Wednesday, February 6, 2008
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Conversion #16
How Anne Came To Islam
By: Hayat Anne Collins Osman
From devoted Christian to devoted Muslim...
I was raised in a religious Christian family. At that time, Americans were more religious than they are now—most families went to church every Sunday, for example. My parents were involved in the church community. We often had ministers (Protestant “priests”) in the house. My mother taught in Sunday school, and I helped her.
I must have been more religious than other children, although I don’t remember being so. For one birthday, my aunt gave me a Bible, and my sister a doll. Another time, I asked my parents for a prayer book, and I read it daily for many years.
When I was in junior high school (middle school), I attended a Bible study program for two years. Up to this point, I had read some parts of the Bible, but had not understood them very well. Now was my chance to learn.
Unfortunately, we studied many passages in the Old and New Testament that I found inexplicable, even bizarre.
For example, the Bible teaches an idea called Original Sin, which means that humans are all born sinful. I had a baby brother, and I knew that babies were not sinful.
The Bible has very strange and disturbing stories about Prophet Abraham and Prophet David, for example. I couldn’t understand how prophets could behave the way the Bible says they did.
There were many, many other things that puzzled me about the Bible, but I didn't ask questions. I was afraid to ask—I wanted to me known as a “good girl.”
Al-hamdulillah, there was a boy who asked, and kept asking.
The most critical matter was the notion of Trinity. I couldn’t get it. How could God have three parts, one of which was human? Having studied Greek and Roman mythology at school, I thought the idea of the Trinity and powerful human saints very similar to the Greek and Roman ideas of having different so-called “gods” that were in charge of different aspects of life. (Astaghfir-Ullah!)
The boy who asked, asked many questions about Trinity, received many answers, and was never satisfied. Neither was I. Finally, our teacher, a University of Michigan Professor of Theology, told him to pray for faith.
I prayed.
When I was in high school, I secretly wanted to be a nun. I was drawn to the pattern of offering devotions at set times of day, of a life devoted entirely to God, and of dressing in a way that declared my religious lifestyle.
An obstacle to this ambition, though, was that I wasn’t Catholic. I lived in a midwestern town where Catholics were a distinct, and unpopular minority! Furthermore, my protestant upbringing had instilled in me a distaste for religious statuary, and a healthy disbelief that dead saints had the ability to help me.
In college, I continued to think and pray. Students often talk and argue about religion, and I heard many different ideas. Like Yusuf Islam, I studied the Eastern so-called religions: Buddhism, Confucianism, and Hinduism. No help there.
I met a Muslim from Libya, who told me a little about Islam and the Holy Qur’an. He told me that Islam is the modern, most up-to-date form of revealed religion. Because I thought of Africa and the Middle East as backwards places, I couldn’t see Islam as modern.
My family took this Libyan brother to a Christmas church service. The service was breathtakingly beautiful, but at the end, he asked, “Who made up this procedure? Who taught you when to stand and bow and kneel? Who taught you how to pray?”
I told him about early Church history, but his question made me angry at first, and later made me think.
Had the people who designed the worship service really been qualified to do so? How had they known the form that worship should take? Had they had divine instruction?
I knew that I did not believe in many of the teachings of Christianity, but continued to attend church. When the congregation recited pieces I believed to be blasphemous, such as the Nicene Creed, I was silent—I didn’t recite them. I felt almost alien in church, almost a stranger
Horror! Someone very close to me, having dire marital problems, went to a curate of our church for advice. Taking advantage of her pain and self-loathing, he took her to a motel and seduced her.
Up to this point, I had not considered carefully the role of the clergy in Christian life. Now I had to. Most Christians believe that forgiveness comes through the “Holy Communion” service, and that the service must be conducted by an ordained priest or minister. No minister, no absolution.
I went to church again, and sat and looked at the ministers in front. They were no better than the congregation—some of them were worse. How could it be true that the agency of a man, of any human being, was necessary for communion with God? Why couldn’t I deal with God directly, and receive His absolution directly?
Soon after this, I found a translation of the meaning of the Qur’an in a bookstore, bought it, and started to read it. I read it, off and on, for eight years. During this time, I continued to investigate other religions.
