Living On A Prayer

I haven't been to a Friday prayer in a while now but today I did go to one here in Tg. Malim. Most people go to Friday prayer out of routine but for me it's for the sense of community and the relevance of the sermon. Today's sermon was nothing to write home about; in fact, I was asleep during most of it. I was hoping for a more political sermon given the current state of affairs in Perak right now but I was sadly disappointed.

I religiously went to Friday prayer when I was living in the US since I enjoyed being with other Muslims from all over the world and the sermons given by the imam were usually about current issues and how we as Muslims can deal with challenges of living in the multicultural America. When I was living in Washington, DC, I used to pray at the Indonesian Embassy on Massachusetts Ave., which was a unique experience in itself. The old wing of the embassy, where the musollah is, used to be the historical mansion owned by the late Katherine Graham, the former publisher of the Washington Post. The ceiling of the musollah was painted with cherubs on wings and other Biblical motifs, which can be a bit disconcerting for Muslims first time praying there. It's like having the Friday prayer in a basilica, which for me was a really cool experience.

I remember one Friday when there was a small demonstration in-front of the Indonesian embassy by a group of pro-GAM Acehnese. But when praying time came, all the protesters were invited inside to pray without any reservations at all. After the prayer ended, the protesters resumed their protest outside the gate. For me this was an amazing sight to behold and I'm still at awe every time I thought about that particular moment. I seriously doubt that Malaysian protesters would be cordially invited in if they ever protested in-front of the Malaysian embassy, which happened a lot during the whole Anwar fiasco 10 years ago. But then, Indonesian embassy in the US is known to promote more tolerant brand of Islam and it always invites Islamic scholars and academics to give the Friday khutbah (sermon), which was the biggest draw for me.

While living in Indonesia I had the chance of going to a Friday prayer in Mesjid Agung in Solo, Central Java. It's a grand historical mosque built over 200 years ago and is an architectural marvel in its simplicity. I remember stepping into the main praying area and made a 360-degree turn to appreciate the woodwork and breathe in the aura of history. I really want to visit it again some time soon as I didn't get to spend much time in Solo when I was there.

I also miss praying with my former students and other ustadzs in the pesantren's mosque. Aside from playing sports, the mosque was where I got to know the students and teachers much better and in more personal terms. Pak Syahrudi, the director of my pesantren, asked me a few times if I can give a Friday sermon in English but I kept refusing. What, me? Leading the flock? No way, Jose! Diri sendiri pun tak terbimbing hahaha... I miss the sweet sobbing voice of the imam - yes, he's crying during the recitation - when he's reading sura Al-A'la in the first raqaat, one of my favorite suras in the Qur'an. But hopefully I'll get the chance to visit the pesantren this coming May for my students' graduation ceremony.