Operationalizing Mercy: The Inner Struggle

“God is not merciful to one who is not merciful to people.” Hadith

Just this past week I was asked to describe my work as a peacemaker to a group of fellow professors and university administrators from around the nation. I found the answer in one line: “Operationalizing mercy in human interaction.” I find that when I express my work as a peacemaker it is often captured in ways that make the assumption of the ‘soft’ skills of negotiating directly or as a third party neutral. Peacemaking is seen as only a means within itself and not as a values based modality for engaging with one’s self and others. As I continue to explore the dimensions of peacemaking and peacebuilding in my teaching and learning, three major themes emerged in my consideration of this topic.

1) Peacemaking as an act of spiritual devotion: Time and again I am reminded by many Muslim teachings (and Christian, Jewish, Buddhist, Jain, Hindu, the list goes on) of how connected the state of relations with others can be directly proportionate with one’s relationship with the Divine. The way we treat our companions in life is a barometer for one’s relationship with God. The quality of our sound ethical, moral and collegial interaction with others is not peripheral to an exercise of a religious purpose in life. It is central. It is the way to actualize the mercy that Prophet Muhammad (upon him be peace) was sent as a mercy to humankind. To find ways to emulate mercy to practice it daily, with discipline and with the wide range of humanity seals our hearts in devotion to God in a way that brings to light the beauty of daily prayers. We embody mercy in ways so subtle when it becomes a form of our piety both inwardly and outwardly that we wear it as a garment that shrouds and protects us and those around us from hurt, arrogance, greed and pain.

2. Peacemaking as an intellectual pursuit: It is not an easy task to pursue peacebuilding as one’s intellectual and scholarly enterprise. The need to be critical is a major task for a scholar. It is also one that is spiritually fulfilling and allows one to utilize our ‘aql or reason. At the very same time, the ethics of engagement for a peacebuilder cannot separate the ways and means of pursuing peace. When I am engaged in peacebuilding activity both in praxis and research, should not my own methods of conversations both in text and in person with others exemplify a peacemaking cognitive structure and way of thinking as well as being? It takes constant struggle against the internal ego-inflammatory drugs of public recognition to hold tight to a rope of humility. It takes companions who push one down into the reflective process of a Muslim brother or sister as a mirror. In the end, I think it makes for better scholarship if one finds ways to be critical of the merits of another’s argument and not a demonizer solely of someone’s character.

3. Peacemaking as an internal pursuit. I was reflecting too on the helpful movement towards practice based pedagogy in many peacebuilding curricula. However, spiritual formation is often compartmentalized into a different category of instruction or taxonomy of knowledge. The practice of peacemaking emanates from the struggle of the torrent of the territory of the heart. It is tempered daily from interaction with irritation of humanity and what others pose to inner fluidity of mercy and its external manifestation in action, though, words and deeds. Discipline of our hands begins with discipline of thought, heart and mind. Violence in my thoughts and feelings can creep its way into my actions and the often unaccounted for, verbal abuse that is not seen by many as a form of violence. How does one find mentors in the interior, the exterior, the deeper elements of forming a peacebuilding self narrative and community practice? Do you have one person or a group who mentors you through all of these facets of peacemaking? Do you have a community of practice and learning you draw from? Who keeps you challenged, nurtured and also pushes your practice and research forward? Who dissents with you and gives you a chance to practice an ethics of disagreement? So, I continue to think of ways to operationalize mercy, and ask for your help in challenging me to do so.

The Crying of an Ant: Finding a Theory of Change

Qur’an 27:18: Till, when they came upon a valley [full] of ants, an ant exclaimed: “O you ants! Get into your dwellings, lest Solomon and his hosts crush you without [even] being aware [of you]!” - 27:19: Thereupon [Solomon] smiled joyously at her words, and said: “O my Sustainer! Inspire me so that I may forever be grateful for those blessings of Thine with which Thou hast graced me and my parents, and that I may do what is right [in a manner] that will please Thee; and include me, by Thy grace, among Thy righteous servants!” -

This story of the ants and Prophet Sulaiman (Solomon) is often taught to young Muslim children. The story goes on with Prophet Sulaiman hearing the cries of the chief of ants and stopping his army so that the ants may peacefully go along on with their work. Some commentaries include a further conversation between the chief of ants and the Prophet Sulaiman. I am studying this story with my five year old son and as we delved into it and the lessons one might learn as a child, I thought too about the morals I might derive from the story as an adult.

