9-12

On 9-11 I attended an interfaith service hosted by the community at Portland Rizwan Mosque. I still like to find ways to commemorate 9-11, and, personally, an interfaith service of healing and solidarity is the best way I know how. And at a mosque? Bonus!

I had no idea what to expect, but when I saw the long, long line of overflow parking I thought, "good," and remembered my change of heart about the throngs of people filling my church on Easter, how they used to make me grouchy until I realized an overflowing house of worship isn't necessarily a bad thing (unless they're burning Korans, I guess). I trudged up the hill in my uncomfortable heels as a man in a dark suit and sunglasses quickly caught up to me. I asked him what "community" he was from, and he hesitated and then sheepishly said, "actually, I'm from the federal government." Fancy that! Our hosts were nothing but friendly and hospitable--not sure when they found time to have their big Eid party amidst all of this.

The service consisted of a series of speakers from the Abrahamic faiths, plus some Buddhists for good measure. All found different ways to say a few things: terrorists and Koran burners do not represent us, and we rebuke these actions. We are called to love God and one another. Our religious traditions are meant to help us strive for peace and kinship. I sat next to Jews, Muslims, and Christians, and at various points throughout the service I saw lips moving and nods of recognition as familiar prayers in English, Hebrew, and Arabic were offered. I felt most at home when the Lutheran pastor had us all stand up and hug or shake the hand of the person next to us and wish them peace (ahem, I chose the handshake).

Naturally, it was the Buddhists who really brought it. I kind of felt like they were standing a little outside of the situation, and had their usual helpful Buddhist perspective. There were two speakers. One talked about fear, and how "1-2-3," it becomes fear-anger-hatred. The other led us through a quick-and-dirty "metta" practice of offering loving kindness to ourselves, a benefactor/friend, and one with whom we are in conflict. The reminder to find compassion for terrorists and Koran-burners was one of the most essential, and, of course, difficult. I do this practice at home from time to time, and it helps a lot. It makes me feel like a "better" Christian.

The Interfaith service I attended on 9-11-2001 opened with singing "America the Beautiful." I had never paid attention to the line, "America, America, God mend thine every flaw," and I remember bursting into tears when we came to it. What an important prayer. Yesterday I felt like part of this country's best self--like some of this mending was taking place in our gathering together. I absolutely do not believe this "best self" is necessarily religious. But yesterday a bunch of religious folks got together to take a stand for love, respect, justice, and sanity, and I was immensely proud to be a part of it.