Jamie Stark
Plans for building an Islamic center in New York City and mosques in Murfreesboro, Tenn., and Sheboygan, Wis., have noisy ignoramuses around the country raising hell against religious freedom during this acrimonious election season. Here in Madison, though, there are several peaceful places where Muslims can share prayer and community. No minarets, no intrusive evangelism, simply unassuming houses of God for those Madisonians who practice Islam.
On a sunny fall Friday, I was invited to the Islamic Center of Madison Area (ICMA), the mosque closest to downtown, to see how some members of the UW campus Muslim community worship. Located at 21 N. Orchard St., the Center is quietly tucked behind Palis Cafe on Regent. Walking by, one barely notices the two-story, gray stone building with quaint flowering planters out front.
Friday is the holy day for Muslims. The weekly service begins at 12:30 p.m., around the time of the second of five daily ritual prayers that are known as the salah. Upon entering the front doors, I took my shoes off like the other men and proceeded upstairs with my guide, Rashid Dar, president of the Muslim Students Association at the University of Wisconsin.
A second-floor balcony looks down over the main worship hall, a high-ceilinged but unimposing room featuring a few spinning fans, bookshelves of Qur'ans in multiple languages, and a packed floor with a diverse group of men kneeling and sitting cross-legged on a giant, ornate rug. Each time someone joined the service, they would lean forward for two quick bows, traditional upon entering a mosque. The main hall itself was so full that worshippers who came in late filled the adjoining library room, the upstairs balcony, even the stairway landing. Even if they couldn't see the speakers, all the men faced the same way when praying: east toward the holy city of Mecca.
The service was short, sweet and mostly in English. After a call to prayer, a speaker offered a short prayer in Arabic, and then delivered a lengthy sermon in English. The speaker was acting as khateeb, Arabic for sermon giver. The ICMA does not have a paid imam, or mosque leader, so religious leadership is shared on a mostly voluntary basis. On this particular Friday, the khateeb was an older Arabic language instructor at the UW. He stood on a slightly raised balcony and spoke softly into a microphone about sincerity in faith and in life. A quick break for prayer interrupted the sermon, and suddenly the speaker returned to his wrap up his message.
The closing prayer presented a powerful image of faith. The men lined up in neat rows, standing and bowing on their knees in unison as a leader chanted in Arabic. Eyes closed, the worshippers would respond together in a low, hum-like answer. This final prayer of the service is a special one for the holy day.
I didn't see a single turban, though a few younger men wore traditional hats, or kufi, a sign of modesty in front of God. Most men wore jeans and a button-down shirt, not far removed from a typical Sunday at a Midwestern church.
Female attendees worshiped either in the far end of the balcony behind a folding wall or in a separate room on the first floor, watching the sermon on a TV, somewhat reminiscent of the satellite sanctuaries at Blackhawk Church, with an added gender twist.
"The conditions aren't ideal," says Dar, noting that in larger mosques women usually worship in the back as opposed to a separate room. "But it's an older building, and it's what we have."
Dar says women usually worship in back so men can stay focused on God during the ritual prayer. "The logic goes that if women were to be intermingled with the men or in front of the men, it would be too much of a distraction," he notes. "The idea is to maintain modesty and humility in the house of God."
After the service, several attendees enthusiastically greeted me, clearly the stranger but welcome nonetheless. I met a convert who is a defensive linebacker for the Badgers and a sophomore who has had the entire Qur'an memorized since age 13 despite speaking no Arabic. His father, likewise a Guardian, or Muslim who knows the entire Qur'an, began memorizing at age 4.
The ICMA is no Lutheran church, but I never once felt uncomfortable or unwanted. It was strange to see only one woman, a fellow visitor. But the experience was a view of God from a fresh perspective. Without knowing much about the theological nuances, I still felt humbled in the presence of a community worshiping God with such commitment. On the surface, the differences I noted felt more cultural than ideological.
Madison is home to two other mosques: Masjid As-Sunnah, located by the Beltline and Verona Road; and the Madison Dawa Circle and Masjid Al-Madinah, situated near Union Corners. The latter plans to expand beyond its current location and build a new mosque nearby in Sun Prairie. Let's hope and pray that Dane County's Islamophobes and cynical political operators are too busy to notice.
Jamie Stark is a student at UW-Madison majoring in journalism and political science. He is a member of Luther Memorial Church and writes about the diverse religious community in Madison.
