This article is for R Vani, a Hindu.

Two mornings ago, I was in church. There’s nothing newsworthy about someone attending Christmas service, unless of course he’s Malay in Malaysia. Since I’m Chinese, it’s hardly earth-shattering except that normally you’d not find me in church unless it’s for a wedding.

This occasion however was a friend’s baptism and I’m happy for her. An exuberant tune ‘Joy to the World’ kicked off the service and I sang along. It’s jazzed up nowadays with guitar, keyboard and drums accompaniment compared to the piano-only I remember from my schooldays. I joined too in the spirited singing of another familiar hymn ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’.

Although I know the traditional hymns, the Christian tradition of my school however never made me a member of the faith. Singing praise of Jesus on Christmas does not make me Christian either. And I don’t reckon anyone will see me in church again until the next time a friend or relative invites me to their nuptials.

Yet in apprehension for the fragility of the average Malay’s belief in Islam, Umno leaders and Little Napoleons spout outrageous demands to obliterate the traces of other religions. MP Tuan Syed Hood Syed Edros said in Parliament that “statues [of Virgin Mary] need to be demolished, these crosses need to be destroyed and church influences in these [former mission] schools need to be stopped”.

Prime Minister Abdullah Ahmad Badawi also accused Hindraf of attempting to destroy the country when it is actually his own government that is destroying temples. Things have come to such a pass that I wonder if Islam Hadhari’s moral police will permit a Malay to attend his best friend’s wedding if held in church.

Wearing another’s shoes

One of my favourite songs is Walking in Memphis . Its most moving lines are: “Tell me are you a Christian, child? And I said ‘Ma’am I am tonight’.” What a gracious reply by songwriter Marc Cohn. A generous sentiment such as that informing Cohn’s words would go a long way towards promoting inter-faith relations. If only Muslims here could discard their exclusivist thinking on religious matters.

Walking in Memphis is one of those intimate, narrative songs, recounting the singer’s journey through Memphis, a Southern town known for Elvis pilgrimages and where ‘they’ve got catfish on the table’, ‘gospel in the air’ and ‘Reverend Green be glad to see you when you haven’t got a prayer’.

Cohn had been feeling discouraged and at a low ebb when he encountered Muriel — the elderly, gospel singer mentioned in his Memphis lyrics. She plays piano every Friday at a quintessential Bible Belt café and really did tend to ask folks if they were Christian. Cohn tells in an interview that Muriel sang without a mike, so that to hear her, one had to really listen. “And I was really listening (that night),” he reveals.

During her last set at two in the morning, Muriel asked Cohn to join her onstage. Thereafter Muriel closed a cappella with ‘Amazing Grace’ and Cohn sang the same hymn after her, a cappella too. They were greeted by a momentary hush in the crowd, followed by loud applause.

Cohn says meeting Muriel inspired and helped him get over a difficult patch in his life. From then on, the songs he had always heard in his head began to come out, and Cohn’s debut album containing the sleeper hit Walking in Memphis won him a Grammy for Best New Artist.

The willingness of Cohn, a secular Jew, to listen with his heart and take a walk across cultures gave music lovers a beautiful song. One of the most beautiful books I’ve ever read was also born of a similar openness and deep humanity.

God big enough to share

Siddhartha has been described as “a book that will linger in your mind and spirit for a lifetime”. It’s only a slim volume and I have the English translation. It was originally written in German by Nobel laureate for literature Hermann Hesse. The story is about a Brahmin’s spiritual quest and set in India; historically Siddhartha is, of course, the Buddha.

The fictional Siddhartha of the novel is sensitively imagined and this “shimmering, iridescent” tale is Hesse’s most famous and popular. It was recommended me by a white American and I bought it in a bookshop in the States. Such is the marvel of plurality.

However, the author’s background is equally marvellous. We’re told that Hesse was brought up in a missionary household where it was assumed he would study for the Christian mission. Hesse’s religious crisis at the age of 15 led to his fleeing from a seminary and his own long personal search for self-knowledge.

At age 45, he turned his attention to the East where he had visited several times before, and proceeded to give the world Siddhartha : “Why did Gotama once sit down beneath the bo tree in his greatest hour when he received enlightenment? He had heard a voice, a voice in his own heart which commanded him to seek rest under this tree, and he had not taken recourse to mortification of the flesh, sacrifices, bathings or prayers, eating or drinking, sleeping or dreaming; he had only listened to the voice”.

This voice of our heart should tell Malaysians that God is One even if we do call him by different names. Yet Deputy Internal Security Minister Johari Baharum exhorts, “Only Muslims can use ‘Allah’.”

Should one glorious day the body politic shed its ugly communalism, we might find a Malay crafting a transcendent book in his native tongue and earning international accolades. However if the author should today produce this lovely piece of cross-cultural writing, he may find police reports lodged against him by the likes of Umno MPs such as the Honourables from Parit Sulong and Sri Gading who do not care to have lingering Christian influences (and presumably of other religions too) in this country.

Power of prayer

I’d said this article is for Vani, a young Indian professional. She wrote last month in The People’s Parliament: “I read about the recent temple demolition in Padang Jawa. I come across these incidents pretty often these days and each time my heart bleeds. But this time, I broke down and sobbed my heart out.

“I’m a Hindu. They broke the deities with hammers and flattened the temple with bulldozers. For many, they are just stones but for us, they are our lives. It is where I unburden my problems. It is where I place my hopes. It is where I say a prayer for mankind. Why such vengeance towards us?”

To reciprocate Vani’s “prayer for mankind” let’s pray for her and for all ourselves. Pray that our vengeful local authorities who possess hearts of stone be quarried, and replaced with others who can find compassion in their soul.

Let’s pray that our cabinet ministers gain a more meaningful religiosity than Deputy Rural and Regional Development Minister Zainal Abidin Osman who claims: “Millions [of Indians in Malaysia] are living comfortably. It is as if they are in Nirvana compared to the circumstances in Tamil Nadu.”

Let’s pray that our Muslim brothers and sisters will reject takfir ( kafir-mengkafir ) — the whispering campaign saying Anwar Ibrahim has turned Hindu because of his support for Hindraf, wiser as we now are from bitter lesson. How low will Umno go? Very. They once accused Tengku Razaleigh Hamzah of turning Christian for wearing Kadazan headgear.

Let’s pray for the release of the Hindraf five and the 80-plus others unjustly detained under ISA, half of whom who are alleged to be Islamic militants. Ours is a government that locks up citizens without substantiating its charges.

But on top of prayer, let’s protest. Listen and follow the voice of our heart. It’s our religious duty to dissent against this wrongdoing government.