Shane Bennett

If you’ve been around Muslim Connect for more than a week or two, you probably know I have a soft spot in my heart (and probably my head) for refugees and other sorts of displaced peoples. 

Now we’re experiencing the very slightest introduction to that world. You may have read about an explosively growing wildfire in southern Colorado. Since Monday, we’d been watching, praying, hosting some early evacuees and assuming we’d stay at home until the fire was dealt with. 

Wednesday mid-day we watched the fires creep up and over the last ridge before our house (although still ~5 miles away). Soon our phones began to bark out commands to hit the road. We’d expected a comfortable time of pre-evac, but ended up hitting the road in 15 mins. 

Let me be clear: I’m not saying our situation is within a light-year of what most people experience when forced to flee. But I will say this: I feel more empathy for those who drive or walk away not knowing if their house, their life, will be there to return to. 

This afternoon my wife and I stood in a line at Disaster Services, waiting to register for the card that will eventually let us return to our house or the lot it used to stand on. I looked around and thought, “This is what people do, but in a language they don’t speak, without AC, with people who don’t want them around, with more fear and less hope than we had.”

May God have mercy on displaced people. Us for sure and our chunk of southern Colorado, but even more for people who leave with little hope of return and no end of challenge ahead. 

This is something no one is talking about: The sinfulness of eating sushi. Hear me out:

Sushi takes relatively plain, massively plentiful ingredients like rice, seaweed and artificial crab meat and simply rolls it up. Then, serving it with chopsticks, a wisp of ginger and a dollop of wasabi, proprietors charge an exorbitant, some would contend obscene, amount for it. 

Further, many forms of sushi contain shrimp, real crab meat and eel. People who abide by the dietary guidelines of Kosher eating, Islamic jurisprudence, the Bible and common sense just don’t eat that stuff. 

Finally, there are so many normal, good kinds of food to eat. Why should we disregard them for an odd, foreign so called “delicacy?”

I didn’t get you, did I? Of course, sushi is cool. Even if there is a shred of truth in the previous three paragraphs (and there is a shred!), it’s still fine if you enjoy sushi. The fact that I don’t like sushi (I understand the joy of sushi is simply lost on me.) doesn’t mean you shouldn’t. 

I say all that to say this: If you like Muslims, good for you. Don’t let people who don’t get it get you down. Granted, sometimes Muslims feel “odd and foreign” and yeah, there are plenty of “good, normal” people to hang out with, eat with, pray and advocate for. 

If people, even Christians, give you grief, send you reels, make stinky comments, let ‘em. Smile, if you can, and go about doing your best to follow Jesus. I’m all for you and God is too, just a million times more. 

Summer is here! To encourage a more laid back season and to thank you for reading Muslim Connect, I’m writing a few shorter editions—possibly also a little lighter than last week’s musings on Muslims, Christians, and the question of suffering and evil! 

Proverbs 17:22a says, “A joyful heart is good medicine.” I love to tell and be told jokes. Because I also love Muslims, when Muslims tell me jokes, that’s the best! 

Here are two Muslim comedians I’ve been laughing with today. (Tastes vary considerably. These guys are mostly clean, but if you find offense, I apologize.)

Nabil Abdulrashid is a huge Nigerian Muslim with a huge heart. Here’s a funny sample and this is a serious one. Nabil’s married to a Pakistani British woman and explains how that shapes their entertainment choices. 

Ola Labib is a Muslim comic of Sudanese background who is also a pharmacist for the UK’s National Health Service. (I know, you’ve seen that combo dozens of times!) She riffs on some NHS challenges and compares Sudan and Portsmouth, UK!

If you have a Muslim comic to recommend, I’d love to hear it!

Muslim World Cup-date!
Thirteen Muslim majority nations are competing in the World Cup. As of this writing, none have won a match. Six have played to a draw, including Iran, which ended 2-2 against New Zealand.