I grew increasingly aware of and afraid of my sins. How could I know whether God would forgive me? I no longer believed that the Christian model, the Christian way of being forgiven, would work.
My sins weighed heavily on me, and I didn’t know how to escape the burden of them.
I longed for forgiveness.
I read in the Qur’an,
“…nearest among them in love to the Believers you will find those who say, ‘We are Christian': Because amongst them are Men devoted to learning, and men who have renounced the world and are not arrogant.
"And when they listen to the revelation received by the Messenger, you will see their eyes overflowing with tears, for they recognize the truth. They pray, ‘Our Lord! We believe. Write us down among the witnesses.'
“’What cause can we have not to believe in Allah and the truth which has come to us, seeing that we long for our Lord to admit us to the company of the righteous?”
--The Holy Qur’an
Chapter 5, the Table
verses 82-84.
I saw Muslims praying on the TV news, and wanted to learn how. I found a book (by a non-Muslim) that described it, and I tried to do it myself. (I knew nothing of Taharah -- ritural purity -- and did not pray correctly.) I prayed in my own strange, desperate way, secretly and alone, for several years. I memorized some parts of the Qur'an in English, not knowing that Muslims memorize the Qur'an in Arabic.
Finally, after eight years of reading the Qur’an, I found this verse::
“This day have I perfected your religion for you, completed My favor for you, and chosen Islam as your religion.”
--The Holy Qur’an
Chapter 5, the Table
verse 3
-
I wept for joy, because I knew that, way back in time, before the creation of the Earth, Allah had written this Qur’an for me. Allah had known that Anne Collins, in Cheektowaga, NY, USA, would read this verse of the Qur’an in May 1986, and be saved.
Now, I knew that there were many things I had to learn, for example, how to offer the formal Muslim prayer. The problem was that I didn’t know any Muslims.
Muslims are much more visible in the US now than they were then. I didn’t know where to find them.
I found the phone number of the Islamic Society in the phone book, and dialed it, but when a man answered, I panicked and hung up. What was I going to say? How would they answer me? Would they be suspicious? Why would they want me, when they had each other and their Islam?
In the next couple of months, I called the mosque a number of times, and each time panicked and hung up.
Finally, I did the cowardly thing: I wrote a letter asking for information.
The kindly, patient brother at the mosque phoned me, and then started sending me pamphlets about Islam.
I told him I wanted to be Muslim, but he told me, “Wait until you are sure.”
It upset me that he told me to wait, but I knew he was right, that I had to be sure because, once I had accepted Islam, nothing would ever be the same again.
I became obsessed with Islam. I thought about it, day and night. On several occasions, I drove to the mosque (at that time, it was in an old converted house) and circled it many times, hoping to see a Muslim, wondering what it was like inside.
Finally, one day in early November 1986, as I was working in the kitchen, I suddenly knew, knew that I was Muslim. Still a coward, I sent the mosque another letter. It said, “I believe in Allah, the One True God, I believe that Muhammad was his Messenger, and I want to be counted among the witnesses.”
The brother called me on the phone the next day, and I said my shahadah* on the phone to him. He told me then that Allah had forgiven all my sins at that moment, and that I was as pure as a newborn baby.
I felt the burden of sin slip off my shoulders, and wept for joy. I slept little that night, weeping, and repeating Allah’s name.
Forgiveness had been granted. Alhamdulillah.
*The statement a person makes when accepting Islam (and many times a day thereafter: I testify that there is no deity other than Allah, and I testify that Muhammad (s.a.w.) was a messenger of Allah.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Friday, January 25, 2008
Conversion #14
An Austrian Scientist Discovers Islam
By: Amina Islam
Born 1953 in the town Linz in Austria, I spent my
childhood in Munich (Germany) until we moved to
Salzburg (Austria) when I was 16 years old. I grew up
in a conservative Christian way. My parents are strict
Protestant Christians, which believe in the Bible and
pray to Jesus as son of God. They educated me to keep
a high standard of morals and ethics.
After I had finished high school, I started to study
biology and in parallel, to work in a half-day job,
both at the university of Salzburg.
