I went to the St. Augustine Muslim mosque. It wasn't a mosque. It was an Islamic center. Have to research the difference. Saw lots of shoes. Took mine off, too. The shoe box shelf was full so I just left mine there. Wore some blue Sketcher slip-ons instead of my normal Docksiders so I would fit in better.
There were two doors. One said Mens Entrance the other Womens. I thought I was in the restroom area at some kind of a Walmart's or something. Went in the men's. Small entryway. Another door. Scared me shitless. I was late. The thing had started. In I went.
The room was filled with ordinary folks squatting. I was surprised. I expected to see a room full of Afro Americans and Arab looking people. This looked more like the gang of day laborers that gathers at the Seven Eleven looking to be picked up.
The vibes were very good. There was a raghead up front speaking sometimes in English, sometimes in what I think was Arabic or something, and often chanting like a Cantor with a very nice voice. The service sounded a bit like when I went to my Mom's church, Mount Carmel Catholic in Asbury Park, when the service was in latin. Lots and lots of fear God stuff. Allah. The God of Abraham. The God of the Muslims and the Christians and the Jews. I loved that. Partial Unity.
I get upset when I see the press demeaning "Allah Akbar" just because that terrorist used it. I use it. I think it means God is Great. Whoever he, she or it is...my veil to the beyond is knitted quite thick and I only get an occasional glimpse over there and I am nearsighted but I have a vivid imagination.
Anyway, he/she/it sure as hell is great. Look at a spider under a microscope and ponder the original source of its DNA. There is no doubt in my mind that God is pretty bright and that someone with a sense of humor origionaly put this mess of sensory input we call 'Our World' together. So let's just argue about the How, When and Where of it all.
Like my white blood cells must be continually arguing about who the hell they are dying for, and who started this whole Ted Lesher thing anyway. (I don't think they are smart enough to ponder why there is a Ted Lesher to begin with like you and I do)
Once inside, what I heard was a ho-hum rant about how Great Allah was, Praise Allah, Fear Allah, Allah will reward you, Allah will punish you... how they should do their circle-the-square thing; Hadim, 'go to Mecca' once a year or at least once a lifetime. Observe the teachings of the Quoran-but no mention of Jihad!!!
A guy giving off good vibes saw me when I came in, put my back against the wall for support, and slid down into a sitting position with my legs poking forward and brought me a nice plastic chair. They have them for old people to sit in. I did get down and scrape my forhead with them because I really do believe their is a good God and at the end I stood sholder to shoulder with them to show I wanted to be brothers with them as long as they agreed with me.
Yusef, my Muslim Pizza Parlor Friend, greeted me warmly at the end and asked how I liked it. I told him honestly I liked what I heard. He smiled and said I should meet the Imam whereupon he shouted a word (I hope it wasn't "Kufar" and the Imam came down and warmly greeted me.
I told him I liked his service, that nothing he said offended me, that I wanted to come back." He was as nice or nicer to me than any Priest or Pastor I had met.
And there was no collection. Only a big box he pointed to in the back at the end of the service and a few people actually went up and put something in it . I took out my wallet and took out my bills from it. I only had two twentys and I couldn't part with one of them, so I turned toward the wall, put the twenties back in the wallet and the wallet back in my pocket and slid out the door all smiles.
I will go again. And write more blogs. I need to know. I will look for a Missel or book or something to let me know more about what they are saying and chanting in MuslimSpeak. I want to know there are lots of good Muslims out there who are not Jihadists. I want them to rat on their radical brothers. I want to believe they have the same ideals I read about in Fire on Ice and when Cassius Clay changed his name to Muhammad Ali. I want to think they walk their talk better than many of my church going friends.
You manifest what you think and say...so I will stay positive until I have to shoot some fanatical son-of-a-bitch. And I won't care if he is an Afro-American car jacker, a Jihadist Muslim or some crazy white bastard who wants my wallet at the cash machine.
You know I have this unrelenting compulsion to try for a laugh about everything. I hope you will love me anyway! God Bless! Namaste'
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