about quarterly, and the last two times at the gym, i get spoken to by born again christians who are trying to save me.
(wrapping my khimar around my bosom so as not to be disturbed does not weem to be going as planned, at least for me. i rather suspect that i would be much less disturbed, at least in this way, if i were half naked in skin-tight clothing. the born again gym community would thereby be assured of my salvation, being able to see half my skin and all of my figure and thus assure themselves that i had accepted jesus christ (upon him be peace) as my personal lord and savior.)
as you may have been able to figure out, i'm still smarting from my last encounter.
this one was a protestant minister who travels regularly to turkey to convert muslims to christianity. he hasn't tried saudi arabia yet, and i would advise him not to do so. he was a very nice man, a widower, who knew his bible in koyne greek and was quite conversant with the council of nicea, which is refreshing.
the last one was somewhat less qualified, although rather more conversant with muslim ideas of modesty.
then there is my professor, who cornered me while we were carpooling and made me cry at work. and there are my classmates, who don't say anything but look at me with a mixture of wonder and pity that i may be misinterpreting as "she seems like such a nice person; i'll sure miss her while we're in heaven. if only God (high above all things) were more reasonable"
but this guy just planted himself in front of me and patiently explained that i was crucifying christ (upon him be peace) with my apostasy. and i tried to listen to him, and listen behind what he was saying to the love that motivates him, that drives him to speak to heathen like me, to what he thought he was trying to accomplish. at least it's a noble sentiment-- save the heathen! but it was very hard, because i was trying so hard not to say that it's that sort of judgemental exclusivism that drove me from christianity in the first place. i cannot and will not believe that i am more reasonable than God (highest above all things, which includes, clearly, me) and i'm not about to send anyone to hell for not calling God by the correct name, for not reciting their prayers in the proper language or in the proper format, for not believing a particular story as opposed to another story.
and i couldn't even begin to tell him about God because it never really was my turn to speak.
and i couldn't even begin to tell him that i thought we were on the same team, that there's only one team because there's only one God (unbegotten, unique, perfect-- beyond our understanding, the merciful, the subtle). but i did tell him that i am a doctor who has devoted her career to the service of the poor and who lives with God in my mind and in my heart and all around me.
but i also wanted to take off my scarf and fricking finish my workout.
