I had a wonderful Ramadan this year alhamdulilah. I worked fewer hours and concentrated on getting the most out of the month and seeking the mercy of Allah. It was trying at times. Drama interfered more than once; but I stayed focus on observing the fast in all manners and trying to put things in proper perspective.
On most nights I prayed at Masjid Bilal in St. Louis to eat the good food of Sister Faika and hear the beautiful recitation of Imam Kamal. I did manage to make it to Masjid Umar a few nights ( although only 8 rakats are prayed there for taraaweh) and Dar al Islam once.
There were several Eid observations going on in St. Louis; but I wanted to do something special for Eid al-Fitr and Allah blessed me to do just that.
A week or so before Eid a brother suggested that I go to Holy Islamberg in New York for Eid and I seriously considered it; but when I looked at it on paper I just did not have enough funds to make the trip. I sort of resigned myself to doing Eid in St. Louis until about Tuesday or Wednesday when I said I am going to put off all other bills for now and make a trip to Holy Islamville in South Carolina which costs a few hundred less for me.
Several people had told me of how special this place was; but until you see it these words really have no meaning and I was blessed to see it. After I prayed Salat-ul-Maghrib at Masjid Bilal on Thursday night I did not even sit down for the meal and my daughter and I left for the 11 hour drive to Holy Islamville.
As I had not slept I left tired and struggled to stay awake through Illinois, Kentucky and Tennessee until I got to the narrow lanes of the Smokey Mountains in North Carolina surrounded by 18-wheelers and that woke me up real fast.
A friend of mine, host, and worker for the deen in North Carolina told me to get a motel room in Charlotte near his home so that way I could spend time in Charlotte and Islamville: but the closer I got to the area the more and more eager I became to see Islamville and the Holy Khanqa. I decided to find a motel in York, SC and check in and then head out. Keep in mind that those going by calculation( and even some others) were observing Eid so I really was not sure if it was Eid or the last day of Ramadan. As I traveller I was not required to fast so I was drinking caffeine regardless to stay awake.
I was a little nervous to just show up on the land- even at Eid. The last thing the brothers probably want to see is a strange white man showing up from 550 miles away with a camera. For all they knew I could be Paul Williams son or little brother or some nut from the Christian Action Network. I emailed Brother J, a resident of Islamville now studying abroad, and he encouraged me to just show up and that the shrine is open for everyone to witness where the miracles took place ( even non-Muslims).
With my eldest daughter I drove to the land and was greeted by a very nice brother who told me the moon had not been sighted and Eid would be observed the next day. He told me jumma would be at 2:30 and gave me directions to a halal restaurant in Rock Hill, SC to go to before jumma prayer.
Driving back to attend jumma after an excellent meal at Sahara I though of how America is changing. Even in a small town in South Carolina there is a halal restaurant. This is the state that gave us some of the chief architects of the Southern Rebellion in the Civil War, later on Sen. Strom Thurmond who ran for President on the States Rights ticket breaking away with the Democratic Party over his defense of Jim Crow, and in 2000 it was the Presidential campaign of John McCain which was torpedoed in South Carolina after allegations that he had a secret black child out of wedlock ( in reality an adopted child from Bangladesh). Even in this state, and even in a rural area, change had come.
I have been attending jumma prayer for almost 20 years every week all over the world. I have prayed at hundreds of masjids; but I want to tell you that I have never been to a masjid or prayer service anywhere in the world that can compare to this jumma prayer service.
The masjid was packed with people and the talk in English before the Arabic khutbah was simple yet powerful. However, it was not the words of the talk that grabbed me, it was the spirit behind the words and the sense that those in the room had full concentration on those words and a desire to implement the advice, It was not spoken; but it was something I felt as I sat next to big strong mean weeping. There was an energy in the room, something electric, I could feel a power in the atmosphere and these brothers were attached to that power. There was talk of the guidance of Abu ( Sheikh Gilani) and this is not the words of blind followers to a cult leader; but rather the words of grateful men thankful to be saved.
Jumma khutbahs and prayer services vary from masjid to masjid. Some are better than others and certain things depend on their madhab or understanding of the fiqh of the issues. But, I do have to say, in masjid after masjid that I go to I find people texting during jumma, talking on their phones even at times, going to sleep, and in Palestine I even remember seeing people smoke cigarettes while listening to the khutbah, none of those things were imaginable at this service.
After jumma I have to say I felt like a guy speaking Greek in Japan- I was completely lost. I do not even know the terminology to describe all that I saw let’s just say I was unfamiliar with these things and yet they seemed comforting. I was not a participant; but as a witness I felt like someone viewing Muhammad Ali from the front row at Madison Square Garden in the sense that I was viewing the graceful practice of an art at a high level. The guy in the front row at the Garden could not float like a butterfly and sting like a bee: but he knew the man in the ring was special and I knew what I was seeing was special.
