My name is Justin Peyton, and I am a 29-year-old African American convert to Islam, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. I grew up in a loving, two-parent, and middle-class household with three siblings.
Growing up, my family and I identified ourselves as Christians, but we were never members of a church, nor did we attend Sunday services or other activities. The extent of religious expression in our home was celebrating Christmas.
[…] If I had to identify one single event as the starting point for my journey to Islam, it would have to be the tragic events of 9/11. After months of seeing very unflattering media coverage about Islam and Muslims, it occurred to me that the negative portrait being painted did not coincide with the experiences I had with Muslim classmates, neighbors, and others, growing up in Philadelphia.
It also occurred to me that despite knowing Muslims, I had never actually bothered to take the time to learn about their faith.
So, with the open-mindedness instilled in me by my parents, I decided to research some facts about Islam in order to reconcile the apparent disparity between my personal experiences and media coverage.
[…] Spurred to learn more, I went to a local bookstore, purchased a copy of the Quran, and began to read. I could spend pages listing which information struck me most and why, but suffice it to say that everything that I read made intrinsic sense to me.
After a few more months I decided that reading and learning about Islam on my own was not enough, so I searched to find any nearby mosques.
I contacted the closest mosque, which was about 45 miles away, spoke to their president, and arranged a time to visit and discuss Islam with local Muslims.
On the appointed day, I showed up and spent a great deal of time talking to a very helpful brother. Unbeknownst to me, the information he shared permeated my heart.
During my second visit […] it dawned on me that I believed that Islam was the truth, so right then and there, I took my Testimony of Faith and spent the whole weekend at the mosque learning what was necessary for me to perform the ritual prayers on my own when I returned to school.
That community was wonderful and had I stayed in the vicinity, and I am sure that I would have received a lot of support adjusting to my life as a new Muslim. But that was not to be. Prior to the events of 9/11, I had developed an interest in the military, and continued discussions with local armed forces recruiters, concurrent with the exploration of Islam that would lead to my conversion. […] Looking back on that part of my life, I am grateful for the skills I gained and the experiences I had during the course of my service. But in retrospect, the timing between these two events was less than ideal.
Even after leaving training, I was located in an area of the U.S. With no Muslim community, which prevented me from developing my faith. It wasn't until some three years into my service that I met another practicing Muslim service member who would be able to teach me both about Islam and how to navigate military life as a Muslim. May God reward him for his efforts.
After completing my military service in the summer of 2007, I moved back to Philadelphia, became an active member of a local mosque, and was blessed with the ability to obtain a job at the local chapter of the Council on American Islamic Relations (CAIR), a non-profit civil rights and advocacy organization for Muslims.
The two years I spent as a part of the Philadelphia Muslim community, and an employee of CAIR-PA was a tremendous learning experience that really spurred my development and whetted my appetite for more.
And that leads me to where I am now, an Islamic chaplaincy student at Hartford Seminary in Connecticut, pursuing its combined Masters of Arts in Islamic studies, Christian-Muslim relations and Graduate Certificate in Islamic chaplaincy.
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My name is Frank Estrada. I was raised a Roman Catholic. I was so devout; I even hoped to one day serve in the priesthood. I accepted the church’s teachings even when I didn't agree with them. I even took every chance I got to convert people in the hopes of bringing them to Allah.
While serving in the US Marines, I did two tours in the Middle East. In a short time, I developed a hatred for Arabs and Islam. After I left active duty, I took a job with a company as a network administrator in Iraq. I worked with a man named Ahmed. In the beginning, I didn't trust him simply because of his background. I'm lucky that he was patient with me.
Slowly, due to my ignorance, he taught me about the Prophet, may the mercy and blessings of God be upon him, and the Quran. He didn't teach me in words; rather, he showed me that Muslims are not evil through his actions. More than that, he taught me the truth of Allah's Message.
After I came home, I began to study Islam seriously. I took a world religions course at Mesa Community College. Though I found the course prejudicial to Islam, it seemed to push me closer to it. I met a young woman named Amal in the class. We would spend hours talking and debating about Islam and Catholicism. I found her arguments both logical and reasonable.
I started taking Arabic courses, so I could learn to read and understand the Quran properly. I still have a long way to go. I spoke to everyone I knew that was Muslim but, more than that, I watched them to see if their actions matched their words. I never saw any hypocrisy. I even went to the Masjid in Tempe, Arizona to talk to other Muslims and the Imam.