The rest of the thirteen lost their first match. Bosnia Herzegovina and Qatar have now lost their second match! I would love to see Jordan win a match or two in their first-ever World Cup. Do you have a favorite?

You’ve heard the question right? You’ve probably wrestled with it deeply yourself: If God is all powerful and all good and loving, why does bad stuff happen?

Since Muslims and Christians have similar convictions regarding the first two propositions, you’d expect we’d find some commonality of response to the question. And you would be right. 

(Let me be plain here: Addressing this in 300 words is ridiculous! Please go here and here for a more thorough look at Islam and suffering.) 

Here are five ways theologians throughout history, both those academically trained and those simply mourning dry fields and rains that never came, have answered this question.

God is smarter than me.
He says as much himself in Isaiah 55:8-9. A drifting-from-faith friend once mockingly discounted, “My ways are higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts,” but any reasonable understanding of God surely includes realization that we can’t completely understand God. 

God allows people to choose.
People have free will and will often exercise it selfishly and stupidly. Raise your hand if you’ve seen an example of this. How about if you have been an example of this?

God is testing me.
Muslims tend to carry this more than Christians, at least Christians in our current, Western generation. 

It gets better later.
Followers of both Islam and Christianity throughout history have held on through the most brutal and trying times by looking forward to life beyond this life. 

God is with me.
Christians can rejoice in this in ways Islam forbids Muslims to. In Christ, the transcendent God we both speak of stepped into human reality and suffered in ways both familiar to us and beyond our comprehension. 

As a pastor and mobilizer, that last one speaks to me today: It’s medicine I hope will comfort my parishioner I’ll visit in the hospital today, but one Muslims have left on the pharmacy shelf, forsaking Christ and the healing, help and life he has for them. 

We celebrate our church’s 20th Anniversary this weekend! There will be food, memories, video greetings from those who couldn’t attend and possibly some grateful tears. This time of gratitude and remembering has me in “looking back mode” in a lot of ways. 

I remember arriving at the airport in Istanbul with my summer team and what seemed like a million people returning from the Hajj, dressed in white abayas, looking like ghosts milling about, waiting for their luggage. 

I remember the pleasure with which a couple in California shared the sense of cleanness and forgiveness they experienced upon completing the pilgrimage. 

I imagine the couple million people now returning, or just returned, from the Hajj. They’ve completed the pinnacle of their religion’s requirements. They have done the things most likely to merit them forgiveness for their sins and shortcomings. What do they head home to?

Some certainly to husbands who still haven’t found a job. Some to weary wives and kids with colds. Many to friends and families who don’t find their Hajj stories as interesting as they’d hoped. 

I suppose many didn’t even make it off the plane before they sinned in a way they couldn’t deny: They lied, they stole, they coveted. Whatever. The aura, the illusion, of being clean vanished.

My heart goes out to them. What do you do when you’ve done the thing, but the effect didn’t last? Start booking next year’s Hajj? I don’t know. I do hope many will hear what Jesus wants to say to them. At least part of that is this, “You burdened? Carrying a heavy load? C’mere. I will give you rest. I’ve done all it for you.” 

For most of my life, I’ve approached language learning like this: 1. Get about ten words in as many languages as possible. 2. Learn them by parroting native speakers. 3. Use them to find people who speak the only language I’m fluent in, English. 

That’s not the best approach for everyone, but it has opened the door for some amazing conversations. For my fellow “shallow end of the language pool” people, I offer you a quick way to say “Hi” or “How are you” in six of the languages most spoken by Muslims. 

(Caveats: 1. There are regional variations that may render some of these suggestions unintelligible. 2. You shouldn’t learn language from an old white guy who only speaks English.)

Arabic (~350 million)
“As-salām ʿalaykum” means “peace be upon you” and is the standard Muslim greeting not only in the Arabic speaking world, but beyond. The usual response is, “wa ʿalaykum as-salām.” Basically, “Back atcha, Bruh.”

“Keif halak” is the “howzit” equivalent that works pretty good in Jordan. YMMV.

