My Experience at the Mosque

I have a new appreciation of what it feels like for someone like Hemant with no experience attending a Christian Church to walk into that environment for the first time.

On Saturday afternoon I drove into the parking lot of the Baitus Samee Mosque in Houston, an invited guest of the Ahmadiyya Muslim Association, to participate in a symposium on the topic “The Existence of God and Human Suffering”.

I’ve never been in a mosque before.

I was not concerned for my safety, unlike those among my acquaintances who learned of my invitation and suggested a bullet proof vest (only half-joking, I suspect). Through my conversations with my host, Shahed, and my reading on the Ahmadiyya website, I knew that this muslim community, which is spread across 178 nations, utterly rejects violence and terrorism, recognizing that “jihad” as a word that refers to the individual’s inner struggle to live out a life that honors Allah.

My main concerns were that I would not unintentionally offend my hosts through my ignorance of their customs. I needed not be concerned. They were more than helpful and welcoming – truly delightful and friendly people who showed me where shoes could be placed during the symposium (since they are not worn in the mosque). Many of the 35 or so men present were quick to come forward and welcome me – the genders are separated in the mosque, so there were no women present in the seminar. The women were holding their own seminar on the other side of the wall. Even in the fellowship time which followed the women were separated from the men.

The program began with “a recitation of the Holy Qur’an”. If there was an element in the service that had me on pins and needles, this was it. What would I experience?

The Qur’an is always read in Arabic, and so one man came forward to read. I could not be absolutely clear on whether he was singing, or whether the rising and falling tones are reflective of the tonal nature of the Arabic language. The only experience I could compare it to was hearing the Qur’an read over loudspeakers in Iran or Iraq, such as one sometimes hears on a television news program.

The reading was followed by a translation in English – certainly for guests like me, but I wondered if it was also for those whose Arabic is rusty.

Next were three 15 minute addresses by the three speakers – first the jewish guest, then myself, then the muslim speaker.

In my presentation, I was eager to observe a careful balance. On the one hand, I had been invited to speak on the assigned topic from a Christian perspective. I also wanted to faithfully represent the message of biblical Christian faith. On the other hand, I was a guest, and did not want to communicate in a manner that would offend my hosts. I think that I effectively hit the mark.

The next 30 minutes was a time of question and answer. The moderator requested that all questions be directed to all three panelists so that each of us could answer, so that was the way the afternoon flowed on.

However, when the moderator said there was time for one more question, a man rose to the microphone and said “I have a question I would like to direct only to Rick: You said in your presentation that the sufferings of Christ could alleviate the sufferings of humanity, and I am not clear how that could happen. Could you explain your meaning please?”

For me, this was a wonderful moment, for it seemed to me that I was being invited by my hosts to be more specific in describing the nature of my faith as a Christ-follower. And so I took several minutes to answer the concluding question.

The last thing that occurred before the symposium concluded was a brief 5 minutes by a man identified as a muslim missionary. I did not have the feeling that his brief message contributed anything of substance to the words that had been spoken already.

After the symposium, many people came forward to graciously thank me and express appreciation for the content of my talk. One man said that he’d had many questions about Christianity, and I had managed to answer several of them. I was grateful. My secondary goal in being there was to help the listeners to learn and understand the day’s topic from a Christian perspective. I am grateful that this goal was met.

My primary goal had been to learn, and I certainly learned, from both the jewish and muslim people I encountered. I was struck by how similarly we approached the topic, and several times in the Q&A, I responded and then one of my fellow panelists said “I was going to say the same thing Rick said”.

(If I had a third goal, it was to enjoy a very different, cross-cultural cuisine in the time of refreshments that followed. Alas, I might as well have been at a Texas Baptist pot luck: there was fried chicken, cole slaw, pasta salad, pizza and Coke. However, there were two desserts that were culturally distinct, and they were wonderful!)

One last word: I thought of you, my acquaintances at OTM, as I went through this experience – and particularly thought of my brother Tom, who like me is characterized by a love for the unfamiliar or cross-cultural. Eat your heart out, Bro!

(This review was originally published by me at the "Ebay Atheist" website, sponsored by Off-the-Map. The site has evolved into a place of dialogue between Christians and atheists. At that site there are 18 replies, a couple of which are elaborations by me. read them here...)