The Bridge On Our Bookshelf

B. and I have a special spot on the bookshelf in our living room.  On one shelf sit our paperbacks pleading with us to be picked up and read.  Two shelves are taken up by our obscenely large DVD collection, which has coincidentally spilled over into the adjacent bookshelf, interrupted only by my wife's tasteful, ever-growing collection of teapots.  The bottom shelf is encumbered with hardcovers and "heavier reading".  B.'s Encyclopedia of Mammals is a prominent anchor to the whole fixture, as are the complete works of Shakespeare, Rowling and Tolkien.

But one shelf is entirely devoid of DVDs or our latest Barnes & Noble indulgence.  This shelf is specially reserved for something both B. and I hold in great reverence and respect.  This shelf is devoted to the cultures, customs and religions we admire and enjoy learning about.  It's an eclectic smattering of artifacts and oddities.  Next to our illustrated copy of the Tao Te Ching is a translated copy of the Quran.  In the shadow of a large bust of a Hindu god rests a miniature figurine of the Buddha.  Nestled next to our Matryoska dolls sits a Bulgarian Orthodox Bible.

Across the room from this shelf, next to our doorway is a mezuzzah, a Jewish wall ornament containing a Hebrew prayer on a small scroll.  We picked it up at the Holocaust Museum in Washington, D.C.  That trip also explains half of our paperback shelf; amidst my Steig Larsson and John LeCarre, B. bought numerous novels on Auschwitz, the Nazi regime and even a copy of Mein Kampf.

We aren't Jewish.  We do however hold Judaism in high regard.  We aren't Muslim, yet we find the devotion and poetry of Islam's teachings moving.  We aren't members of any Slavic Orthodox Church, yet we appreciate the efforts of its members in bringing warmth to a cold part of the world.  We aren't Hindu or Buddhist, yet placing representations of each religion doesn't offend us, it inspires us.

We've had friends jokingly refer to our collection, our "God shelf" as our method of cosmically "covering all our bases."  Hardly.  No one should have a backup belief system.  I just believe in a loving God.  Being Christian shouldn't deter me from admiring the paths others have chosen to come closer to God.  I should emulate the love He feels for all races and creeds.  I love God, therefore I love His creations and should respect their ways. Right?

I recall an instance where a high school friend of mine, a member of another church and certainly a much better person than me, was coming to meet me one Saturday morning for a rehearsal.  She had pulled her car into the lot, put on the brake and then simply stayed there. I approached the car to see if she was all right, and as she opened the door a chorus of small voices faded away in the speakers.  She had been listening to an African chorus worshiping the best way they knew how.

She sat there, visibly moved by the piece.  I stood in awe, as I often was around her, both at the beautiful music and its effects on her as well as the very inspiring image she painted for me, sitting in her front seat.  Here was a woman of one faith in one part of the world refreshed, replenished, inspired, affected, and affirmed by the work of others of another faith in another part of the world.  As if the song built a bridge between our two continents.  A bridge between churches and religions, with God in the middle, urging His creations to act more Godly with each new day.

I doubt she herself remembers this, it was a passing moment, the song ended, she hopped out and we went off to rehearse.  But I've never forgotten the indelible impression it made on my life.  B. and I love other religions, other cultures, strange exotic places and the wonders they hold.  We want to travel.  We want to celebrate the world.

But for now, I'm just happy to build a bridge on our bookshelf.



S