Walking in Faith
“I’d rather die on my feet, than live on my knees.”
Last time we had discussed the mental and spiritual gymnastics life often puts us through, especially in issues of social justice, and how we can often refine ourselves to be “quick on our feet” with other things, so to in matters of religious duty, obligation, and spirituality, must we need to be ready to have faith on our feet.
Now, having resolved with myself the necessity to be ready to not just support the cause of the Poor People’s Campaign March for Democracy in showing up for the end-of-march rally or even for a short stretch, but to be there, both feet, every mile, it was time to walk.
The walk started with gathering at 6am at Christ Lutheran Church in Georgetown, and the walk itself beginning at 7am. Due to COVID, the Poor People’s Campaign had intentionally limited the number of walkers to 125, with most walking part of each day’s 8 to 9 mile stretch in groups, with the first group going from 7am to 10am, the next from 10am to 1pm, and the last, if needed, from 1pm to 4pm. For me however, again going back to not just the faith obligation, but knowing that for me personally in order to get the most out of the march, the experience, and the cause, I would have to give the most of myself.
So as we started to assemble, registering, hydrating, and grubbing on breakfast tacos, I also couldn’t help but notice the sheer lack of representation of Muslims in the crowd, with the exception of myself and another Muslim sister who had driven in from Houston. Though this may have otherwise felt disheartening, knowing that the goals of this march were those which transcended any religious or theological tradition, it was inspiring at the same time to know that as one of the two Muslims marching, there were some rich and inspirational parallels and examples within the the life of the Prophet (whose biography we had been simultaneously covering at Muslim Space through the Prophet & I program), especially the story of the Prophet (before he was appointed a prophet) and the Hilf ul Fudul (Pact of Virtue/Justice). This pact came about in the life of the Prophet before Islam, in the aftermath of a foreign merchant being exploited, and took place between the tribes of the Quraysh/Mecca to establish justice for all through collective action, even for those who were considered foreign, on the margins without protection. The Prophet spoke highly of this pact and coming together for justice amongst people of all backgrounds before there was Islam, after he became a Prophet, stating:
“I witnessed a pact of justice in the house of Abdullah ibn Jud’an that was more beloved to me than a herd of expensive red camels. If I were called to it now in the time of Islam, I would respond.” In another narration, the Prophet said, “Make such pacts to restore rights to their owners and that no oppressor has strength over the oppressed.”
Apart from the Hilf ul Fudul, and its subsequent praise in which we see the Prophetic example in causes of justice, regardless of faith or difference among those who are striving for justice, which gave a resolve for me when I asked why I should walk, there was also something more reinforcing about the sacredness of walking, especially for migration and travel, within Islam and the Prophetic example.
Walking in and of itself may seem like an ordinary practice which most of us engage in, especially our predecessors due to the lack of technology, yet at the same time, walking was and is a deep spiritual practice, connecting us with the earth and the divine, while putting us through mental, physical, and emotional exertions, yet enabling us to be able to become our better selves, through adversity and through effort. Hajar walked from the land of Canaan to the valley of Bakkah with her infant son in the unforgiving desert heat and climate. So too did the Prophet in seeking refuge in the mountain oasis of Ta’if. As too did the Muslim refugees seeking asylum in the land of Abyssinia. As did the Muslims, including the Prophet, when migrating to the oasis town of Yathrib, over 200 miles away from Mecca. And as did the grandson of the Prophet, Imam Hussein, in walking towards Kufa to take a stand against injustice. Walking was not just something they did or chose to do for survival and for God’s cause; it was something they had to do. And because this was not just a Muslim gathering or cause, or even one which we can draw inspiration and strength for just from the Islamic tradition, we see this sacred practice of walking for a purpose, walking for justice, walking for God, across all traditions. We see in the Gospels that Jesus too, walked for God. We see in Exodus that Moses and the nation of Hebrews walked for freedom. We see that Jacob and Rachel and their family, walk for safety and refuge. Walking in and of itself may seem to be ordinary or something each of us does. But walking becomes something more when we know that we walk for something.
