'Qur’an has made me a better person, a better Christian, and a better priest' — clergywoman
She is none other than the Rev. Jamie Hamilton, associate dean of Students who oversees student health and welfare and past chair of the Religion Department at Phillips Exeter Academy (PEA) in Exeter, New Hampshire, United States. Hamilton, a scholar of comparative religion, who among her courses, teaches Introduction to Islamto 10th graders, recently visited Saudi Arabia and met with several men of letters and Saudi officials including Prince Faisal Bin Abdullah, minister of education.
In the interview, Hamilton said that the holy book Qur’an has a lot to offer to the people in the sense that it gives them structure and guidelines, and purpose, instead of just being focused on material things. Hamilton is writing a book about Islam that will hopefully be published within a year. She also acknowledged candidly: “It has been over 10 years now that studying Islam and reading the Qur’an has made me a better person, a better Christian and a better priest.”
Hamilton’s retrospection of Sept. 11 terror attacks vis-à-vis Islam changed her very perception about Muslims. This American priest and teacher, who urged people irrespective of their faith to read about different religions, substantiated her statement saying that the first revelation of Qur’an was — “Read in the name of Allah.”
She advised people to read the Qur’an. “So many people have their own baseless judgments about Qur’an and Islam and they criticize the religion, but they have never read the Qur’an,” she noted. “It absolutely surprises me how people make judgments on something they have not read,” she added.
Hamilton, who holds a Bachelor of Arts degree from Central Washington University and a Master of Divinity from Union Theological Seminary, said, “as I started to read and study Islam, I could see that Christians and Muslims shared many similar ideas and approaches to our faith. Once I realized that Prophet Muhammed (PBUH) was preaching to all people of the Book, I realized that I, too, was part of his community,” said the American scholar, while quoting extensively from the Qur’an and the sayings of the prophet (hadiths).
Hamilton, who was appointed to the PEA religion faculty in 1995, cherishes her insights about Islam. “The contemplation of the verses of Qur’an has helped me to deepen my faith,” said Hamilton, who has the distinction to lecture and serve PEA, which is a selective and prestigious preparatory high school. Today, Exeter is noted for its application of Harkness education, a system based on a conference format of teacher and student interaction. PEA, established in 1781, has an endowment of approximately $ 1 billion, among the highest endowment of any American private secondary school. Here are the excerpts of the interview of the American priest, teacher, scholar and author, who was once a visiting fellow at the Harvard Divinity School. The interview was conducted by Ghazanfar Ali Khan, Riyadh Bureau Chief of Arab News.
What really triggered your interest as a priest and as a teacher of comparative religion to study and read so thoroughly about Islam and Qur’an?
On 9/11, I was up early in the morning with a steaming cup of coffee and preparing for 300 new students, boys and girls, ages 14-19, to arrive on our campus, Phillips Exeter Academy, a boarding school in New Hampshire, United States. A large number of bright and motivated students from around the world including Indonesia, England, Korea and Palestine, and from the US states like California, Missouri, Alaska, Nevada and New York, to name just a few; are on the rolls of the academy.
That fine morning, teenagers were leaving their homes to come for study, to be put to the test, to discover the life of their active minds and hearts and ultimately to prepare for college.
I was the Chair of the Religion Department at that time at Phillips Exeter Academy recognized in America as one of the best, as one of the most rigorous high schools, sending our graduates to universities like Harvard, Yale, and M.I.T. I taught world religions and philosophy with four other colleagues, ran the largest dorm on campus of 63 girls and worked and lived with over 1,000 students. Though the instructors, administrators and staff often worked, as the students would say, 24/7, there was no other place I wanted to be. The campus, over 400 acres large, was a place throbbing with energy. This was my home. I loved my work. I thanked God everyday for the opportunity to teach and learn with such wonderful students and committed colleagues. And our new students were arriving on campus!
