet did not rise again in Israel like Moses, whom God knew face-to-face.”

(Deuteronomy 34:10)

Tziporah:

As I begin to prepare for the holiday of Passover, I am reminded of a tension in Jewish tradition regarding Moses. In the Torah itself, Moses is described as the last, great prophet of Israel; in the Haggadah,[1] he is never mentioned by name.  The rabbis who compiled the Haggadah added countless interpretations of the text yet consistently left Moses out, and focused solely on God’s role in the redemption of the people.  I understand their editorial choice: no doubt they were reacting to the primacy attached to leading men in other religions, namely Jesus and Moses.  Nevertheless, removing the human protagonist and leaving only an unknowable hero—to whom we offer lengthy praise both before and after the meal—the rabbis made the story less accessible to modern Jews. I am thinking about how best to add Moses’ voice to the retelling of the story at my Seder this year. I would like to imagine what Moses saw in God’s face, what Moses felt along the arduous journey from Egypt to the edge of the Promised Land. How can Moses be our role model for knowing God?

Grace:

What a provocative question, Tziporah!  What would Moses’ voice tell us?  Perhaps about how God can take an impetuous, doubting, and argumentative anyone[2]—someone like us—and show him or her how to lead others who fail repeatedly to trust a God who never fails.  As our Jewish friends prepare for Passover, Christians now near the end of a 40-day Lenten journey when we remember the Exodus in our own lives, times when we too have wandered in a wilderness, afraid, confused, and prone to forget God.  In those hard and awful experiences, when we see the run-together godisnowhere, our eyes may first tell us that “God is nowhere;” until we confront God ourselves, in a burning bush or through the gentle, outstretched arm of one who will part the waters for us. Then we discover the reality that “God is now here” and that we, too, stand on holy ground.

Yasmina:

Since the story of Moses [Peace and Blessing be upon Him] is recounted in the Quran in more detail than that of any other prophet, I am lost in a multitude of choices: patience, trust, courage, dedication and perseverance are but a few of the many honorable qualities Moses displayed to the people of his time and to us today. However, I will focus on another aspect of Moses’ character. In the Quran, God asks Moses—although He knows the answer, of course—why he hastened and left his people to head to the mountain. Moses says: “and I hastened to you, my Lord, that You be pleased.”[3] I find these words deeply touching; to me, they epitomize Moses’ contentment and happiness of sharing an intimate connection with God, as well as his deep understanding of pure intention. Moses’ eagerness to respond to God’s commands, his sincerity and his devotion are characteristics I seek to emulate.

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[1] The Haggadah is a book that is used to retell the story of the Exodus at the Seder, the ritual meal held on the eve of Passover.  There are many different publications of the Haggadah; most recently, Jonathan Safran Foer edited the New American Haggadah.  Corey-Jan Albert, a contributor to She Answers Abraham, wrote a version in script format titled Diaspora Journey.

[2] Peter in Christian scriptures

[3] Ta Ha, 20:84

Sincerity

On the authority of Abu Hurayra, who said that the Messenger of God, [Peace and Blessings be upon Him] said: God [Glorified and Exalted be He] said: “I am so self-sufficient that I am in no need of having an associate. Thus he who does an action for someone else’s sake as well as Mine, will have that action renounced by Me to him whom he associated with Me.”

(Muslim, from: Forty Hadith Qudsi)

Yasmina:

This Hadith reminds me that the foundation for actions in Islam lies in pure and sincere intentions to please God. It applies to everything a Muslim says, does, hides or reveals.  When actions are performed for the sake of pleasing God they become acts of worship.  Daily chores such as cooking and cleaning, which are sometimes perceived as burdens, are now turned into honorable acts, because they are done with a higher goal in mind. Of course, performing an action without reaching the highest level of sincerity is still considered beneficial and good.  On the other hand, when Muslims give charity and volunteer their time for the sake of impressing others with their generosity and gaining higher status, these actions—which appear on the surface to be honorable—may not be accepted by God. This Hadith illustrates the praiseworthiness of renouncing worldly reward and gratification while maintaining pure intentions and acting with the utmost sincerity.

