Spiritual Interpretations of Everyday LifeElsabe Smit (327)    Elsabe Smit   http://www.mypurpleblog.com Muslims May Own DogsPosted Wednesday, July 16, 2008 (7 days 11 hours ago.) Viewed 8 times. The item is about a postcard advert for a non-emergency phone number for the police. The postcard features a black puppy playing on a police hat. The distributors of the postcard had strong resistance from Muslim shopkeepers who refused to put the poster in their shop windows. Their argument is that the prophet Mohammed declared dogs (and especially black dogs like the one in the advert) to be impure animals that need to be killed. They feel that placing the postcard in their shop windows would be against the Quran (the holy book used by the Islam faith). The response of the police force was to apologise for causing offence to Muslims. I found that strange, because surely the whole purpose of recognising diversity cuts both ways? If Muslims want to have recognition for their unique beliefs and practices, surely they should also recognise the unique beliefs and practices of those around them? Is that not the point of recognising diversity? I would not think that the solution is to apologise and withdraw the postcard. Would it not have been more appropriate to keep the postcard for those target audiences that can associate with it, and also have a separate postcard that Muslims can associate with? I am not an expert on Islam, and decided to read up on this issue with dogs. From a website (refer the link on my blog) that discusses the issues the prophet Mohammed had with dogs, it appears that there are no statements in the Quran about dogs. The statements that Mohammed apparently made about dogs are quoted in Hadith (oral traditions relating to the words and deeds of the Islamic prophet). It appears that Mohammed had a bad experience with a black dog, and as a result he expressed his dislike of dogs and especially black ones. This was then accepted as gospel along with the Quran because it was attributed to Mohammed. If this is the case and Mohammed had a bad experience with sparrows, then sparrows would probably have been unclean animals in Islam. It made me think of a story about a woman that always cut fish in half when she cooked for her family. One day she scolded her daughter for putting a whole fish in the saucepan, and her daughter challenged her. The woman said that her grandmother had always cut the fish in half, and that was the right thing to do. The daughter then questioned her grandmother about this habit, and the grandmother said "I really cannot remember. Maybe the saucepan was too small?" People do not think about what they are told to believe, especially when it comes to religion. They just accept it all at face value. An Islamic scholar in Canada (refer the link on my blog) gave guidelines on Muslims owning dogs. This is allowed, but clearly only where dogs are regarded as working animals, including working for the police. Even if the fact that the man is an Islamic scholar is taken out of the response, his advice makes complete sense in terms of pets and hygiene. This does not mean I dislike dogs. I actually like both dogs and cats - please don't send the RSPCA knocking at my door! If the diversity people and the police had done their homework, they would have been able to educate first themselves and then also the Muslim shopkeepers about the real issue with dogs in Islam and about what the Quran really says (or in this case does not say) about dogs. They would then have been able to provide acceptable alternative postcards and also educate people about the health consequences of having dogs as pets. Instead they offered apologies for the wrong reasons and actually failed to acknowledge diversity. I wondered: what else is being misinterpreted under the guise of Islam and the Quran, simply because people choose to believe every word that someone else says without questioning it? And this believing without questioning is not unique to any particular faith. I have had people confront me because I believe in reincarnation. They told me I have to make my peace with Jesus who died for my sins (i.e. gave me a license to be reckless because he will take the consequences on my behalf and get me off the hook?) over two thousand years ago. My question is: if reincarnation does not exist because it is not described in the Bible, where has Jesus been hiding for the past two thousand years? Where will he return from to come and "save" me from my own actions? God gave us minds to explore and gather information so that we can make our own decisions. Let's honour God and use our minds. -------- Elsabe Smit is the author of A Tapestry of Life and of the blog http://www.mypurpleblog.com , Spiritual interpretations of everyday life. 
