the tribe

My mother and brother left to head back to the States at 5:00 this morning, and my father got on the plane this evening for Egypt. That leaves me and Jenn here by ourselves for one night before heading over to Jerusalem tomorrow. I have to admit that I have missed my brother all day, and I got really choked up when my father drove away in his taxi to the airport. It is very rare that my immediate family are able to all gather together, and we have even gone several years between being together in one place. So times like there are very important and special to me, especially now that I am married to Jenn.

But this time the family holiday gathering was even more special, because this time we were with the tribe. For all of my life most of the connections I have had with my father’s Iraqi side of the family have been made up of photographs and phone calls. There have been a few cousins I have been able to spend some time with over the years, but nothing like this.

I always wanted the family like the one in the movie My Big Fat Greek Wedding, and I found that I have one: Aunts and uncles and cousins, complete with all the food, loud talking, emotions, history and multiple kisses on both cheeks. For some of us who met for the first time, it was almost like we had always been together.

This trip was a pilgrimage to meet my family... to finaly connect with an entire side of my identity which I have never known. And though we couldn’t do it in Baghdad we got as close as we could. While not everyone was able to make it, this was the first time this many people from all sides of my father’s family have been together since his last visit to Iraq in 1979.

This really was a holy week for me. I once learned that when Christ said, “In my father’s house are many rooms, and I go to prepare a place for you,” he was speaking of the ancient Middle Eastern custom of the entire family living together. And if we are to live on earth as it is in heaven, then this week was as close I have come so far…

My family in Iraq sometime in the early 60s...

... and this week in Jordan (many of the same people are in both pictures)

Our Eid feast at the Iraqi restaurant near our hotel.

My brother, cousin Noor and I on our way to Petra. Noor's mother Zaynab lived with us for a year when I was in the 6th grade, but this was the first time I had met her daughter.

All the first cousins.

My father (on the right) and his only surviving brother, Ahmed.

Jenn and me with my cousin Mohammed's daughters. They moved after their father was killed in October. I heard they called their grandmother in Baghdad to tell her I looked like their father.

a different kind of holy week

This weekend was a Muslim holiday here in Jordan. It marked the end of the Hajj in Mecca and the celebration of Eid. One of the parts of the celebration is the slaughtering of a lamb or a goat, and then cooking it for a big feast.

Well, wouldn’t you know that just down the street from our hotel, between the Hardee's and Holiday Inn, is a big dirt lot where all week men in tents have been keeping sheep and goats in pens. And on this Eid morning the place was packed with people choosing their animal and having it killed, bled and cut up for them. The place smelled of deep manure, and the dirt was muddy with blood.

There is a devotion here that amazes me. Every morning before sunrise I am usually awaken by the sounds of the call to prayer from the mosque next door. And if you want to find a taxi in the afternoon just sit outside the mosque because a dozen drivers will be in side for afternoon prayers.

Also, I was impressed by the two large prayer rooms next to the bathrooms at the mall, where I saw many people taking off their shoes and facing towards Mecca to pray. At the mall!!

And all week there has been 24 hour coverage of the pilgrims at Mecca making the Hajj.

I don’t want to get into any debate right now about Muslim prayer and Christian faith, or what is the importance of liturgy in any religion. I just wanted to comment on the devotion I have witnessed here that surpasses anything I have seen by a common Christian back home.

There has been a different kind of holy week here than I am used to, and it has been a testament to devotion.

The minaret of the mosque next to our hotel where the call to prayer wakes me up before sunrise.

Men carving up the goats and lambs near our hotel.

snowy peter

Yesterday Jenn, my cousin Noor and I drove what was supposed to be a three hour drive south to the ancient city of Petra. The word Petra comes from the Greek, meaning “rock” and is translated Peter in English (this is why the name Peter was given to the Apostle by Christ when he said, “Upon this rock I will build my church… but the city has no Biblical significance). We were flying down the King’s Highway (that’s really the name of the road) at a pretty fast pace for about two hours. We began to see snow capped mountains in the distance, which we laughed at as pretty odd for the southern desert of Jordan. And then we hit the road block.

The police had closed the road, and a dozen cars and tourist busses were sitting all along the sides of the road. They told us it was closed because of ice. Ice? Are you kidding me? But after about fifteen minutes the call came squawking in over the radio that we could go. It didn’t take too many kilometers to see the problem. The snow was deep, and only half a lane of the road going both ways had been cleared, so every time a car or bus coming the other direction met up with us, everyone had to stop and back up, pull their car off the road, and let them pass. We got stuck a little once, but there we enough men from other cars to push us out. I wasn’t able to get a picture of it, but at one point I saw a huge snowman wearing a red kafia on the side of the road. And it turns out the day before about 3,000 cars had been stuck overnight around the area, with some tourists haveing to be rescued by helicopter.



But we made it to Petra, and we walked forever over rocks, mud and hills which killed my feet and proved to me how out of shape I am. Pictures can’t describe the magnitude and wonder of this ancient city (for those of you who don’t know, it is the location of the Holy Grail in the last Indiana Jones movie… and in fact the first gift shop you come across is called “Indiana Jones Gift Shop” complete with a big picture of Harrison Ford).

The ruins were wonderful, but what broke my heart were the Bedouins who live there who were trying to sell us the most worthless stuff on the planet just to survive. And most of the pitches were given to me by either very young children or very old men. The Italian tourist who started bragging that she didn’t have to pay for the souvenir she found that a child had dropped really pissed me off (and at the same time made me wonder how I understood everything she said in Italian… I guess learning Spanish paid off). One old man tried to sell me a small oil lamp, and I regret not buying it, because a few meter later I could see where he lived.

