Common Word, Common Lord

Common Word, Common Lord


If They Only Knew…

In the Name of God, the Most Compassionate, the Most Merciful

Clearly, those Christian “patriots” who want to silence TLC’s “All-American Muslim” series have no idea what is in our scripture and our faith about Jesus Christ and the Blessed Virgin. Clearly, these people have no idea about Islam in general. Otherwise, they would not try to bully advertisers into dumping “All-American Muslim” for a truly silly reason: that the Muslims on “All-American Muslim” are “too ordinary.”

No, my house is not decked out with lights or a Christmas tree. Yet, I still love Jesus so very much. As this poem I penned attests:

 

What was it like, when you stood there alone?
Praying in the East, on you His Light ever shone?

What was it like, when the angel came before thee?
Frightening you greatly, shattering your tranquility?

What was it like, when you were told the news:
That unto you was born the Messiah of the Jews?

Did you not know, that you were more than worthy?
That God chose you above all, that He favored you greatly?

Did you not know, that before you came to be,
The Lord already declared that magnificent were thee?

What was it like, when the Spirit was blown:
When our master was conceived, a miracle to be shown?

What was it like, as you left in fear?
Afraid of the slander that may be placed in the ear?

How did it feel, when the pangs came in earnest?
Did you feel deserted, that the Lord had no interest?

What did it sound like, when our master to you spoke?
How soothing was his voice, covering you like a cloak?

How sweet was the fruit that fell from the tree?
Did it comfort your mind, fill you with tranquility?

How sharp were the stares when, with him, you arrived?
Did their shock give you pain, that they would think you would connive?

How powerful was his voice, when he proclaimed the truth?
Were they amazed by his grace, as he shattered the lies of the uncouth?

O Blessed Mother, upon you I perpetually pray for peace.
And also upon your son, I pray blessings cover him as a fleece.

And if, O Blessed Soul, I get a chance to kiss your hand,
It would be the most honored place I could ever stand!

 

 



  • http://AddaURLtothiscomment Haime52

    While it is very interesting that Muslims venerate the “Blessed Virgin”, and she was indeed blessed, do Muslims also veiw her as a perpetual virgin, as do the Catholics? According to the Bible, Joseph did no “know” her until after she delivered her first born son, Jesus. If Mary was, indeed, a virgin mother, pregnant as a result of direct intervention of God, as you say, “when the Spirit was blown:
    When our master was conceived, a miracle to be shown?”, then He Jesus had to indeed be the Son of God, not just a prophet.

  • http://AddaURLtothiscomment Hannah Treves

    The poem is truley beautiful; It brought tears to my eyes. Your words on “ordinary Muslims” made me smile. I was in a K-Mart pharmacy waiting for a prescription when an elderly woman tugged gently on my hijab and said “Sister, I love your habit.” I turned to her and thanked her and then I explained that I was not a Roman Catholic nun. She was a little confused and said, “But you answered when I called you Sister.” I told her that I was Muslim and that, as such, we usually called each other Sister or Brother.For an instant, she looked terrified and I stifled an urge to say “I’m not here to blow up K-Mart.” She blurted out, “I didn’t know there were any of you around here.” I told her there were not many of us but we popped up just about everywhere. She went back to searching for an OTC medication for her husband. I told her I was a Registered Nurse and asked if I could help her find what she was looking for. We found what she needed and she thanked me and said “I didn’t know Muslims had nurses.” I smiled and replied “Nurses,housewives, Doctors,teachers, garbage men, soldiers; We do pretty much the same thing everybody else does.” She said she did not know that and was going to tell her husband because he thought all you do is…” and then she stopped. I finished her sentence, “All we do is run around blowing things up?” She nodded. I explained that those who do that are not following our religion and we do not like them any better than any other American. She asked, “Muslim soldiers, are they in our Army?” I assured her that they were. She told me she was so glad to have met me and I told her the feeling was mutual. The pharmacist called my name, and before I went to the counter, she whispered, “I do wish our nuns would wear what you have on; I miss the way they used to look.” She asked what my ‘habit’ was called and I told her it was called an hijab. She laughed a little and said, “They both start with the same letter, you never know!” I recount this because I am just an ordinary American and an ordinary Muslim. She was an ordinary American and an ordinary Christian. A few minutes of talking showed that we were not so very different, after all.

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