An Ecumenical Ash Wednesday

Well, maybe the theory of my liberal pastor friend at Hampton Park Christian Church is not always true. I'd written in this 4th post on traditional vs contemporary worship about his theory that "the most liberal and contemporary churches in style tend to be the most conservative and traditional in their theology (CedarCreek for example). And likewise, the most liberal and contemporary churches theologically tend to be the most traditional/conservative in their worship styles (Episcopal Churches)".

I had visited some examples confirming his theory over Holy Week of 2008: St. Michael's in the Hills Episcopal Church, Trinity Episcopal Church and St Andrew's Episcopal Church on the liberal side and CedarCreek on the conservative side. Yet, I knew of the churches on both sides of the spectrum, not validating this theory.

My experience with this ecumenical Ash Wednesday in Carbondale was such an example. This was a joint service by Church of the Good Shepherd (a UCC church) and First Presbyterian Church, both liberal churches. The former is an interesting place. What do you think about a church that has a forum for live folk music? Interesting? Maybe. But as a poor student, I'm not interested in any music forum that requires me to make suggested donations (read buying tickets). Even if it be 5 bucks. Make it free and I'll be more than happy to make observations. Anyway.

First thing I noticed in the program was their instructions about Prayer Stations: "You are invited to spend time at one or more stations at anytime during the service". Anytime during the service? Come on. When people attend a service, shouldn't they do things in unison, instead of being individuals on their own? Personally, I found it distracting.

And my visit to those stations at the end of the service made me correct a false assumption: those stations were not Stations of the Cross. Rather, they were completely progressive (post-post-modern) prayers and meditations. One station even had pads and crayons for people to make graphic depictions of salvation. Or there was a station where people would write about their mistakes and put in a bowl (to get rid of it). Or another one had a sand box for people to draw their sins in the sand and then smoothen it with their hand as a sign of shedding their sins. Got the idea?

And that was not all. When it came to the Communion, it was a self-service table in the middle of the chairs where people would go there and pick a piece of bread and dip it in the wine or grape juice (although a more formal sacrament followed at some point later in the service). And there was instructions for this also: "The bread is Christ's body broken for you - you need not take a small pinch. Take freely and generously from the loaf".

The meditation on starting Lent was even more interesting. It was a skit by the two pastors. The male pastor (UCC) was gloomy and solemn about starting his fasting period. The female pastor (Presbyterian) countered him by singing a very jolly song about Lent (she is jolly in real life as well). He continued nagging and even found it inappropriate to sing a jolly song for a such a solemn thing as Lent. She continued singing and then explained to him why Lent should be a happy time: "it is a time that we are guests of God". Amen.

This is exactly how we Muslims look at Ramadhan, our month of fasting. In Islamic teachings, Ramadhan is called the Banquet of God. By avoiding pleasures of the body, we enrich our spirit. Have a look here, here and here for my reflections on my past 2 Ramdhans in the US.

Eventually, the male pastor was convinced that Lent should be a happy time and he joined his colleague in singing happily (of course, this was a skit; both were of the same mind in reality). The rest of the service was more or less routine.

What was not normal however was the setting. Instead of sitting at the pews in the sanctuary, they had put chairs at the back in a circle with the table in the middle. So, basically we were in the sanctuary, but had our own cozy corner in the back. And I couldn't quite understand why. Maybe sitting in the pews of a host church while members of another church are there as guests, doesn't make it completely ecumenical. The host would have an upper hand and not on the same ground as the guest? Maybe, maybe not. I've been to ecumenical services before and they used the sanctuary in the ordinary way.

As I was hurried for a meeting after the service, I couldn't stop by the pastors and ask about this and my other questions. I should visit each of the churches in the future to get a better understanding about how each of them would perform their own services.

Happy Birthday Charles!

When you're in a liberal school you should be proud of your liberal heritage. And part of this should be fighting evil unscientific things such as Creationism or Intelligent Design. Long live Charles Darwin! Or to be more creative, Happy Birthday Charles Darwin!

We had a series of events this week celebrating the 200th birthday of Charles Darwin. I'm not going to discuss about scientificity of Creationism or Intelligent Design or Evolutionism. All these debates come out of literal interpretation of the Bible. Even Darwin himself didn't propose his theory to deny Creation. But one thing struck me going to a couple of these events.

Ardent supporters of Evolutionism, discredit Creationism as a doctrine that comes out of religion, not science (as if the two are mutually exclusive). They find Intelligent Design equally abhorrible (if not more), because it is basically the same old non-scientific Creationism disguised as a scientific theory. But I found something in common over these events which were supposedly about the promotion of science, scientific thinking and rationality over irrationality and dogma.

What I saw, basically amounted to efforts to expose the conspiracy and stupidity of those Creationists who sell their Intelligent Design as a scientific theory. Exposing the conspiracy of some people or making fun of them, instead of refuting their arguments (or doing so just as a minor side theme) doesn't sound much like a scientific method. And building your arguments in a way to draw emotional laughs and jeers at those fanatic idiot naive religious conspirators doesn't give you much a feeling like being in a scientific or rational environment.

While sitting in these events, I had a feeling of being among fanatics, just of a different variety; instead of believing in Creationism, they had a different religious doctrine: Evolutionism. And they expressed their emotions and religious fervor exactly the same way as the people whom they tried to discredit as irrational and unscientific.

Well, let's go to the fun stuff. The last and the most interesting of these events was the birthday celebration of Charles Darwin. It began with yet another exposé movie about those cloaked Creationists. And it was followed by a break to have refreshments. Yay, cookies and cakes. And even a real birthday cake. And they had announced about a surprise guest (that could be easily guessed). We found Charles Darwin out there who had attended his birthday ceremony, holding his Origin of Species book dearly to his chest with a very venerable look. And there were a lot of enthusiastic fans who wanted to take pictures with their guru. Scientific environment, eh?

At one point, Darwin gave me an interested look. With my long hair and beard, I was the closest in appearance to him (well, not white-haired, but Darwin has been young at some point in his life). And I was looking at him with interest. Maybe he was thinking I was a shy fan, feeling timid about asking for a photo-op.

Although I respect Darwin as a great scientist and I find his theories very interesting, I'm not a fan, not interested in taking photos in such a manner. At least, not with a reenactor of Darwin. If it had been the real Charles Darwin, maybe. But while I may not be an evolutionist (in its religious fanatic sense), I am definitely a very hard-core cookieist. Happy Birthday Charles!

UK Jewish MP: Israel acting like Nazis in Gaza

Ethnic cleansing is going on in Gaza unperturbed with the entire civilized world twiddling their thumbs. And nobody cares or dares saying anything, lest be labeled anti-semitist. Well, maybe there are still some who do care and dare.

This is an interesting speech by Gerald Kaufman, a self-acclaimed Zionist Jewish MP in the UK who has been friend with Golda Meir. And here's the transcript (in case you cannot watch the video). He goes as far as to liken Israeli crimes to those of Nazis. I wish Arab and Muslim world were at least as vocal and courageous as a Zionist Jew in support of victims in Gaza.

And while I'm not a big fan of George Galloway and some of his political views and background, I find this speech interesting. It should be informing for ignorant people who take for granted all the myths about the establishment of Israel, myths that are more or less similar to those about founding of the US by courageous people who made everything out of nothing in a wilderness. I have briefly addressed the issue in this post. He also deals with double standards of the West when it comes to Israel.