But regardless of the snow and the poverty, we did have a really good time. Enjoy the pictures, and until next time: Salaam… Shalom… Peace.

My little brother walking through the cavern and up to the Treasury of ancient Petra.

The most famous structure in Petra, the Treasury (and sight of the Holy Grail according to Indian Jones)

The Roman amphitheater at Petra. What an amazing view... and to think over 30,000 people lived here at one time.

Jennifer and a friend...

... and Omar and an ass.

hanging on for justice

We went to bed last night watching the news on Aljazeera and the BBC telling us that Saddam Hussein's death would be in a matter of hours. When I woke up this morning and turned on the television he had been dead for three. We are staying in a largely Iraqi neighborhood Jordan, and we wondered if we would hear any celebration. But it was a very quiet day... though on a stroll this morning my brother and I noticed a few police and machine gun armed soldiers walking around, apparentaly just in case.

Everyone in my family believed that he was an evil and ruthless murderer, but through two Gulf Wars I never heard anyone in my family say anything bad about Saddam Hussein out loud. Their lack of criticism was because of fear rather than any sort of support for the dictator. In Iraq, you either followed the rules or you disappeared. Even those family who lived in the United States wouldn’t say a word about him, for fear that somehow it would make it back to Baghdad and someone could be in trouble. The man and his regime were that dangerous and deadly. It wasn’t until two days after Saddam was found in that spider hole, and the images of his dirty long beard were broadcast all over the world, that my dad matter-of-factly muttered, “Yeah, that Saddam Hussein really was a son-of-a-bitch.”

Saddam’s death won’t change a thing in Iraq. This is a country that has had it’s fair share of bloody regimes over the last century. The goal of freeing Iraq from the fear of death and torture under Saddam has only given way to death and torture under “democracy.” Nor will it heal any wounds, bring any closure, end any violence, or unite a country. Ultimately, it will be another death in the long history of the abuse of Iraq. Make no mistake… the “Butcher of Baghdad” murdered and killed hundreds of thousands of innocent people, and there needs to be justice. But somehow I don’t think more death is the answer. We saw the video of his hanging over and over again, and regardless of what one thinks of the man, there was something distrubingly wrong about watching the hanging of a human being. Somehow killing a killer doesn't seem like justice, it just seems like sinking to their level.

And while we are on the subject of justice, let us not forget that while Saddam was torturing, gassing, and murdering his own people (and the people of Iran) for twenty-four years, for the first half he was doing it with funding, technology, and a wink from the United States. It was Ronald Reagan's envoy to the Middle East, Donald Rumsfeld, who met with Saddam Hussein in Baghdad in 1983 and helped him with weapons (including chemical) and funding. Three months later the New York Times reported that Saddam had used nerve gas against Iran. Three days later Rumsfeld assured the Iraqi leader that he still had the support of the United States. Later in 1988, while still considered an ally, he used chemical weapons on his own people in the northern Kurdish region. He may have been a son-of-a-bitch, but he was the White House’s son-of-a-bitch (and I have to mention that we have news outlets from all over the world, and I have noticed that everyone from Aljazeera and the other Arab news stations to the BBC from Europe all talk about this up front, while Fox News, the "liberal" CNN and even the "very lieberal" NPR don't even mention it).

Today the President said that Saddam’s death was “the kind of justice he denied the victims of his brutal regime.” But what about justice for those who supported him. I read someone on Fox News say “… evil people who destroy innocent lives must be held to account.” So where is the justice against those who didn’t seem to have a problem with Saddam’s cruelty when it suited their needs, and then blew Iraq to pieces when it no longer did? Who will hold accountable those who funded the Butcher of Baghdad and looked the other way, and then lit the fuse and turned Iraq into hell on earth to catch him?

Saddam was a son-of-a-bitch, but he never acted alone…

The now infamous meeting between Saddam Hussein and Donald Rumsfeld in Iraq, 1983.

national lampoons jordan vacation

We were trying to locate a hard to find cab the other day in Amman. This image says something (but I'm not sure what) and it simply cracks me up. Every time I see it I think of Clark Griswold and can hear the Family Vacation theme song in my head.

Nothing but Salaam... Shalom... Peace from Jordan.

wedding of the century

You had to be there. That is the only phrase I can come up with to describe my cousin Mohammed’s wedding. I have never been to a Muslim wedding before, and I have to say they blow away any I have ever been to in the States. Elements of Islam, American culture, and tribal roots were all in play.

The religious part of the ceremony took place a month ago. The bride and groom gather with a few family members at her parent’s house where the imam reads from the Quran. One key aspect of the ceremony (lost in stereotype translation) is when he asks the bride is she alone chooses to marry the man. Believe it or not, the actual words in the Quran call for a better treatment of women and wives than many in Islam have come to practice. But then again, the same can be said for Christianity… but that is for another blog.

This gathering was about the celebration. And boy did we celebrate. The party was in a huge hotel ball room, and there were about 500+ guests. At the front of the room was a sort of love-seat for the bride and groom. In front of that was a large dance floor, and on the left and right were four rows of long tables, with the ones on the left facing the ones on the right. The left side was the bride’s family, and the left was the groom’s. It had echoes of the old tribal days in Iraq when the clans would gather for the wedding feast. The second half of the room was full of round tables for all the friends and guests.

The ceremony began with the bride and groom cutting the cake from the balcony… with a sword (I still have not found out the significance of that one). Then there was tango dancing (don’t know what that was about), and then the processional with – wait for it – the bride walking in to the tune of “Here Comes the Bride.” What was very cool was the both families processed in…very tribal, and I think a larger statement of what is really going on.



