I am currently in Cape Town South Africa at a Queer Muslim International Retreat. Next month I will go to Jakarta Indonesia for a workshop focused on the same agenda: reform in Muslim communities towards the lives of dignity for lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, transgender, Queer and Intersex Muslims. It has been a long road and the end of the struggle is nowhere in sight. Still, there are important developments worth noting.
I am the fifth of eight children. My brother, just older than me, is gay. Although we are both in our 60’s now, it was evident that his sexual orientation was not normative heterosexual from very early. My first nephew, son of my older sister is also gay. Now in his mid-40’s his was also not a question of lifestyle choice. I love these two men and always have. That did not mean I was devoid of homophobic tendencies and subtle acts of discrimination against queer people. I wasn’t against them, but I did not see why I, who lived as a straight heterosexual woman, should have to pay any attention to the particularities of their life struggle. It was their problem and I could ignore it. So I did.
I was never guilty of vicious acts – teasing, name calling or bullying; I just put it out of my mind. As a Muslim, I would come to encounter a much greater awareness how the convenience of sitting on the fence was inadvertently a tacit approval of gross homophobic violations and that all I believed about a Merciful and Compassionate Creator of Justice required me to support the struggles to establish that divine justice and cosmic harmony and beauty everywhere and for everyone. Continue reading “LGBTQI Muslims and International Movements for Empowerment by amina wadud”
The other day, someone on twitter said she would not allow ISIS (known as the Islamic State of the Levant) use the name of “her” religion. In fact, scholars in Egypt had proposed that they be called “the Separatist movement” and take the word “Islam” out of it. This question raised here is: what exactly is “Islamic” about what they are doing and how they are doing it?
I have contended for at least 2 decades that people use the word “Islam” anyway they want to make any point they want. More importantly, whoever has the power to assert their definition of the word “Islam” controls how it is used. I say the past 2 decades because I used to think I could somehow determine “pure” “Islam”—as opposed to cultural reflections, human imperfections, and intellectual genuflections. I came instead to see that everyone has a definition of Islam and whose definitions held sway was less a matter of epistemology and more a matter of power.
So, I followed one of my intellectual mentors and agreed that for any discourse about Islam, a definition had to be established, agreed upon, and then consistently maintained. He suggested that a simple criteria referent be applied based on Islam’s two primary sacred sources: the text of the Qur’an and the normative practices of the Prophet Muhammad, called sunnah. He juxtaposed these to “little traditions” in the multiple ways Muslims experience or live out their understandings of these two.
Part of the methodology of Islamic feminism and reformed Islamic thought has been to demonstrate a direct link to the two primary sources but with a different paradigm about key principles espoused there in- like justice, human dignity, and compassion. From that point forward, I tend to provide my definition of Islam, give evidence to support that definition from the primary sources and then elaborate how it would work in application to whatever issue is at hand. Continue reading “Muslim Separatists and The Idea of an “Islamic” State by amina wadud”
1. States Parties recognize that every child has the inherent right to life.
2. States Parties shall ensure to the maximum extent possible the survival and development of the child.
Article 37 States Parties shall ensure that:
(a) No child shall be subjected to torture or other cruel, inhuman or degrading treatment or punishment. Neither capital punishment nor life imprisonment without possibility of release shall be imposed for offences committed by persons below eighteen years of age;
(b) No child shall be deprived of his or her liberty unlawfully or arbitrarily. The arrest, detention or imprisonment of a child shall be in conformity with the law and shall be used only as a measure of last resort and for the shortest appropriate period of time;
(c) Every child deprived of liberty shall be treated with humanity and respect for the inherent dignity of the human person, and in a manner which takes into account the needs of persons of his or her age. In particular, every child deprived of liberty shall be separated from adults unless it is considered in the child’s best interest not to do so and shall have the right to maintain contact with his or her family through correspondence and visits, save in exceptional circumstances;
(d) Every child deprived of his or her liberty shall have the right to prompt access to legal and other appropriate assistance, as well as the right to challenge the legality of the deprivation of his or her liberty before a court or other competent, independent and impartial authority, and to a prompt decision on any such action.*
Islam has taught me so many things over the years. One lesson, in particular, plays in my head throughout the day as a constant and necessary reminder: My soul has rights over my ego. I still remember the first time I read that. Over the years, I have expanded it to include the idea that my body has rights over my mind, my mind has rights over my body, and even that my inner child (she’s six) has rights over me (the 12-year old me and the adult me).