Grace:

Yasmina, I know I will want to continue this conversation beyond the scope of our online post! I believe our faiths reach a similar conclusion through different ways of seeing. Christian faith teaches that Almighty God does not need an associate, but that through God’s great love for all humanity, God has chosen not to set himself apart but to come among us, to claim each of us as beloved children, and to show us The Way.  Thus, we are taught to glorify God by remaining in intimate association with God; we seek to recognize, affirm, and humbly serve “God incarnate” in all persons.  Like the Hadith you cite, Christian scriptures emphasize the need to do and give generously, not for the world’s approval, but with sincere intent to serve God, in humble gratitude to God for the gift of God’s very self to us.

Tziporah:

I am intrigued by your choice of this Hadith, Yasmina, and struck by the way this teaching balances philosophy and practice.  Jews similarly believe that God is completely self-sufficient and needs no associate. Many regard this to be the founding principle of Judaism, and refer to the essence of the Jewish religion as “ethical monotheism.”  However, since the destruction of the Temple in 70 C.E., the rabbis emphasized action over faith and established the mitzvot (commandments) as the primary vehicle for religious observance.  Recognizing that only behavior or actions can be legislated, they refined the system of Halakhah (Jewish law) to make the practice of Judaism accessible, and seldom focused on belief as the reason underlying one’s actions. The rabbis went so far as to suggest that it was better to do a mitzvah for the “wrong” reason than to forgo its observance, because they believed that through the performance of the deed itself the proper intention or belief would eventually follow.

After the Anger, Regret

“Some time afterward, when the anger of King Ahashverosh subsided, he thought of Vashti and what she had done and what had been decreed against her.”

(Esther 2:1)

Tziporah:

Every year as I prepare for the holiday of Purim and the public reading of the Book of Esther, I am struck by the opening lines of the second chapter. In a fit of rage—because the queen would not appear when summoned—the king issues an edict to remove her permanently from the palace. The next morning, the king is feeling sobered and bereft at the queen’s expulsion. The remainder of the story provides lessons about courage, personal integrity and individual responsibility to one’s community, but I find the most important lesson in the first three words of this verse: a person who acts impulsively, out of anger, comes to regret his behavior “some time afterward.” The damage we cause through our irrationality and inability to control our impulses cannot always be undone.  For this reason, the rabbis suggested that an ideal disposition is “difficult to anger and easy to calm.” (Mishnah Avot 5:11)

Yasmina:

Tziporah, I could not agree with you more. I have personally fallen into the trap of spontaneous anger numerous times and regretted my feelings shortly after. As you might imagine, there are many Hadiths that provide practical advice about how to deal with and control anger. They all exalt the virtues of patience, kindness, and forgiveness.  One in particular is identical to your quote from the Mishnah; another notes that a burst of anger can negate the positive effects of a person’s fast.  I find the strongest encouragement to those who practice restraint of their anger in the following verse: “Be quick in the race for forgiveness from your Lord and for a Garden whose width is that of the heavens and of the earth, prepared for the righteous, those who spend freely whether in prosperity or in adversity; who restrain anger and pardon all men; for God loves those who do good.” (Al-i-Imram 3:133-134)

Grace:

I must echo what both of you say about anger and the need for self-control.  A passage in Christian scripture that I find instructive is “Be angry, but do not sin: let not the sun go down on your wrath.” (Ephesians 4:26) This verse seems to acknowledge that anger as an emotion alone is not sinful, but that rash actions stemming from anger can be sinful indeed.  The quotation continues with the admonition to put away all bitterness, wrath, anger, clamor, and evil speaking, and “be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake has forgiven you.” (Eph 4: 32)  As is true of so many dictums in each of the holy texts we are citing, these words are much easier to say than to practice!

