On Reading the Koran and Other Encounters With the Sacred

ON READING THE KORAN AND OTHER ENCOUNTERS WITH THE SACRED

A Sermon by
James Ishmael Ford

25 November 2007
First Unitarian Society
West Newton, Massachusetts

Text

In the Name of God, the Merciful, the Compassionate. Praise belongs to God, the Lord of all Being, the All-merciful, the All-compassionate, the Master of the Day of Doom. Thee only we serve; to Thee alone we pray for succor. Guide us in the straight path, the path of those whom Thou hast blessed…

From the opening chapter of the Koran

I think the majority of folk here know I write a blog, Monkey Mind, named for my newsletter column. I started the blog when I left on my sabbatical to be minister-in-residence at Meadville Lombard, our Unitarian Universalist seminary in Chicago. During that time I found I really liked blogging and have continued it since, now going a couple of months over a year. I generally post something two or three times a week and since the beginning of this church year I now also post my sermons.

For me much of blogging is a magpie experience, featuring my pulling this bit of shinny tin or that lovely bit of yarn from hither and yon, and then sticking it somewhere in my nest. The other day I posted a poem by the late Rick Fields in which he describes an encounter between the Buddha and the Goddess, that is the goddess of neo-paganism. It identifies the Buddha with the Goddess, or perhaps it identifies the goddess with the Buddha. It’s about identity, what the sacred really is. I’d first read it years ago, but had forgotten the poem until a friend posted it at his blog. Thanks to the cut and paste function I had the poem up at my blog a couple of minutes from seeing it.

Among the perks of blogging is the possibility of nearly instantaneous feedback through comments from readers. They’re not particularly common at my blog; often I get none, sometimes one or two, rarely more. Nonetheless I moderate them, deleting spam and contributions that are not on point or represent personal agendas that don’t seem relevant to me. That said I enjoy seeing comments whether I go on to post them or not. And occasionally something really interesting pops up. This poem garnered a couple of comments. One wanted to know how to line up a date with the goddess. Another was from Fausto, a UU blogger who commented how he had “tried to make the same point from a Christian theological perspective: that all human apprehensions of divinity are only differing perceptions of the same Ultimate Reality.”

Pretty quickly after that the “interesting” comment came. It was a blistering note from that most prolific of commentators, “anonymous,” who wrote scathingly about that comment on ultimate reality. I felt therefore the criticism was also about the poem and implicitly at least as I posted the poem, about me, “The smugness with which you offer your witness of the ‘right way’ represents the great underbelly of liberalism and UU. Your meta narrative (all human apprehensions of divinity are only…) is at the very least offensive not to mention arrogant and smacks of the same missionary zeal that most UU’s I know claim to abhor.”

I’ll leave a consideration of that last point, about the writer’s belief most UUs abhor spreading our message, tarring it with words most of us don’t like, like “missionary” and “zeal,” and, hey, “abhor,” for another sermon. Although I want to assert at least in passing that I believe we have something going that can heal hearts and is a message of hope for the world. And, so, I believe we actually have an obligation to let people know about it. Yes, with humility and a knowledge that our insight is imperfect. But, as I said, that’s for another day…

I’m sure Fausto can speak for himself. Today I want to reflect on my own struggle with the difficulties anonymous implied regarding what she or he called the “meta narrative” that all the religious traditions are “only differing perceptions of the same Ultimate Reality.” I suggest this assertion is not about the “underbelly” of liberal religion, at least as I see it, but rather with some necessary nuancing, it suggests the very ground on which we stand.

Anonymous’ only stated objection was that this assumption of a unifying insight was “offensive.” Disagree, I can understand. Offense is a bit harder. Possibly one could be offended because it is an assertion of reality that subsumes other perspectives as only partially right, and implies they need correction or completion. If that’s the point, anonymous is voicing an objection that many feel to the triumphalism of Christians seeing themselves completing Judaism or Muslims seeing themselves completing Judaism and Christianity. If you’re on the receiving end of such “completion” you could be annoyed. Heck, I don’t even like when well meaning Christian friends tell me I’m really a Christian.

But, here’s the rub. I think there is, first, a liberal religious perspective that both encompasses the world’s religious traditions and, second, invites us to a humble encounter with those traditions. This may not please anonymous, or adherents of various only true ways, but it is what I believe, and where I stand. As someone else who tested and found what he must believe said, “Here I stand. I can do no other.” I must, as many of us here might agree, stand on the premise of our essential unity.

Yes, it’s more complicated than that bald statement can suggest. We must be careful, and not just because we might offend someone. When we hold our views too tightly, too smugly, as simply another triumphalism, we can miss the constant beckoning of the spirit. Our spiritual journey is like sailing between Scylla and Charybdis, avoiding the monsters of credulity on the one hand and certainty on the other. But its important, very important, to try. I believe this insight into our deep connections while honoring the differences is the way home.

I’ve given my life to the spiritual journey. And I’ve found what so many others have found within so many different religious traditions and I’ve also noticed is reported by people who claim no religious tradition. It is this: there is a place we can find where all words ultimately fail, but still, in some sense words like “one” and “interdependent web” come close to describing it. And that place heals the heart. It is our home.

