The other day I sat in a room to discuss why Muslim and
Jewish congregations are involved in the Global Interfaith Partnership, our
program that provides food and education opportunities for orphans and
vulnerable children in Kenya. The reason
for the question was to help our Duke interns understand why our religions
compel us to help in this situation when those helped are predominately
Christian. The answer was not
difficult. Both are faiths have examples
of people who worked to ameliorate the lives of people outside our traditions
as well as scriptural commands to do so.
The question I would ask is why more of us don’t help the person we see
as other?
That is not too difficult to answer in some cases, especially
with minority religions. As humans we
are more likely to give something up, be it money, time, food, or our life for
family first, tribe, country, faith, more so than for a stranger. This is part of human nature and in fact it
may be hardwired. That is why I believe
the great religions of the world emphasize the importance of helping the
stranger, because it is not easy. So
when it happens people take note. Nowhere
did I more note of this in my own heart was with a group of Muslim youth known
as SallamCorp, who worked to raise $10,000 a few years ago as part of our Kenya
Carnival fund raising. You see these
youth focused their understanding of what was expected of them by their faith
to help strangers. Out of that experience
I made good friends and found a form of solidarity with others, who like me,
struggle with how to focus our attention to those in need.
So yesterday brought some news that is hard for me to
process. As we were going to lunch one
of my colleagues mentioned a story in the news about a plane crash with a
father and son on an attempt to fly around the world. The local boy was from Plainfield and part of
a mosque we were familiar with through our multifaith activities. Minutes later came the email from my friend,
Shariq, who informed me who the boy was.
His name is Haris Suleman and he died when his plane crashed off the
coast of American Samoa. A 17 year old,
about the age of Noah, who was attempting to fly round-the-world to raise funds
for Citizens Foundation, a nonprofit organization that build schools in
Pakistan.
Haris was a member of that SalaamCorp and I remember his
energy, though quieter than the girls in the group, when it came to the work
for our Kenya Carnival. He died doing
what was close to his heart, helping others, and he will be missed not only for
what he did, but for the loss of potential that our future will never see.
In the world today many people are dying over hate. Throw a dart on the map of the land masses of
the world and you will strike within 100 miles of someone who will die today
because of hate. Those are the stories
that define this summer. Gun violence in
American cities like my own Indianapolis, Chicago, LA, or the continued fights
in the Middle East, terror in Africa and violent protests in Europe. We have become almost numb to mass shootings
where instead of stopping to take note the political voices run to microphones
to scream platitudes. So as Shabbat
draws near, as the closing days of July usher in the move toward a new school
year and as we think about the growing unrest that dominates our evening news
shows and the radio and TV screamers, let’s stop and think about the Haris
Suleman’s of the world. A young, Midwestern,
Muslim boy, an American teenager (who we are told are selfish and introverted
every day in the media) who lost his life trying to help those who can offer
him nothing. Except maybe the chance to
make strangers friends. Perhaps that is
what we should all strive for in our lives.
Perhaps we should all try to be a little more like Haris, and perhaps
that is the answer we can give people when they ask why Jews and Muslims would
join a group designed to help almost exclusively Christians. Because, the bottom line is, that is what you
do when you are fully human.
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