When We Don't Eat

"And when you fast, do not look dismal...anoint your head and wash your face, that your fasting may not be seen by others but by your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you.”

(The Gospel of Matthew 6:16-18)

Grace:

Fasting, specifically as an act of piety, is not commanded in Christian scriptures. However, Christians who observe periods of fasting do so because they find that fasting, together with prayer, is a private and deeply spiritual practice that draws one’s heart closer to God. The liturgical season of Lent[1] is a time when many Christians observe a partial fast, abstaining from certain foods, such as sweets and/or meat. Fasting on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday often involves abstinence from both food and drink for a period of 24 hours. Any time of spiritual struggle is an occasion for fasting; Christians are reminded that fasting is not simply about self-denial, but about heightened awareness of all who suffer.

Tziporah:

I am moved by your spiritual practice of fasting, Grace, and intrigued by the text you have chosen from The Gospel of Matthew.  I had always understood these verses as part of a Jesus’ teachings about practical piety which emphasize private rituals.  Since the Torah[2] doesn’t specify how we are to “afflict our souls” on the tenth day of the seventh month, the rabbis[3] instituted rituals for Yom Kippur, including prohibitions against eating, drinking, wearing leather shoes, bathing and anointing with oil, and sexual relations.  In this context, I had understood Jesus’ teachings—particularly the instructions “anoint your head and wash your face”—to be a reaction against the rabbis’ public piety. Incidentally, the rabbis themselves often railed against overt piousness, which they viewed as arrogance.  They considered fasting to be a form of repentance and added numerous public fasts to the calendar to commemorate the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. They also prescribed communal fasts during times of drought to petition God, in His mercy, to send rain in its appropriate season.

Yasmina:

Fasting is a central part of the Islamic tradition and one that I hold dear. One of the five pillars of Islam, fasting is prescribed during the month of Ramadan, the 9^th lunar month.[4]  Similar to the Christian and Jewish traditions, the abstinence from food, drink, smoking and marital relations has many purposes in Islam. Fasting is one way to attain a heightened sense of God consciousness, by giving the “self” an opportunity to rise above its desires and allowing the soul to attain the virtues that adorn the righteous.  Some common practices that are encouraged during this month are giving to charity, strengthening family and friendship ties, intense reflection and repentance, and nightly prayers and reading of the Quran. Ramadan elevates my awareness of the mind’s power to fight temptation and helps me establish good habits.  I feel a profound sense of spiritual revitalization, as my gratitude, compassion and, most of all, humility are heightened when I fast.

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[1] Lent is a 40-day period of reflection and penance, which begins with Ash Wednesday and concludes with Easter. Good Friday, the Friday prior to Easter when Christians commemorate the death of Jesus, is a day of atonement.

[2] Leviticus 16:29-31, Leviticus 23:27-32 and Numbers 29:7

[3] Mishnah Yoma, Chapter 10

[4] Quran, al-Baqarah 2:183-185

What We Eat

“He has only forbidden to you dead animals, blood, the flesh of swine, and that which has been dedicated for other than God. But whoever is forced by necessity, neither desiring [it], nor transgressing [its limit], there is no sin upon him. Indeed God is Forgiving and Merciful.”

(al-Baqarah 2:173)

Yasmina:

Islam teaches that the body and the intellect are, amongst other things, an amana or trust. Therefore, any law regarding them is meant to preserve and protect this trust.  As a result, Islamic dietary law prohibits intoxicants, smoking and specific categories of animals. Based on other verses and the Sunnah,[1] the list of animals includes carnivores, swine, reptiles, birds of prey, pests and insects, due to the nature of their diet and metabolism.  As a confirmation that life is sacred and that the only reason the animal is being killed is to fulfill one’s need for food, all animals deemed lawful are slaughtered in a humane fashion. The phrase “In the name of God, God is greater” is recited during the process.  Consequently, a Muslim may not eat from a carcass, an animal that has died from strangulation, blow or fall, or an animal that has been sacrificed for an idol. Living by these rules nurtures my spiritual and physical well-being, and raises my awareness of the many trusts I have been given.

