What It Means - Day 342

Yesterday was a moving day, and a moving day. As you know the Islamic Society of Vermont recently bought an old Mormon Church and has been converting it into our new home. Our official opening will be 6 March, which, sadly, will be when I'm out of the country on the latest student trip to India.  Yesterday was the biggest moving day and we managed to get most of the things, ranging from the sacred (many, many Qurans) to the secular (pots and pans), from one building to the other. It also ended up being a lovely day full of community.

Late in the afternoon, after the main moving was finished, but also in between prayers, I walked into the new prayer space to grab an extra prayer (which would be my first in the new space; in Islam there are the obligatory prayers, the five prayers, but also the recommended by not required prayers, which would just be extra prayers that you'll often see Muslims carry out before or after the official prayers). One of the other brothers, who I barely know, asked the Imam, who was passing by, if we were going to pray (again, it was in between official prayer times), and the Imam smiled and said yes. So, the Imam went to the front and the other brother and I lined up behind him and we prayed. We were the only three there (this is fairly common during middle of the day prayers during the distracting chaos of day to day life; often the Imam is not there, nor would he ever be required to lead every prayer), and for some reason I found this really emotional and I ended up crying throughout the entire prayer. The last two months have been pretty horrible, and for that matter the last year hasn't been a hell of a lot of fun, but the faith and the community has been incredibly and increasingly important to me. Both the faith and the community came together yesterday at that moment and it sort of floored me, although in a wonderful way.

I've only been a member of the masjid for five years and I still found it a nostalgic day. One of the brothers who has been there since the very beginning told me that in the end you need to put aside the nostalgia when you think of everything that the new space offers, especially for the children, and it's hard to argue with that assertion.

We had a lot of helpers so the move wasn't that bad, although this old safe was more than a bit of a challenge. It was also a reminder that I'm growing older, because in the old days I was always one of the default choices for assigned heavy objects. Happily a couple of the younger brothers were awfully strong and tackled the safe.

For some reason this shot seemed like a metaphor for the entire day: the mihrab, which points the way to the qibla (the direction of Mecca), heading out the door.

The big moving van on its second trip to the new masjid.

And the question of how you're going to work around the qibla has been answered. The prayers were always going to be directed towards this wall?direction, but also any sermons as well. It seems like an obvious answer, but I've also visited mosques where, because of the unique shape of the building, the sermon was delivered up front, and then the Imam would walk to the side wall and everyone would turn. The projector will face to the old front of what was the church for presentations.