The community in which I live has just completed the construction of a new mosque, alhumdullilah. It was many years in the planning– from raising the funds to finding the site, then getting permission from the local government, followed by the complexity of design, architecture, contracts, construction, weather, fittings, appointments, etc. This mosque marks a victory for nearly one hundred Muslim families who formerly drove thirty-five minutes to the main mosque in another part of the city.
I attended an Open House there last weekend. I knew there’d be displays, good food, talks, plenty of interaction with Muslims and non-Muslims, and maybe a renewal of spirit for me as well as other attendees.
I didn’t cover my head, out of a desire to remain non-hypocritical. I don’t cover, except for prayer, so why should I cover to go to the mosque for a social event? I don’t believe covering is a requirement of Islam, and I’m not going to argue the point. My relationship with the practice holds more meaning for me than delving into the minutiae of Islamic law. Besides, even if covering is required, I’m still not going to do it in the United States–period.
Well, my old ambivalence about covering has not evaporated despite years of living in the United States, where covering is not enforced by a CPVPV (Committee for the Promotion of Virtue and the Prevention of Vice). My ambivalence has nothing to do with the religious legality of the issue, however. It’s about being recognized– or not– as a Muslima. Quite frankly, there are times when I want to be recognized for my faith, and times when I don’t. As for modesty, that’s a non-issue these days; I’m a gray-haired senior citizen.
The Open House featured question and answer sessions with community leaders. Most in the audience were non-Muslims, and naturally, head covering interested them. The speaker, a woman who devotes much of her time to community outreach and education, said that yes, head covering is required. I didn’t contradict her– there’s no point debating the issue– but she gave a good argument in favor of the practice.
She said that because the head cover immediately identifies the woman as a Muslim, her behavior is always on display as a reflection of her faith. It gives the woman constant opportunities to behave as best she can according to the manners, beliefs, and practices of Islam both with respect to herself and with her interactions in society.
I liked this explanation better than any other I’ve heard. It trumps the Qur’an and Sunnah based interpretations, at least for me. I felt sorry I had not covered, because people greeted me with, “Hello,” and not, “Assalaamu Aleikum,” to which I responded, “Assalaamu Aleikum,” which brings me to a situation that I find irritating: women who are not covered are assumed to be non-Muslims. For the record, it ain’t always so!
Besides, I bristle at the idea that Muslim women should be recognized in public as Muslims, while Muslim men wear no such badge on their heads. I wonder how long the practice would remain relevant if men had to wear a cap with an “M” stamped front and back.
Anyway, the new mosque is beautiful and just a fifteen minute drive from my house. I renewed acquaintance with several women I hadn’t seen for quite awhile, and I met some new ones whom I’d love to see again. I’ll be attending programs and prayers at this mosque– the sooner the better–and I’ll do so covered.