In my previous post in this series I discussed the fundamental and regular duties of a typical religious director. In this post, I cover the work that meets people at different stages of their lives.

 

Contents

Sunday School Administration and Teaching. 1

Youth. 3

Marriage. 5

Counseling. 7

Divorce. 9

Death. 11

 

 

Sunday School Administration and Teaching

 

This is one part of the imaamah that I have, thus far, barely touched. In both the masjids I have served, I entered their community while a Sunday School program was in progress, and I did not want to rock the boat. But among my imam and alumni groups, Sunday School curriculum is a frequent discussion topic.

Sunday Schools have failed American Muslim youth for a variety of reasons. One of those I feel is unqualified teachers. I do not say that out of anger towards the teachers themselves, for putting themselves in positions they are not qualified for. I actually have great admiration for them to volunteer the way they do, and give it their all, week after week. But Islamically speaking, this is a problem with nearly all Islamic organizations, in nearly every level. If the masjid boards are woefully Islamically illiterate, and Islamic school staff and faculty, then the Sunday schools will be no different. The vast majority of Muslims simply have no idea how ignorant they are of their own religion. But understanding of the religion is only half of the problem – knowing how to teach, and being motivated to do so are the other parts of the equation, and I dare say, those parts are more important – and even many seminary trained imams lack this, and I fear I may be one of them. Keeping children engaged in the masjid may be more important than what they are engaged with, especially since those details will likely be forgotten once their parents pick them up and ask them what they learned.

Unqualified teachers is perhaps an extension of the Muslim community’s failure to motivate their children to do anything other than business and medicine – or to think that they cannot excel at both deen and dunya. And so the result is a generation of highly successful parents in STEM, but completely ignorant of the basics of an Islamic worldview foundation.

As I say this, I know that many Muslims blame the imams for not raising their children properly. I feel this is a copout. A 15 minute khutbah on Friday and a 45 minute dars on Sunday are supposed to overcome 40 hours of school peer pressure and 7 days a week of a home environment where the parents may or may not be praying regularly, much less guarding what kind of media their children consume or are exposed to, nor the worldview that they are taught in?  That is, if there even was an imam and the masjid was not “between imams” for several years on and off during the child’s upbringing. Are parents even reviewing Quran with their children, or the stories of the prophets, or the Seerah, lives of the companions, tafseer or riyadhul-Saliheen? The bar is set low, as I am not talking about detailed fiqh or aqeedah, nor usool al-fiqh, uloom al-hadeeth, Arabic language studies, and the tools and goals of scholars. 

Another is too high of expectations from parents, with too little effort from them during the week. Parents who do not teach their own children al-fatihah or the tashahhud – do they even pray themselves? Or is Sunday school just a babysitting program?

It is possible to make Sunday school robust, full of learning and meaningful projects, but that would require taking a full-time Islamic school’s Arabic, Quran and deen curricula and transfer it to the weekend school. It is possible, but parents do not expect or want their children to have homework that competes with their secular work. Or, it would essentially be like a regular school day, between those 3 subjects on repeat or both Saturday and Sunday, with plenty of breaks and recess, while requiring worthwhile compensation for the teachers, and greater fees upon the students. It is possible, even if it would be challenging at first. 

Another requirement of a robust and ideal Sunday school — or any Islamic school — is having two tiers. Such schools always suffer when someone enters the program in middle school, but they do not know alif, nor have they heard of the five daily prayers. Their parents may have been nudged towards the Islamic school, or they chose that option when their child got in trouble at the public school. And so the Islamic schools and Sunday schools may have “angels and demons” in the same class, while they all gravitate towards the middle and the teacher has material below some and above others. So the majority are frustrated. 

In other words, the only way for us to make our Sunday schools and full time Islamic schools really Islamic and comprehensive, is through the kind of funding that our communities just are not used to. 

Another model that I feel may even be more successful is instead of parents dropping their children off for Sunday School, they instead stay and sit side-by-side with their children, learning Arabic together, Quran together, and deen together. Or giving them the tools and practice to teach their children those subjects, more like a workshop rather than a school.

