Everywhere, like Allah

As a radio broadcaster working in Christchurch, last week was confronting. You never know where an interview is going to take you, or when a new image comes in that swells your eyes with tears, or how deep the well of forgiveness is that you discover in the heart of a Muslim interviewee.

It wasn’t always journalistic skills that were needed. Last week, journos had to have the ability to be human and quiet, to express strong affection to strangers, and to control pangs of sorrow and anger when required.

One interviewee, a Muslim explaining how he experiences his faith, described the presence of Allah like this: He is everywhere – in the air we breathe, in our bodies, in the food we eat, the work we do, and the money we make. He is always with us and within us.

It is this deep-seated faith that will play its mighty role for many who are directly affected by the events of the ides of March.

After that interview, I walked briskly, trying to even out the rollercoaster emotions of the work day. I imagined Allah in the trees I strolled under, Allah in the wind that pulled my hair back, and in the wag of the tails of the dogs that passed. My godless mind found this hard to grasp though not entirely foreign – thanks to 18 years, long ago, of a strong Methodist upbringing.

What I felt in the air instead was not divine but a wet blanket of grief, a country-wide confusion, and the hangover of disbelief that I just can’t knock. Emotions dripped from every corner of my world: in my inbox with endless messages of sadness and hope, at the family dinner table with my kids who needed to talk, in the looks of friends meeting up for the first time after the tragedy, at work, everywhere.

And yet, we have heard messages of forgiveness and love from Muslims all over the world and even people who have lost children and spouses. How can this be? When so much has been taken away, how can there be love?

The Quran and its followers offered me some answers to these questions, and it struck me that I may not be the only person in the country with a sudden and intense interest in Islamic ideas.

I wore hijab on Friday and along with thousands of other Cantabrians witnessed Muslims pray outside their mosque. I’m certain I wasn’t the only woman in town who was new to this ancient tradition.

I have talked to more Muslims in the past week than I had knowingly talked to in the past year. Why did it take a massacre before I made more of an effort? Surely my small brick of understanding more about this entirely different set of ideas and traditions is a good thing for a country that is starting to admit that cultural bridge-building is now more important than ever. If we multiplied these little bricks by 4.5 million people ... well, that’s a strong bridge.

Never before has the wider Kiwi community been so intent on reaching out across cultural and religious boundaries to better engage with the Muslim communities around them. Of course, this is our silver lining.

But sadness is starting to smart with worry too. So many men died while worshipping in the main rooms of the mosques, while the women praying separately in the inner rooms were, as a group, less vulnerable to attack. Christchurch’s Muslim households have lost dozens of main incomeearners, leaving widows who may find it difficult to find work to support their families longer-term.

And yet, we have heard messages of forgiveness and love from Muslims all over the world and even people who have lost children and spouses. How can this be?

Older male family members are meant to protect female family members throughout life in some, but not all, Muslim traditions. Will Immigration NZ have to consider more distant relatives of these women as eligible for migration for the purpose of preserving their families’ well-being? A deeper understanding of Muslim family dynamics is needed amongst the officials who make these lifechanging decisions. Will amnesty be considered for partners of skilled migrants where the primary visa applicant is now deceased?

Stamina is another concern for how we support the issues that erupted from this tragedy. There is energy and time now, but we have committed to a long haul of emotional, restorative, legislative, financial, and symbolic support that cannot diminish as we get busy and distracted in the months to come.

I have heard many times over the past week that New Zealand’s Muslim communities are overwhelmed by the wider population’s response of kindness and love, which was firmly established and is daily reinforced by Jacinda Ardern and Lianne Dalziel. One Muslim told me he was moved by the fact that ‘‘One hate is met with millions and millions of loves’’.

Millions and millions of loves takes a lot of people to deliver. But Kiwis will pull out their #8 wire and twist something clever, sustainable, and unique into a shape we can all engage with. And then these little acts of love, brick by brick, month by month, year by year, will fill up our everywhere, like Allah.