Then the bride and groom danced together as all the girls in the family six and under walked around them in circles wearing white gowns, tiaras, and waiving gold ribbons. The music was a live band, the lighting was concert standard, and they brought in… a fog machine. It was spectacular.

Then all the sisters on both sides brought jewelry and gifts to the bride. Then we ate. And boy did we eat. Every kind of Middle Eastern food I have ever loved, and much I had never seen. There were literally hundreds of platters, chaffing dishes and servers. We’re not talking mints, nuts and finger foods here… we’re talking full feast, complete with several whole roasted lambs on both ends of the line. And you know what? There was even ham. That's right, ham (Muslims share many customs with Jews, including not eating pork). Why was there ham? Because as one cousin told me, "There are many Christians here who might like ham, and we want to offer it to them." (I swear all the Muslims I know are better at recieving Christians than the Christians I know are better at recieving Muslims. It was also pointed out that the room was full of Iraqi Shiites and Sunnis who didn't seem to have some ancient "blood feud" between them.)

After dinner, we danced. And danced. And danced. And I don’t mean that junior high dance where everyone is too worried about what they’re wearing and what kind of a fool they might end up looking like. I’m talking about everyone jumping and holding hands and doing old Iraqi dances and making big family circles.


It went on all night. The ceremony started at 8:00 p.m, we didn’t eat until 10:30, and the dancing finally stopped close to 3:00 in the morning. Everyone from the bride and groom to my 80 year old uncle was on the dance floor at the end.

We got home about 4:00 a.m, and we slept until 2:45 the next afternoon. It was not just a wedding party, it was a tribal celebration… and one of the greatest experiences of my life.

Oh, and one other thing: At one point before dinner another couple came out on the dance floor and cut a smaller cake. Apparently it was their one year anniversary, and my cousin and his bride had met for the first time at their wedding. I thought Jenn and I had moved fast. I guess it runs in the family.

The ballroom before the wedding from the back of the room.

Jennifer and me.

Some of my cousins who processed in with the bride and danced around them during their first dance.

My brother Ramsey, Jenn, my Uncle (Amu) Ahmed, my Mom (sadly she can't be seen) and my Dad dancing together. I quicky put the camera down and joined them.

Jenn and me with the bride and groom. The bride had two different gowns and changed between the feast and the dancing.

More to come. Salaam... Shalom... Peace.

myth busters

Most people would think that coming to the Middle East would mean hot temperatures and lots of brown and sand. Well the brown and sand part is right, but as for the heat… myth busted. It started snowing two nights ago (that’s right… snow), and the temperature dropped below freezing (not to mention a wicked wind).

Though I have been to the Middle East before, it is good once again to see some other popular myths busted. I’ve blogged before about the many stereotypes and misunderstandings of much of Arab and Muslim culture (read one here), but a few examples these last couple of days brought some thoughts back to mind.

Like the older man who wears the kafia near the little market down the street. His image would conjure up ideas of a radical who constantly broods anger (especially at Americans). But instead he smiles and waves whenever I walk by… like many of the others do as they say Ma Salaama (go in peace).

Or the commercial I saw today in Arabic for Vicks children medicine. It shows a young mother in a hijab sitting at the bed caring for her sick child. At the end, when her boy is better, we see her and many other similarly dressed mothers at an elementary school production of The Three Little Pigs, all smiling and clapping as their children take their bows. In other words, women as mothers who care for their children the same way mothers in the West do.

And the myth that the Muslim world hates Christians and wants them “converted or killed.” While there is defiantly persecution of Christians in some parts of the Muslim world, I don’t see any evidence of that here. Take for example the sign at the mall: It celebrates both Christmas and Eid (a Muslim holy day celebration). The Merry Christmas is in English while holding hands with the Happy Eid, which is in Arabic. Not only that, the major newspaper here, as well as many business and government offices, closed down for both Christmas day and Eid (which is Saturday). To a lesser extent I noticed the same in Egypt four years ago, and it used to be okay in Iraq, too.
And then of course there was the wedding… but I’ll get to that later. I could go on, but you get the picture. At least in this part of the Arab and Muslim world it seems easier to be a Christian and an American than many Muslims are facing right now in the States. Being here has shown me in sharper detail the great chasm between America and the Middle East, and Islam and Christianity. It is a bit saddening that I see the hospitality in Jordan that Christians in America should be showing.

Well… not much more to say. Salaam… Shalom… Peace.

photo ops

I tried to post some pictures with yesterday's blog, but the computer I was working with wouldn't cooperate. But I think the bugs are worked out now. Here are a few, with more to come.

This is the "mother of all Christmas trees" in the middle of the Mecca Mall. Like I said... hard to tell the difference between a mall in Dallas and the mall in Amman.

This is "Santa" with Jenn and my cousin Noor. I wish the picture could get across the sounds of the "Jingle Bells" hip-hop remix in Arabic blaring in the background. We still don't know who or what Santa was checking out.


My little brother and I spent some time downtown yesterday. This is one of the markets where we bought some fruit (Ramsey is on the left with his back to the camera as he picks up some pomegranates).


The picture is a little blurry, but we were in a hurry to find a cab. It is a typical street corner downtown, with the typical example of some men who wear the kafia and women who wear the hijab, and those who don't (probably less than 1/4 wear the garments). My brother and I bought kafias downtown, and it was so cold and damp that Ramsey used his as a scarf. We commented on how nice it was to be in a place where we could wear these and not be looked at as weird or a threat.


The view from downtown as we looked for a taxi to go home.

