I
felt the presence of God. It didn’t come
after the rendering of one of those soul stirring hymns. It wasn’t after a prayer loaded with loud
shouts and declarations accented with the name of Jesus. It wasn’t a message in a sermon. It came in the middle of a chant.
I
didn’t understand one word.
I
felt something budge from the inside. It
came after sitting for over an hour in a room filled with people from different
faiths. Death brought us together. Shame forced us to pray. Politicians and faith leaders uttered what
all of us thought - what happened at the Oak Creek Sikh Temple in Wisconsin is
not who we are as a nation. The madness
involving the murder of people while in prayer forced each of us to consider what
it means to be an American.
No
one knows what Wade Michael Page was thinking after opening fire on those in
prayer. The hundreds who gathered on
Wednesday night at the Sikh Gurudwara of North Carolina declared a commitment
to learn more about religions other than their own. Bill Bell, mayor of Durham, and Michael
Woodard, member of the Durham City Council, both talked about the importance of
religious freedom. All of the speakers
did the same.
America
is about freedom, not intolerance.
It
is sad that it took death to bring us to this temple, Jose Lopez, Durham’s
police chief and others said. It is true. It was my first time worshiping
with the Sikh community. There was so
much I didn’t know about them.
“You
know the first person beaten after 911 was a Sikh,” Michael Woodard whispered
in my ear as we prepared to start worship.
The brochure passed out to visitors when we walked in states that 99% of
those who wear turbans in the United States are Sikhs. People confuse them with Muslims. It’s one of many examples of how intolerance
is fed by ignorance.
I
sat and listened as small children walked into the temple and bowed before
taking their seat on the floor. I felt
the sincerity as I watched as Sikhs watched me.
Their deep fixed stare was occupied with a smile. Each person who smiled followed with “Thank
you for coming. Thank you so much for
coming.”
I
had to come. How could I stay away?
“Forgive
us Lord for the way some teach the faith I share,” I whispered as I listened to
the soothing music and chant. “Lord,
help us become more loving. Grant
Christians the spirit of the Sikhs.”
That’s
when I felt the movement from a place too deep to find. Psalms 42:7 came to
mind. Deep calls to deep in the roar of
your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me. The
floodgates were opened. A wave of
emotions forced me to swim to find safety.
I couldn’t find my way to the shore.
It was too much to get away from the flood.
Only
questions emerged. Why do we hate so
much? Why can’t we see the beauty in all
religions? Why the need to minimize
others to validate our own faith? Why
can’t we stop and listen?
I
paused from my fight with myself long enough to look at my friend. Michael Woodward invited me to come. He sat next to me in a way that seemed to
reflect a need to find his own way. His
message to those gathered mentioned a Desmond Tutu talk about God not being
just a Christian. I considered my
friends work on the city council. I
considered his work in the church he loves so much. I thought of his run for the North Carolina Senate
that is all but certain. I thought of
what brought him to the temple.
His
gut ached as much as mine. Deep calls to deep in the roar of the
waterfalls, I had to stop swimming.
I couldn’t get there alone. We
have to get their together - one act of faith at a time. When we can’t swim any
longer, our combined faith will carry us to the shore.
We
then went outside to burn candles and pray. As those of Sikh faith prayed, I
heard a song from that deep place. There’s
a sweet, sweet spirit in this place. I closed my eyes. I opened them and looked at the flickering
candles. I was surrounded by light. It came in the midst of darkness. All of us were there – Christian, Muslim, Bahá'í, Jewish, Unitarian
Universalist, Buddhist and Sikh. We
prayed together.
I’m not sure who began the rumor about needing
to prove others wrong to make yourself right.
The sparks of light piercing through the darkness radiated beyond the
sacred space in front of the temple. We
were held together by a hand large enough to calm the tension caused by
indifference.
We became one.
It’s a shame people had to die to help us see
the light. Now that we have been
captured by the power from the deep, we can’t let it go.
Too much has been lost to go back to what we
were before it all happened.
I've got my light. I'm gonna let it shine.
Rest
in peace.
The next and more difficult step will be to try to enlighten the people who don't attend prayer meetings like this.
ReplyDelete"What is to give light must endure burning. -Viktor Frankl, author, neurologist and psychiatrist, Holocaust survivor (1905-1997)