Since I did not participate in any Christian
activities of the Protestant church, my parents
arranged for me to get in touch with an evangelic free
church, the Baptist community (a very big and powerful
Christian church in the USA). I became an active
member and even a leader of a student group. I studied
the Bible several times and believed in the dogmas of
Jesus being son and part of God, and of the salvation
of all people and the reconciliation with God only by
his death on cross. At this time, I didn’t scrutinize
the Bible carefully enough to recognize that this was
not taught by Jesus in his gospel. But some years
later, still in the same community, I was beginning to
have my doubts and I could no longer accept this
foundation of Christian faith and religion, which
contradicted my reasoning. Although I was repeatedly
told that this is God’s mystery and a matter of faith
and not of intellect, I insisted that I could only
believe that Jesus is a human being and a prophet with
a special relation to God, who demonstrated the right
way to God by his life and teachings.
I got married with a man from the Baptist church and I
finished my studies achieving the doctorate. Two
children and a divorce later I left the Baptist
church, also due to my doubts concerning the
foundation of Christianity.
I had to search for a full time job, since I was alone
responsible for my children, but al-hamdu lillah I got
a very good employment in research and student
teaching in my field at the university of Salzburg. I
was content to earn my own money to ensure financial
independency from all other people.
I got married a second time and I started to deal with
esoteric philosophies. I was still in search of truth.
The second marriage was again turning into a disaster
and I was divorced a second time. Similar as in the
first case, the reason for divorce was that my husband
took advantage of my position, money and my desire for
harmony. He didn’t support me with any financial,
practical or even psychological help or care for the
children. But at this time, I was already independent
with a sound basis in my life: I had a position as
university professor and great responsibility for my
work.
Since I had not found happiness in my private life,
but was constantly overloaded with double work, job,
children and household, I suffered form exhaustion
depressions for some years. I only kept going in life
due to my children and my work.
After the second divorce I lived together with a much
younger man for 9 years without being married, as it
is usual in the western world. When he left me for a
younger woman, I started to re-arrange my life as
single, without expecting to find a man again. I had a
good job, grown-up children, a nice apartment, a car,
and hobbies like mountain climbing or skiing and did
not miss anything in practical life. I could stand on
my own two feet. But I was not giving up the search of
truth.
My knowledge about Islam at this time was only a bad
prejudice generated by Christians and the media. I
never got in contact with the religion and I didn’t
want to get in touch with people from this—how it
seemed to me—“frightening and rigid” religion.
This was the situation in September 2002, when I was
persuaded by a friend to spend a week of holidays in
an all-inclusive hotel. We had to book a last-minute
flight and found a very cheap offer for Egypt. My
intention was to relax, to return to my inner balance
and maybe came closer to the truth. The only affair I
was not at all interested in, was to meet a man.
It was on the first evening in the very beautiful
hotel and I went to the buffet for dinner, when I saw
Walid for the first time, a cook in the hotel and my
later husband. When our eyes met, I fell in love.
Walid told me later that the same happened to him. We
didn’t communicate for two more days until Walid
started writing letters. One of the first suggestions
he proposed to me was that we should marry. The rest
of the week I couldn’t make up my mind for my
prejudices and many doubts in my head or for the deep
affection in my heart. Then I returned home to Austria
with not more than the handy number of one of his
friends. I realized soon that the apparent barriers
due to the differences between us (age, culture,
religion, education and language) existed only in my
head. This was the opinion of the society but not my
own experience. I planned to return to Egypt two
months later to give our love a chance. The only real
problem was the poor communication.
Allah started now visibly guiding my life. Some days
after my return to Austria, a woman from Egypt started
working as guest scientist in my institute for the
duration of one year. Two weeks later I began to visit
an Arabic language course at the university offered by
a professor from Egypt. Being good Muslims they taught
me both a lot about Islam, their culture and the
Arabic language, which I intended to learn for better
communication with Walid.
Interested to know more about Islam, I bought many
books and a good Qur'an translation (from Murad
Hofmann, a German ambassador, who converted to Islam
earlier). I was amazed how good my idea of God and the
world was reflected by the holy Qur'an. I found
extensive conformity with the “old testament” and in
the “new testament” with the gospel of Jesus, but
without the church-made dogma that Jesus is regarded
as son of God.
