The Path Less Traveled: My Brother’s Road to Islam
A guest post written by my brother in which he explores the unseen thread weaving peace among faiths and detailing his journey from curiosity to conviction
Today’s FBF is a bit different. I asked my brother, Habeeb Henshaw, to share the story of his journey to Islam and to give some advice to my readers. Alhamdulillah, just as Moses was strengthened by his brother Harun, Habeeb has helped me deepen my faith and understanding of Islam. He formally converted in the year 2000, six years after me, but I will always look up to him for his wisdom and compassion.
I am charged with the responsibility of giving some advice.
I am not sure whether this is an honor I have earned, or a penance I no doubt deserve.
What business do I have in giving my advice?
Early Questions and Doubts
I was born to a moderately Christian family. I was enrolled in a Christian elementary school. On the first day we were given a tour of the church. There was a giant, gory crucifix hanging from the ceiling. They told us that Jesus was God. I wanted to say it looked like God needed some new paint here and there. I didn’t think it sounded right to say that Jesus was God and that God had died for my sins. Who ran things while God was dead? But I remained silent.
Then they said Jesus prayed. I thought to myself, “If he prayed, he has to have been a human being.”
I spent the next six years at the school. The school was well integrated. They taught us about the different religions. I felt that each religion was from God and there were different paths to the top of the mountain. Due to life’s perpetual mixture of sunshine and rain, I was invited to live with the family of my best friend who was Jewish.
Exploring Judaism, Political Awareness, and a Gandhi Moment
Judaism made more sense to me than the “God is God and Jesus is too” school of thought. So, when I was 12 years old, I adopted Judaism as my religion.
My new family was Reform. My religion was more about which group I identified with than about practice. When I was told I should do this or that, I accepted it without much zeal.
My friend and I were kids in America. Our politics were influenced by friends and family. We cared much more about which girls in school smiled at us than what grown-ups were focused on.
Sometimes things took place on the world stage that caught our attention. The Iranian Hostage Crisis made us angry. We wanted T-shirts showing Mickey Mouse giving Iran the middle finger.
As a result of the Iranian Revolution, overnight, our mostly Jewish school was suddenly half Iranian-Muslim fleeing the chaos in their home country.
Boy, were the Iranian girls pretty! I understood their hijabs to mean that I was not supposed to ogle them. We were probably learning the same from the other girls in school. So, I stole furtive glances and began to learn about world politics and how politics differed from religions.
These were my formative years. At 17, I saw the Gandhi movie starring Ben Kingsley. In one scene, Gandhi is telling someone India cannot persecute Indian Muslims. He says, “I’m a Muslim AND a Hindu AND a Christian AND a Jew! So are all of you! For God’s sake, STOP FIGHTING!”
I was transfixed. The words went straight to my heart. I felt like they told my story. From that point on, when I met Muslims, I would greet them with a hardy “Assallaamu alaikum!”. They would respond, usually enthusiastically. They would ask, “Are you Muslim?” When I said yes there would be smiles and we would celebrate.
In a couple of years, I started college, I began to meditate and learned much spiritual truth from from a Hindu teacher. I began to study comparative religion.
My Brother's Influence: Embracing Islam
Meanwhile, my little brother was introduced to Islam by a friend in his high school who was kind and generous and patient in the face of high school ribbing from his peers. My little brother converted to Islam at the age of fifteen. It was very important to me to see that my little brother follow the straight path and not go astray. I made it my mission to be sure that my brother understood that Islam calls Muslims to show mercy to their brothers and sisters in both faith and humanity.
So, one day I was buying gas. A man working at the station looked me in the eye. I immediately somehow knew he was Muslim.
“Assallaamu alaikum!” I said with a cheerful smile.
“Wa alaikum assallaam.” He said stepping close to me and saying without smiling, “Are you Muslim?”
“Yes.” I said.
“Say: Al Fatiha!”
“What?” I asked, somewhat taken aback.
“SAY AL FATIHA!” He demanded.
Al Fatiha is the first chapter of The Qur’an. He was asking me to prove that I was Muslim. Never in fifteen years of greeting and telling Muslims that I was Muslim, had anyone asked me to prove it.