Tziporah:

There are many similarities between the Muslim dietary laws and Kashrut, the Jewish dietary laws: humane slaughter accompanied by the recitation of a blessing by a trained ritual slaughterer, forbidden animals such as swine, birds of prey and carcasses of wild animals. The basic difference may be the inherent assumption that dietary laws are related to maintaining a healthy body.  While some Jews have interpreted the laws of Kashrut in this manner, I see them as part of an altogether different rubric of laws.  The lists of permitted and forbidden animals in the Torah,[2] as well as the prohibition against boiling a kid in its mother’s milk,[3] are classified by the rabbis as hukkim, statutes, for which the only explanation given is “I am the Lord your God.”  The underlying reason for observing Kashrut, then, is simply to follow God’s mitzvot, commandments.  The physical act of eating at once elevates the spirit to a state of holiness and humbles the body to a state of submission before the Holy One.

Grace:

I so appreciate the fervor with which both of you observe the dietary laws of your faiths, and I can only hope that you will not be offended by my own practice, which is to “eat darn near anything.” I use this colloquial expression to acknowledge—with humor, not sacrilege—our differences. Christians interpret the creation story of Genesis 1 to mean that all plants and animals are given to us as God’s good gifts, without restriction. Yet, we also acknowledge that the body is a “temple of the Holy Spirit.” (I Cor 6:19-20) The wholesome nurture of our bodies demands that we are mindful of what we take into ourselves [4] and cautious about creating stumbling blocks for others.  Recently, I was preparing a dinner for the three of us and found myself struggling to know fully how to “keep Kosher.” I fear that I may have unintentionally violated an especially important prohibition for you, Tziporah. How deeply grateful I am, then, for the spirit of hesed (kindness) that allowed both of you to sit at the table with me.

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[1] Sunnah refers to the teachings and practices of the Prophet Muhammad [Peace and Blessings be upon Him], found in the Hadith and other texts.

[2] See Leviticus 11 and Deuteronomy 14

[3] Exodus 23:19, 34:26 and Deuteronomy 14:21

[4] Christian denominations differ in their positions on alcohol. While Catholic, Episcopal, and Lutheran churches generally permit consumption of alcoholic beverages, Mormons abstain from both caffeine and alcohol.  Seventh Day Adventists—who run excellent heart hospitals in this country—recommend adherence to a vegetarian diet, which is believed to be more easily digestible and thereby protective of the human body. For personal health reasons—not religious mandate—I eat meat, chicken and fish, limit my consumption of bread and abstain from alcohol.

Angels All Around Me

In the name of Adonai, God of Israel, to my right is Michael, and to my left is Gabriel; before me is Uriel and behind me is Raphael; and above my head is the Shekhinah, God's presence.

Tziporah:
Yasmina, when we were speaking last week you mentioned angels and I haven't been able to stop thinking about them!  In discussing the need to praise God very day, you said, "When a person is absorbed with her daily routines, an angel comes to remind her to remember God.” And I had this image of an angel tapping me on the shoulder! I love that Muslims understand the sudden occurrence of a thought into one’s head or heart as an encounter with an angel.  Often, Jews resist discussing the presence of angels in the world, claiming that angels are Christian, when in fact Jewish literature and liturgy is filled with mentions of angels.  I sing “The Angel Song” (arranged by the late Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach) every night to my son before he goes to sleep. Each of the angels mentioned in the song plays a specific role in protecting humans in the world. It comforts me to think that God sends us angels to help us in our times of need and to remind us that God is present in our daily lives.  

