Every new person we meet, every new situation we are in, every new day that we greet, gives us opportunities for inner change, for enlightenment. We can choose to be open and see with new mental eyes and grow in our capacity to love with cleaner, more purified hearts.
But we'll never have the capacity for inner change unless we're aware of our inner obstacles to change. Our minds can shut down, or put up inner defenses against change. We need to be aware of those inner motives that we usually don't like to acknowledge that work against our capacity to change: our need for control, our need to protect our egos, our need to judge others as being morally or socially inferior so that we can feel superior and "better" than they are.
A few days ago, Paul and I met a new person at the nursing home where my severely demented mother is a resident. This beautiful, dark-skinned young woman is an aide who, we discovered. likes to sit in my mother's room, and relax, and visit with my Mom. She keeps her sweater hung over the back of a chair there, and asked us if that was all right. Of course it is, we assured her. How great for Mom to have "extra" company!
She spoke with a musical accent. Paul asked her where she was from originally. She came from the Ivory Coast in Africa, and her accent is French because that's the official language there. Her sister, living in the United States, was recently denied permission to visit family in the Ivory Coast because of Ebola, which our new friend explained, was very hurtful because there is no Ebola in the Ivory Coast. Africa is such a big continent, we all agreed. People don't realize how different the nations are that make up this huge continent.
Then it came, out of no where. Looking into our smiling faces, she said "I am a Muslim. My mother raised me to be a good Muslim. We have Christians in our family too, and everyone gets along. I told the people here at the nursing home that I was a Muslim when they wanted to hire me, and they said that it was all right."
"Do you pray several times a day?" I asked. "I think that's so admirable. Do you have a prayer rug?'
She smiled at me. Her eyes were so beautiful, full of warmth and love. "Yes. Five times a day. I keep my prayer rug in my car, and I pray when I'm on break. We all worship the same God."
"Yes," Paul and I said together, "whatever Name we have for God, we worship the same God."
"And," Paul said, "we all have the same Greater Jihad, to become purified and grow in our love for God and each other."
She nodded, intensely in agreement. Somehow our spirits were becoming closely interwoven as we shared our love for God. Of course we all knew that we had some different beliefs. We could still be united in the beliefs and love for God that we shared.
"Did you ever hear of Rumi?" I asked her. "He was a Muslim Sufi, a wise man, deeply spiritual, a great religious poet."
"No," she said. "I never heard of him or of the Sufis. I always want to know more about my faith. Could you please write down 'Rumi' and 'Sufi' so when I go home I can look them up on the Internet?"
I wrote the words down for her. She bent over to me on the chair where I was sitting, holding Mom's hand, and gave me a quick, spontaneous hug, her warm cheek pressed to mine.
"Thank you," she said, and left to deliver lunches to the residents.
Paul and I looked at each other, a deep warmth pervading our minds and hearts and souls, knowing more stereotypes had been shattered in our hearts. We had just been changed - by a young woman courageous enough to acknowledge and live her religious beliefs in a country where there is currently much hatred for and distrust of all Muslims. We had just been given enlightenment: a vision of a society where Christians and Muslims could live together in peace, as this young woman's family does. And the three of us had just formed one precious, small oasis of Divine Peace.
That wise old soul Rumi would have agreed with Jesus on change, because Rumi said "Yesterday, I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today, I am wise, so I am changing myself."
The Holy Spirit, so unpredictable, blows wherever the Spirit wills. Somewhere God was laughing. Who knew there would come a day when I would have the opportunity to help someone learn more about their Muslim faith?