From Iconoclasm to Icono-chasm
ISIS captured Palmyra last month.
The grand arches and amphitheater
are some of the best remaining examples of ancient Roman architecture in
the world. These antiquities belong to
us. They belong to every nation, our
collective history. We cringe as we
suspect what will come.
ISIS could
blast these ancient ruins to unrecognizable rubble, much in the way they
destroyed the Assyrian statues in Mosul’s museum in February. With each
iconoclastic rampage, they take another jewel from us all.
The city of Palmyra is about 3,000
kilometers from the city of Muscat,
Oman where Al Amana Centre is located. That’s about 1,900 miles, exactly the same distance from Mexico
City, Mexico to Orange City, Iowa.
ISIS is far, far away from us. We are
safe in Oman.
There is a chasm of difference between ISIS and Oman. We are separated from ISIS by far more than distance. We are separated also by the
way that Islam is practiced in Oman.
Islam, properly understood, provides
careful legal protections for any people with a scriptural tradition, including
Christians and Jews. In the Quran we
are called Ahl Al Kitab, “the people of
the book” and in Oman that concept
extends to Hindus, Buddhists and the
people of all religions and cultures.
A remarkable thing happened in
Oman this month. As ISIS is crushing
artifacts, Oman paid over $50,000 US
dollars to restore an artifact, a Christian artifact, our Al Amana Centre
Bible. The Bible was published in
1891. We think that it was among the
first Bibles brought to Oman by the
early missionaries of the Reformed
Church. Al Amana Centre has had
the large leather bound family bible on
our shelf in the office for decades.
We lent the Bible to Oman’s National
Museum for six years to be displayed
in their new exhibition on the history of
the Reformed Church mission in
Oman.
Oman’s Ministry of National Heritage
and Culture called us up the other day
and asked us to come into the archival
lab to inspect their work. I have never
seen anything like it. They had hired a
team of professional archivists and
conservators from Spain to come to
Muscat to restore ancient documents
in preparation for the museum’s opening in the fall. One of those documents
was our Bible. The team spent months
working hours each day to meticulously repair every tiny tear in every
page. They worked with the precision
of surgeons as if they were saving the
life of a precious relative.
Oman is proud of its relationship with
Christians and will exhibit the Bible as
an important artifact of this relationship.
The Omani curator of the museum
made a stunning discovery as he was
overseeing the restoration. He found
an artfully designed page in our Bible
with Jesus’ summary of the law
written in calligraphy.
Thou shalt love the Lord
thy God with all thy heart,
and with all thy soul, and
with all thy mind. This is
the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it. Thou
shalt love thy neighbor as
thyself. On these two commandments hang all of the
law and the prophets.”
The Gospel of Luke 10:27
The Muslim curator said that he
was so impressed with these
words that he decided to display
the Bible opened to this page, so
Summer 2015
Volume 28/15
that all who go through the museum
will see it and be inspired.
Do not let ISIS shape your understanding of Islam. They and all of the
Muslim terrorist organizations combined in the world represent an estimated 4/100ths of 1% of Muslims
globally. Instead, look to the other
99.96% of Muslims in the world for a
more accurate understanding of their
faith.
What if we were to follow the teaching
that the Omani curator discovered in
our Bible? What if we were to obey
Jesus’ commandment?
What would it look like for Christians
to love Muslims just exactly as we
love ourselves? I am sure that if we
did love the Lord our God with all of
our hearts and souls
and minds, that loving
our Muslim neighbors
would be second nature.
Rev. Doug Leonard
The Bible restored
Page 2
Sharing Life Together
“What will you tell Americans about Oman?” was
the question asked by our Omani guest as eight
students and one professor from Western Theological Seminary sat with him in the majalis (living
room) of Al Amana Centre. The virtues of Omani
hospitality were chief among the answers, followed
closely by proclamations of peaceful co-existence,
and mutual understanding between Christians and
Muslims.
