A religious part of my identity 

 

We have 4 different ministers (imams) that perform the service at my place of worship (mosque).

2 are my peers and friends…tapped by the seniors of the community to take on the mantle of leadership. And 2 are the senior imams having served for 25-40 years and now being mostly retired from the community leadership roles. 

Even in my one place of worship its somewhat staggering the difference in values expressed by the imams of our community. One guy offers business as the chief point of emphasis. The next guy, relationships particularly family and marriage, as being the premium good. The other 2 emphasis either individual actualization and responsibility or collectivist focus with almost a disdain for individual consideration.  

 

In the midst of these differences there is a distinct bonding thread in the beliefs and world view that is espoused in my community. One of the Imams said in a talk about nurturing the highest motivation for human excellence. He said

"I am trying to get African Americans who still have the burden on them of [finding their] identity…to go back to your better identity.  The better identity that God gave us is not our racial identity…or our national identity.  The better identity for Muslims in Islam according to our Holy Book –[the identity that] God gave us—is our human identity, which is to be understood as the aim for excellence in the human nature….God created us for human excellence, and this is our common heritage.  We should care more about this common heritage than we do the color of our skin or the nations that we come from….The racial classifications are temporary.  They are not going to last forever.  The national classifications are not going to last forever.  What God will receive is our human soul and its excellence."

This idea. Summarized in quotations above highlights an essential ingredient in my life philosophy and world view. To truly honor my origins i must honor my origins. This doesn't stop at black or Muslim or American...it continues to the place of my origin. To my creation as a soul.

A day at work

Today I went to work. I specialize in the acquisition of a distressed multifamily assets. I now own and manage housing just like the place where I grew up.

Its crazy how money and education change things. Today I walked the grounds at a property in East Point. I witnessed the trash being thrown everywhere. The blatant disregard to cleanliness and there personal safety by the residents. I witnessed the perpetuation of the cycle for poverty and impoverished living. 

 

In the light of this class i'm attempting to examine my view people’s differences and cultural identity. I am torn. Here In this my place of work and origin I see a mindset that is easy to judge and view as backwards. I wonder at the line between judgment and acceptance; between poverty and progress. I wonder at how to change a culture and even more so if it is my right or responsibility to change it.

What allows me to be the determinate of right or ought to for these people. Money power? Shared origin?       

The civilizing of peoples. The institutionalization of good values and habits. These are my thoughts. Does my approach interfere with the culture of a people. Am I imposing my identity on them or am I just “helping”?

A Muslims trip to a Buddhist monastery.

 Most of my time in Atlanta is spent south of the capital building. The close proximity of friend’s family school and work afford me the luxury of realizing my needs without venturing too far from home.

Its no wonder then that I had no idea the Drepung Loseling Buddhist monastery existed. Not 20 minutes from where I live is access to a very rich and evolved eastern spiritual tradition.

Pulling up to the monastery I was a bit unimpressed. I had expected something resembling a temple instead of a regular office style building. 

Something inside gave me pause with my judgement. I couldn’t help but to reflect on the physical structure of the mosque where I pray and worship. The building I attend every Friday is a lightly rehabbed old department store gutted and converted into an assembly hall for our worship and congregation.

 From the outside our building doesn’t fit the mold of a Muslim Mosque. 

Parking in the rear of the building. I came in through the entrance on the back of the building. Immediately I was welcomed in by an attendee of the monastery. The smiles shared were warm and genuine. This helped me to relax and feel welcomed.

I love good smelling things. . I’ve never been to a place that smells more pleasant to me than a mosque…part of our tradition is the use of incense and fragrant oils to color the air with a symphony of sweet and musky scents. I’ve grown to associate these smells with home and the familiar. Boy was I pleasantly surprised when I walked into the monastery. I had no idea that the place would smell so good. The air filled with sweet and musky scents that for me is synonymous with worship and the familiar. I cant help but laugh at my self reflecting on how a something as simple as smell made me so comfortable in this new and foreign place.       

When I walked up to the door of the inner sanctuary I was surprised to see a sign saying no shoes. That said I am accustomed to this practice as we do the same thing in the mosque. Quickly I removed my shoes placing them in the designated area and went into the sanctuary for the worship.

Ahhhhaaa! That’s what I expected to see.

 The years of eastern martial arts movies have conditioned me to connect Buddhism with an orange robe and the gold stature of the Buddha. Walking into the sanctuary my eyes sought out and found these two familiar symbols of the faith alive and present. Now this was my image of Buddhism…confident that I had full grasp of the scene I sat down in a chair directly behind the veteran worshipers sitting on the floor. There bottoms cushioned by flat pillows and there legs crossed in the classic meditation position..I listened as the service began. 

A picture of  a Buddhist Monastery



The service was outstanding. As a Human I found my self swept away in by the intense spiritual presence of both the prayers being chanted and the people chanting. The meaning of the mantras was something I immediately knew were a benefit to my soul and began to allow my self to open consciously to the teachings.
The experience is something I am still digesting now. But in the spirit of the world house metaphor I look forward to visiting my brother again.