Hope in the Midst of Tragedy

Five years after hurricane Katrina struck, many in the media are revisiting New Orleans and other places in the gulf devastated the storm (and in the case of New Orleans, devastated by faults within the levy system that gave way). Successes are celebrated as well as questions of why has more not been done. The following is an article I wrote which appeared as a guest editorial in The Birmingham News five years ago. I posted a version of this essay after the earthquake in Haiti and I re-visit it here as a reminder of one way we find hope when tragedy strikes.

Finding Hope After Katrina
by Charles Kinnaird

“What was really needed was a fundamental change in our attitude toward life. We had to learn… that it did not really matter what we expected from life, but rather what life expected from us.”
~ Viktor Frankl in Man’s Search for Meaning

Christianity has a problem that arises from three basic precepts:
1. God is all-powerful and all-knowing;
2. God is loving and good; and
3. Evil is real.

This is a recipe for dissonance. In two thousand years, these theological concepts have never been reconciled nor have they been abandoned. I am in no position to try to debunk any of these three notions, but I am in a position to feel the ache and the loss for words in response to that perennial question, “How could a loving God allow such devastation and loss of innocent life?”

Hurricane Katrina is the latest tragic event that causes many to ask, is there really is a God out there, or is this just a barren, meaningless universe? It has even prompted some to claim that God is punishing sinners. Preachers and theologians have always felt the tension of trying to communicate faith and hope to people in light of intellectual honesty and trying times. Harold Kushner’s popular book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, managed to affirm that God is a loving God and that evil is certainly real, while rejecting the idea that God is really all-powerful. Some religions and sects will question whether evil is real, or just an illusion in order to explain the presence of suffering and evil. Many preachers like to remind us of the fact that someone brought sin into the world, and don’t forget that old chestnut of free will. Theology likes to create nice tidy boxes to put things in, but the problem is that life is not nice and tidy.

It would be a cruel understatement to say that Katrina was an untidy incident. I’ll be honest, for days I tried to avoid the emotional impact. I tried to keep some distance as I viewed the news reports. Then the reality began to hit, and along with it, the tears that one tries to fight back, the deep sighs, the heaviness that weighs upon the chest and the brow. There came inevitable shock and the sorrow of so much devastation. I returned to a book that I had found very helpful when I first read it many years ago. Viktor Frankl’s book, Man’s Search for Meaning came out of his experiences in a Nazi concentration camp during World War II. His was the only voice I could think of that might be appropriate to listen to in the wake of our current storm. The core of that book for me was a passage close to the middle of the work which is quoted above. Frankl goes on to say, “We needed to stop asking about the meaning of life, and instead start thinking of ourselves as those who were being questioned by life – daily and hourly.”

If we are being questioned by life, what is our response? Here are some things I heard in the week following the storm: I heard anger that response was so slow. I heard outrage that the poor, the handicapped and the needy were being overlooked and neglected. I saw bitter tears over the loss of life and the suffering of children. I saw responses from some individuals who were determined to do whatever they could to help. I heard scorn heaped upon the comfortable wealthy bureaucrats in Washington who seemed literally unmoved by the massive suffering. When I read the words of Jesus and the Hebrew prophets, God is described by these very same responses.

I cannot put this into a tidy box that will resolve all questions and ease the tensions of living, but I can say that in the midst of the chaos and horror that followed Katrina, I saw and heard God in our midst. I saw God in your face and heard God in your voice when the sorrow and outrage was expressed. As real people began to move to care for the evacuees by offering help, refuge, and hope, I took heart. There were people showing great care for life, even lending aid to pets that were displaced. I saw how we respond when we are questioned by life, and that response gives me hope in the midst of tragedy.


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Fasting and Feasting During Ramadan

I promised to say a word about my visit to a local mosque. The month of Ramadan is a sacred month to Muslims. The days are spent fasting. They abstain from water and food from dawn until dusk and then they break the fast each day with a meal, iftar, after evening prayers are said. The local Muslim community has for years used this time to invite those outside their faith to come and share a meal and learn about Islam. There were about twelve or fifteen of us guests the night I attended. Our group included Baptists and Presbyterians who were there to listen and learn. We were welcomed by our Islamic hosts and given some time for a slide presentation and question & answer time prior to evening prayer.

