A few days ago I spoke on the phone with one of my favorite
people: my 99-year-old grandma. Throughout my whole life she’s taught me
things, mostly through stories about her life and the lives of her parents and
grandparents. The stories of her grandfather and great-grandfather are important to
my message today because their lives have unique parallels to my experience
with understanding Islam.
First,
I’ll share the story of my grandmother’s paternal grandfather: Edmund
Richardson. Early in the spring of 1853, Edmund and his family joined a small
group of immigrants heading to Oregon. They had just converted from the Baptist
church to another Protestant faith, and due to some harsh disapproval from
extended family members, they decided it was best to start over somewhere new. On their way west, Edmund’s family and the
rest of the small wagon train received all sorts of advice about their journey,
but one thing they heard over and over was to beware of the Mormons, a strange
religious group who mistreated women and had violent tendencies. Edmund and the
other immigrants planned to avoid Utah completely, but just after the group
crossed the Platte River, Edmund’s wagon overturned, nearly drowning his
daughter and causing his family to lose most of their provisions.
Soon after,
their oxen died, and the leader of the party advised Edmund and his family to
try and spend the winter in Utah and then get to Oregon as quickly as possible
the next spring. With heavy hearts, Edmund and his family left the wagon train
and headed towards the Great Salt Lake. After several days of slow, painful
travel, they camped near a spot on the Jordan River that they hoped was far enough
from both the Mormons and Indians that they would be safe. They had just
finished setting up camp when they were surprised by a small, barefoot boy
riding a pony. As he got closer they saw he was carrying a large pail of milk.
The boy explained that he and his family were Mormons who farmed nearby. His
mother had seen the family’s campfire and thought that they might enjoy some
fresh milk. Edmund couldn’t believe it. What he had heard about Mormons wasn’t
matching with what he was experiencing, and he wasn’t sure what to think.
Though they
still had some reservations, Edmund and his family were so touched by this
Mormon boy’s gesture that they decided to take a risk and accept another
family’s invitation to dinner the next night. A few days later Edmund was hired
by a local mill owner, and he and his family began meeting Mormon families
throughout the community. He was amazed to find that these families were
exactly the opposite of what he had heard: they were kind, hardworking, and loving. The following Sunday, Edmund and his family were invited to a church
meeting. During the meeting Edmund felt something special; he later said that
he heard his first real sermon on the gospel that day. Shortly thereafter, he
and his family joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and my
family has been LDS ever since.
In many ways, my experience with Muslims is much like my
great-great grandfather’s experience with Mormons. I grew up in Denver,
Colorado and didn’t know any Muslims, but I had seen things on T.V. and in
movies. I remember anxiously watching coverage of the Middle East during
Operation Desert Storm and writing letters to soldiers in Iraq. I also remember
watching a movie where the villain was a man from Iran who was so abusive that
his wife and daughter had to run away from him. And so, as far as I knew,
Muslims were scary. Though no one explicitly told me to “beware of Muslims” the
message was still clear: Muslims were a strange religious group who mistreated
women and had violent tendencies, and I wanted nothing to do with them. I might
still have those beliefs today, but like my great-great grandfather Edmund,
circumstances led me to an unexpected shift in my perspective. Though my
experience wasn’t as dramatic as his, at the time it seemed devastating: when I
turned fifteen, my parents divorced and, a result, I had to go to a new high
school.
Luckily for me, I met a group of nice kids in an AP History
class, including two girls with unusual names: Tehniat and Guncha. Tehniat and
her family were from Pakistan, and Guncha and her family were from
Turkmenistan. Soon after meeting them, I learned that they were Muslim, and I began
to experience the same kind of cognitive dissonance that Edmund had felt when
he first met Mormons. Tehniat and Guncha certainly weren’t scary, and when I
met their families I saw that they were kind, loving, and hardworking. Their
fathers treated their mothers with love and respect, and their families not
only prayed and worshipped together, they also had a lot of fun together. Like
my great-grandfather I quickly realized that everything I thought I knew was
wrong, and the older I got, the more grateful I became for my Muslim friends.
