This Ramadan, finding a new way to worship
It’s true, I didn’t go to the mosque as often as I should, and now with Ramadan coming to a wrap, I haven’t had the opportunity to go in almost 10 weeks.
As a Muslim, the only day that I am obligated to pray in communal worship is Friday, but visiting throughout the week to pray one of our five prayers with the community is sizable not just in good deeds, but also in spiritual upliftment.
But like other Muslims, Christians, Jews, Buddhists and friends in other faith traditions, I didn’t take advantage as much as I could before the pandemic, especially when the mosque is less than 15 minutes away from me. Sometimes I can make it in 12 minutes if I hit all greens.
And now we’re in the last part of our holiest month, and for the first time in our lives, American Muslims have gone without our place of worship for the entire month of Ramadan. It’s a month prized for drawing nearer to God and spending our evenings and nights at the mosque with hundreds of others — the exact opposite of social distancing.
A month where we spend almost 30 days fasting, as a continuous form of worship, from sunrise to sunset, abstaining from food, water and medicine, and remembering God more throughout this time than any other.
Instead, millions of people have had to find a way to rework and redefine our connection with God and the way we draw closer to him.
As is almost tradition with all Muslims, I asked myself how I would make this the best Ramadan ever and found myself questioning if it were even possible in the midst of our lockdown. No prayers at the masjid, sand volleyball after worship, spiritual reminders in between prayers and no hanging around the chai kettle and meeting with friends I hadn’t seen in a year.
I was forced to evaluate the true strength and nature of my connection with God, and in evaluating what defines it. I realized my worship in Ramadan has become entirely dependent upon communal worship and social upliftment.
In other words, over the years I had taken on a crutch and grown accustomed to leaning on it without even knowing.
One of my favorite passages in the Quran because it reminds me to look at life from a different lens: “And if you were to count the blessings of God, you would not be able to.” (Chapter of the Bees: 18)
It says to me that the situation isn’t as bad as I perceive it to be. That he’s continuously providing, and I just have to be observant enough to find his hand in my life.
In searching for ways to create a more resilient connection with God, I’ve found it easiest to look around me and meditate on the blessings that I have. Family, shelter, food and running water are the most apparent, but how about masks, bleach, beautiful spring weather and peace in our land?
Pandemic Ramadan has forced me and everyone else to look outside of the traditional means of worshipping God in this holy month. Accepting isolation and all that it entails has revealed new opportunities to forge a more resilient connection with him.
Instead of listening to the imam’s rhythmic recitation of the Quran, I found a comfortable corner in my home to read our holy book along with a translation of the Arabic, which fills my soul.
In a month where we do as many good deeds as possible because the rewards are multiplied, each of us has found new and innovative ways to benefit the less fortunate and help those who need it the most.
Because we don’t have to get ready for the mosque after breaking our fast, my wife and I have been able to spend extra time at the dinner table with our son discussing our relationship with God and stories from the life of the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him).
And with the downtime, I’ve discovered the complex world of sauces in new cooking channels on YouTube. But that’s really a win for my wife.
Sure, this pandemic has taken away the mosque, iftar parties (breaking of the fast) and my friends and extended family, but it has given me so much more. Usually, an opportunity reserved for those facing severe trials in their lives, it has provided an appreciation for all that I have by finding blessings in my life I didn’t previously recognize.
My experiences have not only impacted this Ramadan and Ramadan in the future, but it has also provided me with a more sustainable and resilient way to connect with God throughout the year.
We could all use a reminder to take advantage of the solitude and the lockdown to take stock of all that we’re blessed with as well as the blessings we may have neglected in the past. Happy Ramadan, and may happiness find you always.