I also feel that Sunday school ends too early. Kids tend to quit it once they hit 11 or 12 years old. Middle and high school are when they need it the most, and when they are actually ready to learn and ask questions about what is relevant to them. It’s not surprising then that students go from Sunday school, with only a rudimentary understanding of the faith, and then when they enter critical and volatile years that put into question all that they previously learned, seeking peer approval more than anything, they drift to atheism, materialism, or a street life of violence, drugs, and sex.

Some imams teach in their Sunday schools while others administer and yet others use that time block to teach a dars to the parents. Once again, this will ultimately depend on the strength of the volunteers, the imam’s contract (community expectations), or even his personal preference. Ultimately imams tend to have a more consulting role in large communities and a hands-on role in smaller. That is simply because there may be a lot more specialized demands on the imam in larger communities. Imams of medium sized communities — where the demand is relatively high but support staff are in short supply — have the greatest burdens. I tell my own masjid do not expect me to be consistent every Sunday, as there may be an out of town wedding I have to attend, or a funeral I have to follow, or an “About Islam” talk I need to present.

 

Youth

 

“The imam just told me to pray, make dhikr, recite Quran, and keep away from haram, what kind of advice is that!? The imam didn’t have any magic pixie dust to turn my children into good Muslims?? Why are my kids my problem?”

Like many other subjects, a Muslim community may have evolved in a unique way to organize the youth. Rarely do youth make the transition from Sunday school to being a regular masjid attendee, even though the weekly Seerah lessons or Riyadhul-Saliheen do not say “You must 21 or older to attend”. The default is that the youth transition to acting like regular adults, attending adult activities once they hit puberty. High school, college, career building, starting a family, etc seem to have sucked up Muslims between 15 and 45 years old. MSAs sadly often contribute to the problem. As they evolve on their own like the Galapagos islands, cut off from the mainland, under the liberal influence of university climate.

“The youth” was a subject that intimidated me. When I was a teenager, I couldn’t stand other teens, and high school was undoubtedly the worst time of my life. So before becoming an imam, I read Doug Fields’ Purpose Driven Youth Ministry and found it very enlightening and practical, however it is a formula for full-time youth workers, not part-time, much less an imam with a hundred other duties, or weekend warrior parental volunteers. One of my ambitions was to guide a parental youth committee along the lessons learned from Fields’ book along with the works of child psychiatrist Leonard Sax.

In St Louis, for IFGSTL an imam led a Saturday teen boys halaqah. Eventually the boys organized themselves and formed MYSTL (Muslim Youth of St Louis), a highly successful organization. Because it started with a halaqah, learning about deen has been central to all of its activities, whether weekly or annual.

I’ve seen other projects from other communities that revolve around leadership or academics. And while that is commendable, there is nothing Islamic about it. If all you want to do is keep the youth busy, then sure, a soccer team or a robotics team will be great. But unless Islamic knowledge is central and unless learning is a part of the experience, there is nothing being done to address doubts or keep them tied to Islam. It is instead, like a boy scout troop or after school club that just so happens to meet in a house of worship.

When I first came to Pittsburgh, my masjid had a part-time youth director. They gathered on Saturdays for a few hours to bond over games with small halaqahs every half hour. Then on Sundays with another masjid, they alternate one weekend an outing, and the other a lesson. And you cannot participate in the outings if you haven’t received the lesson. Boys and girls are split up on alternate weekends.

But after our youth director resigned during the pandemic, I have attempted to revive part of what he provided for us.

 

On a related note, there is a misconception that imams know everything. While I value the respect and reverence towards imams when someone says “you would know best” or “let’s ask the imam, he would know”, you can imagine that this inaccurate at best, dangerous at worst. The lesson of al-Khidr is that no one knows everything, and we know that ultimately, it is Allah who knows best. I remember brothers discussing where to hang a poster, and one said to me “You would know best”. Where to hang a poster? Seriously?

Likewise, with youth activities. I can tell you what is halal and haraam. But beyond that, education, curriculum design, etc is an entire specialization. Most Islamic seminaries do not touch upon the subject of tarbiyah. Mine did in the college I studied in, and so technically you could say I have a minor in education, but it is far from a specialization. This is another area where the experts of multiple fields need to come together to find or create the best curriculum and ideas.