After high school, we all went to different universities,
but Guncha and Tehniat continued to influence my life. Due to my experiences
with them, I decided to study Arabic, and in 2001, I had the amazing
opportunity to study at the University of Damascus for a semester. Once again
my day-to-day experience with Muslims only solidified my belief that they were
generally good people who were simply doing their best to live good lives. I
came home excited to continue my studies, blissfully unaware that the America I
knew was about to change forever.
As you all know, September 11, 2001 was the date that
terrorists from a group called Al Qaeda flew two airplanes into the Twin Towers
in New York. As devastating as this day was for me, I was horrified when I
found out what it meant for my Muslim friends. Despite the fact that so many of
them had lived peacefully in the U.S. for years, they were suddenly treated
with suspicion and sometimes even outright hate. To me, Tehniat and Guncha were
just American girls, but to others, they were suddenly a threat to American
safety.
As I have thought back to this period of time and all the fear that my friends and I felt, it has reminded me of another important story that my grandmother told me that also includes the date September 11th, only this date was not September 11, 2001, but September 11, 1857. In order to explain this day, I need to give some background on another relative, my great-great-great grandfather John D. Lee.
As I have thought back to this period of time and all the fear that my friends and I felt, it has reminded me of another important story that my grandmother told me that also includes the date September 11th, only this date was not September 11, 2001, but September 11, 1857. In order to explain this day, I need to give some background on another relative, my great-great-great grandfather John D. Lee.
Unlike Edmund Richardson, John D. Lee joined the Church of
Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints long before the Mormons went west. He knew the
church’s founder, Joseph Smith, and like many other early Mormons, was forced
to move several times, experiencing horrible persecution at the hands of mobs
in Missouri before moving west with his family to Utah. By 1857 he and his
family had finally established themselves in a safe and comfortable home near
St. George, where they hoped to live in peace for the rest of their lives.
Unfortunately, this was not to be.
Due to machinations in American politics and misinformation
that continuously spread about Mormons, in 1857 the U.S. government decided it
was necessary to send an army to Utah to put down what some called a “Mormon
rebellion.” When the LDS people found out, they were (understandably) very
upset. Some worried that everything that had happened in Missouri and Illinois
was about to happen again. Many decided that they were not going to be forced
out of their homes and determined that they would fight instead. Overall, it
was a time of incredible tension, and when people heard that Parly P. Pratt, a
Mormon missionary, had been murdered in Arkansas, they became even more upset,
scared, and angry. As fate would have it, a wagon train from Arkansas happened
to be passing through Utah in 1857, and rumors spread that the group included
enemies of the church. It was even said that a few members of the wagon train
were bragging that they had helped a Missouri mob kill Joseph Smith.
Later, it was discovered that these rumors were false, and
that the people on the wagon train were just a group of innocent families
trying to reach California, but unfortunately, the fear among some,
particularly a group in southern Utah that included John D. Lee, had grown to a
fever pitch. Historians have argued over what exactly happened next (the best source
I can recommend is listed below), but what we do know for certain is that on
September 11, 1857 a group of LDS men massacred 120 innocent men, women and
children in an area called Mountain Meadows (Walker, Turley, and Leonard, Massacre at Mountain Meadows). Eventually,
John D. Lee was excommunicated from the church for his involvement in this
tragic event. He was also put on trial for participation in the massacre and
was eventually convicted and executed by a firing squad in 1877.
Now you might wonder why my grandmother told me this story;
it seems like the kind of thing most families would want to forget and never,
ever speak of again. But I believe my grandmother made sure that I, and all her
children and grandchildren, remember this story because it teaches an important
lesson about fear. When people become overpowered by fear they can do horrible
things. Even otherwise good people can destroy lives, including their own, and
cause pain for generations to come.
