Jihad for me is walking into the Mesjid. As an American, it is a good exercise for me to see the things which are deeply wrong with my culture. They aren't easy to miss. However, walking into the Moscow Islamic Center, I can't help but remember the deeper problems which the many cultures which have embraced Islam have. This is despite the vast strength and profound benefits which I believe Islam has to offer the world. (I must believe this, or I wouldn't have decided to become a Muslim.)
Islamic-culture problems like inferior treatment of women, sexual violence, a kind of "culture nazi" view of shariah, hiding in the closet in Western cultures, conflating religion and politics (sometimes to the point of violence), are easy to spot for an American observer. Part of this is because these problems are emphasized by the media. Part of this, though, is that these problems quite obviously exist. And I can't deny that. And that is why walking into the Mesjid is jihad for me.
As I journey through the world of being a Muslim, I see a great deal of hope and offering in the religion of Islam. I believe it is the best religion in the world. But it's always difficult for me to walk into the Mesjid, knowing my staunch unwillingness to discard my Stetson cowboy hat as a North Idaho Libertarian, nor to set aside my uniquely American beliefs about the world. I am an American. And I hold a far less cynical view of American culture than many of my Muslim sisters and brothers.
This makes the Eid al-Fitr gatherings and the public worship very difficult for me. Sometimes, I decide just to pray at home. It's too frightening to go to the Mosque. I willingly adopt the ideology which France would jam down my throat — I keep my religion private. I realize it is difficult particularly for my Muslim brothers, too. At first, I was hurt by the marked lack of "Aslaam-o-alikum" greetings at the local Eid al-Fitr feast. But then, upon reflection, I realized that a lot of the people there probably didn't know I was a Muslim. And, quite reasonably, they were afraid of me; a North-Idahoan wearing a Stetson cowboy hat is not someone an Arab Muslim immigrant wants to piss off. I don't want to make things this difficult for these Muslims, but I have to.
Why do I have to? Because of the ease at which the 12-year-old Pakistani Muslim came up behind me, said "Aslaam-o-alikum," and shook my hand. He treated me as a true brother: with a child's courage, undaunted by the baggage of Islamic-American relations. He will return to Pakistan with a positive view of North-Idahoans wearing cowboy hats, which insha'Allah has tremendous impact on the world's path towards peace.
Muhammad (sallallahu aleyhi wa salaam) said that the second best deed for a Muslim to do, just below belief in Allah (subhana wa t'alla) and His prophets. So I suppose I still, with the help of the more courageous of my Muslim brothers, will visit the Mesjid. Sometimes, with my punk-Libertarian upbringing, my Islamic-Buddhist beliefs, and my Stetson cowboy hat, I feel like my very existence is an act of jihad. But I have to do it. Because I feel I have a positive contribution to make. I hope, earnestly, that all these things help.
Eid Mubarrak.
**Note: Saying Islam is the best religion in the world in no way invalidates my Buddhist perspective. Buddhism has religious aspects, which I believe are Islam — or, at the very least, if you want to get technical, they are proto-Islamic. But primarily, Buddhism isn't a religion, but rather a system of mind-yoga which leads to truth, including religious truth, which was formulated as a radical contre-puntal to Hindu yoga. Buddhism is a philosophical mind-training technique and world-outlook, not so much a religion.
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