What It Means - Day 20

As I've said from the beginning, in this year-long reflection I suspect I'm going to be all over the map.  Essentially, I'm going to be talking about whatever is in my mind when I'm working on the blog; so don't expect any overarching structure other than one individual reflecting upon his faith.  With that in mind I'm posting a picture today that was snapped during the recent student trip to India.  During our time in New Delhi we had arranged a visit to the Jama Masjid, sometimes referred to as the Pearl Mosque, in what would actually be Old Delhi. It is reputed to be the largest mosque in southeast Asia, and I spent a lovely afternoon there years ago during my second visit to India with my father (and my half-sister Annie). They had decided to spend the afternoon resting, but there was no way I was going to waste valuable exploration time so I made my way to the mosque.  Obviously, this was years before I converted.  When I'm overseas, like most people of faith I suppose, I try and spirit away to a local mosque to pray.  I've only actually attended one Friday prayer, however, mainly because of logistics.  My great friend Seif took me to Friday prayer at his mosque in Zanzibar once, which is a memory I'll always cherish.  Of course, it meant that it gave me the opportunity to not understand in two languages instead of simply one.  If you go to a Friday prayer in the US (and you're always welcome to join us at the Islamic Society of Vermont) the sermon would be in a combination of English and Arabic, the latter for when a Quranic passage or a Hadith (the sayings of the Prophet) are being read (usually then followed by the English translation).  In the case in Zanzibar the sermon was a mixture of Swahili and Arabic, two languages of which I have a brutally limited understanding of. When I'm travelling with students I keep these visits very brief and on the down low for any number of reasons, the biggest reason being that we're there on an educational mission and not my own personal spiritual one. I don't share my personal faith with my students because I don't think a teacher should, although if they figure it out on their own I'll happily answer questions as long as they don't take up time from the main point of the class. The students on this India trip knew because most of them had traveled with me before and had noticed it, so there was no reason to pretend it wasn't true.  That said, the non-travel version of the same class (two different versions of my Dar al-Islam class, which is more about themes inside of the Muslim world than a true class on Islam) didn't know.  In this specific case, I want the students to appreciate the subject matter without liking it or hating it simply because they like or hate me. I'm sure at times the 9:30 non-travel course probably thought I was bordering on Islamophobic in my criticism of certain aspects of the faith, whereas my 8:00 travel section just viewed it as the natural criticism of someone living inside the faith. I think a Professor would be much more likely to critique their own faith than another one (at least I would hope). Anyway, during our visit I left the students with the guide for ten minutes and I went inside to pray.  My excellent student Sally surreptitiously snapped this picture, which quickly has become one of my all-time favorites.  After praying I was sitting down talking to the Imam of the mosque.  I like the fact that right behind us a kid was snapping a selfie of him and the strange dude. I'll have more to say about the experience later.

I wish I could say that we were discussing something utterly profound and that the Imam was sharing the secret of the universe, but mainly I think his translator was trying to hit me up for a donation.