Visit to a local mosque

“Visit to a local mosque,” from Vacation in Iraq: My Journey from America to the Muslim World, Brian Becker

It was a Friday when I went to the local mosque in the town of approximately 100,000 people where we live. I was nervous on the way over. It’s funny how you can study Islam, talk about Islam, learn some Arabic, spend time in the West Bank, make some Muslim friends…and still be nervous to go to their place of worship. This said a lot to me about my prejudices, judgments, and fears that have resided in me for so long. God graciously blessed the time at the mosque.

I arrived and there were two people sitting in the shade out front. I arrived at 11:45am, but it turned out the service was not until 1pm (I thought it was at noon). So I had about an hour of free time. I was so blessed that one of the men sitting in front of the mosque is from a small town in the West Bank very close to where I spent time that very month…how amazing is that? Suffice it to say that between having just come back from near his hometown and having learned some basic Arabic, we hit it off. He has been in this country for over 40 years and is in his early 60s. He was living in the West Bank area when the 6-day war occurred in 1967. It was amazing to talk to him about what that was like…how the Israelis ordered the students to leave the schools and go home. He is apparently very involved in the Muslim community here. What a gift to start the visit becoming friends with him. His wife and some of his children are in the Jerusalem area and some of his children are here in the States. He goes back and forth between Israel/West Bank and here.

After visiting for about an hour, it was time to go into the mosque…so to my surprise, he pointed me instead in the direction of the bathroom, which has an outside entrance…and told me I needed to do the ritual washing (wudu in Arabic) before going into the mosque. He gave me basic instructions as to where to wash, in what order, and how many times…but I could not keep track of it. I was glad to oblige and went in the bathroom not remembering what order to wash. Turns out there was a nice man in there who also explained the washings to me and what order to do them in and walked me through it. I explained through these interactions with men at the mosque that day that I am a follower of Jesus and am learning about Islam in a class and learning some Arabic. I wanted to be honest with them about me and why I was there.

I finished washing up and took off my shoes at the entrance to the mosque and went in. The women were being directed to a separate entrance where they would sit at the back of the mosque behind doors/glass. It was like being back in the West Bank as there were many veiled women there.

I was waved up front by the first man I had met outside and sat down next to a man next to him. Turns out the man I sat next to is from Jerusalem and is my age. It was great to talk to him, again having just returned from Jerusalem and Jericho. That combined with knowing some basic Arabic really helped warm up our conversation. He was born three days before the 6-day war started in 1967 between Israel, on the one side, and Syria, Jordan, and Egypt, on the other side. We talked about how sad it is for the wall to be going up around the West Bank...like a prison. We also talked about our families.

Like the Palestinians in the West Bank, the men got a big kick at the mosque out of me introducing myself as “Abu William.”[1] This second man was very kind to help me understand what was taking place during the service (the service was in Arabic and English), including how to fold my hands, when to sit/stand, etc. There were about 75 to 100 men in attendance. Turns out this is a mosque for the larger surrounding area, and there were men in this service from all over the world, including Africa, India, Israel / West Bank, Syria, Egypt, Iraq, Pakistan, Afghanistan, on and on...amazing for a community of this size in a relatively rural part of America. He said there is a mosque about an hour and a half drive from here that is much bigger and has three Friday services that each accommodates about 500 to 600 people. I did not know that.

The service began with the traditional call to prayer in Arabic. They do the call to prayer at this mosque inside of it; my guess is that they are probably not allowed to do the call to prayer outside of the building. During the service, I kept quietly repeating to myself the name of Jesus. I also prayed for my family. I found a lot of comfort in focusing on Jesus amidst the mosque crowd. It was fun to hear the imam (religious leader in Islam, like a preacher in a church) share his message in Arabic and English, alternating back and forth.

Afterwards, there was a big gathering in the parking lot full of festivity as men greeted each other and laughed and caught up on things. People wanted my business card, and I found out that one of the men is learning English. He said he would help me learn Arabic and answer any questions I have about Islam. Talk about answered prayer about someone to practice Arabic with! I was excited to get to know him better as well as the man my age who helped me during the service. It was a fun time in the parking lot as I spoke some basic Arabic with the men. One of them asked me when I converted to Islam, and I explained that I'm a follower of Jesus and am learning Arabic and about Islam. One of the younger guys who was a university student (from Saudi Arabia I later learned) had an American flag shirt on, which some of the other guys got a big kick out of. He responded that, "hey, this is where I live!"

One thing that struck me in the parking lot is how much of a community feel it was as they enjoyed each other's company. I felt bad that American culture is generally so isolated from Muslims and wondered what it would be like for church community or community in general to have open arms to the Muslim community. I don't think I've ever seen a Muslim in the large church we attend that is just down the street from the mosque. So close to each other...but worlds apart.

One major thing that was different than I expected was how welcomed I was at the mosque. I'm glad that I was honest with them that I follow Jesus. It was completely unexpected to be doing the ritual washings before the service. The second man I met at the mosque (inside) told me that a Catholic recently converted to Islam at the mosque…just a couple of weeks ago or so. I was sorry to hear that.

I was excited to return to the mosque for more Friday services. I now had some friends there and was excited to hopefully practice Arabic with some of them. I now also had a basic understanding of how it works there on Friday, which made it a lot easier (and less scary) to return. It can be so hard to go somewhere we are not used to. Just like in the West Bank, once you actually meet people and visit with them, so much of the fear, prejudice, and judgment falls away...Islam as a distant word and world becomes actual people, faces, and friendships. It becomes personal.

I was amazed at the different countries represented in that Friday service. Just amazing. It was also so amazing that there are Palestinians right here who grew up a very short distance from where I had been. God is amazing.

I began learning that Muslims have many rules to follow...ritual washings, motions to go through...and they don't know where they stand with Allah[2] until after they die and find out whether they go to Paradise or Hell. It's amazing how much freedom we have in Christ. I was impressed that day and still am with the reverence that so many of the Muslims have for Allah. It was my pleasure to wash up on their terms and take off my shoes before I went into bow before my God. The visit and new friends were a blessing.