This day! About 8 a.m., my phone rang. One of my colleagues was driving up from Logan Airport in Boston; he had just picked up a new Arab student arriving from Palestine. “Jamie, his flight flew over New York City at sunrise and the whole city opened up for him and he saw the Twin Towers at the World Trade Center.”
“What a way to start his new adventure,” I responded. An hour later, I was in my office, and my phone rang again. This time it was my 11-year old daughter, who was home sick with a virus.
“Mommy, someone just flew a plane into one of the Twin Towers in New York City.” She had been born in New York City, and still in contact with her friends. She was crying. I was not sympathetic. “How many times have I told you not to watch horror movies on TV, especially when you are alone!” “Mommy, it’s not a horror film, it’s real.”
“No, it’s not; you’re watching a B-rated movie; change the channel.” “Mommy, I can’t; it’s on every channel.” I slammed down my office phone on its cradle and ran across the street and reached our apartment in a minute, scooped up my child into my lap, and we sat together as the second plane crashed into the other tower.
Our campus went into red alert. We were worried about the next attack. Our students were stranded all over the states, as all planes were grounded. Some students had already arrived. One family came into my apartment with their young 14-year old daughter. They had left New York City early that morning. And had they not been driving to bring their child to school, the father would have been in his office, one of the top floors of the World Trade Center.
I made some tea and we sat in silence. They were stunned. That night our principal gathered all of us, faculty, staff, students and we prayed. And we sat for a long time in silence.
Keeping in view the tragedy of Sept. 11 that maligned the image of Islam and brought Islam into the headlines of the US media, I would like to know how you managed to convince yourself and the community of the importance of understanding a religion that was accused in a way of committing that act of terror? What were the reactions of your colleagues, family, friends and students?
Within days after Sept. 11, people were calling me from the community, wondering if I, especially as Chair of the Religion Department of Phillips Exeter Academy, would come to speak to them about Islam. They were confused, angry and overwhelmed: “How could a religion motivate such acts of terror? Please come and talk with us,” said one caller.
“Of course,” I responded, in a dutiful way. It wasn’t until I started preparing for my talks did I realize that I really knew nothing about Islam. Not really. I could list the major tenets of the religion, and I could discuss the importance of prayer, fasting and the Haj, but unlike all my other work with the different world religions, I had not read the scripture, the history or the scholars’ theology of Islam. I had no real depth of understanding. I was ignorant, and without even being aware of my bias, I had treated Islam as a stepchild to the other world religions.
I asked myself, “Why was I so poorly informed?” Of all people, I was a well-educated woman, well-versed in many religious traditions, and an Episcopal minister in the Protestant tradition. How could it be?
I took a hard look at myself. There had to be a reason that I had not delved into the study of Islam. Maybe my scrutiny came from the deep wisdom that often follows tragedy. I am not sure, but I look back on that day of scrutiny as a turning point. It wasn’t easy to admit to my ignorance and my prejudice and to recognize that I had relegated Islam as “other,” “not worthy” and “violent.”
I think that I had committed the grave sin of making no distinction between the empirical sins of those who abuse their religions and the ideals to which all great religions aspire. And what is really revealing is that this perspective had taken deep root, long before 9/11.
When did these erroneous beliefs begin and where did they reside? It was as if these assumptions were always in the drinking water, so crisp, clear, easy and so natural. Recognizing that I could only change my perspective if I admitted to exactly what I truly thought: “Islam preaches violence.”
Wow. Such an ugly statement: I was astonished at my own ignorance and prejudice. Similar statements rolled off my tongue, like facts, without even a second thought. And they were ugly. No wonder I was afraid. I hadn’t studied either the religion or any developments in Islamic civilization. These were terrifying statements, and yet they felt so natural.
And if I could think like this, as a professional, as an educator, whose expertise was in world religions, then what about my fellow citizens? In all honesty, as a victim of an intellectual apartheid, separate, isolated and uneducated, I was afraid of Muslims, and terrified of Islam, and yet, until 9/11 stripped me of my defensives, I was completely unaware of such prejudice.