Yet, the most interesting thing I've received, comparing Israelis with Nazis has been by another Jew, Norman Finkelstein, who is not afraid of being labeled anti-semitist. A Jew being anti-semitist is quite an oxymoron, isn't it? How about an illiterate scholar? Or penniless rich?

And interestingly, both of his parents have been Holocaust survivors who have shared with him their horrible memories from Nazi camps. So, it should be quite understandable for him to be so outraged that THE GRANDCHILDREN OF HOLOCAUST SURVIVORS FROM WORLD WAR II ARE DOING TO THE PALESTINIANS EXACTLY WHAT WAS DONE TO THEM BY NAZI GERMANY.

Spring 2009 at SIU

This is my second semester at SIU. And just like my first semester, I've got issues with freedom of choice within academic marketplace. This semester, choices are even more limited. These are the only graduate Sociology courses offered :

Contemporary Sociological Theory
Special Topics - "Gender and Social Change"
Seminar in Social Problems

I took the Seminar in Social Problems. But I had no interest in repeating Contemporary Theory (I had taken a similar course in Toledo). But this semester, I was not even given the option of taking a proficiency test to waive it. So I had to take it again. And I was not interested in taking a seminar in feminism, so I took a seminar in Anthropology department as my third course. It has a very long name, but I find it very interesting:

Seminar in Social and Millenarian Movements: Memory, History and Solidarity

Ashura in Carbondale

This is another unusual Ashura for me in the US. Actually, the third one. However, this is different than the first two in Toledo. While I was in Toledo, there were no Shia mosques in there. Yet, there was one Shia mosque within biking distance in Southern Michigan. And there were more further north. And sometimes my friends would give me a ride on occasions, especially for Ashura ceremonies. I enjoyed my Ashura experience last year.

But here in Southern Illinois, there isn't a Shia mosque even within driving distance. The nearest Shia mosques are to the western suburbs of St Louis. And that means about 3 hours of driving. I called 2 of my Iranian friends asking about the possibility of giving me a ride there. Given the importance of Ashura in Iranian culture, I assumed they would be interested in going there themselves as well. I was even willing to share the gas price, not to be a free rider. They told me they would call me back in the afternoon to arrange the time to pick me up. And none called back. And when I called them, they had changed their mind about going.

Well, it's true that God looks at your heart and the personal connection you make with Imam Hussein and you don't have to go to a mosque or Hussainia for that matter. But I really didn't feel like spending my Ashura in a lonely way, especially being cast away in a place like Carbondale. As an engineer, I had contingency plans. And an unusual one that I came upon through an unusual way.

I had got to know about Sufis in Carbondale by looking at my Google Analytics reports. I found that some people had landed on my blog by searching the keywords Sufi and Carbondale. There have been some posts in my blog where I had written about my Sufi friends while I was in Toledo. And oddly, Google had taken my current location (Carbondale) and had added that to the word Sufi scattered around my blog. Hey Google, do you call this intelligent search? When people search Sufi in Carbondale, they are looking exactly for that, not such an unintelligent search result combo.

Thinking about the possibility of Sufis being in a cultural desert like Carbondale sounded surprising to me. I searched the words myself. I had a hard time finding them, partly because of unintelligent Google results and partly because these Sufis didn't seem to be much preoccupied with advertising about themselves. Their web presence was minimal without any address for their office in Carbondale. I persisted in my research and eventually could find their place.

I visited them and talked to their Murshid and found out that their reluctance about advertising for themselves was partly because of usual modesty and humility of Sufis in general who avoid publicity (and hence vanity) and partly as a result of post-911 anti-Islamic mania. He told me that even their Zekr sessions were looked upon with suspicion in the beginning and it took them quite some charity and social work to offset the anti-Islamic stupidity. And they were surprised (and found it funny) when they knew how I discovered about them through my blog and Google. By the end of the meeting I was invited to their Tekke. But as I was overwhelmed with my coursework and TA assignments last semester, I couldn't make it there for any of their Zekr sessions.

And then, I had this Ashura issue this year. I was already aware that Sufis (even non-Shia varieties) have affection for the family of the Prophet. So, I thought about attending their Tekke for Ashura. Just being in a place where people love Imam Hussein would be fine, even if they don't do the commemoration and mourning the way we Shia people do.

I visited their Tekke a few days before Ashura and had the possibility of a contingency plan in mind just in case. Like mainstream Sunnis, they believed in fasting on Ashura. We Shia people abstain from food and drink without the intention of fasting. Actually, the tradition of fasting on Ashura was established by corrupt Umayyad caliphs to celebrate the martyrdom of Imam Hussein and what they assumed to be their victory by killing the grandson of the Prophet and his family. Then, they forged some hadith to make it appear as an authentic Islamic tradition.

The Murshid explained to me that their fasting had nothing to do with the Sunni tradition, nor with those forged hadith, nor with such an historical background. To them, this fasting was mostly about purification of self and also remembrance of Imam Hussein and his family and their plight on the day of Ashura amid that barren desert. And in his sermon, he said something interesting: "We Sufis can keep our head up because of Imam Hussein." Hearing that from somebody who doesn't claim to be Shia was interesting to me, as this is primarily an integral part of Shia identity: we define ourselves and our identity by the relationship we have with Imam Hussein.

Although they don't usually have any weekly event on Tuesdays (this year, the night before Ashura), he scheduled one at my suggestion. The person who was reciting the story of Imam Hussein, Karbala and Ashura was an American convert (originally from San Fransisco). He stayed away from graphic details of what happened in Ashura and instead focused on historical highlights of what happened after Ashura. Well, we Shia people do remember those graphic details as it is part of the tragedy and combine the remembrance of those tragic events with historical importance of what happened afterwards. But anyway, just being in a place where people remember Imam Hussein was fine to me.

Exhaustion Therapy - 2

I'm not sure why I go on exhaustion-therapy. Do I do that to entertain myself or to provide entertainment for freedom-loving fun-loving dogs of this area? Seriously.

First time I tried to counter my psychological exhaustion of our orientation marathon by way of physical exhaustion, I was chased by loose dogs whose owners didn't feel like restraining them within the perimeter of their home. And although I enjoyed the nature, the stress of being chased by dogs, didn't let me really de-stress. All the while, the obsession about what happened to my advisor wouldn't leave me alone. Yet, I committed myself to another round of exhaustion-therapy before beginning my second semester at SIU.

And being certain that I would be chased by dogs didn't hinder me. Returning from Toledo made me even more depressed as I found myself in the same boring small-town isolated from everything and everywhere. People tell me that it's OK to live in a small town and you can visit bigger cities to have a change. Well, not a good solution for somebody who has grown up in a megacity and for better or worse is used to urban life. And contrasting this to my good time in my hometown, Toledo, made me feel worse when I returned (even though Toledo is much smaller than Tehran). Anyway.

This time, I chose Little Grand Canyon for my exhaustion-therapy. And I happened to pass by what I would call a dog farm. There were numerous dogs of various breeds in that farm who expressed their warm regards from afar, while trying to make it more personal. Fortunately, there was a fence keeping those enthusiastic greeters from running to the road.

