|
|
I had been taught to respect ministers of all religions since childhood. When I arrived in United States in 1962, my regard for ministers began to change to something less than respect, after I saw Evangelical ministers perform "faith healing" and other silly acts on TV. I was spellbound. These dionysian excesses could not be anything but de-moralization of Christianity by the same people who vaunted it: zealots begetting healing to beget victims to beget money. It fascinated me that Americans, the most advanced people on earth, practiced religion so primitively. I was puzzled even more by the fact that many Americans actually believed these parasitic orators of gobbledygook who decked out banal arguments in sanctimonious garments. I wondered why. It seemed these forlorn people were terrified; fears and worries had eaten away their common sense. I had not seen anything like this before.
Mother (Zekiye, ages 16 to 21): at home in Giresun (1935), with friends at the American Girls' School
in Merzifon (1934-1938), (with hat) at the American Girls' Lyceum In Uskudar, Istanbul (1939).
It was not
until Aug. 20, 1976 that I witnessed something that held me
spellbound like this again. This happened in Mecca. I saw
thousands of people covered by a white towel-like material
walking stoically around the Kaaba. I was told that they were
required to walk around it seven times. Some people circled it
continuously. There was no TV or artificial contraptions around.
For a moment I felt as if I had been taken back to the time of
Mohammed. Like their American counterparts, these decent people
thought they were pleasing Allah. None of them had the
independence of mind to ask why Allah would care if people walked
around a stone. Like the Jews who kissed and prayed to a wall in
Jerusalem, they had been told this was the thing to do and they
were doing it, forsaking all common sense. Here I could not blame
a minister. I blamed religion: the way people practiced it, the
way people had been taught to practice it.
I met my first American girlfriend through my sister Femsi, in the dormitory in 1962. She was Janet (18) from Wheeling, WV. Her parents were warm and friendly. By 1963, we were inseparable. One day, she said she wanted me to accompany her and her mother to the Syria Mosque in Pittsburgh. A famous Evangelical minister who had rehabilitated gang members in New York was going to preach about young people. This was an opportunity for me to assimilate deeper to the American culture. I accepted the invitation as an experience. We sat next to the stage. The minister was inspiring and the occasion was educational. Then came the final part. All young people who had sinned were urged to come to the stage to redeem their soul, whatever this meant.
People were congregating on the platform. I had done nothing beyond what young men normally do. I did not know what I should construe as sinned. This man was asking me to come on stage so that I could redeem my soul. I did not see a connection. I knew by then that many American phrases sounded profound without saying anything. While I stood there puzzled, my girlfriend and her mother began to pull and push me to the stage. I did not feel a void in my soul and refused to be moved. My girlfriend started to cry and beg me. I became angry and asked her "are you telling me this man is a novice and cannot perform these miracles if we remain seated?" We made a scene. Everyone probably thought I was a hard case who should have grabbed this chance. Finally, she walked alone to the platform and prayed for both of us. This was only my first experience.
In June 1981, I was visiting my friends Ken and Nancy in San Diego. Out of curiosity I accompanied their nephews and nieces to a Bible-reading class in a church. There were more than a hundred people there. The Bible part was fine, but then the minister started a sermon about foreigners. The speech continued about five minutes and he was speaking predominantly to a young audience. I could not believe my ears. This man was impressing on them in a hateful tone why they had to avoid non- Christians. The group around me was embarrassed. At the end of this poisonous service, the man waited outside the door and shook hands with the attendants as they emerged. He extended his hand to me. I gave him a cold look and said "I am one of those foreigners you spoke about; the last thing I want to do is shake the hand of someone like you." The artificial smile on the man's face froze for a moment, but he was an experienced charlatan. The smile came back as he shook hands with the next person.
This had not been a small incident. Over his professional life this one minister would pollute thousands of souls. I already knew by then that America had a large population of xenophobic Christians. I began to despise these ministers for what they were doing. The "kids" eventually stopped going to the Bible class and to church. I thought it was healthier for them to grow in an environment that did not shove sin, guilt, and hate down their young throats. Be as it may, this was not yet my most memorable experience with Evangelical ministers.
Since religion affected people at soul level, we were not comfortable with what we were seeing and experiencing. Independence and freedom had to mean more than mobility and pursuit of happiness. The mind had to be independent and free before any other freedom could be exercised freely. Even democracy could not function properly without common sense. What I saw on TV in United States and what I witnessed in Saudi Arabia later were not religion. They were instances of acutely malfunctioning common sense. As far as I could discern their motives, these pusillanimous people were trying hard to endear themselves to God and bribe their way to heaven.
Click the "Back" button on your browser to return to the menu.