In the end, we will all be surprised...

Saturday, September 21st, was the 2019 Rumi Festival hosted by the Rumi Poetry Club of Salt Lake and the Salt Lake City Library Marmalade Branch. My friend Rasoul Shams, a Rumi translator and "evangelist", club lead and author of several books of Rumi translations and essays, invited me to share a few thoughts about the influence of a man who is still the top-selling poet in the US, centuries after his passing.

Here is what I shared -

In the end, we will all be surprised

--Rumi

When John F. Kennedy decided to run for President, he had to speak in a national forum and apologize for being Catholic.

Although this country is founded on a promise of free practice of faith and thought, this is rarely the case in media arenas. Almost two decades ago, a quarter of the world population was held responsible for the terrible actions of two dozen evil men, due largely to popular media.

This shocking response inspired me to begin actively learning from my Muslim neighbors and spiritual siblings, and sharing what I learned through art. From a secular standpoint, I have learned tools for listening, understanding, and respecting the views of others, as well as expanding my critical thinking. Surprisingly (to some), rather than diluting my own Christian faith this journey deepened my personal spirituality.

I was motivated to train as an interfaith chaplain, and received my Fine Arts degrees in sculptural stained glass and comparative humanities. I began building sculptures that are meditations on the traditional Sufi 99 Names of God, and studied Rumi, Attar, Ibn ‘Arabi, and other Persian and Turkish writers. Eventually, this work caught the attention of a couple universities in Iran.

What you seek is seeking you (Rumi)

In 2017 I was awarded a fellowship to study philosophy of Islamic art in Iran, hosted by the Islamic School of Art and the University of Religions and Denominations in Qom, Iran. A semester’s worth of work was crammed into a couple weeks, and in addition to meeting with the most accomplished experts in their various fields – philosophy, calligraphy, painting, filmmaking, and others – I was privileged to see some of the most beautiful creations humans have ever conceived.

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I’ll meet you there (Rumi)

While getting ready for my trip, many well-meaning concerns and observations were leveled at me. “They hate foreigners.” “Everyone is ignorant.” “All the streets are filled with rubble.” “There’s no freedom of religion – you’ll have to hide the fact you’re Christian.” “How will you communicate?” “They’re going to lock you up because you believe in freedom.”

And I admit – I was a bit apprehensive. I was absolutely thrilled for the experience, but I was not looking forward to traveling for 27 hours each way. And seeing 4 US border security agents with submachine guns along the plane causeway as I was boarding my international flight from Texas was, to say the least, a tad unnerving.

My experience was completely counter to all expectation.

I’d like to share just three examples.

We visited the National Music Museum in Tehran. This is a beautiful building, converted from a 19th-century palace. The top story houses digital files and antique radios, the basement is a living museum where you can play historical instruments alongside world-renowned experts, and the rest is an interactive display where each room is built to mimic the interior of instruments displayed. That is, the Hall of Drums makes you feel like you’re inside a giant drum, and individual earpieces give you the history of each item you examine.

As our group walked through the Hall of Woodwinds to witness the evolution of the Ney, I said to the only other American “This makes me miss my home in the reedbed.” The gentlemen behind us, the Head Curator of the museum and a Ministry official, thought my comment was funny – but they only laughed when my American fellow replied “Didn’t Rumi say something about that?”

There is a Light in us that has nothing to do with Night or Day (Rumi)

This second experience was surreal.

It started with an altercation – an antique gentleman was enraged at the thoughtless disrespect shown him by a 20-something young man. I heard the older man yelling, and the younger man apologizing repeatedly as the older man was attempting to smack him. The first time it happened I guiltily admit I followed the gathering crowd to satisfy my curiosity – but the crowd was coalescing not to cheer on a fight, but to stop it. People stepped in between the two men and gently separated them, a Citron pulled up at the same time as a motorcycle with a sidecar, the two men were helped to the different vehicles and driven off. I asked my guide if these people were family of the two fighting.

“No” he replied, “no one here knows each other.”

“Where are they going, then?” I asked.

“They are taking them home, where they can calm down and talk about it tomorrow.”

“If they don’t know the two men, why are they helping?” I asked.

“No one needs to fight like this. When they calm down, they will come to their senses and it will all be alright.”

I witnessed this again – complete and utter strangers painlessly separating combatants, and bringing peace to their neighbors.

Love is an emerald. Its brilliant light wards off dragons on this treacherous path (Rumi)

And a third experience –

There is a mosque in Isfahan, built over a vaulted hall. The entrance is a dark hallway heading southeast, and when you get to the end, you turn right to enter the mosque – as you emerge from the darkness to face the Mihrab and Mecca, the mosque explodes with light and brilliant color.

Looking up, the dome rests on a circular clerestory of large windows and narrow frames, so it looks like the entire dome is suspended on a ring of light. The designs on every surface vibrate with energy and life, and the whole structure makes you feel as if you just emerged from ordinary life into an atrium of Heaven. Stepping to the Mihrab you can read on either side where the architect signed his work – no name, but he states that the building was built by a “Wayfarer on the Path to Truth”.

It doesn’t matter what faith was responsible for the building, but it’s like what Mehmet II said when he entered the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul – “It doesn’t matter who built it or used it, this is a home for God”.

Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself (Rumi)

Going to Iran to study philosophy of Islamic art was amazing – the ghost of Rumi is intense and everywhere, and people were kind, considerate, educated, and wonderful. In fact, the only person I met who didn’t speak English was a taxi driver. Hmmm. And the experience taught me a very powerful lesson.

Gandhi said “I may be Buddhist, Christian, Muslim, Jewish, or Hindu – but before I am any of these, I am human.” Regardless of where we are on the planet, we as humans have so much more in common than the few piddly things which make us “different”.

When we go with an open heart, wanting to be filled and looking for the light in others, we are rarely disappointed.

As Rumi said, “There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground. There are a thousand ways to go home again.”