And in addition to lovely canine fellows on my way there and back, Little Grand Canyon is home to some unsavory creatures as well: copperhead, cottonmouth and timber rattler. Yet, I was not much concerned that some of these creepy fellows might get sleepless and be added to my usual canine greeters. But as I got down the winding hilly country roads, I realized that there was something else that I had not accounted for at all.

Form time to time, I could hear gunshots. Yes, hunting. And thinking about the outgoing vice-president, I felt like this one could be a more serious concern; if somebody trying to pin down a low-flying game, aimed his gun too low, he couldn't see me from behind the dense vegetation separating the road from the country and well, my exhaustion-therapy could end up eternal. Quite a relaxing experience, eh?

After some adrenaline-producing relaxation, I reached my destination. Well, it was worth the physical exhaustion (and stress, while passing through the hunting zone en route). You could enjoy the gorgeous view of bluffs, canyons, the Big Muddy River and also Mississippi Valley in the distance. For some time, I could just imagine I was climbing the mountains to the north of Tehran. And it was so relaxing. That's the essence of exhaustion-therapy. Oddly enough, I didn't feel like taking photographs of all that gorgeous scenary (although I had brought my camera exactly for that matter). I wonder why.

On my way back, I was riding through Shawnee Hills Wine Trail. There are numerous wineries in this area and I had seen the road signs on my way to Little Grand Canyon. Although as a Muslim, I have no personal interest in wine, I have always been curious to see how a traditional winery looks like. I'm interested in anything old-fashioned (even be it winery). And well, there's the engineer inside me, always fascinated about learning new things, in this case contrasting the traditional way of making wine to the industrial way.

I dropped by one of the wineries. The owner offered me free samples, which I had to decline (as politely as I could). I'm not sure what would have he thought about somebody coming to a winery without taking a free sample. Then, I asked him to show me his wine-making stuff. To my surprise, the equipment were not traditional at all (the way I had seen in photos from old wineries in France and Italy), though his process was more or less traditional. And he was very patient answering my detailed technical questions, elaborating all the minute differences between his way of wine-making and how it's done in modern industrial facilities.

And when he asked about my major at school, he found it even more surprising for a sociologist to ask so many detailed technical questions. He had assumed that I must be a student of chemistry or something like that. I told him that I was an electrical engineer before coming to the US and given my interest in chemistry, I was somehow familiar/interested in chemical processes as well. I guess he had not had such an odd visitor for quite some time.

My engineering interests in the winery kept me there for a longer time that I had planned and when I left, it was almost sunset. And I was relying on a shortcut route on my biking map to get to US-51. But it turned out that the shortcut route existed only on the map (which was old). So, I had to continue on the hilly country roads.

When I was in Iran, although I loved forests, I would not had thought of biking at night amid such a wilderness. But now, here I was amid Shawnee Forest, nearly pitch dark on a bike, 15 miles away from home. Usually when I bike on country roads, I wish no cars drive by so that I can enjoy the nature without distraction. But now, whenever a car passed by, I felt like: well, I'm not completely alone amid this wilderness (I had my light, which was pretty good, but anyway).

There aren't any bears or big wild animals in this area (not that I know). But passing by hamlets, I would be greeted by dogs occasionally. In one instance, a dog darted out of its home to the road, barking and panting at the same time while showing its teeth. That's not a welcoming gesture in dog world. My experience with previous canine well-wishers had taught me that if you direct your light at their eyes, that would discourage them. But this one would stop momentarily and whenever I directed my light back to the road (which was uphill), it resumed its charging course. Fortunately, a car appeared from the opposite direction and the combination of its headlights and speed, made my not-so-friendly escort back away. The rest of the dogs on my way where not as persistent as this one, but you wouldn't know.

When I landed in Southern Illinois this August, I thought that I could make my life enjoyable by biking in the country roads, as I did in Ohio all the time. And I was never ever chased by a dog back there. But I had no idea that exhaustion-therapy might not be as relaxing and refreshing here as it was back in Ohio. Here, you can enjoy country roads as long as you own a car.

Back to Toledo - Christmas 2008

It's good to be back home. Even when you actually don't have a home there. I felt excited while I was on my way to Toledo for Christmas (and also for having a change from Carbondale). Although this snow storm interrupted a lot of my plans (including biking around the city and the places I liked), I still managed to enjoy my time. And I could meet some professors and friends. And I should thank my friends and hosts who gave me rides to some of the places I wanted to go.

I had planned a very crammed schedule to visit as many churches as possible over my stay. The icy streets didn't let me enjoy my Sunday for that matter. But I was lucky and the weather got a little bit warmer, a little bit below freezing on Christmas Eve and I could visit some churches riding my former bike (that now belongs to one of my friends).

I began my Christmas itinerary with Cedar Creek church. As a result of my busy workload last year, I was not able to make it there over Christmas 2007. I was keen to know after all the commercial advertisement they had made (which I had criticized in my Snow, Worship and Technology post), how this special service was different from their ordinary services. I already knew that their Christmas service (like all others) will be laden with Rock music. But when I visited their Toledo campus this year, I found it amusing to see the strong presence of tradition in this contemporary corporate church. And the contrast between traditional and modern elements was interesting.

The stage decorations were more or less traditional (not the typical Rock concert setting of every week). Even the dancing lights and mist were not as overbearing as always. And there was one archetype of traditional Christmas Eve that they had not been able to forgo: candles. By the end of the service, we passed the light to each other. But still, modernity was not giving its ground easily; instead of passing the light from a big candle at the altar (read stage here) and using that to light the other candles, the ushers would use their handheld electric lighters to light the candle of each person at the head of any row (me for example) and that person would pass on the light to the people in their vicinity. After all, when you embrace McDonaldization of religion, efficiency is an important factor and you have to save time; you have to provide service to such a big quantity of customers of spirituality, even if it comes at the expense of the quality of such a deep meaningful tradition.

And in a Christmas service, you expect to hear some Christmas carols. And Carol of the Bells is one of my favorites. But when you're in a modern church, you have to listen to the Rock version of any song, in this case, the one performed by Trans-Siberian, also known as Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24. Watch it here. Ditto for What Child is This (my most favorite carol). Please. Leave this one alone. Does everything has to be modernized? But still, the original versions of these carols have been so deeply etched in my memory that my brain could still reconstruct the original feeling while I was listening to the Rock remakes. Watch here for an instrumental version and here for a choral version. And here and here are Rock samples.

After this modern Christmas service, I moved on to a more moderate service at Hope Lutheran, my first church when I landed in the US and where I made my first Toledoan friends. My experience this year was more or less like my Christmas 2007. As I had reserved 11 pm spot for Grace Lutheran, I had to attend Hope Lutheran for 7 pm service, just like last year. And just like last year, this Festival Worship was very short and modest and as Pastor Tom referred to it, without much special music. And I enjoyed listening to Pastor Tom's sermon on God's Backstage Entrance, giving a modern narration/interpretation of the Nativity. And as always, his preaching style was more like lecturing. No surprise I always enjoy his sermons.

I couldn't see many of my old friends. Yet, it was still good to meet Pastor Tom and Pastor Bill. And it was a surprise for both to see me after such a long time leaving Toledo. And as I had no home in Toledo this year, just like my first days in Toledo in 2006, I could relive all those feelings. Looking around the sanctuary of my first church, I could remember all those feelings of being a new guy in town in a foreign country. And feeling like that in a church that I used to visit frequently was odd. Associative memory can do weird things.

