Row Formation

Just got back from Taraweeh...it was really nice and made me excited about Ramadan.

Since moving to the DC-area, for the first time in my life, I actually have a choice about which masjid to go to. This may not seem like a big deal to y'all big city folks, but having grown up in a place where going to the only masjid meant a 35+ minute drive, this is huge.

Last year, we lived about 10 minutes from a masjid, but we were kind of bad and didn't really go as often as we should have. The ladies at that masjid had this shoulder-to-shoulder, foot-to-foot theory of row formation and would pluck at your clothes or pinch your elbow until they felt that you were sufficiently close. I found this to be insanely annoying. Not to put too fine of a point on it, but considering the female anatomy, being shoulder-to-shoulder, foot-to-foot also means being plastered together shoulder-to-foot--not exactly fun because:
(a) your neighbor is a complete stranger who is a good eight inches taller and likes to stick her elbows in your ribs;
(b) you concentrate more on keeping your balance than on praying; and
(c) it's really hot.

Anyway, we totally had this perfect strategy for ending up at the end of the row or on the back row where one has more of a right to define one's personal space. But it's not really the best feeling in the world to leave taraweeh and realize that you spent more time thinking about avoidance techniques than prayer. The last straw was when some lady tried to put her foot on top of mine. Umm, no...I will put up with being jammed up so close to someone that I can smell what she had for iftaar for the last three days, but I draw the line at having her foot on top of mine.

Alhamdulillah, we've moved since then and we thought that this Ramadan we would have not problems because now we live close to our favorite masjid. It's really cute and has a great mix of people. It's traditional without being uber-conservative (unlike aforementioned masjid), they do 20 rakat for taraweeh, and we actually go there regularly for Zaytuna classes anyway.

So we go tonight and the place is packed. But as people start leaving, we discover that the women have adopted an ignore-the-gaps-and-resist-your-neighbor's-sleeve-twitching-and-maintain-your-position-at-any-cost theory of row formation. These weren't just a loosely spaced lines, these were lines with three foot holes every half-dozen people. It's awfully ironic, but having these huge gulfs was almost as distracting as standing next to the footsie ladies. What's up with that?

I miss Knoxville.

I hope it is something important!

The Prophet Mohammad (pbuh) taught us that once the Khatib (Imam giving the Friday sermon) begins his Khutba (sermon), one is not allowed to distract himself or herself in any action or talk. It is such an important rule that even asking someone to be silent during a Khutba puts one at the risk of actually losing the reward of the Jum'aa (Friday) prayer. Of course, this does not stop some Muslims from engaging in greeting everyone they pass by, as they enter the Mosque late while the Khutba is going on.

Every once in while, while I am giving a Khutba, someone's cell phone starts ringing. Most people rush to silence it. I can see the guilt and embarrassment on their faces. However, I also witness the rare cases of those who reach to the phone and answer it. I vividly remember the time a middle-aged man sitting in the 2nd or 3rd row answered his cell phone and angrily and discretely (at least he thought he was discrete) whispered to the caller (who I guess was not Muslim): "I hope it is something important. I am in the middle of a sermon and the angry preacher is looking at me now!"

I have to admit, while this was a "what's up with that" moment, I struggled hard to keep myself from laughing in the middle of the Khutba.

Shoulder to shoulder, foot to foot

The Prophet Muhammad (pbuh) advised that when we pray in congregation that we close the gap between us and the people next to us, on each side, by ensuring that we stand shoulder to shoulder and foot to foot. The apparent wisdom is that this bond will encourage unity and brotherhood/sisterhood.

Some people misunderstand this great tradition to the point where they become obsessed with the foot to foot part. Who among us did not have to stand next to such a person who turns the prayer into a mission for his foot to chase yours. After every step in the prayer, he makes sure that his foot forcefully presses on your foot, and if you dare to move your own feet closer to escape the pressure, his foot will follow yours to remind you that there is no escape from that destined bond. I wonder how could he keep his balance with his legs so far apart? It must take a lot practice.

What's up with that?