Islam from a Quaker Perspective: A Talk at Westminster Gardens, Oct. 22, 2025

Islam from a Quaker Perspective

A Talk at Westminster Gardens, Oct. 22, 2025

Thank you for inviting me to speak about Islam. What a joy and honor to be back with you! As you know, I am not a Muslim, I am a Quaker, but Islam has played a significant role in my life since 9/11, so I am happy to share my story and what I have learned about Islam over the past 24 years from a Quaker perspective.

Prior to 9/11, I had no contact with Muslims that I was aware of. When I saw how President Bush and others were reacting to this tragedy, I was terrified not so much by terrorists, but by what was happening in our nation. I could see and feel the spirit of fear and vengeance that took hold of people, with flags flying everywhere and calls for a War on Terrorism both at home and worldwide. Muslims were seen as evil doers out to destroy civilization.

At the time, I was working on a book about Gene Hoffman, a Quaker peacemaker who was my mentor. This book is called “Compassionate Listening.” Her work inspired a Jewish activist named Leah Green to start the Compassionate Listening Project, about which I’ll say more later. Gene Hoffman wrote these insightful words about terrorist based on her experience with pastoral counseling and peace making:

“Some time ago, I recognized that terrorists were people who had grievances, who thought their grievances would never be heard and certainly never addressed. Later, I saw that all parties to every conflict were wounded, and that at the heart of every act of violence was an unhealed wound. I began to search for ways we peace people might help to heal these violence-causing wounds.”

As I prayed for guidance, the words “Perfect love drives out fear” (1 John 4:18) came to mind and became my mantra. What would love lead me to do to heal the wounded in these dark times? Realizing that Ramadan was about to start, I decided to fast as Muslims do: refraining from food and water from sunrise to sunset. I also made a commitment to read the entire Qu’ran during Ramadan. And I reached out to the local mosque to get to know my Muslim neighbors.

This was a life-changing experience. When my Muslim neighbors heard that I was fasting and reading the Quran, they were elated. They also appreciated that I was reaching out to them in friendship during this challenging time when they were being demonized. I was invited to the homes of Muslim families for a fast-breaking meal called an iftar and became acquainted with Muslim hospitality. This was the beginning of beautiful friendships that have deepened over the years.

I started attending gatherings of Muslims, like the Muslim Public Affairs Council, where I heard and got to know prominent Muslim leaders like Maher Hatthout, Hassan Hathout, Shakeel Syed, Hussam Ayloush, and Sherrel Johnson.

I wrote a pamphlet called “Islam from a Quaker Perspective” in which I tried to explain Islam to Quakers and Quakers to Muslims. It was published by Quaker Universalist Fellowship and translated into German. The pamphlet was later incorporated into a book of essays I edited called “Quakers and the Interfaith Movement.”  I even wrote a science fiction novel with a Muslim protagonist called “The Relics of America: The Fall of the American Empire.” I have brought copies of these books if you are interested.

I began my first Ramadan fast on November 17, 2001.  In addition to fasting, I also made a commitment to read the entirety of Abdullah Yusuf  Ali’s monumental work, The Meaning of the Holy Qur’an, which was highly recommended by Muslims.

During the weeks that followed, I visited both Shi’ite and Sunni mosques and joined in communal prayers. I also incorporated some Muslim prayers into my daily religious practice. Using Michael Sell’s translation, I learned to say the opening prayer of the Qur’an in Arabic:

In the name of God, the compassionate, the caring,

bi  smi  llahi r-rahmani  r-rahim,

praise be to God , lord sustainer of the worlds

al-hamdu     lillahi rabbi l-’alamin master of the  day  of reckoning, maliki yawmi d-din

to you  we turn to worship

iyaka na’budu

and to you we turn in time of need

wa iyaka nasta’in

lead  us on the  straight road

ihdina s-sirata l-mustaqim

the  road  of those you have given  to whom

sirata l-ladina an’amta ‘alayhim not  those with anger upon  them ghayri maghdubi ‘alayhim

not  those who have gone  astray.

wa la d-dalin.*

This prayer sums up the essence of Islam and is to Muslims what the Lord’s prayer is to Christians. By the way, there is nothing in this prayer that Christians could disagree with and nothing in the Lord’s prayer that Muslims would disagree with! Each day I rose before dawn, prayed this and other prayers, ate breakfast, and studied the Qur’an. I prayed at least five times each day, facing north (the direction of Mecca for those in California) and bowing with forehead to the ground in the Muslim manner. When I told Muslims that I was observing Ramadan, they were extremely pleased and impressed. They were not only eager to discuss Islam with me, but they also wanted to know more about my Quaker faith. Observing Ramadan thus became an opening for what the Quaker scholar and ecumenist Douglas Steere called “mutual irradiation”— the sharing of the “Light that enlightens all men and women”  (John 1:9).

