"Salam aleikom",
This traditional Afghan greeting translates as "Peace be with you" and it is so very appropriate to open with this update to the blog. That traditional greeting means so much to me. Not only because it is one of the first Dari phrases that I learned, but because so many of my new Afghan friends truly seek that peace in a land where it is so hard to find.
It is hard to believe that I have been in Afghanistan for three weeks. The time as flown by from the time I received the call to deploy, to being put on hold, then told to mobilize again, to actually landing in Kabul. And then, once I got here, we rolled up our sleeves and went right to work.
From the perspective of my work committment, we are moving forward with the design of new government district and training centers in several of the provinces where the government, until now, has been somewhat non-existent. We hope to be able to complete topographic surveys and conduct geo-technical testing on many of the sites in the next couple months, with the hope to break ground in the early spring. Several of the sites will actually be snowbound from December to March, but others we may be able to proceed right through the winter.
From the perspective of my spiritual journey and committment, I see and feel things that are new and different but at the same time deeply familiar. We don't always have the opportunity to attend worship services, due to security concerns, but that doesn't stop us from being in the presence of the spirit of God.
There are also some of the elements of the Islamic faith of many of my Afghan co-workers and friends that I have experienced in a bold new way. They exhibit their faith committment openly. They have a gentle spirit. They faithfully answer the call to prayer five times per day. Prior to their prayer time, they complete a physical and spiritual cleansing. First, they wash their face, hands and feet to present a clean body before God. Then, they invite the spirit of God to cleanse their spirit, moving their hands in an inviting motion ovr their head in a symbolic washing of their soul. As they enter their prayer time, they fall to their knees on a prayer rug - a rug whose only purpose is for prayer - and bow before God in a act of total submission, petitioning His forgiveness and His compassion. Many of my friends have had the same prayer rug for many years - so many years that the spots where their knees and foreheads touch the rug are worn and bare.
On their holy day, which is Friday, many of the Muslim faithful fast from sun up to sun down, again as an act of cleansing and submission to the will of God. During the season of Ramadon, usually a month long observance in September to October, they fast during daylight hours everyday for a month, then end with the festival of Eid, a multi-day celebration of God's omnipotence and faithfulness.
In reflection, that's quite a bit of a different picture of the Islamic faith than what we see on the nightly news back home, isn't it? I now believe that to fully experience the depth of faith that many, many Muslims feel, one must spend some time in the culture and be open to a deeper understanding of their committment.
This experience has only strengthened my faith in Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior, while at the same time helped me to examine some of those elements of Muslim worship that I believe Christians could benefit from in our own faith walk.
How many of us set aside time in our busy lives to lock out the rest of the world, to cleanse our body & spirit, to fall prostrate before our God in submission and enter into direct conversation with Him - not just once per day but five times EVERY day?
I know some of my brothers and sisters in Christ who might give up a little something up during Lent, or might even entering into a brief time of fasting occasionally - but how many of us would consider doing it one day a week for our entire lives? or for an entire month? It's a humbling thought, isn't it? Perhaps, eye opening as well?
I just finished reading a book called "Three Cups of Tea" by Greg Mortenson and David Relin (I highly recommend it!). It's the story of Greg's committment to build schools in some of the most impoverished areas of Pakistan beginning in the 1990's and continuing thru to present day. I hope each of us takes some time to reflect on the words and our own perspectives - and how we might choose to see things just a bit differently if we open our hearts to the possibilities.
I'll close this blog entry with a quote from that book. In that quote, Mortenson is quoting a speech given by a powerful Islamic Shite cleric in September 14, 2001 at the dedication of a new school in Kuardu, Pakistan - just three days after the events of September 11th.
"We share in the sorrow as people weep and suffer in America today...those who committed this evil act against the innocent, the women and children, to create thousands of widows and orphans do not do so in the name of Islam...For this tragedy, I humbly ask Mr. George and Dr. Grg Shaib, for their forgiveness....These two Christian men have come halfway around the world to show our Muslim children the light of education." He continued, "I request that America look into our hearts and see that the great majority of us are not terrorists, but good and simple people. Our land is stricken with poverty because we are without education. But, today, another candle of knowledge has been lit. In the name of Allah the Almighty, may it light our way out of the darkness we find ourselves in."
Each morning now when I do my morning devotions and prayer time, I light a candle. A candle to remind me that through God - Jehovah - Yahweh - Allah - all things are possible. I truly believe the work we are doing here in Afghanistan is another candle being lit to bring a nation into the light.
Peace,
Pastor Russ
Thursday, October 23, 2008
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