Copyright 2000 Des Moines Register

Reprinted with permission

February 27, 1999 Saturday
SECTION: METRO IOWA; Pg. 4M
HEADLINE: Sikh temple a place of 'belongingness'
By STEPHEN BUTTRY
Register Columnist
It was an opportunity, not a setback, when Des Moines' small Sikh
congregation learned that it could no longer use the hall where it had been
meeting.
For more than 15 years, the Iowa Sikh Association had been without a home of
its own. The group met first in private homes, then in rented halls as it grew.
Last summer, the Sikhs lost their arrangement for monthly services in a
fraternal hall.
It was time to find a permanent home.
"Every month we were looking for a hall," explained Jagtar Singh, president
of the association.
Buying land and building a new temple seemed prohibitive for the group of 20
to 25 families. Last October, the association decided to look for a former
church building it could buy. A small brick building in a residential area of
West Des Moines, the former Kingdom Hall of Jehovah's Witnesses, looked like a
good prospect.
Each family contributed what it could. The congregation appealed to other
Sikhs in other Midwestern cities: Omaha, Kansas City, Waterloo, Milwaukee.
"We just raised the cash," Singh said. "I think everything happened within a
month."
On Dec. 20, the Sikhs paid $90,000, with no mortgage, for the building at
1115 Walnut St.
In Singh's native India, where the faith began some 500 years ago, Sikhs are
a small minority. The nation is dominated by Hindus. The Sikhs, only 2 percent
of the Indian population, are concentrated mostly in the Punjab region of the
north.
In the United States, Sikhs are an even tinier minority, far less than 1
percent.
The faith originated with Guru Nanak Dev, born in Punjab in 1469. He and nine

subsequent gurus who shaped the Sikh (Punjabi for "disciple") faith rejected the
caste system, idol worship and multiple gods and goddesses of Hinduism, as well
as the different treatment of men and women.
Guru Nanak summed up the new faith's focus on a single God: "There is but One
God. His name is Truth. He is the Creator. He fears none. He is without hate. He
never dies."
The sole authority of the faith is in the holy scripture, Guru Granth Sahib,
a collection of inspirational and instructional hymns and poetry.
Sikhism is an egalitarian faith. Any house of worship with the holy
scriptures becomes a temple, as holy as any other temple. Though professional
"priests" lead larger congregations, the faith has no formal clergy or
hierarchy. Any Khalsa (or pure one), an adult who has been initiated into the
faith, can lead worship. Women are regarded as equal to men and can perform any
function in worship or leadership.
"The Sikh faith raised their voice toward inhuman attitudes toward women,"
Singh said.
The Des Moines Sikh congregation has no professional leader. Members of the
congregation lead the worship, singing hymns, reading scriptures and playing the
musical instruments, drums and a harmonium.
The Sikh code of conduct forbids cutting any hair. Men are required to wear a
turban, though some American Sikhs cut their hair or forgo the turban. The
teachings are not inflexible in adapting to foreign cultures. Most American
Sikhs do not wear the Kirpan, a ceremonial sword worn not as a weapon but as a
symbol of dignity and the struggle against injustice.
Singh's turban sometimes draws stares or snickers. When people ask or
comment, he said, "I explain to them that this is what my belief system is and
they kind of accept it."
The Iowa Sikh Association began worshipping Jan. 1 in the new temple,
identified by a sign out front as the Sikh Temple of Iowa. Services are held
weekly now, from 11 a.m. to about 12:30 p.m. on Sundays. A celebration service
for the new temple will be held in April at the time of a worldwide Sikh
observance.
The congregation is renovating, including installing new carpet, an important
feature because Sikhs sit on the floor during worship.
If that sounds different to most Midwesterners, this will sound more
familiar: After worship, the congregation shares a potluck dinner.