Today, we, like the Utah Mormons of 1857, live in a time of
tension. We hear stories every day of crime, murder, war, famine, and terrorist
acts. Some of these happen far away and some happen close to home, and in
response, some argue that we have to fight, we have to defend ourselves, we
have to do whatever it takes to stay safe. While I am sympathetic to these
fears, I worry that like group of Mormon men who ended up attacking the wagon
train in 1857, our fears could lead us on a path to destruction; a path that
would cost many innocent lives, destroy our own lives, and cause untold pain
for generations that follow us.
Fear has become an especially prevalent theme in our most
recent election cycle. In December 2015, Donald Trump went so far as to suggest
that we should protect ourselves from terrorists by banning all Muslims from
coming to the U.S. To me, this is a classic example of allowing fear to
overcome reason. Such a policy would go against everything the United States
stands for, and though some security measures are necessary, we should never
embrace actions that go against our deepest values. If he were alive today, my great-great-great-grandfather
could tell you why. And because I know his story so well, I was overjoyed when
the LDS Church responded to Trump’s statement with clear condemnation. Part of
their statement included these two quotes from Joseph Smith about the
importance of preserving freedom for everyone, regardless of their religious
beliefs:
“If it has been demonstrated that I have been
willing to die for a ‘Mormon,’ I am bold to declare before Heaven that I am
just as ready to die in defending the rights of a Presbyterian, a Baptist, or a
good man of any denomination; for the same principle which would trample upon
the rights of the Latter-day Saints would trample upon the rights of the Roman
Catholics, or of any other denomination who may be unpopular and too weak to
defend themselves. It is a love of liberty which inspires my soul—civil and
religious liberty to the whole of the human race.” —Joseph Smith, 1843
“Be it ordained by the City Council of the City of
Nauvoo, that the Catholics, Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists, Latter-day
Saints, Quakers, Episcopals, Universalists, Unitarians, Mohammedans [Muslims],
and all other religious sects and denominations whatever, shall have free
toleration, and equal privileges in this city.” —Ordinance in Relation to
Religious Societies, City of Nauvoo, Illinois, headquarters of the Church,
March 1, 1841
So how do we do this?
One of the most basic things we can do is to start by understanding each other better. This key strategy is outlined clearly and simply in preface to the book Our Search for Happiness: A Guide to Understanding Members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. In it, M. Russell Ballard begins with this invitation:
Consider
for a moment the word understanding.
It’s a
simple word, really—one that most of us use every day. But it means something
that is quite remarkable. With understanding we can strengthen relationships,
revitalize neighborhoods, unify nations, and even bring peace to a troubled
world. Without it chaos, intolerance, hate, and war are often the result.
In other
words, misunderstanding.
As many of you know, misunderstandings about our church are incredibly common. For example, people tend to be confused about LDS beliefs because of the nickname “Mormon.” Many people have no idea what this refers to; it just sounds kind of weird. Some people know it refers to the Book of Mormon, but they have no idea that we also read the Bible and that we believe the same basic things all Christians believe.
However, if you look at the actual name of the church—The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—who we are becomes much more obvious.
1. We are followers of Jesus Christ. (It would be kind of weird for us to
name the church after him if we didn’t, right?)
2. We are modern day believers (hence the phrase “latter-day”).
3. We are “saints” just like early followers of Christ during New
Testament times (see Romans 16:2; Colossians 1:2). Okay, to be fair, the word
“saint” can be a bit confusing. Some people think the word suggests perfection,
but Mormons are not perfect, and no one knows that better than we do. The best
definition for the Mormon version of “saint” that I know of comes from Nelson
Mandela, who once defined saint as “a sinner who keeps on trying.”
Interestingly, many people in the U.S. misunderstand Muslims for the same reason they misunderstand Mormons: they don’t know what their name actually means. Fortunately, because I studied Arabic, I have a deep appreciation for the words “Muslim” and “Islam.” If you translate Islam directly into English it means “submission” or “surrender,” specifically submission/surrender to God. A Muslim is a person who does this, in other words, a “submitter” or “surrenderer” to God. Basically, just like we use the words “teach” and “teacher” to distinguish between the action of teaching and someone who teaches, Arabic speakers also use similar versions of the word “asallama” (to submit) to distinguish between “Islam” (submission to God) and Muslim (a person who submits to God).