At my second visit in Egypt, I found out that Walid is
a very serious man from a large family of farmers,
which we visited together. On the first evening, we
married with a local but not international contract
(Orfi), which protected us at least against the police
and fulfilled the Islamic law that no common activity
should be carried out between man and woman outside
marriage. After this trip I traveled three more times
to Egypt, until we could officially marry in Cairo,
and again two more times until we had the visa for
Walid. Now he could come with me to Austria, more than
one year after we met the first time.
During this year I gradually learned things about
Islam by reading books and by the help of my Muslim
friends in Austria. Surprisingly I was also contacted
by the Cairo University as a referee of a thesis work.
Under the several Egyptian scientists, whom I met from
now on each time when I visited Egypt, I won one good
Muslimah as a close friend. I was impressed that many
Muslims including young people—even those who are not
very strict in their religion—speak openly and
respectfully about Allah and Islam.
As soon as my husband came to Austria, we contacted
the mosque in Salzburg and I received and bought more
books. Two of them, the book of Maurice Bucaille
“Bible, Qur'an and Natural Sciences”, which proves
that all scientific statements in the holy Qur'an are
in consents with the latest research, and the “Gospel
of Barnabas”, where Jesus announces the prophet
Muhammad and refuses to be revered as God, opened my
eyes.
The holy Qur'an confirmed not only my idea about God
and the world, but all his statements, e.g. about
natural sciences, did obviously not contradict the
reality. I was allowed and even encouraged to use my
logic! I discovered that Islam is not a new religion,
but a “re-animation” of the roots and the essential of
the old religions of the Jews and Christians, with the
first Muslim Abraham as the father of all monotheistic
religions and with the same prophets, including Jesus.
The last prophet Muhammad—not accepted by the other
religions—was used by Allah to repeat the old truth
again and to announce new regulations. The holy Qur'an
must be God’s revelation and Muhammad his messenger!
If this is the truth and I believe this, I have to
accept the holy Qur'an as a whole including the law. I
hesitated to make the step of conversion to Islam
only, because I knew that this implies to keep the
rules, accept restrictions for my life (e.g. no
alcohol, no pork) and behave in a way not
contradicting the holy Qur'an and the Sunnah [editor's
note: Sunnah means the collection of the Prophet's
deeds].
At the beginning of the past Ramadan 2004, Walid asked
me, whether I wanted to do the last step and convert.
I accepted to make this in my house. We invited
several brothers and sisters and I spoke the shahadah
[editor's note: shahadah means Testimony of Faith]. I
had already learned how to pray and started praying as
regular as possible. Of course, I was fasting in
Ramadan.
I am very happy to belong to the Ummah of Muslims
[editor's note: Ummah means nation]. I try to grow in
faith for Allah and knowledge about Islam and to
fulfill the law as good as possible.
Still two major problems are left. Although my parents
know my opinion about Islam, I cannot tell them that I
am converted. They are old and sick and the truth
could do harm to them. The other problem: I cannot yet
wear a veil in work and in areas, where I am known.
Although in Austria Islam is an accepted religion, the
society has problems to accept Muslims and especially
the veil as symbol. Due to my public duties I would
get many disadvantages and problems in work, affecting
especially my working group in the university.
On the other side, I use each opportunity to talk
about Islam. I try to live as a good Muslimah, to
practice Islam and give a good example.
Allah finally helped me to find the right way in my
search of the truth, al-hamdu lillah.
Conversion #12
An American Teenager Discovers Islam
By: Valerie Wright
I could say that my journey to Islam began before I was even aware of it. I was born with a progressive hearing loss. My mother did not realize that I had difficulties hearing until I was 4 years old. Once it was discovered, I received my first hearing aids, and began attending a school where hearing and deaf children were integrated.
At first I was placed in classes that contained only deaf children. Then I began to attend some classes with hearing children, and I had a teacher come to help me learn how to integrate. I felt at home there. I did not realize that I was being prepared to leave the school and go to a mainstream public school.
