We at Pacifica Institute extend our heartfelt condolences to those who are effected by the tragic accident in Mecca.
An Open Letter to My Muslim Neighbors
Rarely do I look at the news. There is something horrible regarding the fact contemporary media each day condenses over 168 billion hours of human living into a 43 minute broadcast, with stories chosen more for their entertainment value and power to shock than for any other metric. However, Saturday afternoon I glanced at the news – and was stunned.
Dozens of pilgrims worshipping in the Masjid al-Haram were dead and many more injured, due to a terrible accident involving high winds and construction equipment. This impacted me greatly for a couple reasons, one having to do with the setting of the accident and the other having to do with my activity at the time. In the days since I learned of the accident in Mecca the death toll has risen, and now we know more than five hundred worshippers are dead or injured resulting from the tragedy.
The setting of the accident is significant. We are closing in on the time of the Hajj, participation in which is the duty of every faithful and able-bodied Muslim at least once in his or her lifetime; so important is the Hajj that if a person is unable to go, in special circumstances a family member or close friend may go in proxy. Among the Five Pillars of Islam the pilgrimage of the Hajj is one of the most intensely personal, spiritual experiences a Muslim will undertake in his or her lifetime. This year the five days of Hajj are near the end of September and the Masjid al-Haram was built to shelter the Ka’aba, an integral landmark of the Hajj journey and a symbol of God’s undying love for mankind.
The five days of the Hajj are personal and sacred, and participants are united in purpose across all lines of social class and status and by the wearing of simple white garments. The events and actions of this pilgrimage are in effect a retelling of the history of creation as allegory, expressed through the lens of sacred covenants specific to Muslims. The journey culminates with an ascension of Mt. Arafat, which the prophet Mohamed taught was the reason for Hajj. Stripped of ego and pride, the humble supplicant stands on the slopes of Mt. Arafat – baring the soul in the symbolic presence of God. It can be a profoundly moving and life-changing experience.
I am not Muslim, but I appreciate this setting. As an LDS Christian – a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints – I feel some affinity for this Hajj activity.
Every path of faith around the world has different sets of prescribed activities for the faithful to follow. Some may seem onerous and others simple, but each act is performed as a symbol of our desire for devotion and to submit our will to Deity. In my own Christian faith there are a number of these special and sacred activities including temple attendance. About 150 LDS Christian temples are in operation around the world and I am lucky enough to live close to one. When I learned of the tragedy at Masjid al-Haram the impact was magnified, because I was on my way to the temple.
For LDS Christians, the temple is a profoundly sacred site and temple attendance is required of all who are physically able, at least once in their life. It is so important that, in special circumstances, a person may attend as proxy for another who cannot bodily participate. United in white clothing, participants experience an allegorical retelling of the spiritual history of creation in the light of sacred covenants. This spiritual journey, although lasting only hours rather than the days of Hajj, culminates in a visit to a special room designed as a representation of Heaven – where stripped of pride and ego, the faithful humbly meditate in the symbolic presence of God. For many it is among the most deeply moving, profoundly personal experiences of their lives.
Why do I mention my Christian experience in light of the events in Mecca? To illustrate a little of my frame of mind when I heard the news. The Children of the Book or the Abrahamic faiths – including Jews, Christians, and Muslims – do have important and integral differences of doctrine. However, many more things unite us than otherwise. I share with my Muslim friends a desire for a personal relationship with my Creator, a deep and abiding appreciation for family, an awareness of the soul’s existence and continuation beyond this life, and a belief that Heaven cannot be Paradise without the presence of those we love. The activity I was about to engage in – attending the temple – is a spiritual parallel in many respects to the Hajj in Mecca, and this contributed to my sadness of the events and my resulting action.
Shortly before entering the most sacred room in the temple, the symbolic presence of the divine, LDS Christians unite in prayer for loved ones in need. Although I do not know the names of any involved, I submitted the victims and families impacted by the tragedy in Mecca as a subject for prayer. From all walks of life and diverse backgrounds, fellow Christians joined me in prayer for the welfare of our neighbors on the far side of the world. Christians commit to mourn with those who mourn and comfort those who stand in need of comfort, and we prayed for our Creator to lift the hands which hang down and strengthen the feeble knees.
The accident and destruction were terrible, and in the context in which it happened the events are heartbreaking. All are deserving of our prayers, and to my Muslim neighbors I want you to know you are in mine. Please accept this from a Christian – may God in His infinite compassion and wisdom grant you healing and solace.
Bismallah Ar-Rahman, Ar-Rahim, Al-Mu’id, Al-Basit, As-Salam,
In the Name of God the Compassionate, the Merciful, the Healer, Reliever, and Source of all peace,
May we meet as friends in Paradise.
Andrew Kosorok
Author of the forthcoming books Faith, Alchemy, and Stained Glass: Four Lessons for Grownups and Windows in the Cities of Heaven: An Artist’s Guide to World Peace
http://ghostriverstudios.wordpress.com/