I was crushingly self-critical and dealt with devastating self-loathing for many years, but learning how to be compassionate helped me to be much kinder to others, and eventually, to myself. I had not really thought about making myself a recipient of my own kindness and compassion before. It was so natural to judge that kid in me who just wanted a chocolate chip cookie, to jump in a dirty puddle, to stick my tongue out and make faces at other little kids, and all the other odd things I felt urges to do as an adult. Continue reading “Seeing the Humanity in the Inner Child by Jameelah X. Medina”
One of the first things a newly Muslim woman convert learns is that Islam makes people equal and the only thing that differentiates a believer from another believer is their level of piety. They also learn that Islam raises the honor of women to levels that no religion has done, that they, as Muslims, have rights, and they are encouraged to get marry since marriage is a half of the Din.
Why do it? Sit around a table with people who profess a faith tradition different from our own, drink coffee, nibble on snacks, and talk. What’s the point? No doubt the reasons vary depending on the particular people getting together. Nevertheless, there is the sense that if we “sit down together and talk together about our faiths,” we’ll “break down barriers,” and….then what? Do we think (or hope) that those on the other side of the table will eventually “come around?” Is conversion a goal? Or, perhaps we just want to become more “tolerant” of other faiths.
So, for example, if Muslims share facts with Christians about the history of Prophet Muhammad, the Sunni/Shi’a division, and Shari’a law, will that help Christians tolerate Muslims? Books on the history of religions abound. Yet, religion-based violence flares around our globe. Would learning about doctrinal beliefs–“truths” based on (usually male) interpretation of scriptural narrative–be helpful? Christians understand Jesus to be God incarnate. Muslims reject any doctrine that compromises the oneness of God. Now what? Are barriers broken down? Are we more tolerant? Continue reading “Putting Faith in Interfaith Dialogue by Esther Nelson”
The first blog I read about Ramadan this year was full of the usual self-righteous pontification that takes this occasion to remind people to do such and such at this or that level. Who is the target audience for such an approach, I wondered? It seemed to operate on the basic idea that Muslims will NOT do the right thing unless someone tells them to. Mostly, though I noticed the gloom and doom of it and I decided then to make my Ramadan focus on joy.
First a quick reminder about the basics: Throughout the 9th lunar month, Muslims are obliged to abstain from food, drink and sexual intercourse during the day. It goes on like this for 29-30 days. There are also points of difference about some details of the fast, like how we determine which day to start. Either we actually cite the new moon, go by advanced calculations of the new moon, or some combination of these two. This leads to healthy chaos at the beginning because no one knows when the first day will, be but must prepare in order to get in that pre-dawn meal, called suhur. I say, healthy chaos, not only because I’m a bit of an anarchist, but also because I like that no one has complete control about such an important decision. Continue reading “No Ramadan Gloom and Doom by amina wadud”
A few days ago I had the pleasure of giving a talk at the Secular Student Alliance Conference on how non-believing persons can work with Churches. Amidst the chaos of conferences–managing your time, deciding which talks to attend, and making sure you have enough water (it was a Burning Ring of Fire outside in Tempe, AZ)–I got to meet some pretty incredible secular women.
One of them was Heina Dadabhoy.
Heina speaking at SSA.
Former Muslim, blogger at Freethought Blogs, and overall bad-ass, Heina spoke about ways in which secular groups can create a more welcoming environment for ex-Muslims and Muslims beginning to doubt. Her talk, “Of Murtids and Muslims,” (a “murtid” is a public apostate) was not only about her experiences coming out as a secular humanist, but considered some of the absurd questions people ask her (and other ex-Muslims) about leaving Islam. “So did your parents try to honor kill you?” “Have you gone through FGM?” It was disturbingly humorous.