Once I changed schools, I had a very difficult time adjusting. My constant moves to different homes also compounded the issue. Finally, in middle school, I encountered some stability. I lived in a very small Texas town called Wylie. When I was about 12 years old, my English teacher was special: She was from Turkey. Now, anyone who knows Wylie knows that in those days this was extremely unusual.
The teacher had come to my small town on an exchange program. Of course she never spoke with my class about religion, but it was enough at the time just knowing her. She got us involved in a pen pal project with students from Turkey. My pen pal's name was Yasemin. I still have a card she sent me, with a picture of mosques and churches side by side. The significance of this was not apparent to me at the time, but it was just one among many signs that God had chosen for me.
During this period of my life, I yearned to be close to God, to please Him, and to receive His love. I became very involved in the church of my grandfather. He and his siblings were raised as Pentecostals, and both his father and his brother were preachers.
Every afternoon I would come home from school and play the piano. I played it for God and for myself to feel peace. I was taught that praise for God rises to heaven like the smell of sweet incense. I would imagine this as I was playing. Sometimes I would sing a little along with the music, although the music usually expressed my intense feelings more than my words ever could.
One day, I felt God's presence in the room with me. It was immense and overwhelming. The air felt extremely heavy with the awesomeness and majesty of His Being. I suddenly stopped singing, and my fingers froze over the piano. I began to shake. I did not know what to do. Then, slowly, by instinct (or, I should rather say by the guidance of God), I turned away from the piano and prostrated on my knees and my head.
Trembling and longing flooded my soul. Flummoxed for words, I simply thought, "God, please anoint me. Make me special. Make me serve You." I remained prostrating for a few more minutes, then, with a deep breath, I got up and resumed my other usual activities.
Another time around this same period of my life, I was at my school where parents and students had gathered for an academic awards assembly. My name was called, and I went up to receive my award. Afterward, my mother told me about something strange that had happened. She said, "While you were walking up to take your award, a strange woman came to me, someone I don't know. She said, 'I just feel that when I look at your daughter I have to tell you that God has a plan for her.'" I wondered for the longest time what His plan for me could possibly be.
I was feeling depressed by the many restrictions of the Pentecostal Church then. I couldn't comprehend their purpose very clearly. I also was quite disturbed by things I would read in the Bible, and when I asked about them, I did not get satisfactory answers. In fact, my questions were met with disapproval. So my mother and I started attending a different church together and, again, on two separate occasions, two different strangers approached my mother and told her that God had a plan for me.
I recall that I requested a private meeting with a preacher to discuss something. One of the questions I asked him was, "Am I going to heaven?" "Well, do you believe in Jesus?" he asked. "Ye-e-e-s ... ," I answered. "Then you are going to heaven," he said. Inside myself I was not satisfied with his answer. I felt doubtful. Summer came, and I went to church camp, where two momentous events occurred.
First, the preacher who was speaking to us told all of the youth who were present to come to the front of the room if they wanted him to pray for them. "If you feel like you have any barriers between you and God, and you want me to pray that those barriers will be removed so you can get closer to God, come up," he said. I was among many others who formed a line in the front. We stood up, and he started to place his hand on each person's forehead and make a supplication. That's when something very odd happened: They all fell flat on their backs without even bending their knees, like dominoes! I began to feel a trifle nervous. "What's happening?" I wondered.
The preacher came to me. He slapped his hand on my forehead and pushed me a little. I rocked on my feet and remained standing, while he went on down the line and the others continued to fall. At the end, only a few of us were still standing. I was left wondering what had happened to those who fell and why I was different. Had I missed out on something?
Another experience happened when the preacher of my youth class was giving a very emotional lesson to hundreds of young people. Then unexpectedly he looked directly at me and said, "Valerie, stand up." I stood, and he continued, "I want you to know that God wants to heal your ears." He thought he was moved by the "Holy Spirit" to say this with authority.
He placed his hands over my ears and prayed. Nothing happened. I was very embarrassed. The following Sunday, one of the students in my class asked him why, if anything was possible in the name of Christ, sometimes prayers weren't answered. The preacher did not look at me, but he threw a pen in my general direction. "God answers prayers," he replied, "but sometimes people do not have enough faith to receive it." My mother and I were of course very upset by this, and we left that church.