The Voice of One Matters

The ant was a voice that Prophet Sulaiman heard and in his sole capacity the ant saved the very fate of his people. To speak when harm may come into our lives and to speak even if a greater force may jump upon us can change courses of histories. Silence becomes complicity in so many ways when a truth of human rights is being systematically violated or pounced upon.

The narrative of the singular has great power not only because of the person, but because of the truth it tells of the story of a people as well. I pray daily for that courage, to tell the truth and speak it even if I might get stepped on. Perhaps even more telling will be whether I have the courage to tell the truth of other communities’ suffering in addition to my own and bear witness to justice for my own and for those who are strangers to me.

Listening as a Leader: The Voice of Ants

Prophet Sulaiman was rendered a specific gift of understanding the language of animals. He made a decision to change his course because he could hear the smallest creatures alive in that moment. However I think often we forget that the lesson is also that he HEARD and he LISTENED.

Is a just leader’s greatest achievement not his/her capacity to hear those who no one else listens to? To do so means to seek out those words, to go into the homes of people who are left out of formal processes, to go humbly into a place that has no material benefit for a person and listen to those stories. More importantly, to hear those stories and to adjust our ways of being and organizing around concerns that includes the influence of those who have no other outlets. It takes practice, it takes perseverance and perhaps most of all it takes time.

So, I pray for this too, to learn to be slower in my gait, in my entry into people’s lives and to seek out actively the voices that are not at the table.

The World Around Us: Remembering Creation beyond Humans

 Perhaps one of the most salient points of this story is that Prophet Sulaiman listened to the Earth herself. The creatures who tread on the soil exclaimed their fear and he listened. As we think about justice on this Earth, we must remember we are not her sole inhabitants and that so we hold a community within this ecosystem we are a part of. Prophet Sulaiman was given the gift of hearing and listening. Perhaps for us all, we need to cultivate the capacity to see the signs of the Earth’s distress and the stress we create for the many of Allah’s creatures that roam these lands, seas and air. So think of justice not just for our human race, but for all who might be affected. So I pray for this awareness, this consciousness and this gift to hear the cries of all creatures, both great and small.

Walking in the Footsteps of Mary

As I walked into the “House of Mary” http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_of_the_Virgin_Mary
in Turkey, our guide said, “As many Muslims as Christians come to visit this last home of Sayyidah Maryam (form of respectful way to refer to Mary, Mother of Jesus). The veracity of the historical claims of whether this was her home continue to be debated, but the relevance of her role in Muslim narratives continues to inform my community, and is also cherished by those of us who are mothers.

A Mother’s Heart
The verses of Surah Maryam in the Qur’an are oft recited throughout the history of Muslims and at times had great significance. Some scholars point to the bridge that these verses helped to build between the Muslims who were fleeing persecution and the Christian Abyssinian Negus (king) who gave these early Muslims asylum and safety in his Christian country.Beyond the way that the Jesus (or Prophet Esa, upon him be peace is referred to in Arabic and by Muslims) figures into Muslim religious history, so too does his mother hold a place of significance.
Sayiddah Maryam and the Birth Process
For many of my friends who are Muslim and seeking ways to find our guidance in being mothers, we turn to the story of Maryam, Surah (xix) in the Qur’an time and again. For many who are first time mothers, I share with them these verses from the moment they concieve, to remind them of special relationship she had while alone and in the throes of childbirth. As any woman might, she yells in agony (Surah Maryam, Verse 23) of such great pain that that “would that I had been a thing forgotten,” before this moment that was of great psychological and physical trial.

In this very moment, Allah (God) heard her cries and responds with providing her comfort through “Shake towards thyself, the trunk of the palm tree, it will fall fresh ripe dates upon thee, So eat, and cool thine eye.” (Verse, 25-26). A mother’s cries do not go unheeded and she is gifted through his intervention with comfort and love that a Creator provides the Created.

