When
actor and activist Ossie Davis eulogized Malcolm X at Faith Temple Church of
God in Harlem on February 27, 1965, he referred to Malcolm as a champion, an
Afro-American who cared about the meaning of words, one who sought to unify
black America, a black, shining prince.
Davis quoted a letter Malcolm had sent to a friend from Africa, writing,
“My journey is almost ended, and I have a broader scope than when I started
out.”[1]
Indeed, Malcolm X returned from one of his trips overseas transformed by one of the rich spiritual practices of the Muslim faith. He had taken part in a Islamic practice required at least once in the lifetime of every able-bodied Muslim who can afford to travel to make pilgrimage to Mecca. The spiritual practice is called, “The Hajj”[2] and The Hajj itself has specific things one is to do within the pilgrimage to Mecca that are to shape and call the Islamic people.
In preparation for The Hajj, all Muslims must enter into ihram, a time when they agree to purify
themselves by refraining from violence, quarrelling, or sexual activity. It is a way of saying, though we are social
beings, I must manage my own stuff, be responsible for the ways I manage my own
behavior. All pilgrims dress in simple,
white clothing to symbolize human equality and unity before God.[3] Though color and variation are a gift, the
pilgrimage is not about affirming our external choices as much as remembering
who Allah created us to be. Such a
pilgrimage, such a practice, changed
what Malcolm X thought was possible for humankind. There was a time when Malcolm referred to
whites as white devils. After Malcolm’s
pilgrimage to Mecca, he said:
“In the past, yes, I have made
sweeping indictments of all white people. I will never be guilty of that again
— as I know now that some white people are truly sincere, that some truly are
capable of being brotherly toward a black man. The true Islam has shown me that
a blanket indictment of all white people is as wrong as when whites make blanket
indictments against blacks.
Since I learned the truth in Mecca my dearest friends have come to include all kinds — some Christians,
Jews, Buddhists, Hindus, agnostics, and even atheists! I have friends who are
called capitalists, socialists, and communists! Some of my friends are
moderates, conservatives, extremists — some are even Uncle Toms! My friends
today are black, brown, red, yellow, and white!
While in Mecca, for the first time
in my life, I could call a man with blond hair and blue eyes my brother.[4]
For Malcolm X, the Islamic
practice of pilgrimage to Mecca, The Hajj, transformed and shaped his everyday
perspective and life.
Pilgrimage is also a Christian
practice. Echoes of the Islamic ihram, the purification marked by
changing clothes, can be heard in
this excerpt from John Bunyan’s 17th Century Christian classic, The Pilgrim’s Progress, and the pilgrim,
of course, named “Christian”:
Thus they went along
toward the Gate. Now you must note that
the City stood upon a mighty Hill, but the Pilgrims went up that Hill with
ease, because they had these two men to lead them up by the arms; also they had
left their mortal Garments behind them in the River; for though they went in
with them, they came out without them.[5]
As I have stated before, worship is a Christian
practice—much like pilgrimage. What we
do here today is practice for life out in the real world. We collectively sing, pray, study the
authoritative stories of our faith ancestors, and pass the peace as practice
for doing those things when we step out into the real world. Malcolm X practiced the universality of
humankind through the Hajj, and the Hajj became a part of his being, the
texture of his skin, marked on every one of his red blood cells.
The Psalm we have before us this day
is a psalm of pilgrimage. The pilgrims
are on their way to the Temple in Jerusalem, the place where the Living God
makes a home. As the pilgrims make their
way to this place where the presence of God is more real and palpable than any
other place on earth, the pilgrims begin to understand God’s home as their
home. The pilgrims travel through a
desert area, the desert of Baca[6],
and in practicing their pilgrimage, springs and pools of water drip from the
hand of God. By traveling on a path
worthy of them, through their holy practice, the pilgrims make and leave a path
that sustains creation. It is as in the
poem from Spanish poet Antonio Machado:
Pilgrim, your footsteps are
the road, and nothing more;
pilgrim, there is no road,
the road is made by walking.
By walking one makes the road,
and upon glancing behind
one sees the path
that never will be trod again.
Pilgrim, there is no road--
Only wakes upon the sea.[7]
Pilgrim,
there is no road, the road is made by walking, faithfully walking the path
given to us even though that path takes us through Baca, the desert. We transform the path by our willingness to
walk through it, to plumb its depths within the deepest valleys, to be willing
to walk far enough to lose our way, as the psalm says.
Too often, as progressive, North
American Christians, we are unwilling to walk into those deep valleys or show a
willingness to walk far enough to lose our way, to change our garments, to
affirm our common journey. We listen to
someone describe the wonders of Buddhist meditation and so we want to sample a
little bit of that and wonder if Buddhism is the way. We see someone over there sharing how much
more wonderful their pagan based faith is, and so we dabble in a little bit of
nature-centered theology. We are a
little here and a little there never walking through any tradition with any
great depth. We never build our
endurance by walking long in any tradition.
Each tradition has its foibles and freaks but we use the imperfections,
radicals, and wrong-doers within a tradition to abandon a historical tradition,
a particular path. We wonder why we
never experience faith as deeply as the Buddhist teacher, the Christian mystic,
the orthodox Jew, or the practicing Muslim when we are unwilling to walk very
far in any of those traditions.
