© 2008 Bill Rocap
© 2008 The Urantia Book Fellowship
When I attended the Parliament for World Religions in Barcelona a few summers back, it sparked, for me, an exploration into Islam. I purchased a Quran and on my return, read it and began contacting Muslims online. Using a gracious approach, I encountered people by asking them to share something of their spiritual journey. To date, I could write a short volume on the memorable encounters I have been blessed to experience. One such encounter was with a family in southern Turkey, who eventually implored me to visit.
In mid-November, 2006, I spent two weeks living with a family in southern Turkey, near the coastal city of Bodrum. Though they are Muslim, you would consider this family somewhat unorthodox, even religiously cosmopolitan. Holding the sacredness of love and respect for Allah and the Islamic religion, they were not constrained to follow all the rituals and dogma of the local mosque. This was very refreshing because I was expecting to be using a prayer rug five times a day, ever wanting to experience how this family lived and worshipped. They honestly considered themselves comfortable to follow Allah but not the Mosque edicts. As one local Muslim later described it to me, “When the Imam told me to eat only with my right hand while I am left-handed, I decided to continue to love Allah but ignore many of the mandates of the Mosque leaders.” I soon discovered this was very common in western Turkey.
As I was fortunate to meet and talk to more people, I began to discover a public face and a private face to these people. Publicly, they hold deep respect for Allah, their religion, mosque, and ethical behavior, but privately, they were closer to “Cafeteria Catholics.” It seems many of the modernized or westernized Turkish people evince deep respect for Islam but manage privately to pick and choose what to believe. And change is afoot! From my online encounters, especially with women, I have discovered they are far in advance of the cultural arena in which they live and patiently push the levers of change. I made friends with a woman from Ankara, the capital of Turkey, who related this telling story:
“I am free to drive a car now…well I should since I am a nurse, nursing instructor, and educator and have traveled for my career more extensively than my husband. But can you believe it? My husband’s friend needed a car for a while. Now this man works at the university where I am. My husband gives him my car. He drives my car and I see it parked there every day, while I take the bus (it would not be proper for me to drive with another man, ugh). I must wait until this friend decides to return it…macho men in this Islamic culture.”
And it is humorous to walk down the streets in southern Turkey and see seven women in full black covering, then turn a corner and see seven teen-age girls in tank tops with bare midriffs, listening to MP3 players, and carrying cell phones. Women are leading the way in many ways.
Another Turkish woman told me her husband finally agreed to let her learn to drive, but she can only drive with him in the car. While she used different words, she reported him as “clueless.”
My first visit to Turkey was very personal. I experienced family life, befriended the two teens of the family and absorbed life as it is lived there. The family was beside themselves with gracious pride to drive me to historical sites like Izmir, Ephesus and Pamukalle. I wept at the site where the Apostle Phillip was martyred. I shared with them my interfaith message of many paths but one Allah. I left this family with a Urantia Book, while I knew their modest English skills would make reading it almost impossible.
I had one touching evening where I spoke to a mother about Allah and God. I used an old interfaith analogy that life is like a mountain. On the way up the mountain, there are many spiritual paths but the paths all lead up the mountain to the same destination…to God…to Allah. She was moved to understand Jesus better and relieved that I had not come to sell my religion to her, that I had not asserted my religion as superior, and that I was interested in understanding what she believed. Her daughter saw my Bible and began to argue with her mother. I knew it was about me and religion, but the heated conversation was in Turkish. I really had no clue, but it looked bad! Then, I saw the mother making gestures in the air, round and round. Ahhhh, she was explaining the mountain and many spiritual paths. The daughter’s face lit up, and afterwards, she came over to me and gave me a kiss.
Here are some ideas which I have used in my interfaith message (though expressed personally and uniquely to people I meet):
I sensed from many conversations that these Muslims mildly resented the Christian obsession with Jesus. Aligning our religion with such focus on the Jesus, as opposed to the message of the one true creator Allah, was not proper to them. This is one of the lingering repercussions of Pauline Christianity, I suppose. I did remind them that some Christians think Muslims are equally obsessed about Mohammed, so we usually chuckled at our obsessions.
