At the beginning of this post series, I related a story about a mosque that I no longer attend. This past summer we drove by that mosque to see bouncy castles and a huge community barbecue in full swing. I felt betrayal and annoyance — but not regret. Circumstances and an uncomfortable atmosphere drove my family away and we were clearly not missed. But figuratively, they did miss us — and we are one more family who no longer support, attend or enrich that community.
So we’ve done what some do when the mosque becomes an unbearable place — we try to make connections to other communities. Now every ‘Eid, we celebrate with the Muslim Association of Canada — who runs programs and events at various secular locations, with bouncy castles and barbecues too. We engage with live-streaming programs from Seeker’s Hub, a learning centre and self-claimed non-mosque, dedicated to community service, social engagement and education through a group of brilliant scholars. And when we can, attend conferences like Reviving the Islamic Spirit. I also attend the occasional gender-inclusive Jummah prayer at the El-Tawhid Jummah Circle and through this blog, have made amazing connections to fellow Muslims all over the world.
But it’s not perfect. Having a liminal or disjointed community base can also at times be unfulfilling. And sometimes, the answer is to create one’s own community as many of our participants have done.
I’m curious to know where or if you find connections to a community, or if you’ve created your own “mosque” community — please join our discussion in the comments!
Since leaving the mosque, where/how do you find community or connection to other Muslims?
Ify: I find community and connection with small groups of friends, meeting in homes or for activities like hiking, going out to eat or the movies. I’ve found small halaqa circles and have been branching out to explore other mosque communities. I regularly attend classes on Islam so there is a great feeling of community within those spaces.
Randy: Basically, the same way I connect with anybody else. I maintain friendships and acquaintances via personal interactions and electronic media. I never relied on a mosque for social connectivity.
Maryam: I’ve co-founded a group in my city, so maybe you can say I’m re-mosqued, but in a very different way?
It’s an incredibly supportive and friendly community, non-segregated, and following principles of gender equality and shared religious authority. The khutbas are beautifully thoughtful and heartfelt, so it’s a spiritually enriching space where I actually feel like I can absorb what’s being said. It’s amazing to have a regular group of people to meet up with to pray and talk about Islam together.
Aside from that, I have Muslim friends from school or from events I’ve gone to (or from the religious spaces I used to go to), and I manage to see them pretty often. It probably takes longer to build a personal Muslim community if you’re not in any one religious space regularly, but I’ve eventually managed to find or create pretty awesome communities wherever I’ve lived.
And then there’s the internet. There are a number of bloggers and other connections that I’ve encountered over the years, and that’s actually been a pretty important source of Muslim community and friendship in my life, even if my interaction with most of them has been almost entirely online.
Javed: Since I’m an honorary Malaysian, through my wife, we’ve met pretty much every Malaysian and Indonesian family in the area. So our Muslim community is more like our Southeast Asian cultural community.
Omar: I don’t really look for community. I like being a loner.
Sajida: I haven’t found a community. Thankfully, my research has connected me with individuals that I have found very inspiring. These have usually been chaplains or shuyukh that these chaplains have put me in touch with.
Furakh: While I was at school, I had a good group of friends and we created our own community of sorts. I still connect with them online, alhamdulillah, but besides that I have little connection with other Muslims.
Ida: I haven’t left the mosque. I just haven’t been going. This is an important distinction which shouldn’t be overlooked.
Khaiam: If you know where to look, when you leave the mosque you can figure out where to find others who have also left. I’ve felt more community from the few Muslims unattached to a mosque than a large group within one.
Read more in this series:
Unmosqued: A Roundtable Discussion
Making the Mosque Relevant Again
February 28, 2013 at 10:58 am
If mosques are anything like churches (i.e. made up of people), then I am not so sure that you will find the perfect mosque.
Here is a poem I am reminded of:
“If you should find the perfect church
Without one fault or smear,
For goodness sake! Don’t join that church;
You’d spoil the atmosphere.
If you should find the perfect church
Where all anxieties cease
Then pass it by lest joining it
You’d mar the masterpiece.
If you should find the perfect church
Then don’t you ever dare,
To tread upon such holy ground;
You’d be a misfit there.
