When will you inspire me?
I have quite a confession to make: I have not been inspired by a sermon in six years. I am talking about a real live sermon, as in the one we attend each week during the mandatory Friday prayer. I have had the good fortune to listen to a few online, proving that not everything about Web 2.0 is a cause of woe, but out in the non-virtual world there has been nothing.
You could say I have high expectations. My earliest memories are those of my father sitting in his study on a Saturday morning, penning his sermon for the following day. This sight accompanied me throughout my childhood, into my teens, right up until I left home. The walls of his study were lined with box files containing each one. Later he got an early Amstrad PC which he filled up with more inspiring words. For 25 years he was a lay-preacher (a Reader—but I tend not to use the correct terminology because non-Anglicans just imagine the bloke who does the reading) and his sermons were a source of inspiration for me. For my childhood, the house built on the rock remains. For my teens, it was his modern parable of the passion flower, based on his patient efforts with a bag of seeds. Later, when my mother was ordained, I would witness her sitting for hours at her computer as well, creating masterpieces with which to inspire her flock.
What can be said of those who write the sermon for each Friday prayer? For the most part, I cannot comment because it is delivered in a foreign tongue. Eighty percent of the sermons I have encountered over the past six years have been incomprehensible to me. No wonder my mind drifts, far from thoughts of God and His greatness. Sometimes a massive urge has welled up within me, to stand up and shout out at the top of my voice, ‘This is England, for crying out loud! Will you not speak the language?‘ But of course I don’t, sitting silently instead, waiting patiently for this revelation to descend upon them. So the Friday prayer becomes a blind ritual, devoid of spirituality, like Latin Matins before the ploughman.
Still the market for Urdu, Punjabi, Bengali, Arabic and Turkish remains strong, and market forces speak in the world of sermons as much as in the land of fried chicken. But language alone is not the problem. An old man recently approached me outside my local mosque to tell me that the management committee intended to bring an English-speaking imam. I’m afraid my enthusiasm did not shine through, possibly because I have heard such sentiments ever since I moved to this town, only for nothing to materialise. As I drove home, the words I wish I had said began to come to mind: ‘We need more than an English speaking imam. We need an iman who will inspire us.’
Last autumn I was in London for a training course and so I rejoiced at the prospect of being able to listen to a sermon in the English language over Friday lunchtime. It was my old local, the one I used to attend when I worked from home. Back then you could count on two out of four sermons inspiring you, as the imam on duty rotated throughout the month. Alas, that sermon last autumn was the opposite of inspiring. It was the incoherent rant of one who could not speak English properly, who appeared to have only a basic grasp of the deen—although his message was that he knew better than the rest of us—and it was as if he had scribbled down two points on the back of a paper napkin five minutes before the start. It was utterly appalling and depressing. And I despaired.
It was not always like this. In the early days, as a student, Goodge Street mosque could be relied upon to inform the believers. When I headed up to Yorkshire, the imam of York mosque would almost always deliver a beautiful, heart-warming sermon. And back in London, if I got the right week, I could listen to a clear perspective on the evils of terrorism and domestic violence at my local mosque. Yes, it has not always been like this, but last Friday I could not stop all of these thoughts coming to my mind. I have not been inspired by a sermon in six whole years. Alhamdulilah, then, for my Sunday study class.
And so, once more—the smile wiped from his face—this stranger asked that familiar question as he left the mosque: ‘When will you inspire me?’
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The Khutbah is mostly boring anyhow. Around here it is the same faces, same monotones, not a topic that has any relation to the real world.
— noted by Abul Layth 1:37 am on 28th May, 2009 .
why don’t you do something sidi?
it’ll only take a day of your week… i.e. the day before Friday where you jot down your Khutba in to your PC, as did your parents
— noted by magh 3:54 am on 28th May, 2009 .
It’s simple, you need to become the Imam Br. Timothy. We need some inspiring forward thinking English trained Imams!
— noted by Farzana 9:52 am on 28th May, 2009 .
Abul Layth… That’s the point. magh… If only I were learned. Farzana… It’s an idea, but I don’t know about “simple”. The notice on the wall of my local mosque requires the Imam to be strictly “Hanafi Sufi”, and I fail on both counts.