Though this linguistic definition helps, however, I think I really understood what Islam means after one of my Muslim friends asked me, “Diantha, who do you think the greatest Muslim was?”
I immediately answered, “The Prophet Muhammad, right? Who could be a better Muslim than him?”
My friend smiled broadly and said, “Nice try.”
Then he continued, “The Prophet Muhammad—peace be
upon him—was truly a great Muslim. But actually, the greatest and best example
of Islam is the Prophet Abraham. Abraham was God’s special friend because he
was willing to do anything He asked, even sacrifice his own son. What better
example of submission is there than that?”
I had to admit that he was right. And I think this experience was so memorable to me because, when I recognized Abraham as the perfect example of Islam (submission), I finally realized that I had actually always understood Islam, I just hadn’t known it. I grew up hearing the story of Abraham, just like I grew up hearing stories from my family history. I had always been taught that I, too, should be willing to follow and accept God’s will, or as the Bible puts it:
“Trust in
the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding. In
all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.” (Proverbs 3:5-6)
I also like how the Qu’ran puts it:
"I
put my trust in Allah, My Lord and your Lord! There is not a moving creature,
but He hath grasp of its fore-lock. Verily, it is my Lord that is on a straight
Path” [11:56]
And what I love about Muslims is that, for most of them, the idea of trusting in and submitting to God’s will isn’t just something they do on Fridays when they go to the mosque. It’s not just something they do once a year during Ramadan.
Submission is something they strive for every single day.
The desire to follow God in all aspects of their life makes true Muslims some of the kindest, happiest people you will ever meet. I have seen the effects of this effort firsthand, and I can tell you that it makes the Muslims I know better friends, better students, better employees, better husbands/wives, better fathers/mothers, and better citizens of whatever country they live in.
Are you beginning to understand, now? Can you see that, at
the core, Mormons and Muslims are really striving for the same thing—trusting
in God and letting our lives be guided by him?
If so, I hope you don’t let that understanding stop here. I
hope you will strive to continue to understand Muslims—and all the people
around you—because as you do, you will understand your own beliefs better. You
will become more able to be true to your deepest values and never let fear or
hate overcome the person you truly are.
Understanding truly is the best place to start, but it is
only the beginning. It is my hope that all of us will continue the quest to
understand better every day. As we do, I know we will create stories that one
day our children and grandchildren will retell with pride, grateful for our
courage despite the trying times we live in, and determined to follow our
examples of learning and love.
DID YOU
KNOW?
A List of 5 Cool Things Everyone
Should Know About Muslims
1. Most Muslims don’t live in the Middle East. There are
about 1.5 billion Muslims in the world today, and you can find them anywhere
from Scotland to Australia, from China to South Africa, and of course, even
right here in Pocatello, Idaho.
2. Women who wear the hijab (veil) in the U.S. do so by
choice, and their clothes and conduct are supposed to help them emulate the
example of the purest woman: Mary, the mother of Jesus.
3. The Qu’ran includes the stories of Noah, Moses, Abraham,
Joseph of Egypt, and Jesus Christ. All are respected as prophets, and Mohammad
is considered the last of the prophets.
4. Muslims have no paid clergy. The local imam is a
volunteer (much like a Mormon bishop) and often has a family to take care of
and regular job to do on top of his religious duties.
5. The five pillars of Islam (somewhat similar to the 13th
articles of faith for Mormons) are:
·
Prayer (5 times every day)
·
Tithing/Donations (to provide for the poor and
needy)
·
Fasting (to sanctify the body and increase one’s
ability to submit to God)
·
Hajj (a pilgrimage to Mecca, the site where
Muslims believe that Abraham almost sacrificed his son)
·
Testimony (to become Muslim, a person simply has
to state their testimony of two things: There is no other god but God, and
Mohammad is His prophet)