In some parts of the Muslim world, there is even an herb used during childbirth and is referred to as Sayyidah Maryam’s herb. Her story of birth is not forgotten, the miracle is not only the virgin birth but also the solace and beauty provided in the process of the birth by her plea for help and the Divine response. For any of us as mothers, this very moment of childbirth is a form of worship to our Creator and we call upon Allah for comfort.

The Beloved Esa (upon him be Peace)
Prophet Esa too is one who loves his mother, amongst his signs of piety is that he said, “God had made me kind to my mother and not overbearing or miserable.” (Verse 32). As the mother of a son, I ponder often these verses and think of the incredible power a mother’s love has, I also think of the strength of Sayyidah Maryam to be publicly exposed and to stand so strong to all the claims against her as a single mother that might have ensued.

I think also of the love that her son exhibited to her, and that his very goodness as a prophet also emanated from a deep relationship with his mother and a recognition of her own piety. So while of course, Christians and Muslims will forever hold differences on the role of Esa, upon him be peace as a prophet or a Son of God. There will not be agreement on this point, nor would I push for one.

This time of year, I take a moment to think also of the sacrifices of Sayyida Maryam and her strength, her grace, her ability to speak truth, and her son’s reciprocal respect and love. I pray for this fortitude and think too of how to raise a son that is kind to his mother, that speaks in defense of her and knows that the love we share is one that can guide us both to be better humans as we serve a Divine mandate to be kind to all who walk upon this earth, especially those who are cast out and left with no help but the love of a stranger.

Sayyida Maryam’s isolation in the time that most women in the world would be surrounded by loved ones reminds us not to judge others too quickly, to hear the full story of anyone who is feeling cast out and to remember that there is a place to reach out to those who might have a purpose that is far greater for the common good than we might have imagined.

Storytelling to Restore the Sacred in Our Lives

I was recently offering a workshop to a group of Muslim educators from all types of ethnic, racial and community backgrounds. One of my points in the training on conflict resolution was the importance of story telling,the many ways that stories are formed, told and uttered in different cultural contexts. Sometimes, the content of the story is less important that the WAY we tell the story. We talked about how to listen to the form of the story being told, its inherent design logic, and what we learn about a person and her community from the way she chooses to tell her story especially in times of conflict. For it is in conflict times that we resort to what is most familiar and sacred to us all.

For years, I have had the honor of being a peacemaker, a mediator who listens to people’s stories. I jokingly told a colleague that I could tell what they were thinking even as they were telling their story just by the way they sat, how their hands moved, whether they looked away at certain points or by what they also did not say. It is important to hear a story being told as a fully embodied experience. The words, the way they are arranged, the flow of the narrative, its resonance with body language give you a more complete vision and experience of the story and insights into the storyteller.

So I thought about the ways stories play into my work, into my life and into my recovery of the sacred capacity of humans to build peace with each other. Some thoughts:

Storytelling as Spiritual/Cultural Recovery:

For me, I was often told a story of a young man in Kashmir who misbehaved and the ramifications of his life style on his own family. My mother would quietly tell these stories when she found us misbehaving and the stories contained lessons not just for the simple act we were doing, but to have us think and ponder and reflect. In many communities, stories are told to socialize children and families into patterns and to build bonds by understanding the deep web of relationships we both emanate from and the histories of our communities.

My mother was telling me the about the culture of our community. We were a generation interrupted, disrupted through immigration from the bonds of family and her stories introduced the Kashmiri sensibilities that were passed from generations in her family of those who were spiritual guides and leaders. In essence we has lost modalities of spiritual care and support systems for counseling that were built into our social and familial systems.

I was gathering little pieces and pictures of the threads that wove me into the fabric of families that had cultivated a spiritual path of sharing common stories that exhibited both good adab (etiquette) and deep kinship bonds. Even the remnants I carry with me, I pass on to my children in telling them the stories I can remember and continuing in small ways the beauty of the ancestors.

What if we had ways to capture those stories in more depth for those who suffer from this disruption? To restore and adapt spiritual care models in our community within this new context? How does connecting with this cultural past tell us who we are now and give us clues into our everyday existence that could be easily explained by these clues from our past? What beauties have been lost and how do our constructions of the past and disconnections lend a shallow understanding of our present? What lessons are there to learn, what difficult and painful pasts have been lost and obscured? How might this explain the ways people act trauma out now in their lives?

