I like my internist a lot. He is a kind, gentle man, patient and caring, who offers sound advice. I got him by default in the busy multi-physician practice to which I go, when others left or shifted positions. I am grateful for that serendipity. My last visit with him was pretty routine. We went through the usual banter. I teased him about his frequent flier miles, since he frequently travels to Texas to see his wife, who now works there, as a pediatrician. He asked me about interval events since my last visit with him. “Nothing much,” I said. “Just another silent MI, a bunch of tests, and Dr. K (my cardiologist) changed my blood pressure medicine.” Then he examined me, reviewed my chart and said, “Yes, I see that your EF is now down to between 35 and 40 percent.” His face became thoughtful. “ You know, I think we ought to try again to put you back on a statin. I’m going to prescribe Crestor. Even if you only take it every other day, it will help.” I said, “I agree. I’m willing to try it again.” After writing that prescription, and setting up labs for the next visit, he got up, smiled, shook my hand, and turned to leave the room. At that point, our relationship became quite different than it had ever been before.
That is because he did not leave the room. He got as far as the door, had his hand on the knob, paused, partially shut the door, then turned and came up close to me. “You know, I read your book. Did you know that I am a Muslim?” I got this surprised look on my face, and immediately responded, “No. But that’s good.” It immediately occurred to me that this was an inappropriate thing for me to say. I did not know if he was a devout Muslim or not. I did not know if he espoused all aspects of his religion, which has, as do all our religions, a highly moral pole, and a highly violent pole. I did not know if he believed mostly in Muslim love, mostly in Muslim anger, or both together equally. I did feel honored that he was finally willing to confide in me as to his religious faith.
“We have an interfaith meeting on Monday the fifteenth, in Columbus. It’s sponsored by the Muslims. I invite you to attend it with me. I said, “I think I would like to go with you.” He said, “Dr. S. is also going. He will pick you up, take you there, and take you home after the meeting. I will be coming down from Cleveland, and will meet you there. We will have some Arabic food; then we usually have four speakers, one from each of the faiths. After that, they usually have an open floor, with questions from the audience. I think you would enjoy it.” “Thank you very much,” I said. “I greatly appreciate your inviting me, and will look forward to it.” ‘Then I will call,’ he said. “I will get tickets for you and my friends, and register you for the meeting.” Then he did finally leave the room. By the time I got home, there was an email on my computer, with those arrangements and reservations outlined. I greatly anticipated that evening, expecting to feel uplifted
Picture a large auditorium sized meeting room filled with 250 people, all of them jovial and friendly, smiling, shaking hands, hugging, and wearing name tags. Each of the tables is filling up with attendees, all of them engaged in animated discussion, gesturing, waving hands, and shouting to be heard. In the back of the room, there is a row of food trays, with savory contents and bustling attendants. In the front of the room, there is a stage, with four chairs at a table, and a podium for the master of ceremonies, a young lady wearing a black head scarf. She speaks in a pleasant, melodious and cultured voice. During our meal, all of us exchange thoughts about our religions. “It’s not our religions that are at fault,” he shouts. “People use their religion for their own personal reasons, and justify their actions based on their religion. “They do violent things because, they say, their religion tells them that this is what they should do,” he said. “It’s just not so,” he says. “Our religions are good, if we use them like we should.” “Most of the violence done in the name of our religions is actually done for personal reasons of lust, revenge or greed,” I say. He shakes his head emphatically, in agreement, “We have to all learn to respect each other, and respect each other’s religion,” he says. “We are all brothers.” I nod my head, as an amen to what he has to say, trying to save my voice as the speakers are introduced, one by one.
Each of the speakers is eloquent, thoughtful, and well prepared. Each cites the major beliefs of his religion. The Hindu, the Muslim, the Christian and the Jew all declare that we are in this one world together, and must respect each other, each other’s beliefs. There is so much love, friendship and respect in the room, I can hardly stand it. I agree completely with what they have to say. I am thrilled to see this effort by this large volume of people to bring our religions together. I am grateful for my physician Muslim friend being kind enough to invite me, and share in this effort. But none of the speakers, none of the questioners from the audience, and none of the discussants mentions, or shows any recognition of, the elephant in the room. This elephant is snorting mucous, trampling on tables, and passing noxious gas. Yet all these people assembled here seem oblivious to his presence. That elephant is: What are we going to do about the members of our religions who emphasize the violent tenets of their mythology? They kill, destroy and rape – but have the same religious beliefs as all these loving people in that room.
Afterward, as we all made friendly parting remarks, and everyone made their way to go home, they were all smiling. They all seemed uplifted and fulfilled by this evening of camaraderie. I felt empty.
Human behavior does not improve with unconditional love. Human behavior does not improve with violence. Both these extreme poles of our religions threaten our societies. Human behavior, and then our society, only grow and become more nurturing, with tough love. Those who kill, murder and rape must be stopped with whatever it takes to end that criminal behavior. But first, we need to get rid of that part of our religious mythologies which preaches death and/or torture for all those who have different beliefs.
Setting a loving example is wonderful. Showing respect for all other beliefs is heavenly. Unless those displays of brotherhood also address the violent poles of our religions, however, and search for ways to eliminate those violent tenets of our religions, that display of love is empty.
One really good thing came out of that meeting. I now have a Muslim friend.
May 20, 2017