Duty, child of Privilege

Lining the edge of my desk, next to my Japanese peace lily which needs to be watered, are a number of books I'm in the process of reading. Most of them have titles referencing Islam:"Islam and Mammon," "The Trouble with Islam Today," "The Crisis of Islam," "The Dark Side of Islam," "Secrets of the Koran," "Answering Islam," "The Scripture of Islam," while a few others have exciting names, like Bernard Lewis's "The Assassins" or Bilquis Sheikh's "I Dared to Call Him Father." All of them were written by thoughtful men and women (some Muslim, some Christian, some neither) who felt the need to address and discuss certain historical and spiritual aspects of Muhammad's faith.

I am profiting by their diligence, as well as my privileged position as a literate American with unfettered access to a wide variety of ideas. As a native-born Somalian, Egyptian, Iranian, Malaysian, or Pakistani woman, I would most likely be illiterate. If I did receive an education, my studies would be limited. If I attempted to interact with material intellectually critical of any Islamic teaching (which includes any text that endorses any Christian ideal), I would be in big trouble (beaten or worse). 

I don't want to squander the incredible privileges I've inherited as an American; I don't want to waste the time I've been given. If I do, then perhaps, as in the days of Moses, a generation will arise forgetful of the sweet taste of liberty, and cut off from the words of the Gospel.