Not All Are Arab

I should hasten to say, especially since my last blog post referred to my learning more about Arabs, that “Muslim” does not equal “Arab.” This fact was emphasized during the presentation were heard at the mosque. The gentleman leading the discussion told us that he grew up Muslim in a non-Arab country. The most populous Islamic country, we learned, is Indonesia. Of course, there are large Muslim populations throughout Africa and Asia as well as Europe. Islam is a world religion and an international faith. Actually, Arab Muslims constitute only 20 percent of the Muslim population worldwide. Because Arabic is the language of their sacred text, the Quran, faithful Muslims will study the language in order to understand the words as they are heard in public. A faithful Muslim, we were told, must know enough Arabic to say the basic prayers offered in worship.

Sharia, Women and Islam

Because there has been some public fear and recent news items regarding sharia law, there were many questions regarding sharia. Our hosts tried to explain to us a few aspects of sharia, emphasizing that while there are practices and customs for faithful Muslims which are prescribed by Islamic law (e.g. no consumption of pork or alcohol, no gambling, and no charging or payment of interest in monetary matters); it is also the duty of faithful Muslims to abide by the laws of whatever country they live in. It was obvious that our Muslim hosts wish to live peaceably among us and to promote an understanding of who they are. They are distressed by the fringe elements who commit terrorist acts and even do things that are against Islamic law (such as killing innocent people) in the name of Islam.

There were some Muslim women there, at least one of whom was an American convert, who shared with us about the role of women. We learned that Muslims do not date, that marriages are arranged, with the woman having final say. The women speaking told us that they had more security with this marriage arrangement because if there is a problem, there is the larger extended family to intervene. Also, if there is a marriage prospect in a man, brothers and uncles of the woman will do all they can to know what that man’s true character is before any plans are made. The women sharing with us also stated that the traditional Muslim dress was liberating to them. They do not have to worry about conforming to the highly fashion-conscious and sexualized images that are so predominant in Western culture, but were instead free to be themselves. Moreover, they don’t have to worry about a “bad hair day” with their traditional head coverings.

The Worship Space

During Ramadan, Muslims will first break their fast with water and dates. We were offered some dates prior to entering the mosque for prayer. Men and women enter from different doors and are separated by a screened partition during worship. When I attended iftar last year, it was at the Islamic Center which is a multi-use facility that includes a prayer room. This year, we were at a mosque located on the other side of town. The building had been a Christian church at one time and had been remodeled to accommodate Muslim worship. The most obvious difference in the layout is that there are no pews. The sanctuary is a large, carpeted space where people gather to say prayers. I almost forgot to mention the other most obvious difference between a mosque and a church is that shoes are removed prior to entering the sanctuary. There are shelves at the doorway on which every person entering may place shoes before proceeding to prayer. Of course, any Christian or Jew who has heard the story of Moses and the burning bush would readily understand the significance of taking off shoes.

The other difference in the worship space we encountered at the mosque is that it is oriented to ensure the facing of Mecca during prayer. There are lines within the carpet that allow worshipers to align themselves so that they are geographically facing Mecca. In the back of the sanctuary were some folding chairs where we non-Muslim observers could sit while prayers were offered. We observed five brief cycles of prayer. The prayers were in Arabic, and there were three basic postures taken by the Muslims at various points in the prayer: standing, kneeling, and prostrating. The prayer leader was located in an alcove at the front and center of the room. The marble alcove had an archway with Arabic writing in a very clean, aesthetic script.

A Surprising Connection

After the prayers had ended, our host gave us a tour of the sanctuary and explained the elements of the room. I was astounded by his explanation of the alcove in front from which the prayers were led. It is called a Mihrab, or prayer niche. The Mihrab, which is located in many mosques, is in honor of Mary, the mother of Jesus! The words in Arabic over the Mihrab were from the Quran. An English translation of the text reads:

"Every time that he entered (her) Mihrab to see her, he found her supplied with sustenance. He said, 'O Mary! Whence (comes) this to you?' She said, 'From God. For God provides sustenance to whom He pleases without measure.'" (Qur'an 3:37).

The text refers to Zacharias, a priest in the temple at Jerusalem who was assigned to care for Mary, according to Islamic legend. He would enter the temple and find Mary in her prayer niche, and she was sustained by God.