"The community is small but the spirits are very high," Singh said. "Everyone
has the feeling of belongingness to the Temple."
GRAPHIC: Singh; President; On the Web; Sikh Faith; * Read more about the Sikh
faith at: www.sikhs.org
Copyright 2000 Des Moines Register
Reprinted with permission
April 3, 1999 Saturday
SECTION: METRO IOWA; Pg. 4M
HEADLINE: Despite divisions, message is the same
By STEPHEN BUTTRY
Register Columnist
In the Air Force chapels where I spent my formative Sundays, the Lord's
Supper was an occasion of reverent commotion.
Protestants of many different backgrounds worshipped together, and the
chapel's Communion service catered to the different traditions of remembering
Jesus' Passover meal with his disciples.
While half of the congregation filed toward the front of the chapel to
receive the sacraments kneeling at a rail, ushers went the opposite direction
down the same aisles to distribute Communion to the rest, sitting in the pews.
It seems odd, looking back. But not as odd as the fact that many of Christ's
followers let their differences in practices and theology prevent them from
sharing together in the Lord's Supper.
At this time of year, divisions in Christianity both soften and sharpen.
Communion, a source of debate since the Reformation, remains an illustration
of how divided Christianity is. Most churches celebrated it in services
Thursday.
The variety in how we observe Communion reflects the many branches of
Christianity. Wine or grape juice. Symbol or substance. Rail or pew. Weekly or
monthly.
Watch the many ways we receive Communion. Some serve one another sitting.
Some kneel at the altar. Some walk to the front of the church to receive it
standing.
The differences aren't necessarily bad. They illustrate how personal faith
can be. Jesus didn't tell us how to observe this feast in remembrance of him. He

just told us to do it and to remember.

Sadly, though, we use this remembrance as a barrier. A major cause of strife
in the Reformation was disagreement over what Jesus meant when he said, "This is
my body."
It's a tragic debate that continues. Like every passage of Scripture, Jesus'
invitation to the Communion feast can mean different things, not only to
different people but at different times to the same person when we read it and
hear it and partake in it again and again.
Instead of encouraging each of us to explore what the remembrance means to us
personally, some Christians go to pains to explain why someone else's
interpretation is less meaningful or even wrong.
Some Protestants liken the Catholic belief that the bread of Communion
actually embodies Christ to cannibalism. Some Catholics dismiss the less literal
view as mere symbolism.
Most sadly, the different views about Communion keep some denominations,
including my Catholic Church, from inviting fellow Christians worshipping with
them to share at the Lord's table.
We sing, "one bread, one body," but we don't live it.
Followers of Christ find greater unity in our observances of the crucifixion
and resurrection.
In smaller towns, it's not uncommon for churches to join for Sunday or
Wednesday night community services during Lent or a community sunrise service
Easter morning. Many communities have interfaith observances on Good Friday.
About 100 Christians of different denominations walked through downtown Des
Moines Friday afternoon, carrying a cross in observance of the crucifixion.
United Methodist, Evangelical Lutheran, American Baptist, Catholic and
Assemblies of God ministers led devotions at the 14 traditional Stations of the
Cross. Despite the varied practices of their home churches and the widely
divergent theological views, they focused reverently on their shared belief in a
common savior.
"We must renew our personal commitment as a faith community," said the Rev.
Duane Gibson, pastor of First Baptist Church.
On Easter morning, we celebrate in our own distinct ways, but the message is
the same.