I am sure I was not alone. How many other Americans thought like I did? I actually believed that if I studied the Qur’an, a force beyond my control would make me into something other than what God intended for me to be. Something had to change and that change came after studying Qur’an.
What are the factors that inspired you to become an instructor of religion at PEA and a student of Islam as you are today?
I made a pledge, especially after the Sept. 11 terror attacks that I had to confront my ignorance. It was my responsibility. And in my own small way, this promise and commitment would be my stance against the power and horror of men in planes hijacking their own religion, as well as my oath against their attempts to use me as a pawn in their political maneuverings. I wasn’t going to let them win. And I wasn’t going to let the bereft nature of my own education rule my bearings.
It’s been over 10 years now, and studying Islam and reading the Qur’an has made me a better person, a better Christian and a better priest. I am more patient, more present, more intentional about my faith, and more aware of the peace that passes all understanding, which comes from living into God’s destiny.
Sometimes, words or motions or sounds, which cross over from a different land and a different people help you to see in new ways. I am a committed Christian, and my faith is my heart, but without being aware of it, in my mid-40s, near the end of the 20th century, the practice of my faith had become too routine, too habitual, too ordinary, and I was not receiving sustenance from rituals that renewed me. I think many of us who are religious struggle with this gap, the disparity between our intentions and our actions. This is normal; because we live busy lives, we begin to take our faith for granted. I was praying out of obligation, not delight. Nothing terribly wrong with that, but I was missing out on joy.
What did you find in the Qur’an at the beginning of your study that encouraged you to study Qur’an in detail, and even to undertake the ambitious project to write a book on the Qur’an?
As I started to read and study Qur’an, I could see that Christians and Muslims shared many similar ideas and approaches to our faith. New language and new images that emerged from my study inspired me to embrace universal truths that all monotheists claim.
The first idea that woke me up to the beauty of my faith was the universal desire for all who live out of a religious stance to surrender. Even though I had surrendered to my faith (that is why I wear a collar around my neck as an Episcopal priest — it signifies my desire to be “collared” to God), I had viewed the act of surrendering by Muslims as an act of self-degradation. Once I realized that Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) was preaching to all people of the book, ahl al kitab, and that I was part of his community, I listened more carefully to his call to submit and recognized his desire for all to be humble, peaceful and intentional.
To relinquish, to abandon, to hand over, to release, to accept, to desire all for God is the first conscious act of my life, and I remind myself every morning of this surrender. Though counter-intuitive to most, this act is what sets me free. No longer my will, but God’s will, words, ideas, images, hopes, dreams, desires descend from the source of all life, and I know I am never alone.
The daily reminder of this presence is what gives me the courage and patience to sit with others in their pain. When I am with students who are struggling to absorb difficult information, either about their family, their friends or even their own misguided actions, I wait and listen. I have skills as a priest and educator, but often words come to me not born out of my own talents and experiences, but rather from above, revealing themselves to me from the first conscious act of surrendering which has forever marked us as God’s own. I am reminded of a hadith qudsi of the prophet in which God says, “Neither my Earth nor my Heavens can encompass Me; only the Heart of my believing servant can encompass Me.” To surrender has given us a bond to trust, within sight, which can never be severed. We are never alone.
Please describe examples of insights that speak to you from Qur’an and explain the reasons for your choices.
Two hadiths became markers on my journey to this act of submission: “He who knows himself will know his Lord,” and “Die before you die.” In other words, die to your ego before dying a physical death and in that way you will discover your true self and your heart will become the home of your intellect. Compassion, hospitality and peace will open doors to intimacy and pave the path of good deeds.
I also love the concept of fitra. We are all infused with the breath of God and have been bestowed with the capacity to know the good. Not victims to the whims and vagaries of our society, our environment, our governments, or even our families, we have been created to recognize and to know the good, to know what is right and to speak to the truth. It is as if the North Star, true north, non-wavering, has been set within our spirit, ruh, never playing false, never taking us off course, and we have been given the capacity to see God’s ways of justice, mercy, compassion, and love. Our work in life is to discover and live what is right. It takes effort.