Indonesian/Malay (~150 million. No, they’re not the same language, but kind of!) 
“Apa kabar” is a good way to informally ask someone how they are. Respond with “kabar baik” to say you’re doing well. If you want to sound local, try responding with “jalan jalan,” which literally means “walking, walking,” but carries the connotation of “just hanging.” 

Bengali (~190 million)
“Kemon achho” means roughly “how are you?” I’ve found if I run together the English words, “Common nacho,” it will usually communicate! “Bhalo achi” is a good way to reply, “I’m fine.” (Full disclosure: I usually follow this up with, “I’ll take a large order of samosas, please.”)

Urdu (~90 million)
“Aap kaise hain?” is a good way to ask “How are you doing?” in Urdu. Responding with “Alhamdulillah,” (Praise God) is a way to answer the question and exalt God at the same time! 

Turkic (~170 million)
“Merhaba” is a great way to say hello in Turkish and beyond. Follow that up with “nasılsınız” to ask how someone is. “Iiym” means fine or go big with “Alhamdulillah” again.

Persian (~120 million)
Iranians/Persians will understand “Salam” as a normal, everyday greeting. Asking, “Chetori,” is a good “howzit” follow up. 

Give this a try: Combine a dose of courage with a smidge of humility and who knows what God might open up. 

Muslim Connect readers fall neatly into three categories: 1. Those who don’t know what the Kaaba is. 2. Those who know what it is, but very little else about it. 3. And those who know so much, they should probably skip this email and pray for the rest of us. . .in Arabic! 

The Kaaba is the building at the center of the Grand Mosque in Mecca, Saudi Arabia. It’s a key component of the annual Hajj pilgrimage, which ~2 million people will make next week, as well as the direction to which all Muslims face when performing the five daily prayers. 

Adam and Sons Construction Company
Tradition has it that Adam built the original Kaaba, but God asked Abraham and Ishmael to rebuild it on the original foundation. So it goes back in time a minute! It pre-dates Islam and was used for a variety of idol worship.

Rehab It, Again
As you’d guess, the Kaaba that Muslims are marching around right now is not completely the same as the one Abraham (?!) built. Between the ravages of time, weather and marauding bandits, the Kaaba has needed extensive rehab at various intervals. The latest major renovation was conducted in the late 1990s. 

Wait! There’s an Inside to the Kaaba?
OK, you probably knew this. Gotta confess, I didn’t! It’s actually a mostly-cubic building, measuring 42’ x 36’ x 43’ high. The interior is ornate, beautiful and very much off limits to almost everyone! 

Kiss Me . . . or at least point at me!
Mounted on the eastern corner of the Kaaba are the remnants of a rock reportedly descended from Heaven. Muslims believe that Muhammad was instrumental in putting the stone where it currently is and that he both kissed it and pointed to it. They do both in imitation of him.

Circle Smart
I’ve heard of this exchange (It might not be entirely true!): 

Muslim One: “It’s a good idea to be close to the Kaaba when doing your seven laps around it.”

Muslim Two: “I see. Is this to show respect and be close to the holy place?”

Muslim One: “No! It’s so you don’t have to walk as far! Each circle is so much smaller!”

While Hindus get credit for inventing the early prototype of chess, Muslims really launched it forward after they conquered Persia in the mid-600s AD. They standardized their stylized version of the pieces and wrote some of the earliest chess books. Traders took the game west to Spain and beyond. 

Centuries later, many of the best chess players in the world are Muslims. At 21 years of age, an Uzbek named Nodirbek Abdusattorov is the number-4 player in the world. All eyes are also on Yagiz Kaan Erdogmus, a 14-year-old Turkish teenager who is currently 32nd in the world. 

