British Muslims Chrisitian Conservatives

I attended a lecture last night given by Mufti Mohammed Ibn Adam Al-Kathari at the University of York entitled "Misconceptions about Islam". I had been musing for some time about Islam and its position in the UK and I must say I cannot believe the level of liberal suspicion and even anger aimed at Muslims in this country. As a Christian and a Tory I was unsure what to expect, but I acutally found myself identifying far more closely with my fellow believers in the one true God than with the university students who call themselves "liberal".


I was particularly touched by the sung prayer offered at the beginning of the lecture. It was beautifully haunting, melancholy and yet joyful at the same time. I was struck strongly by how powerful the divine is. How we can feel the touch of God even through a language we do not understand.


Muslim hospitality, I believe, has an exemplary reputation, with cultural requirements to ensure the well-being of guests. We were treated like friends, welcomed by children giving flowers and sent on our way with friendly chatter and cake. Al-Kathari was open and honest with his audience, encouraging challenging questions. His manner may not have been quite what the English would expect, a little on the passionate side, but he was polite and attentive to questioners even under pressure.


What shocked me though was the reaction of some of the audience. Many were Muslim, but a good majority were not. One particular questioner was particularly offensive and unreasonable. The issue of homophobia was raised, since Al-Kathari has been accused of such comments. From a Christian perspective it made perfect sense that a Muslim, or anyone of faith, could see homosexual activity as sinful. This alone does not make an individual homophobic. It is one thing to think in your heart that someone is acting in a sinful way and quite another to publicly make known your hatred of their sexual activity. These liberals seem to forget that clear division we have in this country between the public and the private. Men's souls are known and kept only by them. What we think, how we use our minds, after all, is the only true freedom we have.


To refuse to understand how a person of faith would want not to harm a person who is homosexual, or indeed, who has committed a crime, but instead how they would want to offer their love and to help bring that person back to the true path, is itself an anti-liberal act. For are we not all called to try to understand our fellow beings?


Al-Kathari's lecture itself was most interesting, enlightening to those who were willing to truly listen. I had not realised the true beliefs of Muslims in this country, and how they differ so much from those Muslims who live in so-called "Islamic states". Al-Kathari himself condemns the actions of Muslims like the Taleban in these countries, who go against true Islam. A scholar of law, he explained that British Muslims wish only to live their faith as best they can under the laws of this country. No desire for shari'a law in the UK, but instead simply to be allowed to worship freely. The misconception that Muslims would like to see adulterers stoned and thiefs' limbs chopped off was blown out of the water. Like Christians, Muslims have a duty to their fellow believers, a duty to act as true friends and to try to help those who fall. He believes, as do I, that as a believer, we must love the most those who sin. And there is little which can be called more spiritual than love.

A religion of peace

The final part of Islam Awareness week, a lecture by Abu Muntasir, Chaplain for University Campus Suffolk in Ipswich, my hometown. And how much better it would have been for those critics at York to have attended this talk. How much they could have learnt about the true nature of Islam in this country. Muntasir gave an open, enlightening and welcoming introduction to some of the key elements of Islam, and again I was struck by the clear similarities between Christianity and Islam.


Peace and neighbourly love, so often associated with Christianity, are also key tenets of Islam. We are all called to love our neighbours, regardless of their religion, or lack of religion. I had not realised that despite charity being a core part of the Islamic faith, most of the aid given by British Muslims is sent abroad to help their brothers and sisters in the wider world. We Christians in this country have a firm sense of charity starting at home, and while international aid programs certainly receive plenty of coverage, the focus is for the most part on the local. Muntasir challenged his fellow Muslims to show love and give help to all around them, regardless of their religion, or indeed lack of religion. All too often we regard Muslims as holding themselves apart, as seeking to keep themselves away from us lesser mortals.


This certainly seems to be the opinion of those who accept the anti-Muslim propaganda and ignorance that saturates our society. The intolerance of those students at York who objected to Al-Kathari's right to speak is a clear symptom of this lack of understanding. If only those who seek to condemn, those who seek to safeguard "decency" were to make the effort to seek out the truth. As Muntasir made clear, Islam is a religion of peace, while even the most thick-skinned listener should have come away from Al-Kathari's lecture seeing that Muslims chose to live the way they do, and do so while submitting to the laws of the country in which they reside. There is a world of difference between believing something privately and demanding all around you believe and submit to the same laws and beliefs.


In all Muntasir really illuminated the spirituality of Islam, the grace and beauty of religion which is so often obscured by the defensive facade British Muslims feel they must construct in the face of such hostility. They feel different, isolated, and so need to keep their distance. And it is a great shame, for Islam has much to offer the world in terms of spiritual peace and brothership. But there is hope in the fact that there are those like Muntasir who are prepared to stand up for their faith and to speak words of peace and openness with non-Muslims. We all have much to learn about each other.

Drinking the Ouse

When I begin to write I usually do not have a clear idea of what I will produce, the work seems to reside within somewhere, needing me only to begin typing to pour itself out through my fingers. And so we find the first posts of this blog display a curious, yet unintentional, pro-Islamic stance. I had never considered myself a raving fan of Islam, but my curiosity drives me to seek out the best, the most unusual in everything others condemn.

And so to something new. This evening I was walking down by the river when I had a series of moments. I often have these moments, times when something poetic or spiritual, something hard to define, strikes my soul, usually an image, a scene. The river was quiet, silent in the dark of the night, the deep brown-black gloss of the water glimmering with the evenly spaced orange glowing spheres floating on its surface, reflections of the street lights lining the river path. Its beauty in the silence was the first to strike me. So empty, so at peace, in the cold and dark and muddiness of February. Winter's grip, still strong, kept all but a few locals returning home away.

I walked, passed by a couple of girls emanating music, hip hop, as if it came from within them. I listened as it continued, distant, yet distinct, as they crossed the bridge and continued along the opposite bank. I walked down to the waters edge, drawn close by the lights, the colours of the bridge changing in their mirror, red, pink, purple, and so on. Looking into the depths I drank in the light and watched the river live. Things, indistinct at first, thronged its surface. A thing, like a fish skeleton picked clean at first, until I discerned the darker parts of the shoe,  disguised by the dark of the river. struck by its strangeness I lingered, watching. More objects - floating bottles, discarded wrappers like little boats. A whole flotilla of human detritus. 

And then a friend. A tiny black cat trying to climb my legs as I turned. A strange encounter indeed. I wondered where he came from. A curious thing about cats, you can never tell how far they have come. They are always strangers, whether they live next door, or several miles away. Perhaps that is why I feel so comforted by them. A fellow stranger in the night.

All these images, strange but in some way powerful, distinct. As if the river had some essence of its own. Something of the Creator lingering on in the world entrusted to us. To keep watch, to succour us in our time of spiritual need perhaps. For we all need to seek beauty to feed the soul from time to time.