But since no perfect church exists
Made of imperfect men,
Then let’s cease looking for that church
And love the church we’re in.
Of course, it’s not a perfect church,
That’s simple to discern
But you and I and all of us
Could cause the tide to turn.
What fools we are to flee our post
In that unfruitful search
To find at last where problems loom
God proudly builds His church.
So let’s keep working in our church
Until the resurrection.
And then we each will join that church
Without an imperfection.
February 28, 2013 at 10:21 pm
I don’t think we’re trying to find the perfect mosque. I just think we’re trying to find a mosque that’s tolerant and open to change, that’s inclusive not exclusive. I don’t think that’s too much to ask for. But I definitely see what you mean and that should of course be taken into account. 🙂
March 1, 2013 at 2:32 am
Hi aurooba, I hope you don’t think I was being critical.
I think the poem is saying that wherever there are people there will be flaws and mistakes, and that (if possible) we should try to make changes when things are wrong rather than look elsewhere for that perfect place which doesn’t exist.
But I understand what you are saying. Places of worship should be places where we feel welcome and are built up, refreshed and encouraged.
If things are so bad that there is no hope in sight, then it may well be best to look elsewhere or start your own thing.
I hope you find the right mosque which supports you in your faith journey.
Salaam 🙂
March 7, 2013 at 12:47 am
Lovely poem glo!
As an aside, I have to say there have been times where I’ve regaled my family with wonderful stories of inclusion and activity from friend’s churches, or when I’ve done interfaith work and joined a church service. I know churches have their own problems, and are facing the same issue of lack of congregants as mosques (for different reasons, though I bet some would resonate) — but there have been moments of “place of worship” envy 😉
March 7, 2013 at 1:08 am
It would be interesting to explore the differences or similarities in the reasons why people leave places of worship.
In churches I imagine that reasons are around feeling limited or restricted by ‘traditional approaches’ or looking for an individual faith rather than a communal one. (I have always loved the Islamic concept of the Ummah. Although it exists in the Body of Christ too, the many denominations within Christianity can make it difficult to see the unifying beliefs)
Also, there seems to be a trend for people to leave the mainstream (and often more liberal, but perceived as wishy-washy) churches and to join more lively and charismatic (but often also more conservative and less liberal in their theological outlook).
Perhaps is Christianity people seek for clearer and more defined answers, rather than having to work out their faith for themselves …
Perhaps in Islam people seek for more freedom to express their faith, rather than having strict rules on how it’s done …
?
March 2, 2013 at 10:41 pm
salam ,
the answer is very sad and simple, i don’t connect to the community because women are not allowed in mosques in reunion island. not even for eid.
if you’re a convert or a stranger to the island you can meet sisters in the women’s class, if there is one, where you’ll appreciate the pleasure of gossiping, racism and overlooking surrounded by people as warm as ice cubes, or you just stay on your own.
since most of the people don’t mingle with the opposite gender you can guess how practical this is to socialise or find a spouse.
you have no access to the imams. you can’t invite anyone at your place and you’re not invited either.
many people run away from continental france hoping to feel better as muslims in an organised ans well settled community and many are just turned away by the local mentality and ways.
i’ve been trying and being patient for 4 years now, as soon as Allah opens a way for me i’m going to leave inchallah.
March 7, 2013 at 12:49 am
Wasalaams Nour! Thank you so much for your comment. I’m literally blown away that this issue has reached the isles of Reunion! I hope you’re able to find your community insha’Allah.
March 6, 2013 at 4:48 am
Assalamu alaikum. We don’t really have a community, we have a collection of families. There is no sense of community at the mosque if you’re not from the very particular regional and linguistic group that dominates: for the rest of us it is simply a building set aside for prayer. We try to substitute the lack of community with virtual, online worlds, but these are mostly imaginary too.
March 7, 2013 at 12:58 am
Wa ‘alaikum salaam! You’re so right about the imaginary nature of virtual, online worlds. They can shore you up when you need to vent, discuss and even offer support and sympathy — but when it comes down to the needs of a physical structure (for such importnat things as life events: aqeeqas, janaazas, weddings, etc), the virtual world sadly falls short.
Thanks for your comment!