In the Catholic churches of my adulthood, we sing the same song Easter

morning that I remember from Protestant chapels of my childhood and American
Baptist churches of my youth: "Christ the Lord is risen today, Alleluia!"
-----Reporter Stephen Buttry can be reached at (515) 699-7058 or buttrys
@news.dmreg.com
Copyright 2000 Des Moines Register
Reprinted with permission
March 27, 1999 Saturday
SECTION: METRO IOWA; Pg. 4M
HEADLINE: When religion becomes another cause to kill
By STEPHEN BUTTRY
Register Columnist
As the Rev. Michael Chot Lul visits with fellow Sudanese in Des Moines, he
hears the same plea again and again:
Can you find out where my parents are, whether they are still alive?
"When I go now I go with a lot of letters," said Lul, a member of the Nuer
tribe and president of Nile Theological College, who will return to Sudan next
week after spending a month in Des Moines.
Lul understands the anguish facing the refugees in the growing Sudanese
community here. A generation ago during this civil war with no end, he fled his
homeland to Ethiopia, choosing a refugee camp over conscription into the
guerrilla army.
For a decade, he did not know whether his own parents were alive. "There was
a cut of communication," Lul explained, gesturing with a chopping motion.
Finally in 1974, a decade after he fled, Lul learned that his father had
died. He eventually was reunited with his mother. The tiny village where he grew
up, Uror, has simply vanished.
Raised by two parents in the comfort of middle-class America, I cringed,
inwardly at least, at Lul's matter-of-fact recounting of his own tragic youth.
How many refugees in Des Moines, I asked, have approached him with requests
about their own parents? Lul had long since lost count. "Oh, many," he said,
shaking his head.
As we talked earlier this week, U.S. political and military leaders were

preparing for the airstrikes on Kosovo. The mirror-image stories of Sudan and
Kosovo illustrate how fundamentally violent people are at our core.
Though different faiths call us to rise above our violent nature, too often
we warp religion into just another weapon. Differences in how we worship become
a cause to kill, rolled together with ethnic rivalries, territorial disputes,
ideology, greed, ambition and every other sword we use to divide and kill.
In Kosovo, Christian Serbs are slaughtering Muslim Albanians in the latest
atrocities of a conflict that goes back more than six centuries. In Sudan,
Muslim Arabs of the north are slaughtering the Nuer and other African tribes of
the south, mostly animists and Christians, in a civil war that has waged more on
than off for the past four decades, going on five.
Whatever the purported faith of the aggressors, the result is the same:
deaths by the thousands, villages destroyed, hordes of refugees forced to flee
their homelands, wondering if they will ever see their loved ones.
Somehow, in spite of genocide and guerrillas and bombs and hatred, faith
perseveres. Not just the twisted, arrogant beliefs that use God to justify
carnage. But true faith. Persecuted people praying in the face of danger and
death.
In war-torn villages of southern Sudan, those that haven't been abandoned or
destroyed, Christians without a church or a pastor gather under a tree to pray,
Lul said.
For baptisms, they have to find a pastor elsewhere in the region. In 1991,
Sudanese Christians opened a seminary to educate more native pastors.
Nile Theological College opened in the north, in the capital city of
Khartoum. Though most of Sudan's Christians live in the south, Khartoum was a
better location for the seminary. The harassment it faces there from the Islamic
government is preferable to the war in the south.
"The whole south is devastated," Lul said. "Many of them ran to Ethiopia and
came here." Lul, 47, became a Christian in 1959 at a missionary school. Educated
at seminaries in Kenya and Atlanta, he eventually became president of the
seminary.
Lul has spent most of March in Des Moines, visiting Presbyterian churches on
an exchange program, learning about American churches. He can talk knowledgeably
about such American concerns as declining membership, the changing role of the
laity and involving youth in the church.
Those challenges pale against the struggle for survival that Lul has seen.

