Extreme Religion!

Editor's Note: Commedienne Pam Stone writes her column for The Tryon Daily Bulletin twice each month from her office in the "Unabomber Shack" on her Gowensville farm. Want a chance to respond to this column? Go to Pam’s blog at www.tryondailybulletin.com.

Well, why not? We have extreme snow-boarding, cycling, and, really, religion's been extreme for years. The Crusades, The "Troubles" in Northern Ireland, Henry's split with the Pope, fifty thousand Huguenots slaughtered in France, Eric Rudolph blowing up family planning clinics, Olympic Park (all of these come under the heading of Christian examples, by the way), and now, most recently, Islamic fundamentalist extremists. Different religions, same approach: "You do not agree with me? Then I kill you all. Now, let us pray." It's almost comedic if not so mortifying. Each generation witnesses horror. I suppose it's our turn...

And yet we continue, in our own, personal, ways, to follow. Whether it be to twice Sunday services, a Wednesday evening Bible study, praying five times daily (now that is self discipline. I usually only get half way through the Lord's Prayer before dozing off...) to Allah, plugging through Hebrew classes in the fifth grade... we're all searching, we're all seeking comfort and guidance.

Suddenly, there's another newsflash: the latest image of the Virgin Mary has been seen under an overpass. That is an improvement since the image before that was a cheese sandwich and, before that, on a screen door. I can't tell you how happy I am when I read these items in the paper. It stops me dead in my tracks before I can fall prey to bigotry and point a finger at Islam and say, "These people are maniacs."
Because the overwhelming majority are not and it's heartening to see the moderates speak up against those that continue to pursue murder and mayhem. I reflect upon my Muslim uncle (a most mild and charming man) and the waiter in Las Vegas who, after several return engagements, became my friend as he was always working the late shift that I took advantage of after a show. I am always ravenous after a show. And it's got to be scrambled eggs with cheese and raisin toast. Don't ask me why. It's the only time I eat it, ever.

Mohammed and I discuss politics between decaf refills or when it's slow on the floor and he has a chance to talk. He shows me where he is able to commit to his praying, in a tiny alcove that houses the coffee machine and silverware. His prayer rug is rolled up and leans against the wall behind the door. It is touching. He is so spiritually evolved and intellectual that it is a constant challenge to keep up with him. What I can confirm is that his message is peace. Always. That what must be chosen is the ballot, not the bullet, and everyone in every country has a moral obligation to closely follow foreign policy and witness how it affects the world.
I haven't seen Mohammed in a couple of years. I don't even know if he still waits tables at Harrahs. I've been mostly home doing my radio job and teaching dressage.
When breaking news shows another day of indiscriminate violence and bloodshed, I do send a fleeting thought his way and on Sundays, as I dress for church, my eyes linger over the delicate bracelet that he gave me as a gift when he returned from a trip to Egypt with his children. I had crumpled into the chair at my usual table, bleary eyed after performing three shows on a Saturday night to packed houses of people who had just lost their kids' college funds at the Craps Table, when he approached me with a tiny parcel. "I am so glad to see you again!" he said, placing the box next to my dinner plate. "I saw this on my visit and thought you would like it."

The bracelet is thin and plain with the exception of the engravings of the symbols of Christianity, Islam and Judaism, all entwined. It's not real silver and it was probably around five bucks. But it is one of the most valuable things I own.

So when we all watched the recent, frightening, news of two London Mercedes, laden with bombs and the same people trying in vain to ram the Jeep Cherokee through the Glasgow Airport doors, I thought, "Well, Mohammed, we pray different prayers but I know both our prayers were answered."

Because both terrorist attempts were largely unsuccessful.

There is reason to rejoice.