All One: A Multi-Faith Night to Remember

Photo by Stephen Epstein

By Raheel Raza

"Come, come whoever you are, Wanderer, worshipper, lover of leaving. Ours is not a caravan of despair, ours is a caravan of hope. Come, come even if you've broken your vows a thousand times. Come yet again, come...."
-- Mevlana Jalaludin Rumi

This was the invitation to an Evening of Interfaith and Spirituality, and they took it literally! Canadians came out in numbers—youth, middle aged people and seniors; Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Christians, Buddhists and Jews; atheists and agnostics—some out of curiosity, others half informed and some totally unaware, with no clue about what was going to take place—to be perfectly honest, neither did I.

Photo by Stephen Epstein

To launch their 2005 series, the Forum For Learning organized this event. FFL is a not-for-profit movement started by my spouse and me after 9/11 to promote learning and knowledge and build bridges of understanding. As an active participant in the interfaith movement, and someone involved in constant “damage control,” I felt an urgent need to counteract the hostility and distrust growing all around us and find a spiritual haven where we could celebrate our faith for a change. Due to my increasing interest in the spiritual realm, I recalled a glimpse of Sufi practices I had seen at the Institute of Sufi Studies - Rifai School in Toronto and invited them to present at my event. This group comprises people from many nationalities and backgrounds—Turkish, Armenian, Persian, Afghani, etc.—which tied in beautifully with our interfaith mandate.

Last night at the community center we rented for this event, more than 175 people turned up. These included clergy, lay people, photographers, writers, filmmakers and teachers. It also included critics, the curious and skeptics. Someone asked me if Sufism is Islamic. Another person said, it's Muharram and you're going to have music? I don't know, I told them, come and experience it for yourself. Considering it was the third night of Muharram, I was impressed to see many people from the Shia community present.

The evening began with a slide show from the Parliament of World Religions in Barcelona (the largest multi-faith gathering in the world) and some of the attendees talking about their inspirational interfaith experience. The audience learned that interfaith is more than tolerance—it's respect and understanding of each other without forcing uniformity of thought and belief. Interfaith is “beyond fluff-stuff” and about bringing difficult issues to the table. We agreed that this is the only solution for world peace and this also set the stage for the spiritual experience to follow.

Coordinating the Sufi group was Leslie Gabriel Mezei. Leslie was born a Jew and lived through the Holocaust, finding his spiritual path and healing in Sufism. Leslie started the evening with an introduction to Sufism. He explained that although Sufism essentially grew out of Islam, it is all encompassing and pluralistic in its range. Zikr, he said, is the direct link of the Sufi to Allah. He translated the kalima and gave an explanation of the terms Dervish, Haq, Hu and Hai ending with inspirational Rumi poetry.

As soon as Leslie finished, Garo started strumming his guitar and I tensed, wondering if anyone would object to music. But the notes that came from Garo's strings were mystical and poignant. The guitar strummed Allah's names in the most incredibly haunting notes that moved people. There was pin drop silence and some people came and sat on the carpet and cushions on the floor to be closer to the Sufis.

A moment later, Parisa started singing a Persian song of beauty and praise. Parisa's voice was mesmerizing and you could sense that these Sufis are people united in their devotion to God, expressing it in a variety of ways. Parisa's compelling voice reached the skies - her eyes closed, her passion reflected in her face, and then gently floated back to earth, not to our ears because majority of us didn't comprehend the language - but piercing our hearts. Language was not a barrier last night - because it was the language of love for the divine. I've never such stirring resonance and pain in a human voice before.

As the audience exhaled their breath, Garo started singing 'Lessons from Rumi' in Turkish, followed by English. Then Murat Baba who is the Shaykh of the Rifai group walked into the middle of the floor with his arms crossed across his chest. Murat Baba explained what zikr and whirling are all about. He introduced his son David, and said that he learned to whirl before he could walk. Murat Baba invited anyone who wished to participate in the zikr. About 75 people came up to join the circle.

Fatih and Talar started chanting softly, striking the bandir (a form of drum) as they chanted the Fatiha. Murat Baba stayed inside the circle gently directing the zikr. His wife recited Surah Rahman from the Quran - "and which of Gods Blessings will you deny?" The coordination was incredible as they moved from Takbir, to kalima to AllAh Hu and back to durood and salaam. The participants followed suit, swaying from side to side as they mouthed the words with eyes closed in sublimation. I don't know at which point David started whirling, one hand held upwards to accept the Blessings of Allah, one pointed towards earth, his white dress flowing around him till it was a blur. Around him, the prayer circle moved one step at a time as they chanted Hayy in whispers, then louder and finally in crescendo. At one point I opened my eyes to look around and saw the range of expressions on people's faces - some were in ecstasy, others in pain, some people held hands, others raised their hands in supplication and some were in a trance, but everyone was totally immersed in the experience.

My younger son, who is 19, was delegated to take photos. New to the concept of Sufism, he was standing on a table to take some aerial shots and I saw him rooted in one spot. As he watched the whirling and the zikr circle, he looked mesmerized and the intensity of his feelings showed on his face. He wasn't the only one touched to the core. A Sri Lankan guest, who came alone, cried uncontrollably as though he didn't know what had hit him. He went from person to person seeking answers and then came and hugged me crying his thanks. A new Muslim came and cried on my shoulder saying she finally felt the presence of the divine in her heart and found peace. Someone pointed out that the seniors had a glow on their face and another person said they weren't religious, but felt renewed and inspired.

Something mystical and highly spiritual took place last night. I don't know what it was but everyone was touched in incredible ways. To me this is Islam at its best—perfect submission to one God, the God of all humanity, and for a moment, suspended in the circle of prayer, we were all one, children of the same God.

Raheel Raza is a Toronto-based media consultant, writer, public speaker, and interfaith advocate.