Converting to Islam

My father's parents were Lutherans. My mother's parents were Methodists. After getting engaged, my mother converted to the Lutheran faith. Most Protestant denominations have similar worship settings, songs and readings. My brother and sisters and I went to St. Paul's Lutheran church in Streator, Illinois. I once considered being a Lutheran minister, inspired by our Pastor Gabel.

We were active in the church, although my father was the golf professional at the local country club, and for much of the spring and fall, and all of the summer, he worked on Sundays, our day of worship. Even though my father worked, my mother made sure that all the children attended church services, and Sunday School too.

Confirmation lasts two years and starts in seventh grade. To complete confirmation, at a special church service the students are questioned about Martin Luther's Catechism, which had to be memorized, because any question from that book might be asked.

God blessed our family with musical gifts. I sang solos in church from age five and onwards. My sister played flute and I played piano in a duet at a church concert. We still have a photograph of the event, a family treasure.

I served as an acolyte the first ones to the altar to begin the service and light the candles - fourteen of them, seven on each side. I always feared that my wick would go out, and I would fail to light all the candles in this solemn ceremony, but that never happened.

I started playing church league basketball at the YMCA on Saturdays, in fourth grade. In seventh grade I started, at guard, the shortest player in the lineup. Our wonderful coach, Rip Cipollo, played football when my father coached that team.

We won the championship that year. At the church celebration dinner, My father, then the varsity wrestling coach and golf coach gave the dinner speech intending to illustrate how fleeting are athletic glories. He asked who could identify three former star High School athletes who had record-breaking performances.

No one spoke, save for one young boy, me. I answered, correctly, each question. After my third correct answer, he said, "Son, you're making me look bad." Everyone laughed.

He intended to show that such memories were fleeting, temporary, ephemeral, but that the long-lasting lessons -- sportsmanship, teamwork, discipline, fellowship, community, and love were lasting.

We moved to Barrington, Illinois, in 1964. At our new church, my parents and I sang with the senior choir, and I sometimes played the organ. When the Minister, Pastor Arthur Knudsen recited the Lord's Prayer taught by Prophet Jesus to his disciples:

Our Father, Who art in Heaven

Hallowed be Thy Name.

Thy Kingdom come. Thy Will be done,

On earth, as it is in Heaven.

Give us this day, our daily bread.

And forgive us our debts,

as we forgive our debtors.

And lead us not into temptation,

But deliver us from evil.

For Thine is the Kingdom,

and the Power, and the Glory,

Forever and ever.

Amen.

he RACED through it, as if in a rush to finish. How disappointing. I had so loved Pastor Gabel's solemn measured delivery, pausing in certain places, and emphasizing certain words in ways that filled me with wonderment and awe. I felt cheated by the accelerated recitation.

I was confirmed and astonished to be told in advance which question to answer. This meant not having to memorize the Catechism, just one small part of it.

Being confirmed meant I could partake of Holy Communion, to go to the altar to eat bread and take a small sip of wine, representing the body, blood and sacrifice of Jesus.

Once I started caddying, there was no more church on Sundays, from April through October and I began to turn my away from God, in pursuit of money.

I began delivering Sunday morning newspapers homecoming night, in 1968. I had to be at the paper place by 2:15 a.m. to stuff, fold and wrap the papers, pile them up into the car, squeeze in and then drive and deliver. I stayed up all night Saturday (no sleeping), and then went to church. After falling asleep and snoring during the sermon two weeks in a row, my embarrassed mother gave me permission to stay home and sleep.

Pursuing money, I left the church and turned away from God for twenty-one years, only attending on special services: Christmas Eve, Easter, Weddings, Funerals. This is typical of many Christians around age 18 (or earlier). But God never turned away from me.

Life is interesting. We all experience times of joy and triumph, from which we tend to learn nothing, but hopefully appreciate. We all have times of tragedy and despair which are far more important, because when we feel broken, despised, and unworthy, we have the opportunity to learn, and to understand what mistakes we have made.

And in those times of deepest despair, we become humbled, and find a place in our minds and hearts for Allah, who has always loved us. With nothing else to fall back on, when the world and its ways have failed us, when our friends and family cannot be there for us, in those moments comes an awareness, that there is still One who will save us, who will guide us, who will keep us safe and secure.