The indwelling reality of fitra answered one of my long-searching questions. How was it that a man or woman in a place like South Africa, for instance, under apartheid rule, could challenge his or her parents, teachers, ministers, friends, lawyers, judges, policemen, and civil servants’ racist beliefs. Where did she get the insight, the courage, and the vision to know what was just, when the law of the land stated otherwise?
How was it that Archbishop Desmond Tutu knew that dignity for all trumped unjust laws? His identity and beliefs as a Christian, of course, helped him to name the good, unequivocally, but that’s not all he or others like him have relied on. The idea of God-given fitra, bestowed upon all people of all nations, of all religions and beliefs, secured into the fibers of Adam, humanity’s DNA, made simple sense to me. This bestowal was the only way we could claim that we knew what was just.
And so I had a new understanding — knowing the Good was the link to knowing God. And knowing the Good did not emerge from society, order, laws, religious authority or even my feelings of satisfaction from doing good deeds. Knowing the Good was granted upon all people as a gift. Our vocation, then, as vicegerents (khalifa) is to discover the indwelling of God within.
While studying the concept of fitra, I felt liberated. We all have true north knitted into our very being that transcends moral lessons, or justifications or societal acceptance and gives to us the capacity to recognize the Source of all life, “God the Eternal, the Uncaused Cause of All That Exists” (112:2).
I understand that you see the Qur’an as a “life guidebook”? When did you reach that conclusion? Please substantiate your answers with examples from the Qur’an?
When you are in doubt, the Qur’an addresses this specifically: “Now Verily, it is We who have created man, and We know what his innermost self whispers within him: for We are closer to him than his neck-vein. And whenever the two demands of his nature come face to face, contending from the right and from the left, not even a word can he utter but there is a Watcher with him, ever-present” (50:15-18).
The Watcher is our source of freedom. Out of this understanding, I then explored tawhid, God’s oneness, and soon understood that this was not about Oneness, but rather about Unity. God transcended Oneness, because One was still a category. Limited in our own finite language, God as One was the place holder to point to the much richer idea of tawhid, the unseen harmony that orders our world, weaving in and out a stability we can rely on, but not fully comprehend. We marvel at the beauty of nature, the complexities of our thinking, the grace of symmetry, and the power of polarity, and one of our responsibilities as vicegerents is to explore this harmony.
And so scientists, just by the nature of their work, are acting in faith. To look, to question, to ponder, to consider, to put things under microscopes and through telescopes, or to create a logic that takes us to new understanding emerged from the union of science and religion, not the battle over and against. Science and religion are not at odds, but need each other to advance society. In fact, we have many examples of scientific breakthroughs emerging within Islamic civilizations.
The capacity to reason is what allows us to revel in tawhid. And with this charge, I began to read the Qur’an accepting the challenge that the words could not pass over my tongue as easily as milk, and that I needed to read (iqra) within the proclamation for contemplation, tadabbur.
Do you plan to take this motto of learning and teaching Qur’an and Islam forward?
Some of my favorite surahs and ayats, I carry around my neck, just as my destiny has been tied to my neck (17:13) and the words from the Qur’an have become part of my morning prayers, just as the scripture from Moses and Jesus are.
God has bonded with me an inner certainty that allows me to look and see (2:118). God holds sway over all that exists (14:48), and requires us to be good stewards of creation, yet God has also willed upon Himself the law of grace and mercy (6:12) as His grace, rahmah, overspreads everything (7:156). In the center of all life is God’s forgiveness, which will outstrip, always, wrath, and so we are given new life each day, always a new beginning.
“Be just: this is the closest to being God-conscious, taqwa, (5:8) and be wary of those who make oaths, uttered without thought (5:89) or call on empty names which they invented (7:71) stirring up discord (9:46) with scarcity and fear hung around their necks (3:180), yet acting as if they have God’s authority, attributing their own lying to God (16:116).