But even in halal and haram or the how to’s of worship, many imams make mistakes. So to pretend that the imam knows everything, is grossly inaccurate. And it is dangerous not only to the imam, inflating his ego or nurturing kibr, but also to the community. It leads to extremism and hero worship. But then should the imam actually commit a blunder, if does not detract, the people will be split into two camps. One half, following him in his error, and the other half saying “he’s no imam, he’s no scholar, he’s an impostor, a charlatan, jaahil” etc, going to the other extreme. Always respect the inheritors of the prophets, but without excess. They commit sins, they make mistakes. Ask them when the topic is their realm, and seek their opinion, out of respect, if it isn’t, but recognize their limits. “Imam, what is your opinion on this new technique of underwater basket weaving?” Or “Imam, have you studied particle physics? What do you feel about …” And recognize that imams, like anyone else, come with their own history and biases that are hard to escape. 

 

Convert care 

 

I may enjoy this aspect of imaamah a little more than most, since I myself am a convert. I wrote over a dozen articles on my blog directed towards converts and their relationship with Islam and the Muslim community, their relationships with others, and life stages and big decisions as converts. I teach a fairly advanced weekly open class for new Muslims, teaching fiqh and aqeedah, seerah and history, and certain subjects of Usul al-Fiqh. I also work to organize the male converts in a group chat and host a monthly potluck.

But handling converts is difficult for most ethnic imams – or even Muslims in general – who grew up in practicing families. Too often, they do not appreciate how overwhelming it may be to change everything about one’s life so suddenly – or at least in the way they often preach to converts. I am so grateful and appreciative to my mentors who taught me an Islam that I could actually practice. As a 17-year-old without an extra dollar to my name, I was not told to stop eating everything my mother fed me. Although I do realize, and partially regret that I was not taught a more nuanced understanding holidays from the people I consulted.

Most converts embrace Islam, not because their life is great, but because they realize they cannot rely on anything of this world for happiness and stability. They may even be going through long term mental health issues. Most communities cannot retain converts because their regular worshipers and leadership cannot empathize with those struggles, nor have the patience to see them reach a spiritual maturity.

The other side of convert care is the territoriality many Muslims have towards certain converts. When an established white male accepts the faith out of conviction, people are quick to smother him, and claim him. Each one wants him to follow their understanding. I’m grateful that one of the first advices I first received as a convert was, “if anyone tries to tell you something, just say I’m being taken care of, thank you,”. We had a designated mentor who taught us at a proper pace. Allah reward him.

If potential converts come with a fascination of a certain aspect of Islam, or attachment to Muslim friends, I encourage more study of the general “about Islam” to foster conviction. Only once have I sat a man down who previously said “I am Muslim, I just want the certificate” and after having explained the testimony of faith to him, he said, “well, I believe all religions are right, so…” And we agreed he would research more and ask questions as they come up.

Convert issues may stem from depression, poverty and disability, relationships, or everything they read, hear and see from other Muslims. Who is ready to listen?

 

Marriage

 

I was walking into my “New Beginnings” class for new Muslims one Sunday afternoon when as soon as I entered, I heard a knock. I looked outside and saw a young African man, his mother presumably, and a young woman, all dressed up. Excuse me? How may I help you? … Oh, you thought the masjid was like Las Vegas? The masjid has a marriage application for many reasons. And I can tell you, requests like this happen every month or two. One time, a Pakistani couple wanted me to marry them right after I lead a janaazah prayer one Friday as the cars were lined up, waiting for me to join and attend the cemetery for burial. I tried to oblige and ask for the wali, and they got upset and walked out.

Other “walk-ins” are when a non-Muslim woman, or recent shahadah to Islam – often inappropriately dressed – is brought in by an ethnic Muslim guy and his friends that all seem to be dressed like the mafia. Every. Single. Time. When I explain about the marriage license and want to inform the sister about her rights – or if she’s a non-Muslim, arrange a session with her to explain Islam or at the very least give her some reading material – the men are frustrated but the woman tries to pressure them to go to get the civil license and she seems grateful to get a chance to learn Islam. It visibly looks like she is being pressured into this agreement to become a halal girlfriend for a gym bro and that she is seeking a way out. My assumption is that when that man is actually serious about marriage, he will probably never tell the next woman that he had a six month “marriage” with a non-Muslim girl. 