Photo credits: Sabrina Thompson Mitchell of Kuu Productions
So as we departed from Christ Lutheran Church in Georgetown, we continued our journey walking down the side of I-35, an interstate which I would often find myself driving on, yet never once thought that some day I’d be walking the length of my travels on foot, from this point in Georgetown, eventually to the Texas State Capitol over a period of 4 days.
Thus, the first day we walked 9 miles from Christ Lutheran Church in Georgetown to Good Hope Baptist Church in Round Rock, arriving just around 1pm, where we were amply provided for in terms of meals and refreshments, and had the opportunity to fellowship with fellow walkers, including some notable personalities who had joined the walk, such as Beto O’Rourke. We hadn’t been sure of what to expect. Most of us probably didn’t walk 9 miles down the highway in the middle of a Texas day, nor did we know what to expect, but we had made it through the first stretch. And just like that, for the second day, as we walked from Good Hope Baptist Church in Round Rock at 7am to North Austin Muslim Community Center in Austin, walking over another stretch of 9+ miles, this day without as much cloud cover, our resolved continued to grow.
“My feet are tired by my soul is rested.”
And just like that, so too did the second day of walking come to an early close as we walked through the gates of the North Austin Muslim Community Center, feet sore and blistered, drenched in sweat, and under the unforgiving stare of the Texas midday sun, yet not a face without a smile or determination to be found. Just like the Israelites marching upon Jericho, we knew it would take time, we knew we’d have to walk, and we knew that we couldn’t let our heads down. The third day we walked another ~9 miles from the North Austin Muslim Community Center to the University Baptist Church in downtown Austin, adjacent to the University of Texas at Austin campus, where the marching portion of the March for Democracy, had largely come to a close. The next day, on the fourth and final day, we met outside the AFL-CIO building next to the Texas Capitol, and marched around the Texas Capitol before entering through the front gates, culminating with a gathering featuring testimonials from a number of walkers, local leaders, politicians, as well as a musical performance from music legend Willie Nelson. It was lively. It was inspirational. And it was soulful. But then it was over.
4 days and 30+ miles later, it was all over. But the blisters on my feet were still there. The sunburn was still there. I was still there. And so were the issues we had marched for.
The filibuster was still there.
The For the People Act waiting to pass was still there.
The wait to restore the 1965 Voting Rights Act was still there.
The fight for the federal minimum wage to $15 was still there.
And the lack of protections and dignity for all undocumented immigrants was still there.
This walk for me, for my fellow walkers, for the Poor People’s Campaign, as well as for our prophetic predecessors and our respective traditions, was never the end. It was never the accomplishment or the goal itself. Rather, the walk was the beginning. It would be a means to an end. But never the end in and of itself. Walking, sweating, aching, thirsting, tiring, and struggling, regardless of the cause or the reason, is always a part of the process, and as our Islamic tradition teaches us, the harder and more intentional and sincere we walk (or strive) the closer our spirit connects to the Divine.
So although I was intimidated at first by the logistics of the multi-day, 30 mile walk, and spent a lot of time wondering how the likes of the Prophet Muhammad or Hajar could walk for hours on end under the sun without wavering, I came to see that not only did walking for a purpose help, in mitigating the exhaustion, but more so intentionally walking for God and for a cause of God. So wherever we may be, whether in situations of injustice or times of spiritual or personal crisis, in order to make the needle move, prayer is not enough. Prayer is powerful, but it is not enough. As Muslims and people of faith, we are called to walk. We are called to strive. Muhammad walked. Jesus walked. Hajar walked. Mary walked. Moses walked. Hussein walked. And in this walking and striving, they met, and hopefully we too, can meet God. Verily, as God reminds us:
“Allah Almighty says: Whoever comes with a good deed will have the reward of ten like it and even more. Whoever comes with an evil deed will be recompensed for one evil deed like it or they will be forgiven. Whoever draws close to Me by the length of a hand, I will draw close to them by the length of an arm...Whoever comes to Me walking, I will come to them running. Whoever meets Me with enough sins to fill the earth, not associating any partners with Me, I will meet them with as much forgiveness.”
