In my father's words: terrorism and the Muslim faith

In the last few days, I have received a couple of emails asking for help/action to convey a lack of support for a building to honor the Muslim faith, proposed to be built near the 9-11 site in New York and a stamp commemorating the Muslim faith. My reaction to both of these emails was not to forward the email rejecting both ideas to "all of my friends." Rather, I wanted to respond with my own concerns about what messages like this do to efforts to understand our Muslim brothers and sisters and honor their right to their own faith, as our constitution and Christianity admonishes us to do.

Then my own father said it so well earlier this week in an email response to one of the requests. He said it so well that I reprint it here:
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"Today I got an email and it caused me to review my Christian faith and my understanding of Jesus' gospel. The email was about the new 44-cent stamp which the US Postal Service is putting out. The stamp celebrates a Muslim holiday.

The email continues a very negative view and encourages the public to not buy the stamp. The negative message accuses "Muslims" of terrorist attacks and names six incidents. The repetition of the word "Muslim" lumps all Muslims together with responsibility for terrorism.

I have a problem with this view.

1) I don't believe all Muslims are responsible for terrorism. The same as I don't believe all Christians are responsible for the Michigan militiamen who proposed killing a police officer to provoke a revolution.

2) As a Christian, what do I do with Jesus' command to "Love your enemies" (Matthew 5:43, Luke 6:27,35)? One thing I believe I should do is not pre-judge others by lumping them all together for crimes some of them have committed.

3) Hollywood and TV have used the old Immigration saying "Coming to America." What do we say to Islamic immigrants who come to America? Do we say that we have freedom of religion, but not your religion? Do we say that you can celebrate only the Christian religion?

These words stick in my throat. I'm not sure what the full answer is for persons of different religions in America, but I am sure it is not the answers in that email. The Arabic word Muslim literally means "one who submits to God." I will submit to Jesus' command "You have heard it said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy." But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you will be children of your Father in heaven."

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We are all born into our families by chance. Some are Christians, others are Bahai, still others are Muslim. Some people do change from their family's belief, but most remain of the faith they were born into. Most of my friends are Christians, some are of other faiths, while some profess no formalized religion.

When we pass on emails such as the two I referenced at the beginning of this post, we simply serve to pass on the overgeneralization that demonizes those outside our faith. Yes, a FEW Muslims were responsible for the 9-11 tragedy. But there are thousands, perhaps millions of Muslims who do not condone what was done by a few. When we espouse an exclusionary way of belief, instead of inclusionary, we are not walking the path that Christ urged us to walk. We must seek first to love and understand, and above all not generalize from the sin of a few to the faith of many.

If you agree, please pass this on through love and understanding.

I believe there is more (my testimony)

My life has been a lot like yours. I've had some wonderful, mountain top experiences. But, I admit there have been times when I’ve heard the phrase, “God never gives you more than you can handle” that I’ve looked up at God, shook my fist, and screamed “I’m not as good at handling this stuff as you think I am. Stop it, already!”

But my life has included some of the big ones: divorce, even though it was not my choice; single parenting; remarriage; a blended family of six children (who were NOT the Brady bunch!); a child custody battle where I lost my then 6 year-old daughter for 6 months; unemployment; foreclosure, holding my stillborn granddaughter in my arms. And some of you may have heard me talk about God’s steadfastness during these trials. How every time I couldn’t figure out how to manage, when things looked so hopeless, God found a way.

E V E R Y S I N G L E T I M E he had a plan in store that was better than I could ever have imagined!

So you may be a little surprised to hear that three years ago, I had forgotten all this. In fact, I had forgotten about so many of my blessings. I was working at the University, overloaded beyond belief, due to budget cuts and demand for services at the community research program I directed. The program took me all over the state of Iowa – something I loved, since my greatest joy was in working WITH people who are affected by public policy, as opposed to making and tracking public policy – the profession I was trained for years ago.

Yes, I was running at top speed. And I was loving (and probably hooked on) the speed and the good feedback I was getting from it. I felt like I had the best of two worlds: work I loved and work that provided a decent living. But, slowly, things began to change. I became overly tired and could never seem to get enough rest. If you ask my husband, he’ll tell you I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around sometimes (don’t shake your head too hard, Richard). I began noticing problems with a tremor in my hands and my head. My balance was changing, I began running into walls, my knees crumbled under me sometimes. Worst of all, in reviewing my work output, I found mistakes in the data analysis and writing that were an integral part of the work I was doing.

My response to all of this – work harder! As the saying goes, “say a prayer, pull up yer bootstraps, and keep on keepin’ on.” Then, on June 21^st, 2008, my world crashed. I couldn’t face work and life anymore. I drove to the parking lot at work, and I couldn’t get out of the car. I couldn’t go on. I felt like I was watching myself, but could ONLY watch. I could not DO anything.

God spoke to me that day and told me to get help. I literally heard him say "Kathlene, go to the hospital!" And I received wonderful help. My husband stood by me in a way that has given me a new faith in him and our marriage. Since then, I’ve been healing…my doctors have found lesions in my brain that pretty well explain the physical, emotional, and cognitive symptoms I was and still am experiencing. I have had to learn to live my life at 5 miles per hour, instead of 75. I have had to learn to live with a unknown diagnosis and an uncertain prognosis.

But here’s the issue: As recently as a year ago, even though I knew of God’s love, though I believed I’d lived his plan for my life, I still felt empty a lot of the time. I wondered why God put all of the opportunities -- the work I loved, the scholarships and education I treasured in my path, if he was just going to snatch it all away 20 years later?

My doctors have said I should not return to work. And so I was left with wondering…is that all there is? Is this failure? What’s left?

About a year ago, I asked a friend of mine that very question. What’s the point if so much can be taken away in such a short time? He looked at me and said, “Kathlene, what’s left is love.”

In Psalm 139, we hear “Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast…..For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.”

In the Balti language of northern Pakistan, there is no word for failure - the closest equivalent translates roughly as "transition." I know that I am in transition now. I continually remind myself of God’s presence in my life through prayer and listening to a daily Bible reading. My life is not over. It’s true I still run into walls occasionally and sometimes come up some weird non sequiturs. My memory is gone, and I usually have to ask my husband what day it is.

Slowing down has helped a lot of my symptoms and I’m happy to say that the number of new brain lesions has slowed dramatically. I am able to play the piano, which gives me so much joy. I have 17 beautiful grandchildren and we’re anticipating the birth of #18 in June. I’m married to an amazing man and I belong to a wonderful community of Christians in this church. I have three wonderful adult children who are married to wonderful, fine partners.

I have SO MANY BLESSINGS!

And I know there is more….

I believe...God has the Power to heal and restore.

I believe he has the power

- to bring miracles into my life and yours,

- to create events so wonderful that we can never begin to

imagine them

- provide blessings so numerous, we could never begin to

remember them or count them.

Yes, today, I believe there is more in store for us all!

Testimony for “I Believe There Is More”

April 24 & 25^th, 2010

First United Methodist Church

Nevada, IA