Here’s where the mess comes in: Islamic scholars throughout the centuries have tended to say chess is haram or forbidden. It doesn’t show up in the Quran, but the Hadith has something to say about it. The reasoning generally goes like this:

1. Gambling is bad and chess might involve gambling. But it usually doesn’t. 
2. Chess pieces could be seen as little idols, especially knights that usually resemble horses. Some scholars say this can be overcome by putting hoods on the horses!
3. Chess might distract you from God, from prayers, worship and other good works. I think the scholars have something here! Of course, I have never put off my wife, children or godly duties for a chess game. But I can imagine how that might happen! 😉

As in last week’s Muslim Connect on marriage, chess is another point where the scholars’ rules are not always lived out. The fact that there is a Saudi Chess Federation is one solid data point. 

If you play chess, and why wouldn’t you, let’s let Muslims sort out the haram/halal issues with it. In the meantime, follow my friend Kelly’s example: Get an account on chess.com, start playing games (the 3-minute version goes by quickly), and when you get matched up with an opponent from a Muslim country (each profile shows a small flag!), reach out and start a conversation! Let me know how it goes if you try this or have questions. 

Need a bed time story for a child or grandkid? You can hardly beat the biblical narrative of Joseph’s life from Genesis 37 to 50. But, heads up: You’ll want to skip over the PG-13 Judah/Tamar interlude in Genesis 38! 

This scandalous story has it all: Family drama, sex, power shifts and a fairly happy ending. In preparing preach to on it this Sunday, I’ve done a medium dive into the idea of levirate marriage, the social custom at the center of the Tamar and Judah vignette.

The idea is that a brother-in-law (Latin: levir) has family responsibility to marry the widow of a brother who dies. This serves to keep land and wealth in the clan and provides protection for widows who might otherwise be out in the wind. It also tends to fade in inverse proportion to female literacy! 

I wondered if levirate marriage is, or was, found in Muslim cultures. Turns out the Quran and the Hadith forbid compelling anyone to marry someone else. In one case, Muhammad told a dad who’d married off his daughter that she got to choose! (Oddly, she said she was cool with the marriage, just wanted to know if she had a say!) If everyone is ok with it, a brother-in-law can step up to the plate for his dead sibling. 

In spite of the evidence against levirate marriage in Islam, it has been practiced, at least until recently, in a variety of Muslim people groups. This illustrates the tension between cultural practices and orthodox Islam. As in Christianity, sometimes the words of the book are easier to know than to practice. 

What if you’re eating potato chips three meals a day? What if you’re only offered potato chips for snacks at school or work and when you relax in the evening? And what if all the cool, beautiful and powerful people are eating potato chips? Even if you occasionally snuck a piece of broccoli (a step in the right direction), you’re still going to be sick and oily.

Something has been bothering me for a bit: How does US military action against Muslims affect my psyche, my kids, maybe even the broad sweep of American culture?

The question right now isn’t the degree to which military actions are justified or moral, although such ideas merit consideration. Rather, how do those actions affect us?

Here are some gut-churning realities:

1. The US has been at war with Muslim countries for most of my adult life. If we pin Operation Desert Storm in 1990 as the starting point, around half of the US population has known hardly a day in which we were not fighting Muslims.
2. If you’re going to keep fighting Muslims and keep getting elected (Both sides have done this!), you must portray Muslims as evil, enemies and wholly “other.”
3. The “potato chips everywhere” metaphor is this: We used to take action against Communism (We still do a little.). We used to engage in war on drugs (We still do some.). But for over half my life it’s been Muslims! They’ve been enemies on the battlefield. They’ve been villains in movies and books. They’ve been the boogie man, the dirty, sneaky savages in countless efforts to gain or retain political positions. A piece of broccoli here and there will not do the trick.

Shame on us and God have mercy. 

Is this because of Israel and our desire to protect that country? It is the oil? Is it because they’re are easy to identify and caricaturize? Probably all that and more. 

What are we to do?

For starters: Be the broccoli. Read and share the counter-narrative, starting with Jesus and going on from there. And ask God for a new day, not a new villain. We’ve had so many over our short history. But a fresh light inside and going forth from our country so that the glow from the “city on a hill” is the love of Christ, not the flash of a muzzle or the launch of a missile.