What finally brought me to my conversion though, was the Shahadah. I read it and tried to see how it fit with my beliefs. I compared it to the First Commandment and found them to be identical. It was at that point that I had an epiphany.
Catholicism, whatever else it was, was polytheistic. The realization was shattering to me. I knew at that point that I could not obey the laws of Allah and continue to praise the Prophet Jesus, peace be upon him, as his son.
I talked it over with my wife. She was concerned, to say the least. We spent hours discussing what it would do to our family. She went with me to the Masjid where we spoke with a man named Muhammed. Not only was he able to sway her fears, she decided to convert as well!
Becoming Muslim was no doubt the right decision. My friends and family, save my parents, were very supportive. My father would not speak to me for the next three months. My wife's family, to this day, is still unsupportive. I do not doubt that Allah will soften their hearts in the future.
I thank Allah for all the people he has brought into my life to show me the truth. I thank Him for giving me a mind to understand the truth. More than that, I thank Allah for my loving and understanding wife who has come to the truth with me.
I shall end this paper as I began the day. There is no deity worthy of worship but Allah, and Muhammad is His prophet.
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It was a typical day. I woke up early before my parents and got ready to go running in the park near our house. Running without music seemed almost impossible to me; it seemed as though my body responded to physical activities better when music was playing through my ears. My iPod was full of my favorite songs and was ready to flow energy into my feet. I pressed the round button of play but... what was it playing? I have never heard such a thing! Never put it on my iPod! My finger slipped on the left arrow to skip it, but something stopped it. It was The Miracle of Words...
It wasn't a song or poem; someone was reciting some words with a very fascinating and melodious rhythm. I couldn't make out the words, never heard the language spoken in it. However, its effect was so strong that for a second, I couldn't move. It seemed as if I had been exposed to an electric shock. I replayed it a thousand times, and each time my feelings arose stronger than before.
I rushed home to find out who the writer of these words was and who was reciting them and more importantly who put it on my iPod. The latter mystery was solved quite easily; I’d downloaded it from the net instead of another song, but how I’d made such a mistake, I never found out.
To find the writer of those words, I didn't know where to search. Since I didn't understand it and didn't know the language, I couldn't search for it on the net. So I decided to play it for my father who knew some languages. He recognized it instantly...
The day after the incident, I went to the nearest bookshop and to the surprise of the shopkeeper, I bought the book-of course the English translation- that carried those enchanting words. I couldn't wait longer, so the second that he handed me the book I started reading it.
The content was deep and compelling, however, the feeling that I experienced by hearing the original words did not arise in me by reading the translation. But the book still was so absorbing that I finished it in a matter of days.
I wasn't satisfied. I had to figure out the secret of the original words. It became a matter of life and death for me; I had to pursue it, or my life would have lost its meaning. So, I decided to learn the language of the book. It was a very formidable decision since the language was not in the least like my own and it was considered to be one of the hardest languages in the world.
Nevertheless, I found a place and started learning it. It took me months to be able to read some words of the book and understand their meaning, however, the more I learned, the more voracious I became in following the path I had chosen.
Gradually, I came to realize some of the extraordinary aspects of the word choice of that book. The words were chosen based on a careful and precise symmetry as well as coordination; they were irreplaceable since they were so firmly bound together both in meaning and tone. If you had replaced a word with its close synonym, the whole sentence and even the entire part would have become inconsistent and wouldn’t have had the same effect at all.
Moreover, the careful choice of the words in each part had a direct influence over the tone of that part; sometimes cautionary and awakening, sometimes annunciatory and promising, and in both cases pierces instantly into your heart. Reading the words makes you feel like you are reciting a melodious poem written in prose style, yet no poem or prose could be considered equal to it.
In a few months, the charm of the Quran’s words changed me into a whole new person; from an aimless and disconcerted girl to one whose purpose is as clear as daylight, full of hope and positivity. This experience that marked a turning point in my life came to me as a miracle; you too can go on the same journey and find your way out; just hear these words once and feel the difference by yourself.
References:
- Mohammad Hadi Ma'arefat. Qur’anic sciences. Qom: Al tahmid, 1381.
- new muslim