Permalink Comments (0) Xenophobia, or Hate Your Neighbour Like YourselfPosted Saturday, July 12, 2008 (11 days 12 hours ago.) Viewed 8 times. I have recently returned from a trip to South Africa, where I was born and spent my first forty three years in this life. A week before I went there, serious xenophobic attacks broke out and sadly, many people met a violent end. I was asked by friends in the UK whether I thought it was wise to go there, and my answer was yes, of course, because South Africa is a country with forty four million caring, loving, hospitable people, and one million people that represent our dark side. The day after I arrived the Sunday newspapers were full of news about the consequences of the attacks. The focus was on people that had gone out of their way to help the victims of the attacks. Some people risked their lives and the safety of their properties to accommodate families that they did not know. Those people saw fellow brothers and sisters in need and did not even think twice about reaching out. Their main focus was to remove children from violent situations and provide shelter in areas that were already bitterly cold at night. I read about one family that immigrated to South Africa twenty years ago. They carry South African passports and the children do not know another country or culture. They had lost everything - their livelihood, their memories, but luckily not their lives. During the week in South Africa, I met many family and friends, and of course this topic was being discussed all the time. What struck me was that the discussion was about "them". "This has nothing to do with our world, except that it made us wary when driving to work." All the victims of the xenophobic attacks were black, and this touched a white world only in the sense that it was newsworthy, confirming what "we" "know" and think, and at times being inconvenient. I often have to explain why it is important for me to love all people that I encounter. "Yes, the Bible says that you must love your neighbour like yourself, but surely we choose our neighbours? Surely we choose the neighbourhood that we live in, based on our socio-economic status? And people that have a lower socio-economic status are in that sense not our neighbours? I mean, they smell and steal and kill, for goodness sake - don't be so naïve. And when we go to church, we associate with people that believe and think like us. Of course we love them, but it is important that we associate with like-minded people. They are our neighbours, nobody else. We will love our neighbours on our terms, and we will continue to select them. I mean, just look at these xenophobic attacks. These people cannot possibly be our neighbours?" Is this different elsewhere in the world? Sadly, no. In England the hoodies (young boys and men who wear jackets with hoods that cover their heads and disguise their faces) are "not our neighbours". The chavs (council house, aggressive and violent - as if any of us had a perfect life up to now!) are also "not our neighbours." Even in one of the most civilised countries in the world, Switzerland, a Macedonian woman was recently refused citizenship for the third time. She has lived with her husband and worked in the country for thirty years, raised her children there, and speaks the language fluently without a trace of an accent. After appeals, the local government had instructed the local council of citizens to award her citizenship, but they flaunted this and turned the third application down, on the basis of "insufficient integration". Apparently she likes wearing bright colourful clothes and jewellery, and that is not the local custom. Do her neighbours love her? I am sure you will find examples of this in every country and community in this world. So who is our neighbour, and why should we love them? I define my neighbour as everyone that crosses my path, simply because I am aware of them. It is a challenge to define everyone on this planet as our neighbour, simply because we have limitations to our consciousness. It is also practical for me to love the neighbour that crosses my path. Some people come into our lives for short periods, for example shop assistants or fellow commuters that greet you because your face is familiar. They are there for a reason. Other people share specific experiences with us over a period of time, for example colleagues at work, those people that you employ to clean your house or tidy your garden, or friends in a town where you only live a few years, or team mates in a sport that you play. They are there for a season. Another group of people share most of your life, for example family, life-long friends, and your marriage partner. Where a marriage breaks up and there are children involved, the ex-marriage partner also shares the rest of your life with you, but in a different way. They are there for a life-time. All of these people are my neighbour, whether they are there for a reason, a season or a lifetime. I express my love for them every time I interact with them. That includes when I think about them as well, because thoughts are actions that I have already experienced but not seen yet. When we judge "them" for what "they" do, we join them in their actions by means of our thoughts. We do onto our neighbours what we will not want done unto ourselves, but by even thinking those thoughts, we treat ourselves in exactly the way we do not want to be treated. Can we change or stop xenophobic attacks? Yes. By confronting the attackers and having an eye for an eye? No. What we can do is feel unconditional love for the attackers as well as for their victims. We can do that by understanding that we need to accept and love our own dark sides. Then we will understand that xenophobic fears and attacks are not about "them", but about each one of us. That will change the world. -------- Elsabe Smit is the author of A Tapestry of Life and of the blog http://www.mypurpleblog.com , Spiritual interpretations of everyday life.