The next shift for my work was Christ the King Roman Catholic Church. While I was in Toledo, I was eager to visit the church. Actually, I had briefly visited the empty church once and it looked somehow like a modern Catholic church. Well, not as modern as Corpus Christi University Parish, maybe somewhere between modern and traditional. But I don't know why I never scheduled a visit during a mass. I had heard that people in this church are kinda snobbish and over that brief visit, those few people around the office didn't bother to greet this visitor. I had heard that in traditional Catholic churches, they don't try too hard to make strangers feel welcome. And that visit confirmed this. Not very impressing. But over this Christmas, I decided to attend one of their masses as it fitted my schedule well. And I have to say I did not regret my decision.

When I left Hope Lutheran and started riding my former bike for Christ the King, it had become chilly and I had not brought my thicker gloves and scarf with me. A bad miscalculation about the weather. So, when I arrived at the church, I was miserably cold with numb hands and disheveled hair and beard from cold wind. More or less like a miserable homeless chap. Receiving a cold welcome from snobbish people was the last thing I wanted. But maybe I was misinformed. And maybe I had made a quick judgment over that brief visit based on misinformation.

When I arrived in the church, I was already late as a result of the strong cold wind (that slowed my biking). Yet, there were orderly welcome team who passed me from one to another to direct me toward an empty seat somewhere in the middle. Although I usually prefer to sit in the back to have a better view of what's going on, I couldn't refuse this clearly friendly welcoming gesture. And my disheveled appearance didn't make those supposedly snobbish people give me weired looks.

It took me a few minutes to warm up. But it didn't took me long to realize that the inference I had made from their midway-between-modern-and-traditional architecture was right. Their service and liturgy matched their architecture and internal arrangement of the pews. But as I was still somehow dizzy, I couldn't make the most out of this observation. And this made me regret more why I had not attended their masses in the past. Another reminder for me as a sociologist: do not simply trust what you hear about anything or any place or any people; instead, have a first-hand observation for yourself.

Then, I headed for my last stop for this silent (and miserably cold) night, Grace Lutheran. If I had any (unsubstantiated) doubts about the warmness of my reception at Christ the King, I could be certain that I would receive a very warm welcome in my home church. And unlike my first visit to Grace Lutheran over Christmas 2006 that I had traversed a distance of about five miles on foot in an unusually mild winter night, now I was on bike in a windy chilly night. So that certainty gave me warmth from within. And in another round of associative memory, I remembered that first visit that had etched a very deep positive first impression in my mind. I have to make a flashback 2 years ago.

When I arrived near Grace on that night (and I somehow felt like a stranger in town at such a late hour), I could hear very nice bell chimes. And the chimes sounded very welcoming. Like the old fashioned cozy church you see in old movies. And as an old-fashioned guy, this was the ideal church for me to attend on a Christmas Eve (although I later found those chimes to be electronically produced, not by real bells). Actually, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound was what made me discover the church (which was not easily visible from the distance). Yet, there was surprise in store for me.

The greeters who welcomed me at this church (which indeed looked like a cozy nice one) were not the typical greeters you see at a typical church. One wore a lapel pin showing he was a veteran and the other one wore a lapel pin on his leather coat for Department of Homeland Security. For an Iranian Muslim whose country was under the threat of military intervention (although I've never taken it seriously), that was quite a nice first impression, eh?

Well, both of them greeted me in a way that made such negative presumptions evaporate instantly. And both became my friends over the course of my visits to Grace later on. And I used to see the veteran fellow over weekly Bible studies that I attended frequently at Grace.

I sat down in a pew waiting for the service to begin. And I was greeted by their female assistant pastor who was greeting everybody one by one like an old friend. So, this church was not as traditional as its architecture suggested. And I had no idea about when their service would begin and finish and whether I would make it to the 11 pm service at Hope Lutheran (which was my first home church back then). And as I had walked for such a long time in an unfamiliar town, I had no clue about what time it was and how far away I was from Hope Lutheran .

I went back to my Homeland Security friend and asked him about these things. He brought up his watch to my eye and it showed about 10 minutes to 11 and informed me that Hope Lutheran was about 1.5 miles away from there. Then, he asked me if I had a car (which I didn't). And he told me he would take me to Hope Lutheran to make it to their service in time. I realized that such an inquiry (about leaving a church you've just entered for another church) was the weirdest impolite thing a stranger could have done. And I felt so embarrassed.

Leaving his post as a greeter to take a total stranger to another church was quite a gesture. And it really impressed me and made me overcome my apprehension about his lapel pin. It etched a deep mark in my mind that I will never forget. Actually, this was one of my best nights in Toledo and thinking in terms of associative memory, whenever I think of Grace and late night, my brain always brings up this memory. Probably, memories like these over my first days in Toledo, made me feel at home in a foreign country on the other side of the planet. And maybe it's the associative memory of that missed 11 pm Christmas service at Grace in 2006 that made me feel committed to choose to attend their 11 pm service last Christmas and this year.

My experience this year was more or less like last year with two differences. At the end of the service, their choir director invited anybody who felt like singing to come to the altar and join the choir for the ending choral, Hallelujah. Well, it was quite an observation. And by the end of service, although I had a bike to go back home, my Homeland Security friend (who was a greeter this year, just like 2006) insisted on taking me and my bike home in his SUV. Another kind gesture to etch that first impression of 2006 even deeper. And there was more.

Last year, Pastor Jacobs rewarded my surprise visit by a surprise gift, a cake he had baked. He had a better gift for me this year: he and his wife invited me for Christmas dinner. And after Pastor Jacobs picked me up at school the next day to take me to their home, I also had the opportunity to meet Luther. Well, not Martin Luther, rather Luther the dog. I wondered why a Lutheran pastor should name his dog after the reformer pastor who was somehow the founder of Protestantism. His explanation was kinda funny: because this dog was rebellious, just like the other Luther. Well, different kind of rebellion. Anyway.

As I had told them that in Islam, dogs should not touch your clothes or body, they kept Luther away from me. And as a result, he insisted on playing with me by pulling hard on his leash. And as they kept his leash very firmly, the poor dog ended up skidding on the wooden flooring of the kitchen while barking loud. And they told me that Luther usually ignores people who want to play with him and if I had showed any sign of interest, he would've ignored me just like other strangers; his perseverance in reaching me was exactly because he felt I was ignoring him. Sorry Luther, but rules are rules for me.

And after enjoying the elaborate family dinner, Aaron and Tatiana, our musical slaves (as Pastor Jacob's wife referred to them) entertained us with playing piano and violin solos respectively and some duets. Pastor Jacobs had invited me to the wedding of Aaron (his elder son) in August, but as I was stranded in Hotel Carbondale for my orientation marathon, I couldn't make it back to Toledo. So, this was an opportunity to meet Aaron and Tatiana, his Russian wife (both graduate students of music).

The last stop in my Toledo Christmas tour was Congregation Etz Chayim. I had visited Conservative and Reform synagogues for Shabbath and Passover. But I had never visited an Orthodox synagogue. Oddly enough, I chose the occasion of Channukah (which has been commercialized in this country just like Christmas) for this purpose. So, I knew that I would observe a worship style very close to Islam, free of any fanfare and entertainment. And I was right.