— noted by Timothy 11:07 am on 28th May, 2009 .
Salaams.
In my 12 yrs as a Muslim, i can honestly say that other than seeing video/reading the khutbahs of my own shaykh and his shaykh (both of whom i find very relevant and find the message i need each time, even when re-read later i find another layer of meaning relevent to me at that time) i have only ever been touched/inspired by one khutbah inside the masjid. that particular khutbah was last year when the imam was out of town and another brother gave a beautiful telling of the final days of the Prophet salalahi alahi wa salaam. the brother’s voice cracked and he had to stop frequently as he was overcome. along with several other sisters, i cried as well, and i imagine that many brothers in the other room did as well.
in regards to the language… i don’t know what the other madhabs say, but according to Shafi’i a khutbah must be in Arabic but can and should be interpreted into the common language of the people at least. in one of our local masjids (for all it’s many many faults), this is accomplished by the imam’s assistant giving an English language “explanation” of the khutbah prior to the imam beginning. the downside of this method is that it is lacking the human stories/examples as well as the ayat and hadith that are referred to. i have often wondered why the imam does not actually sit down and put his khutbah to paper and allow the assistant to translate it in full, but perhaps they see that as a “christian method”… sigh. in any case, as you say, the khutbahs are rarely relevent or interesting, certainly not inspiring.
the last time i went to the masjid, the khutbah was good, discussing our souls’ covenant with Allah, but ruined in the last half when that topic was twisted into a railing for the community to donate more and faster towards the building of a new masjid and an angry torrent that people were not making sufficient efforts and thereby failing to keep their covenant! subhanAllah…
— noted by Aaminah 12:16 am on 29th May, 2009 .
Maybe you ought to be inspired by their actions. Imagine this group of people who have not mastered the English language, yet they established our local mosques. Allah knows best they have struggled hard.
As you sit for the jumaa prayer the old folks are buried in this sea of young people, and later they reappear at fajr time. And their amazing love for the Prophet salahu alyhe wa sallam which they’ve carried against all odds.
Now compare them to our ‘educated’, ‘well spoken’, ‘forward thinking’, ‘well dressed’ etc. people. When your local imam stands on the minbar he is telling you:
— noted by Mohammed 1:21 pm on 29th May, 2009 .
Once more your words are true. I am certainly aware of the debt I owe the immigrant Muslim community. And I do believe the Imam of my local mosque is a good man—although I pray in a different mosque on working days—for his words certainly do inspire those who understand his lyrical tongue.
— noted by Timothy 5:34 pm on 29th May, 2009 .
Ah, I was going to point out exactly what these last two comments discuss. Often an inspiring speech delivered in a language one doesn’t understand is far more tolerable—perhaps even moving if one can at least grasp the topic from the ayat and ahadith quoted—than either an ill-informed speech delivered in well-formed English or a well-informed speech delivered in ill-formed English.
Certainly one will find far more Muslim speakers at the moment capable of consistently delivering spiritually enriching speeches in Urdu or Arabic than in English. And since in many places the number of worshippers likely to be moved by these speakers outnumbers those who will be moved by English, they still have their place.
But I definitely feel your pain. I’ve regularly asked myself the question in your title with complete desperation (and I understand Urdu and Arabic). One thing I constantly long for is the birth of an Islamic style in English speaking and writing. The currently popular personalities each have their own idiosyncratic styles, but the majority of even native Muslim speakers still always sound as if they are translating. No one ever seems comfortable in the language, except perhaps when they are too comfortable and slip into a style so informal that it is anything but moving. That’s just me, though.
— noted by Ghani 4:59 pm on 31st May, 2009 .
This is not to take issue with your point about having English speaking imams, but as nasiha, you may find this useful (I’m just passing it on from someone I heard): people fail us because they are only people; Allah tells us through the failures of people to put our trust only in Him.
— noted by Abdus Salam 3:48 pm on 11th June, 2009 .
Bismillah…
Assalamualaikum wa Rahmatullah…
Shaykh AbdulHakim Murad’s Khutub are both in English and inspiring…
Download them at http://cambridgekhutbasetc.blogspot.com/
Keep me in your duas,
Wassalam
— noted by Suleiman Bin Salim alMuslim 6:09 pm on 21st June, 2009 .