“What would you like Americans to know about
you?” one of our seminary students asked the female volunteer at the Grand Mosque. “That we are
not oppressed” was her ardent wish.
One of my greatest pleasures in life is to introduce
people from the land of my birth, America, to my
current home, Oman. I treasure the moments when
people realize that they don’t have to give up any of
their Christian faith to live in a country where most
of the population is Muslim. I become emotional
when my friends from Oman become friends with Americans and stay in touch over Facebook and WhatsApp.
What is most encouraging though is that these eight students and one professor have now returned to the U.S. and
Canada and will share with their congregations what they
have learned and what they have experienced. I hope that,
perhaps, the narrative that is told about Muslim and Christians in the Middle East and Gulf will be more nuanced, fair,
and accurate.
Americans and Canadians are not the only one who needs
a more nuanced view. I am writing this article the morning
after a large group of armed bikers protested against Islam
outside the Phoenix Islamic Community Centre. The pictures and comments are already circulating among the
local population here in Oman. They wonder, “Why do
Americans hate us?” They have also read about, and seen
pictures from, the “Prophet Mohammed cartoon contest”.
The images of the West that many people here receive are
of intolerance against Islam. They don’t understand America as a place of religious freedom. They don’t always hear
about the Christians who stood vigil outside the Islamic
Center in solidarity with the praying Muslim inside.
When groups come here to Al Amana Centre and local
people meet our groups and hear they are Christian, there
is often an element of surprise when they find them modest, peaceful and inquisitive about Islam. Groups who
come have a calling and a purpose, to change the narrative
about Christianity often found here in the Gulf and Middle
East.
This kind of exchange brings the realization that we share
something basic, something that underlies our cultures, our
religions, even our understanding of God. Namely it creates
the understanding that we share a common humanity. Before Isaac and Ishmael there was Abraham, but before
Visitors from Western Seminary share life with
Omani guests.
Abraham there was Adam. When we interact with people
from another religion and another culture, it doesn’t take
too long before we discover we share a common humanity. The Western Seminary Group understood this when
our friend Mahmood took them to his farm and introduced
them to his daily life. Mahmood saw it in the students from
Western Seminary as we shared pictures and stories from
American and Canada.
We need to nuance the narrative that is told to us by the
loud voices of media and propaganda. We need people to
have real life encounters with each other so they can have
authoritative experiences to share with others. What the
world needs are people to take the time and expense to
intentionally share life together, if only for a brief time, and
to understand that we are connected across place, religion
and culture.
If you would like to organize a group trip to Oman to share
life, if only for a week or so, with people here in Oman,
please email me and we’ll work something out. Oman remains a safe and stable place for people to come and experience the Gulf and something of Islam. In a time where
the loudest voices share images of violence and intolerance, the world needs people who know that there is another story to be told.
Rev. Justin Meyers
Page 3
A Journey into “Otherness”
Over the course of my two semesters
in Oman, I have encountered difference in ways great and small. For me,
coming into continual contact with
something, someone other—very
other—is both enthralling and uncomfortable. Each day I traverse a familiar
route from Al Amana Centre’s campus
in Mutrah to the far-reaches of the
Mutrah souq (market) where my dear
Kashmiri friend, Shah, has a carpet
shop. As I set foot outside the tall gate
of the compound where I live—
removed and comfortable in its isolation from the world around—I am met
immediately by difference. The first
person I encounter is a young Pakistani shopkeeper named Shakeel.
Grinning, Shakeel walks toward me;
he gives me a forceful hug and then
reaches for my hand—not to shake it,
but to hold it—something that male
friends often do where he comes
from. Within twenty seconds of leaving my home, otherness grabs me by
the hand; it embraces me and bids me
come and share my life. And I am left
with a decision. Do I embrace this
strange other (uncomfortable as it
may be), or do I withdraw? Do I pretend that I am really far too busy for all
this and hurry away, or do I oblige my
neighbor and step into his shop—and
into his life? Today I choose to step in
and Shakeel hurries away to get me a
coke.
