Toqa, a friend from Egypt, sent me this message last week. I think it's really cool that I have friends who also embroider, especially when they do so out of devotion to God. And that's what touched me so much, because Toqa is talking about Moses praying to God for the courage to talk to the pharaoh. I know this story, but from my own Bible! Moses was commanded by God to free the Israelites from slavery in Egypt and lead them through the desert to the Promised Land. Only, I didn't know that this was also in the Quran... In the Old Testament of the (Christian) Bible, yes. In the Torah of the Jews (the first five books of “our” Bible), too. But in the Quran? I had no idea. And then I immediately wonder: how much more do our religions have in common? And why are there so many differences? I now know that according to the Quran, Moses is a prophet (I read that in Toqa's message), and I already knew from Lily, another Egyptian friend, that Jesus is a prophet to them. That is different from what Christians believe, because we believe that Jesus is the Son of God, the Word who became flesh to free us from our sins.
Now, despite the differences—and this is where I'm going with this—I know that Toqa and I are talking about the same God. That may sound strange, given the differences in religion. Toqa is a deeply religious and practicing Muslim, and I am a Christian who has no rules regarding clothing or food. Christians also have no fixed rules regarding prayer times, whereas Muslims do. There are countless differences, but what stands out for me in our conversations time and again are the similarities. When Toqa talks about Allah, about her God... Man, you can really feel the love for and from Him! I kid you not! That love is so incredibly beautiful and so holy, and in no way different from the love I myself experience when I pray. It's exactly the same.
I also have another friend, Lily, with whom I talk and pray every week. Lily is also a Muslim and, just like Toqa, she lives in Egypt. When Lily and I video call, we begin and end our conversation with a prayer. Sometimes it is the Serenity Prayer, sometimes we pray in our own words. But when we pray, we pray to the same God. We both experience it that way. Only she prays to Allah, and I pray to the God who is Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
That leads me to the following question: are there two gods? No. That's not possible. There aren't two gods. I know that for sure.
This leads to the next question: are Toqa, Lily, and the billions of other Muslims wrong? Or are the Christians mistaken? I am sure that many Christians will say that we have a “patent on God” and that the rest of humanity is mistaken.The Bible is true, and the rest is nonsense. Well, I don't agree. I know people who have a true and deep faith without being affiliated with any religion. People who, when they meditate or spend time in the wild, rugged nature, feel incredibly connected to God. Men and women who lead spiritual lives that I look up to and can learn a lot from. People who live according to spiritual principles such as humility, tolerance, and love. A life that is only possible through and with the love of God, without being connected to any religion. For them, God is a Power, a force, an energy, a flow of love, which they experience, independent of dogmas and traditions.
I found these questions interesting, so I went on a journey of discovery. Surprise, surprise: I am not the first to ask these questions. Who would have thought! Theologians throughout the centuries have racked their brains over this, and there is no ready-made answer to this question. But I have found some beautiful comparisons that help me to better frame and understand this.
The first comparison I came across is that we can compare our different religious experiences with looking at the sun. We all look at the same sun—God, that is—but through different windows. My window has a different color than Toqa's or Lily's window, and because of that, we interpret our faith in very different ways. Dogmas, rituals, and rules differ, but ultimately, it is the same sun we are looking at.
Another is that we could compare our journey of faith to climbing a mountain. God is the top of the mountain, but how we reach it depends on which side we climb the mountain from. Nature will look completely different on the north side than on the south side, and therefore the way we climb will also require different tools. Hence the differences in rituals and customs. But ultimately, in the end, we all end up at the same mountaintop.
I describe that mountaintop as true Love. With a capital letter! Love that is so great, so transcendent, that it surpasses all understanding. Love as I described earlier in Be at peace with yourself (part 2), comparing it to the love I feel for my sister's children. That same love—but perhaps even greater—is what God feels for me. And for Toqa and Lily. And for everyone who knows Him or does not know Him, because God's love doesn't depend on us at all. His love is as certain as the sun rising and setting every day. Love, which is greater than we can comprehend with our human minds or even our souls, is, in my opinion, too great to be pigeonholed or placed within a religion.
I believe that religion is a very beautiful and helpful attempt to come closer to God. I would not want to live without my Bible anymore. And I might not have found God if I had not gone to church or spent time with other Christians in recent years. But if we fixate on religion and thereby exclude, persecute, or torment others in God's name, then we are missing the point entirely. The fact that this pushes non-believers further away from God (who understandably stay away from the Church as a result of this, or who think all Muslims are bad because of the actions of a few) makes it much, much worse. That can never be the will of a God who is Love. If we were to treat each other with His love—believers and non-believers alike—I believe the world would be a much better place.
Lily and I were talking about this last week. Lily said that her greatest wish is that all believers would realize that it's all about love (excuse me, Love!), and how wonderful it would be if we could all live together in peace. At the same time, we both realize very well how much that is wishful thinking. But there is one thing you and I can do, and that is to take off our own blinders and treat each other with Love. We can do this by focusing on the similarities—our hearts beating at the same rhythm—and not on the differences. And when that happens, in loving one-on-one relationships, wonderful things can happen, across all religions.
Amen. (Sorry, I couldn't resist!)
And for those who are perhaps curious, this is the result of Toqa's day of embroidery!
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