Hypocrisy and arrogance are the great sins, and the root of shirk, because they are rooted in a false submission to God, and by their very nature keep God beyond arm’s reach (2:7). Hell is not a place to use as a threat and to produce fear, but rather as a way to explore a disposition, a burning despair (6:70) that can settle into all of us, and once we realize the pain of our separation from God, we can wake up to our calling to walk with accountability and responsibility on the straight path.
Good deeds endure forever (18:46); people of faith, make use of God’s gifts (14:33) and take delight in these verses, for they are for people who think (30:24).
On the basis of your experience of studying Qur’an, how much do you think understanding other religions can help people to live in peace and harmony?
The contemplation of the verses of Qur’an has helped me to deepen my faith. The study indeed helps and ensures peace and harmony among humanity.
I did not read alone. I think all scripture demands to be read within a community. And so, while teaching Islam to my 10th graders, 15-year-olds, I introduced the study of the Qur’an in translation, using Muhammad Asad’s, “The Message of the Qur’an.” His careful notes, analysis and transliteration of the Arabic into English helped us enter into the beauty of the Qur’an.
You have students from different backgrounds and beliefs studying at Phillips Exeter: What were their reactions to taking your course, “Introduction to Islam?”
My students knew that to be informed global citizens, they had to understand Islam. They were eager to learn about one of the great monotheistic religions, not just because they were curious, but because they didn’t want to be ignorant.
One of the gifts of teaching at Phillips Exeter Academy is the small class size: no teacher has more than 12 students in his or her room, and we all sit around a large wooden oval table. We can see each other. All classes are taught around a table — math, science, history, language, art, English, religion and philosophy. Students are keen to learn about all religions, including Islam.
We call our pedagogy, Harkness, named after the benefactor who endowed the school with enough money to make small classes feasible. But his most important gift was his requirement for teachers not to lose the “middling” student who often was ignored because no one paid enough attention to him or her. Every student who walks into every classroom must be prepared because the success of a class will depend on the work each student did the night before. For math, the students have 12 word problems that demand solutions. For science they read in preparation to dissect. For humanities, they study primary sources, or sonnets or essays. And they write often. If students come to class unprepared, the teacher sits in silence. The responsibility of learning rests with those gathered at the table. My students were just as serious about studying Islam as they were about studying math.
You have traveled widely across Asia, Africa and the US. How can different religious groups ensure global peace and interfaith harmony?
My role as teacher is to guide, to help the students deepen their conversations, to make references to the texts before us, to struggle with paradoxes, incongruities, assumptions and complexities. Our questions are just as critical to our conversations as our findings. Insights emerge from a collaborative process as we weave our ideas in and out of our efforts to discover, to connect and to know. As their teacher, I do not come to class with lesson plans, or a set of questions or an agenda of what we have to accomplish. We trust; just as the wisdom of the hadith reminds us, “the teacher kindles the light, the oil is already in the lamp.”
The only way I can prepare for this encounter is to read, and to read as much as I can about the subject we are discussing. And to be patient; this is key. Listening, paying attention to body language, hearing a tone or a sigh or a poorly articulated idea and transforming our efforts into insights takes practice – and these are all lessons which can be transferred to a global platform.
You have made a statement that may sound odd to our readers: “By reading the Qur’an, I have become a better Christian and a better priest.” How did that happen?
I have been teaching at Exeter for almost 20 years and I have over 10,000 hours of sitting with students with shared texts between us. And through practice, I have learned how to enter into the dance of our engagement as we have learned how to think together.
Imagine putting Qur’an into this context. I knew I wanted to read the Qur’an, but frankly, it was overwhelming. I didn’t know how to start and there wasn’t much help. Scholars were inclined to tell me what to think, but I wanted to have an encounter with the living text, not something second-hand. And so I brought 12 copies of Muhammad Asad’s translation of the Qur’an to my classroom, and I asked my students if they would be willing to read with me.