Basically, Islam and Judaism are very similar. Well, the orthodox variety of these two religions of course. And attending an orthodox synagogue for a commercialized religious holiday might not sound like a good idea. But for me, it did make sense. I could see how orthodox people in any religion would resist alterations to what they deem proper and pure religion.

The worship looked and sounded like an Islamic worship. Just prayer and worship, without a modicum of distraction or entertainment. And as I had heard, their service was male only. After my experience at a conservative synagogue, where people got mad at me for refusing to put a kippah on my head (which is not mandatory in Judaism BTW), I used the same strategy that I used over my second visit there at avoid hard feelings. I put my scarf over my head. That way I would cover my head (the real reason behind wearing kippah or hat in a Jewish service) without putting a kippah (which is against my beliefs as an orthodox Muslim). By covering your head, you show respect to God during worship. And by putting a scarf on my head, I went beyond the minimum; covering your head completely (as with a scarf or shawl) is what very devout Jews do.

And as I have grown long hair and long beard (as an orthodox Muslim), I look like an orthodox Jew as well. Putting a scarf over shabbath made me completely look like a devout orthodox Jew. Well, maybe not completely. The only problem was my poor knowledge of Hebrew. I couldn't follow the prayers from the prayer book like a real Jew and at times, felt out of sync. Anyway.

Interestingly, due to pure worship style of these orthodox Jews, I felt comfortable being around them as if I were in a mosque saying prayers as a Muslim; especially, given the fact that the prayers sounded very similar to Islamic prayers. By the end of the worship, my feelings were reciprocated by these guys and although they must have realized from my awkwardness that this Jewish looking guy was not a real Jew, almost everybody greeted me with Chofetz, which I tried to return (without knowing what it meant). Fortunately, even after they knew I was from Iran, I was not engaged in political debates (as happened in the Conservative synagogue). Well, a place of worship should be a place for thinking of God and worship only.

Inclement weather

I'm quite used to inclement weather in Midwest. I've written about it in my Cold and Adaptation post. When I was in Toledo, inclement weather rarely disrupted my life much. It hardly even stopped me from biking. But that's when you're at the safety of your home. Calling a city home in a foreign country may sound funny, but that's how I felt about Toledo.

But when you're traveling and cannot enjoy the amenities and security of being at home, life could feel rough. Especially, when you don't know when you will be secure again. Whenever such things happened and I watched people stranded at airports en route their home, I felt sympathy for them and I wished it never happened to me. But it did happen to me last night.

I was heading for Toledo to meet my professors and friends and also to enjoy Christmas at my hometown. And being in a small town in the middle of nowhere, getting anywhere is a challenge, even if it's not too far away. And it takes 570 miles to get to Toledo. That means taking a train for Chicago (5.5 hours) and then wait there for some time (2 hours or more, depending on your itinerary) and then take a bus for Toledo (another 5.5 hours). Even if you catch a flight from Chicago, it doesn't make much difference considering the time it takes to get to airport from downtown Chicago, early check-in, security, etc. And I have a very low opinion about any town that doesn't have a functioning commercial airport nearby (like Carbondale). Either way, you lose a whole day.

To save time, I had taken the afternoon train in Carbondale to catch the midnight bus in Chicago shortly and arrive in Toledo the next morning. I knew about the stormy weather, but I had no idea that buses could get canceled. I had traveled in stormy weather before and assumed those cancellations were only for airplanes. I was wrong.

I arrived at the bus stop near Union Station just to find that all buses had been canceled. I asked the Megabus agent what should I do in such weather at midnight in Chicago. And there were other people like me. He took us aboard his bus and tried to find us a hotel. It took him quite some time to find somebody answering his desperate phone calls without much success.

And we enjoyed having a free tour around downtown Chicago, while he was trying to find rooms for us without much assistance from Megabus customer service. I tried to comfort myself by enjoying Christmas lightings (I enjoy lightings under any condition), although I was very tired (sitting in an overcrowded train for about 6 hours was not much fun) and I was badly in need of some sleep and also badly stressed about missing office hours over Friday in Toledo as a result of this misfortune.

After about 3 hours wandering around downtown Chicago, he could find somebody in their customer service to accept paying for our hotel and we landed in Hampton Inn Suites for the night. It took us about another hour to actually check in and get some sleep. I appreciate the efforts of this guy and his colleague who arrived in the hotel to pay for our rooms, but when a transportation company cancels their scheduled trips, shouldn't they be responsible for stranded passengers who transfer from one vehicle to another in the middle of night? That was the most annoying thing whenever I watched news coverage of passengers stranded in the airports.

But as the saying goes, all is well that ends well. Thanks to the efforts of this guy and help from his colleague, we could enjoy our night at Hampton Inn. And it reminded me of my stopovers in Bahrain over my trips back and forth to Nicosia two years ago. And while I was walking under heavy snow of Chicago, I was thinking of one of my favorite songs, Snows of New York.

Obama or Beer?

Grading sucks. I know that as a TA, I have to do something for the money that the school pays me. I'm fine with my job of teaching (even when my students don't do their job of reading their assigned readings). But please, no grading.

I enjoy reading quizzes, exams and papers. As a sociologist, this is one of the best ways to understand how American students think and in what kind of world they're living. In my discussion sections, I tried to give my students thought-provoking quizzes. Even though grading those quizzes took me a lot of time (at the expense of my own courses), I still enjoyed reading them. Some were really bright, and some ... well, not so much.

And now I have finished a marathon of grading their final papers. It was quite a hard-labor. For this paper, they were supposed to sit somewhere, record the specs of the first 25 T-shirts they saw, put those T-shirts in categories, then rank the categories into a hierarchy based on a single criterion and finally, analyze their findings (i.e. make conclusions about those people based on their T-shirt). This was an exercise to give them a better understanding of categorization as a scientific procedure and also to make them understand how it differs from stereotyping and how bad is the latter.

Most of the students found it an interesting exercise. For the sake of the paper, they played the devil's advocate, trying to make judgments about their subjects based on their appearance (they were not allowed to interview their subjects). And by the end of the paper, they concluded how stupid it is to judge people merely based on how they appear. Well, I hope they don't forget this lesson. Superficial judgment is one of the biggest problems we have in this world.

I found some of the papers very thoughtful and I have to say they gave me quite some insight about American society in general and American college students in specific. There were some who were really brilliant in their arguments. Yet, reading some of the papers confirmed something that I knew about American colleges, specifically SIU.

I'd already observed that here, porn is more important than justice. And then, I got to witness that porn is even more popular than faith. Already knowing that I'm living in a party-land, it is trivial that in Saluki way of life, alcohol has a very high value. Reading the papers confirmed this (whether alcohol is more venerated than porn in SIU remains to be seen). A lot of students had established a category for beer, bar, party or anything related to alcohol, even though the number of alcohol-related T-shirts in their sample didn't exceed 2-3 out of 25.