What I considered to be Heina’s main point, was that we should respect each others’ individual differences and not generalize and caricature all Muslims with the depictions of some. “Just because you read Ayaan Hirsi Ali’s book,” Heina notes, “does not make you an expert on Islam.” Heina made sure to emphasize the radical diversity that exists in Islam. She also spoke of the some of the issues that people go through when they leave Islam: How do I create a new identity when my old one was intricately tied up in my Muslim community, family, and culture? How do I navigate popular culture when I have missed a bunch of it? How do I find myself in this new secular world? Heina’s answers were refreshingly honest and insightful.
P.S. Aisha (one of Muhammed’s wives) should not simply be reduced to the young person Muhammed married; she was also a war leader, influential Muslim thinker, and someone who contributed greatly to early Islam. This is, of course, Heina’s insight.
Me and Heina at SSA
Another awesome secular woman I met, was Sarah Morehead.
Sarah. Photo from Apostacon.
Sarah is a former evangelical Southern Baptist, Executive Director of the “Recovering From Religion” project, and another overall bad-ass. She spoke on how to start up a Recovering From Religion group on your campus. Here is a blurb about Recovering From Religion,
“If you are one of the many people who have determined that religion no longer has a place in their life, but are still dealing with the after-effects in some way or another, Recovering From Religion (RR) may be just the right spot for you. Many people come to a point that they no longer accept the supernatural explanations for the world around them, or they realize just how much conflict religious belief creates. It can be difficult to leave religion because family and culture put so much pressure on us to stay and pretend to believe the unbelievable. If this is you, we want to help you find your way out. Don’t let people convince you that you just didn’t have ‘enough’ faith, or that you just haven’t found the “right” religion.”
Sarah and I chatted (and often laughed) about our old experiences as conservative Christians. We discussed some of the funny language (Christian-eze) we used to use, the various levels of guilt and shame that were cast upon us, and how science helps explain some of the interesting displays of piety often seen at Pentecostal services. Sarah’s jovial and welcoming demeanor was calming, and as an Executive Director for a project aimed at helping people “recover” from religion, I cannot think of a better person for the job.
Lyz. Photo by SSA.
The last woman I have in mind is Lyz Liddell.
Lyz is the Director of Campus Organizing for the Secular Student Alliance. I have an interview I did with her a while back, on this very blog! Besides running around with her headset on, standing on chairs for announcements, and generally keeping the world of SSA from not crumbling into oblivion, Lyz is a great motivation and example. If you are ever interested in starting a SSA group on your campus, talk to her.
To all those who attended this years SSA West, or who are involved with helping secular students: Unite!
Kile Jones holds a Bachelors of Theology (B.Th.) from Faith Seminary, a Masters of Theological Studies (M.T.S.) and a Masters of Sacred Theology (S.T.M.) from Boston University, and is a current Ph.D. in Religion student at Claremont Lincoln University. He also holds a Certificate in Science and Religion from the Boston Theological Institute. Mr. Jones has been published in Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science, Philosophy Now, Free Inquiry, World Futures, Human Affairs, and the Secular Web. He is the Founder/Editor-in-Chief of Claremont Journal of Religion (www.claremontjournal.com), and is the Founder/Director of Interview an Atheist at Church Day (interviewatheists.wordpress.com).
When I was a little girl, I used to be afraid. I was afraid of the dark. I was afraid of thunderstorms. I remember once cowering on the floor in the back seat of the car waiting for my dad to come take us home. My dad, who was a Methodist Minister, was too busy talking about God to really notice my reaction to being there in the back seat of the car during that terrible storm. Instead, he just kept busy, talking about God to other grown ups—talking in a way I did not understand, or found incredibly boring and long winded, sometimes even just a little frightening.
But Thunderstorms filled in a gap I did not know I had. A gap between my tiny self and the awesome Reality I have since come to know in a very different way. So when I would hear thunder, I thought of it as coming from God. I would begin this conversation with the Awesomeness of It asking moral questions: you know about good and bad. The thunder would seem to provide direct answers. Was that the voice of God?
