Personal journey towards religious tolerance<\/p>\n
By Mochtar Buchori<\/p>\n
JAKARTA (JP): Christmas, 1943.<\/p>\n
It was for the first time in my life that I attended a
\nChristmas ceremony. It was not mass, just a celebration. This
\nfestivity was organized by Christian and Catholic students.
\nPreparation for this festivity was done under the guidance of
\ntwo teachers, one Catholic, and one Moslem. I was involved in
\nthe preparation of the event. I was a member of the work group
\npreparing the stage and my particular assignment was helping our
\nteacher assemble the lighting system.<\/p>\n
I was then a student at a boarding school for teachers'
\ntraining. Students of this school were originally enrolled at
\nthree different schools: Muhammadiyah, Catholic, and Protestant.
\nThe Japanese occupation brought us together into this one
\nschool, after our original schools were deemed closed.<\/p>\n
I still remember accurately how I felt that evening. It was
\nnot an ordinary feeling, but a feeling that just would not come
\nfrom ordinary life situations. There was a religious atmosphere
\nin the air. I enjoyed the choir immensely. I was more or less
\nfamiliar with the characters and the story enacted in the play,
\nbut somehow it contained new elements and a new message for me.<\/p>\n
I come from a very strict Moslem family, and was brought up in a
\nvery orthodox way. I was never told by my parents or any other
\nmember of my extended family how I should interact with people from
\nother religions. Before coming to this school, I had a strong
\nfeeling of inferiority and equally strong prejudices towards
\nChristians. In my family Christians were considered \"outsiders\", who
\nenjoyed special privileges from the colonial government.<\/p>\n
It was in this inter-religious all male boarding school that my
\nfeelings about religion and religious life slowly changed. I
\nenrolled into this school in January, 1943. Every day, at meal
\ntimes, we were all required to be silent for a few minutes, while my
\nChristian friends said their prayers. I became good friends with one
\nCatholic boy, and he told me what was said for every type of prayer.
\nFrom other Catholic friends I learned how they were educated at
\ntheir previous schools. Very slowly these Christian boys became
\nordinary people to me. Their strangeness disappeared gradually. And
\nwith it my feeling of inferiority and reservation towards them also
\ngradually vanished.<\/p>\n
Christmas 1947.<\/p>\n
It was a time of revolution. Differences in religion did not
\nmatter very much. Moslem, Catholic, Protestant, and Balinese
\nrepublicans fought hand in hand against the Dutch. And collective
\nnarrow escapes from death bound us tightly together.<\/p>\n
First experience<\/p>\n
On Christmas night this year my Catholic friends took me to a
\nmidnight service at a cathedral. That was my first experience of
\nbeing inside a church. I will never forget how I felt that night.
\nThere was a real pipe organ, beautifully played. By this time my
\nunderstanding and appreciation of \"classical music\" had sufficiently
\nmatured. Again, I enjoyed the boys' choir tremendously. To me, that
\nnight, they sounded like angles' voices from heaven.<\/p>\n
After mass was over, everybody congratulated everybody else.
\nEverybody said \"Merry Christmas\". I did the same. I shook hands with
\npeople I did not know, and said \"Merry Christmas\". Somehow it did
\nnot feel strange that I, a Moslem, did these things. I did not feel
\nthat I transgressed any rule of my religion, Islam. I never told my
\nfather about this event. I did not want to hurt his feelings. He was
\naware of my love of music, and he also knew I would go anywhere to
\nsatisfy my thirst for musical enjoyment.<\/p>\n
Christmas 1956.<\/p>\n
I was at a midwestern university in the U.S., writing my master's
\nthesis. An American friend invited me to celebrate Christmas with
\nhis family. I was very touched, and very grateful.<\/p>\n
We went to his family home, and together we went to Christmas
\nmass. It was a Presbyterian church, if I remember correctly. It was
\na very solemn ceremony. Again, the boys' choir was beautiful. My
\nAmerican friend stood next to me, and shared his book of Christmas
\ncarols with me. By then my enjoyment of Christmas songs was genuine.<\/p>\n
I asked myself: Am I not making a mistake? I, a Moslem, being in
\na church, and singing Christmas carols? I knew I wouldn't do these
\nthings back home. It would be improper. But I was at peace with my
\nconscience. I felt religious feelings to be universal in character.
\nI felt that my religious feelings which originated from Islamic
\nteachings could also accept religious expressions generated by
\nChristian civilization. I felt that I had become a different person,
\nand that I would have difficulties in my interactions with fellow
\nMoslems on the campus who came primarily from Iran -- Shah Pahlevi's
\nIran, that was, -- Afghanistan, Palestine, Jordan, Egypt, and Sudan.<\/p>\n
Christmas 1994.<\/p>\n
It was Sunday. I turned on my television, and tuned to CFI. It was
\na live broadcast of a Christmas service in a Paris Cathedral.
\nEverything was in French. I switched to RCTI, and found a live
\nbroadcast of a Christmas service from the Vatican, led by the Pope
\nhimself. The choir was from Warsaw, and there were
\ncomments\/explanations in English and Indonesian. I followed the
\nwhole ceremony. I was carried away by the whole religious
\natmosphere. The choir, the organ; the whole ceremony touched my
\ndeepest emotions, and tears flowed down my face.<\/p>\n
Again I asked myself: Am I not making a mistake? I probed deep
\ninto my conscience. I feel that my feelings in this regard are the
\nproduct of my cultural journey. I feel fortunate that I had the
\nopportunity to make this long cultural journey, and ended up being
\nwhat I am now.<\/p>\n
Oh, God, show me the Way, and protect me from wandering aimlessly
\nin this life!<\/p>\n
The writer is rector of the IKIP-Muhammadiyah Teachers' Training
\nInstitute, Jakarta.<\/p>",
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