Some had made fun of it, and some had taken it seriously. And interestingly, some had ranked their categories based on popularity. And party-goers (or similar names for their categories) stood high in their hierarchy. All that didn't surprise me. It just gave me a deeper understanding of American collegiate life. But among all alcohol-inspired thoughts, this line stuck out and I will remember it for quite some time:

"I like beer and beer makes me happy which is why beer is one step above Obama. If Obama influenced my life the way beer did then he would probably be a step over beer, but he doesn't."

And this was from a student whose life has been influenced and improved by attending SIU. Isn't it great to be a PhD student in such a life-transforming school?

Eid and Party

Another important Islamic Eid. Today was Eid al-Adha, the day after the pilgrims conducting Hajj, the annual pilgrimage to Mecca, are about to finish their rituals. Like Eid Fetr, it is widely celebrated by Muslims all around the world. And just like the other important Islamic Eid, nobody cared about it in this multicultural liberal school (other than the professor mentioned in my Eid Fetr post).

Personally, I was not much in the mood for celebration after my grandmother having passed away last week. And as her most favorite grandson, I was depressed all over the week. And this was another reminder of being an academic prisoner here on a single-entry visa. When I was in Toledo, two of my friends had lost their father without being able to go back to Iran for the funeral or visitation or anything.

And to exacerbate things, I have to do a lot of grading (final papers of my students) and writing (my own final papers). That's tough even without such a dejected mood. So, when I got to know about the Eid party for the Muslim community in Carbondale, I decided to attend it to alleviate things a bit. Probably, my grandmother's soul would be happier with my doing my academic job instead of mourning and feeling blue (which wouldn't change anything for her).

The party was in the food court of the University Mall. Well, the name is misnomer. The mall has nothing to do with the university. Probably, as the entire town economy revolves around SIU, they've chosen to include the university in its name. But maybe it's not a complete misnomer. As there's nothing for SIU students to do in this depressing small town in the middle of nowhere, these poor souls would have to waste some time with mall-trekking. After all, that would be a healthier alternative to wild-partying.

Our Eid party was mostly about having food. I was not so hungry or not in the mood for feasting, but attending there would give me a sense of community around my Muslim brethren. As Sunni Muslims here follow Saudi Arabia in their religious calendar, they celebrated it yesterday and scheduled the party for last night. Most of Shia Muslims however, believe that the moon crescent (which is the basis for Islamic lunar calendar) should be witnessed locally. So, for me and other Shia Muslims, today was Eid. But as religious occasions actually begin the night before the occasion (i.e when the moon shows up in the sky), I could practically celebrate the night of Eid.

There were all sort of things to eat and we had to stand in line to get our plates filled in one of the eateries at the food court rented for this occasion. While we were standing in line, I noticed two mall security officers appearing. I quipped to the friend on my side, "are these guys here to protect us, or to protect against us?" to which my friend replied, " to protect against us of course, we are in America after all", to which I replied jokingly, "but as alcohol is strictly forbidden in Islam, a Muslim party would never go wild, and there's no reason for us to go on suicide bombing ourselves and our own party". We laughed at the absurdity of the joke (which has been a bitter reality with post-911 Islamophobic mania) and proceeded in the line.

It didn't took long for those mall security officers (who looked liked state troopers or sheriffs with their wide brimmed hats) to answer my joke. One of them took out a camera and started taking pictures from various angles. While it didn't feel alright to me, my initial reaction was simply turning away whenever they changed their position. After all, when you live in a small town in the middle of nowhere, you must get used to racism.

Or maybe not. That's how racism spreads its wings. You don't react to stupidity and it becomes the norm. I remember my Jewish professor at the University of Toledo. Although he's not an Orthodox Jew, he refused to shave his beard after 911. He got strip-searched and detained for 72 hours in one of the East Coast airports (Maine or Connecticut, I'm not sure) because of having a beard. I asked him why he didn't shave his beard, after all he was not an Orthodox Jew. His answer was interesting: "if German people had not caved in to Fascism, Holocaust would not had happened in Germany. We must not cave in to Fascism in this country". And his namesake is one of his uncles who's been a Holocaust survivor. Anyway.

After a while, I felt this photography spree not only offending but also stupid. There are several security cameras in every shopping mall and if we terrorist Muslims went berserk and decided to blow up our own party, the frames grabbed on those cameras would be more helpful than pictures taken like this. Our protectors continued taking pictures laboriously for about half an hour and then disappeared. While we were standing in line again for the dessert (my most favorite part in any party), they reappeared and resumed their job.

At this point, I felt annoyed and couldn't take it anymore and approached one of the community organizers and complained. He tried to comfort me by saying, "they're doing their job and they're probably taking some pictures to show their boss as evidence that they've been here". Knowing that he didn't personally believe in what he told me, I mentioned about security cameras in the mall. Then, I added that even assuming they're taking pictures for such an unlikely reason, why should they take so many pictures from different angles for more than half an hour? Even media photographers wouldn't take so many pictures from an event like this. We Muslims are facing stupidity and bigotry on a daily basis in America. Shouldn't we have some peace of mind at least in a religious party?

By this, other people around me who had been equally annoyed, joined me in protest. And our friend gave up whitewashing our protectors and went to another event organizer and they talked to the security officers and they gave up taking pictures. Interestingly enough, by the end of the party they preferred to do a more enjoyable job and joined us to have some cake. I wish they had done this earlier. By wasting their time taking so many pictures, they lost a lot of good stuff.

But partying was not over for me. There was a Teaching Celebration for our Teaching Sociology Seminar. This was an occasion to celebrate our accomplishments as TAs and also to receive our certificates of excellence for what we had done over the course of semester in this seminar. Oddly enough, the venue for this Teaching Celebration was the bowling alley at the Student Center.

We began our party by signing the frame of a certificate of appreciation for our professor and we received our certificates of excellence in return (this whole certificate business sounded superficial to me). Then, we enjoyed some pizza and punch. Fortunately, the facility is alcohol-free (our professor was very persistent on having some alcohol over the celebration). Then, the Teaching Celebration continued with some bowling. As my hands are hurt in a biking accident long time ago, I wouldn't be able to throw those heavy balls and I just had to watch others play. It was fun to see some of my professors (including our seminar professor) and fellow students jump up and down over their accomplishments in knocking down those pins.

Although I didn't participate in the real fun, I enjoyed my time there. This bowling-teaching celebration didn't provide me with a sense of community as in last night's party, but it gave me enough distraction to set me back on track with the business of grading and writing. That's life at SIU.

Hotel Carbondale

When you live in Saluki-land, dogs rule. And sometimes dogs could be as important, or maybe more important than human-beings. I've written about the academic importance and high value of dogs in SIU culture in my Fall 2008 post. But the importance of dogs does not stop just at a symbolic level.

In Saluki-land, dogs are so revered and are entitled to the same freedoms as human beings (if not more). Maybe restraining the dogs would infringe on their inalienable rights. Interestingly, animal rights' advocates use the word humane while talking about their clients. And if there are city ordinances requiring the dogs to be restrained, probably those laws are inhumane and need not be taken seriously.

Seriously, I don't know why some people cannot understand the simple fact that dogs (however lovely and cute) are animals; they are not human being. Dogs, if not within the fenced perimeter of their owner's house, should be restrained at all times and barred from running loose in public roads. Failing to do so could result in accidents like what happened to my advisor here (who is a professional cyclist). Have a look at his blog to see what happened to him this March as a result of such negligence.