But my journey has just begun. After
some time I emerge from the shop—
having had much more coke than I
intended—and continue on my way. I
purposefully make my way to the entrance of the souq, but not before exchanging an animated “A-SalaamAlaikum” (“Peace be upon you”) with
the Omani taxi drivers who are waiting
for customers at the taxi stand. I enter
the souq and am met with the unmistakably sweet aroma of burning frankincense. I weave my way through the
crowded souq, mostly a sea of black
and white; the women are dressed in
the fashionable black abaya while the
men don the classy white dishdasha,
the outfit being made complete by the
ubiquitous aviator sunglasses. I look
out at the crowd through my own aviators and can’t help but chuckle to myself. In some ways these strange people and I are strikingly and humorously
alike; yet in other ways we are so blatantly different. I wonder though: who
is really different? Is it they or is it I?
Perhaps it is both—or neither. Why do
I use these otherizing terms: “I” and
“they”? This is the language of exclusion.
Finally I arrive at my destination:
Shah’s carpet shop. I am greeted
first by a Bengali shopkeeper by
the name of Halal-Mia. Though his
English ability is very limited, HalalMia’s infectiously radiant smile is
more welcoming and pacifying to
me than any words he could possibly offer. I step into the shop. My
friend Shah sets aside his phone
(and his game of “candy crush”),
rises, and greets me with a hug.
Shah is very different from me. He
is Indian Kashmiri; I am American.
His skin is brown; mine is white. He
is Muslim; I am Christian. These
are considerable differences. But
Shah and I also share much in life.
We are both single 20-somethings
with the same basic desires in life.
We both long for community and
friendship. We both desire to be
with our families and to make sure
that they are cared for. We both
strive to worship and obey God
with our lives—in our own ways—
to the best of our ability. Shah and I
are different, but also similar. We are
inextricably united in our common
humanity; we are both uniquely
formed in the image of God, a God
who created and delights in diversity.
We. This is the language of solidarity.
In his award-winning book called
“Exclusion and Embrace”, Miroslav
Volf, a leading Christian intellectual,
reframes our thinking on otherness:
“We, the others—we, the enemies—
are embraced by the divine persons
[trinity] who love us with the same
love with which they love each other
and therefore make space for us
within their own eternal embrace.
Having been embraced by God, we
must make space for others in ourselves and invite them in—even our
enemies.” (129)
We are the other—each one of us.
But God, who is rich in mercy, has
looked upon us, the vile and repulsive
other, and has embraced us even in
our filth. God, in Jesus, has not feared
the other nor hated the enemy; rather,
He has run to the other and made the
enemy a friend. Let us go and do likewise.
Zach DeBoer
To make a donation to Al
Amana Centre, please
email us at:
[email protected]
and we will direct you to
the appropriate channels.
Page 4
Al Amana Gala Dinner, March 2015
March 20th 2015 saw the transformation of the garden at the British
Ambassador’s Residence into an elegant setting for the Al Amana
Gala dinner. Partnered by the Women’s Guild in Oman, nearly 200
guests sat down to a four course meal followed by entertainment from
Muscat Chamber Choir, a jazz band and dancing.
Amazing grace was prevalent throughout - in the working relationships,
the support, the program, venue, et al. When the Organizing Committee decided to go with the olive branch theme, they didn’t realize how
beautifully it would all come together and link up the message of peace
and reconciliation. During the course of the evening, eleven white
doves were handed out to eleven guests from among the international
community. The MC then spoke of the significance of the olive branch
and God’s love and assurance of peace, linking it with the story of
Noah; the guests were then requested to release the doves. As the
birds flew across the Arabian Sea, it was a sight to behold. How apt!
And what an effective manner of presenting an example of faith and
hope.
Thanks to the hard work of the organizing committee the evening was
a great success.
An elegant setting for the Al Amana Gala
dinner.
Doves of peace being released over the
Arabian Sea.
Rev. Doug Leonard
Executive Director
Rev. Justin Meyers
Associate Director