"Most of our Nuer villages are devastated," he said. "That's why you don't
know where your family is."
-----Reporter Stephen Buttry can be reached at (515) 699-7058 or buttrys
@news.dmreg.com
Two talks on Sunday
* The Rev. Michael Chot Lul will preach at 9:30 a.m. Sunday at Fort Des
Moines Presbyterian Church, Payton Avenue and South Union Street in Des Moines,
and at noon Sunday and at the Nuer worship service at Cottage Grove Presbyterian
Church, 1050 24th St. in Des Moines.
Copyright 2000 Des Moines Register
Reprinted with permission
May 22, 1999 Saturday
SECTION: METRO IOWA; Pg. 4M
HEADLINE: Christians, Muslims meet, listen and learn
By Stephen Buttry
Register Columnist
Cliches are the bane of the proud writer, but I couldn't help myself. They
were nearly whispering in my ear as I listened to the handful of Muslims and
Christians talking around the table:
It is better to light one candle than to curse the darkness. Let there be
peace on Earth and let it begin with me. A journey of a thousand miles begins
with a single step.
It's barely a single step, a lone candle, but the gathering around the table
felt worthy of a glowing cliche.
Christians have continued to kill Muslims in Kosovo since this group began
meeting in early April. Muslims continue persecuting Christians in Sudan. In
Iran, Afghanistan and too often here in the United States, the people of these
two worldwide religions remain in conflict. It's as if the Crusades never really
ended.
But around this table in Des Moines, people of good will are listening and
learning.
"It's surprising, at least from the Christian perspective, to see how much
similarity there is between Islam and Christianity," says Susan Myers,

coordinator of the Iowa Peace Network.

Myers organized the meetings, scheduling five sessions running every two
weeks. The fourth meeting was this week. The group will gather June 1 for dinner
and more discussion. A sixth meeting has been scheduled for June 29.
Other organizations and congregations should consider sponsoring similar
meetings to increase understanding of different faiths and even to start
communication among estranged branches of Christianity.
The group organized by Myers is studying and discussing the book "A Muslim
and a Christian in Dialogue" by Badru D. Kateregga and David W. Shenk. Talk
invariably starts with the text but shifts quickly to personal questions and
beliefs.
Perhaps in the spirit of peace that inspired the meetings, talk focuses
heavily on shared beliefs:
"There is no difference about the morals," says Fayiz Abusharkh, a Muslim.
"Honesty is honesty. Lying is lying. The same."
Both faiths place great importance on the life and teachings of Jesus. "We
believe Jesus will come back to the Earth," says Mohammed Shams, president of
the Islamic Center of Des Moines. "He will spread justice on the Earth."
That statement prompts Paul Martin, a retired Mennonite minister, to extend
his hand to Shams after the meeting, saying, "We have something to shake on:
Jesus is coming again."
The dialogue has attracted a small group, varying from eight to 16. As many
as six Muslims have participated, joining Christians from Quaker, Mennonite,
Brethren, Presbyterian, Baptist and Catholic churches, plus a Baha'i.
Both groups acknowledge that people using the name of their religion have
committed grave sins throughout the world. "You see a group of people act badly,
that's not Islam," Shams says.
The group discusses differences in beliefs as well as common ground. The
differences aren't necessarily covered in depth, but always with respect and
civility.
The group has talked about teachings on women, original sin, drinking, holy
books and whether Christ was savior or prophet.
The nature of God provides a point on which the groups find both shared and
divergent views. Both groups see God as close, omniscient and powerful.

Mohammad Smidi has trouble reconciling that view of God with the Christian
image of God suffering over the sins of his people.
"That to me is a very important part of what Christianity is all about," says
Larry Anderson, a Presbyterian from Newton. "It contradicts the view of God as
being aloof and impassive."
The Christian doctrine of the Trinity is puzzling for the Muslims, whose
primary belief is that there is but one God. The Christians try to explain the
view of Father, Son and Holy Spirit as different ways in which a sole God
reveals himself to people.
The Muslims educate their Christian friends on the pronunciation of Allah
(accent on the second syllable) but assure them that God will do fine. Allah is
Arabic for God, and besides, the Muslims have 99 names for him.
"However you call it," Myers says, drawing a meeting to a close, "I feel like
God has been present here."
Reporter Stephen Buttry can be reached at (515) 699-7058 or buttrys
@news.dmreg.com
Copyright 2000 Des Moines Register
Reprinted with permission
August 7, 1999 Saturday
SECTION: METRO IOWA; Pg. 4M
HEADLINE: Churches ring with familiar praise sung in new tongues
By STEPHEN BUTTRY
Register Columnist
In the clamor of voices raised in song and praise, there are no accents, no
foreign tongues, for each voice is the voice of the Holy Spirit.
"Everybody testify you are good," sing the worshippers over and over, dozens
of times. "You are good, Jehovah. You are good."
Rose Kimani, wearing a bright yellow robe and headdress, leads a few choruses
in Swahili, then it's back to English.
Accompanied by guitar, keyboard, African drums, tambourine and gourds, the
voices and the spirit fill the Blue Chapel at First Assembly of God in Des
Moines.
They have come from Nigeria, Liberia, Ghana, Kenya, Tanzania, Zimbabwe and