Much more to come.
Salaam... Shalom... Peace.

christmas in mecca

Christmas day, and my poor mother’s luggage didn’t make it. Last we heard it was somewhere in Rome. We needed to get her some clothes, and so we ended up spending most of the day at the Mecca Mall. With the exception of the Arabic, the indoor smoking and a quarter of the shoppers wearing kafias and hijabs, you would never be able to tell the difference between this place and a mall in middle-America: Five levels, crowded with shoppers carrying bags and talking on cell phones, scores of restaurants (like McDonalds and KFC) , and a movie theater (with half being U.S. movies).

And oh yeah… it was Christmas. The place was decorated on every level with trees and bells and snowflakes, with the mother of all tress in the center of the mall. There were signs everywhere with two cartoon character calling for joy in celebrating Christmas and Eid (the Muslim holiday). But the best moment was when we walked into one huge store that had a dj in a Santa outfit. It was quite a “melting pot” moment: Hijab wearing mothers took pictures of their children with Santa in front of the Christmas tree, while the speakers pumped out Spanish songs by Shakira and Christmas carols like “Jingle Bells” and “Silent Night” in Arabic. All the while shoppers came in droves and piled clothes and accessories at the registers. When Jenn looked out the window this morning and saw brown and minarets, she said it didn’t feel like the holiday, but that afternoon between Santa and the sales, it really did begin to look a lot like Christmas.

For a first day back in the Middle East it was a little culturally disappointing. After several hours of seeing the same stuff I can get in Lexington and standing in some long check-out lines, it became very clear to me the impact the U.S. has on the world… even the Islamic countries. Of all the things we can offer, our biggest cultural export has got to be our extreme consumerism. This could be our legacy:


There are other pictures, but this computer is screwy. More to come...

between iraq and a hard place

After a very long trip, we finally made it to Amman, Jordan. We are here for a wedding/family vacation before heading to Jerusalem next week for school. The entire family is here: My mom, dad, little brother, the wife, and scores of uncles, aunts and cousins. This is the first time we’ve all been able to gather with my father’s side of the family. For more than a decade most have moved from Iraq to all over the world, and so this really is a rare and amazing opportunity, and a major part of the “pilgrimage.”

For those of you who don’t know, Jordan sits right in between some troubled countries. Forty-five minutes to our west is Palestine and Israel, four hours to our east is the Iraqi border, and just to our north is Lebanon. Jordan has been home for a long while to over 1.5 million Palestinian refugees, and most recently has become home for over 700,000 Iraqi refugees (so far).

Jordan is home to some famous Biblical stories. This is where John the Baptist baptized Jesus, and then was later imprisoned and beheaded. Jesus and his disciples trekked through here (see the story in Matthew 8:28-32). Close by is Mt. Nebo, where Moses looked over into the promise land before he died. From there Joshua led the Israelites through the Jordan River and into their new homeland. This is also where Elijah was taken to heaven in the fiery chariot, and very possibly where Sodom and Gomorrah once partied.

Well… that’s enough history for now. We’ll be here all week, so check back if you can. Until then Salaam… Shalom… Peace.

unto us a child is born

In the first century the Jews were considered to be on the low end of the social order. They lived in what is now Palestine, which was a backwater province of the Roman Empire. And Bethlehem was a backwater town in that backwater province. There Christ was born. And not in a room, but in what amounted to a barn. And not in a crib, but a feeding trough. There, in the midst of the straw and the dung... the Savior of the world was born in the lowest place, in the lowest town, of the lowest province, to the lowest people. Here is how it starts. This is the birth of salvation. This is how God chose to send his Son to redeem all of humanity. Christ the King was born at the lowest place so that all who suffer can identify with Him, and he can be made available to all... regardless of bloodline, birth order, nationality or status. Christ's birth shows that His work of redemption is for the whole world, and so everyone is welcome into the Kingdom.

Merry Christmas from Israel. Salaam... Shalom... Peace on Earth.

"Why Deny the Obvious Child"
painted by Sandy Martens

a pilgrimage of sorts

Notice that the sign is in English, Arabic and Hebrew and you'll be able to tell that we're not in Kentucky anymore. First Born Son is coming to you live from the Middle East. At this moment we are sitting in the Ben Gurion airport in Tel Aviv, Israel.

You can't travel into Israel with a name like mine and not be checked out thoroughly. It took us close to two hours to answer the same questions over and over again. I had been warned that they would send to interrogators at me to play "good cop/bad cop." I was a little thrown when the first two turned out to be attractive, college aged women.

Besides what are you doing here? the questions had a lot to do with my background: What is your father's name? What is your grandfather's name? Where are they from? Do you have any family in Iraq? Have you ever lived there? What religion are you? What is your wife's maiden name? (and the eyebrows always go up when they here the Hebrew name... she looks so much like a local here, and she's still the hottest one).

And of course my bags were completely unpacked... every piece of underwear laid bare, swiped, and checked for explosives. I'm not kidding. We ended up going through at least six different sets of questioners, metal detectors, and baggage screeners. However, all the way through everyone was very friendly... suspicious, but friendly.

But our journey is not done. This is just a pit-stop on the journey. One more flight in a few minutes and we can sleep. We've been traveling for over 24-hours now. We're a bit exhausted and feel like, well... we feel like ass.

We will be in the Middle East for the next four weeks. This really is the chance of a lifetime on so many levels. Pray for us. I don't know how often I'll be able to update, but I'll do my best.

Until then... Salaam. Shalom. Peace.

how to buy hearts and minds

I once knew a pastor who always said that if you wanted to know what was important in your life all you had to do was look in your checkbook. He promised that a simple look at what you spent your money on would reveal your priorities and convictions.

With that in mind, I found it revealing that the United States - if approved by congress - will spend $170 billion on war this year, bringing the total for the last five years to $500 billion. By contrast, the ONE campaign is doing all it can to convince congress to not cut the $1 billion it set aside for fighting AIDS and poverty in Africa.

