The shooting at a West Philadelphia Eid al-Fitr event is another symptom of America’s spiritual malaise

This week, at a crowded festival marking the end of Ramadan, the holiest month on the Islamic calendar, a beautiful spring afternoon was interrupted as bullets filled the air near the Philadelphia Masjid.

At least 30 shots rang out near 47th and Girard, at an Eid al-Fitr event where an estimated 1,000 people were in attendance. The event, which was held to mark the end of a month of fasting and prayer for Muslims, instead marked a moment of horror. The faithful were sent scrambling for safety. Peace disintegrated into chaos. An atmosphere that should have been reverent and reflective devolved into blood and panic.

In a conflict that police said involved two rival groups, a 22-year-old man was shot in the stomach, while a juvenile went to the hospital with a gunshot wound to his hand. A child was hit by a police vehicle, fracturing her leg. And, according to police, an officer on the scene shot an armed 15-year-old male, then arrested him and transported him to a hospital. Police said they also arrested three males and a female who were running from the scene with guns.

In the coming days, some will seek to blame the chaos on the Muslim faith. I won’t, because I don’t believe America’s spiritual malaise, and the resultant violence, is about any particular faith. Rather, I think Philadelphia’s shooting epidemic is about a lack of faith, and our collective refusal to respect that which is spiritual.

In 2021, the Pew Research Center surveyed the religious composition of the United States. It found that the share of Americans with no religious affiliation was 6 percentage points higher than it was five years before, and 10 points higher than it was in 1991. According to the Pew report, “about three-in-ten U.S. adults (29 percent) are religious ‘nones’ — people who describe themselves as atheists, agnostics or ‘nothing in particular’ when asked about their religious identity.”

But when researchers drilled down further, they found that Americans who practiced religion were less engaged in prayer, less committed to worship, and more loosely bound to spiritual belief systems than those who answered previous surveys. In essence, the survey indicated that in America, spirituality has become an option rather than a necessity.

That should surprise no one. In a world where ties to our phones often hold more significance than our spiritual connections, many Americans no longer respect places of worship, and they show it in deadly ways.

In 2015, Dylann Roof, a member of a Lutheran congregation, walked into Emanuel AME Church in South Carolina, sat through a Bible study, and killed nine people in a violent attempt to advance white supremacy. In 2018, Robert Bowers, who also espoused Christian beliefs, entered a Pittsburgh synagogue and killed 11 people. In the moments before their crimes, I wonder if either man considered their faith.

That’s the question I’m asking as I contemplate what happened at the Islamic festival. I’m wondering if the shooters on either side of the conflict proclaimed to be Muslim, and if so, what did that mean for them? What does faith mean for any of us?

As a licensed Baptist minister, I am at a disadvantage when it comes to knowing the intricacies of Islam. I know there are certain dietary restrictions. I know that in Islam, as in any religion, faith is an internal decision that affects one’s outward actions. But more than that, I know that in the Arabic language, the word Muslim means “one who submits to God.” That principle of submission to God’s will is also a key element of my faith.

In whom do we believe? In what do we trust?

But in a country where so-called people of faith use violence in holy places, to what are we submitting? In whom do we believe? In what do we trust? Sadly, I think we trust in our most selfish desires, rather than submitting to what is right.

Perhaps, in turning away from religion, America has turned toward violence. Or maybe, if believers actually practice what we preach, our faith might keep chaos at bay.