South Africa.
Like the Danish, Irish, Dutch, Swedish and Asian immigrants who preceded them
to Iowa, and like the generations of Africans who came in captivity to America,
these newcomers find kindred spirits in worshipping with others of their own
culture.
Following Jesus' command, several established traditionally white churches
have welcomed African strangers into their midst.
Some have blended into the main congregation. "Our 9:30 Sunday Mass is like
the United Nations," said the Rev. James Kiernan, pastor at St. Ambrose
Cathedral downtown.
The Catholic congregation includes 97 Sudanese people, in addition to
Vietnamese, Hmong, Laotians and Americans of European descent. Various native
languages are used in the readings and music.
In other churches, Africans thrive as a church within a church. Supported by
and welcome in the larger assembly, the Africans are more comfortable
worshipping in their own style and in some cases their own language.
"We take a long service, about three hours," explained Simon Yiech, a deacon
who leads 11:30 a.m. Sunday services in the Nuer language for the Sudanese
congregation of more than 100 people at Trinity Lutheran Church. "We have so
many songs. We take time greeting people."
Trinity also has Lao services at 11:30 a.m. Worshippers from Nigeria and
Sierra Leone attend the English services because they don't speak Nuer. To
emphasize unity, Trinity has a monthly tri-lingual Communion service.
African and American-born members of Trinity work together on mission teams
visiting Southern Sudan and refugee camps in neighboring Ethiopia and Kenya.
"Our people are in camps," said Yiech, who came to Iowa five years ago. "We need
to take the word of God to them."
Evangelical Covenant Church, Our Saviour Lutheran Church and Cottage Grove
Presbyterian Church also have services in Nuer. A Sudanese pastor will join the
Cottage Grove staff this month, leading services for about 40 families. Sudanese
Pastor Bol Tap leads services for about 10 families at Evangelical Covenant.
While several churches have strong ministries for Sudanese refugees, Des
Moines' largest population of recent African immigrants, other African nations
are represented in smaller numbers throughout the community.
First Assembly, which has African-American, Asian and Hispanic congregations,

"saw there was a need to minister to the Africans who were coming into the
community," said Pastor Isaac Oyibo, a Nigerian who came to Iowa a decade ago.
The African Church started earlier this year at First Assembly has a Bible
study on Fridays and prayer meetings on Tuesdays, 11 a.m. Sunday services and
occasional celebrations of African culture. With a blend of native languages,
preaching is in English, but other languages are used for some songs and
spontaneous prayer.
I attended one night of a four-day African revival last month with guest
evangelist Fubara Ibama from Nigeria.
Ibama and Oyibo preached and prayed with passion and the people sang, danced,
clapped and swayed with boundless energy. Ibama said God had told him the chapel
needed microphones and a sound system, so he raised $1,234 in cash, checks and
pledges in an impromptu offering.
The preacher himself needed no amplification. His thundering voice filled the
small chapel, clenched fists trembling as he proclaimed the word: "In the
presence of God there is fullness of joy."
-----Reporter Stephen Buttry can be reached at (515) 699-7058 or buttrys
@news.dmreg.com
On the Web
Read more on the Internet:
www.dsm1ag.org
www.ioweb.com/trinity/home.html
Copyright 2000 Des Moines Register
Reprinted with permission
February 26, 2000 Saturday
SECTION: METRO IOWA; Pg. 4B
HEADLINE: Exact numbers are murky, but growing diversity is clear
By STEPHEN BUTTRY
Register Columnist
Muslims are more plentiful than Presbyterians in the United States.
Harvard University scholar Diana Eck made that observation in an essay in the
2000 edition of the "Yearbook of American & Canadian Churches."