At the beginning of this semester, when I decided to do some exhaustion-therapy, I chose to bike toward Giant City State Park. However, my experiment was not so relaxing as I had dreamed. Having read my advisor's blog and having seen him after his accident, I was preoccupied all the way that some loose dog might jump at me. And it actually occurred to me twice as I've described in the middle of this post. But I was lucky and nothing serious happened to me. I just returned home more or less unhealed (from my exasperation).

Last week, when one of my friends had gone on some biking around the town to make some change to his monotonous life here, he was not so lucky. Somebody was walking with his pit-bulls in the night. And to respect their canine rights which were more important than human rights, he had leashed them on a very long leash, in violation of the ordinance control.

One of the pit-bulls attacked my friend and while he was trying to keep his balance on his bike and stay away from the attacker, the other one jumped from the other side and he fell into a ditch. Fortunately, the ditch was shallow and he just got a bruised ear and a twisted ankle (he's still limping nowadays). Interestingly, the owner of those loose pit-bulls didn't even bother to help my friend out of the ditch and simply carried on as if nothing important had happened. Well, he was actually so graciously kind and polite to say "sorry", before moving on.

While my friend was telling me the story, I told him sarcastically that he was lucky that nothing had happened to the pit-bulls, otherwise their owner would had not taken it so lightly and it would had been him who should have apologized while sprawling in the ditch.

And calling the police station was useless; the officer just thanked him for calling. Although even if he had had the specs of the pit-bull owner, I doubt that anything would have happened. I think he should had been bolder and should had not let the irresponsible pit-bull owner go by unperturbed. My first reaction would had been to take a photo with my cell-phone outright. Anyway.

A few weeks ago, we were talking in our grad room about the monotony and boredom of life in Carbondale. And usually, when I hate a place like this and when I find life boring to death like this, I sing the refrain in one of my favorite songs that relates to such situations: Hotel California. And in this case, my friends found it a perfect match to describe our miserable life. Then, somebody suggested making an adaptation for Hotel Carbondale. And this friend of mine volunteered to write the lyrics. And the rest agreed to perform the song when the lyrics get ready.

And not long after that grad room conversation, he had this pit-bull experience. This made his resolve stronger and he eventually sat down and wrote the lyrics for Hotel Carbondale. I have to admit that although English is not his native language (he's from Pakistan), he's done a very good job. And I have to mention that he's the brightest sociologist in our cohort. Whenever he gives a presentation in any class, the quality of his job makes the rest of us feel like freshman undergrads.

And that makes me even angrier about his pit-bull encounter. Anyway, enjoy the lyrics below and wait for our performance (if our grad life affords us time for that):

Hotel Carbondale

Lyrics: Muhammad Asadi

On a dark paved roadway, winter breeze on my rear,

Strong smell of gasoline, surrounded me every where

Up ahead in the distance, I saw two kids fight

My head grew weary as darkness enveloped the night

There he stood in the middle,

A pit bull from hell.

I questioned myself as in a riddle

What if he doesn’t like my smell?

He answered my question and attacked me on sight

A second one jumped and at my fall took delight

As I lay there in pain, the barking seemed to say….

Welcome to the Hotel Carbondale, (yeah)

Such a lovely place, such a lovely place

To be in such disgrace ...

Plenty of gloom at the Hotel Carbondale, (yeah)

Any time of year, any time of year,

You can find it here ...

Now my ankle’s all twisted, the pain transcends

There are some scary scary clouds, rainfall never ends

Like a book with blank pages, it’s boring you bet!

Some learn to surrender, some come to regret

So I called on the sergeant

‘Please get these dogs off the street’

He said, “Thanks for calling but we’ve long made our retreat”

And still that barking is taunting from far away,

Wakes you up in the middle of the night

Just to hear it say...

Welcome to the Hotel Carbondale (yeah)

Such a lovely place (Such a lovely place)

To be in such disgrace…

They’re livin' it up at the Hotel Carbondale (yeah)

What a nice surprise (what a nice surprise)

A four floor “high rise” ...

Water’s dripping from the ceiling,

Seminar room’s cold as ice,

We are all just readers here with no printing device,

And in the TA’s chambers,

We gather for the chores

Thus we pass our daily lives,

For the weekend break at the stores

Last thing I remember, I was

Limping through the door

I had to find my direction to

The place that is the core

“Relax” said the greeter

You have arrived, take a cart

You can check all the sales you want

At the world’s biggest Wal-Mart…

One Faith at SIU

Tonight, I had a field observation after a long hiatus. When I was in Toledo, I used to go to so many churches for my research on contemporary worship that my Christian friends joked about me to be more Christian than them (judged by my church attendance). Sometimes, I went to 3 services on a Sunday. Quite workaholic. Although I enjoyed my time in most of those churches.

However, since I've landed in Carbondale, I've got so stuck with my home-campus-home routine that I think I've become a zombie (and that's when my brain gets free enough to think about anything). As one of my friends jokes about it, just going to Kroger for grocery shopping is our weekend breakaway. Quite a life.

Then, I saw this flyer advertising for a worship service on campus: One Faith. And ironically, it was in the same Student Center ball-room where Ron Jeremy and Pastor Gross had their porn debate a few weeks ago. And I felt curious to see the quality and attendance of such an event in such a party-land that is SIU on a party-night that is Friday night.

It was a joint worship service by all sort of ministries on-campus (and off-campus). The name, One Faith, was catchy. But what drew me to the event was my boredom with a life that is all about reading unreasonable loads of readings over a very short time without getting a deep understanding, writing summaries and so on, ad infinitum. I've switched to Sociology to enjoy my life doing field observations. I could've stayed in my job as an engineer and just read sociology books and articles. And a PhD program should be about quality of reading, not just quantity. Anyway.

When I was in Toledo, I had gone to a couple of worship services on campus. They were mostly Campus Crusade for Christ (CRU). And I have to say I was not impressed so much. To be honest, these CRU meetings helped me get a better idea about spirituality on campus, or may I say, collegiate spirituality. But I found these youthful collegiate worships to be laden with emotion, shallow in spirituality and malnourished in theology. And after a while, I preferred to spend my field observation time in a more efficient way, mostly in churches.

What I observed tonight, was more or less in line with my CRU observations in Toledo, with some differences in details. There were some loud rock songs in the beginning (by a highly diverse band, made up of whites, blacks and Asians), a truly black gospel choir (I have to say this was the only part that I really enjoyed), a conversion story by a born-again former sinner, some prayers, a speaker (who also happened to be a born-again former sinner), some more prayers, some more rock songs and then ending with mass high-fives.

As a former(?) engineer, I have a strong sense of professionalism about everything. In the same way that I don't approve of somebody lacking education in engineering, suddenly deciding to design the control system for a powerplant, I cannot stand something like religion, which is not less sophisticated than engineering, being treated less professionally. And I feel annoyed when people who don't have a good education or understanding in religion, decide to jump the bandwagon.

Be it secular intellectuals who know nothing about internal dynamics of religion (because they have not experienced or understood it or both) and just feel like giving their analysis on this complicated subject. Or evangelists whose understanding of their faith is mostly limited to sensations and emotions. And well, life-changing stories.

