Montclair Presbyterian Church

On Tuesday, a tweet washed up over the digital transom of the slow and somewhat unevenly-keeled rowboat that is my presence on social media–a platform where (it seems to me) everyone else is tooling around on the electronic equivalent of speedboats while I pull on oars that would be happier in an era of print media.

But at any rate, here’s what the tweet said:

@revbennyd: How to free #Islam from #extremism?

Attached to the tweet was a link to a series of articles that gave a few suggestions for how to free Islam from Extremism, most of which seemed sort of unrealistic. It is, however, a fair question and I tweeted back a few of my ideas, but the problem with Twitter is that it’s hard to have a coherent conversation at 140 keystrokes a pop. How convenient, then, that I was trying to figure out what to write for Contact when the question popped up on my iPad’s screen. So here–in more than 140 keystrokes–is how I’d like to answer the question of how Islam can be freed from extremism:

Islam doesn’t need to be freed from extremism; non-Muslims in the West need to be freed from our fear of Islam.

The numbers on this are clear. If we assume that the only extremists of immediate concern are actively violent extremists, then we’re really only talking about fewer than one hundredth of one percent of Muslims worldwide. Now, violent Muslims have the capacity to wreak great havoc, and so we probably should be worried about them, but just because they are dangerous doesn’t mean they define the rest of Islam or that Islam needs to be rid of them. Their tiny numbers relative to the rest of Islam suggest that they are such an anomaly that Islam is already rid of them.

If non-Muslims are going to be freed from our fear of Islam, then we need to listen more to the voices of non-violent, non-extremist Muslims, which is to say that we need to start listening to a subset of Muslims that is so large it is pretty much the entire population of Islam.

If non-Muslims are going to be freed from our fear of Muslims, we also need to demand a measure of accountability from our media and from Media-savvy politicians who distort Islam and misconstrue Muslims, with the willing compliance of the American public. We, who are the public, need to care and need to demand peaceable accuracy rather than fearful deception from the heads that talk at us from the glowing screens that capture our attention and speak to our souls.

Now you may be asking what any of this has to do with Advent or Christmas (’tis the season, after all), and while this really is more of a year-round, all-weather kind of message, still this is the time of year when we wait hopefully for a light that shines in the darkness, a light which no darkness can overcome. This is the light of Christ, which illuminates many things, including (we may hope), our prejudices and fears.

My the light of the Christ Child come to us and so fill our lives with hope that we will have courage to be freed from our fears and live in peace with all God’s children, including those who pray with their eyes and ears inclined toward Mecca.

Peace,
Ben

Friends,
As I was fighting writer’s block, looking for inspiration for this week’s contact piece, I came across the news that a certain prominent American politician had called for laws banning all Muslims from immigrating to the United States.

Now, because this is a church publication I am not allowed to name said politician, lest by my criticism of him, we lose our tax-exempt status, so I’ll just say this is a politician whose likes to employ superlative adjectives, a man who claims expertise in building beautiful walls, and whose name—though I cannot say or write it—rhymes with “dump.” This Mr. Dump has claimed on a couple of occasions that he is a Presbyterian, and while I am not in any position to judge the man’s fidelity to Presbyterian doctrine, I will point out the following:

1. Immigrant bullying is not something you’d expect out of a good Presbyterian, especially in a season dedicated to the anticipation of the birth of a Child who, early in life, was a refugee;
2. A Presbyterian familiar with the denomination will know that Presbyterians—from Donadina Cameron a century ago to Primera Iglesia Hispana in Oakland today—long have supported immigrants, especially immigrant refugees; and
3. If Mr. Dump really wants to know what Presbyterians think of welcoming Muslim refugees, I suggest he take a look at the following photo, which I found on the Presbyterian Church (USA)’s official Twitter feed.

This photo was taken in response to the Governor of Maryland’s decision to add his name to the list of Governors seeking a ban on Syrian refugees, and I believe it reflects a true Presbyterian spirit, especially in the season of Advent, when the Christ comes first (at least in Matthew’s telling of the story) to foreigners.

If you run into Mr. Dump, please teach him what it means to be a good Presbyterian.

Meanwhile, I pray you may have a blessed Advent.
Salaam, Ben

Now it’s my turn to say something about the “War on Christmas,” and by this I’m not referencing the use of spiritually-neutral seasonal greetings such as “Happy Holidays” (I’m content anytime anyone says anything nice to me), and this isn’t a rant against the commercialization of the season (now that Thanksgiving has come and gone I’m thrilled to see shops and streets decked with boughs of holly; besides I love getting and giving gifts as much as the next guy). Nor is this a complaint about all the ways Santa has replaced Jesus (every society needs its mythical beings, its saints and avatars and, for better or for worse, we’re stuck with Santa; besides I’m kind of glad our society has trivialized Saint Nicholas and spared Jesus); and with one exception I’m not going to protest secular popular songs, but that one musical exception will be the focus of my rhetorical wrath for the next few paragraphs.

I am pained every time I hear the commonly-used lyric modification of the holiday classic, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” When the song first appeared in the 1944 movie “Meet Me In Saint Louis,” it was a song of hope sung in a moment of sadness. A family was leaving their community and circle of friends St. Louis to move to New York, and the sadness of that parting resonated with the millions of Americans who had experienced separations–both temporary and permanent–that had been caused by World War II.

But after World War II, the lyrics seemed too dark. Frank Sinatra insisted on a new set of verses for his 1957 album “A Jolly Christmas” and so the song that once longed for a better tomorrow, became a celebration of a happy now.

For example, in the movie, Judy Garland sings:
Someday soon we all will be together if the fates allow
Until then we’ll just have to muddle through somehow

And then Frank Sinatra insisted on:
From now on we all will be together if the fates allow
Hang a shining star upon the highest bough

And Sinatra’s version has dominated recordings of the song ever since, which is a shame. The joy of Christmas is a great gift of grace, and part of what makes the happiness of this season so wonderful is that it is complex. It doesn’t just celebrate today (after all today isn’t always so great), it hopes for a better tomorrow. Light shines in the darkness of the night, but we cannot appreciate the light if we do not also become acquainted with the night.

The change of lyrics in “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” is typical of an American tendency to pretend everything is good and everyone is happy. This reflects a heartfelt and even healthy longing for things to be good, but that desire cannot ignore the reality that for many people and in many places, life is hard and sad. Light and comfort and hope are needed.

It is essential that churches be communities where people don’t have to pretend they are happy or that everything is going swimmingly. Advent is a season when we prepare for Christmas and anticipate the joy of Jesus’ arrival, but we do so as people waiting in darkness, acquainted with all of the ways we need to find healing, and all of the obstacles we yet shall overcome.

So dearly beloved, muddle through Advent and then have yourself a merry little Christmas. And here’s a link to the scene where Judy Garland sings the original version in Meet Me In St. Louis.

Peace,
Ben