Faith?
What do any of us know about faith anyway?
When
I went to Iraq the first time I took the only piece of religion I'd ever owned
with me. It was a simple gold cross on a chain. But I
didn't wear it; I carried it with me in my bag. (Those who know me
understand why I carried it instead of wore it.) My best friend and
spiritual brother, Randy, gave it to me when we were 18. He'd always been
a believer but I never had the faith he seemed to posses in quantities ample
enough for the both of us. So when I went to the land of Allah I figured
it may serve me well to take the only symbol of Christianity I had ever owned.
It wasn't genuine faith; it was simply a perceived defense I imagined
would protect me from the coming Muslim threat.
My
interpreter and friend, Fadhil, was a devout Muslim. I learned more about
his faith during my time with him than from any other source before or
since. He was very insightful, and much wiser than his youth
portrayed. I spent almost a year working side by side with him and a
genuine friendship grew from the experience. Probably the most lasting
impression I took away from that relationship was a new found belief that the
same God exists in every man's heart, regardless of the manner in which
we choose to worship Him.
When
I was finally transferred to northern Iraq for work I had to say goodbye to my
friend. On our second to last day together he presented me with a
gift. It was a simple silver charm on a chain. Inscribed on the charm was
a common Muslim verse from The Quran called "The Throne Verse."
That's what it's called in English, but the words written on the charm
were Arabic. They read:
"Allah,
there is no God but He, the Living and Self Sustaining. Neither slumber
nor sleep overtakes Him. Unto Him belongs all that is in the heavens and
on the earth. Who is there that can intercede with Him save by His leave?
He knows what is in front of them and what is behind them, while they
encompass nothing of His knowledge except what He wills. His throne extends
over the heavens and the earth, and He is never weary of preserving them.
He is The Most High, The Magnificent."
Fadhil knew this verse by heart and recited it to me as I looked at the Arabic words on the little charm. I was very touched, to say the least. His gesture was so significant that it's hard for me to explain it today, so I won't even try. Being so moved by my friend's kindness I felt naturally a need to return the gesture in kind. So the next day, which was our last together, I wore my cross. When we were alone together I briefly explained its story, where it came from, who had given it to me, etc. and then I took it off and gave it to him. He was stunned and tried to refuse it. But as is the Muslim way, he could not refuse my gift because to do so would be offensive. (He had done this when presenting me with gifts so many times over the previous year that I relished the chance now to throw his own custom right back at him!) He accepted my cross and placed it on around his neck and told me that he would "cherish it forever." In America that sentiment is thrown around loosely, but when Fadhil said it to me I believed him completely. That man took his life into his own hands every day that he came to work for us. He had to do so in secret. So to now not only be in possession of such a thing...a blasphemous infidel symbol of western faith, but then to also be wearing it around his neck. Wow...think of the consequences. (About a year later, because of death threats, Fadhil would have to take his wife and children and flee Iraq for Syria. He returned to Iraq after a year or so and last I heard was OK and working for the Iraqi Correctional Service.)
So
there we were; me a "Christian" pretending to know my western God and
now wearing an eastern symbol of Him. And Fadhil, a true man of a
universal God, wearing what I today believe to be a western symbol
of hypocrisy. I'm not saying here that the symbol of Jesus
is false, that's not for me to say. My knowledge and faith
was nonexistent at that time. I simply mean that my
understanding of faith, of spirituality, of life and death...was make-believe.
I was the hypocrite. But I always believed that my understanding of
God began in earnest after I received that charm. I wore it faithfully
for several years until one fateful day it broke from around my neck and sank
to the bottom of a lake in Idaho. I was heartbroken at its loss and have
considered many times going onto the Internet to try and replace it. But
somehow the thought always peacefully melts away. I feel like
my time with The Throne Verse was well served but that it ran its course.
Someday a thousand years from now that lake will dry up and someone in
need of faith will find that charm. They'll translate the words and
instantly know, like I did, that God meant it just for them.
When
I was preparing to go back to Baghdad the second time I went in search of
another charm. I shopped and shopped until I found just the right one.
I thought it was important that I return to the Land of Allah as a
believer, not a hypocrite. I didn't feel the need for protection this
time. There was nothing there to fear. My God and their God always
were, and always will be, one in the same. That's what I believe. The
silver and black cross I bought and wore proudly back into the desert, and
every day since, signifies that for me always.
-Jim
Franks