A brother was kind enough to give me a tour of the Holy Khanqa after jumma and he taught me the duah to sya before entering and explained to me the miracles that occured at the site. I spent time in this Holy Site in prayer, duah and dhikr knowing that Allah could have chose to reveal His Name anywhere on Earth and yet it was revealed at this site.
I went back to the motel to rest and my daughter asked me if she could stay and I happily said yes. When I returned later that night I got a reminder that I was still in America and still in the South; but Allah is the Protector and the best of planners.
For the day of Eid there are no words to describe what I saw; but as I told Brother J ” for the first time in my life I saw the deen of al-Islam practiced in its entirety”. To further that I am going to say after having been around as much as I have I am going to say this is the only time I ever saw Islam practiced in jamaat.
What do I mean by that?
Not only did I listen to a powerful and stirring talk, not only did I witness the beauty of the durud, and not only was I around sincere believers and lovers of Allah and His Rasul ( s.a.s.): but I was in a community dedicated to this love and the mission.
Older Muslim sisters sat and talked and played with grandchildren, young Muslim girls wore their Eid best, and brothers of all ages sat and congregated and the thing that united this community was the committment to Islam, the love of the Prophet ( s.a.s.), and guidance of a blessed Murshid. This community is not untited by hate, by race, by the love of money, or anything like that. This is a community born of sacrifce for the cause of Islam. This community is also not made up of part-time Muslims who spend a few hours a day quoting fatwas from Saudi Arabia and another few hours a day selling crack. Or a community substituting the Sunnah for deeds only approved by secular-liberals. .
When I looked at the children I became very emotional at the site of these beautiful young faces shining with Nur. These are 3rd, 4th, and as I was informed even 5th generation Muslims. Where else can I go to see such children please inform me of this?
Brothers and sisters how many of us know of entire masjids where all of the children grew up and either flat-out left the deen or just left the practice of the deen? How many of us know cute little Muslim girls raised in the masjid who slid from poles later on? Nice little brothers we played with as boys who now are in prison? Or just rebellious youth who thought they missed out on something by their strict Muslim parents protecting them from the horrors of this kufr around us and rebelling by not practicing the deen?
We have a crisis with our youth and second generation and the community is short on solutions. Some belive the solution is to water down the down, for Muslims to unite at the Lowest Common Denominator, and to say as long as you say you are Muslim you are cool with me no matter how deviant or misguided you are.
The joy and admiration that made me so emotional at the site of these children was knowing where their families came from. They came from places like Brownsville, East New York and Bed-Stuy in Brooklyn, Newark, Philly, DC, and Detroit. Growing up in the hardest neighborhoods in some of the toughest cities in America. From that poverty, from that oppression, from that welfare lifestyle, these pioneers sacrificed not some things, but everything, for Islam after receiving the guidance from Sheikh Gilani. Today you can see the results of the tremendous sacrifices made in these children who run around freely on Muslim land yelling for their Abu who have never known kufr and have only known Islam. These children, like their parents, are being raised as Muslims first and foremost and are organic Muslims, Muslims like fish swim, Muslims like birds fly.
This is a community where you can be born and your children will be educated, you can live and you will have the opportunity to live all of your life as a Muslim and not just play Muslim at jumma for a few hours a day then go back to kickin it with kafirs, and where they have land to put you in the ground after you are checked out. They are guided were others are misguided, they have a sheikh who has led where others have misguided, and they have an adab consistent with their stated positions.
These brothers are warm and friendly living in this organic Muslim community. As I talked to these brothers, looked at the children, and thought of the words and leadership of the leader of this community Sheikh Mubarak Gilani, I said to myself ” how can anyone spread the lies and hate they do about this community”? The answer is simple; these are devils who hate the people of the Sunnah and those who do not conform to the evil norms of this sick world. The same people who make videos against the jamaat of the Muslims of the Americas 50 years ago would have put the noose around the neck of the grandfathers of these brothers and centuries before waged the Crusades. They serve their master, Satan, their leaders, politicians and men of money, their organizations, the Tea Party, CAN and it’s ilk, and are destined for their home- Hell. While this community serves God, is led by a blessed Murshid, operates an organization dedicated to the highest principals in existence, and is destined for paradise insha’Allah.
I drove back to St. Louis with my daughter feeling I had witnessed what brothers have talked about for years; but have never created and that is a living and breathing cradle to grave Muslim community in America. The glue that keeps it together from what I have seen is the leadership of Sheikh Gilani and I cannot imagine any Muslim in their right mind objectively looking at what this community has accomplished, the miracles that have taken place, the generations which have sprung forth, and not loving this man. To know the facts, and not love this man, reveals a sickness in your heart.
Today it is back to work, back to bills, and back to family. Yet what I took from my visit will not leave me and I pray it will not leave my daughter either.