Some politely remarked that we center our faith on Allah and submit only to Him. This statement from the Quran was mentioned:
“We believe in God and that which has been revealed to Abraham, Ishmael, Isaac, Jacob, and the tribes; to Moses and Jesus and the other prophets by their Lord. We make no distinction among any of them, and to Him we submit.”
A few of my new friends from Turkey were troubled that I visited in the off season. Though it was November, I still found swimming in the Mediterranean Sea downright refreshing. But my friends continued to lovingly harass me to come again near the end of high season, taunting me with markets teaming with travelers from all over the world. While they conceived of this as the Turkish Rivera (a holiday paradise), I could not help reflecting on a desire to experience street ministry; imagining walking the bazaars and speaking with people from all over, I was drawn to the possibilities. Honestly, I had hoped to meet someone who might be instrumental in getting a Turkish translation of The Urantia Book started.
When I returned in August, 2007, it was just as I had imagined, hot days and the bazaars overflowing with people till the wee hours of the morning. I visited local mosques and enjoyed bothering the locals to explain the rituals. With limited English, most of the Turkish men went out of their way to explain the prayer and worship experience. Often the conversations would reverse and many were curious about my cross with three circles. Early on I used my cross and concentric circles as a simple way to impart an interfaith message. I was led to explain the cross as the two great relationships: the pole of the cross as the individual’s relationship with Allah and the cross bar as our relationship with our brothers and sisters; the three circles as mind, heart and body focused on loving service. Because many Christians come to sell their religion to the Muslims, this approach opened many doors of enlightening personal conversation, which otherwise would have closed.
Visiting local mosques was a precious experience. Sharing with believers in worshipful respect to Allah, I was moved buy the descriptions of the Merciful One!
One evening I met a female judge from Ankara with her son and husband, a high military leader. Using my well-mastered Donald Duck voice (in Turkish), their son and I laughed and chatted. Soon I discovered the family had just returned from three months in the United States, and the mother is an international expert and speaker on human trafficking. They recently purchased a summer home in Bodrum, and I hope I will have another opportunity to speak with them.
One local merchant, Bulane, was impressed enough with our conversations to invite me again and again and again for Turkish coffee. He was calling me Chance because every time I showed up, good things were happening. While I protested these remarks, he asked for a copy of The Urantia Book. A superstitiously inclined soul, Bulane would pray and randomly open the book to read. He managed many hours of reading while I was in Turkey and we enjoyed many talks together. Before I left, he requested another book and decided to seek other friends to try to translate a few papers.
Since my return, I have spoken to my friends in Turkey every week. Bulane has organized a few friends (one an actual translator) and they are working on Paper 100 as their first translation. YES! YES! YES! We have had very interesting discussions on the two different translating styles in Turkish, 1) common and 2) literary. The common form is simple; but the literary form of Turkish contains thousands of words from Arabic, Persian, and Greek; and Bulane is concerned that ordinary people will not understand their meaning if he uses them. I suggested he use the common words unless they are inadequate to convey the meaning. Bulane is still struggling with what he calls the “logic” of the book. However, I told him he is doing a profound work. It is so important, but not necessarily “finished” as others read and compare. Before I refer them to some “gained” translating wisdom from within the Urantia readers community, I will let them read and discover the revelation.
Bulane said “Thank you for everything. Now I understand why Allah brought me to you. I believe there is no coincidence. Everything has a message or a meaning. I mean, we met, we understand each other, and I started reading The Urantia Book and something is changing. I said, “Yes, and friendships are a blessing from Allah.”
I am swimming in unexpressed reflections from this experience. I remain deeply thankful to my Turkish friends for their openness and love and also for my friends here in the United States, who helped make the experience possible. Of course, they are asking me to come again this year.
Bill Rocap is a long-time reader and a member of the Connecticut Fellowship for Readers of The Urantia Book. In addition to serving as a society officer, he is also very active in his church; and he has served on the General Council of The Urantia Book Fellowship.