Sunday, March 21, 2004
Back in town
I stepped out of the airport last night (after several hours of delays both on the ground and in the air) and was greeted by a cold blast of wind. Yep. Back in the north.
My cab ride back to Evanston from O'Hare was amazing - I am finding cab drivers in this city generally fascinating people. This gentleman was from Tunisia in North Africa. We had a wonderful conversation about the differences between America and Tunisia, political, religious, and otherwise, and even about the differences in American life between big cities and smaller cities. Our discussion drifted towards the topic of racism and how he felt that racism was so present in American culture, embedded really. He used the word "heriditary" to describe this phenomenon and though I have never heard that word used in this context, I found myself able to agree with him. He told me that in Tunisia, there are people of all different races and ethnicities and that there really is no racism. He said you will find black people with black eyes, black people with brown eyes, brown people with brown eyes, brown people with green eyes (Barbars, a beautiful people, he assured me), white people with blue eyes and everything in between. "If people have a disagreement, it is just that, a disagreement. No one blames it on race and no one feels their blood is superior to other peoples blood." We then talked about why America might be this way and settled on two conclusions: the institution of slavery in American life, and the fact that America, in the eyes of the broader global community, is really a fledgling nation akin to a young teenage boy first discovering that he has muscles bigger than his peers and wanting to flex and flaunt them. As we drew near to my apartment, he asked what I did and when I told him I was studying to be an Anglican cleric, he said that he wished I had said so earlier because we could have had a fascinating discussion on religion. As it turns out, once we reached my stop and I had paid him, we sat in the cab for another twenty minutes and had said discussion. He was fascinated that someone who was studying to be a Christian priest had such a pluralistic outlook on other faiths (particularly his, Islam). We talked about how we had each come to believe in our separate faiths and what that meant to us, taking turns sharing and listening, careful not to judge, condemn, or attempt to convert. (If only the world could learn this!!) He asked me how it was that I could believe Jesus was God and how could I explain the Trinity. I pondered that for a while and said that it would take much longer to divulge than we really had but shared with him a few tidbits. He admonished me that, in his eyes, this was the most important thing for a cleric to be able to do - tell how Jesus is God and how the Trinity works. He believes that to not be able to do so is a failing of the religion and of the priest. When we talked about Islam, he was surprised to learn that I was familiar with a lot of the Qur'an and the faith. He shared his understanding of the belief that "al'qitab" (lit. - "people of the book", ref. to Jews and Christians) were true believers in the one God, but ones that had gotten lost on the way. The arabic word he used for this sounded something like "thaleen", but I am unsure. He then concluded that he personally believed that those who really believed in the one God, no matter what you called Him (Allah, God, YHWH) would be found one day in paradise. For the Christian, belief in Jesus is belief in the one God and I can wholeheartedly agree with his sentiment and told him so. We shook hands and parted with the words, "Assalam aleikum." "Wa'aleikum assalam." Peace be with you. And also with you. This man is truly my brother and I've no doubt that we'll see each other again one day, in the next life.
What an unusual and wonderful cab ride indeed! Have you ever sat in the cab for an extra twenty minutes and had a cool conversation, the cab driver happy to turn off the meter? I had not until now. After that, I came in, cleaned up, and went to bed early. This morning I woke, on my own volition, early and decided to go to church as there will be no Canterbury tonight because NU students are on Spring Break. I went to Christ Church in Winnetka, a few miles North of me. It was a good service over all but lacked a certain feeling of vivacity that I would look for in a church. The gospel was the story of the Prodigal Son, from the Lukan account. Immediately following the Gospel, Fr. Prevost began his sermon with the question, "Who are you?" For those who know, it is needless to say I was taken back a few years to a time when that gospel story and that question were also juxtaposed, albeit in the reverse order.
-R
I stepped out of the airport last night (after several hours of delays both on the ground and in the air) and was greeted by a cold blast of wind. Yep. Back in the north.
My cab ride back to Evanston from O'Hare was amazing - I am finding cab drivers in this city generally fascinating people. This gentleman was from Tunisia in North Africa. We had a wonderful conversation about the differences between America and Tunisia, political, religious, and otherwise, and even about the differences in American life between big cities and smaller cities. Our discussion drifted towards the topic of racism and how he felt that racism was so present in American culture, embedded really. He used the word "heriditary" to describe this phenomenon and though I have never heard that word used in this context, I found myself able to agree with him. He told me that in Tunisia, there are people of all different races and ethnicities and that there really is no racism. He said you will find black people with black eyes, black people with brown eyes, brown people with brown eyes, brown people with green eyes (Barbars, a beautiful people, he assured me), white people with blue eyes and everything in between. "If people have a disagreement, it is just that, a disagreement. No one blames it on race and no one feels their blood is superior to other peoples blood." We then talked about why America might be this way and settled on two conclusions: the institution of slavery in American life, and the fact that America, in the eyes of the broader global community, is really a fledgling nation akin to a young teenage boy first discovering that he has muscles bigger than his peers and wanting to flex and flaunt them. As we drew near to my apartment, he asked what I did and when I told him I was studying to be an Anglican cleric, he said that he wished I had said so earlier because we could have had a fascinating discussion on religion. As it turns out, once we reached my stop and I had paid him, we sat in the cab for another twenty minutes and had said discussion. He was fascinated that someone who was studying to be a Christian priest had such a pluralistic outlook on other faiths (particularly his, Islam). We talked about how we had each come to believe in our separate faiths and what that meant to us, taking turns sharing and listening, careful not to judge, condemn, or attempt to convert. (If only the world could learn this!!) He asked me how it was that I could believe Jesus was God and how could I explain the Trinity. I pondered that for a while and said that it would take much longer to divulge than we really had but shared with him a few tidbits. He admonished me that, in his eyes, this was the most important thing for a cleric to be able to do - tell how Jesus is God and how the Trinity works. He believes that to not be able to do so is a failing of the religion and of the priest. When we talked about Islam, he was surprised to learn that I was familiar with a lot of the Qur'an and the faith. He shared his understanding of the belief that "al'qitab" (lit. - "people of the book", ref. to Jews and Christians) were true believers in the one God, but ones that had gotten lost on the way. The arabic word he used for this sounded something like "thaleen", but I am unsure. He then concluded that he personally believed that those who really believed in the one God, no matter what you called Him (Allah, God, YHWH) would be found one day in paradise. For the Christian, belief in Jesus is belief in the one God and I can wholeheartedly agree with his sentiment and told him so. We shook hands and parted with the words, "Assalam aleikum." "Wa'aleikum assalam." Peace be with you. And also with you. This man is truly my brother and I've no doubt that we'll see each other again one day, in the next life.
What an unusual and wonderful cab ride indeed! Have you ever sat in the cab for an extra twenty minutes and had a cool conversation, the cab driver happy to turn off the meter? I had not until now. After that, I came in, cleaned up, and went to bed early. This morning I woke, on my own volition, early and decided to go to church as there will be no Canterbury tonight because NU students are on Spring Break. I went to Christ Church in Winnetka, a few miles North of me. It was a good service over all but lacked a certain feeling of vivacity that I would look for in a church. The gospel was the story of the Prodigal Son, from the Lukan account. Immediately following the Gospel, Fr. Prevost began his sermon with the question, "Who are you?" For those who know, it is needless to say I was taken back a few years to a time when that gospel story and that question were also juxtaposed, albeit in the reverse order.
-R
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