Grace:

Similar to the nightly song of angels that you sing to your son, Tziporah, is the bedtime blessing in my family: “May all God’s holy angels watch over you as you sleep.” While the Christian gospels recount significant appearances by angels as God’s messengers or as heralds of good news, the concept of a Guardian Angel from Catholic Christianity is not universally shared among non-Catholics. Even so, the motif of supernatural angel with wings and halo is pervasive in Christian art, iconography and verse.  While these images abound in art and artifact, deeply ingrained in Christian teaching is this verse from Hebrews: “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” (Heb 13:2) Thus, angels may also be viewed as spiritual beings who take embodied form. I wonder if it is this teaching that gives rise to a popular exclamation expressed toward someone who has demonstrated a deep kindness, “You are an angel!”

Yasmina:

Yes, the thought of angels protecting, helping and recording our deeds is inherent to Islamic teachings and gives me ample room for contemplation about the unseen world. Coincidentally, reciting the verse known as the “Verse of the Throne”[1] grants a Muslim a peaceful night-watch from an angel. One of my favorite Hadiths about angels that relates to the remembrance of God is: “When any group of men remembers God, angels surround them and mercy covers them, tranquility descends upon them, and God mentions them to those who are with Him.”[2] What a humbling and wondrous thing it is to be the subject of God’s mention! To me, this is a magnificently gentle and loving sign of generosity from my Lord.

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[1] Ayatul Qursi 2:255

[2] from Fiqh-us-Sunnah by Sayyid Saabiq, Vol. 4, p.102

Pray Without Ceasing

Rejoice always; pray without ceasing; give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 

(I Thessalonians 5: 16-18)

Grace:

Although each phrase in this text is fertile ground for sacred conversation, the admonition to pray without ceasing gives me particular pause.  With the exception of those traditions within Christianity that preserve forms of The Daily Office—including Morning Prayer, Noonday Prayer, Evening Prayer/Vespers, and Compline—fixed times of day for prayer are not prescribed for most Christians. Pray without ceasing, then, is understood by most to mean “be steadfast or constant in prayer.” By observing an ancient Christian practice of a breath prayer, I have found a particularly lovely way to enjoy the fruits of praying without ceasing quite literally.  In meditation, I attach to my inhalation an invocation of God and to my exhalation an affirmation or petition important to my spiritual growth.  The very act of breathing thus becomes an act of prayer, its fruits revealed in subtle changes within me over time.  My current breath prayer: “Light of God, illumine me.”

Yasmina:

Grace, I also engage in daily remembrance of God—during my ritual ablutions, while performing my daily prayers, and, of course, when I first wake up and just before going to bed. Part of my daily practice is to recite the phrase “Glory, praise and thanks be to God” 100 times every morning; then I make a conscious effort throughout my day to be aware of God’s presence. There are numerous verses in the Quran which are in tune with your biblical call to pray without ceasing. One of my favorite examples is “The seven heavens and the earth and all beings therein, declare His glory: there is not a thing but celebrates His praise; and yet ye understand not how they declare His Glory!”(17:44) This verse reminds me that when I utter words of thanks and praise to God I am joining all of God’s creatures in celebration. I seek to nourish my soul by praising God when I marvel at the nature around me, prepare a meal for my family, reflect on events and make new discoveries. As I go about my daily activities, I try to maintain a state of constant awareness and remembrance of God which humbles both my soul and intellect.

Tziporah:

Friends, your personal reflections inspired by these texts remind me of the inherent tension of Jewish prayer: there is a requirement to recite specific prayers of the liturgy at fixed times and a rabbinic imperative to pray with kavannah, “intention.” As you imply, Grace, to pray without ceasing in a literal sense is not practical, and the rabbis were quite practical when establishing the norms of Jewish prayer nearly 2,000 years ago. At the same time, they suggested two modalities of spiritual expression that could be employed without limitations. First, they recommended the recitation of 100 blessings each day.  Blessings—which have a prescribed formula—serve to elevate our quotidian acts of eating, drinking and even using the bathroom.  Yasmina, I was delighted to learn from you that Muslims also include 100 praises of God in daily practice—our traditions share many common rituals designed to help us reach beyond ourselves. The early rabbis also connected with God through the study of Torah, which they considered to be a form of prayer.  This inspired one twentieth century rabbi to explain his daily practice: “When I pray, I talk to God; when I study, God talks to me.” I, too, strive to pray without ceasing by reciting prayers, blessings and Psalms—and by studying Torah—every day.

