This is a rather simplified version of how I became a Muslim. As with all stories of significant events in one's life, the full, unedited version would be pages long and possibly quite boring to read.
This particular version was published in my MSA's monthly newsletter last October. The Ohio University Muslim Student Association's website is http://cscwww.cats.ohiou.edu/~muslimst/. Copies of the newsletter are posted here.
(One day I may figure out how to make links in my blog... Wouldn't you like that?)
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How I Became an American Muslim
I am an American convert to Islam, one of thousands each year. I probably do not fit anyone’s stereotypes of who a convert to Islam should be: None of my family are Muslim nor are any of them from the Middle East. I am a white female, a college student, a Muslim who believes strongly in the rights and equality of women.
In a little over a month, I will mark the first anniversary of my conversion to Islam. This seems a good time to reflect on the journey that led me to this faith.
About three years ago, I gradually left Christianity because of theological differences, which had become more pronounced over time. I had abandoned the Church, but still kept my faith in God. During this transitional time, I studied different religions – Buddhism and Hinduism most deeply – but did not find any that fit with my few existing beliefs and that I could rationally accept.
Around the time that the United States attacked Iraq, I realized that I knew very little about Islam. It was only natural that I would add Islam to the religions I had been reading about. I realized that the way Islam was being portrayed in the media was probably not wholly accurate, so I read Islamic websites and sought out an opportunity to visit the Islamic Center on campus in an attempt to balance my understanding. I attended an Open House at the Islamic Center, spoke with some of the women there, and left more intrigued by this faith than before.
But then I became caught up in the demands of school and life, and put Islam out of my mind for a while. Even so, my spiritual restlessness continued to grow. Just before the month of Ramadan began last year, I decided to visit the Islamic Center again. (The month of Ramadan is a time when Muslims fast from dawn to sunset to commemorate the giving of the Qu’ran. Fasting during Ramadan is one of the Five Pillars of the Islamic faith.) Ramadan is the most social time of year for Muslim families, since many Muslims come together at their mosques or Islamic Centers to break their fast and pray together each evening.
Ramadan in Athens is no different. I enjoyed the evening meals at the Islamic Center, which was crowded every evening I was able to attend. I even attempted fasting for a week or so, but found it too difficult to sustain without previous practice with this level of fasting and without the proper religious reason to support my weak willpower. The time I did fast was rewarding, though; I gained deeper insight into what it might be like to be a Muslim and I learned more about the observance of Ramadan than I think I could have from a book or website.
What I most enjoyed about Ramadan was the camaraderie. There were Muslims there from all over the world, representing diverse cultures and having differing interpretations of Islam, covering the spectrum from very conservative to progressive and everything in between, yet they did not allow their doctrinal differences to come between them. Each considered the others to be her sisters and brothers in Islam, regardless of practical differences. I had read that Islam is a religion with room for wide differences of interpretation, that accepts differences of belief within the boundaries of belief in one God and in the final prophet Mohammed. During Ramadan, I saw that diversity in action.
Toward the end of Ramadan, I began seriously considering Islam as possibly being the faith I had been searching for. I was drawn to Islam because of its strict monotheism, its view of other monotheistic religions, and the warm fellowship among its community of believers. Islam recognizes the Jewish prophets as messengers from God in the same prophetic lineage as the last prophet, Mohammed. Islam also recognizes Jesus as a prophet in this line, a very special prophet who will return to usher in the end of time, although he is not the son of God nor God Himself. The Qu’ran teaches that prophets were sent to each group or community of people so that all would know the fundamental message that there is only one God, although that message was often misunderstood or forgotten in the course of time. This teaching was one that I had been looking for in particular – the idea that God had not chosen one group of people and left the others to figure things out for themselves, but rather, that God had spoken to all peoples because all are equally worthy of His attention and equally responsible to believe in and worship Him.
(I use the masculine pronoun to refer to God as a linguistic convention, because of the limitations of English. In Arabic, the noun “Allah” – which simply means “God” – does not have a specific gender attached to it. God, or Allah, is neither male nor female, but is far greater than these human classifications.)
When I realized that I was thinking seriously about converting, I wrestled with my feelings toward Islam. One part of me very much wanted to commit to Islam, another part worried that I hadn’t found ‘the truth’ yet, another part was afraid of how my family and my husband might react, and another part was overwhelmed by how much I would have to learn to be a good Muslim. But I knew that I wouldn’t be happy if I walked away from Islam. My husband, and most of my family, had always been supportive of me and I had no reason to doubt that would change with my change of faith. And learning about one’s faith, whatever it is, is a gradual process – the Muslim community would be there to help me learn, without pressure to learn everything all at once. My desire to become a Muslim overrode my objections, and I made my profession of faith at Eid, the holiday celebrating the end of Ramadan.
In the year since my conversion, I’ve learned more about my faith than I would have thought I could. I’ve found that the rituals of ablution and prayer are simple to perform but deep with meaning and spiritual value. Sometimes the requirements of my faith are challenging – for instance, it can be difficult on a busy day to pray when I should – but when I put forth the effort to fulfill those responsibilities, I find the effort rewarding. My husband has noticed that I am happier and more content since I accepted Islam. I am glad to be a Muslim, and will enjoy celebrating my first ‘conversion anniversary’ at Eid this year.
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Heather I admire you so much. I too had been searching, for some truth, though I must admit I was nowhere as committed to the search as you were. I was prepared to sit back and acknowledge all that I found contradictory in Christianity, but I was not actively trying to learn about other religions.
ReplyDeleteI met my husband, who was born muslim here in the US and it is through him that I came to learn about Islam. He was able to teach me the true essence of Islam and we strive everyday to live our lives in a manner that is pleasing to Allah.
For him it is easier than for me.
I still find it difficult to give up my old ways - the freedom of being able to dress without considering whether it is modest enough. And this is even though my husband has never forced anything upon me and is so understanding of my struggles. I feel so silly admitting that this is such a big deal for me, but it is. I do understand why Islam requires of us all that it does, but I find it hard to give up so many of life's simple pleasures. Heather, I envy you, because for me being a good Muslim is so much more difficult.
Ah, sister Sian, being a 'good Muslim' is a struggle for most of us converts! Including me! I left out of this article the hard parts - struggles over what appropriate covering is to me, fighting with myself to pray when I should, embarrasment at making wudu and praying in public... It's easier than at first, alhamdulillah, but it's still hard to live up to the standards given to us.
ReplyDeleteIt's somewhat easier, I think, for born Muslims who have practiced most or all of their lives. For them, most of this is habit, routine, and part of their identity, while we converts struggle to re-make our identities amidst the conflicting influences of western society and the multitude of Muslim voices each trying to mold us into their image of a Muslim woman. So don't feel silly - it IS a big deal, it IS difficult sometimes. But try not to lose sight of who YOU are and why you were drawn to Islam in the first place, while you're going through these changes.
I don't know, though, what you mean by having to give up 'so many of life's simple pleasures.' Unless you mean, perhaps, the pleasure of having the breeze in your hair and the sun on your bare arms. That I miss - but I can't think of much else in the way of simple pleasures that I've had to give up. (Well, there's bacon...mmm, but oh-so-haram!) If you have had to give up more than that - perhaps you've given up more than you should. Some interpret Islam so very strictly, but there's a number of other, more moderate (and still quite traditional and conservative) points of view.
Let me know if you'd like to talk more. And thanks for the feedback!