When my brother was reporting for Al-Ahram Weekly in Iraq, he wrote and told me how Shiite cleric Moqtada al-Sadr (recently named the most dangerous man in Iraq) had gained so much power, and turned a previously pro-American Shiite slum into an anti-American army that is more deadly than any other group in Iraq. Because right after Sadaam Hussein fell, he provided food, medical care, homes and security for the poorest in Sadr City. The troops came in with guns, while he came in with bread.

So, looking at our country's spending, what are our priorities and convictions? Have we really wasted hundreds of billions of dollars and done more damage than good? Probably.

Interestingly, whenever Christ speaks of how to win hearts and minds, he never speaks of using violence. In fact, the only way He seems to deal with violence involve the words "forgive" and "do unto others as you would have done unto you." The mandate He gives is for feeding the poor, taking care of the widow and orphan, clothing the naked, visiting the prisoner, forgiving the enemy and accepting the forigner.

While we crush Arabs and Muslims we like to call ourselves a "Christian" nation. Well, when will we start spending like one?

See what we're doing with our $$$

american idol

“You must not oppress foreigners. You know what it’s like to be a foreigner, for you yourselves were once foreigners in the land of Egypt.
Exodus 23:9

It has been a while, but I received another email forward from “Bob” (a member of my church back in Texas) and this time he is worried about immigration. This one was titled, “Wake Up America!” Basically it says that both illegal and legal immigration is marching across the country and devastating the American Dream. It lays out in detail how by continuing to let foreigners into the United States we will bring ruin to the very fabric of our country, and that different cultures will literally destroy the United States.

Bob’s views seem to fall right in line with the ideas of Virginia congressman Virgil Goode, who recently sent out a letter to supporters in which he declared that the United States needed to reduce legal immigration, specifically to stop people from the Middle East from coming into the country. He believes that by keeping out Arabs and Muslims we will be able to “preserve the values and beliefs traditional to the United States of America.”

Beyond being racist, Bob’s and Virgil’s ideas forget the simple fact that, unless one is a Native-American, we are all descendants of immigrants who came into this country and brought different cultures and faiths. To distinguish white, northern-European as better and more “American” than Asian or Arab is dangerously ignorant.

Of course I am somewhat personally bothered by these ideas because I am the son of a legal immigrant from the Middle East. But what is even more troublesome is that both Bob and Virgil champion their Christianity as the proudly declare that the United States is a Christian country… and they represent a large number of Christians in America. So then, is the fear of foreigners destroying the fabric of the American Dream a Christian virtue? I hope not.

There are two flaws in the faith and foreign policy of Bob and Virgil. First, as Christians our identity and citizenship is ultimately not in a nation state, but in heaven. And through the Cross, the citizens of heaven are not bound by nation or bloodline or gender, but by all those who call on the name of the Lord. So our fellow citizens can be from anywhere in the world.

Second, as Christians part of our worship is to practice and rehearse our story until Christ returns. That is the function of the Eucharist in worship… where we re-enact the covenant meal that we will have again with Christ when he returns. In a sense, this is the heart of Advent. But what does the Scripture tell us about the end of our story? It says that in the end, every tribe, tongue and nation will be gathered around the throne of God. So if Christians are called to rehearse and live this Kingdom reality now, and we call ourselves a “Christian nation” (though that can be debated at another time), then wouldn’t that mean our mandate as a citizens of this country is to live out the Kingdom example of people from every culture and language being made welcome as our equal?

In the Old Testament we find the story of Josiah. He was the king of Israel, and during his tenure the Temple (the place of worship and where God’s presence dwelled) had become a place where prostitutes sold themselves and the people sacrificed their children to pagan gods. Then one day someone found a book in the Temple that told them the story of who they were. It spoke to them of how long ago God had rescued them from slavery and chosen them to be the people that would represent him to the nations. In agony and shame, Josiah ripped his robe in half and immediately began to institute reforms among the people and their practices. Simply put, the people of God had lost their story and so had settled for an idolatrous and sinful identity.

Knowing the story of God’s creation and redemption work in history, and our place in that story, should form our responses to war, poverty, immigration, the environment and the sanctity of life.

In this season of Advent, as we prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ, it would do us all good to examine the possible idolatry imbedded in “national security” and the “American Dream.” Then maybe we can see where we have forgotten our story and identity, so that we may repent and love our neighbors as we love ourselves, and be a Kingdom sign to the forigner in our midst.

My country is the world; my countryman are mankind.
William Lloyd Garrison


You can read more about Congressman Goode's "Islamophobia" here.

be on the lookout (part two)

There is a infamous book and movie called Not Without My Daughter, which is the true story of an Iranian Muslim who seems like Prince Charming to his American wife, but later, after he takes her to meet his family, he becomes abusive and won’t let her leave Iran with their child.

My friend Nabil is a Arab Christian pastor who works in his home of Palestine. He once told me that he was engaged to a European woman who read the book, then broke off their engagement.
He also told me of being asked to speak in churches, only to have them cancel when they find out that he is an Arab.

I can relate to the Not Without My Daughter problems. Ever since that movie came out when I was in high school people have always asked, “So if your mom is American and your dad is Muslim, is it like that movie? Does your dad beat your mom and make her wear the veil?”

I found it very interesting when I first moved to Wilmore to learn that the highest rate of domestic violence calls in the county were from seminary couples. It seems like Christian American men have a problem abusing their wives, too. Double standard?