Islam, as you may know, does not allow images, but displaying sacred texts is allowed. As I stood there in the mosque, hearing our host explain the Mihrab while looking upon that beautiful white marble structure with Arabic writing, I was amazed. There are two churches where I ordinarily pray. One is a Roman Catholic Church. There is a large Hispanic population there, and in one part of the sanctuary is a beautiful statue of Our Lady of Guadalupe. Also within the church is a more European version of Mary in a simple wooden statue. The other church is Episcopalian which holds to an Anglo-catholic tradition. At the front of the sanctuary is the Lady Chapel. What I like about this church is that the chapel door remains open during the worship service allowing full view of a beautiful statue of Mary in her more “English” representation. How remarkable that Mary became a common bond as I stood there in the mosque! It was as though in my head I was seeing Rome, London, Mexico City, and now Mecca all coming into alignment in honor of Mary.

I have no illusions of any kind of “one world religion” where everyone sings “Kumbaya” and goes happily on their way (nor do I think that would even be desirable). For me, though, that night, the sudden visualization of Mary within the context of prayer and worship was something to celebrate. If you read my essay from my Ramadan experience last year, you will know that the commonality I felt then was that my host and I were both former Baptists. As I said then, you celebrate whatever commonality you can find while respecting and honoring the differences.

Let's Eat!

As we left the sanctuary, we were escorted back to where our meal awaited. The feast spread out on the table before us included meatballs in tomato sauce, manicotti, garlic bread and tossed salad. I had been expecting something in a curry, or a Mediterranean cuisine. "What is this, Italian Night?" I asked. Our host who had been leading our discussion prior to the prayers said, "Yes! My wife is Italian and she prepared this for us!"



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Outer Travels, Inner Changes

"Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it solely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one's lifetime."
~ Samuel Clemens

I grew up under an apartheid system in the Deep South and came of age in the wake of the civil rights movement. I was 15 years old when our schools finally integrated. It was also at that time when as an adolescent I made an adult commitment to the Christian faith that was nurtured in me as a child. I came to see that a tearing down of my own prejudices was a part of my spiritual growth. Such a tearing down required many outer conversations and much interior work – and it certainly did not occur overnight. To this day, I have to deal with an automatic inner prejudicial response that is not programmed in my own daughter’s psyche because she did not grow up under a system of widespread apartheid consciousness. All of this is to say that prejudice is not easily overcome and it is not a once-and-for-all occurrence.

Fast forward ten years or so: I was in my late twenties when I took a job teaching English at Hong Kong Baptist College as a Baptist missionary. I had just spent three years in California studying in seminary. The traveling from Alabama to California to live in a culture different from my own was perhaps more educational than my academic studies. Living in Hong Kong, I was in yet another cultural environment in the Far East. It was a culture that I could easily love, with its blend of Chinese culture, urban living, and remnants of British Empire. While I was in Hong Kong reflecting on my own inner prejudices and noting my changes in attitude, I became aware that I was carrying a deep-seated prejudice toward Arab people. I had never known anyone of Arab descent. I suppose the stories I had heard of the Muslim world (from people who had never been there) had fed my attitudes.

Because of my own history of dealing with ingrained prejudices against African Americans, I knew that the attitudes I carried toward the Arab world were another hurdle to overcome. During my first summer overseas, in between school terms, I decided to do more traveling. I flew to Bangkok, Thailand, did some sight-seeing and then took the train from Bangkok through Malaysia to Singapore. While in Kuala Lumpur, Maylasia, I heard my first call to prayer from the Islamic minarets in that city. I knew that when I arrived in Singapore, I would be able to see Arab culture first-hand.

Singapore is a remarkable island/city/state, clean and well-ordered, where a large population of Malay, Chinese, Hindus, and Arabs manage to dwell peaceably together. I had been living among Chinese people in Hong Kong, so I made it a point while in Singapore to visit the Hindu and Arab sections of the island. I wanted to witness each of those worlds while given the remarkable opportunity to go from one world to the other by taking a simple bus ride from one part of the city to the next. In each place, I was able to sit in the marketplace, eat their respective native cuisines, and visit both Hindu and Muslim houses of worship. I was able to experience some of what Mark Twain referred to when he said prejudice and bigotry cannot survive the effects of travel. In my own case, however, I think that inner preparation beforehand helped me to achieve a greater openness once I arrived.

That trip to Singapore was really my first step in actively seeking some understanding of Islamic culture. In my next post I will talk about my visit this week at a local mosque for a Ramadan iftar (breaking of the fast) and evening prayer.









[All photos for this post were taken by me during my trip to Singapore in 1982. Pictured here, clockwise from the left: a Hindu temple, a marketplace in downtown Singapore, a mosque in the Arab section, and a view of chinatown. Up at the top: the panoramic view is one that I shot while hanging over a balcony and living to tell about it; the other shot is the famous Singapore merlion.]



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