My interrogator was immediately required to help another customer and walked away from me before I could say a word. I got in my car and raced to my office. I called my little brother, the Muslim.
“Hello?” He answered.
“TEACH ME AL FATIHA! TEACH ME AL FATIHA! YOU HAVE TO TEACH ME AL FATIHA!” I yelled into the phone.
He recited the chapter repeatedly until I could say it myself. It is only about as long as The Lord’s Prayer. I learned it by heart that day. Now I was ready for the next guy to ask me to recite a chapter of The Qur’an.
So, for more than ten years, I had believed Islam was a straight path to knowledge of God. I had greeted every Muslim I met as Muslims should greet each other. I had even taught a young Muslim how to walk the path of Islam. AND NOW, I had memorized by heart a chapter of The Qur’an.
Formal Conversion and Reflections on Peace
I think it was that same week that I went to a mosque with my little brother and officially became Muslim. I entered a humble mosque in Roxbury concerned about my brother, and I left concerned for all my brothers and sisters in faith and in humanity.
About five years later, I saw a friend with someone at the supermarket. The man I didn’t recognize said to me, “Do you know who I am?” I swear by Allah I had no idea who he was, but I, out of the blue, I began reciting Al Fatiha. He was the man from the gas station who demanded that I say Al Fatiha.
A lot of people think Jews and Muslims are fighting in the Middle East because their religions call for it. In fact, the conflict is a political war over land. Their religions call them to live in peace.
I have always believed peace in the Middle East is attainable. I studied International Relations in college specifically focused on the Middle East and US-Soviet influence. A professor in my Arab-Israeli Dilemma Class said, “NOBODY IN THE ISRAEL PALESTINE CONFLICT COMES OUT SMELLING LIKE A ROSE!”
These words instantly transformed my perspective. Ever after, I thought each people were entitled to sit at the table of peace. My altered perspective got me inspired to study comparative religion and eventually I would choose to follow Islam.
Living by Example: The Philosophy of a Simple Life
At the mosque where I took shahada. I met a man who said knowledge matters more than whatever college one attends. A diploma may open doors of opportunity, but it is the knowledge one has made their own that will come in handy.
He raised four daughters who have excelled academically and professionally in fields like medicine and science and engineering.
My friend never speaks of his accomplishments. He lives simply. Four walls and a roof in a small, rent-controlled apartment is his home. His vehicle of choice is a bicycle he picked from the trash and has repaired and improved as needed.
His resume looks a lot like mine. He has washed dishes in restaurants. He has worked as a day laborer. He has worked in construction hammering nails, sanding floors and building shelter. He does so by choice.
He knows that one day, he will breathe his last breath. He knows his flesh is made from mud and will soon be earth again. He is humble and cheerful and loving and wise. He is one of the most successful people I have ever known. He treads lightly on the earth. When one is troubled, he will make time and extend effort to help ease their burden.
A Call to Authentic Living and Personal Growth
I once pushed him to share with me his philosophy of life. He said his goal is to meet his daily needs. If it was offered, he would refuse an executive’s salary. He enjoys “keeping it real” and works with his hands to make the world a better place one day at a time. He says knowledge I gain will be with me should I ever have nothing else.
He says learn about what interests you and you will enjoy your education. Be curious. Ask questions.
Success is not a destination; it is a journey from this moment to your last day.
Visit your heart.
Imagine what you would love to do if you were given your druthers. Set a goal. We are visiting temporarily this enormous blue marble hurtling through space. None of us know how long we will live.
Dare to dream, but do not be the slave of your dreams.
In life, Robert Frost reminded us that way leads on to way. By aiming to live what you love, your burdens will be lightened.
Do not fear failure. The only failure is not to try and doors will open for you that may have never have imagined.
You are not completely unlike everyone else, and you are also absolutely unlike anyone else at the same time.
The world would not be complete without you. You were given life for a reason. Dare to be yourself.
Your final destination may be completely different from what you imagined. Walk your own path and remain true to yourself, and you will walk the path of success.
What a wonderful, thoughtful and personal reflection from someone you care so much about. I imagine it was one of the happiest moments in your life when Habeeb became Muslim. :)
mashallah