This is also one of the many reasons I do not perform marriages with non-Muslims. Even in my city, one of the other two full time imams also does not do so. I’ve met some rabbis who similarly do not wed a Jew to a gentile. I felt vindicated to learn that Dr Yasir Qadhi also does not officiate marriages with Christian or Jewish women for similar reasons. Now the paragraph above would suggest that this has to do with rights, and yes, that is part of the reason – so that non-Muslim women are not taken advantage of, but only a minor trivial reason. The greater reasons have to do with the preservation of Islamic identity within our communities, and the maqasid of the original concession to marry Kitabi women, its setting, and conditions. I go through this in more detail in my personal marriage policy document that I give to all couples applying to marry through my masjid.

 

The other requests are to get married in a week, but once I send them a follow-up e-mail, I never hear from them again. But for some reason, the conditions of marriage are hard for many couples: the wali, the two Muslim male witnesses, and I ask them to agree on a mahr beforehand. It’s amazing how most Muslims are ignorant of these basic facets of marriage in Islam. But then again, when they sleep through Sunday school until they are 12 years old and then leave the masjid and never attend any other Islamic dars afterwards, I can see why they know little to nothing about their faith. However, if someone gives me a date months in advance, then I know it’s on.

It is important to be as clear as possible with the imam regarding full expectations of the wedding, especially if in large company, or a rented facility. I was once asked to preside over a wedding but due to cultural misunderstandings of certain terminology, the ceremony did not go quite as planned. In another instance, I was requested to do a fully western style wedding, complete with a symphony and bridezilla, only to be informed of cancellation an hour before showtime. Many weddings — and Islamic events in general — often do not account for the prayers. A few of us have to find a quiet spot with little traffic and make our make-shift prayer mats out of coats and use our phones to find the qiblah. One time I even prayed by myself in a stairwell during a desi wedding. I’ve even seen wedding rehearsals scheduled during jumuah prayer. It’s always awkward, “I’m sorry I’d like to attend the rehearsal to iron out last details, but our religion obligates us men, that’s you and me, to be present for jumuah, which is practically across the street from where you live and where you have your rehearsal, but I digress.” 

I feel bad and sad, being in such company at times. 

About 78% (that’s what it feels like at least) of all the wedding ceremonies I do are at the masjid. Most masjids have a policy to charge a certain amount to perform the wedding, usually around $200, give or take, sometimes reduced for members. Most masajid also require the couple to produce a marriage license from the county clerk. 

The open secret is that an imam is not required in Islamic marriage—unlike Catholicism where a priest is required to perform the “sacrament”. The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ said, “there is no marriage without a wali [some versions add: and two just witnesses].” He did not add himself, an imam or judge. But we know from other narrations that the marriage must be publicized and not kept secret. For that reason I generally approve of the way masajid have adapted, requiring the license, which does require an officiant’s signature, be they an imam or a judge.

In the women’s section of ICP, there is a decorated couch. This is where we usually perform the ceremony if people are dressed up. I’ll often have the wali sit in the middle, his daughter on one side, the groom on the other, as I ask each party their acceptance of their role. Once done, I will give a brief reminder for maintaining a long and healthy marital life, and close with duaa.

I make adjustments to my script for every couple I wed. The ethnic backgrounds of the wedding party, their religiosity, ring exchanges, unity symbols, the presence of non-Muslims unfamiliar with our vocabulary and norms, are all factors that play a role in my marriage script. Marriages are one of my favorite duties because it is a joyous occasion and it usually gives me opportunity to meet people who do not frequent the masjid. If I can leave them with a positive memory, then I’ve done my duty. 

 

Counseling

 

Most masjid goers are aware that traditional Islamic education does not train Imams how to counsel, but it remains one of the greatest community concerns that lead many masajid to employ Imams. Having a religious figure to confide in and listen to for hope and advice and to get some things off your chest without paying a therapist or risk losing a friend and having rumors spread among your extended family or ethnic enclave. Many imams spend at least a few hours of their month on the phone with spouses—most often women—of seemingly uncommitted partners. While we are not licensed counselors, they do not want un-Islamic advice, even if it may not be the best of Islamic advice.