Permalink Comments (0) When Staying In a Hotel, Wear PyjamasPosted Sunday, July 06, 2008 (17 days 23 hours ago.) Viewed 664 times. What is the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to you? Try and beat this one. I recently had to attend an evening meeting in Kent, south of London. I was due in London early the next morning. Rather than risk missing the last train home, I decided to stay over in a hotel. London budget hotels are generally an embarrassment to the city, but I managed to get a decent room at a very good price in a place called Orpington, close to where my meeting was. I went to bed at 11pm and did not fall asleep immediately, because there was a hall light right outside my hotel door that shone right in my face. I covered my head and eventually fell asleep. However, I woke up several times because of the light. I know that the light was required for the inhabitants of the room above mine, because they had to use the stairs from the hallway that we shared. At some point I woke up again and decided that since it is pitch dark outside, nobody would need the light to use the stairs. I got up and opened the bedroom door, and there was the light switch, two steps away. Bliss! As I reached the light switch, the electronic lock of the bedroom door softly closed behind me. And there I was standing in the hallway, dressed in a pair of knickers. My phone, my watch and my clothes were all behind that locked door. Of course I was wide awake immediately. I could see the humour in the situation, but I also felt quite exposed (excuse the pun). I decided to go upstairs (not that I had many options) and see whether there were people in the room above mine. The bathroom of the upstairs room was separate, and I managed to find a face towel that covered the essentials - for once I was happy about being flat-chested. I knocked on the door and eventually a very scared female voice answered. I explained that I had this mishap, and asked them for a towel to put around me. After long deliberations in the room with another female, the lady told me that they would throw a towel down for me if I went down the stairs. I ran down the spiral stairs, and waited for the towel - and waited. Eventually I went up again, and as politely as I could I asked them again for a towel. She told me that they had thrown a towel down - not down the spiral stairs to the hallway, but through the window to the outside. I again asked them to just pass me a towel, and they said they would throw another one out. Again there was no towel in the hallway. I asked the two ladies to please call the police, because I had no phone and the ladies did not manage to wake the hotel management on the emergency number. They were obviously very scared and told me to go away. Since it was still pitch dark outside, I decided to venture into the corridor. I found one towel on the first floor and the other one on the ground floor. I only realised the next morning that there was CCTV covering the hotel grounds and buildings. Now I was covered in two towels and feeling a bit braver. I saw a light burning in another room and decided to try my luck. I had no idea what time it was, and no way to find out except by asking other people. I found the room and there were two gentlemen in. I asked them to call the police because the hotel management was unreachable. The gentleman offered to try and get the door open, but realised quickly that an electronic lock cannot be opened by normal means. The lovely man then offered me his single room, explaining that his friend had a double room next door that they would share for the remainder of the night. Since he was so sincere and offered me the key card to the room, I gratefully accepted. A few minutes later the man knocked on the door to get his watch. Then he left. Another few minutes later he was back again, this time with a duvet under his arm, because his friend did not want to share the room. I told him that under no circumstances would I inconvenience him any further, and I would let him have his room back. The man decided to negotiate with his friend again and left the room. Then another man joined the two with a loud Tarzan cry. This was just after the nearby church bell chimed four times. The three men had a very loud discussion about beds and sleeping, and I decided that the stairs outside the two scared ladies' room look more attractive. I sneaked back and made myself comfortable on the stairs. Some time later someone came into the hallway and knocked loudly on my bedroom door. It was obviously my new friend who discovered that I had left his room. I quietly ran into the bathroom and locked myself inside until he had left. Then I sat on the stairs again and decided to meditate. What else can a girl do at 4.30 in the morning when you are dressed in two towels and a pair of knickers? When it was broad daylight, I decided to try my luck at reception. This meant leaving the building and running barefoot around the side of the building to the reception area, being fully aware of early morning traffic on the busy road that was about ten steps away on the other side of a wire fence. What did those drivers think? Of course, having no watch meant I had to guess what the time was. Daybreak was at about 4:15, and it was impossible to guess what the time was from then on. I was successful with my second venture to reception, where an astonished cook opened the door for me and gave me a second key card to get back into my room. This was around 6:15. I found it interesting that I did not at any time feel threatened. I could understand the fear of the two ladies, but at the same time I could not understand it. I had realised long ago that fear is something you build up in your own mind, and therefore you are the only one that can break it down again. I left them clean towels and a business card the next morning, and I hope that they will eventually read this blog and start breaking down their fears. I also realised that when you are dressed only in towels, you have a kind of bargaining power that does not really serve an emergency. With two of the three gentlemen there was clearly alcohol involved, but even with that I did not feel threatened. All the time I was fully aware of my angels - they had a good laugh with me but I also knew that they would protect me at all times, and that was so comforting. And next time I stay in a hotel, I will wear pyjamas - even if that means having a little extra luggage! -------- Elsabe Smit is the author of A Tapestry of Life and of the blog http://www.mypurpleblog.com , Spiritual interpretations of everyday life.
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