It has been one of the great privileges of my life to work for 13 years at Loma Linda University, a grand experiment in the possibility that many religions can work together in a common mission to “continue the teaching and healing ministry of Jesus Christ.” I have been often been amazed at the spiritual commitment of the non-Christian faculty and staff at LLU. Among them is Eba Hathout, Professor of Medicine and Medical Director of the Pediatric Diabetes Center at our Children’s Hospital. A self-professed “Adventist Muslim,” she speaks below with prophetic power to our situation. This is a transcript of her Ramadan speech at an interfaith event on May 14, 2020:
“It was a mere two months ago, that we were all wrapped up around ourselves. We as individuals, political parties, different-color races, religions and countries. On the global scene, our world was in a state of toxic inflammation, with fires of anger and hatred and war everywhere. Then in just one moment, on March 11, everything stopped, and the world stood still. I had been busy preparing for the annual Hassan Hathout Legacy interfaith event: For the Love of Tomorrow, which was scheduled to take place at the Huntington Gardens on March 15th. My last meeting at the venue was on March 10th when all details were final. The next morning, news about the virus invading America was starting to erupt, and I made the difficult decision to postpone our event. Later that evening, and with unprecedented speed, the whole of America shut down. My son and his classmates at Harvard Law School were told not come back to campus after Spring Break. Harvard was closing. Other colleges shut down. Schools followed. Our nation, and much of the world, was on lock down.
“As a physician, the priority at our university hospital was how to take care of patients while keeping everyone safe. We had heard the horror stories of Italy, and then of New York. The work environment changed to a war zone, with command center meetings twice a day including weekends, and numerous other virtual meetings throughout the day. At Loma Linda, every meeting starts with a prayer. A two-year transition to Telemedicine had to be done in two weeks. Quick decisions were made about which doctors needed to stay and work from home for their own safety. Visionary leaders planned and were ready for the worst in terms of casualties. However, the worst did not happen in the form of massive numbers of sick and dead people, rather it was in the many co-workers and patients’ families who had to lose income or livelihood. At work and throughout the nation, financial losses were cruel and grave.
“We take comfort in God’s insurmountable power and bountiful grace as we read in the bible: But They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength, they shall mount up with wings as eagles, they shall run and not be weary, and they shall walk and not faint.
We read echoes in the Quran: It is God who started creation that can start it again. He shall grant you endless bounties from heaven, and from earth.
Today more than ever, we are being tested for our capability to adapt, and our ability to recover. Self-renewal, in all of God’s living creatures, is what favors the survival of one species over another. It is that inner force to bounce back and move on. This too is a skill in which God can provide and guide.
“One month after ‘D-Day’ of the pandemic, I started going out for solitary walks around our Pasadena neighborhood. I couldn’t help but notice that our world had changed again. The sky was bluer, the trees were greener. I could smell more roses as the earth began to breathe. There were far more birds singing and children walking with their parents in the streets. Strangers were smiling to each other in the markets, and the pavements were full of friendly words and gestures. I didn’t know quite how to describe it other than to say that, somehow, despite the threat of a deadly virus in the air, the world felt less toxic, and more human.
“Towards the end of April, the lunar month of Ramadan started, and it was then that I realized what an unprecedented fasting month that would be. This time, it was not just Muslims who were staying home reflecting and reading scripture, Americans of all faiths were doing the same. It was as if all of America was living with us, our first common Ramadan. Our mouths are not just closed but masked with veils of different colors, as we each try to protect our neighbors and our friends. The only time we unveil is when we talk to God in prayer. Our eyes yearn for each other. We got accustomed to smiling with our eyes rather than our lips. This inconvenience is far more tolerable for those who wear the mask, not out of fear, but out of love.
“In the past, when we called for cleaner air, we sometimes forgot that toxicity was also spiritual and emotional and social. It took one tiny virus, killing thousands around the world, for us to wake up to a gentler and kinder America. And it is important as we mask and glove each day to remember why we do this. Personally, it is easier to accept that one will die whenever God destined them to, and just move on. One other factor is added to this equation, it is that negligence can carry harm to someone we love. I know many who have such orientation. Taking precautions is neither forgetful of faith nor of destiny, it is not born out of restlessness, rather it is taking a bold step out of the house of fear, and into the house of love.
In his poem, The Great Realization, Tom Roberts was asked by a little boy: why did it take a virus to bring people back together, he answered: sometimes you got to get sick before you start feeling better. That is why Hindsight is 2020.
“So here we are together, living through and making History as the generation of 2020. Therein lies the perfect milieu for fasting, where the inflammation of hatred is quietened, and many toxins that invade our ears and gut and spirit are put to rest, body and soul align to make happy brains and happy hearts. That is healing at its best. There is a depth and a height which we attain when we fast that is enormously uplifting. Whenever we reach one mountaintop, we begin to climb another. Everything shrinks to its proper dimension, and a magical power prevails. That I would argue, is the power of distilled, detoxified, and purified Love.
“As a child, I remember sitting next to my father watching the first Apollo moon landing, I recall my father’s words which echo in my conscience to this day: Isn’t it a pity, that Man who was able to reach the moon, is still not able to reach the heart of his fellow man. Now that we face this common and largely unpredictable virus threat, perhaps we can start conducting our lives with a more vivid image of an ancient and eternal reality, that of our own impermanence, and our ultimate divine destination.
“While we cannot cure the world, we can certainly do our part, where we are, with what we have..like the old story of the man who walked on the beach rescuing one starfish at a time by tossing it from the sand back to the ocean where it can live..When someone told him: “There are hundreds of beaches and thousands of starfish, you won’t make a difference..” he replied as he tossed another starfish back into the ocean: “I make a difference to this one.”
This pandemic has left us with many to resuscitate, and much to rebuild. So wherever we are, and however we can, let us take a path of love, and rescue whatever starfish come our way, remembering that if we cannot help everyone, sometimes it’s enough to make a difference to one.
“On these special last nights of Ramadan, I hope that our fast will add to the collective prayers of Americans of all faiths, and that divine healing can touch both body and soul of our nation. May God make us instruments of His mercy as we rebuild a common new path, guided by divine wisdom, and shining with God’s light.
“I pray that God will ease our deep longing for each other, and for people and places where we cannot be at present. Today in particular, I remember my own friends and say to them: In love we met, in love we part, and in love, I hope, we meet again.”