Storytelling as Cognitive Development

The Muslim community is one that is blessed with the command to ponder, to reflect to question and to explore the natural world for stories that teach us ways to grow both as human beings and to relate to our intricate ecosystem. The purpose for storytelling in in our scriptures is:

Thus clearly do We spell out these messages unto people who think! Qur’an (10:24)

Storytelling is not only a form of developing the heart, it is a tool to sharpen our minds. When I use storytelling with children for conflict resolution purposes, we talk about the lessons of each person in the narrative.

We also explore the inner intellectual life of the characters within the narrative they are either telling me or we are reading together. For young children this is the beginning of perspective taking and understanding and cultivating empathy. I’ve written about that topic more extensively: http://muslimvoices.org/virtues-engaging-perspective/

We often forget that empathy is a learned skill. It is also one that is relate to the capacity of a child to language their anger and their pain. Early childhood psychologists point out that physical violence can actually decrease to the degree we can help young children articulate their anger, their pain and eventually find verbal tools to negotiate through it instead of acting out physically.

So as I work with young children, I begin to ask them not just about the emotions of the individuals in the narrative they are telling me or we are reading, but also about the inner intellectual lives of the characters in their stories. What does it take to get in the heads of the characters to understand what caused the conflict? What are the consequences of actions? What are the effects of choices? How might you have done it differently? What are the resources available in these situations? What would you do if you were in the character’s head? What words hurt? What words help? How does it help or not help to share our stories? How is each character describing this conflict? What words are they using? What ideas for solutions do they have? Are they sharing their solution ideas? What ideas for solutions do you have? What do we do when we have different ideas for solutions? What is it like to live with people who have ideas different from you? Can you find a way to live with people whose ideas are different than yours, what does that look like everyday?

Building empathy through storytelling means developing and cultivating the tools for patience and active listening. Not only does storytelling have the potential to heal the person who tells the story, it can heal the listener who by learning how to see the world from another perspective but also gains insights into new ways to solve problems.

Dr. King and his Legacy of Excellence

I was explaining a nearly 20 year professional trajectory to my younger brother…from Muslim high school student activist to now a university professor. How does that come to be that each step seems to undulate without connection to someone who lives outside this life? I remember one my students asking me last semester, is it hard for you to be Muslim and believe in non violence?

What ties this all together is my faith. Simply put, it is my spiritual journey as a Muslim that always threaded into my devotion to peaceful resolution of conflicts. It is from the words uttered from my mother growing up to use each limb for improving the lives of others. It finds itself into my constant questioning and obsession with seeking to find ways to make the world a little safer for others. It comes from my father’s insistence that we recognize there is no monopoly on suffering, my pain is not up the rung in the ladder from your pain.

Each professional step can become a deeper way of exploring how to build peace. “Painstaking excellence,” as the teacher Dr. King tells us, how can we develop that in our work at every turn? It means pushing ourselves to understand the latest theories of management, of how to maintain institutions that emanate from religious foundations with transparency, with humane ways of treating our own employees.

Service as Excellence

Some of my students wonder why I integrate social science research, group dynamics, cutting edge management and conflict resolution theory in my instruction at a seminary. The reason is this: We cannot expect LESS from religious leaders and institutions. We should expect MORE and so it behooves someone studying to be a religious leader to be aware of the many worlds that inform leadership and management to be a well rounded leader who is conversant not just in the traditional texts but also in the ways that build effective, efficient, just and well operating organizations. We need to operationalize justice and transparency  in the functioning of our organizations.

The way we run our institutions reflects on how we relate to our Lord. If we are arrogant and oppressive, then our hearts have not integrated the  humility necessary to be in relationship with each other as well. There is a joy in serving, but we cannot be self righteous in that delivery of services. I remember how often I would think, but just doing good is enough. It is doing good, in an excellent manner is what Dr. King asks us to strive for. Robert Fuller outlines the reasons that many younger people have left organized religious communities, it is often not theological differences but the conflict and pettiness of the fighting within congregations that cause disillusionment.