There has always been a low-grade bigotry towards Arabs and Muslims in this country. After 9-11 the demonization went into overdrive, because that is how you fight “the enemy.” Once an Iraq War vet came up to me and apologized for the views he had held towards Arabs. “The trained us to believe all of you were evil and killers,” he lamented.

Remember the equation most people follow:

Arab = Muslim = Terrorist

But imagine a college football stadium in December with 80,000 fans. They are all part of the same school and they are all wearing the same colors. But what does the camera focus in on? The four crazies who have no shirts on with their bodies completely painted, funny wigs, too much to drink, and are dancing and screaming like idiots. They are a very small minority of the overall stadium of fans, and the ones whom most of us look at and say, “Fools. I would never do that.”

Well… that’s the Arab world.

And within the Muslim world there are many differences as well. It is too easy to simply say, “All Sunnis believe this,” or “All Shiites are like that.” Consider these two people:

One is so conservative he is considered a fascist, and the other is so liberal she is considered a threat to America. But what do the two have in common? They are both registered United Methodists.

Why does any of this matter? Because we need to understand that demonizing and stereotyping have always led to deadly ends, and the same is true right now in the Middle East. Because we should grieve just as much for an Arab who dies as we do for an American. Because the life of a Muslim from Palestine is just as important to God as that of a Christian from Georgia. We must remember that the enemies of America are not necessarily the enemies of God.

All of us are part of the humanity created in God’s image, and through the Son a way has been made to break the cycle of unforgiveness, violence and death. This is what Advent is important, because it reminds us to prepare the way in our lives, and the world around us, for the Christ who will come with mercy and justice.

As long as we continue with an us vs. them mentality, we will never fully walk in the ways of peace and reconciliation. We must consider what actions we as Christians are supporting in the Middle East that would cause us to be seen as villains. We must recognize that all of humanity has issues of extremism and violence. We need to examine what it means to be the enemy, what it means to be humanity, and what Advent tells us about breaking the cycle.

Sadly, the demonization continues on both sides, and we seem to be going in the wrong direction:

be on the lookout (part one)

THE BOONDOCKS by Aaron McGruder

One morning a little while back I was sitting on a plane flying from Lexington to Dallas. The flight left at 7:30 in the morning, and when I arrived at the airport before sunrise only one lane - with a long line - was open through security.

Later in the flight, when the sleepiness had worn off and the drink cart had made its rounds, the man sitting next to me asked what I did in Lexington. I told him I was in seminary. “Isn’t that where you go to be a priest?” he asked. I explained to him that I was studying to be a pastor, and then our conversation drifted for a while before petering out.

I had started reading through my Newsweek when he tried to pick back up the small talk: “Man, that sure was an early flight this morning. I sure hated having to get to the airport before the sun came up.”

“Yeah,” I responded, not looking up from my magazine. “It was too early, and I wasn’t too thrilled to stand for almost half an hour in that security line.”

“No kidding!” he excitedly shot back. “What on earth did we have to stand around for? I mean, do I look like a Muslim or an Arab? We know that all the terrorists are Muslims, so let’s just single them out and let the rest of us go about our business… right?”

I didn’t even look up. “Yeah… it’s tricky,” I muttered back.

I could not have planned for a better follow up question from my neighbor. He turned to me and asked, “So at that seminary, do you study other religions like Islam? Or do you just study Christianity?”
“No, we have classes on Islam. But I’m not taking any of those right now,” I answered.
“Why not?”
“Because my father is a Muslim, so I’ve got that one down.”

Insert awkward silence here.

“He… he is? Where’s he from?”
“Iraq,” I said while turning the page, still not looking up.

Another, much longer awkward silence. And I didn’t turn and look, but I’m sure I saw a frozen face with a mouth dropped open staring at me for bit. Then he tried the back peddle: “You know, it really is sad the way people get stereotyped…”

Too late friend. Too late…


Next week Jennifer and I are traveling to Tel Aviv for a three week study abroad program in Israel. Our team leader has already warned us that anyone traveling to Israel goes through a long security screening process that can take up to half an hour. And I have also been warned that because of my name and background it does not matter that I am a U.S. citizen, I can expect to be treated as guilty until proven innocent.

So it was with a little concern that I recently read a report that the State Department has filed a complaint with the Israeli government about Israel’s discriminatory treatment of Arab-Americans trying to travel into the country. As if that alone wasn’t fun enough, one particular statement by a “senior official” about Israel’s behavior stood out to me:

"They are being treated as Arabs and not Americans. They basically treat them as second-class citizens."

I’m a little bothered that the U.S. State Department is, in a sense, admitting that Arabs are treated as second-class citizens. I can’t imagine the outcry if the State Department implied that being treated as Mexican or Black or Asian was an acceptable second class status, as long as Americans were treated better.

Some people will read this and say, “Well, if Arabs would stop blowing stuf up they wouldn’t be treated that way.” Many people simply look at it like this:

Arab = Muslim = Terrorist

If all Arabs and/or Muslims are violent and terrorists, then what do you say to the people who were in the Federal Building in Oklahoma City? Or a Remembrance Day parade in Ireland? Or an Amish schoolhouse in Pennsylvania?

There is something really wrong here, and I know I have many more thoughts on this, but I’ll have to come back to it. Stay tuned…

(read the report here)

peer review

Close to 5:00 this morning I finished one of the largest and most difficult papers I've had to write in seminary. I'm not too proud of it, and thought I would place it among its equals in the history of paper:

J.D. asked if this meant I was lowering or raising my grade expectations.
I don't care.... it's turned in and I'm done.

ass backward as the way forward

Even after the Iraq Study Group report, it appears that the White House will look for a "new way forward to victory" by continuing its terribly long practice of ignoring the experts, refusing sound advice, and being stubborn and arrogant to a deadly fault. This reminds me of a story....

