Perhaps 1000 Iraqis died yesterday when panic gripped crowds gathering at a mosque in Baghdad. On the same day, the American people realised that thousands of their own had died in the floods and wreckage of Katrina at home.
I flew from Dubai early this week as each region prepared - the Arab world for the celebration of Al Israa Wal Miraj (the Night Journey and Ascension) and the American south for the onslaught of Katrina.
The Night Journey and Ascension celebrates the mystical trip of Mohammad from Mecca to Jerusalem where he ascended to heaven to pray with older prophets including Jesus and Moses and receive the 5 daily prayers of Islam. The holiday celebrates the oneness of all faith, of all men, of all prophets in serving the one God. It also acknowledges that belief in the mystical unseen tests faith, as the tale of Mohammad's journey led to his persecution and flight from Mecca.
Katrina threatened the other side of the world. It was a storm rather than a miracle, but it would also prove the impetus for a great exodus of refugees and a test of faith.
Before departing Dubai I made a last pilgrimage to the desert. I have always loved desert and I always feel closest to God there. It is reasonable to me that Moses, Jesus and Mohammad all spent 40 days in isolation in the desert communing with God before each became a prophet. When there is nothing gentle or welcoming to embrace you, nothing certain to grasp but shifting sands, the human heart instinctively reaches out to communicate with God.
As a Unitarian I have no need of cathedrals, priests or creeds. God is with me daily, and I pray as and when it occurs to me. My favourite passage from the Bible is in Matthew 6:6 when the disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray. He instructs them to seclude themselves, speak in secret, and talk to God as they would to a loving parent in the words of their hearts. Jesus frequently wanders into the desert to pray alone to God.
Dubai itself is composed of magnificent modern buildings along the sparkling white sands of the Arabian Gulf. The buildings are surrounded by stunning green landscaping. A few miles inland, however, brings you to what Thesiger and Lawrence called "the Empty Quarter" - one of the harshest deserts on the planet. Even nomadic Arabs feared the Empty Quarter where slight carelessness or misfortune would mean death in the unforgiving vastness.
I enjoyed travelling into the desert when I could - especially as night was falling. The setting sun would light the sands and stones with a mystical rose tint, a warm and promising glory even as darkness crept along in lengthening shadows. I found myself thinking the Arabic phrase Al-hamdulillah - literally "praise to God". It is used constantly in that part of the world to denote gratitude for any blessing or good event, and I found I said or thought it myself many times a day when I noted blessings small and large.
That evening in the desert I had a grateful heart and I praised God, but I was also fearful and I prayed too. I prayed that Bush would not bring to the people of Iran and Venezuela the suffering, fear and loss that he has wreaked on Iraqis. I prayed that Americans would reject the selfishness and narrow-mindedness of recent years and once again embrace the principles of equality, generosity, peace and goodwill which should bind our people together. I prayed that America would do more to recognise and accommodate the 5.7 billion people sharing the planet we call Earth. I trusted God to know my heart and guide me as I left Dubai and returned to London.
Here I have watched events unfold. Death in the American south. Death in Baghdad. Suffering of thousands as they experience loss, pain, fear and despair.
Yes, we on the left can play politics with tragedy and trace each event as the responsibility of George W. Bush and his callous and inhuman policies of war and profiteering. Some on the right say that those who died in Baghdad should not have panicked and that those who died in the Gulf Coast states should have panicked more, and so blame the victims for their own deaths. Each view is perhaps just in some degree, but neither helps to heal the scars and console the survivors.
I like the image of Mohammad praying with Jesus and Moses, and with John, Joseph, Enoch and Abraham. Perhaps we should all pray as one in our faith in our God, and act to one another not as competitors for God's glory but as equals in the blessing of sharing God's grace and benevolence in this wonderful little blue-green planet.
God taught Mohammad that night in heaven that good intentions were counted, but that good deeds counted more. Let us all embrace that lesson and make our intentions manifest in actions to help and comfort our brothers and sisters at home and abroad, and to counter the forces bringing and intensifying such destruction and loss.