The back of my business card reads “Preacher. Listener. Researcher.” I may preach from the minbar and research Islamic issues as described to me, but when it comes to counseling, I find that simply being a listener works well, and strangely gives off the illusion that I have offered grand wise advice. There are many times that I will walk through the masjid, maybe to organize the pamphlets at the front or place the new prayer time sheets, and I will give salaams to those I meet on the way. I cannot count how many times that simply saying AsSalaam Alaykum how are you?… and those will be my last words as someone tells me their life story for 30 or 40 minutes. I remember once an older man was putting his shoes on, got one shoe on, and then spoke to me for over an hour before he put his other shoe on. During that hour, he bounced from topic to topic to topic. He received phone calls asking where he was and why he hadn’t picked up his family yet—all the while I am listening, and he held onto his other shoe. When he suddenly paused for a moment, laughed, thanked me for my patience and asked me to talk. But that happens about once a week. On rare occasions, it’ll happen twice in a day and render me completely unprepared for an evening dars or without time to review Quran for isha, for example. So I’ll recite one of those sections I have as a “go-to” for when I am just too busy. A pastor once told me, “ministry is interruption”.

There are young Muslims that struggle with issues related to their raising and their emotions towards Islam. “Listening sessions” like that may be filled with a lot of awkward pauses as they put their feelings into words or prepare themselves to share their past mistakes — not something I ask them to do, but they volunteer. And there are “old” Muslims who tell you a story for the first of many times to come, searching for relevance, or thinking back to some past glory days—whether they were righteous or sinful. But everyone wants to get something off their chest, and they test the waters over the course of an hour before reaching that point, crying and then building a plan for spiritual healing and worshipful recovery.

“Counseling” or “active listening” is one of my favorite duties. On one hand, when I have someone directly in front of me, I feel I have been given a license to ignore everything and everyone else on earth, to give them the attention they came for. Even when I make sunnah prayers in the masjid, I do not get that, as I can see in my peripheral vision, the posture of someone who is waiting for me to finish so that they can ask me something. I also like these sessions because they usually help me know someone on a deeper level — which is important when in the masjid culture, people often come and go with little more than a salaam. But it has great challenges. Therapists may listen to an individual or a couple for several sessions before giving them tailored recommendations or proposing questions for their consideration. I am often expected to do that without any forewarning of what the meeting is about – marital issues? Children or parents? Faith doubts? Questions of halal or haraam? Do they want ruqyah?

Many of the few times I do get an e-mail beforehand will be incredibly vague. “I need to speak to you. When can I come in?” I may look them up online and then think maybe this person is struggling with doubts about atheism, so I’ll brush up on my Hamza Tzortzis atheist response… but then they come in wanting me to find them a Muslim spouse, or it might end up being issues of bodily purification for prayers.

The amount of time I spend in sessions like this cannot be overstated. As I have become more known in my community, more individuals feel comfortable speaking with me. I now have one such appointment, at least one, every single day on average. Add a walk-in on top of that. In my private notebooks, I have 53 separate pages, each one representing a unique individual who has sat across from me with more than just a question of halal or haram. And I have 29 couples, whether they came together or just one, seeking guidance regarding their marriage. 

Allah has been extremely kind to me, in that so many times, I will end up researching a topic for incidental reasons, and then, while it’s all fresh, I will receive a related request. Alhamdulillah, Allah prepares me for things before they happen!

 

Divorce

 

The Prophet ﷺ said:

الْقُضَاةُ ثَلاَثَةٌ وَاحِدٌ فِي الْجَنَّةِ وَاثْنَانِ فِي النَّارِ فَأَمَّا الَّذِي فِي الْجَنَّةِ فَرَجُلٌ عَرَفَ الْحَقَّ فَقَضَى بِهِ وَرَجُلٌ عَرَفَ الْحَقَّ فَجَارَ فِي الْحُكْمِ فَهُوَ فِي النَّارِ وَرَجُلٌ قَضَى لِلنَّاسِ عَلَى جَهْلٍ فَهُوَ فِي النَّارِ.

Judges are of three types, one in Paradise and two in the Fire. As for the one in Paradise, then a man who knows the truth and gives judgment accordingly; but a man who knows the truth and acts tyrannically in his judgment will go to the Fire; and a man who gives judgment for people when he is ignorant will go to the Fire.