Isn’t that how so many people think of God: an awesome and overwhelming omnipotent presence—with a voice that roars?
One dark night, during another storm, maybe my father heard me crying. He sat me on his lap and told me, in his quiet voice, how God had promised He would never again destroy the world by water. The sign of this promise, he said to me, was the Rainbow… the place where water, light and power combine to show color and beauty. That was my first experience of transcendence. From that time forward I would seek that loving nurturing experience of the Ultimate. Continue reading ““Papa Don’t Preach”: TED-like Talks at Malmo Nordic Women’s Forum May 2014″
My joy is rebellion, and so is my passion,
my excitement, and even my sexuality,
but only here where truth is kept secret.
Where joy exploding in my vocal cords
and coursing through my limbs is
silenced or censored looked upon as foreign
in this house haunted by sad spirits.
Where my passion rising above the lull
of everyday existence, more in tune with
childlike exuberance is drowned out by
the endless buzz of television noise.
Where my excitement for learning is
relegated to four walls of my blue bedroom,
and conversation and connection propels
me from our first floor to my sister’s
basement apartment.
Where my sexuality is cloistered inciting
fear that even its refined expression would
lead to some mythical disaster in which
men would prey on my delicate femininity.
Where my mind has constricted from being,
asked why I can’t force myself to be satisfied
with a linear spiritual existence or someone’s else
fears and expectations for my life.
My joy is rebellion, and so is my passion,
my excitement, and even my sexuality,
but with love as my fuel, I will be
a rebel with a cause and that cause
will be enlivened truth.
Postlude: As an American Muslim women of African Caribbean, Native American, and European decent, this poem is a reflection on the remnants of both historical trauma and being partially raised in an ultra-conservative community . An experience I am still continuing to heal from. In essence, this is a deeply personal and poetic reflection on my own experience of how intergenerational trauma is often compounded by the practice of literalist interpretations of religion, particularly in my case, Islam. I am continuing a ten year journey in rediscovering my true cultural and spiritual heritage that had been partly denied me. In writing this piece, I hoped to gain clarity on my path to heal and becoming a healer through a more fluid engagement with my own faith, while learning and benefiting from other faith traditions. Through a full engagement with Sufism, an integral part of Islam’s sacred tradition, also known as the science of purification (Ihsan), I hope to continue on my journey of spiritual renewal and healing and to aid the world in healing from the fear and numbness that plagues us as moderns.
Safa N. Plenty is an educator and mental health counselor, who will be pursuing a Ph.D at Claremont Lincoln School of Theology with a focus in spiritual formation and peacebuilding. She holds a Masters of Social Work from Columbia University and an undergraduate degree in interdisciplinary studies with a minor in Africana Studies. For the past two years, she has worked as a K-12 educational contractor and assistant counselor at a local community college. Her research interest include Sufism, Attachment to God, indigenous cosmology, particularly Native American and Somatic psychology. She is also interested in religious mysticism, mindfulness practice in Buddhism and the role of feminism and religion in cultivating a peacebuilding capacity among young Muslim women. She is currently working to develop a faith based healthy relationships program for Mothers and daughters. She enjoys writing poetry, research, and contemplative practice in art.
It is World Pride in Toronto this year. The city is filled with people from everywhere celebrating the gorgeous spectrum of humanity and the right of all human beings to live with dignity. In honor of World Pride and happy coincidence of the beginning of Ramadan, I would like to share one of the earliest sermons I gave at Toronto Unity Mosque reflecting on the struggles of our LGBTQ refugee congregants. I share this to honor those refugees, as well as our other congregants whose journey is no less significant, and also to honor my friends and co-founders of the Toronto Unity Mosque, El-Farouk Khaki and Troy Jackson, as well as Adnan Hussein who was with us from the early days.
I am currently in Cape Town South Africa at a Queer Muslim International Retreat. Next month I will go to Jakarta Indonesia for a workshop focused on the same agenda: reform in Muslim communities towards the lives of dignity for lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, transgender, Queer and Intersex Muslims. It has been a long road and the end of the struggle is nowhere in sight. Still, there are important developments worth noting.
Feminism and Religion 