Your Comment Awaits Moderation

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post "How to Join the Conversation."

Anonymous:

Christians are taught to "go make disciples” or “followers of Jesus." They want to get in that "jab" to make a point. I was raised around them all my life and that is what they are taught to do. Their way is the ONLY way just like most fanatics- and you will be damned to hell if you don't believe like them. When I became Jewish I felt like such a "load" was lifted off of me with all that condemnation crap….

Tziporah:

Although this comment from Anonymous was not left at the bottom of the post, I believe it is a response to my description of a pastor’s prayer at an interfaith luncheon, in which I wrote: “I don’t think that he intended to exclude anyone from his prayers—he must have been unaware of the presence of those who do not accept Jesus’ divinity….”  How do you want to respond to Anonymous?

Grace:

I ache for those who, like Anonymous, have had a terrible experience in the name of any religion, most especially the Christian faith I profess. Ironically, the “Christians” described by Anonymous failed to be Christ-like. My hope and prayer for you, Anonymous, is that you will find true shalom in your new faith and that, over time, you will be able to forgive those who clearly wronged you.  I pray, too, that those who offended in the name of Christianity will come to understand and live the commandments that Jesus said summed up all religious teaching: Love God with all your heart, mind, and soul, and your neighbor as yourself.

Yasmina:

Unfortunately, there are individuals or groups in every tradition who are capable of scaring away followers of their faith. Sadly enough, it only takes one person to misrepresent a religion and send the wrong message. The better way for anyone to express their love for God is by having a beautiful character towards all people. I find this notion touchingly expressed in the Quran. Addressing the prophet Muhammad [Peace and Blessings be upon him], God says: “So by mercy from God, [O Muhammad], you were lenient with them. And if you had been rude in speech and harsh in heart, they would have disbanded from about you. So pardon them and ask forgiveness for them and consult them in the matter. And when you have decided, then rely upon God. Indeed, God loves those who rely upon Him.” (3:159)

Tziporah:

At first, as you both know, I was not inclined to approve this comment, because our mission is to publish productive, interfaith conversations in cyberspace and to avoid augmenting the hostility already residing there.  That is precisely why we agreed that all comments would be moderated.  Yet you convinced me to allow Anonymous to have a voice in our conversation and you inspired me to join you in responding to this reader’s concerns. I encourage Anonymous and all readers to engage in dialogue—not diatribe—in this space.  We do not shy away from difficult conversations here, but we insist that participants in our conversation maintain a respectful tone.  Please write your comments in the first-person singular, from a position of openness and desire to learn.  Strive to approach the texts with curiosity and to question one another without judging. As the great 1^st century sage Hillel taught: “Do not judge your friends until you are in their place.” (Mishnah Avot 2:4)

Jesus: Son or Servant?

“Certainly you brought about a disastrous thing whereby the heavens are almost split asunder and the earth is split and the mountains fall crashing down that they attributed a son to The Merciful. It is not fit and proper for The Merciful that He should take a son to Himself! There is none at all in the heavens and the earth but he be one who arrives to The Merciful as a servant.”

