The Veil 07/22/2009
 

I had a dream a few years back that I was among a community of Muslim women.  I was dressed for winter and had a thick, knitted scarf around my neck.  When the time came for evening prayers, the women in the cliffside city took off their headscarves (beautiful, white, flowing) and waved them in the air as they made praise to Allah through ululating calls.

I was so moved by this in the dream that I took off my knitted scarf and attempted to use it in the same way.  It waved, but not as beautifully as the scarves of the other women.  Still, in some way, I felt a part of their community.

There's more to the dream, but the point of sharing this particular portion of one of my more transformative dreams is to introduce a thought-provoking piece about Muslim women, written by a Muslim woman.  The author, Fatemeh Fakhraie, wrote in the website, Altmuslimah--Exploring Both Sides of the Gender Gap--that forming opinions about the relative liberation of Muslim women based on dress or external examinations of life experience is as oppressive to a Muslim woman as any form of paternalism.

As a moderate feminist, I found her article challenging and humbling.  I must admit that nearly every time I have seen a woman wearing a head scarf, burka or other type of conservative Muslim dress--especially if that woman was walking with a man in western dress--I felt pangs of anger, pity and an urge to challenge the couple's choices.

These reactions began a slow change in recent months when I read an article and viewed a video about a young Muslim woman in London who is trying to capture both the spirit of honoring faith with conservative dress and the spirit of honoring youth with design details that cross cultural lines. After viewing the video, I started to realize that there are many Muslim women who dress as they do not because they are bullied or inculturated to do so (or at least, not merely so) but because they are expressing an outward allegiance to the God they love and serve.

So, to my western eyes, what looks unfair (she has to dress conservatively and in a "foreign" manner while he doesn't) may be something else entirely.  I am overlaying my own struggles in our western patriarchy onto a stranger about whom I know very, very little.

The most powerful part of Fakhraie's argument comes from her plea to allow Muslim women agency in their individual paths to "liberation."  She points out that liberation looks different from woman to woman (and man to man, one supposes).  To define freedom for other people, without recognition of cultural norms and the slow path that change naturally travels, is to deny those individuals their own voice and their own choice.

While I do think that there are suitable times where we need to be a "voice for the voiceless"--times of apartheid or genocide--I agree that for the most part, the most effective changes come from within. 

In the case of women wearing scarves, I will make the choice to remember my dream of the beautiful praises the dream women sang using their headscarves to express joy and set aside my assumptions about paternalism and helplessness.  In this way, I will affirm my community with both the women of my dream and the women of our shared world.

 
 

A few Sundays back, the Sunday Question was about the distinction of compassion.  I've been dabbling a bit in meditation recently and started where the Dalai Lama suggests one starts meditation...by concentrating on compassion.  Last night, during my meditation, a thought came to me about compassion.  I recorded it on the flyleaf of a book and recaptured it in my journal this morning.

Compassion is a meeting of the self in the other (and of the other in the self).  The meeting is without envy or pity and each participant leaves the encounter enriched by witnessing (and being witness to) a shared humanity.

I think I'm onto something here...and while it sounds very Eastern in thought, I believe it's exactly the way Christ encountered individuals (at least as it's recorded in the Bible).  He was present.  He got it.  He spoke the truth of the situation, regardless of the other person's "ears to hear."

Just some food for thought on a Friday afternoon.

By the way, the flower above is a bromeliad in bloom.  It was given to me by my friend, Katy, a month or so ago.  Isn't it gorgeous?



 
 

I'm reading a great book, Choices in Healing: Integrating the Best of Conventional and Complementary Approaches to Cancer by Michael Lerner. In reading a chapter on spiritual approaches to cancer today, I found this quote:

"Spirituality can be considered closer to the source dimension [behind every religion] than everyday religion that has moved far from the experience of spirit and primarily serves social and moral purposes."

I thought that was one of the best distinctions I've ever heard between spirituality and religion...but thought it begged the Sunday Question.

What do you think is the difference (or is there one) between spirituality and religion?



 
 

We spent the afternoon wandering about Santa Clara and Gilroy with Erik, then headed back to the hotel for a rest.  No A/C in Erik's car, so we needed to "air out."

Once here, I checked out the LA Times and read an interesting article on Rick Warren, head of one of the largest mega-churches in the U.S. (Saddleback Church).  Warren, who also wrote the best-selling, The Purpose Driven Life, has accomplished the feat of bringing together rival presidential candidates Barack Obama and John McCain on the same stage (scheduled for this weekend). 

The article focused primarily on the clout Warren has developed, resulting in his ability to pull off this coup.  As a recovering evangelical Christian, I was more encouraged by the hope that Warren's ascendency indicates a fundamental shift in American Christianity.

While Warren's compatriots (Falwell, Robertson and Dobson), have been extremely involved in political campaigns and have succeeded in shifting the Republican party to the extreme right on social issues, Rick Warren takes a different stance.  He is more concerned with issues of social justice than divisive focus on homosexuality or abortion.  He does not endorse political candidates.  He is an activist in the fight against AIDS.

His approach reminds me of what originally drew me to Christianity--a focus on compassion, grace and our obligations to our fellow human beings.  Maybe there's hope for Christianity (and followers of Christ rather than followers of dogma) after all.

Got hope?

 
 

Recently I checked out the monthly online website, The Matthew's House Project.  My brother-in-law, Ken Morefield, turned me on to this Christian site last year sometime.  (You'll note, if you follow the link above, his most recent movie review for them...eminently worth checking out!) 

I've browsed through the publication a few times, mostly to read what Ken's written or to read their poetry.  But this issue, an editorial/article caught my eye--"Sexfest at Church."  In it, Matthew's Project editor, Zach Kincaid, discusses the challenge issued by the pastor at Relevant Church to his congregation.  He challenged married couples to have sex every day for 30 days.

Zach objects to the exercise on a number of fronts.  He states that the church's sex push is chauvanistic, intrustive and gimmicky.  Then came the line that prompted me to post a response on the website.

"Isn't Lent more about abstaining from indulgent behaviors rather than erecting additional ones?"  (Nice pun, there...Zach's got a few zingers in the commentary that I quite appreciated.)

As you can read from my comment, I take issue with the idea of marital sex as "indulgent" behavior.  I think of it more as perfectly normal human behavior and, if one believes in the Creator, created and endorsed by the God who loves us.

So while I agree on the gimmicky front, I don't find the push for 30 days of sex to be chauvanistic (hey, newsflash...women like sex, too) nor do I find it indulgent or at odds with my relationship to God.

As to intrusive?  Well, it's a breath of fresh air after all the preaching I've heard in the past ten years or so when most of the pulpit preoccupation had to do with gay sex, gay marriage, gay agendas...and so on ad nauseum.

So I put it to you--is the challenge a good thing?  A bad thing?  Appropriate?  Inappropriate?  Poor taste?  Poor timing?  Or about damned time?