Rev. Scotty McLennan, the Tufts
University chaplain who inspired Doonesbury cartoonist Gary Trudeau’s
character, Scotty Sloan, wrote a book a few years back that talked about the
entire spiritual journey as a pilgrimage up a spiritual mountain.[8]
In the book, McLennan suggests that, for
the most part, all spiritual journeys end up at the same summit of that
spiritual mountain. Unfortunately, the
trend in spirituality these days, McLennan wrote, has us spending quite a bit of time at the
base of the mountain deciding which path we will take. Few of us reach the summit, ever reach any
spiritual depth, McLennan suggests, because we want to explore each and every
path at the base of the mountain. “Pick
a path and start walking,” McLennan advises, whether that path be Christian,
Buddhist, Muslim, pagan, Bahai, or any other great tradition.[9]
I think this trend is found
especially in progressive faith communities.
I reference it as “sampling at the progressive buffet.” We take a little of this, or a little of
that, and never really experience the full flavor and texture of anything.
Within Psalm 84 is a depth, a sense
that the pilgrims have been traveling a long time. The pilgrims in Psalm 84 have deep longing
and a hunger to be at home with God. Too
often, I see us trying to sate our hunger with a sampling of appetizers that
never really fill us. We spend our time
cautiously trying paths at the base of the mountain. I am not suggesting we should put down
critical or rigorous thought as we begin walking our path, but we should also
be aware that needing everything to be “just perfect” before we start walking
and/or expecting depth of meaning without commitment to the path provide easy
excuses to abandon the path when the pilgrimage becomes difficult.
Christian pilgrimages are never
walked alone. And faith pilgrimage is
sometimes hard. So, as we stand at the
beginning of another school year, we should choose a faith pilgrimage that is
worthy of our walking and worthy walking with a company of people. We should not be so worried about having the
right path but deciding where the great desire or hunger is in our community
and world that requires complex faith answers.
Within our pilgrimage should also be practices which we want to become a
part of our being, the texture of our skin, marked on every one of our red
blood cells. Those practices will be
necessary as we make our way to the home of the Living God, because there will
be times that are referenced as the “dark nights of the soul.”
Dark nights of the soul are when we will have only
the practices. The way will not be clear
or the way will take us through the desert.
It will be night We will not experience
being affirmed. We may even experience
God as being absent or gone. We will
have to love our way through the darkness during those times to just keep
walking and make the road, transform creation, through our walking. During this time, we will be creating within
our own souls an ever-deeper hunger for God.
Pick a path where we see great hunger
and desire in our world and begin walking with others. Transform the path you walk with practices
along the way that construct systems and structures which give life to all of
creation. When the pilgrimage gets
tough, and hard, and long and dark, love your way through that darkness. Love your way through that darkness. You will make the path by walking.
Malcolm X chose a path out of a love
for African-American people. As a part
of that path, he was given to a spiritual form that is a concrete path, a
spiritual form, The Hajj, that intentionally broadens the hearts and
minds of its practitioners. Before his
pilgrimage to Mecca, his Hajj, Malcolm saw absolutely no path to race
reconciliation. But the practices of his pilgrimage transformed
him. After plumbing the depths of his
own faith tradition, he said,
I am not
a racist.... In the past I permitted myself to be used...to make sweeping
indictments of all white people, the entire white race and these
generalizations have caused injuries to some whites who perhaps did not deserve
to be hurt. Because of the spiritual enlightenment which I was blessed to
receive as a result of my recent pilgrimage to the Holy city of Mecca, I no
longer subscribe to sweeping indictments of any one race. I am now striving to
live the life of a true...Muslim. I must repeat that I am not a racist nor do I
subscribe to the tenants of racism. I can state in all sincerity that I wish
nothing but freedom, justice and equality, life, liberty and the pursuit of
happiness for all people.[10]
Pick a path.
Develop practices. Walk. Go deep.
Psalm 84 reads, “Happy are those who find a
hiding place in you, whose hearts are set on pilgrim roads. As they pass through the Baca valley, they
find spring water to drink. Also from
pools the Ruler of Creation provides water for those who lose their way.” As we walk, we will not be alone. We are to walk that path in the company of
faithful to broaden and deepen our hearts and minds. As we make the road by walking, we will not
be alone. Even when we experience the
Divine as absent or hidden, God will be with us. Amen.
[1]
http://www.cmgww.com/historic/malcolm/about/eulogy.htm
[2] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hajj; Malcolm X came to refer
to himself as a Sunni Muslim after this pilgrimage experience. Within Sunni Islam, the Hajj is the fifth in
the Five Pillars of Islam. In Shi’a
Islam the Hajj is one of the ten Branches of Religion.
[5] John Bunyan, The Pilgrim’s Progress (
[6] Baca means literally
“drip.”
[7] Antonio Machado,
"Proverbios y cantares XXIX,”Campos de Castilla.
[8] Scotty McLennan, Finding
Your Religion: When the Faith You Grew
Up with Has Lost Its Meaning, (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 1999).
[9] Rev. Scotty McLennan, Finding Your Religion: When the Faith You Grew Up with Has Lost Its
Meaning (
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