(19:89-93, Maryam)

Tziporah:
Yasmina, I was intrigued by your remark last week that both Jesus and his mother, Mary, are considered examples of righteousness and uprightness in Islam. Chapter 19 of the Quran begins with the birth of John the Baptist and goes on to describe Jesus' birth, and to praise Mary, Abraham, Moses and a host of other prophets of the Hebrew Bible.  The chapter concludes, however, with explicit descriptions of the punishment that awaits those who do not believe in The Merciful.  I stumbled when I read these verses, which strike me as especially anti-Christian and seem to contradict the universalism of Islam. Since I cannot read classical Arabic—and because the Quran is written in poetic and homiletic form—I realize that I cannot fully appreciate its meaning.  I was hoping that you could help me by elaborating on this passage.

Yasmina:

Earlier in this same chapter, Jesus [Peace and Blessings be upon him] is quoted as saying: “I am a servant of God; He has given me the Scripture and made me a prophet.” (19:30). Another chapter describes a conversation that will take place between God and Jesus [Peace and Blessings be upon him] on the Day of Judgment, when God will say, “O Jesus, Son of Mary, did you say to the people, ‘Take me and my mother as deities besides God?’ He will say, ‘Exalted are You! It was not for me to say that to which I have no right.’”(5:116) We learn from these verses that Muslims believe that Jesus [Peace and Blessings be upon him] was a prophet who served God and embodied honorable values that all humans should follow, including the worship of God alone. Since Jesus [Peace and Blessings be upon him] is held in such high regard and altering his message is considered especially egregious, the end of Chapter 19 warns future generations from straying from the path prescribed to them by His messengers.  This universal warning is directed toward all those who deny God’s One-ness and ignore His command to worship Him alone, as well as toward those who attribute to Him that which is not befitting His Glory and Majesty. Therefore, God’s message here is not anti-Christian but anti-Trinitarian, aimed at reminding us that He transcends all His creation.

Grace:
You’ve made a good distinction, Yasmina. However, the passages from the Quran that you cited seem to imply that Christians worship Jesus as a second deity.  I suspect that a strictly literal interpretation of the phrase “Son of God” in Christian scriptures gives rise to this misconception—an understandable misconception, I might add, as Trinitarian doctrine has provoked convoluted arguments even within Christianity!  In The Gospel of John, Jesus is quoted as saying, “The Father and I are one….Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.” (10:30, 14:9b)  These statements, taken out of scriptural and historical context, will surely sound blasphemous or heretical. Yet I hear these words as revelatory of Divine Mystery; they point to God’s humility, through which God becomes exalted.  Through my understanding of them, I believe that God is approachable and accessible; and that God’s love is so great—even for a terribly imperfect me and for all of human-unkind—that God will give God’s very self to us.  In Jesus, Christians attempt to understand the unfathomable: Immanuel—God is with us, here, now.

In the Name of…

Yasmina:

Theologically speaking, is there any problem for a Christian not to pray in Jesus’ name? In other words, cannot a Christian—like a Jew or a Muslim—pray authentically in the name of God? 

Grace:

The short answer to that question is “Yes, absolutely!” That is why I have no hesitation when praying in interfaith settings by saying, “In Your Most Holy Name we pray.” Christians, like Jews and Muslims, believe in One God and that God is One.  Trinitarian Christians believe that God is expressed in three “persons”—or in three ways—as Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. We believe that the nature of God is most fully revealed in the person of Jesus Christ—that is, in Jesus, human and divine are completely united.  Because we look to Jesus as “the Way” for humans to know the fullness of God, we often conclude our prayers in Jesus’ name.  The phrasing is not intended to be exclusionary, but how can it sound otherwise to a non-Christian? When I pray publicly in God’s name and omit Jesus’ name, I do so not because I fear offending others, but because I wish to express my belief that we are all children of God and that God’s great love extends to all—without limit, without condition and without exception.

Yasmina:

Grace, I thank you for your heartfelt explanation. I appreciate sensitive people like you who are aware of the beliefs of their audience. The reason why Muslims would feel uncomfortable if prayers are concluded in Jesus’ name is not because they do not believe in him, but because they do not consider him as divine. That word is reserved for God alone. It might surprise some Christians to know that Jesus [Peace and Blessings be upon him] is an honored prophet in Islam. Both his birth and the birth of his mother Mary [Peace and Blessings be upon her] are beautifully captured in the Quran. Beloved to Muslims, both are considered examples of righteousness and uprightness.  Having said that, they are considered human, and praying to them is therefore not appropriate in Islam.

