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When we arrived
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At mealtime, a couple of us from Prince of Peace sat down with two young adult women. Not sure of what kind of conversation would follow, I was delighted to find that these sisters were neighbors to our church and had gone to the high school down the block. One was a law student; the other a PhD student. We discovered a common interest in the meaning of fasting across religious traditions. I felt at ease asking questions about Muslim women and religious leadership. Our conversation was natural. The experience quickly morphed from feeling foreign to feeling familiar.
The very next day I was out walking with a college student catching up before she headed back to school. We passed one of the sisters on her jog. I hardly recognized her in the transformation from worship clothes to running clothes. We all stopped for a moment and chatted like neighbors. She is so...normal.
I sometimes get taken by surprise when I realize that I am among the religious. I mean, of course I know I am religious. But people unfamiliar with my tradition - and even those who are familiar - probably see me as different from them in a way I never think of myself.
I dress up in a fancy white robe and special clothes and lead rituals that must feel as foreign to some as the Iftar is to me. Yet I think of myself as normal, not as the odd one or the outsider. But of course in this neighborhood it is I - not those sisters - who is the foreigner. They've lived here for much longer.
Since we visited, so much has happened to change the world. Libyan rebels have gained power; the US economy has gone on free fall; The earth shifted under my feet in a historic east coast quake. And still, faithful Muslims around the world and in our neighborhoods are fasting and praying. I admire the faithfulness of that tradition. I have learned from it. And I am grateful to have been welcomed by my neighbors.