I don't know why these evangelists feel compelled to make up stories about an ultimate sinful life, turning abruptly to Jesus and then deciding to dedicate themselves to spreading the good news. Seriously, I'm eager to meet an evangelist who has not gone through the same old routine. I want somebody who has had a straight life, following in the footsteps of Jesus over his lifetime before deciding to dedicate himself to Jesus in words. But maybe, such a straight ordinary life is not inspiring enough for the purpose of evangelism.

And what annoys me even more is how some of these evangelists believe their highly animated stories could really be life-changing to somebody with a fair share of IQ. I can think of my post on Conversion from Islam to Christianity which was a reaction to one of those stories. The author of that 13-page testimony, purporting to be a former devout Muslim terrorist, turned Christian, was clueless about some basics of Islam. I guess he had got his understanding about Islam by reading some of those novels. I find such conversion stories more than anything an offense to the intellectual capacities of the reader.

And the speaker for tonight who has been living in Spain for over 20 years, had one of those inspiring stories. Basically, he preaches the word of God by way of standing on top of boxes (accompanied by his buddies) and shouting and singing to people in one of the busiest squares of Madrid, where prostitutes and homosexuals do their business on one side and government offices and mayors (sic) work on the other side of the square.

He once happened to catch the attention of an Arab diplomat who just happened to pass by one of his box-top sermons in that busy square. And that Arab diplomat was so fascinated by his words that he gave him his business card and persistently invited him to the embassy. And just after 2 hours of incessant private tutoring (and I can imagine the nature of that 2 hour session), that Arab diplomat got to know Jesus and why this nice evangelist guy was a Christian instead of being a Muslim. Quite a story.

At one point in his speech, he was trying to use the robe of righteousness as a metaphor for salvation that you get when you come to Jesus. To make his point more visual and hence more understandable to anybody, he used his younger daughter (who was in her late teens I guess) as a learning tool. He had her dress herself in a white robe with some gold embroidery and brought her on stage. Then, he realized it was not a good idea and ordered her to sit down, because everybody was looking at her instead of him (sic). And by the end of his passionate sermon, when he came back to his metaphor and summoned his daughter back to stage, he had her face the wall instead of the audience.

Seriously, I'm not sure how deep and thoughtful is the faith you get through such meetings. Fortunately, I already have Jesus in my heart without being in need of such visual metaphors or relying on emotions and sensations. Jesus is the light of God and His very Spirit and Word sent to the world. He certainly doesn’t need inefficient advertisement of this sort. And even if one chooses to be a Christian, I guess going to a church and listening to a pastor with sound education in theology and divinity would be a better choice.

I've had most of my pre-college schooling (grades 3 through 12) in Alavi School, an elite evangelical Islamic one. And on top of their excellent education in math, physics, computer and stuff, they trained us in evangelizing people. And I do mean it, training. It's long since I've given up debating religion with people to prove the superiority of my beliefs (that's the main goal of all evangelists, Christian or Muslim or whatever). While I still hold firmly to my religious convictions as a Muslim, I find such debates a waste of time and more than seeking truth, asserting one's ego or vanity (my belief, my faith, my truth, my whatever).

But when I compare the quality evangelization training I received in Alavi school (which was deeply based on theology and philosophy) with some of the stories I read or hear from evangelicals here or the methods they use to drive their point home, I mostly feel pity for these guys. So long for professionalism in religion.

Another thing that drew me to this event was my curiosity to have a look at the makeup, number and diversity of SIU students who might have some interest in faith. Especially, after my disappointing comparison of Justice or Porn. Looking at the number, it appears that faith fares no better than justice among SIU students. Even the big incentive of a free dinner at the end of this once-a-semester big event didn't succeed to bring as many students as Ron Jeremy did for his porn debate.

Although as the saying goes, there's no such thing as a free lunch (or dinner); you had to first feed your soul through listening to all sort of life-changing stories, before tending to your stomach. And near the end of this 2 hour worship (quite lengthy for a collegiate worship event), many students left the ballroom for the lounge to enjoy all sort of sandwiches, cookies and stuff.

And I learned another thing about dynamics of evangelism when you're in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Having attended the international coffee hour in our ISS lounge, I had noticed evangelists engaging international students in conversations over coffee and yummies. And talking to one of their converts, I got a better understanding of how these guys do their business here.

When you're stuck in a depressing hellhole like Carbondale, cast away from your country, family, culture and everything you had back there and when you have absolutely nothing to amuse yourself with here, you gradually feel desperate for some socializing. I've reflected on this issue in a previous post on a sense of community. And when you don't find a community nearby matching your culture, you begin to feel a sense of identity confusion (even if you're not a teen).

And that's where evangelists drop by to fill the gap for you. They offer you a new identity, a substitute identity which makes you feel compatible and hence comfortable with your surrounding. And then, you blend in and become part of the new community. And in the process, you adopt a new faith and learn about a new love that you didn't know before.

Whenever I go to a place for my research where evangelists are busy marketing their commodity, I feel uncomfortable and I usually have to keep my distance. Generally, I have a low opinion about marketers of any commodity, especially pushy ones. Even when I go to a store with the explicit intent of buying something, I try to stay away from sales assistants who insist on helping me.

And as I've become somehow familiar (and fed up) with opening lines of these marketers of faith, I usually have a hard time keeping cool answering their ice-breaking questions. Such questions may sound innocuous to an innocent untrained ear but my experience has taught me that these questions would lead to a theology debate where the intent of the initiator is not improving his understanding; rather, pushing his absolute truth in a cocky way. And this aversion about pushy marketers sometimes makes me behave arrogantly.

When the worship service finished and we went to the lounge for dinner and fellowship, I was busy doing my job, looking around to get a sense of the demography of attendees. And as these marketers of faith assume anybody is by default a lost sheep or in danger of being lost, their ice-breaking soon embarks on the main objective, trying to save the sheep. And what really turns me off, is the patronizing language and voice they use as if they're talking to a little lost kid (even when they're not actually older than me).

From time to time, people would approach this looking-around bearded supposedly shy guy, trying to invite me to their church to find the answers to my questions (that I had not even asked). And the common denominator of all ice-breaking dialogs: Where are you from? How do you feel in Carbondale? Don't you feel lonely here?

And in order to prevent the conversation from rolling into a theology debate (as had happened before, when I was inexperienced with these marketers), I had to make it clear outright that I was there as a sociologist doing some sort of field research.

And in one instance, a pastor was more explicit in mentioning that they have students from thirty countries in their church and invited me on board to have a sense of community with other international students. And I had to emphasize that I would love continuing my research as I did in Toledo, but my busy schedule in grad school has made me a home-campus-home zombie. And apparently, repeating the word research in an arrogant way didn't seem to impress him much to accept the fact that I was not a lost sheep. He sufficed to give me his Email and church address.

But not all marketers give up so easily. I remember another evangelist pastor (whom I'd met in the Student Center at the beginning of semester) who kept emailing me to invite me to their church. And apparently all the excuses that I made did not impress him until I mentioned that I couldn't come to their church over Ramadhan and hopefully I would visit them sometime after the month of fasting was over.

Now that I think about it, maybe the quantity-oriented approach of my PhD program and their overbearing load of readings should not be blamed for my keeping away from field research here. Maybe, in the back of my unconscious mind, I've been actually trying to avoid such marketing efforts in a small town in the middle of nowhere.