They were thrilled. With no plan of how to begin, we jumped in, reading about an hour a night before each class. And even though students read from different surahs, we found ourselves engaged in some of the most pressing questions about the human condition:
Why did God give over the world to humans? Will we choose to do the good? What is the good? How do we know the straight path? Is reason a gift from God or part of our DNA? How do we understand and access our own integrity? Will we accept the need for accountability or will we acquiesce and give over creation to those who have garnered their own abusive power? Why should we care about the poor and the oppressed? Why is hypocrisy the fastest route to committing great atrocities? What do we do with those who are bent on doing evil? Is there a source of all Life, and will we accept this source as our home away from home, with the hope of return?
My students are not particularly religious, but they love talking about religious ideas, as long as no one tells them what they must think.
So here’s my insight: We who are involved in the academic study of the Qur’an and the academic study of the Bible are having conversations about destiny and hope and accountability and forgiveness in ways that expand our spiritual and emotional horizons. What path my students take is up to them as there, “shall be no coercion in matters of faith” (2:256), but for me this study has only served to fully strengthen my faith.
Tell us about the book you have been inspired to write about the Qur’an. How did this idea come to mind?
I am in the midst of writing the book about my experience with my wonderful students and our insights about the Qur’an’s message. With their enthusiasm, curiosity and commitment, they taught me the wonder and the power of crossing into the new territory of sacred scripture that is not my own. They gave me courage to read across a boundary, and when you read across a boundary you have the opportunity to examine your own boundaries and your own boxes.
By opening the pages to the Qur’an, and experiencing a new text as sojourners in a new land, we were given the opportunity to explore how we had boxed up God, religion, faith, Christianity, Islam, science, even each other, and we became aware that our definitions, no matter how accurate, were limiting and restrictive. We were being invited into a new complexity, full of humility and delight. Sympathy and compassion were helping us to see.
With the Qur’an, and its gift of hospitality, and with my students, and their gift of generosity, I have been blessed with my faith that longs for God and relies in the “most trustworthy handhold” (31:22).
What are your impressions about Saudi Arabia? Please answer this question with special reference to your interactions with the people during your trip to the Kingdom.
I was greeted with the warmest welcome in Saudi Arabia. Introduced to committed educators, passionate entrepreneurs, families and steadfast believers, I had the wonderful opportunity and privilege to talk about hopes and dreams that are dear to all who care about issues of faith, opportunity, education and peace. By taking tours through private and public schools, by listening to students in their classrooms, by sitting with government ministers and school administrators and by reading strategic position papers, I became engaged with your commitment to put student learning at the heart of Saudi Arabia’s goal to meet the challenges of the 21st century.
By witnessing many creative initiatives that range from new kindergarten classes, global scouting, innovative cultural festivities and the embrace of the latest teaching technologies, I was impressed by a people committed to transforming ideas into the reality of shaping leaders, who know how to acquire knowledge, to innovate, and to serve as catalysts for a world in desperate need for cooperation and partnerships. An example of inspired global leadership is the King Abdullah Bin Abdulaziz International Center for Interreligious and Intercultural Dialogue (KAICIID), which was recently opened in Vienna, Austria. The KAICIID is taking a timely and critical lead in bringing religious leaders of all faiths together in order to first discover a mutual understanding of what we, as global citizens, hold in common that transcends cultural and ethnic identity, and then secondly to design programs that enrich our capacity to live in the vision of respect and dignity, because we have been, “created out of a male and female into nations and tribes in order that you might come to know one another” (49:13).
I learned more about KAICCID, while visiting the Riyadh-based King Abdulaziz National Dialogue Center, which is doing important work on the ground, village by village, to confront misconceptions of the “other” and to give new language and new ways of understanding differences. Coming together to know each other is a holy act. The capacity of our heart can be measured by the breadth of our horizons as we look beyond ourselves and discover that whether you live in Saudi Arabia, America, China, India, Brazil, Kenya, or Turkey, informed citizens of the world will demand ways for all of us to embrace dignity, honor and peace.