And, and this is a hard part, but equally important, just as important: that “one,” that “interdependent web” that ultimate reality is, for me, only really known as I attend to particular things. I believe this whole glorious mess that includes you and me, cockroaches and galaxies is all ultimately one. But I know that “one” only from specific perspectives. I find what we’re calling ultimate reality only as I attend to the specifics of my many relationships, with this and this, with you and you. Let me give an example.

Which is a long way around for me to recommend such things as reading the Koran, the title for today’s reflection. Of course it doesn’t have to specifically be reading the Koran. But it’s a particularly good example of how we come to find the one by approaching it from specific perspectives. I find Islam among the most intriguing and difficult religions going. In some ways it is easier to comprehend than the religions of the East.

After all it belongs to the family of Abrahamic religions, it claims the same God, more or less as one finds in Judaism and Christianity. On the other hand, it remains the great “other,” the world religion that has most bumped up against Christendom, challenged it, contended with it, has occupied Christian soil and has been occupied by Christians. This clash of civilizations has been going on for a long, long time. Islam is so similar and so different to Judaism and Christianity; it’s a perfect subject for us to consider if we want to know the one in its many particulars, particularly particulars that put us off balance.

I’ve mentioned how many years ago I studied the Universalist Sufism taught by the Indian mystic Inayat Khan and his American disciple Samuel Lewis. While this form of Sufism has only the most tenuous connections with its Islamic origins I felt I needed to get a bit better grounding in Islam if I were to really understand what this version of the Sufi message was. I recall trying to learn the rudiments of Arabic from Sheikh Shemsaddin, a Pakistani Sufi living in San Francisco. I’m sure I broke his heart as we both discovered that for this lifetime, at least, I’m doomed to be a monoglot. After months of study I can recognize the word for God in Arabic. And that’s about it.

But along the way I did read the Koran in an English translation. A fascinating document, about the same size as the Christian New Testament, but written in a single and often compelling voice. It is putatively the words of God given to Mohammed at various times throughout his life through the mediation of the angel Gabriel. And while similar to parts of the Bible, it is also very different. For instance if you read the Koran you find lots of references to Jesus, although with a twist. The Jesus here is not God, not the son of God, but rather the seal of the saints. My point is as one reads the Koran, where it is both familiar and so different we can gain some perspectives that are very helpful.

This week I did some wandering around the web googling terms like “Koran” and “Islam.” There appears to be little interest out there for an honest investigation. Most of what one finds races between those who would reduce Islam to simply being about peace and the Koran the unveiled word of God to those who refer to Muslims quite literally as “animals” and love to quote all the difficult passages from the Muslim sacred scriptures. Sort of how atheist writers of earlier generations liked to mine the Bible. I really recommend finding a good translation of the Koran. Then read it for yourself, and see what you find.
Possibly the only great Unitarian Universalist theologian, that is the only great religious thinker produced by our consolidated denomination, the Unitarian Universalist Association so far is James Luther Adams. I love that Adams was teased by his colleagues for believing in “salvation by bibliography.” I suggest that reading is indeed a part of our Unitarian Universalist spiritual discipline. For us that means reading widely in the religious and the scientific world. As an aside if you want an example of a scientific spiritual classic you might try Edward O. Wilson’s Biophilia.

So, I suggest we should read the Psalms of David, we should read the Hindu classic the Bhagavad Gita, we should read the Confucianist classic the Analects, we should read the Taoist classic the Tao Te Ching, we should read the Christian classic the Gospel of John and we should read the Koran. As we do this I believe we don’t find one faith necessarily completes the other, but that each completes all. We don’t have to believe they’re dictated by God, but rather all we need is to think maybe, possibly, somewhere within them, they do contain pointers on the way, hints at what we might find as we look within our own hearts. We need only read humbly, with open hearts.

I found as I read the Koran that way I was challenged, constantly. There were parts that deeply offended me. And I found profound resonances with parts of my heart I barely knew existed. I was particularly moved by the constant refrain calling us to a God that is love and power and joy. Did I believe it? Well, maybe just a little bit. But that little bit was something wondrous. For me it spoke to that saying of Mohammed that if we take a single step toward God, he will run toward us. I read the Koran and I got a little bit of what that might mean.

And if reading a book can help like this, imagine what its like if we’re willing to have a deep conversation with another person, particularly someone walking what seems to be a radically different spiritual path? Here’s a way of intimacy, and challenge, and hurt, and ultimately, of healing. There are other practices, as well, of course. But these are enough for today.

Now, back to that early question. Does what I’m saying assume a meta narrative? Well, yes, it does. And here’s the narrative, the not so hidden agenda: It is the Universalist story that we all have the possibility of reconciliation, of healing our hearts and minds, of knowing truth. And wonder upon wonders, it is all in our hands, yours and mine. All we have to do is open our hearts where every secret already rests. The ways in are multiple. As Religious Liberals on the spiritual quest we need to allow ourselves to read widely, and to speak with, and to be with others as they are, while also trusting the possibility there is something deep that connects. Encounter the other, all the others from that ground and then miracles abound, the gates of heaven are thrown open, and we discover our way into paradise.

It’s about nothing less than that.

Amen.