In the age of Trump, focus on compassion
A few Muslims gather together to pray and break their fast during the holy month of Ramadan. They kneel on sparkling white sheets, neatly spread on the lawn of a place of worship. Hardly a remarkable sight during the Muslim holy month, except the place of worship is a Gurdwara, a Sikh church in Milford, Mass.
Today is no ordinary summer’s day. Inside the sanctuary a solemn Sikh service is in progress. Hymns from the Sikh tradition have been sung and a reading from the Sikh scripture has been received by the congregants. Speaker after speaker from every possible religious tradition addresses the congregation, commiserating with it, speaking words of comfort, courage and compassion.
It is one day after the shootings at the Oak Creek Gurdwara in Wisconsin.
“The worst of times bring out the best in us.” “What binds us together is much more profound than what divides us.” How many times have we heard words like these, almost rolling our eyes? Today these are not shibboleths. Every Sikh who hears these words, spoken by Protestants and Catholics, Jews and Muslims, believers and non-believers, in the wake of the Oak Creek shootings feels comforted by them.
In the insanity that followed the horrors of the attacks on Sept. 11, 2001, Muslims all over America were the target of violence and rage. Sikhs, with their very visible identity, which seemed to proclaim their otherness, suffered collateral damage in those surreal days, when it felt like the egalitarian fabric of America was starting to come apart. Yet, eventually, sanity prevailed. The days after the election of Donald Trump eerily bring back echoes of both 9/11 and Oak Creek. Just the other day, Maura Healey, the attorney general of the pluralistic and tolerant haven that is Massachusetts talked about more than 400 instances of hate in the state. News reports from all over the country point to a frightening emergence of bigotry from the shadows. I can only imagine what it must be like to be a Muslim or a Sikh in some of our backwaters where diversity is far from the norm.
I refuse to despair. There were profound lessons in how ordinary people responded to both 9/11 and Oak Creek. The Muslims who came to pray at the Milford Gurdwara. The Sikhs, who upon being mistaken for Muslims and violently attacked in the wake of 9/11, responded not by distancing themselves from Muslims, but instead using the attention to unequivocally condemn attacks on anyone based on their identity. The 1,500 who packed Trinity Church in Boston for a Sikh service in the wake of Oak Creek to condemn bigotry and express solidarity.
My personal faith as a Sikh takes me away from a place of cynicism by reinforcing a belief in the inherent goodness of humanity. At the same time it exhorts me to avoid the trap of passivity and reject the naïve belief that somehow everything will be fine. It will not, unless all of those who reject the bigotry make common cause.
Compassion is not the exclusive preserve of liberals or conservatives. If there was ever a time to rise above our partisan beliefs, it is now. I am not a political pundit, and I cannot even begin to make sense of why Donald Trump was elected president, but I do know it would be a huge mistake for me to assume that everyone who voted for him was motivated by bigotry and hatred. If I do that, how am I any different from the xenophobe who hurls a slur at me because of the turban I wear on my head?
In fact, I am willing to bet that at least some of those who attended that service at Trinity Church four years ago voted for Donald Trump. I am pretty sure that their compassion is still alive and well and they are cringing at the vileness that the election has wrought. It would be foolish to not reach out to them. I would love to see a thousand such gatherings.
In a time when Muslims, in particular, are being targeted, would it not be wonderful to repay them a thousand fold for their grand gesture four years ago, when they generously broke their fast at a Sikh place of worship?
Imagine that. Millions of us. Visiting mosques. Sitting silently in prayer and solidarity. Quietly reassuring each other that the egalitarian heart of this country continues to beat as strongly as ever. Sarbpreet Singh is a former resident of Milwaukee.