The most common reason that Muslims gave for fasting during Ramadan was that it helps us to empathize with those who are poor and don’t have enough food and water. Others spoke of self-discipline, or of religious obligation. A Muslim physician and religious leader from Orange County, California, named Maher Hathout pointed out that the ability to fast—to delay gratification—is what distinguishes human beings from animals. It is also a test of faithfulness and integrity since only God knows if we are truly fasting or sneaking food when no one  is looking!

Many Muslims seemed surprised that a non-Muslim American had the self-discipline to fast. Sad to say, we Americans are seen as an extremely self-indulgent people, given to compulsive overeating and to equally compulsive dieting. When we diet, we generally do it for selfish reasons—to improve our health or our appearance. Fasting, on the other hand, is discipline that helps us to become unselfish and spiritually healthy. As the Greek Orthodox saint John Chrysostom observed: “Fasting is medicine” (Homilies, III.  ca. 388 C.E.) Practiced with humility, fasting helps to free us of our addictive behaviors, and can deepen our connection with God and with our fellow human beings—especially with those who are poor and hungry.

I learned this lesson very keenly one afternoon when the hunger pangs became so intense, and my energy level so low, that I had to quit work at four o’clock. I walked to a nearby park to watch the sun set (which seemed to take forever).  My throat parched, and my belly rumbling, I realized that I could break my fast and end my discomfort at any time, whereas hundreds of millions of people (most of them children and mothers) don’t have this option. That night, after my meal, I sat down and wrote checks to charitable organizations with more joy than I have ever before experienced. Fasting, I discovered, can do wonders to stimulate compassion and the urge to be charitable.

I have been fasting during Ramadan ever since, except for the year of COVID. In fact, I was led to make a commitment to fast during Ramadan until there is peace in the Middle East, so I probably will be fasting for the rest of my life, God willing and health permitting.

This act of reaching out to Muslims led me to go to Muslim and interfaith gatherings that transformed my life. My email monicker became interfaithquaker@aol.com and I started giving workshops on interfaith peacemaking at Quaker gatherings. Over 20 years ago I became involved with Interfaith Communities United for Justice and Peace, which was started right after 9/11 by religious leaders such as Rabbi Beerman, Rev. James Lawson, Steve Rohde, Meher Hathout, Rev. George Regas and other prominent religious leaders. Its motto is “religious communities must stop blessing war and violence.” We meet every Friday morning to hear speakers on social justice, we organize events and vigils, and some of us have gotten arrested protesting war. It was at ICUJP that I met Viriginia Classic, my friend and co-conspirator for peace and justice.

During the years I have stood in solidarity with the Muslim community as we advocated to end torture, release prisoners from Guantanamo, and end apartheid and genocide in Israel/Palestine. One of the most memorable experiences I had was visiting a Muslim being held in detention on Terminal Island on trumped up charges. He was a deeply spiritual man and never expressed bitterness or anger about how he had been mistreated. We saw each other through a glass darkly, unable to touch, but we felt each other’s hearts. A couple of years later I was praying at a Muslim gathering and at the end of our prayers, I saw him, felt a surge of joy, and we embraced. He was finally free! I felt that as if the gates of paradise had opened and God was smiling upon us.

I also went to Israel/Palestine with the Compassionate Listening Project in 2005. The delegation was led by two brilliant women—a Muslim lawyer named Maha El-Tajik and a Jewish activist named Leah Green who has become a dear friend. We listened to Israelis and Palestinians who were working for peace. We also listened to heart-breaking stories of parents who’d lost children to this conflict. I came to appreciate the power of compassionate, non-judgmental listening. When traumatized people tell their stories and feel heard, their hearts are changed. This is an important aspect of peacemaking. If you’d like to know more, I suggest you check out the compassionate listening website or read my book. I’m also happy to answer questions.

In addition to peace and justice work, I was also interested in the spiritual side of Islam and wrote a pamphlet about Sufism and Quakerism, based on my experience with various Sufi communities in Philadelphia, New Mexico and here in Southern California.

Outwardly, Quakerism (the mystical branch of Christianity) and Sufism (the mystical branch of Islam) may seem worlds apart. Sufism is associated with dervish dancing, exotic Middle Eastern music, and the ecstatic poetry of Rumi. Quakerism is associated with peace activists, plain-dressed people sitting in silent worship, and William Penn, the founder of Pennsylvania, and the icon of oatmeal. But there are deep affinities between these two spiritual paths, and it is no accident that Quakerism and Sufism refer to its practitioners as “Friends.”

I published my pamphlet as a series of blog entries exploring the similarities between these spiritual paths and suggest how they can help us to become more intimately connected with our true selves and with Reality. These mystical paths also have a prophetic dimension—a social witness against materialism and injustice--that is much needed in today’s world. We live at a time when most people in the industrial world inhabit a “virtual reality”—a world of television, movies, and the internet—a world where we are defined by what we buy rather than who or what we are. In this unreal world of compulsive consumerism, we become addicted to our desires and eventually become prey to fears and anxieties. These fears become the seeds of bigotry, violence and war.

