Stanks God
When I travel for work I can expense the cab ride to JFK, so I use a local car service. Normally, they are pretty reliable. But when I left my building at 7pm to catch the cab, it wasn't there. I phoned the service and asked them if it was on its way.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Was just about to call you. It should be there in 30 seconds."
I was in a rotten mood but was amused that the cab office would predict an arrival at a half minute's notice.
Sure enough, the cab arrived shortly. Unusually, the cabbie didn't get out to help me with my bag. I liked this, because normally the extra "help" in getting things into the trunk seems unnecessary. But it felt a little cold.
The front seat next to the driver was locked--it was an old style cab with a partition and an interior window, unusual for this company. So I got into the back seat. We started on our way.
"How are you today?" asked the cabbie. He was a big man, early middle aged, with dark skin, a mustache, round glasses, and spoke with a thick accent. I learned later in the conversation that he was Pakistani.
"Terrible, actually."
"Stanks God," said the cabbie. "Stanks God, stanks God, stanks God. When things are bad, remember to say stanks God. It will cover it up. Stanks God."
It was now that I noticed that an ornament with drooping beads and Arabic calligraphy hung from the rear view mirror. I write "stanks" because, though I will be unable to convey his accent and cadence of his voice, that gives some sense of the phonetic distance over which he had traveled. He went on.
"Stanks God. When things are good, stanks God. But when things are bad, also remember to stanks God. It will cover it up. God is great."
My religious strings were plucked. Yes, of course, there was much to be thankful for, how could I forget.
"That's brilliant. Thank God," I said. "God is great."
He was encouraged. He proceeded to spend the rest of the cab ride telling me more about his personal theology. I have no idea how representative it is of Islam--I hope very. He would tell these anecdotes, tell one, then the other, then repeat the first, with different emphasis. He at one point apologized for his poor English but was eager to talk and share his perspective. He never once expressed judgment towards me; he just wanted to teach me about the wisdom of gratitude. Let us presume for the glory of God.
"Pray to God, pray to god. I pray five times a day. I ask for this, I ask for that. I ask I ask I ask. God gives some, he does not give others. Because God is genius"--he put great emphasis on this word--"and he knows what is best for you. You ask, and he gives to you if it is good for you. If not, he holds it back. He says, not yet. It is not good for you."
"Small example. I wanted to get a yellow cab. It's a good business, yellow cab, very good money. I ask God to get me a yellow cab license.But it is very hard to get a license. They say...."--he described, in a way I couldn't follow, the process of not getting a yellow cab license--"but then I started to get back pain. Yellow cab, you have to work very hard in a yellow cab. Now I work in car service. I still have back pain, but not so much. I can drive, then I can relax. It is a good job, car service."
"I ask for yellow cab, God says: no, it is not good for you. God is great. God is genius. He made all this. But you must keep up your demand."
"You must keep up your demand?" I was curious. Katie had once half-convinced me that it was wrong to pray to ask God for favors in life, which was a challenging idea for me at the time but seemed right, or at least more consistently Christian. I was intrigued by the specificity of this aspect of his theology.
"Yes, you must keep up your demand. I pray five times a day. I demand, demand, demand. You must fight God for what you want. He is genius! He says, 'This is my responsibility.' He will give you what is good for you, but you must demand it of him. He wants that. It is his responsibility. If it is good for you now, he will give it to you. If not, he will give it to you in heaven."
I told him my problem and asked him what to do about it. He laughed.
"Well, you have to follow God's order. That is your responsibility. I keep kosher, I pray five times a day. I do this, I do that. You follow God's order, that is your responsibility. You demand from God, and that is his responsibility."
He had pertinent thoughts on business and family.
"Sometimes, you have a good business, have a little money. So you try to grow the business. Maybe it grows, maybe not. God grows it if it is good for you.
A man has a business, he makes money for his family. So he tries to make more money, he grows the business, it is good business, and he gives more money to his family. Then his sons go the wrong way. You see? If he had less business, then he would have less for his family. If he gives more money to his family, then his sons go the wrong way. They spend the money on this, on that. They gamble."
This had happened to his brother, who was a civil engineer back in Pakistan.
At the airport, he did not make any movement to get out of the car, but we said goodbye warmly. He called me "Brother" a few times before he reverted to "Sir."
He asked me if I needed a receipt. I did--so I could charge it to the company--so he handed me some slips of paper. I had gotten my bag out of the trunk and was almost on my way when I noticed that the receipts were forms that were blank, with the car service name at the top. I tapped on the window.
"Don't you need to write something on the receipt?"
"When somebody asks for a receipt, I always give them an open receipt. You can write what you want on it." He grinned wonderfully.
