By Jacob Schmedeke
Lamp Writer
Springfield – As I arrived at the mosque, I was running behind as usual. Coming from a Lil’ Wayne concert the night before at the University of Illinois, the drive from Champaign to Springfield gave me time to recuperate. With the hangover subsiding, I was ready to experience a Friday noon prayer at the Islamic Society of Greater Springfield’s mosque once again. This would be the second time attending in a year with fellow students and my teacher Tim McKenzie, assistant professor of journalism and humanities.
I was behind my schedule, but luckily, I was not late for the call to prayer, which is one of the the most hypnotic, yet beautiful things, I have ever heard. It is exactly as it sounds, a call to prayer, called out five times a day to let all Muslims know that it’s time to come to the mosque – or set up where they can – and pray.
What struck me this time though when I heard it was that the muezzin, the person who sang the call, was a 6-foot-3 Irishman with his beard and plaid shirt resembling a lumberjack. He had a male hijab thrown over his regular clothes and had his head covered. I was expecting or I guess assuming it would be the imam or a Middle Easterner. Yet this man had an incredible voice, which turns out to be the only qualification one needs – other than being Muslim.
The first time I heard it, I couldn’t help but listen in awe. This time, I did the same, but my mind kept wandering – picturing Rafiki holding Simba up in the air while “The Circle of Life” played and all the animals went to Pride Rock. In fact, I couldn’t help but think Disney ripped off the Muslims a bit.
The people were all very kind to the students and to one another during each visit. The first visit, I prayed with them, and I felt as if they accepted me. I had no idea what I was doing and must say it was a once in the lifetime experience for an atheist to pray in the middle of more than 100 Muslims. While in the middle of all these people, I chose to listen to the people around me who were intently praying in many different languages. The focus and meaningfulness in their voices while praying was incredible.
After praying, you finish by saying something in Arabic to the person on both sides of you, to which I had no clue what to say. I just smiled and said, “You, too.” The young kid smiled while the older man looked a bit disappointed in me.
I looked it up and Muslims say “Salaam Alaikum” to one another, meaning “peace be unto you.”
After and before prayer people talk and mess around just like Christians do before and after church.
The second visit, I watched from the back. Getting a sense of the room and the people. What stood out to me most was the focus and intensity in the room. Sitting shoulder to shoulder on the floor, and when I say shoulder to shoulder I don’t mean it as a figure of speech. Countless times I thought, “Well that’s it. No more can fit.” Then another person would come in, weave his way through, tap a few shoulders, exchange a few smiles and sit bumper to bumper, so to speak, with everyone.
The children were incredibly behaved. All reciting and doing the poses for prayer in unison with everyone else. Not one was goofing around or had to be told to stop it. This goes from a young girl who couldn’t have been more older than 2 up to teenagers.
After prayer the second time, I stood up with the rest of the people to talk. I must have stood up way too fast because I swear I saw a Muslim Barry Sanders weave through about 15 Muslims to get the attention and then embrace who I thought was Kurt Cobain. This image of a Muslim man in a suit making such an effort to talk to and embrace a grungy, white male stuck with me.
There sermons were not extremely long. About an hour altogether, containing quite a bit of Arabic. Both speakers spoke of the Quran and then related it to how the people could use it to help themselves in life.
The Mosque is a gathering place where people come not just to pray, but to assemble, which I was graciously told the difference by Ahmed Rehab. When you gather wood, you have just that, gathered wood. When you assemble something, you are taking lesser parts to make something that is greater with them. That is why we assemble, he said. To make the community better as a whole through each of us.
After listening to Ahmed and having been to their services twice, I can attest that they are no different than you and I. They are God-fearing people who get up every day and try their best. In fact, their religion requires them to do their best.
There are extremists to any religion, some of whom are more extreme than others. But don’t let the outliers deter you from the 1.6 billion people in this world who are Muslim. I was treated with respect, kindness, generosity and always with a smile by any Muslim I met there.
They talk about helping each other and the community, being strong through difficult times of oppression and hate crimes towards them. How to not fight back physically but to turn the other cheek and educate people on Islam.
Both men, the imam and Ahmed, urged his people to get out and try and educate and let people see and get to know them. People fear what they do not know or think they know from TV, Ahmed said. These men wanted their people to take the first step towards peace, even if a step of hatred had been taken against them.
Jacob Schmedeke can be reached at lamp@llcc.edu.
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