Mysticism, as practiced by Quakers and the Sufis, can help free us from our fears and our addictions and lead us onto the path of true freedom. As we come to know who we truly are and become acquainted with our true self, we can also form deep, life-transforming relationships with others, based on the realization that each person is sacred and therefore worthy of our deepest attention and respect. This is the way of Friends.

Sufism is the mystical heart of Islam. It emerged in the 8th century CE as an Islamic ascetic movement. Some scholars see connections between Sufism, Buddhism and Christianity and no doubt such connections exist, but most Sufis see their practice as deeply rooted in Islam. Early practitioners of Sufism include Hasan al-Basri (642-728) and Rabiah al-Adawiay (d. 801), the first great female Sufi teacher and poet. Perhaps the most famous Sufi is Jalal a-din Rumi who founded the Mevlevi order (known as whirling dervishes) and has become the most popular poet in America, thanks to Coleman Barks’ imaginative translations. Sufis played a political role in Islamic history, often standing up for the rights of the poor and oppressed. Sufism has also encouraged women to be spiritual teachers and leaders.

I could tell many stories of wonderful encounters with Sufis, but I will limit myself to just one. I once attended a Sufi gathering in Los Angeles where everyone formed a circle chanting in Arabic the name and attributes of God. This practice is called zikr, which means “remembering.” When the chanting was over, I went to a man and asked, “What is Sufism all about?” He smiled and said, “Why don’t you ask my wife. She’s over there.” So I asked her the same question, and she smiled and responded, “God is right here,” pointing to her heart. Her response touched my Quaker heart.

If you want to know more about Sufism and Quakerism, I suggest you check out my blog.

Speaking of the heart of Islam, I’d like to share a moving story about an experience I had with a Muslim friend just after the death of my wife Katheen Ross, a Methodist pastor. After she passed in the May of 2009, I became aware that Ramadan was going to take place in August. (Because Islam uses a lunar calendar, Ramadan occurs 10-12 days earlier each year.) I was having coffee with my dear friend Shakeel Syed, a leader in the Muslim community in Southern California, who had visited my wife in ICU and been very supportive of us. I told him that I’d like to attend an iftar during Ramadan and wondered if one was taking place in the Culver City mosque. He told me it wasn’t but proposed an alternative. “Because of my duties I am busy every day of Ramadan, except for the first day. That’s when I spend time with my family. You can join us then.” I was very moved by his gracious offer and grateful for the chance to experience Muslim hospitality with his delightful family—his wife, son and two daughters. At the end of dinner, I joined them for evening prayers and when the formal prayers were over, Shakeel lifted up his hands and offered what Muslims call dua—a special supplication to God. “Dear God,” he said. “Please show mercy to our dear Uncle Anthony and to his beloved wife Kathleen who is in Paradise.” As you can imagine, I was moved to tears. I felt I had experienced the heart of the Islamic faith.

I’d like to end by describing where my current experience with Muslims since the tragedy of October 7. I joined in vigils that took place in front of Representative Judy Chu’s office every week. I held up a sign with the logo of the American Friends Service Committee calling for a ceasefire, an arms embargo, and an end to the blockade of Gaza. At first, only a few people attended these vigils but soon there were dozens and then hundreds. We started attending city council meetings in such numbers that the mayor finally decided to call a special meeting at the Pasadena Convention Center in April 2024. Over 600 people took part, and 200 of us gave one-minute public comments. After four tumultuous hours, the Pasadena City Council unanimously approved a resolution calling for a ceasefire, return of hostages and expedited humanitarian aid. Soon afterwards, Judy Chu was one of around 50 Congress members who refused to sign a bill providing military aid to Israel. This was a significant win.

We continue to meet every Monday in front of the post office on Colorado Blvd and then go to the City Council and speak out during public comment, calling for our city to divest from companies profiting from the genocide in Gaza. We have met with elected officials and helped craft a resolution that will go before the Council, hopefully very soon. Our passionate prophetic persistence is paying off!

Our interfaith vigils often include times of prayer that are powerful and deeply spiritual. Muslims, Jews and Christians take part. My respect for the Muslim community has deepened during this crisis. Despite the daily atrocities being committed against Muslims (and Christians) by the Israelis, and despite the unconscionable and unwavering support of our government for genocide, I have not heard an antisemitic or anti-Jewish comment by my Muslim friends. Yes, they are angry and critical of Zionism and the Unites States, but they are never anti-Jewish or hateful. My dear friend Hedab Tarifi is a Muslim leader born in Gaza who has lost over 150 members of her family during this genocide. She always emanates love. She says, “My religion teaches me that I can be angry about injustice, but I must never hate.”

This, to me, is the heart of Islam and of true religion. And I am deeply grateful for my Muslim brothers and sisters for showing me, a Quaker,  how to practice the way of justice and love.