And in those times of deepest despair, we regain our humanity, so often lost in material pursuits, and seeking physical comforts. Material pursuits, and physical comforts are like a spider's web that can trap us and wrap us up into ourselves. They can be Satan's snare. Without knowledge of The One God, whom we Muslims call Allah, and without submission to His will, we are lost, no more secure than dust in the wind. Without submission to Allah's will, we become like animals, caught in Satan's snare.

When I was this broken of spirit, a new pastor, Dr. Said Ailabouni, a Palestinian Arab, guided by God's hand, reached out to me, to extend to me a life line. I returned to church to sing with the choir, to ring with the bell choir, to cantor, and play piano once a month for the contemporary worship setting.

My son was born and I came to see this child as Allah's Supreme Act of Forgiveness for my turning away. My son is a delight, a bright light shining in a world needing illumination, searing through the darkness.

I joined more church activities, and began to read the Holy Scriptures of the Protestant faith, the Holy Bible.

Muslim children whose parents love them enough to see that they go to Sunday School, to see that they learn the Qu'arn, are blessed, gifted by Allah. But for each blessing and for each gift, there is a price. To learn the words of the Qu'arn, to learn of the Prophet's life (pbuh) as a child, means often to learn only with the mind. Continued study is required for the heart to come to know.

Christians rarely read the bible. Often ignorant of all its contents, of all its wisdom, of all its guidance, of all its contradictions. Until I began my studies, I lived in ignorance.

And as I studied, I was delighted at much of what I found -- wisdom and guidance. But disillusionment followed. While helping explain some things, along with a dozen or so books I read about it, about Christianity, and about Prophet Jesus, the more I found the bible to be a corrupted text. For God would not want to confuse His children so. The Old Testament fixations on the god of wrath, anger, vengeance and jealousy was wrong. How could the Hebrews be chosen and favored? And some of the New Testament was written to please Rome.

But Allah loves ALL his children equally. My heart and soul know this: Allah loves ALL his children equally. Allah has no chosen people, elevated above others. Allah has created us all. Although, some of his children please Him greatly and gain His Favor, and some of them cause Him pain, and lose His Favor. Allah loves us all.

I enjoy meeting people, talking with them, gaining some of their knowledge, sharing their wisdom, hearing their stories. The Muslims I have met have overwhelmingly impressed me with their kindness, their compassion, their intelligence, their knowledge, their patience.

Zafar, a Muslim from Pakistan, worked at the Shell station on Main Street and Northwest Highway in Barrington from 10 p.m. until 6 a.m. I would visit, usually after midnight, staying for hours, sometimes until his shift ended. We discussed world affairs, politics, poetry, faith and religion.

Zafar once said to me, "You are a Holy Man of God." How astonishing. I have felt just that, for many years, having been forgiven by Allah, and having seen, heard and felt His miracles and works manifest on earth, in my sons eyes, in the cardinal's song, in the dew on the morning grass, in the heavens on a full moon night, in the flash of the thunderbolts, in the blooming of the magnolias, in the change of the seasons, in the eyes of the children at church. And what an irony, that a Muslim would see this, but that Christians have not.

The man whose critical reading skills I most admire, Mike Huston, a former college professor of English literature, recommended two authors to me: Leo Shlain and Karen Armstrong who have written about the Prophet (pbuh). Western minds, western eyes, western hearts, and they laud and write praises of the Prophet (pbuh) and Islam.

So, from reading their writings, I knew, that to the Prophet (pbuh) was the Divine Word of Allah revealed. And I came to know that Islam should be my faith. One evening last January (2007), I went to visit and greet my Muslim friends working at another gas station with "Akbar, Akbar, Allahu Akbar", the only Arabic I knew. My friend's daughter was working there instead. I mentioned my wish to convert to Islam. She gave her phone number, and instructed me to call her father for directions to the Mosque. She invited me to convert that very Sunday.

When one listens, one will hear Allah's call. I answered. The blessings that have since rained down like grace upon me are so bounteous, that my head would spin, except that in the assurance of Allah's Love and Beneficence, He will guide me along the straight path. I need fear nothing of this world, except for losing His favor. All that is required is to submit to Him.

I surrender.

And I submit, humbly and gladly, and my ummah has been enlarged by more than one billion brothers and sisters. And I walk my path, secure in faith, confident in Allah's continued blessings, learning His words, and learning of His Will.

And I now understand in my heart the the Doxology in a deeper and more profound way than ever I would have understood it as one born into the Christian faith.

Praise Allah from Whom All Blessings flow.

Praise Him all creatures here below.

Praise Him above ye heavenly host.

Praise Allah, Prophets, Holy Ghost.