This day, commemorating Dr. King, I am thinking exactly of how to reinsert the dignity of humanity into my work product and into the process I use to serve my community and all communities.

Meditations on the Braying of a Donkey:Engaging Softly in the Virtual World

“And be moderate (or show no insolence) in your walking, and lower your voice. Verily, the harshest of all voices is the voice (braying) of the donkey.” Holy Qur’an 31:19

I have been busy tracking twitter exhanges for an upcoming book chapter on the role of social media in spiritual formation. I discovered beautiful instances and moments of connection and have been moved by the capacity of people to have deep and spiritually fulfilling conversations with one another. One aspect that fascinates me as a Muslim who is always concerned with accountabilty of my speech, was whether I have a higher or lesser duty to civility when on-line?

Thin Relationships
Much has been written about thin relationships online (see Umair Haque’s smart piece:
http://blogs.hbr.org/haque/2010/03/the_social_media_bubble.html). While I was not surprised that people may engage in ways that don’t replicate face-to-face interactions I was struck by how the virtual reality we occupy is shaped by our ethics of engagement.

The Qur’an addresses the loudness of our voice and the arrogant manner of our walk as markers for how not to act in person. How much of this should translate into online relationships or our digital footprint?

Speaking Softly
For me, my way of being online is subjected to the same internal spiritual reflection, not just because others see me but also because it is a religious obligation to speak softly, to walk in this virtual world with the least insolence possible. This mode of communication does not promote humility, the exponential inflation of social engagement processes amplifies the nafs (soul) in ways that are not always in concert with the intention of curbing the ego.

So, I always check that niyah (intention) with each keystroke.

Some questions I go through consistently and constantly:
What is the purpose of a particular set of communications?
How does my own self worth stay independent of the “likes” that are almost demanded by social media strategies?
How can the words I place in this now mainstream space affect others?
Am I helping to build my character and the character of others, or am I harming myself or others?
Will this post burn bridges or build them between my community members and between my community and others?
What is the tenor and tone of my text? Would I say such a thing if I was face-to-face with that person?

One need not sacrifice critical thinking or debate, but the conversations then need to be about conflicting ideas, not about the attacks against an individual’s character.

So I attempt to think boldly, tread softly and type thoughtfully.

The points of light: Healing in a Multi-faith World

Recently, I was part of a large academic conference on religion. I thoroughly enjoyed discussing and dissecting nuanced points of contention between me and my colleagues. However, there is one incident, ancillary to the conference that reminded me of why I engage in work with people from other traditions.

Spiritual Journeys of Healing

Unexpectedly, a former colleague texted me to tell me that he and his wife were attending a gang intervention conference in the same city as the conference I was attending. We continue to work together on issues of juvenile justice. He is a practitioner of indigenous spirituality that grows out of his family and community heritage.  Both of us have been mentored by some of the great gang interventionists in the country, some of whom were at the conference and are Catholic. At the conference, we were greeted by a young Jewish man who is a successful professional in the entertainment industry and mentors young men who are just out of prison. Along with us an agnostic mutual friend who does wonderful philanthropic work joined our gathering. I spent a long time speaking with a young man who had just come out of prison.

He told me stories of how for him, religion had brought great beauty into his cell. He quoted teachings from Islam, Christianity, Buddhism and Judaism. For him his journey was day by day, it was not driven by these faith traditions but was informed by the calling that life needs a moral and ethical center in his own words. He called himself a work in progress, seeking to develop a soul that increased his ability for kindness and his capacity to respect himself and others, constantly and consistently.  I spoke of my Muslim daily life, the constant struggle I have to exemplify excellence, ihsan, in my worship to Allah and in my words, thoughts, deeds and even hopes for fellow humans.

So this motley interfaith gathering of people of the vast tapestry of faith joined in one goal: To see the youth that were coming back into the wider world be ready for that transition and to help them in the ways they themselves articulated.