I’m 10 years old, and we’re on a family vacation to the Gulf Coast. Vacation means a break from the cardboard flavor of Cheerios. Vacation means Fruit Loops… bowls and bowls in the morning, afternoon and night. I finished off the box the night before, so as I wake up sometime around lunch I know I don’t want my parent’s Cheerios.

“Mom, could you go to the store and get some more Fruit Loops?”
“No… there is plenty of cereal in the pantry.”
“I don’t want what’s in the pantry, I want my cereal.”
“Just go look in the pantry, you’ll find something.”

We go back and forth like this for about five minutes, and my frustration level starts to rise. Then my dad walks in.

“What is he complaining about?”
“He wants me to go to the store and get him more cereal.”
“But we’ve got cereal. Your mom doesn’t need to go to the store.”

I lose it. Why won’t they just do what I want them to? They hate me. They don’t understand me. I decide to make them listen with shock and awe: I throw a tantrum - along with some sofa cushions - around the room. Now they will know I mean business.

They ignore me.

I try to convince my little brother I’m right. He says he'd like Fruit Loops, too.

"See," I say hysterically, "he wants what I want!"

Nothing.

I shift gears to pleading, which only gets me, “Just go look in the pantry. That’s final!”

So I shift back to shock and awe. I keep it up for a good ten minutes, but since I haven’t eaten yet, I start to lose the will to fight. I try ignoring them, hoping they’ll feel sorry for me.

Nothing.

"This is all your fault!" I yell at them, trying to convince them that my intentions were noble. "All I wanted was the cereal I deserve and you promissed! I didn't do anything wrong! You just don't love me! You hate me!'

Now I've lost my brother's support as he goes for the Cheerios. My parents warn that the very real danger of long-term grounding is close (and may already be decided).

Finally, I’m desperate. I’ll settle for their below-standard options. I quietly walk to the pantry, open the door, and look up to find...

A new box of Fruit Loops.

“Should have listened to me,” my mom says without taking her eyes from her book.

My father just looks at me like my son is an idiot.

Would that all people took the time to try to see where our leaders seem to be taking us, and for what reason. Skepticism and reevaluation are necessities, not luxuries.
Edward W. Said

turn the page

Here is a follow up to the op-ed I wrote last week for the Lexington Herald-Leader in which I claimed that until the U.S. invasion and failed occupation, Sunni and Shiites lived in relative peace in Iraq. Yestderday the paper published a "letter to the editor" response from a man who did not agree at all with my column.

In a very short space he wrote that I basically had no idea what I was talking about. He accused me of using too much family story and not enough history. I always thought that the story of the people who live in a country and what happens to them there is a part of history.

He went on to say that Shiites and Sunnis have always been killing each other since their split in 632 A.D., and that this alone was the reason for civil war in Iraq. The United States, he concluded, had nothing to do with it, and it was all the fault of the Iraqis.

Then I turned the page over, and there I found an in-depth report on Iraq with a headline that read: Not long ago, Sunnis, Shiites weren't at odds. The conclusion? That until the U.S. invasion, Sunnis and Shiites lived peacefully in Iraq.

And the debate continues...

advent of a new year

Not long after the invasion of Iraq by U.S. forces, my little brother was riding in a taxi through Cairo. The cab driver spoke just enough English, and my brother just enough Arabic, for the two to have a simple conversation. After a while, the cab driver figured out that my brother was half Iraqi and half American. “Oh, it is funny,” he said, “your country is attacking your country.”

I recently watched a news story detailing the close to 2 million Iraqi refugees now living in Jordan and Syria, many poor and with nothing. Then I saw the images of American’s queuing up at 5 a.m. outside Wal Mart to run over each other for a deal on a television.

I don’t know where I feel the greater shame: Is it in the fact that Iraqis are killing Iraqis, can’t look past their tribal roots, and care more about who has power than who has security… and that the violence and hatred makes us look blood-thirsty terrorists? Or is that Americans are okay with the fact that we sparked a civil war, as long as we can keep driving our SUVs, eat all the food we can see, and beat each other up in line for a new Playstation… all of which makes us look like gluttonous, self-centered imperialists?

All of it – whether it is blowing up a car bomb because of religion, or dropping a guided bomb because of a lie – is an injustice. This is not how it was meant to be.

I realize that, for a while now, I have become quite cynical about this war and the injustice it has revealed. I think in many ways that the cynicism has grown from a despair and anger of witnessing first hand the worst in both my cultures bringing out the worst in each other.

Last week the Christian calendar began the first season of a new year: Advent. It means, “the arrival of a notable person, thing, or event.” For most Christians it mistakenly means the beginning of the Christmas season, which is the celebration of the birth of Christ. But actually, the first half of Advent is the season where we remember and look towards that time when Christ will come again (and not in the “Left Behind” end times idea of a 2nd coming… thanks be to God). In a sense this is the Christian New Year, where the end is the beginning.

Throughout the Scriptures the people of God have always been asking, “How long?” How long will the suffering, injustice and sin go on? This question was asked with the idea and promise that God would in fact bring rescue. Advent reminds us that there will be a day when Christ – the advocate before the throne of God for the poor and oppressed – will return with a final, holy and right justice.

Advent Prayer:
Jesus, you delivered us from captivity, made covenant to be our sovereign God, and spoke to us through your prophets, who looked for that day when justice shall roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream, when nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore.
(from Methodist Liturgy)

prayers for the human family

The other day my little brother pointed out that while the U.S. created the "petri dish" that has lead to civil war in Iraq, in the end it is Iraqis killing Iraqis. This, he said, was the "greatest shame." I would have to agree.