As the 21st century opens, Eck wrote, " 'We the people' of the United States
are more religiously diverse than ever before."
Past editions of the yearbook, published by the National Council of the
Churches of Christ in the USA, have provided statistical and directory
information about churches and other Christian groups. Increasingly, that has
meant the book provided an incomplete picture of religion in our country.
This year's edition, subtitled "Religious Pluralism in the New Millennium,"
addresses that weakness. The new yearbook provides directory information for
major organizations of the Baha'i, Buddhist, Hindu, Islamic, Jain, Jewish and
Sikh faiths as well as groups promoting Native American traditional
spirituality. Maps show how mosques and Buddhist temples have spread across the
nation, including into Iowa.
Eck's comparison of the Muslim population to other groups (more than twice as
many as Episcopalians and about as plentiful as Jews) is a bit ironic, because
that is the only place in the yearbook that you find a figure estimating the
membership of a non-Christian faith. She cites an estimate of 5 million to 6
million Muslims nationwide.
A spokeswoman said figures for non-Christian faiths were not included because
they are difficult to obtain. Some of the groups themselves don't have numbers,
and the estimates are sometimes unreliable.
That also is true of statistics provided by Christian organizations, and the
yearbook provides page after page of those. The Christian statistics show how
hard it is to quantify the growing diversity of faiths in our nation.
Counting heads, of course, isn't the primary mission of any congregation or
religious organization. And people who can't agree about whom and how to worship
aren't about to agree on how and how often to count heads.
Of the 20 largest Christian denominations, six have membership statistics in
the 2000 yearbook from 1996 or earlier. The National Baptist Convention of
America, ranked ninth largest at 3.5 million, hasn't updated its figures for the
yearbook since 1987.
Even for denominations that report recent figures, they aren't necessarily
comparable. Beyond any deliberate exaggerations or honest errors in counting the
faithful and updating the books, churches count members differently.
For instance, Catholics (62 million) and Southern Baptists (almost 16
million) are the largest two denominations, but they count their members
differently. Catholics baptize infants and count them among the membership.

Southern Baptists are older when they join the flock.

Many churches include people in their membership who once joined but now show
up only for Christmas and Easter, if then. Other churches purge their books
regularly because payments to denominational headquarters are based on
membership. Some denominations don't emphasize membership, so they have more
people in the pews than on their books.
For instance, the Assemblies of God ranks 11th in membership at 2.5 million
nationally. The Evangelical Lutheran Church in America ranks sixth at 5.2
million. A closer look, though, shows the positions might be reversed if you
consider attendance. Average attendance at Iowa churches of the Assemblies of
God is three-fourths higher than membership. At 26 Evangelical Lutheran churches
in the Des Moines area, average attendance is about one-third of membership.
Furthermore, denominational totals can't possibly reflect the growth of
nondenominational churches, the extent of church-hopping and church-shopping,
the people with cultural identification to a faith they no longer practice, the
people who draw from the teachings of various faiths as they explore their
personal spirituality.
Numbers can be interesting, but in one sense at least, they are irrelevant.
Our Constitution guarantees religious freedom to every church, every temple,
every mosque, every individual who utters a prayer.
"The founders unquestionably did not have Buddhism or the Santeria tradition
in mind," Eck wrote. "But the principles they articulated have provided a sturdy
rudder through the past two centuries as our religious diversity has expanded.
Step by step, we are beginning to claim and affirm what the framers of the
Constitution did not imagine, but equipped us to embrace."
-----Reporter Stephen Buttry can be reached at (515) 699-7058 or buttrys
@news.dmreg.com