What was important for me was that we gave the space for different approaches to faith to speak. In one of my lectures at the conference I mentioned, I talked of a radical empathy that grows out of inserting ourselves into the narratives of other human beings. That we make the effort to listen so deeply, in such an engaged way that for a moment we can see the world from their eyes without losing our own integrity of belief or personhood. We can then step out of their story and appreciate our own even more with the added knowledge we’ve gained though our generous listening of another.  I argued vehemently against a quest for sameness of our stories; against finding commonality so that we develop only episodic empathy: That I can tolerate you so long as you act like I do.  I think it is time to let dissent, difference and deeply uncomfortable conversations that push us all to learn more about ourselves and others.

For me, I come unabashedly Muslim into this setting and my friends, deeply committed to their own paths. There was no pressure to find one common story that encompassed each other. There was in fact, probably no common ground, what we did have was common respect for each other and a belief that to make the world better, we must do it with each other and not against each other.

Carrying on that Ramadan Spirit: Humility as a Daily Practice

“And turn not your face away from men with pride, nor walk in insolence through the earth. Verily, Allah likes not each arrogant boaster.” Qur’an,31: 18 (Surah Luqman)

As Ramadan draws to a close, I am pondering very much the practice of humility. This verse of the Qur’an emphasizes that humility is not an abstract concept. It should find its way in the way we express ourselves through body language with others, in the way we walk upon the Earth and in the way we feel about others. Ramadan bridged the gap between me and others through the collective practice of fasting, extra prayer and ceasing of backbiting and hurtful language. How does one carry that spirit throughout the year? Perhaps one answer is in the daily, constant, reflective practices that support humility.

In Body Language

The very way we move our face in response to others can show whether we are listening to them and honoring them. When Prophet Muhammad (upon him be peace) was called by others, it was said he moved his whole body towards them. He gave them the dignity of his full face. I wonder how many times we don’t turn around, we don’t give someone the attention as a deep listener? Do we not realize this denies our speaking companion their full humanity?

Even puffing our cheeks, literally, not just figuratively is an insulting act upon another. Sometimes our words can be sweet, and praising of our speaking companion, but our body language tells another story, it can cut others down. It may vary from context to context how we display lack of respect in our body language, in the way we express it. Keep in mind how disrespect and respect are manifested in your own cultural context and consider how to cultivate humility in that way. Also being sensitive to the contexts of other people and honoring their modes of communication also increases our capacity to be respectful of others.

In the way we walk on earth

The Earth is itself God’s Creation. How we walk upon her soil tells much about the person we are. Do we tread on her lightly? Do we walk with pride into a room and project alienation to others? How does our gait signify that humility is infused even in the way we step? Do we stomp in anger away from our speaking companion? All of these practices can either support humility or defy it. Think deeply about the way we walk leads us to consider how we might treat the Earth in general. This Earth is a gift for us and all its inhabitants. If we are to even be humble in that role, we walk with a soft step. In all our actions in relation to our collective home, perhaps we might consider what effect we have on our home in more substantive ways as well?

Does our arrogance cause us to abuse the Earth? If we are to be deliberate even about how we walk on Earth, then perhaps we need to consider all our ways we engage with the Earth and how to nurture a relationship with Creation that is also based on humility.

Boasting

I am struggling with this practice some days. Our internet culture calls us to be spin doctors of the highest degree. So, thinking about this, perhaps the place to start is an ethics of representation? That at least what we project is based on truth and not on lies or fabrication? Our words can pump our egos into directions that cause the heart to lose sight of the truth of our own selves.

The meta-self feeds its own ego and the ego of others who boast. It becomes a competition of who might outdo the other in distorting the truth. For this, the intention of our actions is important to keep in mind (derived from a Hadith). The niyah (intention) of good acts cannot be to impress others, it then builds arrogance. I thought about this in the interfaith context, recently while lecturing at a mosque on this, I mentioned that we cannot do interfaith work just to promote a positive image of ourselves. Many in the audience resonated with this and later I discussed this topic with brothers and sisters from whom I learned a great deal. What are the legitimate reasons for engaging in interfaith conversations based on our own traditions? What are the values and ethics that call us to and guide us in interfaith conversations? Even if the end goal of an act is good, if the intention is only for boasting, the act may destroy the soul of the person who performs it.

May Allah (God) grant us all mercy, and forgive us since indeed God is the best forgiver. Eid Kareem, Insha’Allah to all!