Embracing Islam Part 1

It was about fifteen years ago I guess. We had been almost two hours watching the film Malcolm X. My friend touched my shoulder and indicated that she was going out for a smoke. How could she do it? A heavy smoker myself, there was no way I could tear myself away from this. I was utterly impressed with this individual portrayed here on the big screen. He had discovered something better than he had before and realised he had been wrong. And he admitted it publicly, humbly. And he changed. What enabled a man or a woman to be able to do this?

The film soared toward it's conclusion. I hardly noticed my friend's return. My all time favourite song just happened to accompany the final montage, "Change is Gonna Come" by Sam Cooke. The camera swooped down into the big city backstreets. It surveyed the street-side sights on it's way to the end of the story. Beside an abandoned building a woman kneels down before a man and begins to unbuckle his belt. You assume, of course, that commerce is about to take place. My mind's eye flashes back to an earlier scene; Brother Malcolm kneels before his Lord in an enormous and deserted mosque, a slave only to the One. He meets his death in that state insha Allah.

At the end of the picture I do not want to stand and applaud, but to drop to my own knees in the aisle, in reverence before I knew not quite what.