I usually
don't do this. That is, I usually don't take this much time to tell anyone how
I converted to Islam, or should I say, how I came back to Islam.
See, when
people find out you've become a Muslim, you always get the same questions over
and over again. How did your parents react to it? Were you in love with a
Muslim woman? Are you accepted within the Islamic community as a convert?
But most of
all, people ask me: Why did you convert to Islam?
I found it
shocking that even Muslims ask me why I converted to Islam. "Well, this is
the one true religion, remember?" is my usual reply. I did not crash my
car into a tree and almost die, I did not have a moment when I saw the light. I
don't even know exactly when I became a Muslim.
Some people
are surprised, but I wasn't even looking for God. I wasn't looking for a reason
in life. I wasn't looking for a purpose.
Actually, I
was just looking for a book. I walked into a bookstore not knowing what I would
buy. This must have been somewhere in the year 2003 or 2004. I like to read,
with a special interest in the books sold in the store somewhere between
"recent history", "philosophy" and "sociology".
That's where a
green book caught my eye. It was called "Islam; Values, Principles and
Reality". I held it in my hand, looked at it, and realized I knew quite a
few Muslims but had no idea at all what they believed in.
Meanwhile,
Islam is all over the news and seems to influence both internal and foreign
affairs. I decided to buy the book and see what this religion is all about. I
walked to the counter and bought the book, totally unaware of the four and a
half year journey I had just embarked on, which would lead straight up to my
Shahadah.
Before I
started to read about Islam, I already had some negative associations related
to this religion in mind. For example, I was wondering how a practicing Muslim
could ever think he is a good pious person while at the same time he's
oppressing his own wife.
Or, for
instance, I would wonder why Muslims would worship a cubic stone in Makkah
while statues or buildings have no power and cannot help anyone.
I could not
understand why Muslims were so intolerant against other religions instead of
simply saying that everybody believes in the same God. With this in mind, I
started reading.
After the
first book came a second one. After the second came a third, and so on. After a
few years, I had read quite some books on Islam and was very surprised. I found
out that almost everything that I thought was a part of Islam and which I
opposed to, was actually opposed by Islam.
It turned out
that the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) had said that one can see how
good a believer is by the way he treats his wife. I found out that Muslims
don't worship the Kabah, they rather oppose worshipping statues or the like.
I found that
the Islamic civilization in all of its history - except maybe the most recent
ages - was the best example of religious tolerance on the face of the planet.
I did not have
to be convinced of most of the things Islam tells us to do or how to behave,
since I found a lot of basic rules I already agreed upon before learning about
Islam. I read my own opinion on a lot of subjects, but the books kept on saying
"this is Islam".
Not much dawah
was done in my surroundings back then. Well, not proactive anyway. The help I
got was what I asked for when talking to people around me. This doesn't say
everything about how dawah is organized in the Netherlands, I just didn't have
the people around me who were very much into this.
So when
Ramadan came and I decided to give it a try - no book can tell you how it truly
feels - I went to my Muslim co-workers and told them I would fast with them. I
bought a Quran and found the 30-day schedule on the Internet.
When I told
the others about reading the full Quran and fasting in Shawwal [the lunar month
after Ramadan], some of them had never heard of this or done it themselves. I
brought milk and dates to work and explained to them how this was a sunnah to
follow.
I told them
that if they didn't read their daily 1/30th part of the Quran, I didn't have
anyone to ask my questions from. So we went along as a group. Their mothers or
wives cooked meals we ate at work, so I experienced some new food as well.
I learned a
lot that Ramadan, and so did the others. And we had a lot of fun. My first Eid
turned out to be a funeral, but for the rest it was a great month.
After the
month of Ramadan, I went to the masjid to pay my zakah. I figured that giving money
to a good cause is a correct thing to do, so not being a Muslim was no reason
for me not to pay.
This is where
I first met the treasurer of the masjid in my hometown. He asked me if I was a
Muslim. "No sir, I am not a Muslim," was my reply, "but I did
fast the month of Ramadan."
He told me to
take it easy, take my time, and never rush into things.
As months
passed, I kept reading books about Islam. Most of the books I read where from
non-Muslims, like Karen Armstrong. I also took some time to read what people
said that was negative towards Islam. I read about religiously motivated
terrorism, about clashes between civilizations, and so on.
However, I
found that for every question I could raise, Islam had a convincing answer.
This did not always mean that the Muslims I spoke with had a convincing answer,
but most of the information I gathered on Islam came from these books.
At the end of
the next Ramadan, I went back to the masjid to pay my zakah. I met the
treasurer again and he recognized me. He asked me, again, if I was a Muslim.
"No sir,
I am not a Muslim," was my reply, "but you told me to take it easy,
right?"
He calmly
shook his head and said, "Yes, take it easy, but don't take it too
easy."
I now started
my last year as a non-Muslim. I had already stopped drinking alcohol. I stopped
smoking cigarettes. I tried to stimulate myself and others to do good, try to
prevent myself and others to do wrong.
I went to
Turkey on holiday and had a look inside some of the greater masjids. With every
step I took, with every day that went by, I could feel the presence of God in
my life grow.
I went into
nature and for the first time, I could see that what was in front of me where
signs of the Creator. I tried to pray sometimes - something I had never done by
myself - which obviously didn't look much like the way I pray today. I kept
reading and reading, but now also started to get information on Islam from the
Internet.
On Hyves, a
popular Dutch social networking website, I was approached by a Dutch Muslim
revert. She asked if I was a Muslim and I told her I wasn't a Muslim yet. She
asked me to come over to her house and meet her husband. He was a Muslim by
birth, practicing, and born in Egypt.
He and I had
dinner together and then talked the rest of the evening about Islam. The second
time I was there, he showed me the correct way to pray (upon my request). I
tried to do it as good as I could and he was watching me try. When we took a
short break, he asked me the question.
"So, do
you think you're ready to do this?"
"Yes, I
think I'm ready."
I realized
that I had already become a Muslim. I didn't take my Shahadah yet, so it wasn't
official, but somewhere in the previous years I had become a Muslim. I had come
to believe that there is no God to be worshiped besides the one true God, the
Creator.
I had come to
believe that Muhammad (peace be upon him) was his messenger, the final
messenger, who had part in completing the religion. I wanted to fast, I wanted
to pay zakah, I wanted to make my salah [Prayers], I still dream of the hajj
every day.
My path was
through books, I came through the theory. It was a rational choice, not an
emotional choice. I looked at the information which was out there, compared and
contemplated. Islam was the answer to every question. I knew that if I would
not start calling myself a Muslim, I'd be a hypocrite.
One or two
weeks later, he and I went to the masjid in his home town. He had already
talked to the imam so they all knew I was coming. My dad came along and brought
a camera.
The imam said
the Shahadah, bit by bit. I repeated, bit by bit.
As the imam
recited a duaa [supplication], my Egyptian brother translated it to Dutch for
me. I felt like I had been running for miles and miles and now reached the
finish line. I mean literally, I was out of breath as if I had been running. I
slowly got back my breath, I felt calm and happy.
Suddenly I
realized, finally, I had become Nourdeen.
I went to the
masjid in my hometown. As I entered the building, I met the treasurer. He asked
me, again, if I was a Muslim.
"Yes sir,
I am, and my name is Nourdeen!" I said with a smile.
"Alhamdulillah,"
he replied, quickly to add: "...at last!"
No comments:
Post a Comment