Brilliant, I thought, grinning back. "Thank you, Brother."
Thank God.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Was just about to call you. It should be there in 30 seconds."
I was in a rotten mood but was amused that the cab office would predict an arrival at a half minute's notice.
Sure enough, the cab arrived shortly. Unusually, the cabbie didn't get out to help me with my bag. I liked this, because normally the extra "help" in getting things into the trunk seems unnecessary. But it felt a little cold.
The front seat next to the driver was locked--it was an old style cab with a partition and an interior window, unusual for this company. So I got into the back seat. We started on our way.
"How are you today?" asked the cabbie. He was a big man, early middle aged, with dark skin, a mustache, round glasses, and spoke with a thick accent. I learned later in the conversation that he was Pakistani.
"Terrible, actually."
"Stanks God," said the cabbie. "Stanks God, stanks God, stanks God. When things are bad, remember to say stanks God. It will cover it up. Stanks God."
It was now that I noticed that an ornament with drooping beads and Arabic calligraphy hung from the rear view mirror. I write "stanks" because, though I will be unable to convey his accent and cadence of his voice, that gives some sense of the phonetic distance over which he had traveled. He went on.
"Stanks God. When things are good, stanks God. But when things are bad, also remember to stanks God. It will cover it up. God is great."
My religious strings were plucked. Yes, of course, there was much to be thankful for, how could I forget.
"That's brilliant. Thank God," I said. "God is great."
He was encouraged. He proceeded to spend the rest of the cab ride telling me more about his personal theology. I have no idea how representative it is of Islam--I hope very. He would tell these anecdotes, tell one, then the other, then repeat the first, with different emphasis. He at one point apologized for his poor English but was eager to talk and share his perspective. He never once expressed judgment towards me; he just wanted to teach me about the wisdom of gratitude. Let us presume for the glory of God.
"Pray to God, pray to god. I pray five times a day. I ask for this, I ask for that. I ask I ask I ask. God gives some, he does not give others. Because God is genius"--he put great emphasis on this word--"and he knows what is best for you. You ask, and he gives to you if it is good for you. If not, he holds it back. He says, not yet. It is not good for you."
"Small example. I wanted to get a yellow cab. It's a good business, yellow cab, very good money. I ask God to get me a yellow cab license.But it is very hard to get a license. They say...."--he described, in a way I couldn't follow, the process of not getting a yellow cab license--"but then I started to get back pain. Yellow cab, you have to work very hard in a yellow cab. Now I work in car service. I still have back pain, but not so much. I can drive, then I can relax. It is a good job, car service."
"I ask for yellow cab, God says: no, it is not good for you. God is great. God is genius. He made all this. But you must keep up your demand."
"You must keep up your demand?" I was curious. Katie had once half-convinced me that it was wrong to pray to ask God for favors in life, which was a challenging idea for me at the time but seemed right, or at least more consistently Christian. I was intrigued by the specificity of this aspect of his theology.
"Yes, you must keep up your demand. I pray five times a day. I demand, demand, demand. You must fight God for what you want. He is genius! He says, 'This is my responsibility.' He will give you what is good for you, but you must demand it of him. He wants that. It is his responsibility. If it is good for you now, he will give it to you. If not, he will give it to you in heaven."
I told him my problem and asked him what to do about it. He laughed.
"Well, you have to follow God's order. That is your responsibility. I keep kosher, I pray five times a day. I do this, I do that. You follow God's order, that is your responsibility. You demand from God, and that is his responsibility."
He had pertinent thoughts on business and family.
"Sometimes, you have a good business, have a little money. So you try to grow the business. Maybe it grows, maybe not. God grows it if it is good for you.
A man has a business, he makes money for his family. So he tries to make more money, he grows the business, it is good business, and he gives more money to his family. Then his sons go the wrong way. You see? If he had less business, then he would have less for his family. If he gives more money to his family, then his sons go the wrong way. They spend the money on this, on that. They gamble."
This had happened to his brother, who was a civil engineer back in Pakistan.
At the airport, he did not make any movement to get out of the car, but we said goodbye warmly. He called me "Brother" a few times before he reverted to "Sir."
He asked me if I needed a receipt. I did--so I could charge it to the company--so he handed me some slips of paper. I had gotten my bag out of the trunk and was almost on my way when I noticed that the receipts were forms that were blank, with the car service name at the top. I tapped on the window.
"Don't you need to write something on the receipt?"
"When somebody asks for a receipt, I always give them an open receipt. You can write what you want on it." He grinned wonderfully.
Brilliant, I thought, grinning back. "Thank you, Brother."
Thank God.