I won't be around the blog much for a little while. Finals are next week, and I have to fiqure out how to fit all the work of an entire semester into the next seven days. Pray for me.

Until then, I offer this from the Book of Common Prayer for us to pray together:

Oh God, you made us in your own image and redeemed us through Jesus your Son: Look with compassion on the whole human family; take away the arrogance and hatred which infect our hearts; break down the walls that separate us; unite us in bonds of love; and work through our struggle and confusion to accomplish your purposes on earth; that, in your good time, all nations and races may serve you in harmony around your heavenly throne; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Peace be with you...

is that your final answer?

“Iraqis have been liberated from the nightmare of tyrannical order only to face the nightmare of brutal violence.” - James Baker, Co-Chair of Iraq Study Group.

Today the bipartisan Baker-Hamilton Iraq Study Group gave its findings to the President. They did not offer any ground breaking answers to the problem, but they did offer a stinging “report card” of the situation. They concluded that “stay the course” was no longer a legitimate option, that the United States did not do enough to adequately train Iraqi forces, and that the United States must open up talks with Iran and Syria or risk the entire region becoming destabilized.

But what was most damning is what they didn’t say: Not once in the 142 page report did they use the words “democracy” or “victory.” These are the very two words that the President used the most in describing the reasons and results of invading Iraq.

In other words, it’s over.

There have been 3 basic ideas of what to do in Iraq:

1) Send more troops.
2) Pull the troops out and make Iraq step up.
3) Split the country into three distinct regions (Shiia, Sunni and Kurdish).

The problem? None of these options are good. The third option is the worst, and even the Study Group said it should not be considered. The country is too “integrated” for this to work. So that leaves us with sending in more troops, or bringing them home. The United States does not have the resources or the will right now to send as many troops as would really be needed, and more troops would mean more anger and violence. And while the Iraqi government does need to step up, the truth is that no matter where you are in the world, if you create a vacuum of power, radicals will stop at nothing to fill it. So then, the same thing will happen with either option: The violence will get worse and the country will descend into a deeper humanitarian crisis.

That means that we are left with either a bad option, or a bad option. Pick either one, and there will be more killing, more destruction, and the region will move ever close to complete destabilization. There is no magic solution. But maybe the real tragedy is that this really could have been prevented if the President had listened to the experts and planned ahead. I suppose the old adage is now true: Lack of planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.

From all of the interviews I have seen or read of locals in Baghdad, and from all the questions I have asked my family nearer to the region, the same answer to this question keeps coming up: Iraq needs another strong man. That’s right… another Saddam type person. In other words, we liberated Iraq so they would end up wanting something similar to what they were liberated from.

There are two issues here: First, was it right to invade Iraq? No. Second, was the invasion and occupation handled even close to well? No.

The American people were led to believe that invading Iraq would avenge and bring justice for 9-11. Somewhere in a cave between Pakistan and Afghanistan, a tall, bearded man must be smiling about how he attacked the most powerful country in the world, and they went barking up the wrong tree.

Pray for the peace of Iraq….

Read more of the Study Group details here.

stop the presses!

The alarm shrieked that electronic buzz for the third time, and I finally got out of bed. I put on my sweatshirt, looked with jealousy at my beautiful sleeping wife, turned up the heater, went out front and grabbed the paper, and then went into the bathroom for the morning sit-down.

I always open up to the Editorial section first. It is a good thing I was already sitting on the potty, because otherwise I would have messed my pajamas.

On Monday my very first Op-Ed piece was published in the Lexington Herald-Leader. I had no idea they were going to run it. Normally I hear they are supposed to call and tell you, but this time my network must have dropped the call. But there it was, a rather long piece with a cartoon attached from the Boston Globe. I didn't get paid a cent, but I feel like I peeked into the big time.

Besides actually being published, what freaked me out was the title. I have to say that I am very disappointed. No writer for a paper gets to pick their title... the editors do that. I have heard story after story of how the editor has ruined a great piece. I would have preferred something less sensational because I feel that my point was lost on many who would have stopped paying attention after the title. And I would have liked something that would not have been the same as painting a red target on my butt... I do live in Kentucky, after all.

But I figure that some voice is better than no voice at all. Yes, in many ways my analysis is too simplistic and I may be overstating the point. But there is only so much you can say about a topic that needs at least an entire book, but you are only given 700 words to state your case.

So read it and tell me what you think. Yes, it is controversial. And yes, I am a bit nervous. One friend asked if I had bought a life insurance policy lately. But no, I do not regret it. My voice is weak and the chorus is small, but we still have to sing...

Read the Op-Ed here.

turn down that base!

Note: Today’s blog is written in red in honor of World AIDS Day. Help make a difference by clicking here and making a phone call.

A funny thing happened to the Road to the Religious Right this week: A couple of the drivers tried to swerve left.

I have never really agreed with some of mega-church pastor Rick Warren’s popular theology (as outlined in The Purpose Driven Life). However, I am proud of the move he made this week. Today Warren is holding a “Global Summit on AIDS” at his church, and he asked Democratic Senator Barack Obama to speak. Well, apparently this has upset many leaders in the Evangelical community because Obama is a “liberal democrat” and a supporter of a woman’s right to choose.

Never mind that groups with different theologies and politics can, and should, find areas of moral cooperation when they are both working for the same cause… in this case stopping the horrors of AIDS.

The Christian Coalition is a group I have never had much respect for. They are the militant political arm of the Religious Right which champions only two causes: Abortion and gay marriage. This week their president-elect, Joel Hunter, resigned because – get this – the Coalition refused his idea of broadening their work to also include AIDS, poverty and the enviro