Tziporah:

While I was eavesdropping on your conversation, my thoughts wandered to a volunteer luncheon I attended some years ago at an interfaith-based charity. We all bent our heads as the Pastor led us in the grace before the meal.  He quoted from psalms and blessed the work of the volunteers’ hands, and then he concluded by saying, “in the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.” I felt unable to respond “Amen,” because the word “amen” comes from the Hebrew root “believe,” and Jews do not believe Jesus to be the Christ (messiah). I remember feeling frustrated, since I agreed with the sentiment of his prayer and wished to respond.  I don’t think that he intended to exclude anyone from his prayers—he must have been unaware of the presence of those who do not accept Jesus’ divinity.  I wish I had been in possession then of Grace’s lucid explanation of why Christians pray in this manner.  The Pastor’s words authentically expressed the prayer from his heart. Distracted by my own emotions, I may have missed the depth of emotion he was sharing with us.

In Song & In Silence

“Shout praise to God, all the earth. Serve God with joy; come before Him with singing….Enter His gates with thanksgiving, His courtyards with praise.”

(Psalms 100:1-2, 4)

Tziporah:

I have been reading this psalm regularly because one of my resolutions for the New Year was to express my gratitude daily.  I even set my phone’s alarm to alert me—with the soothing strains of the harp—to draw my mind away from the tasks before me and toward God.  Although I have been pretty successful at establishing prayerful moments, I still lack the motivation to attend synagogue services.  I love the idea of entering God’s gates with song, but find myself craving solitude and silence.  For Jews, the ideal is to worship God together with at least 9 other Jews. And Jews pray loudly—with plenty of communal singing—from a prayer book that contains many words.  Praying alone is permissible, but even then the ideal is to say the words aloud, if only in a whisper.  As a result, the opportunity for silence in synagogue is scarce. Recently, I reluctantly admitted to Yasmina that I suffer from spiritual envy: her mosque is such a peaceful environment and so conducive to prayer. At the same time, I long to hear the familiar melodies; to sing boldly and joyously in God’s courtyard. My soul yearns to shout praise to God but, for the moment, my mouth won’t cooperate. 

Grace:

Tziporah, I love your New Year’s resolution, especially your "call to prayer" with the harp! During times of Christian celebration, as in the recent season of Christmas, I am eager to sing, and to do so boldly and joyously in communal worship.  In times of sorrow or penance, however, I may enter God’s courtyard with thanksgiving but without song. For example, during the penitential season of Lent we deliberately omit the singing of “Alleluias.” But I, too, feel the craving for deeper solitude and peace, apart from community.  In those times, I love taking private retreat, usually in total silence, for the renewal of my spirit.  Silence often opens my heart to the many ways I can serve God with joy and allows me to enter God’s gates—whether in a house of worship or elsewhere—with singing and praise from the soul, even as my voice is silent! 

Yasmina:

I regularly listen to my favorite Quran reciter and love the opportunity to feel the resonance of the words; the meaning, the sounds, the rhythm and the melody. My appreciation of each recitation is a little different, depending on where I am physically, emotionally and spiritually. Like both of you, I enjoy solitary prayer time, as well as prayer in community. Some communal prayers are said aloud by the prayer leader, while others are offered in complete silence. For this reason, I get a taste of different prayerful moments every day, as the echo of the sounds of the Quranic recitations, the calls to prayer, and the silent praise of worshipers is preserved in time and space. As a Muslim, I believe that the sense of peace at the mosque that you alluded to, Tziporah, is a result of these daily occurrences, which have no ultimate goal other than to grant those taking part in them entry into the gates of the All Merciful.