As much as I adore words, I am not delusional enough to believe that these strung together letters are powerful enough to convey all of life’s big ideas. We writers try. Sometimes we come close. Often, we fail. Nowhere are words less sufficient than in the realm of the spiritual.

Lately headlines have screamed loudly, bent on convincing us that the world is made up of us and them and that this translates seamlessly to right and wrong. Even the most educated folks seem to be making assumptions about people based on labels, often of the religious variety.

ISIS AND ISLAM: KNOW THE DIFFERENCE

To be perfectly frank, I am appalled at how easily people merge the label “ISIS” with “Islam,” as if they are one and the same. I can tell you that, as a Christian, I would be mortified to be lumped in with any number of extremist groups that fall within the umbrella of Christianity. Throw me in with those who oppress women, practice racial discrimination and justify hate crimes against gays and lesbians, and I would strongly object, as I know most of you would.

So why isn’t everyone up in arms over our Muslim brothers and sisters being maligned by the ISIS label? You may have heard this before, but it bears repeating. An extremely small percentage of the world’s Muslim population recognizes ISIS as having any sort of authority over their lives. In other words, being Muslim does not equate with ISIS affiliation. We need to stop acting as if the two are interchangeable and start acting out of love, rather than from hate or fear. Jesus said, “Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples” (John 13:35). If there is no love, there is no Christianity. Period. There is just an empty label that leaves the world seeing us in ways that will make you cringe.

#NOT IN MY NAME

I am certainly not alone in recognizing the dangers of this rampant stereotyping. The social media campaign #NotInMyName, started by UK Muslims and carried forward by Muslims in many other countries (including the US) sends a message from Muslims to the world that the hate perpetuated by ISIS is not an Islamic statement. It is an extremist statement, as horrible as extremist statements that come out of all religious traditions.

I love the campaign, but it saddens me that we need that campaign at all. That much of the world is so ready to condemn and battle an entire religious spectrum because of the appalling actions of one group. That Muslims feel the need to defend themselves to the rest of us. That the jury of public opinion convicted all of Islam without batting an eye.

TO KNOW IS TO LOVE

The antidote to generalizing is specializing. In this case, that means seeing faces and knowing individuals rather than seeing a faceless mass. It means getting to know Muslims in your midst or remembering all the wonderful Muslims you already know. For me, that means flashing back to evenings spent around the table at Pink Iftar dinner parties, multi-faith gatherings initiated by a group of Muslim women interested in dialoging with women from different religious traditions. I attended two and hosted one at my own home.

It also means looking no further than my son’s soccer coach, one of the most loving, generous individuals I know (Christians included) and one of the biggest influences on my son’s developing sense of self. And to his twins, two of my boy’s best friends. They are sweet, smart and delightful—not the type of boys that I have to be in the right mood to have over (you moms know what I’m talking about!). And, finally, to my dear friend and kindred spirit, Trista Hendren, author of a beautiful children’s book series that is brimming with unbounded divine love—love not restricted by gender, religion or any other self-imposed boundaries.

These people are not token Muslims in my life. They are people who are near and dear to me—and who happen to be Muslim.

GOD BLESS EVERYONE: NO EXCEPTIONS

The sermon I listened to this past Sunday was on oneness. On unity. And it focused on the bond among Christians across the globe and around the corner. We watched beautiful videos of our church’s far-flung mission trips. We marveled at the different styles of worship, both abroad and closer to home within the different worship communities in our own church. It was inspiring and heartening and yet it left me feeling that it was not enough. It was not enough to be filled with a feeling of oneness with those who choose or who were born into the same belief system as I was.

I felt the familiar stifling I’d felt in Christian settings all my life. It was the labeling‚—the Christian and the non-Christian—and I wished for the labels all to vanish. I wished to know one another by our love, not our label. I wished to sing about God, not “our” God, just God. I wished to stop using “he” as the only acceptable divine pronoun. I wished to move beyond it all.

WHAT’S LOVE GOT TO DO WITH IT? EVERYTHING

That is what was going through my head when my family talked about what we’d all taken away from church that day. My husband was telling our son about how love’s connective power was the heart of our message. When he paraphrased John 13:35, reminding him that “they will know we are Christians by our love,” I saw a shadow pass across our son’s face. In that shadow I saw all the same doubts I’d had about Christianity’s claims to be the only way to a God that I knew was so much bigger than any one religion.

My husband must have seen the shadow too because he quickly added that the same love we were talking about was also clearly found in his good friends who are atheist, Muslim and Jewish. I told him what I wish I’d heard as a child—that God sees the love in our hearts and doesn’t give a darn what word we use to describe it or what religious label we stick on it.

Even as a writer, I know that God cannot be contained by words, no matter how lovely, how ancient, how sanctified or canonized. So to those who condemn Muslims in the name of Christianity—from a place of fear rather than love, I say #NotInMyName.