I drifted for a while, not really attending any church on a regular basis. I felt lost. I felt that I kept failing, and that somehow I was getting it all wrong. I knew I could never be perfect, but I still did not feel all right. An indefinable sensation always lingered in the back of my mind.
When I was 15, I went to live with my father. I stayed with him for two and a half years, and during that time I became regularly involved in a Methodist church. I also sometimes attended the Baptist church that my stepmother went to. At each church that I visited, I always felt that something was missing. And even though everyone was friendly to me, I always felt that I did not belong among those people, especially my age peers. Still, it never occurred to me to look for another religion.
When I was 17, I had a dream one night. I was standing beside a green bush with small leaves and small yellow flowers. An angel swooshed before me, but I couldn't see it, except for a kind of clear outline of its form or energy. It gathered a bouquet of the yellow flowers for me. The flowers sparkled. Then the angel picked me up and carried me to a special place. Because I could not see the angel, I saw everything around me as if I were flying.
I entered a place where the sun shone, filtered through a light mist. At first I saw tall grass swaying and trees with large maroon leaves. As we proceeded, the grass became shorter, and there were trees with very bright red, pink, and white flowers with small black centers. The flowers were profuse; they covered the branches and the trunks, even the ground at their bases. The next trees were some kind of evergreen trees.
As I turned and looked around, I saw a rectangular patch of cultivated land in the distance to my right. It seemed that some very tall herbs were growing there. I saw another, smaller rectangle of purple irises. Beside them was a wooden house. The angel carried me around the house once, so that I could see that it was in the shape of a perfect square. The angel put me down, and we entered.
Inside were many adults and children, all of them quite happy. They left as we entered to give us privacy. We entered a small reception area where there were two couches and a small Japanese style table between them. There appeared an old woman with white hair tied up in a bun and a long black dress with a white lacy collar. She gestured that I should make myself comfortable and asked if I would like a drink. After I had settled, she began to speak to me, telling me things about my future (none of which I remember). She concluded by saying, "You have to make some changes in your life first." I felt very afraid of these words, for I wasn't sure whether I was strong enough. I turned to the angel and said, "I don't know if I can do it." Then it lifted me up and threw me in the air, where the dream ended.
Near the end of the school year, I was at a good-bye party for one of my foreign exchange friends. One girl's mother came to me. I knew the girl as a friend, but I had never seen the mother before. She told me, "When my daughter speaks about you, I get such a feeling of joy and happiness in my heart, and I feel a strong need to tell you that God has a plan for you."
Some time passed, and I was almost ready to graduate from high school. That was when I met some Muslims and had real in-depth contact with them. They did not practice their religion, but there was something I liked about their interactions with each other. There seemed to be a mutual feeling between them that was stronger than any I had seen between any people before. They also spoke Arabic with each other a lot of the time, and I wished to understand what they were saying. So I determined to find an Arabic class and surprise them.
The only classes I found that suited my schedule were given at a local mosque, so I went there. I never learned much Arabic, but the sisters in the mosque taught me about Islam. For every big, deep question I had, they provided me with very simple, logical, and profound answers. I felt within myself that Islam was a religion I could accept. So on my 19th birthday, I officially declared my Shahadah. After saying it, I leapt up with joy, my arms in the air. "Yes!" I am a Muslim now, praise God.
After becoming Muslim, I felt much more at peace with my spiritual foundation. My family was quite upset at first, but they never stopped speaking with me or reaching out to me with love. Some of them have come to understand a little more about Islam and have become more comfortable and accepting of my decision. All praise be to Allah.
Through its life-permeating system, Islam has affected the decisions I make in life. Islam is not just a "Sunday-feel-good affair." I don't doubt that some sincere Christians make the effort to practice their religion in their daily lives, but Islam has a much more comprehensive set of guidelines to follow. Everything I do comes with an awareness that I will be held accountable for my actions and that I need to constantly ask for Allah's forgiveness. Islam has given me the purpose in life that I had been seeking. It is one of the few things I am passionate about. Before Islam, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. One of my great wishes is that I can help another person become Muslim. That still has yet to happen.
