DANCING FOR ALLAH

Although its principal division is into the Sunni and the Shiites, there is as much complexity in the Islamc world as there is in the Buddhist or the Christian.  Also, as in these other religious traditions, there is also a monastic heritage emphasizing what the Prophet called the al jihad al akbar--the "greater struggle," which is within oneself.  Perhaps originally inspired by contact with India, Sufism was a mystical tradition within which individuals attempted to achieve a heightened sense of the presence of God in this lifetime.  There has always been a marked diversity in Sufism, and for many Muslims the Sufis, who often incorporate elements from other traditions, are often thought of just as heretics who should be repressed.  This is particularly understandable since some of the language characterizing mystical awareness stresses a unity with the divine that, especially for the Muslim, seems to compromise the idea of God as completely other than any created reality and for that reason beyond the possibility of direct experience.  What for Hindus is the secret teaching of tat tvam asi is precisely the opposite of what Islam proposes: we are not God ourselves but instead persons who must submit to God (the meaning of islam).  Instead of seeing Sufi communities as representing an ideal for the more spiritually inclined--what would be true with monks in Buddhism or Christianity--there is a strong tendency, as with the present Iranian government, to see them as dangerous to a true faith and so, in a theocratic order, politically unacceptable as well.

Among the most fascinating expressions of Sufism has been the dervish tradition of Turkey.  Individuals engage in a whirling dance lasting for hours that is meant to lead to a trance state, and often this is arranged as a tourist attraction.  The term "dervish" itself is from a Persian word describing ascetics who, like Theravadin monks or the early Franciscan friars, were mendicants (beggars), and it reflects the central notion, common to all monastic traditions, that the individual seeking spiritual progress must not be attached to physical possessions.

In looking at the dervishes, we might note that there is a continuity in religious expression that transcends other cultural differences.  What we see with those who dance to become closer to Allah is also what we see in tribal dances or in the syncretic Voodoo tradition of Haiti.  The experience becomes an end in itself even if nominally its goal may be something else.  It is above all something personal, and to that extent it may bring Bergson's two sources of religion--the maintainance of a social order and the search for transcendence--into conflict.  In an introductory course we have not really had a chance to explore all that this means, but one side note is the link between the austerity of a monk and the appeal to those already less favored in a social setting.

In India the life of an ascetic transcended caste distinctions so that even today in the cities those otherwise at the bottom rungs of the ladder are able to survive on the streets as mendicant fakirs (from the Persian word for "poor")--sometimes legended indviduals lying on a bed of nails or otherwise testing the human capacity for pain.  Although monasticism plays no role in Judaism today, in the time of Jesus there were the Essenes known to us through the Dead Sea Scrolls, and there is the speculation that the carpenter's son Jesus, given the manner in which he assembled a close-knit group of followers who had rejected family ties and normal worldly ambitions, either was a product of Essene training or was deliberately emulating it.  The Italian Francis of Assisi came from a more prosperous family, but he took on a beggar's robe and presented a lifestyle that initially aroused suspicion in Rome because of his group's similarity to the French "poor men of Lyons," the heretical Waldensians.   Ascetics can be threatening because in the very effort to achieve a greater spiritual growth they may be seen as compromising the standards of the society in which they live.  This need not be on a religious basis, of course (Diogenes and the other Cynics of ancient Greece were mendicants without any religious portfolio, the "hippies" of their time declaring themselves doctors of souls), but when God is invoked there can often be a heightened sense of danger.

One of the things to think about is how religious traditions see a link between worldly prosperity and spiritual growth.  Hinduism, as we saw, makes a distinction between the world of the householder, who is encouraged to pursue success and pleasure, and the world of the ascetic, but with the concept of reincarnation there is no particular incentive for ordinary individuals to think they should withdraw from the ordinary world, or at least not do so until they are relatively advanced in age.  Judaism and Islam have not seen being poor as in any way a more secure path to heaven, and Christianity has not been consistent in its message.  One variant in the Christian approach has been that of John Calvin and the tradition that inspired the Puritans of New England: although God predestines a soul to heaven or hell regardless of the individual's actions, a "sign of election" is worldly prosperity (although, in what has come to be known as "the Protestant ethic," this combined with the rejection of what today we call conspicuous consumption so that wealth was not to be spent but invested).  This is obviously a question to think through on a very personal basis: how do you see the link between spirituality and material advantages?  Would you agree that to be "enlightened" you need to reject trying to become well off materially?

American sociologists have cited the link between social status and a congregation's silence in services.  The poorest Americans are often the loudest with the Holy Rollers and the Southern Baptists as examples.  The more affluent a group, the quieter it becomes, so that among American Protestants the least "noise" would be with the Episcopalians, who may participate in singing hymns but do not otherwise raise their voices in church.  If you are a church-goer yourself or you have close relatives that are, do you think this generalization reflects your own experience?  Would you be inclined to agree with Robert Coles that those who are most oppressed in a society use religious expression to reestablish their sense of personal worth, as though by being filled with the Holy Spirit (or ridden by the gods, as in Voodoo) compensates for what happens to them otherwise?  (Think how this reflects Karl Marx's observation that religion is "the opiate of the masses").