While I was in Medinah, I was really confused about being an imam in America and “doing divorce”.  As I understood it, making executable rulings was the sole job and right of a qadi judge, and a judge is appointed by the Khaleefah, or head of state, or his delegates. There was no such individual, delegates or courts in America, nor were our communities linked with any such system abroad.

That was one hurdle. The other was considering the great reverence surrounding divorce, and splitting apart two Muslims bound together in a firm covenant. Consider the hadeeth quoted above, and similar narrations attributed to the Prophet ﷺ and the early Muslims about the detriment of being a judge. The salaf had notorious caution regarding divorce or judging between others. Imam Ahmad said that one should memorize at least three hundred thousand hadeeth before issuing fatwa on divorce! No scholar alive today would qualify then! Are Muslims forever bound in their unhappy marriages, literally till death do they part?

Going back to the first hesitation: from where do imams get their authority to make executed rulings of a judicial nature? This goes back to a fiqh principle stating that the Muslim body [jamaa`at al-muslimeen] takes the place of the judge in a land without such authority. And so, when a Muslim community in America hires an imam, religious director, or resident scholar, it is assumed – unless otherwise noted in their contract or community dynamics and expectations – that they take on this authority, by necessity, as they are the most academically qualified and have earned the trust of the community to represent and judge between them. 

This puts into perspective the great responsibility that western imams have.

As for the second doubt, this is the purpose of fiqh and madhab studies, alhamdulillah, and why studying a madhab is the most practical way in the modern world to become a faqeeh.

Because divorce issues can be contentious, the qualified appointed imams of a city must come together and create a sharia council to hear such cases in an organized manner. This gives greater confidence to their rulings, and exonerates any single imam from the wrath of those upset by the decree. If there are a large number of masajid, imams, etc, then this may be more plausible. Otherwise, every imam has to field issues alone, and that is where I have been.

It is rare that a man seeks divorce via the imam. It is only when women request divorce that an imam may really be needed. If it seems to me that reconciliation is a ship that already sailed long ago, then I will proceed. But I will always speak first with the husband, even if he is on the other side of the world. That is if he didn’t simply abandon her and make himself unreachable and start a new life without telling her.

Facilitating divorce or decreeing dissolution is never easy nor fun, as there are lots of pent up emotions, stories and perspectives involved. But because it is a necessity that Allah made halal when the couple cannot keep to Allah’s limits, I consider it a great duty, if it means saving a man and woman from further oppressing one another. On average, I have to deal with a divorce about once every 2 months.

For many imam duties, even down to writing a khutbah, I consulted so many other imams to learn their processes until I could find my own. But I never consulted nor researched and reviewed as much as I have as I did with divorce. Over time I have gained more confidence with it, and developed a procedure with hearing and then finally issuing decrees, but it still makes me feel shaky at the knees to remove a watermark from a draft, sign and hit send on a divorce declaration. Allah guide us all to what He loves and is pleased with. And may Allah bless the Muslims in their marriages and sow love and mercy between them, ameen.

 

Death

 

Death comes when you least expect it. For small communities, it seems to be a semi-annual affair, but for large metropolitan masajid it may be weekly, or more frequent. It could be on the imam’s day off, or during his busiest day, or when those who might normally wash the body (if not the imam) are visiting their old country. It could be where the family has “special requests” that delay or prevent a traditional and hasty Sunnah burial, if not pending autopsy. Depending on the imam’s support staff, his involvement may be more or less. But one thing is for sure, everyone prefers the imam. Not only to lead the prayer, but the washing, logistics, burial, and any duaas or remembrance at the moment, or days and weeks later, while avoiding any ostentatious bid`ah. So while death is something most of us dread, it makes for a peculiar mission upon the imam. And as most burials are right after thuhr prayer, I never plan any “after thuhr” activity except that I put an asterisk on it, excusing myself in the event of janazah.

Many of the deaths in the American Muslim community recently have been young men, victims of violence, whether they themselves were mixed up in illegal activity, or because they were at the wrong place at the wrong time. For all our deceased, I learn about their heritage first and foremost, because that will determine what to expect of those present for the janazah, and the language of any admonition and duaa said at the time of burial, and even the pronouns of that duaa. All of this requires its separate deliberation and review.

May Allah bless us all in our lives and in our time.